She had been gone seven weeks. And she was loving every minute. It was a Saturday, and Hermione had arranged to go shopping with Carys, who she was PA to. They had really hit it off right from the start. Carys, a rather average looking witch with straight brown hair and a determined walk, had immediately taken to her young protégée. A straight O student straight out of Hogwarts and founder of idealistic group S.P.E.W. was perfect for her to mould, and Carys had made it her business to do that as soon as Hermione had accepted the job. Hermione, filled with gratitude and relief at being offered a job that would allow her to demonstrate her organisational capabilities (achieved through years of chivvying Ron and Harry to do their homework) at the same time as channelling her moral spirit through something more successful than SPEW, was only too keen to please her employer. With these attitudes, it was not surprising when a genuine friendship formed.
"Hermione! Darling, I'm here! Are you ready?" Carys popped into the living room as she Apparated and her voice floated up the stairs to where Hermione was kneeling in the bathroom.
"Just one minute," Hermione called down before gulping as the familiar urge to retch took over. Throwing herself over the toilet, she clutched the white rim as she heaved up her breakfast.
Carys frowned, hearing the sound of Hermione throwing up. She rushed up the stairs and crouched beside Hermione, putting an arm around her. "You're not well."
Hermione sat up and flushed the chain. "Oh no, I'm fine. Really, this is normal. Then I'm fine all day. Stress I think, leaving Hogwarts, getting a place of my own, the job… it all happened so quickly. Once I get on with my day I'm fine. Now come on, I believe you and I have some shopping to do!" Hermione hauled herself up, pulling her friend up with her.
"If you say so.." Carys sighed as Hermione, with a pop disapparated.
Not thoroughly convinced, Carys took a suspicious look around Hermione's bathroom before giving up and popping after the girl.
"Mmm. My stomach's making noises. Let's grab a bite to eat shall we? That little place over there is calling to me!" Hermione exclaimed, swinging her shopping bags into one hand and using her free one to point at a small café nearby.
Carys raised an eyebrow. "Well I daresay I'd feel a bit peckish if I'd spent half the morning chucking my breakfast up." She smiled dryly and followed Hermione into the café.
"What is it?" Hermione asked abruptly, after watching her friend stir her cup of coffee for far longer than was necessary.
The older woman smiled. "You tell me." She smiled again, noting how Hermione's arms crossed in front of her breasts and her brow suddenly furrowed into a frown. On the defensive already… Carys thought. "You tell me what this 'illness' really is." She put her hands in the air, bending her fingers to mimic inverted commas. "You tell me why you ran away from Hogwarts. You were a model student Hermione, you must have loved it there." She sipped her coffee.
"I don't understand. What do you want me to tell you?" Hermione snapped, her eyes darting in fear from her coffee to Carys and back again.
"Darling, I run the Women's Shelter. I see women like you every day. Women running scared. Scared of all different things. Honey, I know the signs. You're one of them."
Hermione realised tears were falling down her cheeks as Carys reached across and gripped her hand gently. "I'm not one of them! I'm not! I'm Hermione Granger, straight O student, swot of the year! I'm not running from anybody!"
Carys shook her head. "Want to explain this mystery illness then?"
"It's stress! I told you – it's the change, the move, the new job, having a house of my own – it's stressful." Hermione insisted.
"You had a boyfriend at Hogwarts?"
"Yeah – yes. But I don't see what Har- he has to do with anything!"
"And you've been sick for how long? Seven weeks?"
"Yes! The stress! I moved seven weeks ago. See, it's stress!"
"Stress from moving and getting a new job wouldn't last this long honey."
"What are you saying?" Hermione whispered.
"What I'm saying, darling, is that you're not sick. You're pregnant."
"No – no – I'm not – I can't be – I – " Hermione blustered wildly.
"Still a virgin are you?" Carys tapped another sachet of sugar into her mug, her eyes never breaking from Hermione's.
"Well I-" Hermione blushed beet-red. Carys gave her a knowing look.
"So it's not impossible is it? In fact, very probable."
"I'm NOT pregnant!"
"All right! Whatever! You believe whatever you want darling. Now, can we get out of here and get some shopping done?"
Glad for the change of subject, Hermione assented and the two friends went out of the café together.