Happy Thanksgiving! I had to break up Hermione's birthday/hen party into two parts because a) I'm not finished with the second part and b) it didn't feel like it all went together in one big chapter like Draco's party. I also apologize for any glaring errors - I'm posting it late because it's been a few days since I posted. I'll re-proof it later today after the family chaos ends.

Anyway - I hope you like it - I'm looking forward to your reviews as always :D

Harry reclined in the plush reclining rocking chair in his living room, holding an exhausted Albus with a bit of dried chocolate cake still smeared on his face from his birthday celebration. Draco sat in the identical chair next to him, a table separating them; with two half drank bottles of beer resting on coasters. Never had Draco seen a little boy so excited to turn one before. Of course, now that Albus was walking all over the house, Ginny said his energy level had kicked up a notch, and he was slowly becoming less of a watcher and more of a doer, just like his older brother. He still was a bit more reserved, still a bit more cautious with new things, like his little birthday cake Grandma Molly put in front of him. He stared at it, somewhat confused if he could in fact touch it or not. But the moment he saw James sitting on a chair next to him motioning to dig in with his hands, Albus mimicked the movements and never looked back. Never had anyone ever been more excited to dig their hands into chocolate cake, or to smear it on his face before 'sharing' with his brother, and next his parents. Draco couldn't help but watch as Hermione grinned from ear to ear while snapping pictures, and how he couldn't wait for it to be their turn to have chubby hands smearing cake in their faces.

Albus snored lightly as he shifted, snuggling closer to his daddy's chest. Harry kept a slow, steady, rhythm to his rocking, his hand lightly patting the baby's bottom with each downward rock. "Who knew it was so hard turning one?" Harry asked with a soft chuckle.

"Right?" Draco chimed in, reaching for his beer. He took a swig from his bottle before balancing the bottom of the bottle on his leg while his fingers held onto the neck. "How many stories do you think James roped Ginny and Hermione into before bed?"

"They've been up there at least four stories worth," Harry mused. "He did pretty well today, James I mean. Ginny was worried about him having a meltdown. Something about older children not adapting well with birthdays of other siblings or something."

"Well, she'd know - being the only one of us with siblings," Draco replied. "I'm sure it's a lot different being in a house competing for attention when there's a whole lot of 'em, you know?"

Harry nodded, his free hand brushing the top of Albus' hair. "It's why Ron is the way he is most of the time. Ginny thinks he does stupid or ridiculous things because he doesn't have a lick of sense. I'm convinced he does it because to him, attention is attention, regardless of the sort."

Draco shrugged. "I'd prefer to agree with your wife in the fact that he doesn't have a lick of sense."

"You would," Harry replied with a laugh. "You have anything special planned for Hermione's birthday dinner this weekend?"

"She said to not make a big production," Draco replied. "She insisted it just be us having a good time, because she and the girls are going to go 'buck wild' that evening, or so she claims. I predict they'll all be home by eleven." He looked over at Harry, who had quite the amused face as he shook his head. "What? You don't think they'll turn in early?"

"My wife - unbeknownst to most - has a hollow leg. She could drink a seven-foot Irish man under the table if given the opportunity. I don't expect her to come through the door until two in the morning at the earliest."

Draco drank the rest of his beer before depositing the empty bottle back to its coaster. "You don't think they'll do anything…wild, do you?"

"Nah," Harry replied. "Probably just bar hopping. I'm sure they'll all get completely pissed though. Have you ever seen Hermione drunk?"

"No - have you?"

"Once," Harry replied. "It's rather amusing, I promise."

Upstairs, Hermione and Ginny sat on either side of James' bed, Ginny finishing up the last story of the evening - a charming little book titled Donny the Dragon, which judging by the worn cover and tattered pages, had been a beloved book over the past few years. James let out a huge yawn as Hermione kissed his forehead, brushing her lip stain away with her thumb.

"Aunt Hermione?" James asked, playing with his mom's fingers. "Are you going to have a baby?"

Ginny snorted as Hermione's eyes went wide. "Like, right now?"

"No…just…ever," James replied. "I think Uncle Draco really wants a baby."

"Oh do you?" Ginny replied, ruffling his shaggy mop top. "What makes you think Uncle Draco wants a baby?"

James shrugged. "I don't know. He likes playing with me and Albus lots, and I think he'd be a super good dad. Just like Daddy is."

Hermione smiled, pulling his covers up a bit as she playfully plucked a finger against his nose. "Well, I'm sure that once we're married we'll have a baby or two."

He pondered this thought for a moment. "But…do you have to be married first?"

"Yes!" both Ginny and Hermione exclaimed quickly.

James looked at his mum, then his aunt, and shook her head. "You two are so weird sometimes."

Ginny gave him a big kiss on the cheek as he settled into his bed, his head resting on his dragon printed pillowcase. "Weird or not - Mummy loves you. Thank you for being such a good big brother today."

Beaming, James gave his mum a kiss on her cheek. "You think Albus liked the picture I made him?"

Nodding, Ginny kissed him back on his cheek and stood up from his bed, leaning over him as she tucked her long red strands of hair back behind her ears. "I think he loved his picture. I'm going to hang it up over his crib so he can see it every day." She kissed his forehead and Hermione got up from his bed, walking over to the doorway to watch as Ginny nuzzled noses with James in the dim light of his nightstand lamp. "Mummy and Daddy love you so much."

"I love you too, Mummy."

"Sweet dreams, James," she said, shutting out the light.

Hermione drifted out into the hallway as Ginny soon followed, closing the door to behind her. "I cannot believe my baby is almost five, and my other baby just turned one," Ginny said somewhat sadly. "This must be why my mother kept procreating - she wanted to keep having little ones in the house."

"Oh Ginny," Hermione replied, giving her a reassuring pat on the arm. "They're still little."

She gave her friend a sad smile. "Yes…but they won't be little forever."

Later that night, Draco and Hermione went through the motions of their nightly routine. Hermione threw a headband in her hair to scrub her face while Draco brushed his teeth. He nudged her playfully with his hip as he spit spearmint foam into the sink. "I'm not sure your party this weekend will top the cake smashing time we witnessed this evening."

Hermione splashed water on the face, rinsing the suds away as she reached for a towel on the rack. "Yes, well, you only turn one once. Besides - the real party will be happening once all you schmucks vacate the premises"

Draco stared at her through the mirror as he rinsed his toothbrush. "Did you just call me a schmuck?"

"I did," she said, loading up her toothbrush with toothpaste. "But if it makes you feel better, you're my schmuck."

"Funny - it doesn't really," he replied mockingly. He watched through the mirror as she vigorously brushed her teeth. Draco wasn't sure if he'd ever witnessed someone brushing his or her teeth properly until he met Hermione. It was like watching a live demonstration, the way she brushed up and down against every tooth, even reaching the ones in the far back. It was as if she was mentally keeping track of what she'd brushed and what she still needed to do. The first time he saw her brush her tongue, he remembered how he nearly gagged at the thought.

"Who in the bloody hell brushes their tongue?" he asked, slightly horrified.

She spit a mouthful of toothpaste into the sink. "Why wouldn't you brush your tongue? It collects germs too."

"You're so…odd," Draco replied.

"No," Hermione replied before tossing back a cup of water to swish around her mouth, spitting it out promptly after a few good swishes. "I just know how to properly care for my teeth. That's what happens when your parents are dentists."

Draco made a face. "I take it this is a trait you'll be passing onto our children then - as I clearly don't have the 'proper' means to do so like you."

That was the second time either of them mentioned the prospect of children, the first time being at the Burrow a year ago come Friday. Draco turned around and hopped up on the counter in between the sinks, watching as Hermione finished up her brushing up her teeth. "What?" she asked, catching him as he stared.

Draco smiled, shaking his head. "Nothing. Just watching you."

"Ok…" Hermione said, removing her headband and placing in one of the drawers on her side of the vanity. "Any particular reason as to why you're watching me?"

"Do I need a reason to watch my incredibly sexy fiancée?"

"Um, while brushing my teeth - yes. It's not exactly an act one would classify as sexy." She moved so that she was standing in between his legs, her hands patting his bare chest.

He fingered the thin lace strap of her paisley print nightdress that fell just to the middle of her thighs. "You know what I was thinking tonight?"

Laughing, Hermione smoothed her hands up over Draco's shoulders, resting on the nape of his neck as she looked into his eyes. "With you, it could be any number of things."

"I was just thinking about how someday it will be us with a family," he said quietly. "I can't wait to be the ones who fill the house with an obscene amount of balloons and fill our children with ridiculous amounts of sugar."

"Not too much sugar," Hermione warned with a warm smile.

He chuckled as his hands found a resting place on her hips. "I just want to make babies with you," he said, looking at her earnestly.

She felt herself tense up a bit. "Like, right this moment?"

"Obviously not right now," he replied, feeling her muscles relax a bit. "You do have a wedding dress to fit into, after all."

Hermione swatted his chest. "You scared the shit out of me just then. I thought I was going to have to shatter a delusion of sorts." She grabbed his hands and walked backwards, pulling him towards her. Following, he killed the lights on the way out, walking to the bed as he and Hermione turned the covers down. "How many do you want?" she asked, crawling into bed. She waited for Draco to get situated with his pillows before curling up around him, a head on his chest. "Kids that is."

Draco thought about it for a moment, rubbing a hand up and down Hermione's bare arm. "No more than four," he said after a moment. He looked down at Hermione, who was clearly shocked by his response. "What - too many?"

"You're serious," she said, rather than asking. "Four children."

He shrugged. "Or two or three." Hugging her close, he kissed the top of her head and sighed. "I hope they have your eyes, your laugh, and even that bushy mane you sported there for a bit."

She eyed him suspiciously. "You don't want a miniature version of yourself?"

"Nah - I remember me as a child. I told Potter the other weekend that I'd rather be bossed around by mini - Grangers for the rest of my life," he confessed, brushing his hand through her hair. "You know what my favorite thing is about being around the Potters?"

"What?" she asked.

"You always hear the kids," he replied. "Laughing, crying, talking, screaming - you always hear them. They aren't props standing in the background like Blaise and I were growing up…speaking only when spoken to. And even if you don't hear them, you see them - or their presence. James must have a gazillion pictures hanging up around the house, and Harry even has a handful hanging in his office. I want all of that."

Hermione looked up at him and caught his lips with hers, kissing him soundly as she held a hand on his face. "You'll have all of that," she promised. "We will have all of that."

"Can we practice?" he teased, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Practice?"

"You know - making a baby."

Hermione laughed, shaking her head as she looked up at him. "We 'practiced' this morning in the shower, remember?"

He shook his head. "I think we should probably practice."

As Draco rolled over so that he was on top of her, leaving a trail of kisses along her neck, Hermione sighed, laughing as the faint stubble on his chin tickled her skin. "Well…practice does make perfect."

"I knew you'd see things my way."

Friday, Hermione had her yearly checkup at her Healer's private practice office near St. Mungo's. She didn't mean for the checkup to fall on her birthday and now hen party later that evening, but her healer didn't have any other time open between now and the wedding. Wearing the thin paper gown, she waited for a few minutes before Healer Morgan appeared.

"Miss Granger," Healer Morgan said, her bright blond hair pinned back in a bun as she shut the door behind her. "I see you're here for your yearly exam, yes?"

Hermione nodded. "Happy Birthday to me, right?"

Healer Morgan laughed. "I noticed that on the way in. Twenty four today - anything exciting planned?"

"Actually, my hen night is tonight. I'm getting married in a month."

"Congratulations!" Healer Morgan exclaimed. "Draco Malfoy - yes? He's the lucky guy?"

She grinned. "He is."

"Well then, let's get the unpleasantries out of the way, and if you have any questions, you can ask," Healer Morgan said.

Hermione lay back on the table, holding the paper gown together as the opening was in the front with her hand as she put her feet in the stirrups. Her mother found her Healer Morgan when she was fifteen, and what Hermione enjoyed the most was that she was her doctor for everything - including 'female maintenance' as her mother always called it - so she didn't feel uncomfortable. She would, however, cringe when her mother would use the words 'female' and 'maintenance' in the same sentence. She thought it likened her to a piece of machinery, or an automobile.

What Hermione liked most about Healer Morgan that was while her female exam was done much in the way of muggle exams, she didn't talk to her while doing it. Ginny would tell her all the time how her healer would have a regular conversation with her during her exams and she saw nothing odd about it. Hermione, on the other hand, didn't want to talk to anyone who was inspecting her a pristine room while she donned a paper garment. Short and sweet, Healer Morgan announced she was done and removed her gloves so she could wash her hands. Hermione took her wand and muttered 'scourgify' under her breath to make her feel clean enough until she could get home and properly shower.

"So do you have any questions?" Healer Morgan asked, her back to Hermione to give her some privacy while she redressed.

"Actually, I do have a question," Hermione said, zipping up her jeans and fastening the button. "Draco and I - we've been talking a lot about babies lately."

Healer Morgan turned around as Hermione slid her arms into her light jumper and pulled it down over her torso. "How wonderful!" she exclaimed. "Do you know when you want to start?"

Hermione blushed a bit. "Well, I kind of wanted to wait - though I don't think Draco does - and the more I think about it, the more I want a little one."

Nodding, Healer Morgan flipped through Hermione's chart with her wand, stopping midway through the paperwork to scan through her notes. "We put you on that potion at what, fifteen?"

Hermione nodded. "My mother was convinced with as much time as I spent around boys that I was eventually going to succumb to peer pressure. Little did she know that we were a little busy - you know, trying to defeat a dark lord and all."

Her sarcasm didn't go unnoticed by Healer Morgan as she chuckled. "I remember the letter from your mother well when she requested the appointment." She flipped through her chart again and frowned slightly before closing the chart all together. "Well, Miss Granger, -"

She felt her heart quicken in her chest just a bit. "If you're going to tell me bad news, you can at least call me Hermione."

Healer Morgan smiled. "It's not bad news, Hermione. It's just with your history - getting pregnant might be a little bit more complicated." Hermione nodded, urging her with a look to continue. "You've been on a potion for nearly a decade. A lot of women, the longer they are on a method of medicated contraception, the longer it takes for their bodies to adjust to not having it in their system, and the longer it takes for you to conceive."

"So if I wanted to get pregnant within the next couple of months…"

"You could probably stop taking your potion at the end of this cycle," Healer Morgan replied.

Hermione nodded, making a mental note cancel her potion renewal. She looked at her healer, and by the look on her face, felt like there was something else. "Anything else?"

"Yes," Healer Morgan replied. "Not that I need to remind you, but you were under the cruciatus curse for quite a significant amount of time as far as unforgivable curses go. While there isn't a lot of significant evidence yet, there have been an increase in women in our world who had unforgivable curses used on them during the war and have also had issues conceiving."

Hermione's eyes went wide. "Issues?"

"Infertility, miscarriages," Healer Morgan mentioned gently. "Now - I'm not saying this will be the case for you - because every woman's body is different. But I know you, Hermione, and I know that you like having all the information possible up front, which is why I'm telling you now. Again, I'm not saying that you won't be able to get pregnant, but I also don't want you to be discouraged if you and Draco do not get pregnant immediately - once of course you decide that you want to get pregnant."

"Oh," was all Hermione could muster.

She felt Healer Morgan reach out and grab one of her hands, giving it a squeeze. "I don't want this to scare you, or to make you change your mind. You are a perfectly healthy young woman, and I'm sure you and Draco will have as many children as you want. We also work with some squib physicians in the muggle world who help us with muggle technology if it comes to it, ok?"

Hermione shook her head quickly, plastering a smile on her face to mask her feelings. "Of course. But I'm sure we'll be fine. You said to stop the potion after this cycle, and if it's going to take us a while, then we'll have plenty of time to prepare ourselves."

"Exactly," Healer Morgan replied. "Now - if you don't have any more questions, I have one for you."

"What?" she asked.

Healer Morgan smirked. "Is that fiancé of yours as handsome in real life as he is in the magazines?"

She let out unexpected laugh, nodding her head as she grinned. "Even more handsome," she finally managed to get out. "Hopefully - once we're pregnant - you'll get to see for yourself."

"Well now I'm anxiously looking forward to the day," Healer Morgan replied with a grin. She walked Hermione out to the receptionist to pay the healer her fee. "Now - I know you, and I know you're going to sit and churn about what we just discussed, but I implore you to do the opposite. Trying to get pregnant is supposed to be fun. Thinking about things…makes it seem like work."

Hermione let out a small laugh as she closed her purse and hoisted the straps over her shoulder. "I doubt it would ever seem like 'work' to me. Draco already refers to it as 'practice.' He's pretty enthusiastic about the baby thing."

"Well - if I had a husband who looked like your soon to be husband, he could be as enthusiastic as he wanted, wherever he wanted," Healer Morgan teased.

She couldn't stop her cheeks from blushing if she tried. "Have a good day, Healer Morgan," she replied, shaking her hand.

"You have a happy birthday - and a happy hen night," Healer Morgan replied.

Hermione gave the healer a wave and said 'thanks' as she left the office. She decided to walk home, considering it was a nice day. Strolling along the sidewalks, it seemed that every woman she passed had a child or a stroller with her. Mothers and children were something she noticed a lot more lately, as she and Draco's discussions about children grew more frequent. It made her think of the time that her father came home with his brand new SUV the summer before fifth year. He was in love with that SUV, and hadn't even seen such a vehicle until he went to the dealer. Two days later, all he recognized on the street were how many people actually had the same car he had and all he did was lament about his obvious disillusion with being 'unique' while Hermione and her mother silently laughed out of his line of sight. Either way - the fact of the matter was simple. The more Hermione saw mothers and children together, or Ginny with James and Albus, the more she realized she wanted one of her own.

She wasn't sure how she found herself in the Ministry of Magic, or how she found herself in Draco's office, but she did. She thought about swinging by her own office, but knew it was pointless considering most of her work was at home. His secretary, LuAnn, smiled gave a nod to go ahead into his office, where she found him hunched over his desk, dipping his quill into ink as he continued to write notes on his parchment. Somewhere between the conversation with the healer and her arrival in the doorway of his office, her gut decided to not share the majority of information she gathered today. Hermione couldn't have him stressing about all the 'what if' scenarios. She could do that enough for the both of them. Besides - she figured the one piece of news she planned on sharing with him would allow her to feed off of his energy and excitement.

Draco looked up from his parchment at the sound of the door shutting. "Hey birthday girl," he said with a smile. "What brings you here?"

"Nothing…just walking home after my doctor's appointment, and somehow found myself here," she replied.

"Right," Draco replied. "How did it go?"

"Interesting," she said, hiding her intentional vagueness with a smile. "I mentioned to her that we were…you know - "

"Practicing?" he interjected, a twinkle in his eye.

"Practicing," she repeated, taking a seat on the sofa in his office. "And she mentioned that because I've been on a potion since I was fifteen, that it will probably take my body a bit to readjust once we do try to get pregnant."

Draco furrowed his brow, putting his quill down on his desk. "Readjust?"

Hermione laughed. "Healer Morgan says that if I want to get pregnant let's say like - in the next few months - I should stop taking my potion now, so that my body gets used to the idea that I want your little swimmers to be, productive."

"Gross, Hermione," Draco said, scrunching his face. "Don't refer to them as 'little swimmers.' It sounds awkward."

"Not as awkward as saying semen."

"Touché."

"Anyway," Hermione said, clapping her hands on top of her knee as she crossed one leg over the other to get him back on track. "What I'm saying is that if you and I want to be pregnant in say, three or four months, then I should stop taking my potion."

His eyes went wide as he leaned back in his office chair. She let the information sink into his skull for a moment, before getting the reaction she was anticipating. Grinning like a fool, Draco stood up out of his chair and walked over to Hermione, standing in front of her. He reached for her hands and pulled her up to his feet. "So…what you're saying is that we wouldn't be practicing anymore."

"Right."

"It'd be for real."

"Yes," Hermione replied. "But I see that look - and I'm telling you right now - it won't be instantaneous. Women who are on contraceptive medicines take longer to get pregnant – once they stop taking them, obviously."

Draco smirked. "We'll just see about that. I might have super sperm, you know."

"If you ever refer to your sperm as 'super' again, we're going to be having an entirely different conversation," Hermione retorted.

He leaned in and gave her kiss, cupping both of her cheeks in his hand. Breaking away, he looked right at her, a hopeful look on his face. "When do you want to stop practicing?"

She bit her bottom lip, looking up and into his eyes. "We could stop practicing now."

"Really?"

Hermione nodded. "Do you want to stop practicing?"

"I do," Draco quietly replied. "But only if you're completely sure."

She gave him a shy smile. "I'm sure, sweetheart."

Draco pressed his forehead to hers, inhaling the vanilla scent that was Hermione. He grazed her nose with a kiss from his lips before enveloping her in a bone-crushing hug. Pressing his lips to her temple, he released her and saw her eyes beginning to water. "Wait - you're crying," he said. "Hermione we can wait - honestly - if you're not ready we can wait and -"

She silenced him by pressing her forefinger vertically against his lips. "They're happy tears," she said. "I promise you - they are happy tears."

"Swear?"

"They are happy tears," she repeated, avoiding making the promise. For the most part – her statement was true – as a tear escaped and trickled down her cheek. She was happy – incredibly enthusiastic about the idea of having his children. She was also just a little bit scared of the small possibility that it would be difficult, or worse case scenario – impossible.