It had been five weeks since Severus had left. No one had heard from him, not a single word. Hermione had vacated his chambers, in fact, she had left Hogwarts completely. She had taken up residence in a small flat near the hospital, and it was easy to get to and from her job.

Hermione adored her job. She loved helping people every day, and she enjoyed thinking that she made a difference to someone every now and then. But most of all, she was distracted, her time there completely filled, so she did not have to think about him.

Finally alone in her flat after a long day at work, Hermione kicked off her heels, ripped off her white robe and sighed. Sitting in her burgundy camisole and black lounging pants she reflected on her day. A young couple had brought their infant son in, because the child had managed to hex himself so that his three teeth grew down to his chest, much like the problem Hermione had experienced many years back. Thankfully this time, she could perform the counter-curse and all was well.

She yawned and stretched, ready to go to bed. Tomorrow was Saturday and she had the weekend off, so she would go visit Dumbledore and the boys at Hogwarts, where Harry was teaching DADA and Ron was teaching with Hagrid.

Staring up at the gargoyle that guarded the Headmaster's office, Hermione sighed deeply. She was tired of being told how lonely and tired she looked and why didn't she settle down with that nice young Dean Thomas, who had set up quite a restuarant in a small village near Hogsmeade.

Dating was out of the question. She had not become completely celibate since he had left, she had been on the odd date here and there. Yet she felt nothing. Even though the men she had seen were young, attractive, kind and successful there was no spark. Not even an ember of emotion. There was only one man who lit her fire. There was only one man she wanted to settle down with, thankyouverymuch and he had deserted her in what she guessed was a fit of madness. Perhaps she could become the crazy old woman who lived alone with her seventeen cats, surely Crookshanks would not mind a few more furry friends.

Her mind began to drift slightly as she listened to Dumbledore, Harry and Ron recount the past month's events. From what she heard, nothing out of the usual had happened, Peeves was still as mischievous as ever, . And was it ever warm in the office. She politely asked if Dumbledore could remove his heating charm, or weaken it a little.

"Hermione?" Harry peered of his wire-rimmed glasses, emerald eyes showing his concern for his best friend. "Dumbledore put a cooling charm in here an hour ago. It's not warm at all."

"Yes it is," she protested feebly. Her eyes were swimming, it was so hot. "I'm telling you Harry it's too bloody–"

She was lying down, on a bed perhaps. That much was clear as Hermione painstakingly opened her eyes. Glancing around, she recognized the stark white walls and rows of beds. She was in the Hospital Wing? Well that certainly made no sense. She was fine.

"Harry? Ron?" She called. Her tongue felt thick and her mouth seemed as though it had been stuffed with cotton wool. Other than that though, she felt fit as a fiddle, there was no reason for her to be in the Hospital Wing.

Almost instantly, her best friends were next to her bed. They must have been waiting on the other side of the curtain, her brain told her. The worried expressions on their faces sparked her nerves. Before either of the boys had a chance to speak, she demanded, "Why am I here?"

Harry and Ron exchanged a look. Ron began, "Remember when we were in Dumbledore's office and you said you were really warm. You passed out and we brought you here about an hour ago."

Harry brought up the story. "Madam Pomfrey checked you over, but she wouldn't tell us what was wrong with you, we'll try to find her."

As Harry and Ron scurried off to find the nurse, Hermione lay back, running through the day's events in her head. She had been a little sick that morning, but she imagined it was the not-so-unfrozen chicken she had ate last night.

Madam Pomfrey returned, shooing the boys out of the room. Hermione noticed that it was just the two women in the whole wing. "Hermione, I took the liberty of finding out why you fainted when you came in here. I hope you don't mind, but Albus, Harry and Ron were extremely concerned."

Hermione smiled. Poppy always took everyone into her consideration. "No of course I don't mind, I trust you completely."

"Wonderful. I performed several diagnostic charms. You have not been eating properly, causing you to lack the proper amounts of Vitamin B12 and Zinc. You also appear to be physically exhausted and judging by those circles under your eyes, you most certainly have not been getting adequate amounts of sleep. A woman in your condition needs a good eight to ten hours each–"

"My condition?" Hermione interrupted. Did she have some mysterious illness or disease that she did not know about? Her brain began to enter panic mode.

"Well yes Hermione," Poppy was staring at her as though she had four heads. "You have your baby to think about."

"Baby!" Hermione felt her chest seize. What baby?

Poppy became slightly quizzical. "Yes Hermione. Your baby...that you have been expecting for almost two months?"

Finally Hermione's world stopped reeling. "No. No. No baby." Those were the only coherent words she could get out.

Poppy sighed and flicked her wand again. Hermione's midsection glowed blue. "See? You are pregnant. Congratulations."

She left Hermione to sit on the bed, hearing the words "your baby...two months..." over and over in her head.

I was going to make a scenario in which Hermione was diagnosed with some horrible illness, but on Monday, my very good friend's sister was diagnosed with cancer, and I could not bring myself to write something like that when a friend is going through it. Sorry if it is a little repetitive to my last story. Perhaps I'll change the "illness" if someone has a suggestion...?