Thank God It's Friday, thought Hermione, with an uncharacteristically sour attitude. For two days she had been having low back cramps, mild, nothing that a hot pad and a midol didn't help with. The problem was that she had experienced the same cramps every month since she had been fifteen and been blessed with her first period. Still, she held onto hope that she might be with child. But hope wasnt always practical, so she still put a panty liner in before coming to work this morning. And then spent a full half hour in the ladies bawling her eyes out when she found spotting in her panties.
To top off the impending doom of her period when she desperately wanted to be late, she was sure that the ladies in reception had heard the sobbing and attributed it to the string of articles about her in the Prophet. For the most part Hermione had been ignoring the increasingly wild speculation about her relationship with Malfoy, Ronald's relocation to rehab, and the supposed love triangle that pushed the poor redheaded hero over the edge. She'd stuck firmly to her 'no comment' policy for the press and was relieved that no one had apparently been able to get a statement from Malfoy either. Today the news had featured a buck-toothed, frizzy haired, younger version of herself better left behind and indicated that the 'affair' with Malfoy went all the way back to their school days.
In a way it would be a relief that the press didn't have a pregnancy to slobber over, especially since wedding bells were not in her future. It didn't help that the very thought of trying to find a silver lining to not being pregnant made her want to lock herself back in the loo and cry her eyes out some more. Plus someone had forgotten the gherkins on her sandwich making her lunch inedible. As if she didn't have enough problems. Oh, and she was late on her deadline, had a horrible zit on her forehead, and her hair had decided to have a frizz day which made it impossible to step foot out in public because she didn't want the press to have another horrible photo of her.
She just wanted to crawl into bed and sleep for a week.
Completely uninterested in her work Hermione flipped open her menses calendar to mark that she had spotted today and did a little count. Hmmm, she was running a little early. Not unheard of but usually she didn't have spotting for another 3 or 4 days. Well, she had been under a lot of stress what with the break up and the move and the Malfoy situation. And she may have been dosed with a fertility potion, that might throw her period out of whack as well. But if she was early this month, she would probably be early next month and she had planned a weekend away with Ginny specifically on days she didn't expect to be bleeding. Great.
Needless to say she was ready to snarl viscously at the person who was buzzing to be let into her office. With a huff she got up and lifted the ward on the door, dumping her useless lunch in the bin, and kicking it back under the table.
"In a mood are we?" Ginny asked as she made her way into the lab, balancing take out containers and smoothies.
Lunch! Hermione instantly forgave her friend the intrusion and bustled over to help her with her burden. Soup and sandwiches and chips and pasta. Lovely, all lovely. And little gherkins! Hermione popped one in her mouth before they even got settled giving Ginny a happy smile. "You have perfect timing," Hermione exclaimed, giving a good firm hug the second all hands were free. "How do you always know when I need you?"
"Woman's intuition," Ginny declared, making herself comfortable and taking a sip out of her smoothie. Hermione gave her a look and she sighed. "I just figured you wouldn't want to go out today, what with the paper and all."
"Someone really ought to do something about that rag," Hermione agreed as she took a nice big satisfying bite of sandwich and washed it down with a lovely gulp of smoothie.
Ginny peered at her closely, frowning, and Hermione refused to get self conscious about her less than stellar appearance. "You've been crying," her friend determined. "Surely not over the trash in the news?"
"No," Hermione shook her head. "No, nothing like that." She sighed and decided to be honest. Ginny had been unusually sensitive about the whole pregnancy issue, waiting for Hermione to bring it up, but she knew her friend must be boiling over with questions.
"I just got some spotting today, and I've got cramps, and it's probably better for everyone involved if I'm not pregnant." A sniffle escaped, she blinked back wetness in her eyes. "I knew better, I knew better to get my hopes up but I'm still crying all over the place like a damned fool."
"Well spotting doesn't necessarily mean you are not pregnant. If you did the deed on Saturday it really is just too early to tell. If you get a full on period...well then we will know." Her friend said gently, giving her a little pat on the knee. "I guess the big question is, if you are pregnant and you are sure it can't be Ronalds, what are you going to do about the father in question?"
Hermione gave a shaky shrug and turned her attention to her lunch. Ginny wouldn't understand Hermione being thrilled with the idea of single motherhood. Her family was very traditional. Harry was a wonderful and devoted husband and father. But not everyone got a Harry Potter in their lives. Some girls got stuck with the Ronald's and the Draco's of the world and still wanted a baby. It wasn't like the child wouldn't have male influence. The Weasley brothers alone were a force to be reckoned with even before one counted Harry and Ronald and Nevielle. She'd make due.
"Hermione, we really ought to talk about this…" Ginny trailed off at Hermione's closed off expression.
"Odd's are, I'm not pregnant," Hermione said firmly. "And if I am I will deal with it then. How are the kids?"
Her friend looked as though she wanted to argue, to insist, but finally took a breath and allowed the subject change and began to tell about James's latest exploits.
Draco bounced his foot over his knee as he re-read the report compiled by one of three investigative professionals he had hired. This particular individual had been hired to get intel on Granger herself and he was the only person who had come up with a damn thing. No reports of Granger being in two places at the same time. No plots or schemes uncovered in his work or personal life that he wasn't already aware of. No secret developments in Polyjuice. No unregistered Metamorphmagi running loose in the streets. A few minor things, someone skimming money off the top in the records department. Some new blackmail material about a few minor players. But nothing, nothing that fit the scenario of an impersonator seducing him. It had to be personal. Someone who knew about his secret obsession. He couldn't imagine who, but he was having several suspects followed. Nothing of interest as of yet.
But the report of Granger was just full of useless but fascinating facts. Break up facts. The long term relationship that had ended his wayward hopes of ever having a change with Granger had failed. He hated himself for feeding his obsession so he was just trying to just focus on things that might be relevant to finding out who exactly had impersonated her. He flipped the page with a blase attitude and a bored sigh, hoping to give the investigator the impression that the contents of this file held no interest for him. He paid no mind to the dozen recent photographs and secretly lied to himself that he would not devour them with his eyes later. When he did manage to find a tidbit of interest.
"This date," Malfoy questioned, tapping the report, "You are certain that Granger secured a new flat on Sunday morning?"
"Yes sir,Mr. Malfoy sir," the man replied, all nerves and twisting of hands. "She signed the lease at 9 am, paid cash, and moved almost nothing in but new bedding and some clothes."
Hmmm….interesting. That would mean that the Weasley breakup happened before the Monday morning bombshell in the paper showing Granger out on the town with a man who she was not engaged to. He had so desperately wanted to be a fly on the wall for that conversation. He couldn't help but wonder if that article had started a fight that ended with a break up. He couldn't help but hope. However, this timeline put the break up first. How long had the end been brewing? All accounts pointed towards happy engaged bliss, wedding plans firmly established, right up until Weasley decided to go into rehab. One would think that one thing caused the other but if Hermione moved out on Sunday, and Ron didn't go into rehab until Tuesday. Maybe the git decided to go into rehab in a ploy to win his finance back. That made sense.
But the timing. Hermione's imposter had left his bed on Sunday morning at about 8 am.
If the two things were related then he had to consider the impossible. That Hermione had been out on the town drinking to dull the pain of a breakup and somehow ended up at the same shindig as he had been at. It was ludicrous. The real Hermione Granger would have never let him kiss her, would have never kissed him back so sweet. Would have never in a million years gotten naked with him. He had never seen her out and about on the bar scene. He had never seen her out dancing or kissing anyone besides her insipid fiance. She had to be an imposter.
"I need to find out more about the breakup, I want to know why and when it happened." Malfoy managed to get out. "And secure Granger's location Saturday night."
"Uhm, Mr. Malfoy. It's been confirmed by photographic evidence that she was with you Saturday night. Are you indicating that the photos are falsified?"
He felt sick, confused, and excited at the same time. No, he shouldn't jump to conclusions. She wouldn't even have lunch with him, much less shag him stupid. He knew better. He knew what she thought of him.
"Get the whole timeline," he ordered, ignoring the investigator's question about the validity of the photo's. "Assume nothing, find out exactly where she was, who she was with, what she did. Every second of her day on Saturday."