I do not own Harry Potter. Everything is J.K. Rowling's, alas.

For a few weeks I didn't hear a peep from Draco. I'd get the occasional memo about something or other, but he refrained from stepping foot in my office. There was talk around the water cooler (which magically refilled itself, saving our department some money) that he and I had been forced apart by clan Weasley and we were both wasting away from forbidden love. Someone actually had the gall to wave the Quibbler about as an example of our star-crossed (or, as she put it, Veela-crossed) situation. I put an end to that talk pretty firmly by grabbing the Quibbler out of said person's hand (okay, it was Marlene again) and ripping the issue to pieces.

"I think I've made it pretty clear to everyone that I'm seeing Ron," I announced to the small group that had just witnessed my temper tantrum. "If you don't believe me, go ask him yourself. I'm sure the door to his Auror's office is always open for suggestions. Or, better yet," I went on, "ask Malfoy, instead of gossiping like a bunch of old crows. Now get back to work." I tossed my wand from hand to hand. "Scoot!"

They scooted. Mr. Cronklewold visited my office briefly to suggest that the next time I had a problem with my gossiping, hateful coworkers (though he didn't phrase it quite that way) that I come see him first, rather than threaten them with bodily harm. I didn't point out that I hadn't meant bodily harm- perhaps a memory modification charm or two, but no hexes, certainly. He left again, satisfied.

And peace descended once more on my humble office filled with rare goblin scrolls until well towards the end of my fourth month. It was nice to be out of the first trimester- I hadn't had terrible morning sickness, but with the fourth month it had promised to abate some, and we were nearing the end of November when Draco finally broke the restless silence.

I heard the knock on my door and looked up as he strode in and took a seat. "You should have some more news, correct?" he said, inspecting his fingernails.

"We did, as a matter of fact," I said cautiously. Ron still thought Draco was up to something, so I was trying to be careful around him, for fear of setting off whatever it was he was planning, or setting off Ron for what he might perceive as "getting too close."

"Well? Let's hear it." He seemed glum and melancholy and I felt that twinge of sympathy again.

"I got you a copy of the printout this time," I said, handing a paper to him. "Everything is developing normally. And we're still not sure about sex.."

Draco said, raised an eyebrow. "Hmm." His fingers ghosted along this photo like he'd done with the other and he almost smiled. He glanced up and caught me staring at him and quickly frowned and sat up. "And you- you're doing alright?"

"I am," I replied. I rested my hands on my burgeoning stomach. I was still small, but I was definitely showing now.

"Do you, er, need anything?"

I stared at him. What was he asking? He caught my eye briefly and looked away again.

"Do you mean money? No, nothing of the kind," I finally said after a moment. "I'm fine, it's fine- everything is coming along as it should."

Draco sat there silently, staring at the picture for a few more minutes before his head suddenly jerked up. "And Weasley? Still not letting you see me?"

"Honestly, Malfoy," I said, feeling my own ire rise, "I told you that was my decision, too."

"We could be friends," he insisted. "No matter what you say now- you came to me that time- and last month, we had a nice time, talking-"

I frowned. Where was this coming from? "Malfoy, we barely talked at all, about anything that Saturday. Mostly I felt tense and awkward. And the only time we slept together was because I was drunk and angry and you were clearly trashed- I'm still shocked you remember any of it!"

He looked unbearably angry for a minute, then sad and lonely, and then his face shut down again. "Who says I was so drunk?" he murmured, standing up. "That's how you remember it, Granger. That's not how I remember it."

"But- if you- weren't- why would you- that makes no sense, Malfoy!" I exclaimed, suddenly very confused and more than a little upset. My voice dropped to a whisper. "You didn't- oh my God. You played me. It was all an act!"

He smirked at me, but the smirk slid off his face when he saw my tears of frustration and anger.

"Get out!" I yelled at him.

"Granger, I was- I didn't mean-"

"The lady said get out, Malfoy," Ron growled from behind the ferrety wizard. Draco spun about and stood nose to nose with Ron for a brief, strained second before he turned away and vanished from the doorway. I began wiping my cheeks. I felt like an utter fool. Not only had my revenge plan completely backfired, Malfoy had been playing me the entire time as well. I was a total, massive idiot that had let my feelings get in the way of the brain that I loved so well. I guess that meant I was definitely a girl, at least.

Ron shut my door and crossed the room in one easy stride, pulling out his handkerchief and helping to wipe my eyes before he handed it to me so I could blow my nose.

"There, love," he whispered. "What did he do? Tell me and I'll give him a solid one for you. Seriously, say the word-"

"I hardly want- the entire team of- Aurors- going to Azkaban for- beating up- Malfoy," I stammered out around my tears.

Ron laughed softly. "We wouldn't go to Azkaban for something trifling like that," he assured me. That only made me cry harder. "Come on, tell me what's wrong," he said.

"No, I can't talk about it," I managed to say. "I feel like an idiot. To think I actually felt sorry for him!"

"Alright then, tell Ginny what happened so she can tell me…so then I can curse him into the next life," Ron said in a reasonable tone of voice. It made me giggle and I finally stopped crying.

"Oh," I said, "that feels better. Now, what are you doing up here?"

"I thought, if you're feeling up to it, that I could take you out to eat. Go on a date. What d'you say?"

I smiled weakly. "That does sound nice. Where do you want to go? Can I go home and change first?"

Ron nodded and kissed my forehead. "Take as long as you need. Floo me when you're ready and I'll come pick you up."

"Thank you, Ron," I murmured and he smiled.

"Don't think on it. I'll see you later."

I waved goodbye to him and went home soon after that. I wanted time to take a long, warm, bath and sooth my frazzled and wounded mind.

Unfortunately, it was simply not my day for soothed nerves. I'd just drawn my bath when the doorbell of my flat rang and I wandered out to the hall, robe tied firmly about me, hair up in a loose bun. I looked through the peephole, saw a face I thought I recognized, and opened the door a crack.

"Hello?" I said. "Ms…Greengrass?"

"Yes, that's right." She looked relieved. I opened the door a little wider.

"Would you, er, like to come in?"

"Thank you."

I ushered the other witch in and led her to the kitchen. "Can I get you some tea?"

"No, thanks," she murmured, glancing about herself curiously.

"Please, have a seat. What is it you want to talk about?"

Daphne looked somewhat uncomfortable at my question and cleared her throat. "Well, I guess I wanted to talk to you about, er…Draco. And this situation with your baby."

"What about it?" I said, crossing my arms defensively.

"I want to know how serious you are about him."

"About who?"

"Draco."

My jaw dropped yet again. "Excuse me?"

She shifted about on her stool. "You heard me, Hermione," she said. "Don't play dumb. Everyone knows he's mad about you. No wonder he barely said a word when Astoria broke-up with him- he figured he was home free, knowing you were pregnant-"

"Daphne," I said carefully, not wanting a repeat of that one afternoon by the water cooler, "who, exactly, is this everyone that seems to know Malfoy is mad about me?"

"Oh, you know," she said, waving a hand.

"No, I don't," I replied. "Please, enlighten me."

She looked away and adopted a pose I recognized from Malfoy only too well- staring at the cupboards behind me. Must be a Slytherin thing.

"Well, myself, and- my sister. Our family. Chums from school. You know."

"Your chums from school, you mean?"

"Oh," she looked surprised. "I suppose so, yes. Our housemates."

"So all the Slytherins, apparently," I remarked dryly.

She shifted again. "The thing is," she began abruptly, "Astoria is a very proud girl. She was almost willing to forgive him cheating on her with you, since it was just that once and you, at least, were drunk- we knew you had to be, you'd never shag him if you were sober- although he's the only one who doesn't seem to be able to grasp the concept that you actually can't stand him," she said, almost to herself and in a snaky tone of voice. I could tell that here was a bitter, angry older sister who only wanted her baby sister's happiness. So, she'd sacrificed her own pride in order to come to me and see where I stood on the issue.

"She can have him- he was never mine to begin with and he never will be mine. I don't want him at all."

"And he knows that."

"I've told him so!" I exclaimed. "I'm dating Ron- what do I want with Malfoy? I'm keeping him apprised of the baby's health and development, but that's as far as it goes. If it does turn out to be his, we'll go from there. Not that it's any of yours, or anyone else's, business," I added.

She nodded. "Well, that's the big problem," she murmured. "Like I said, she was almost willing to forgive the cheating. But when he told her you were pregnant, it was the last straw for her. She told him to figure out what he wants and that she wouldn't have him back unless he was willing to leave you and your baby alone."

"Even if he might be the father?" I asked. "That's a little harsh, isn't it?"

"Not to Astoria," Daphne said. "I told you, she's very proud. She doesn't want herself or- well, she doesn't want to be backseat to anyone else in his life."

I looked at her sharply. Daphne was hiding something, but I was too tired and het up at that point to think about it much. Something was bothering me, however.

"So if it was Astoria's decision to leave him and she's given him an ultimatum, why are you here? Why would anything I say or do have a bearing on her decision?"

Daphne stood up. "She's-" she stopped and looked as if she wanted to say a lot more, but then she looked away again. "Let's just say she's upset- in a bad way, really. She's…not regretting her decision, but she still cares about him. She wants him back, but she's too proud to do anything about it. I thought that I would at least come here and try to get some reassurance from you that you would in no way try to influence Draco's final choice."

I held up my hands. "Consider yourself reassured," I told her. "I'll involve him if I have to, after the baby is born, but all I really want is to be with Ron and forget anything ever happened with Malfoy. It's simply an unfortunate side effect of the pregnancy that I can't."

"Thank you," Daphne replied, looking and sounding genuinely pleased with my response. "Your understanding means a lot to me. Well, I'll see you around- and thanks for your honesty."

"You're more than welcome to it," I replied and she smiled in return.

She opted to floo out and I saw her away, then immediately made my way back to the bathroom. My hot bath was cold and I took a deep breath. There was a time, when I was about ten, that the tub full of cold water would have sent me into a crying fit. I still felt a little of the old annoyance, but this time I reached for my wand and murmured a warming spell.

Finally, life's little irritations could be smoothed over with a flick of my wrist. I sighed as I eased myself down into the warm bath and sprinkled some scented oil generously over the top of the water. Then I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. Her visit hadn't taken too much time out of my evening. If I only soaked for thirty minutes, I could still be ready to meet Ron no later than seven thirty. That would give us enough time for a romantic date.

My heart fluttered at the thought.

A second later, I remembered that he'd want to know what had happened at work and it flopped instead. I grit my teeth and sank beneath the surface of the water. Warm baths couldn't fix everything, it seemed, as much as I wanted them to.

AN: I hope we all see what Draco is up to, now (as if you ever doubted it), but have no fear. I think I've made it pretty clear he won't succeed. But what was Daphne really after?