A/N: Here's the second chapter! I hope you like it and will please review!

The portrait hole of the Gryffindor common room opened, two boys stepped through. Both were covered in mud and grass, cheeks rosy from the early fall air. Their crimson Quidditch robes hung off their thin frames, and brooms were clutched loosely in their tired hands. Despite their apparent exhaustion, they were smiling happily; broad grins spreading across their faces. With little notice to the mud they were dragging on the hardwood, they walked over to the closest sofa, flopping down on either side of their friend who was currently scribbling furiously on a piece of parchment.

"Hey Hermione," Harry breathed, pausing to allow air into his lungs, "What're you doing?"

"Essay," Hermione said simply.

"Essay; for what?" asked Ron, leaning over to peer at her work.

"History of Magic. Binns assigned two rolls of parchment on the Vampire treaties," said Hermione.

"Hermione, he did that yesterday," Ron groaned.

"So," she said, checking the thick tome in front of her for reference.

"So? You're acting like it's due tomorrow! Binns said it wasn't due until next week!" cried Ron in astonishment.

"I want to get it done and over with," said Hermione, once again putting quill to parchment.

Ron sighed and shared a look with Harry, both knowing it was futile to try and convince Hermione to put off work even for a couple of days. With a tired, and rather dramatic sigh, Harry slumped down far into the sofa, putting his hands behind his head. He smiled contently, preparing to drop off to sleep. Ron, catching his friends movements, did the same, propping his mud-covered feet on the table Hermione was currently working on. After a moment, the sound of a scratching quill stopped and Hermione glanced at both boys.

"What do you two think you're doing?" she asked.

"Napping," Harry stated, yawning widely for effect.

"You're not going to nap out here," said Hermione, looking at her ebony-haired friend.

"And why not?" he asked.

Suddenly, a loud snore from Ron caused Hermione's gaze to turn, finding the redhead slowly slipping sideways in his seat in such a way that his head now rested on the side of her bent back.

"Because you're distracting me," said Hermione, giving the boy a push.

"No we're not," said Harry smugly.

"Yes, you are. Now would you please cut it out so I can get some work done?" said Hermione, gesturing to her unfinished essay.

"Hermione, you have almost a full week to finish that essay. For once could you please just stop doing schoolwork for two seconds so you can hang out with us?" said Harry, "We haven't seen you all day accept during classes,"

"You had Quidditch practice," said Hermione.

"True, but you didn't have to spend most of lunch in the library, now did you? If you hadn't, you wouldn't be in this position," Harry said.

"And what, pray tell, is my position?" she asked, her cheek on her hand.

"Stuck in this stuffy common room studying when you could be grabbing a snack from the kitchens with your friends," he said.

Hermione sighed, drawing her gaze away from Harry and back to Ron, whose eyes were now open wide; blue orbs looking almost childlike. "Please 'Mynee," he said in a child's tone.

She couldn't help but sigh. At times, her friends could really milk what was left of their childish innocence. Hermione raised a hand to her forehead and rubbed her throbbing temples; pain undoubtedly caused by reading the minuet text of her history book. With as much force as her tired body would muster, she pushed Ron away from her and collected her things; placing them in her bag. With difficulty and only by the aid of her friends, Hermione rose from her seat. She smoothed out the wrinkles in her robes, fixed her skirt and hair and swung her bag over her shoulder. Harry and Ron smiled at her, rushing upstairs to change and put away their brooms. As they did so, vanishing into the boy's dormitory for not more than five minutes, Hermione gently massaged the small of her back. She put light pressure on the sore area, kneading the flesh with her thin fingers. As she finished, relieving herself of the pain, she gently patted her swollen belly, smiling rather fondly.

"Alright, we're ready, lets go," said Ron, jumping the last few steps of the stairs and making his way to the portrait hole.

Harry followed, though slower, and the trio set out through the winding corridors to the kitchens. Once there, having tickled the pear as required, they were met with a flurry of high-pitched voices; one was sounding out above them all. A house-elf, dressed in miss-matched clothing, came running to the front of the group, a large grin plastered on his face.

"Harry Potter!" he cried, hands clasped in front of him, "What can Dobby get Harry Potter and his friends?"

"Hello Dobby. Could you just get us some sandwiches please, and some pumpkin juice?" said Harry, squatting down to eye-level with the elf.

"Yes sir, Harry Potter sir. Dobby will get them right away," said Dobby, pushing past the other elves to prepare their food.

"Ah, how I love the kitchens," Ron sighed, "Always good service,"

Hermione frowned at him, but said nothing, knowing that anything she said on house-elf rights would be swiftly dismissed by Ron. It was only a moment before Dobby came scurrying back to them with a silver tray loaded with sandwiches. Another house-elf, similar in appearance to Dobby, followed with a silver pitcher and three glasses. All was deposited on a nearby table, both house elves glad to have been of service. However, before the trio could sit down, they were waylaid by a rather odd occurrence. Just as she was about to move, Hermione felt a small poke on her stomach. Looking down, she saw Dobby curiously poking her stomach with his long index finger. His eyes were wide, mouth open in an 'o' form and he poked her repeatedly, his freedom from the restraints of a wizarding master allowing him to give no heed to personal space. Hermione looked up from the curious elf to her friends, one of which who was trying desperately to hold in his laughter.

"Um, Dobby, what are you doing?" asked Hermione.

"Dobby senses magic he does. Small magic from a small person," Dobby continued to poke her, "Did Miss swallow a small wizard?"

Ron, unable to control his laughter any longer, clutched his stomach and began to double up with peals of laughter. Hermione glared at him, watching as he rolled on the ground gasping for breath. From off to the side, she heard a small snicker, and turned her glare upon Harry who immediately coughed in a poor attempt to cover his laughter.

"Dobby, Hermione did not swallow a small wizard," said Harry, a smile tugging on the corners of his lips, "She's having a baby,"

Dobby's eyes grew even wider and he looked up at Hermione, then back to her protruded abdomen. He gave it one last poke, then turned his head and pressed his large bat-like ear against her. He stood, listening intently, he suddenly gasped and scurried away. Hermione raised an eyebrow, watching as Dobby disappeared into the crowd of house-elves.

"What was that about?" asked Harry, looking from the retreating Dobby to Hermione.

"I don't know. Maybe he was listening for the baby's heartbeat," she suggested.

"Maybe," said Harry, turning to take a seat at the table.

Hermione joined him, followed by Ron, whose laughter had subsided. They ate quietly, managing to empty the silver plate as well as the pitcher of pumpkin juice. Once finished, as Dobby did not return to talk to them during the entirety of the meal, they bid their thanks and left the kitchens to turn in for the night. They walked in companionable silence, not meeting anyone as they made their way toward Gryffindor Tower. The silence that lay throughout Hogwarts, however, was broken by a rather loud crash, startling the three friends.

"What was that?" asked Ron, moving closer to where the noise had come from.

There, on the third floor, lying in pieces, was a suit of armor. Its sword lay on the ground, its many metal limbs scattered on the stone floor and its helmet rocked back and forth on its side. The trio looked around carefully, moving closer to each other. Hermione felt her heart begin to race, her head whipping around wildly to see what had caused the suit to be knocked over. As they trio stood, both boys took Hermione's hands in their own, hoping to give the rather frightened girl some sort of comfort. It was a few moments of tense waiting until Ron saw something move out of the corner of his eye. It was hidden in the shadows, and didn't make a sound as it walked around cautiously. Hermione sucked in a breath, waiting for whatever it was to step out into the light of the torches. Fear tightened it's already hard grip on Hermione's heart and she felt sick at the prospect of what was to come. It was a few moments before anyone made a sound towards the person, if indeed it was a person, in front of them.

"Show yourself," said Harry, "We know you're there,"

Slowly, it stepped into the torchlight, looking at them with an apologetic gaze. It wrung its hands nervously, fiddling with what it was holding. With a sigh of relief, the trio released each other's hands. Hermione felt all tension leave her and she released the breath she had been holding. Despite the situation, she felt herself smiling as she looked upon their so-called attacker.

"Dobby, what are you doing here?" she asked.

Dobby looked down at his feet, finding his miss-matched socks very interesting, "Dobby wants to say he is sorry for running away from miss in the kitchens. Dobby also wants to say sorry for scaring sirs and miss," he said.

"That's alright, Dobby, really it is," said Hermione.

"We're just glad you weren't…" Harry paused, looking at his companions, "…someone else,"

"Dobby also has something to give miss," he said, unrolling the small bundle he had in his hands.

When he had finished, Dobby proudly presented his gift; a pair of red and gold socks. One of the socks was stripped, the other sporting different sized polka-dots. Hermione smiled, accepting them from the house-elf.

"Thank you Dobby," she said, taking the time to notice that the stitching on both socks seemed to have been abruptly halted.

"Dobby thinks miss could give them to miss' baby. Baby's needs socks," said Dobby, his gaze again to the floor, a light blush colouring his cheeks.

Hermione smiled down at him, finding her eyes beginning to mist. With much care she bent down as best she could manage and drew the blushing house-elf into her arms. She hugged his for all she was worth, feeling the elf's spindly arms wrap around her middle. When she pulled away, she gently placed a soft kiss on Dobby's forehead, standing up with some difficulty afterward.

"Thank you so much Dobby. I'm sure the baby will love them," said Hermione.

Dobby smiled at her widely, showing all of his teeth, "I'm sure miss will be a good mother," he said.

With that he scurried off, leaving the trio once again in the quiet hallway. Hermione whipped her eyes, sniffling as she did so.

"Are you alright Hermione?" asked Harry.

"I'm fine," she said, "Let's get back to the common room,"

Hermione spent little time in her Head dormitory. She could not bare the thought of having to see Draco Malfoy every time she awoke and ventured outside of her room. In fact, Hermione couldn't even recall the last time she was in her dormitory, and was sure that the bed had never been slept in more than once. She spent so much time in the Gryffindor boy's dorm room that they had even given her a space in their chest of drawers for her clothes. It was now completely common place to see her curled up in either Harry or Ron's bed, especially if she was feeling particularly lethargic. She had once been asked if she would feel more comfortable with Lavender and Parvati, especially since at times she could be particularly moody, but she said she could not be around the pain they exuded.

Lavender Brown's boyfriend, a half-blood from Ravenclaw, had been killed during a Death Eater attack before school had resumed, and ever since she had been fraught with grief. Few were able to console the girl, and Hermione was not one of them. She had tried, especially when Lavender's pain was still fresh, but had ended up weeping right along with her. Hermione's emotions were so haywire that Harry and Ron had even told her not to try and comfort her, since in the end it was Hermione who needed comforting. And Lavender wasn't the only Gryffindor girl suffering. Parvati Patil had lost her aunt and uncle to Death Eater's as well, her three cousins now coming to live with her parents. She and her twin Padma had spent the majority of the summer trying to help their relatives; helping them to adjust to their new home, trying to take their minds off the war and the death of their parents. However, as hard as they tried, death was what occupied their own thoughts. With both girls in inconsolable emotional turmoil, Hermione found herself of little use.

The trio climbed through the portrait hole to find the common room empty. The fire was waning and dark shadows were cast across the room. With a wide yawn Ron, began his ascent up stairs, Hermione following suit. The boys, as an act of curtsey, allowed her first use of the bathroom; giving Hermione a chance to change in private and have more time to sleep. She slipped her nightgown on quickly, washed her face and brushed her teeth, as her parents had always reminded her to do, and shortly thereafter left the bathroom. Quietly, so as not to disturb Dean, Seamus and Neville, Hermione padded across the room to Harry's bed, slipping beneath the covers next to him. Ron soon joined her on her other side, turning the lights off as he did. They settled into their regular sleeping arrangement; adjusting a little to accommodate Hermione's growing belly.

"'Night Hermione, 'night Harry," said Ron with a yawn, burying his face in Hermione's hair.

"Goodnight you two," said Harry, hand resting on the arm Hermione had thrown over his torso.

"Goodnight Harry, goodnight Ron," said Hermione softly, eyes closed and a contented smile adorning her lips.

With that, the dormitory stilled and soon after there came the sounds of heavy breathing. Both boys that flanked the sleeping girl were given dreamless rest, but Hermione found herself plunged into an all too familiar dream. Lately, Hermione found herself dreaming about a time when her child was born. She would often be seated in a wooden rocking chair holding a bundle of soft cotton blankets. The room she sat in was wonderfully bright and airy, the scent of milk, baby powder and daffodils filtering in along with each beam of light. The blanket would wriggle and squirm, and with gentle hands Hermione would pull back the coverings to see the smiling face of her baby. Its appearance changed nightly, at times being covered in tight blonde curls and large grey eyes. Other times the child had feathery brown hair and swirling chocolate eyes; each evening bringing a new combination of Hermione and Draco. Chubby arms would reach up to her, grasping a finger or pulling on a lock of hair. The baby would grin, showing off pink gums and a tinkling laugh would bubble from its mouth.

"My darling child," she would say, stroking the baby's rosy cheek with a smile on her face.

She would sit for an insurmountable amount of time, rocking back and forth with her child in her arms. Hermione felt full to bursting with love and joy for the tiny creature in her arms, a love that she had never felt before. It was different from that she had shared for her parents, Harry and Ron or even Draco. It was the type of love that had manifested in a moment, growing with the child she now held. She knew in an instant that she would risk everything for it, would die for it. Hermione would face Voldemort head on if it meant that her baby would be safe.

It was at this point, always at this point, when she would hear footsteps. They would come from behind, sounding confidant and sure. Hermione would never turn around, and never felt frightened, but instead would be wrapped in a rather odd sense of calm. The footsteps suddenly stopped, and she felt a presence behind her and her face broke into a smile. A large, warm hand was placed on her shoulder, a deep voice accompanying it.

"Beautiful," the voice was always so familiar, something that Hermione had heard before but could never place.

Slowly, Hermione would turn her head, and always she would be assaulted by a cold wind. Chills would rush up and down her spine and the former warmth would leave her. No one was behind her. The lights would dim, pleasant sunlight fading to harsh moonlight. Her world would turn grey, and she would be all alone with her child. There wasn't anyone there to help her and a feeling of complete abandonment would fill her. No matter how many times she told herself that she was not alone, that her friends would be with her, she never escaped from her dreams.

"Harry and Ron are with me," she would chant. "Ginny will be with me, the Weasley's will look after me. I'm not alone."

By now she was clutching the baby to her breast, holding on for dear life. The child, sensing its mother's distress, would begin to whimper, fat tears dripping down its cheeks.

"I'm not alone. I'm not alone," Hermione would chant as she grew colder and her baby began to cry.

Wind whistled in her ears and Hermione found herself huddled on the floor, the rocking chair having abruptly disappeared. Tears were pouring down her face and her breath came out in short gulps. In the period of a moment her dream world had been turned upside down, plunging her into darkness and taking away her happiness. It seemed that her dreams were mirroring her life and it was all she could do to keep her sanity until she awoke.

"I'm not alone. I'm not alone."

A/N: I know it's a bit short, but I didn't feel there was a need to add any more. I hope you liked it, none the less. Alright, since posting the first chapter I had thought of a couple of baby names, for both sexes, and would like your opinions on them.

Boys: Ambrose, Corin or Kieran

Girls: Winifred (Winnie), Imogen or Eleanor

Vote when you review and the results will be posted on my Profile. Voting will end the chapter before the baby is born (which won't be for a while).

Thanks to my beta, Zvezdana.