Chapter 3
"Well, it's official, Mrs. Weasley," the mediwitch, Healer Thompson, told her enthusiastically. "It seems you are just about six weeks along."

Hermione sat up and readjusted her shirt. "It's Granger," she mumbled. Sheepishly, the healer corrected herself, and continued to give Hermione instructions for proper prenatal care. With the potions in hand, Hermione left St. Mungo's maternity ward and Apparated to work.

"You're late, Weasley," Lucius Malfoy informed her when she entered her office. He looked at her with great disdain before vacating her chair.

"Was there something you needed, Mr. Malfoy?" she inquired, straining to keep her own contempt for the elder Malfoy out of her voice.

He looked down his nose at her, all the while frowning in disgust at the muggleborn who dared speak back to him. "My son may see you as an asset to this company, but I certainly do not," he stated. "There are hundreds of wizards who could perform this task, and yet he chose you. Believe me when I say, Mrs. Weasley, that the only reason you were given this grant is because of your status."

"My status?" she inquired, clenching her teeth.

"The muggleborn witch who helped Harry Potter bring down the Dark Lord," he replied, saying Harry's name as if it tasted foul against his tongue. "Your name alone has brought in new investors."

"So happy to be of service," she mumbled. "If you don't mind, I have a lot of work to do today."

Lucius took his leave, and for the first time all day, Hermione had a moment of peace and quiet. For an hour she was able to work without interruption. At noon, Draco appeared in her doorway. After several minutes of watching her work, he finally cleared his throat to garner her attention. Dropping her quill, she finally looked up.

"Sorry, Draco, I'm really busy," she told him.

"So, now isn't a good time to ask for a favor then," he stated.

"What sort of favor?" she wondered, glancing at the mountains of files spread out across her desk. Looking up, she noticed for the first time the small blond-haired boy holding Draco's hand. "This must be Scorpius."

The toddler gave her a shy smile as he and Draco approached the desk. Bending down, Draco smoothed back Scorpius's hair and made the introductions. "Poor kid looks exactly like me," Draco remarked with a bit of self deprecating humor.

"Well, I think he's handsome," Hermione stated, her words bringing a blush to the little boy's cheeks. She turned to Draco and asked, "Does this favor have anything to do with watching him?"

Blushing, he nodded. "I have a meeting with my father," he explained. "Scor's technically not supposed to be here."

"So, when your father comes back to harass me and finds him here, I can take the blame?"

Draco's brows furrowed, and she knew she would need to give him some sort of explanation. After giving him an abbreviated version, his frown deepened. "I told him not to bother you," he stated. "I'm sorry about that, Granger. I'll talk to him." Once Hermione reluctantly agreed to watch the little boy, Draco kissed his son goodbye and left her office for his meeting.

Scorpius stared at her with scared, wide, gray eyes. Every few seconds he would glance at the door to see if his father came back, but then he would look to her again. "So, um," she cleared her throat, "what do you do with your dad when he brings you to work?"

Shrugging, he pulled three figurines from his pants pocket and set them on the desk. Hermione looked at them carefully. The first figure she picked up resembled her former headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. The second looked like Harry Potter. Finally, she looked at the third one - Voldemort. The details were uncanny. Each figurine was perfectly crafted to resemble its character. Hermione smiled at the sight of Harry in his old Gryffindor robes. Scorpius handed her Voldemort and said, "Hims is the bad guy. Daddy says hims goes bye-bye."

"He does," she agreed. "And which one is the good guy?"

Scorpius seemed torn between choosing Dumbledore or Harry, and so he presented her with both. "Daddy says Dore was a good guy," he replied. "But so is Harry."

"They were both very good guys," she told him. "In fact, Harry is a very dear friend of mine."

His eyes widened in surprise. "Really?" he asked excited. Hermione nodded her head and smiled at him. "I can see him?"

Hermione collected the toys and handed them to Scorpius. "I think we can arrange that," she replied. "In the mean time, you play and I'll get my work done. Maybe when your dad comes back, we'll get some lunch." She watched him settle down on the floor beside her desk. Quietly, Harry and Voldemort battled each other as she worked. When Harry won, he abandoned the toys on the floor and moved nearer to her chair.

"Miss Her...My..." he stuttered as he attempted to pronounce her name.

"Mione is fine," she told him.

"Miss Mimi, do you have a baby?" he asked.

For a moment, she stared at him incredulously. Surely he wasn't able to tell she was pregnant, and she hadn't shared the news with anyone yet. Regaining her wits, she shook her head. "No, not yet," she told him.

The little boy frowned. "I asked my daddy for one," he shared. "Hims says no."

"What do I say no to?" Draco inquired. Scorpius smiled brightly and dashed toward his father. He bent down to pick up his son as he repeated his previous statement. "Oh yeah, one of you is more than enough. Besides, there's no guarantee another baby would be a boy. And we men don't need any girls around."

"What bout Miss Mimi?" Scorpius asked, turning to face her with a scowl on his small lips. "I yikes her."

A thoughtful expression crossed Draco's face as he considered his son's question and the witch in front of him. The past week had somehow been a turning point in their relationship. They had gone from childhood enemies to boss and employee to something close to friends. She no longer reminded him of the swotty, know-it-all witch from their Hogwarts days. "Yeah, she's not bad," he agreed. "Come on, lunch time."

They left her office, but Hermione remained behind. Scorpius kicked his father's side and whispered, "Mimi."

Turning back, he smiled at the brunette so deeply entrenched in her work. "Granger, let's go," he called to her. It was the addition of Scorpius's pout that forced her from her seat.

An hour later they returned to Draco's office. He laid a sleeping Scorpius on the sofa and covered him with his robes. Hermione stormed in with fists clenched and her mouth set in a tight, straight line. He held a finger to his lips to keep her quiet before pulling her into the hall.

"What do you know?" she demanded.

"I don't know anything you don't want me to know," Draco replied.

If it were possible, her eyes narrowed further. "That's bull and you know it. The entire time you kept making comments - we'll skip the wine, shouldn't get the fish because it makes you ill. What do you know?"

Sighing, Draco leaned against the wall opposite his office. "I wasn't sure, but I thought you might be pregnant," he told her. The quiver in her bottom lip confirmed his suspicions. He reached for her, and Hermione willingly stepped into his embrace. "Does Weasley know?"

"No, I don't know if I can tell him," she admitted. "I have to though, don't I?"

Draco sighed when she looked up at him. He wondered how he would have felt had Astoria never told him about Scorpius. They both knew the correct answer. "I think it's only right that he knows," he answered.