The shoe, for which Hermione had been yelled at for twelve minutes straight, arrived at her doorstep a week later with a letter attached.

I was walking the halls yesterday, reminiscing my once ample supply of fire whisky and found this. I thought you might want it back. I remember you mentioning it belonging to a red-haired witch with a fondness for the bat-bogey hex.

D.M

P.S. If you ever want to lose another garment of clothing, just owl.

P.P.S. Next time I'll make sure there are no photographers in the vicinity.

P.P.P.S. Blaise says 'hi.'

Hermione had yet to return the shoe, too nervous to show the note to Ginny, knowing she would most definitely want to read it.

Hermione had spent the last week purposefully avoiding any place she thought Draco might be, mostly to sway the rumours caused by the Prophet. The article had apparently been a hit with their readers. She had almost called in sick to work to avoid awkward questions but realised that would just make her look even more guilty than she was.

It turns out she need not have worried. Most of the people she worked with were away enjoying their Christmas holidays, and those left either didn't read the Prophet or simply didn't believe it. Hermione's boss, Mary Figget, only cared about the incredibly generous donation they had received from Malfoy Industries on Christmas Eve.

Harry, who Ginny had not filled in on the situation, had thought the whole concept hysterical. He'd sent her clippings with his annotated notes, mostly pointing out the absurdity of the claims. He had however included one letter telling her that Ron was furious and was now sleeping on the sofa after saying something along the lines of 'that Slytherin bastard better not lay a filthy ferret paw on my Hermione' in front of Lavender. Harry had also pointed out the hilarity of that situation.

Despite the fact Ron and Hermione were not currently friends, and quite possibly never would be again, Harry was determined to remain friends with each of them. He'd been nervous to tell Hermione, even after agreeing that Ron was a rat bastard and hexing him in the middle of the street, but Hermione had understood. Harry had been friends with Ron for even longer than Hermione, and he was also his brother-in-law. They would have to see each other regularly regardless, and it was just easier to make peace.

Hermione didn't mind, but she still avoided attending any event she knew Ron would be at. Or she had, until the Christmas Gala.

Hermione sighed. The list of men she was currently trying to avoid was growing. Hermione didn't want to see Ron for obvious reasons, she was avoiding Draco mostly because she had no idea what she would say to him and she planned on avoiding Blaise because she had no idea what he might say to her.

A little part of her had been annoyed that Blaise seemingly knew about their tryst but seeing as Hermione had blabbed to Ginny only hours after it had happened, she didn't really have a leg to stand on.

Hermione threw the note she had received from Draco back on her table and huffed into the bathroom. She was preparing herself for yet another event. She hated the holiday season, too many parties and stuffy ballrooms with evenings spent parading herself around as a war hero while convincing rich men who had done nothing when Voldemort rose to power to part with their money.

Hermione had tried to get out of the W.O.F.'s New Years celebration but seeing as she'd had a hand in organising it her boss, Mary, had baulked at the idea. Except that Hermione actually didn't feel great. She'd been exhausted for the last few days, and now she was pretty sure she was getting cramps. Hermione had even flipped open her diary to find the little red marks plotting her monthly, to double-check if she was due soon. She still had another seven days, and she'd been pretty regular since the war ended and she wasn't stressed about dying every other day.

Regardless, Hermione was going. W.O.F.'s New Year's party had become quite the social event over the last two years, and many affluent people would be in attendance. She was to look pretty, talk up all the good the organisation had done and get more donations. The second part was the only instruction she was confident she could get right. She did love her job; she just didn't like this aspect. Thankfully for the rest of the year, Hermione was generally left alone. Except in May, but she didn't mind attending the memorials. She would have done that anyway. It was just the various social events of the year she didn't appreciate, and with Christmas and New Years so close it seemed all the worst to have to do her hair and squeeze into a dress twice barely a week apart.

Hermione hadn't asked Ginny to do her hair this time, she didn't want to discuss the note she'd received or the guestlist for the evening. Hermione, having been given the job of sending and receiving invites, knew exactly who was attending. She'd been annoyed, and then annoyed at being annoyed, when she'd received the rsvp from Malfoy Industries informing her that Draco would be attending and that he would be bringing a plus one.

Not that she should be annoyed. She had no right to be annoyed. She… was really, really annoyed.

Hermione pulled her hair back from her face and charmed another bobby pin into her hair. It was a more straightforward hairstyle than what Ginny could do, but Hermione didn't want Ginny to see just how much sleeping with Draco had phased her. It was Draco bloody Malfoy of all people. The sex may have been incredible, but it didn't change the fact that he'd tormented her at Hogwarts and fought on the wrong side for most of the war. Pining after him was a step too far in Hermione's book. She needed some peace and quiet before the evening to calm herself and rein in the jealous little beast that had sunk its claws into her recently.

As if it wasn't bad enough that Draco and his apparent date would be in attendance, but Ginny and Harry would be there too. Ronald, thankfully, had declined. Hermione's boss hadn't been pleased about it as she was hoping for the trifecta of war heroes, but she had settled with two-thirds of the Golden Trio and a promise that Ginny would invite several Quidditch players.

Her hair now pinned in place with a dozen spells, most of a tub of Sleekeazy, and all the bobby pins she owned, Hermione took the dress off the back of the door and changed. She'd gone for a much conservative dress this time. Partially because the green dress had caused far too much trouble and because this was technically a work event. Still, it was a formal event and gowns were required. Hermione reminded herself to thank Padma when she saw her later that night.

She slipped into the soft pink dress. She felt far less exposed in the A-line design and swished the tulle skirts, amused as they swirled around her. The sheer sleeves were decorated with delicate black patterns and matched the fine embroidery on the waist.

She was ready. She was also late. Hermione groaned, wishing she could put this off.

Hermione smiled, a tight thin-lipped look as the old wizard who had just managed to compliment her work ethic and her 'bosoms' in the same sentence departed for the punch bowl. She reminded herself never to shop at the bookshop in Hogsmeade again, she refused to give any more of her money to the sleazy misogynist. Only a ten-minute conversation with the man and Hermione's 'womanly wiles' were about to manifest by way of her pulling off a shoe and smacking him with it.

An arm slipped into hers, and Hermione sighed in relief as Ginny smirked at her.

"Want me to hex him with some bat-bogies?" She asked, and Hermione laughed.

"No. Save your energy." She said, pulling Ginny closer. "When did you get here?"

"Just now," Ginny replied, she pulled back and swished her dress. "How do I look?"

A deep blue gown hugged Ginny's waist, and hips then billowed into a full skirt just past her knees. Hermione never felt comfortable in the mermaid style dresses but Ginny looked stunning. She told her so, and Ginny stoked the skirt of Hermione's attire with a wink.

"And you." She said, "Hoping to attract a certain blond Slytherin with that dress, are you?"

Ginny raised an eyebrow and wiggled them suggestively. Hermione smacked Ginny's hand away from her skirt and looked around nervously, despite the fact all the people near them were clearly engaged in their own conversations.

"Shh." Hermione scowled at Ginny. "No, I am not."

Hermione took two drinks from the nearby floating tray and stuffed one into Ginny's hand. She sipped her own, purposefully having taken the light pink drink she knew was non-alcoholic to avoid a repeat of the last function she had attended and looked around the room. Hermione had repetitively scanned the area ever since she'd arrived. It was unclear if she was looking for Draco or making sure he wasn't there.

"Besides," Hermione muttered, the bitter edge creeping in accidentally, "he's here with a date."

"Yes." An amused voice said from behind her. "And I hear they're terribly stunning."

Hermione almost leapt out of her skin. She turned to find Blaise smirking mirthlessly at her.

"A one of a kind, Italian black-haired beauty." He continued as he reached their little circle. He was clearly enjoying himself. "I've even heard they are the most incredible lover and that they're-"

"They're you." Hermione groaned, catching his game and remembering the guest list did not include the wizard.

"You're not jealous, are you, Hermione?" Blaise rocked up on the balls of his feet and then back while he lifted an eyebrow mockingly. "I promise it's strictly professional."

Ginny, still beside Hermione, gave a snort and Hermione flashed the pair of them a glare.

"No, I am not." Hermione's voice was a little too shrill to be entirely believable. "Now if you two will excuse me, I have work to do this evening."

She stormed off, leaving the strange pair to their gossiping. Hermione realised too late that it probably wasn't a good idea, but regardless, she hadn't been lying, there were people she needed to greet and speak to. She'd even prepared herself a list of potential donation candidates for an upcoming project on the protection and population establishment of Bowtruckles in Hogwart's forbidden forest.

Hermione spoke to everyone on her list and a ridiculous amount more as the night wore on. She managed to talk to Harry for a few moments, but as he didn't often go to social events, every witch and wizard in attendance seemed to want a piece of him. Hermione would have pitied his wife, but the few times Hermione saw Ginny, she and Blaise were amusing themselves either by taking advantage of the buffet table or competing to see who could change the most decorations into bizarre bright colours. Madeline would have a fit and Hermione lifted an eyebrow to them, trying to warn them as she saw the short blonde witch from W.O.F. bearing down on their hijinks. Sometimes Hermione forgot Ginny took after the twins far more than any other Weasley.

Hermione had seen Draco only once since Blaise arrived. He'd been talking to the head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports and Hermione had been dragged into the conversation by the young Dennis Creevey as she'd attempted to sneak behind Draco, desperately hoping he wouldn't see her. Poor luck won out, however, when she found herself standing next to him, nodding to Creevey and unable to think of an excuse to leave. His hand had brushed against her arm as they stood shoulder to shoulder, the delicate touch grazing her skin and setting her heart racing. She was terrified the whole group would hear it as it pounded against her chest and in her ears.

She'd dared look up at him only once, just as he'd looked down and it was like getting trapped in thick honey. Every part of her screamed to look away and pay attention to whatever the Department head was talking about, but the movement was painfully slow, and Hermione was sure her cheeks burned before she managed to escape his grey eyes. They were bright and amused, staring at her as Draco sipped on his Champagne. Something in them danced with a carnal recognition, a flash of I-know-what-you-look-like-under-that-dress that could cause her to blush without a word exchanged.

The moment had caused a small lull in the conversation, Hermione had utterly forgotten to reply to whatever question she'd been asked. When she heard Padma call her name, she'd quickly excused herself and fled to the other side of the room.

Unfortunately, Hermione had only managed to thank Padma for the dress and promise her they would have another dinner soon before being dragged away by Mary and pushed towards a group of Wizengamot members. She'd had even less success with them, most too drunk by now to care about anything she could mention in regards to new legislation. Typical.

It was getting late into the evening and drinks flowed freely, seeing as they had generously been supplied by a local company. Most conversations turned to New Year's predictions. Hermione didn't particularly care what the coming year brought; it would be a near sight better than the past year no matter what happened. She'd just managed to escape a conversation with two women who were desperately trying to predict who would be getting married and who would be having babies soon. Ron, of course, was on the first list, while Harry and Ginny managed to get a hopeful inclusion to the second. Hermione had slunk away before her future could be contemplated.

Mary, who was far too sloshed for a work event, corralled everyone a few minutes before midnight to the outdoor area in preparation for the fireworks and Hemione wondered if she could make a break for it. She was exhausted. She just wanted to go home and get away from the vast assortment of witches and wizards, their constant conversation and the overpowering perfume that seemed to be a trend tonight.

She was halfway to the cloakroom before she got caught.

"Why is it, Hermione," a soft voice said in the dark corner of the corridor, "you never stay for the speeches?"

Hermione paused, caught between ignoring him and running away. Slowly she turned, Draco's face was partially covered in shadow as he leant against the wall. He wore dark dress robes again and watched her closely.

"I could ask you the same thing, Malfoy."

Draco's smirk dropped, and he pushed himself off the wall.

"Malfoy, is it?" He said with an annoyed eyebrow raise. "Here I was thinking we weren't allowed to use last names after we-"

"Shh." Hermione interrupted him and looked around. There was no one there, the rest of the party had gone the other direction to await the count down. Still, Hermione worried. She grabbed Draco by the hand and dragged him further down the corridor to a window alcove of the old building.

Draco allowed her to tug him along, looking bemused as she hissed,

"What are you doing? Do you want people to hear you?"

"I'm pretty sure everyone is busy thinking about their own midnight snog outside." He said, his eyes drifting to her lips and Hermione swallowed.

She opened her mouth, then closed it again. She wanted to snap at Draco, tell him he was being a presumptuous pig but damn it, her brain wasn't communicating with her mouth. Instead, she bit her lip as she eyed his smirk. Merlin, he just had to mention snogging, didn't he?

"Hermione..." He purred, a wickedly seductive tone she knew would get him anything he wanted as he took a step closer to her.

She could have backed away, slipped back down the corridor and left him there. She didn't. She didn't move as his body got closer to hers. Until one hand tugged at Hermione's waist and the other tipped her head up to his. She slid a hand up his arm, knowing this was an incredibly bad idea. Just as it had been last time. She should have learned her lesson, but instead every fibre of her being begged him to touch her more.

Has he always been this alluring, Hemione wondered to herself, surely she would have noticed how well he'd matured before this if he had. It must be the alcohol, that was why she was feeling this inescapable yearn again. Except she hadn't drunk any alcohol this evening. Shit. She'd purposely kept away from it so she wouldn't end up craving Draco's touch in a dark corridor just like last time.

"Happy new year." He whispered as his eyes met hers, and she crashed her lips against his, unable to wait any longer.

Draco wrapped both hands around her waist, pulling her snug against his chest as he opened her mouth to him, his tongue pushing into hers. She moaned into him as her hands curled up around his neck, she had to balance on the tips of her short heels to reach him. Feeling her struggle, he bent and lifted her. She wrapped her legs around his waist without hesitation, knowing exactly how to hold onto his body like it was second nature. Draco pushed her against the wall, one hand cupping her arse as he pushed himself against her.

Hermione broke the kiss with a gasp as she felt him nudge her through the fabric of the dress. Draco took the opportunity to kiss down her neck, sucking a new bruise onto her skin. Marking her as she hummed in pleasure, her head tilted back and hands tangling in his hair.

Draco's hand went to her exposed calf and slid up, managing to find its way under her dress and higher to her thighs. Hermione's eyes rolled, her body was reacting to his touch desperately, she could feel the damp patch on her knickers already as if anticipating and remembering the way he'd felt. She knew what he could do to her body.

Draco's hand reached the damp fabric between her legs, and he groaned into her neck. Hermione felt him smirk against her skin and was sure she was about to get some comment about her actually wearing knickers when loud banging interrupted them.

Both Hermione and Draco jerked their heads back. The fizzing pops and explosions of fireworks filled the air along with a cheering crowd. Hermione could see out of the corner of the window, the colourful explosions filling the night's sky as they raced and spun merrily. Unfortunately, they also sent Hermione crashing back down to earth.

She was at a work function. She was in a venue filled with her colleagues, her boss and her best friends, not to mention the photographers. Hermione sighed. What are you doing? She asked herself. You're meant to be a rational woman. Now one man touches you, and you lose complete control? Hermione realised what they were about to do was a mistake. They'd discovered that their bodies worked well together, but Hermione wasn't the kind of person that wanted random one nights stands or even regular sex without a relationship and a relationship with Draco Malfoy was out of the question. They may have had undeniable chemistry, but Hermione knew they wouldn't work together as anything more. They were too different as people and too connected by their past.

She was still tangled in Draco's arms. She unwrapped her legs from his waist and let her feet drop back down to the floor. Her movement caused Draco to shift his attention from the window back to her. Hermione removed her hands from his hair, it was now very distinctly messed. A small part of her relished the sight of him. Draco's hair was now messy, his lips swollen from her attention and his eyes still darkened with lust. Hermione pushed the thought away, willing herself to be strong. She looked down and sighed as she straightened her dress. Draco must have understood her change and stepped back, giving her some space.

"I, uh-" Hermione stopped not sure how to explain.

When she looked up, Draco looked a little hurt but not surprised.

"I should go." She mumbled finally, "People will be coming through here soon."

Draco looked disappointed but gave a small, curt nod. He dipped his head, and when she didn't pull away, he pecked her gently on the lips, saying sweetly. "Goodnight, Hermione"

The kiss was soft and gentle. Hermione's lips begged to chase after them, recapturing and forcing them into something harder, but she resisted. She gave him a sad sort of smile and slipped by him, walking down the corridor to the entry hall where the floo was. As she walked away, Draco called after her,

"Hey, Granger." He said, flashing her a dangerous smirk. "If you ever change your mind, you know where to find me."

Hermione pulled on her last scrap of confidence and called back.

"In your dreams, Malfoy."

Hermione paused in the doorway, looking at him, perfectly ruffled and ridiculously handsome.

"Oh, definitely." He said, grinning at her. "Every night."

They didn't make the front page this time. There was no article about them, and they had apparently managed not to get caught in their midnight snog. Probably because the photographers were too busy outside taking pictures of the other couples indulging in their new years kiss. There were undoubtedly some unusual pairs, most of which Hermione suspected were jokes.

There was a picture of Ginny and Harry, of course, looking completely enamoured with each other. Blaise it seemed, had had a little too much wine and kissed the Minister of Magic on the nose while fireworks exploded in the sky behind them. While amusing, there was very little scandal to be found.

Hermione and Draco hadn't escaped wholly unscathed, however. There was, tucked on the fifth page of the Prophet where they'd detailed the social event and the rich and famous who had attended, a photo taken of their prolonged eye contact from earlier in the evening. It could have been explained innocently enough, but there was a short descriptor under the picture that made Hermione scowl.

'W.O.F. employee, Hermione Granger, and head of Malfoy Industries, Draco Malfoy, while attending separately, appeared enamoured with the sight of one another. Seen recently at the Malfoy Christmas Gala together are these two in the thralls of young love or perhaps regretting a Christmas fling?'

For a paper that so often got it incredibly wrong, they certainly seemed to be hitting the nail on the head this time.

Thankfully, without any more photos for proof, no one had tried to approach Hermione about the subject. She'd survived the rest of the week and was soon too buried in work to give Draco and his offer much further thought.

Hermione flopped onto her sofa and sighed. She was ridiculously tired and beginning to think she was coming down with a stomach bug, that or she was in for one hell of a nasty monthly. Padma had invited her out for drinks, something they regularly did on a Wednesday but Hermione had declined. She had cramps, a sore stomach and almost vomited when one of the young interns had heated up his lunch. Though why anyone would heat up fish in an enclosed space, she didn't know, it stank to high heavens.

Instead of spending time in the crowded Leaky Cauldron, Hermione curled up on her sofa, found a cheesy muggle movie and ended up crying when the dog died. So much for a light-hearted comedy, she'd gone through the last of her tissues. However the next day, a Thursday, the small smear of blood in her pants had Hermione snorting at herself. She'd been cursing at the directors of the movie all night, but she may have just been a little emotional due to hormones.

She'd finished out the week, securing the funding needed for two different projects and was feeling pretty satisfied with herself.

Saturday morning, however, had her shooting out of bed with a sudden terrifying realisation.

"Oh, gods." She'd whispered sitting on the toilet with absolutely no evidence of her period.

She'd been due on Tuesday; she hadn't worried however when it was a few days late because who actually has a 28-day cycle. There had definitely been some spotting on Thursday, which had tricked her into a relaxed state and she didn't notice on Friday that she hadn't used any kind of sanitary product after her shower. She hadn't needed to either, the bleeding stopped. She didn't have her period. It was now Saturday, not entirely outside the realm of possibility but most certainly late for her period.

Hermione pulled up her pyjama bottoms, washed her hands and then chewed on her nails.

Shit.

She usually had a few days' variation but not like this, not five days.

Shit. Shit.

Most months she wouldn't have to worry. She wasn't usually sexually active, but this month had been different.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

They'd used protection, they'd almost forgotten, but Hermione had cast the contraceptive charm before anything had happened. Hermione still chewed on her nails. You didn't use your own wand, a part of her brain whispered, and you were drunk.

Hermione paced around the sitting room and muttered to herself for a while. It was like she was trying to will her period into existence. After a while she realised it was stupid, and she just needed to give herself some more time and not stress.

Five days didn't mean anything.

Hermione threw herself into cleaning then, she scrubbed every inch of the little flat until it sparkled. She cleaned the muggle way until her back ached and her eyes were beginning to close on their own. She dropped into bed at eleven and fell asleep.

She only managed to sleep for a few hours. Hermione woke in a deep sweat at three in the morning after she dreamt that she'd been walking in Diagon alley when suddenly a tidal wave forced her off a cliff and into the murky ocean below. Hermione shuddered, it had been both horrifying and ridiculous. She lay awake for hours, alternating between staring at the clock and running to the bathroom every time she convinced herself she felt any kind of dampness between her legs.

She hoped every time it would be blood, but it never appeared. Hermione looked at the calendar before going back to bed. She'd had sex with Draco precisely 21 days ago. She'd only be three weeks along if she really was pregnant. Could you even test that early? She was pretty sure it was too soon to tell definitively for muggle tests, and she didn't even know what wizarding tests looked like.

Hermione may have prided herself on her in-depth knowledge on a lot of things, but babies weren't included on that list. It wasn't like Hogwarts kept books on sex, pregnancy and babies on the shelves for children to read. In fact, when it came to sex education, Hogwarts was severely lacking. Hermione presumed they expected parents to take over that education. And Hermione's parent had the sex talk with her, they'd even bought her a large pink book about all the 'changes her body would go through'. It focused more on puberty than on what to do if she was concerned she'd accidentally gotten knocked up.

Hermione groaned. Her vast accounts of knowledge and she was utterly lost. She knew how it all worked, of course, she had even learnt contraception spells from…

Of course! Hermione sat bolt right up in her bed. Ginny. Ginny was a bloody encyclopedia on sex and pregnancy. Not because she wanted to be but because she was a Prewett and likely to get pregnant just from looking at a man.

Hermione glanced at the clock. It was only six in the morning, possibly a little early to go barging over to the Potter's house and begging Ginny to tell her what to do. She'd wait until eight. Then she would barge.

By 7:55, Hermione had showered, dressed, cleaned her kettle, brushed her teeth four times and rearranged her bookshelves.

She couldn't wait any longer. She threw some floo powder into her fireplace yelled

"Potter cottage." And stormed into a quaint little sitting room.

Hermione scared the living daylights out of Harry when she stormed into their kitchen. He'd been standing in his boxers and filling the teapot with the kettle. When Hermione skittered in on the tiles and yelled, "Where is your wife?" far too loudly for any rational person at eight in the morning on a Sunday, Harry spilt boiling water across the counter and onto the floor.

Harry lifted his feet and cursed, trying not to burn his toes and yelled back.

"In bed! What the hell is going on?"

Hermione ran back out of the room, calling over her shoulder as she took the stairs two at a time.

"I need to borrow her. Don't come up here!"

Hermione burst into the Potter's bedroom and climbed directly into the bed with the redhead.

"Ginny, wake up!" Hermione said, shaking her friend not too politely by the shoulders.

Ginny's eyes opened groggily,

"'Mione?" she asked, confused as her head lolled around from the shaking.

It wasn't the first time she had woken up with Hermione in their bed. The last time was when she had discovered Ron had left. She'd crawled in-between Harry and Ginny and wept while they comforted her. Seeing her now, frantic as she shook her, Ginny's heart started to race, and she grabbed onto Hermione's own shoulders.

"What happened? What's wrong?" She said, eyes wide but slightly relieved when Hermione stopped shaking her.

"My period is late." Hermione wailed.

Ginny frowned, then her eyebrows raised.

"Oh." She said.

Hermione's lip quivered, and Ginny lifted the blanket. Hermione tucked herself under it and faced Ginny.

"Ok," Ginny said, taking charge with a decisive nod while Hermione pulled the blanket up around her neck. "How late?"

"Five days… No, more like six now." Hermione groaned.

Ginny considered it. Again, it wasn't insignificant, but it wasn't like Hermione was weeks late. It could be nothing.

"Were you... safe?" Hermione's eyes flickered, and Ginny gasped. "Hermione Granger, you are the smartest witch I know, and you didn't use any protection?"

"No, we did." Hermione groaned, "I used the contraceptive charm, but I was drunk, and I wasn't using my own wand and…"

"The charm is only 98% effective." Ginny nodded, patting Hermione's shoulder.

Hermione covered her mouth with her hand and choked back a terrified sob.

"Ginny, what do I do?" She pleaded with her friend, desperate for some guidance.

Ginny sat up in the bed, looking down sternly.

"Well, the first thing we do is take a pregnancy test."

Hermione frowned,

"But it was only three weeks ago, can you tell yet? Most muggle tests aren't effective until…"

"Five weeks." Ginny said, "Wizarding tests are the same. When was your last menstruation?"

Ginny had gone into clinical mode now so when Hermione wrinkled her nose and asked "Why?" she patted her shoulder and explained.

"You calculate weeks pregnant from the date of your last menstruation, not from the shagging."

Hermione wrinkled her nose again, this time at the complete lack of technical terms. Still, she contemplated.

"Tenth of December." She said finally, counting it off on her hand.

"Ok," Ginny said, counting on her fingers for some quick maths. "So, you'd potentially be in week 5 now." Ginny grinned "We can test!"

Hermione's eyes widened. Then a knock on the door interrupted them. Hermione stuffed herself under the blanket, she couldn't face Harry right now. She definitely couldn't face Harry if he had just overheard what they were talking about.

"Is everything alright in there?" His muffled voice said through the door.

"Harry," Ginny yelled, "You know I love you but bugger off!"

"Ginny!"

"Sorry."

She heard grumbling from the hall,

"I need some clothes. We're meant to be meeting George for a Quidditch game, Gin."

Ginny sighed,

"Bollocks."

She pulled herself out of bed, grabbed a pile of clothes from the chair and opened the door. Harry tried to lean around Ginny and spot Hermione, but she was still buried under the blanket, knowing that if she met his eye, she would confess everything. Ginny pushed the clothes into Harry's arms as she gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"I'm not coming." She told him, "and if you see Ronald, tell him I said he's a git."

Harry opened his mouth to say something, but Ginny's voice lowered.

"Harry, please."

Sensing Ginny's determination and the concern in her voice, Harry nodded.

"Alright." He said, giving the Hermione sized lump a sad look, "Call me if you need anything."

Ginny nodded and closed the door in Harry's face. He grumbled some more before they heard the bathroom door close, and the shower started.

"Alright," Ginny said, returning to the side of the bed and poking Hermione.

"Ouff," she grumbled. "Don't!"

"Get up." Ginny demanded, "We're going to Diagon Alley to get some pregnancy tests."

Hermione's head darted out of the blanket.

"Oh, Ginny, please no." She groaned, "if anyone sees me, I'm doomed. Can't we just get some muggle ones?"

Ginny thought about it.

"We'll apparate to the Leaky then you go into muggle London and get the muggle tests. I'll go to Diagon Alley. I'm half Prewett so no one would even bat an eye if I bought them. Some of my cousins take one every month just to be sure."

Hermione frowned at her.

"No, seriously," Ginny said, "It's a bloody curse. How else do you think Mum ended up with so many kids?"

"Faulty contraceptive charms?" Hermione said with a shrug.

Ginny lifted an eyebrow.

"You'd know all about that now wouldn't you."

Hermione groaned and flopped back into the bed.

"I can't do it, Ginny!" She said into the blanket, "What if I am pregnant?"

Ginny grabbed Hermione's arms and tried to haul the dead weight out of bed.

"Let's deal with that once we know for sure." She grunted the words as she pulled Hermione.

It took almost another ten minutes of Ginny pulling and bribing Hermione out of bed. She also threatened and prodded. Eventually, however, they apparated to Diagon Alley. Hermione slipped through the empty pub and out into muggle London while Ginny went to the apothecary. Twenty minutes later, Hermione stole back through the Leaky Cauldron, looking incredibly guilty, and Ginny rolled her eyes at her as she approached.

"You look like you've just stolen those pregnancy tests, Hermione."

Hermione shushed her and muttered,

"I didn't know which brand to get, so I got all four."

Ginny snorted but replied,

"I got three too. There are no brands, but I thought we'd better be safe than sorry."

Hermione drank three large glasses of water while Ginny watched her curiously then they apparated back to Ginny's house. Harry had left when they arrived, and Ginny dumped all the tests they'd bought on the counter.

"So," she said, looking at them curiously, "Which ones do you want to do first?"

Hermione sighed,

"I need to go anyway," she said anxiously, "let's do the muggle ones first."

Ginny raised an eyebrow.

"Go?"

"To the loo?"

"What does that have to do with a pregnancy test?"

Hermione paused, then snorted.

"It's how muggle tests work. What do wizarding ones test?"

Ginny pulled a face.

"You just need a drop of blood. Ew, it really tests your wee?"

Hermione nodded, grimacing at the inconvenience a little. Ginny shrugged and handed the boxes to Hermione.

"Have fun." She said.

Hermione rolled her eyes and walked nervously into the bathroom. She was really doing this. Peeing on a bloody stick to determine her whole future. Great. Hermione ripped the boxes open and pulled out the four tests. She lay them on the counter and stood in front of the toilet.

Just do it, Hermione. Just get it done.

Hermione breathed out and pulled down her jeans.

When she emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, Ginny was sitting at the dining table, a rack with three little vials in it.

"What do they say?" Ginny asked, clearly impatient and a little excited.

Hermione couldn't blame her, if it wasn't happening to her and downright terrifying, she'd be a little excited too. Hermione shrugged,

"Not sure, they take two minutes to work." Hermione put three tests down on a little piece of paper towel. She put the box she carried with the remaining one on the table as well. "I only managed three, they're not exactly the easiest things to do."

Ginny snorted, then pulled her face into a controlled look.

"Let's do these while we wait." She said, nodding to the vials. "They take five minutes to work."

Hermione nodded and looked at the clear vials while Ginny pulled the stoppers out. She took Hermione's hand when she offered it and used her wand to prick a hole on Hermione's hand.

"Ow," Hermione muttered as Ginny squeezed her finger over each vial, letting a drop of blood fall into each one.

Ginny re-stoppered each vial and shook them vigorously before placing them back in the rack.

"Now what?" Hermione mumbled, sucking her finger.

"We wait." Ginny shrugged.

Hermione sighed and leant back in the chair. Ginny patted her knee affectionately as it bounced nervously.

Hermione looked at her watch. It had been one minute and forty-five seconds.

"Are they ready?" Ginny asked, looking at the little plastic sticks on the table.

"Almost," Hermione said. "Gods, I can't do it, Ginny. Look at them for me, please?"

"Ok," Ginny said, picking up the sticks delicately and staring at them. "I have no idea what this means."

"One line for negative, two lines for positive."

"Ah," Ginny said, frowning.

"Ah?" Hermione said.

"What if…" Ginny hesitated, "What if two say one thing and one says another?"

Hermione shot out of her chair.

"What?"

Ginny shrugged, holding all three tests. Hermione hesitated,

"What… what exactly does it say?"

Ginny looked at Hermione, contemplating whether her friend was ready, then laid out the tests on the table.

"Those two say positive, and that one says negative."

Hermione stared at them.

"I.." she paused, "Are they defective?"

Ginny shrugged.

"Or you're two thirds pregnant."

That earned her a glare. Suddenly Hermione was shoving the remaining test at her,

"Here, you try this one."

"What?" She asked, "Why?"

"So we know if they're defective."

"Hermione!" Ginny said, trying to explain the flaw in her logic as she was shoved towards the bathroom. "Fine!"

Apparently, Hermione had lost all logic in the face of her possible pregnancy. She paced around the sitting room, waiting for Ginny. It took her almost a full two minutes before she realised Ginny taking a different brands test would prove nothing.

"Idiot." She muttered to herself, looking up at the ceiling.

Suddenly Ginny burst out of the bathroom, test in one hand and paper in the other.

"Hermione!" She yipped. "Look, this says it takes three minutes, not two!"

Hermione grabbed the paper out of her hand. She'd read three of the four pamphlets before realising they were almost the exact same. Unfortunately, she's missed the only one that was different. Clearly, this experience was messing with her, Hermione Granger had never neglected her readings until now.

"Oh god, Ginny, check it again."

Ginny was already in the kitchen, test in hand.

"What does it say?" Hermione asked.

Ginny didn't answer. Hermione looked over her shoulder at the plastic sticks that predicted her future.

"Oh, god." She muttered, "Oh Jesus."

Ginny wasn't looking at the test. She smacked Hermione's arm and pointed at the three vials in the rack.

"Hermione, look," Ginny said in a whisper. "They're turning purple."

"Purple?" Hermione looked, and they were, all three vials were turning a bright shade of purple.

"Ginny." Hermione gulped. "What does purple mean?"

Ginny was too busy staring at them, mouth agape. She'd seen the results of the muggle tests, but it hadn't sunk in until the wizarding tests.

"Pregnant." Said a strained voice behind Hermione, "Purple means pregnant."

Hermione and Ginny turned, their shocked faces meeting the equally shocked face of Harry. He stood there, back door open and an old broom in hand.

"Who," he said, his voice cracking and strained, "Who's pregnant?"

His eyes darted between Hermione and Ginny. Neither woman moved, and Harry quietly closed the door behind him.

"Who's pregnant?" He asked again, his face slowly turning white.

Ginny was the one to put him out of his misery.

"Hermione." She said, with a gulp and Harry let out a sagging breath.

"Oh, god," Hermione said, just now taking in the full meaning. She backed up and sank into one of the kitchen chairs. "I'm pregnant."

Ginny nodded and looked sympathetic. Harry still looked shocked. Hermione sank her hands into her head.

She was pregnant. A baby was growing inside of her. Oh god, she hadn't really considered it like that. Like a real potential human was inside her, growing. Hermione stared at the floor. What the hell was she meant to do? Was she ready for this?

It wasn't like she could just go with the flow and decide later. She couldn't just turn around when the kid was four and say 'you know what, this isn't for me actually'. There was so much to deal with, too much to deal with.

Hermione groaned. How had this happened? Actually, she knew exactly how this had happened: far too much fire whisky, a lot of poor decision making and Draco Malfoy.

Hermione's eyes grew wide. Draco. She wasn't just pregnant. She was pregnant with someone's child. She was pregnant with Draco bloody Malfoy's child. Oh, gods.

"Ginny." Hermione looked up at her friend, who watched her with concern. "How am I going to tell Draco I'm pregnant?"

A clattering sound echoed around the room, and Hermione looked up to see Harry, his face slack while the broom rolled along the kitchen floor towards her foot.

"You slept with Malfoy?"

Hullo!

I just wanted to say a massive thank you to everyone who has left a review, favourite or a follow for the first two chapters; I'm honestly floored at the response this strange little plunny as gathered. I'm not as good at replying to reviews on ffn as on AO3, mostly because I'm awkward but if you do have any questions I'll always try to reply.

Anyway, I hoped you enjoyed this chapter! I'll try and have chapter 4 up on Thursday night (in AEST time).

Until then eat a cookie, you deserve it.

Nif.