I don't own Harry Potter at all or make any money off this fic. All rights to J.K. Rowling and co.

Hermione and her parents were just leaving the hospital wing when Draco and his mother approached them. Hermione's mother gave her a small shove forward.

"Why don't you tell your…friend…our idea, dear?"

Hermione could've sunk into the floor then and there- she supposed that actually disappearing on the four of them now would be rude, however; so she gave Draco and his mother a small smile instead and cleared her throat.

"My parents are taking me to Hogsmeade for the rest of the afternoon and wanted to know if you'd like to join us there for a meal."

Draco gave her a smirk and would have responded, but his mother put a stilling hand on his shoulder.

"That would be lovely, thank you. We were just coming to suggest the very thing ourselves. If we're going to be family, we should get to know one another," Narcissa said graciously.

"Who said anything about family?" grumbled Mr. Granger under his breath. Hermione flushed and caught a quick glance at Draco, who had raised an eyebrow and looked like he wanted to laugh aloud. She supposed he would be more inclined to amusement- what did it matter to him if her father approved of him or not? It wasn't like they were getting married, or it was a permanent arrangement. Mrs. Granger patted her husband's shoulder and smiled warmly at Narcissa.

"Would you prefer to meet us there later, or-"

"We could…" Narcissa paused and attempted to look thoughtful. "I know just the thing! Why don't you and I and your daughter look around in some of the shops for a bit? My son could spend some time showing your husband around, if that's okay. Won't it be fun to pair off like that? Girls together and boys…well," she finished after a wary glance at Mr. Granger.

Hermione watched Draco's face carefully, which seemed to be turning an interesting shade of red. She looked up at her father and saw the same shade.

What fun.

Her mother echoed her thoughts.

"What fun! That sounds perfect. Shall we, Hermione? Will you be okay with that, darling?" she asked in an aside to her husband.

Mr. Granger managed a short nod and rearranged the grimace on his face into a smile…sort of. Hermione glanced at Draco again, who smirked this time, to her horror. Oh, he would never let her live this down. And she was certain he was going to butter up her father. Pregnancy or not, he possessed a sick charm and- the one thing she had discovered about him- a passion for cricket. Her father would be putty, soon enough. He may not think much of Draco and he might be upset about the pregnancy, but he loved cricket. Bugger. She hoped he wouldn't tell too many embarrassing stories.

Then she remembered that she would be with his mother, who, she was sure, had embarrassing stories of her own about her precious, ickle son. With that thought she flounced forward and smiled at Narcissa timidly.

"Thank you so much for spending some time with us, Mrs. Malfoy. I feel awkward enough about coming from a muggle family without having this ordeal ostracize me further. It's very generous of you to spare us some time."

Draco stared at Hermione strangely. What was she doing? He'd never heard her put down her muggle status before…what was she playing at?

Narcissa looked a little puzzled at first, but grew thoughtful. She smiled slightly. "Of course, my dear. It's my pleasure. You know, I'd never stopped to think what it must be like for you at a time like this. You must feel even more out of place than usual. How dreadful for you. I hope Draco has been making sure you're not too uncomfortable. You know, when I was pregnant, it was sometimes hard to make people see one as anything more than a stomach, eh?" Hermione responded with some more steaming lies and his mother continued to chatter while Mrs. Granger listened to the two with an interested expression.

With a sinking feeling, Draco watched his mother walk ahead with his make believe girlfriend and her mother. So that's what she was doing. Gaining his mother's sympathy. But what for? And was his mother really empathizing with her? Hadn't she just been complaining that Hermione was a muggleborn? And why was it suddenly important to him what his mother thought of Hermione when the baby wasn't even his? Frowning, he continued to watch them until he heard a cough to his side. With a slight start, he glanced over at Hermione's father.

"Er," said Draco.

"I'd like to kill you," said Mr. Granger in a conversational tone of voice.

Draco blinked. "I- what?"

"If you ever hurt her anymore than you already have, I will. My wife is pretending she doesn't know what I'm talking about, but I remember Hermione talking about you. You're a little shit and if you hurt her, I'll kill you."

Draco stared straight ahead of himself, the red tinge returning to his cheeks. Well. Tonight was going to be interesting. So much for charming the pants of Hermione's father, although he wasn't sure why it should matter to him, anyway. It wasn't like he was making all the changes in his life because he wanted to stay with her, was it? No, he was after the safety of his family. So then why did he feel so upset that her father seemed to hate him?

Well, a lot of things hadn't been making since lately. And it was true, he had treated her like crap in the past. You still are, just a bit, aren't you? the voice in his head pointed out. He growled at it and shoved his hands in his pockets, then looked up to Mr. Granger again. Might as well try to make the most of the evening, eh?

"I'll admit that I don't have the best reputation, Mr. Granger, but perhaps for Hermione's sake we can tolerate one another?"

Mr. Granger looked as though he'd like to puke and he didn't say anything. Draco forged ahead.

"We might talk about the weather. I could ask you about your dental practice."

More silence. Draco tried one more time.

"How do you like cricket?"

The evening went as terribly as Draco imagined it would. For his part, at least. Although the weather was nice and not too chilly and the stars twinkled down at them pleasantly from a dusky sky, he did not have a good time walking about the village. Hermione's father didn't even want to inspect the place, let alone speak to Draco; and they spent most of their alone time seated on a bench in the small square, staring before themselves stonily. Mr. Granger spoke no more than two kind words to him the entire time they were together; and at the dinner table, he managed to ignore Draco just as easily, choosing to pay more attention to his food than the young wizard. Their conversation centered entirely on cricket, as Mr. Granger clearly had no desire to know anything about Draco; and the sympathetic, yet smug, glances Hermione kept sending him only made him want to rough her up a bit once they were alone.

No, not in that way, he had to keep reminding himself, although the image of her up against a bookshelf had implanted itself firmly in his mind.

Instead, he had to listen in on his mother's pregnancy stories, red-faced, and pretend to be interested when Hermione's mum showed him the onesies they'd bought. They all had unicorns or brooms on them. When he pointed out that neither of those were gender neutral, Hermione almost burst into tears.

It was a very tedious meal.

"So, Draco," Mrs. Granger had asked, attempting to pull him into the conversation, "how do you like school? Any idea what you want to do once you get out? I understand that the wizarding world doesn't have university the same way we do."

Draco had smothered a grimace and quirked an eyebrow at Hermione as if to say, is she for real? How should we tell her I'm bent on the destruction of her world? You want to tackle this one?

Hermione had grown pale, but luckily for them both Narcissa had stepped in with some casual answer about taking over the family business. Unfortunately, Mr. Granger had asked what the family business was. That's when the real hemming and hawing had begun, until- miraculously- Hermione had cleverly described the Malfoys as landed gentry, in the old English tradition.

Mr. Granger had audibly snorted at the answer and in turn wanted to know if Draco sat around eating bonbons all day- not quite in those terms, of course.

To Draco's eyes, it had gone downhill from there, though Hermione and her mother were clearly enjoying themselves with Narcissa's company. His mother did know how to charm, didn't she? He felt a little jealous of their uneasy camaraderie, in fact; and had to remind himself several times during the meal that he didn't care how well Hermione got along with his mother. The whole thing was a temporary business arrangement…except that it wasn't, anymore, was it? Or at least, it was no longer the same arrangement. Instead, he was turning coat, switching sides, becoming a double agent. He wondered briefly if that would garner some respect from Mr. Granger and decided not. The man was out for blood, alright. He'd probably only be more upset at the extra danger he was putting his daughter in. He'd glanced over at the man, then, and been rewarded with a glare for even looking.

Needless to say, Draco was thrilled when dinner was over.

For Hermione's part, she thought the evening was tolerable. The weather was relatively balmy that evening and it was pleasant to walk about the village and inspect shops with her mum. Narcissa and her mum had even insisted they buy her a few things for the baby, though it wouldn't be due until the end of school. She felt confident that she'd convinced Narcissa of her harmlessness in terms of Draco's future and won her sympathy. She thought maybe she hurt her mother's feelings once or twice with some of the things she'd said about muggle life, but she explained as best she could to her afterwards. Her mother seemed to understand…as much as either of them understood any of it. Her parents tried to make the entire night as comfortable as possible for her, even talking about magic as much as they could- well, her mother did. But it wasn't the same and it never would be, as having parents who were witches and wizards.

It was not the first time that Hermione truly felt what she was- the first time she yearned for what her half and pure-blood friends had. Family that knew what you were without asking. It must be nice, she mused as she walked back up to the castle with her parents on either side. They had split from Narcissa and Draco after dinner was over; Mrs. Malfoy had said she wanted to speak to Draco alone for a little while.

Softly, Mrs. Granger took her daughter's hand and looked over at her, smiling.

"I'm sorry I can't be there for you the way you need me right now, darling."

Hermione was startled and glanced over. "What do you mean, Mum?"

"I saw the way you kept looking at Draco and his mother during dinner. Wistfully. I wish I could be there for you that way. I can only help you as a mother- as your mother, but she can help you as a witch."

From her other side, her father spoke as well. His voice was gruff.

"We were stricken when we first knew what you were. Didn't know how to react. Then we second guessed ourselves and our marriage…was it one of us? Whose genes did this to you, thrust you into a strange world without the benefit of your family?"

"We realized it didn't matter, of course, and we loved you and were happy for you just the same," continued Mrs. Granger. "But sometimes, especially with something like this happening…well, we feel it too, darling. We just want you to know that. It's hard not to think that this is somehow our fault for not being there-"

Hermione felt herself growing angry, then sad. It wasn't their fault- it wasn't anyone's fault. Shit happened. She said as much and heard her mother gasp and her father begin howling with laughter.

"Well it's true!" she exclaimed. "It's nobody's fault. I was stupid and tired and scared- stressed out- and he was right there. I made a mistake. Girls make these sorts of mistakes all the time, even girls who have never left their homes- I won't let you two blame yourselves."

The air felt considerably clearer after that and her parents saw her to her room, inspected it thoroughly; dropped off her purchases from that afternoon; and finally, after much hugging and many promises of love and well-being, they left.

Hermione was just brushing her teeth and getting ready for bed when she heard her buzzer going off. Puzzled, she rinsed quickly, reached for a towel and made for the door, tying her dressing gown more closely about her person. She wondered if perhaps her parents had forgotten something- it wasn't so late, after all. Or maybe Ginny wanted to visit, or Professor McGonagall was checking in. So, she was rather surprised when she pressed the button to ask for a name and Draco's voice filtered through to her. She debated a few seconds before allowing him through. What if he just wanted to cause more trouble this evening? But, she supposed she should let him explain his behavior from last night. Besides, she wanted to know how his visit with her dad had gone…though from the looks they were giving one another at dinner, the answer was not good.

Draco was almost surprised that she let him in. Almost. She met him at the door, opening it wide enough to let him in before she closed it after him. She was wearing a dressing gown in a becoming blue that set off her brown hair and eyes. Its voluminous folds fell against her creamy skin, giving it a pearly cast in the lamplight; and she had cinched it in tightly at her waist in an effort to cover herself up properly. He was captivated.

Until she cleared her throat and he looked down, abashed, only to see her pink bunny slippers and the edges of hideously plaid pajama pants. He couldn't help it; he laughed.

She glared at him and made to open the door again. "If you 're going to be that way, you can leave."

"No, no," he said hurriedly, waving a hand. "I'm sorry. It's just…you have interesting taste in sleep wear."

Hermione looked down and flushed. He was making fun of her pajamas, after the way he'd behaved yesterday? What was with him? She looked back up at him quickly and then turned away, taking a seat on the edge of her bed. "Why are you here?"

He started to sit down as well, seemed to think better of it, and instead took a stance near the window. "I want to apologize for last night. It was an accident. I didn't mean to invade your privacy that way."

Hermione chewed on her bottom lip a little and shrugged. "I guess it's alright. Ginny reminded me that I'm not at my most mentally stable. I should expect accidents like that to happen every now and then. Being pregnant messes with my hormones, which will probably mess with my magic usage." She eyed him, but glanced away when he looked up at her. Relief was evident on his face.

"You're not upset with me?"

"I didn't say that," she snapped. "Now how much longer are you planning on staying here? Or did you have something more to discuss?"

He looked at her speculatively. She had caved to his apology much sooner than he'd expected. In fact, she seemed almost shy around him now, aside from the bit that was grouchy. Should he tell her? Now would be the perfect time…admit that he was switching sides, that he was frightened of the future…he shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. No, now was not the time for that. They were barely learning how to be civil to one another.

Hermione caught a quick glance at him and could tell he was thinking. About what, she had no idea. Probably how best to torture me, she thought. But there was a softer air to him, as though he was suddenly unsure of himself. Even…conflicted about something. But what? He looked up and caught her staring at him and felt himself glare out of habit.

She was taken aback and found herself glaring in return. "So you don't even feel like gloating now?"

It was Draco's turn to be taken aback. "Gloating? What do you-"

"Yes, gloating- of course! Because you had front row seats to the 'Hermione's muggle parents explore the strange wizarding village' show! If you didn't come to try and embarrass me and threaten to humiliate me tomorrow by regaling your friends with the hilarious story, then why are you here? And don't expect me to believe you simply came to apologize," she growled, pointing a severe finger at him.

He stared down the length of her arm and frowned. "Will you please point that thing somewhere else? There may not be a wand attached to that hand, but you are a dangerous and wily witch."

Hermione flushed again and lowered her arm, realizing how ridiculous she sounded.

"I did not come here to embarrass you. For the record, your father hates me and I spent most of the evening trying not to say anything that would induce him to kill me. All I saw was a girl enjoying an evening out with her mother and future mother-in-law."

Hermione opened her mouth to respond, shut it, and stared at him, eyes wide. Draco frowned again.

"What?"

"You- you just said…"

Draco quickly reviewed what he'd just said to her and brought a hand to his mouth. "Er," he mumbled. "I should go."

He turned, opened her door, and was ready to step outside when she called after him.

"Wait- Draco, you didn't come here just to apologize, did you? There's something bothering you."

He looked over her and felt his cheeks turning a pink to rival Hermione's flushed face. "I don't know what you're talking about," he muttered.

"I'm sorry," she responded, taking a dew steps toward him. He backed up some.

"What on earth are you apologizing for?"

"For overreacting. For jumping to conclusions. I'm not usually like this," she smiled ruefully. "I just can't seem to think straight anymore. I'm not used to…this," she finished, gesturing uselessly to herself.

Draco began to feel uncomfortable. He hadn't meant to start anything with her; he'd simply wanted to apologize and…what? Make sure she didn't mind that her father hated him? Make sure she liked his mother? Find out how she felt about him?

Ridiculous. He cleared his throat. "For the record, neither am I. Why don't we leave it at that tonight and get some rest. We can have breakfast together tomorrow and talk then, if it'd make you feel better."

Hermione thought about this for a moment and finally shrugged. "If you're sure you don't want to talk anymore tonight…"

"I am," he affirmed quickly. He spontaneously moved forward a few steps and caught her in a light hug before releasing her and rushing from the room. Hermione watched him go with a dazed expression on her face before she walked over to the door and stared down the stairwell after his retreating shadow. She closed the door for the third time that evening and dead bolted it.

She really didn't think she wanted any more visitors. She'd had quite enough for one night; and now she had a lot to think about, too.

Draco paused at the foot of the stairs and looked back up. He couldn't see any light spilling from above any longer, so he assumed she had closed the door again. Good. Perhaps that would keep him from dashing back up there and revealing all his secrets to her. He hadn't expected these sorts of feelings to creep upon him the way they had. It was unsettling, to say the least. Not to mention that humiliating slip of the tongue he'd had- future mother-in-law? Where had he gotten that? He knew that's what two people who were having a baby together usually did, but he had no intentions of marrying her- the child wasn't even his! What the hell had happened to the business part of the arrangement? He supposed it had changed the minute he'd noticed how pretty she was, how softly her hair curled about her face…it had changed the minute he'd decided to switch sides. Fuck all.

It looked as though turning coat was going to be more complicated than he expected. He wasn't just worried about his family anymore and he'd have to come to terms with that, somehow.

The question was, would she ever come to terms with it? He laughed at himself morosely and raked his hand through his hair again. What an oaf. Whether or not Hermione liked him was the least of his worries at the moment.

Straightening his tie, he stalked off down the hall. Time to get as far away from her as possible so he could think straight for the first time that evening.

The fact that he hadn't even asked what sorts of secrets she'd wormed from his mother didn't cross his mind for the rest of the night.

This, of course, also meant that he was too distracted to see the figure that stepped from behind a pillar, newly uncloaked; and stared after him with a fierce glare upon its face before it started up the stairs to Hermione's suite.