Authors Note: Please refer to the prologue for the disclaimer.

Chapter One

The sound of the door opening pulled Hermione's attention from the sheath of parchment she had been reading. Glancing up, she saw her secretary, Jane Wilson, entering the room carrying what looked like the day's post. Plonking the letters down on Hermione's already cluttered desk, Jane smiled before saying, "You were in early this morning… an emergency?"

Hermione nodded before putting down the parchment. "A fractured spinal chord was brought in late last night. From what James Sanderson and his team can deduce, the patient's frontal lobes and of course his magical abilities've also been affected – there's pressure on them, so I have to operate on both the spinal chord and frontal part of the brain this afternoon to see what we can salvage."

"Sounds bad – when did they let you know?"

"In the early hours." Hermione stretched, and failing to stifle a yawn, got up and wandered over to the window. "I had to drop Aurora off at Mrs Weasley Weasley's – it was lucky she didn't kick up a fuss as she is apt to do some times."

"Oh come on, I think you're too hard on the child," Jane grinned. "I mean she's only four years old and kids that age don't know any better."

Rolling her eyes, Hermione shrugged. "Oh believe me, she knows exactly when to throw tantrums – I should know! Anyway, Mrs Weasley'll drop her off to nursery later on, so that's one thing less to worry about."

"You know, you're very lucky having so many people around to take care of her, and she's such a sweet little thing."

Hermione couldn't help smiling. "Yeah, I suppose she is. Is that post?"

"No, I've dealt with the post; these are letters for you to sign and oh, a memo from Harold Pinfold, asking you to attend a board meeting in which he wants to announce something or other. He didn't say what, but it must be important if he's brought the meeting forward two days." At Hermione's nonplussed look, the efficient secretary went on, "I accepted on your behalf as it sounded important. And Pinfold being the head of the hospital, it wouldn't be wise to annoy him."

"No, I suppose not, but honestly, why does he have to spring these meetings on us? I for one don't have the time to re-schedule appointments at a moment's notice - too much work. When is it?"

"This afternoon, at four."

"What? You're joking right?" At Jane's shake of the head, Hermione groaned and carried on, "I wish he'd give us more warning! How am I supposed to get there on time? Oh why could it not have been a little later? Well I don't know how long this operation'll take and I certainly don't intend to rush it so as to get to some boring board meeting chaired by Harold! And what's more, I'll tell him so!"

Before Jane could remonstrate, she strode determinedly over to the fireplace and grabbed up a pinch of glittering floo powder, throwing it into the fire. Kneeling down, she thrust her head into the emerald green flames and shouted "Harold Pinfold's office!" As her head flew through the intricate floo network, she fumed silently to herself. Then with a pop, her head appeared in its destination and she looked round.

At the pop, a man tall with thick sandy hair greying at the temples looked round. Seeing his visitor, he smiled and knelt down to talk to her.

"Ah Hermione, good morning, did you get my memo?"

"Yes thanks, Harold. Look, the reason I'm here is that I have an operation scheduled for 1 pm this afternoon and I don't know if I'll be free by four."

A slight frown appeared on the head of the hospital's brows and he asked, "An operation? But I got my secretary to check and according to your schedule you're free, aren't you?"

"No," Hermione shook her floating green-tinged head. "Emergency, James Sanderson's patient."

"What? The one who was brought in last night? But I was given to understand that James would use crystal magic to relieve the pressure on the brain and…"

"It didn't work. I'll have to operate if the man stands a chance of retaining both his life and magical abilities. He's been scheduled for this afternoon, so I can't attend the meeting."

There was a pause in which Harold frowned thoughtfully before coming to a decision. Then he said with a shrug, "Well, in that case, the meeting will have to be postponed until you've finished. I'll let the rest of the board know – no doubt they won't mind waiting for you! This meeting is very important as I have something to announce and it's imperative that this is sorted before next month's annual hospital conference."

"I suppose so, but surely…"

"Nonsense my dear, you have to be there." As though he had read her mind, and smiling at her bewildered look he went on, "Hermione, as Director of Magic and Muggle Integration, you have to be there. Don't worry; we'll wait for your op to be over. I am sure the others will understand when I explain why. Now calm down and good luck with the operation!"

Sensing the meeting was at an end, Hermione bad him farewell, and withdrew her head from the fire.

"No good, "she told Jane as she brushed soot off herself, "he won't let me off. Says they'll wait until I have finished the op, although how that'll go down with the other directors, I don't know."

"Oh I'm sure they won't mind," Jane handed the lint brush to Hermione, "After all, they were all in favour of your appointment two months' ago and it is a universal fact that as the youngest Healer to be appointed to the Board of Directors, you're well respected."

"Thanks for your faith in me," Hermione smiled, as she sat down at her desk once again. "I don't know how I would've managed without you this past year."

Jane returning her smile, also sat down, and eyed her thoughtfully. "Well, we make a good team – although I only knew you by reputation at Hogwarts, I'm glad I've had the chance to work with you."

Jane had been four years Hermione's junior at Hogwarts, and being in Hufflepuff, the two had not often met. They had now been working together for a year, after Hermione's last secretary had retired and Jane had applied for her job. As well as being an extremely efficient secretary, she and Hermione had become friends.

"Well, I'd better carry on if I want to be prepared in time for the operation. Could you send a copy of the points I need to bring up at the meeting to the board's secretary? Leave a copy of it on my desk."

XoXoXoXo

Hermione stood back from the operating table, as the Medi-witch behind her helped her take off her gown and mask. The man lying on the table was still unconscious, but she had managed to relieve the pressure on his brain, as well as mend the fracture in his spinal chord. She knew it had been a close call and wondered why people insisted on playing such dangerous sports as Quidditch. The man in front of her had fallen from his broomstick during a Quidditch match. Even as Hermione stood there, the theatre staff were returning the gleaming theatre to its pristine state, with deft waves of their wands. The trainee Healer and Medi-staff who had assisted all looked relieved, as they too, backed away from the table looking exhausted but triumphant.

Glancing at the clock on the wall, Hermione saw that it was just ten past four. Turning, she gave final instructions to the Medi-wizard standing by the patient and left the room. Standing in the shower, she attempted to wash off the tiredness threatening to overcome her, but interrupted sleep the night before and four hours of intense concentration in the operating theatre, were taking their toll on her. If only she didn't have the meeting with the Board of Directors, she could go straight home and spend some time with Aurora.

Sighing resignedly, she stepped out of the shower and dressed hastily in muggle clothes, since technically she was no longer on duty. Straightening her knee length black skirt and white blouse, she hurried from the changing room into her office. There, she collected her notes for the meeting, glanced in the mirror to ensure her tights had no ladders and grabbing up a pinch of floo powder, threw it into the still glowing fire. Stepping in, she called "Hanwell's Conference Room" and a moment later stepped out into the plush carpeted conference room, where she saw to her dismay, the rest of the Directors were already congregated.

"Ah Hermione, excellent! Operation go ok?" Harold Pinfold asked in greeting, from where he sat at the head of the oval conference table.

"Yes thank you, we managed to save him," Hermione replied, taking her seat. Looking up, she caught the eye of James Sanderson, who smiled at her from across the table.

The other Directors too, were smiling, and James said, "Well done – that was a close call. When the crystal spells didn't work, I thought he wouldn't survive. You were my last hope!"

"Well, Hanwell's is noted for its excellent staff," Harold nodded, beaming around at the assembled company, "Now, to get back to the meeting, I brought this meeting forward two days for a good reason." He smiled and went on, "As you all know, Edward," here he directed a glance at a stooped wizard sitting on his right, "has decided to retire at the end of next week. You will all be pleased to know that Edward and I have finally found a replacement for his position!" There was a pause as he gazed at the people sitting round the table, all wearing expressions of interest on their faces, some even leaning forward in their chairs, "I would like to announce that from the start of the week after next, the position of Director of Finance will be filled by Draco Malfoy, who has kindly agreed to join the hospital board!"

There was a collective gasp round the room as everyone stared at Harold and Edward.

Hermione, like the rest of the Directors was gaping at the chairman, speechless. Draco Malfoy? No, it couldn't be! Her brain reeled at the news as the memory of the last time they had met flashed vividly in her mind.

She remembered all too clearly the night they had last seen each other; the night that Malfoy had slipped a potion which would lower her defences into her drink and how he had taken advantage of that compliance, the result of which, nine months later, had been Aurora. Whilst Aurora had been an unexpected gift, one that she would never give up for the world, the circumstances around her conception still caused Hermione to burn with white-hot anger.

The sound of James' voice pulled her from her thoughts. "Draco Malfoy? Surely not the Malfoy heir who's been in America for the past few years?"

"Yes, the very one," Harold beamed back, "he's only just returned to Britain and has accepted this position. He is supposed to be a real whiz with numbers, so I think and Edward agrees, he will do admirably in this post."

"Oh yes," agreed the reedy voice of Edward, who was so old, his face was a mass of wrinkles, "the young man is very good with corporate finance – you just need to look at his business interests to see that. I will be able to retire peacefully, knowing the hospital's finances are in good hands!"

"But," Hermione objected, "He knows nothing of hospitals and how they work!"

"He'll learn. Besides, the important thing for his job scope is being good with numbers; I'm sure we aren't going to ask him to double up on Medi-wizardry, are we?" Harold joked, while the other Directors chuckled at the thought. "Anyway, Malfoy has a good head on his shoulders, and that's what matters," Harold smiled at Hermione, who remained solemn, not participating in the laughter. "I mean, that's why he was so long in America; his business interests took a massive plunge a few years back and he had to go out there personally to sort it all out."

"Well, I for one think he'll do a good job," piped up Isabel Winterton, a tall stately witch in her mid-fifties with dark piercing eyes. "Yes, I approve of your choice Harold, the hospital can always use a fresh infusion of new blood; and, if I recall correctly, he's roughly Hermione's age."

This last remarked was delivered with a cool smile in Hermione's direction. Hermione glared at Isabel from beneath her lashes. The two ladies, although tolerant of each other, had never got on well, and she tried to avoid the other woman as much as possible.

"That's right, we were in the same year at Hogwarts," she responded trying to keep the sneer out of her voice. "to cut a long story short, we didn't get on. He had some… shall we say, antiquated values, which I believe he still holds."

There was an uncomfortable silence following Hermione's revelation and then Harold, attempting to lighten the atmosphere commented, "Well, we all do odd things as teenagers. No doubt he's grown up in the last few years. Regardless of whatever his personal wishes and values, as long as he makes a good job of directing our finances, I think that's more important. Now to move on…"

The rest of the meeting got under way, and each Director gave a report of what had been happening in his or her field of responsibility over the last two months. Hermione sat, her hands clenched in her lap, worry flooding through her. She took a couple of deep breaths and tried to keep calm by reasoning with herself. It would be unlikely that Malfoy would want to be reminded of their last encounter, and she would see him eight times a year at most. It would not be difficult to avoid him in meetings, and as for Aurora, she shrugged, there was no need for him to ever know of her existence – for even if he did find out she had a child, Aurora could be anyone's for all he knew. She breathed more easily, having come to this logical conclusion and sat back focusing once more on the meeting.

Finally, Harold turned to her and smiled. "Well Hermione, your turn. Tell us, what's been happening in the integration of muggle and magical medicine? And oh, for the benefit of those who haven't read your last paper, explain a little of the research you have been doing."

"Well," Hermione began, "my role is to encourage, as well as oversee the successful integration of both magical and muggle medicine. As you probably know, we were the first hospital to introduce muggle medicine and in certain cases, it's much better than magic. However, there still needs to be a lot of research done to see exactly how both strains can be made to work together. Following my research on the effective use of antibiotics when treating dragon pox, St Mungo's have asked that we run a course to train some of their Healers in muggle sterilisation techniques. I need to, of course, clear it with the board before agreeing to their request."

"Hmmm, a fantastic discovery," mused one director scratching his bald head, "I read about it in the Journal of Healing and Medi-Wizardry last month. Just to get the basics clear, antibiotics and bathing in saline solution would be a better remedy for dragon pox than the Alcas potion, which leaves the drinker itching all over for three weeks. Is that right?"

"That's basically it," Hermione concurred. "All our tests have shown that the muggle remedy's much better in terms of time as well as cost. The Alcas potion takes six weeks to brew and requires ingredients, which are becoming harder to find. Antibiotics can be reproduced by breeding certain bacteria, which isn't difficult to do in our own research laboratories, plus we can produce a lot of it at any one time."

XoXoXoXo

Hermione stood on the edge of the grounds of Hanwell's. In the distance, she could see the solid mass of the hospital, lights twinkling at its many windows and scurrying figures coming and going. She sighed and smiled tiredly; she had now worked at the hospital for five years, which she had to admit had been some of the happiest times of her life. Hanwell's was a converted country mansion set in its own grounds. The mansion was taken over by the Ministry of Magic when the Crouche family died out during Hermione's fourth year at Hogwarts.

Resisting a trip down memory lane, she turned and with a small pop, Disapparated to appear a moment later in the cosy and bright kitchen of the Burrow. She blinked as she looked around, the light momentarily dazzling her. Then, before she had time to speak, a small figure had thrown itself at her, squealing with delight.

"Mummy, Mummy, I was wondewing when you'd come. Auntie Ginny said you'd come soon but you didn't and I thought you'd be there all night."

Hermione looked down at her small daughter trying to climb into her arms. Aurora's chestnut ringlets were lying dishevelled over her face – the ribbon tying them back having been discarded. Her faced, like Hermione's, was heart-shaped with a small straight nose and deep set grey eyes, fringed by long curling lashes tipped with gold. Her skin was pale and she possessed a small fragile-looking frame. Aurora was smiling up at her, although Hermione noticed with a slight pang, that her lower lip had been on the point of trembling – no doubt tears hadn't been far from the little girl's eyes.

Putting her bag down, she pulled out a kitchen chair, and sat down, drawing Aurora onto her lap and hugging her fiercely.

"Slow down," she said, smiling at the little girl's exuberance. Aurora, winding her arms around her mother's neck was now smiling up at her. "Now, what were you saying?"

The child sighed, before repeating slowly in a patient voice, "I was saying, that Auntie Ginny said you were going to come back and get me, but you're late, and I thought you wouldn't come and I didn't want to stay here—"

"And why wouldn't you want to stay here?" Ginny asked from where she stood, stirring a pot over the fire, "We don't bite, you know!" She grinned at Hermione as she spoke, her face shining from the heat of the fire.

"No, but Fweddie isn't here, and I don't like sleeping without him! And anyway, he'll cwy if I'm not there, 'cause he'll be all alone."

"Freddie?" Ginny asked with interest.

"Freddie," Hermione explained to Ginny, "is Aurora's latest toy; a brown and white teddy bear. Well," she now addressed Aurora, "Auntie Ginny doesn't know about Freddy, so she won't know that he'll miss you if you aren't there. "

But Aurora was clearly not satisfied. "Well she should know about him," she grumbled. "I told her about him when I came back from school, and she said it was nice. Mummy, she was being bad, she wasn't listening! Remember, you said that people had to listen to each other, or it wasn't nice – bad Auntie Ginny!" This last sentence was accompanied by a pout and a glare aimed at Ginny, whom Hermione noticed had resolutely turned her back on them so they couldn't see her face. "I think we should send her to Coventwy for not listening when I was talking to her. That'll teach her not to be bad again!"

"Coventry," spluttered the redhead, "Why would I want to go to Coventry? I'm perfectly happy here thanks!"

"No silly," explained an exasperated Aurora, "when you go to Coventwy, it means I'm not going to talk to you – everyone knows that!"

Trying hard to stifle her own laughter, Hermione dropped a kiss on the child's hair and excused, "Well, I'm sure Auntie Ginny didn't mean to not listen; she was probably doing something else! Anyway, how do you know she wasn't listening – maybe she forgot that you'd told her about Freddie?"

"Oh, I know she wasn't listening," the little girl informed them airily, "'cause she was smiling at Uncle Hawy. And Mummy, they were holding hands under the table, and I saw them! Only childwen hold hands, not gwoan ups!"

"Hmmm, that's true," Hermione nodded at her daughter, trying to stifle a grin as she glanced at her friend whose back still faced them. Was that a blush high on Ginny's cheeks? She then addressed Ginny, deciding for the time being anyway, not to tease her, "Where's your mother?"

"She's nipped into the village for something," Ginny replied finally, turning to face them, "How did the op go then?"

"Oh fine – he survived, although it was tense for a while."

"I thought it'd be serious when you dropped madam off here," Ginny indicated Aurora, "at four this morning—"she was cut off by the arrival of Mrs Weasley who Apparated into the small room clutching a shopping bag.

"Really, the queue in that village shop! Oh hello Hermione dear, you'll be hungry. Ginny, fill a plate of stew for Hermione, she looks as though she needs it," Mrs Weasley sighed, as she sat down heavily at the scrubbed kitchen table.

Ginny bustled around filling a plate with piping hot stew and placing it in front of Hermione.

"Come here young lady," the older woman told Aurora, "Mummy's hungry. Come on, give me a cuddle and I'll tell you a story."

Obligingly, Aurora slid off Hermione's lap and trotted over to Mrs Weasley, who picked her up, settled her comfortably on her own lap, before starting a tale about a princess who lived in a big castle. Hermione let Mrs Weasley's voice drift over her as she worked her way through the plate of stew. Ginny came over to sit down beside her. Smiling, Hermione asked in a low voice, "So Harry came to visit did he?"

"Little wretch, Merlin, I swear she has eyes in the back of her head," Ginny muttered as she shot a fond look at Aurora, now curled up on Mrs Weasley's lap.

"Well, you shouldn't've been holding hands then, should you?" Hermione teased. "Anyway, how's the redecorating going?"

"It's in full swing. The flat looks like a tip at the moment – stuff everywhere! I'm glad I opted to stay here for a while rather than at the Golden Snitch – you know, that small hotel opposite the Three Broomsticks – with Harry."

"Yeah, redecorating's a tiring business at the best of times. How come Harry managed to get some time off?"

"Oh, his assignment was delayed for some reason, so he thought he'd pay me a visit," Ginny smiled.

They fell silent, each immersed in their own thoughts. Ginny and Harry had now been married for eight months. The flat they had been living in was in bad repair, so they had finally decided to have it redecorated. Hermione smiled as she recalled the arguments they had had when choosing colour schemes and furnishings; Ginny's Weasley temper and pregnant state, coupled with Harry's stubbornness, did not make for a good combination. Glancing over at Mrs Weasley, Hermione saw that Aurora had fallen asleep, her head pillowed on the older woman's shoulder.

"Oh good," Mrs Weasley said quietly, "I'm glad she's asleep, I need to talk to you Hermione!"

"Oh, is something wrong?" Hermione asked, her thoughts still on Ginny and Harry's tempestuous relationship.

"Well, let's put it this way," Mrs Weasley told her gravely, "I went to pick Aurora up from Nursery as usual, and her teacher told me that she had somehow up ended the nursery bin on a small boy who accidentally pushed her. Considering the bin's one of those metal ones which is four times as wide as Aurora, I doubt she has enough physical force in her to even push it!"

Hermione felt her heart sink; Aurora's unintentional use of magic seemed to be getting more frequent as she grew older. Her formidable temper was easily roused and when in full swing, often resulted in bursts of accidental magic, which while easily controlled at home, were becoming more of a problem in public. Mrs Weasley's voice broke into her thoughts and she looked into her worried eyes.

"Hermione, you'll have to enrol her into a nursery for magical children. The muggles are already suspicious of her and her teacher's tolerance of her is waning. Look, I know of a nursery run by Andromeda Tonks for magical children. Andromeda can keep an eye on her. Also, Aurora will be with children like herself; she'll enjoy it more. Besides, this isn't even taking into account the accidental magic side of things."

"Hermione," Ginny layed a hand on her arm. "you can't hide her from the wizarding world forever. Aurora's a powerful witch, so there's bound to be some accidental magic let loose some times. Anyway, it isn't safe for her – the International Statue of Secrecy and all that. The Ministry have already had to modify that teacher's memory twice, and Aurora's only four," She shot the brunette a speaking glance and Hermione knew that Ginny understood her real reasons for enrolling Aurora at a muggle nursery.

"I know, but—"she began. How could she explain to Mrs Weasley, her reasons for not wanting Aurora to enter the magical world before she had to? About her constant fear that Draco Malfoy would discover her daughter's existence and try to hurt her? How could she explain the worry that always lay like a lead weight at the back of her mind? And now that he was back from America…

She gulped and looked at the older woman. "Well, I suppose we don't really have any option, then. I mean, if only she didn't have such a temper, but I can't seem to stop the tantrums however strict I am with her."

"Oh, poor little thing!" Mrs Weasley cooed smiling fondly at the little girl in her arms. Then taking her eyes from Aurora's sleeping face, she once again fixed her intent gaze on Hermione, who sat miserably looking into her teacup as though hoping it would provide her with the answer to her problem.

"Hermione dear," she began hesitantly, and obviously choosing her words. "I've never asked you this, but Aurora's father… is he the reason you don't want her involved in the magical world more than she has to be?"

"Yeah, something like that," Hermione mumbled, "It's a bit complicated, but suffice to say, I would rather her not attend a magical nursery unless there's no alternative, and right now," she sighed gloomily, "it looks as though there's no other option."

"Well," Mrs Weasley responded, clearly uncomfortable. "let's put it this way; say for a moment that Aurora carries on at the nursery she's at right now. She gets older and the bursts of accidental magic become more frequent. At some point the ministry's going to have to get involved. So far we've been lucky in that your friend Ernie McMillan's been able to modify memories when the need has arisen, but at some point, he won't be able to cover up for Aurora's magic and the whole ministry'll get dragged in. Believe me, dear, there'll be a lot of publicity about the fact that such a young child's so powerfully magical and well," she looked awkward, "Aurora's father's bound to hear about it and…" she trailed off, and all three women sat staring at the surface of the table, their brows furrowed in thought.

Hermione admitted to herself that she had never considered this possibility and bit her lip as she wondered what to do. Mrs Weasley did indeed have a point, and knowing Draco Malfoy as she did, she was well aware that he had close ties with most of those in power at the Ministry. Of course, he would be one of the first to hear about it if Aurora carried on accidentally using magic in public. She sighed and massaged her aching temples in frustration.

Mrs Weasley tried again as she shifted Aurora's weight onto her other shoulder. "I know it's none of my business, but I'm very fond of Aurora and like yourself, I want only the best for her. Please don't think I'm prying, but would it be such a bad thing if her father were to know about her?"

"Yes, Mrs Weasley it would," Hermione sighed grimly, straightening and staring at the older woman across the expanse of table between them. "Please trust me on this one. He can't know about her, he just can't! And that's why I chose a muggle nursery rather than a magical one. But if, as you said—"

"Well," the older woman interrupted, adopting a business-like tone, "I know Andromeda Tonks very well, and if you'd like, I can speak to her about enrolling Aurora into her nursery."

"Hermione," Ginny said gently, "there's no other viable way. Aurora'll be safe there, and if she does accidentally do magic, it'll go unremarked since most of the children there will probably do some sort of accidental magic at one time or another."

"You're both right," Hermione agreed wearily, "Yes, Mrs Weasley if you could have a word with Andromeda Tonks, I'd be grateful. Now we'd better be getting home, I'm dead tired!"

XoXoXoXo

Hermione straightened from tucking Aurora into bed. She was tired and wanted nothing more than to go to bed herself. Checking that nothing was amiss in the room, she crept out leaving the door ajar. She decided that she would have a bath before bed; it may soothe and relax her a little. As she waited for the bath to fill, she pondered the happenings of the day, trying not to let worry cloud her logic and practical common sense. Climbing gratefully into the steaming bath, she groaned, allowing the hot water to slide over her, relaxing tense muscles, which ached with tension and tiredness. She leaned back, letting the lavender scented water wash the aches and pains away.

As her parents had predicted, it had not been easy being a single parent. Aurora, although possessing a sunny nature, could be precocious when it suited her, and Hermione had hoped that she would grow out of her bad tempers when she had started school. If anything, her tantrums had increased, and more frequently were accompanied by bursts of unintentional magic. It had been easy to tell Aurora that she didn't have a daddy when she had asked a few weeks ago, and as children do, she had simply accepted this answer. No doubt when she grew older it would be a different matter altogether, but Hermione decided she would worry about that problem when it arose. Only five people apart from herself knew who Aurora's father was; Ginny, Harry, Ron, and her parents. All had been sworn to secrecy, and she knew that they would rather die than break their promise and divulge this information.

Strange, she mused, she had not thought about Draco Malfoy in years. Certainly, he had always been at the back of her mind; a nameless worry, but she had not really thought of him as a person since Aurora was very small. She smiled as she remembered the hours she had spent when Aurora was a baby, gazing at her tiny child, trying to decide whether she looked more like herself or her father. Apart from inheriting his grey eyes, there was no other feature which Hermione could directly attribute to Malfoy, reducing the chances of Aurora being recognised for her true parentage.

'But now that he was back in Britain—' she shivered with apprehension. No, she reasoned with herself, he may be married; he might even have other children; and even if he were still single, he would surely have better things to do than take an interest in either her or her child.

Yawning tiredly, she clambered out of the now cold water. She dried herself, got into her nightgown and prepared for bed. Even if it killed her, she vowed to keep Aurora safe from that evil man. She smiled as she remembered her fears when she had been carrying her daughter – the fear that she may hate the child when it was born. How foolish she had been! As soon as the Medi-Witch had put a howling red-faced Aurora into her arms, Hermione had fallen in love with the helpless bundle and had not looked back since.

She climbed gratefully into bed and lay down. Whatever happened, she thought drowsily, she had a tight-knit network of people to fight for her and her daughter – more than could be said for many people she had heard of. There was no point in worrying before she had to, and with this comforting thought, she drifted off to sleep.