I sigh and rub my eyes. The latest case to grace my office is almost to the level of the Anderson trial and it is slowly killing me. I glance to the clock and groan when I see the time is only six o'clock. I have accepted more hours now that I have no one to return home to. While I am enjoying my work, I am emotional and physically exhausted. Leaning back in my chair, I let my eyes flutter shut. Surely a quick nap wouldn't kill me…

"Miss Granger?"

April's voice from the intercom makes me jump in my chair, causing me to hit my knees against my desk.

"Ah shit," I hiss at the pain. "Yes, April?'

"Mr. Malfoy is here to see you."

Well isn't that perfect. "Yes, all right, send him in."

I smooth my blouse and adjust the files on my desk as the door to my office swings open. Malfoy strolls in sans robes, wearing nothing but black slacks and a white button up shirt. I envy his attire, unconsciously fixing my skirt as it rides up my legs when I cross them.

"Evening, Granger," he says as he flops into one of the chairs in front of me. He leans forward and places the two wine glasses I didn't notice he carried in on my desk.

I arch an eyebrow. "What are you doing?"

Malfoy conjures a bottle of champagne with his wand and sets in on the desk besides the glasses. "Today's the day, Granger. Anderson's final appeal has been denied and as we speak he is being admitted to Azkaban. I believe this calls for celebration, don't you?"

I can't help the small smile that forms on my face. "That does sound lovely, Malfoy, but I could hardly condone drinking on the job. Or at the job."

Malfoy's lips pull back in a sneer. "Still the goodie-goodie two-shoes from school I see. All right, Granger. Name a place. You are the only semi-sane person still working and I refuse to look like a pathetic loser drinking alone. Besides, I think we deserve to celebrate."

I scoff. "What about Reed? He was the prosecutor of the case."

"I said semi-sane, Granger. Reed is an idiot and besides, he left early today. Had a date with his wife or something like that." He rolls his eyes. "So, are you coming or not?"

I look back at the cases in front of me. "I don't know, Malfoy. I agreed to take on more hours at work ever since-"

He arches an eyebrow. "Don't be such a stick in the mud, Granger. Live a little. When was the last time you went out?"

"I go out-"

"Sorry, went out and had anything remotely resembling fun? I'd venture a guess and say not for five or so years."

"Hey! Do not bring my relationship with Ron into this!"

He shrugs and grabs the bottle to open it. "You're the one who mentioned him, not me."

I watch as he taps the cork with his wand, vanishing it from sight. He grabs one of the glasses and pours himself some champagne before setting the bottle aside and taking a sip.

"Come on, Granger. Don't let me be the only one drinking here."

"No, I don't think so. I do not like the idea of drinking on the job. And you brought Ron up by implying our relationship was boring- you started it not me."

Malfoy tilts his head to the side. "And yet, here you are- continuing to bring him up. I was willing to move on from that. It would appear that you are not."

I narrow my eyes at him. "Don't be a prick in my office, Malfoy."

"Well then, why don't you come to mine so I can continue insulting you and Weasel? It's more fun for me."

"Some of us actually have work to do."

Malfoy scoffs and drinks the rest of the champagne in his glass. "Please, Granger. I have work, I'm choosing to ignore it for the moment. My first case as Department Head is officially over; Anderson has not one, not two, but three life sentences in Azkaban, and I have a great bottle of champagne. Why on earth would I want to do anything else but drink it?"

I roll my eyes and push the glass he brought me closer to him so I won't be tempted. "Unfortunately, I can't afford to do that right now. The department just took on another two big cases, not to mention the Chief Warlock is thinking about accepting more trivial cases to make sure 'all of the Wizarding World receives justice, not just the big and mighty' so I have to deal with that too."

Malfoy groans and vanishes the glasses and the champagne. "If you wanted my help, all you had to do was ask."

"Your help? I do not need or want your help, Malfoy."

"Merlin, what's gotten into you, Granger? It is your time of the month? No need to be so rude."

I open my mouth to give a witty retort when I stop in my tracks. Time of the month. I should be on my period right now. Right? Merlin, I need to keep track of that better. I ignore Malfoy and start counting the days back in my head. 1…2…3…4…5…

"Um, hello? Earth to Granger? Can you hear me under all that frizz you call hair?"

"Shut up, Malfoy, I'm counting."

"Counting? Counting what?"

"Just shut up will you?"

28…29…30…31…

Malfoy begins tapping his foot impatiently. He breathes heavily through his nose, his face cross.

35…36…37…38… shit.

"What?"

I look up at him, startled.

"You just said 'shit,' Granger. I'm asking why you said that. Conversations are typically two way, you know."

"I need to go out."

Malfoy's face breaks out into a smile. "Now you're talking!"

"What? No, no! I need to go to a drug store."

"A what?"

I ignore him as I quickly gather my things, shoving some case files into my bag.

"Slow down Granger, where's the fire?"

I glance up at him in shock. "How do you know that phrase? It's a Muggle saying."

"Granger, my secretary is a Muggleborn," he says dryly.

"Oh, right. I knew that."

I pull on my cloak, muttering profanities under my breath when I skip a button and have to start all over.

"I am quite amused by this," Malfoy says with a smirk. "This 'drug store' has got you quite worked up, hasn't it? I think I'll accompany you there."

"Don't be ridiculous, Malfoy," I huff.

I glance up at him to discover him already wearing his coat with that stupid smirk on his face.

"Don't you have work to bring home?" I ask in a desperate attempt to fend him off.

"Nope. Come on, Granger. Show me this 'drug store'."

I groan and swing my bag over my shoulder. "Fine, but I swear to Merlin, Malfoy if you make me regret this…"

"Granger, please. What's the worst that could happen?"

"Oh plenty, I assure you."

"Oi, Granger! Look at all the liquor they've got! And food! I thought you said this was a drug store."

I groan, covering my face with my hand. Malfoy would be surprised to find other things than drugs in a bloody Walgreens.

"Yes, I know, Malfoy. Now keep your voice down!"

I move away from him toward the back of the store, praying he doesn't follow me. This is embarrassing enough without him hounding me. I quickly find the aisle I need and grab the first pregnancy test I see. I couldn't give a damn about price or quality; I'll charm it to make sure I don't get a false positive. I hurry back to the cash register, opting for a self-checkout. I scan the test as fast as possible and hide it away in the plastic bag, swiping my card before Malfoy can see my purchase. Breathing a sigh of relief, I grab the bag and make a break for the door.

"Granger! You planning on leaving without me?"

I turn to find Malfoy will his arms full with various candies, liquor and Muggle school supplies.

"What the hell do you need all that for?" I ask in shock as he sets them down at an empty cash register.

He shrugs. "I wanted to see how much money I could get you to spend in your flustered state, but it appears you've already checked out."

"Well are you going to buy that stuff?"

"Of course not," he scoffs. "I don't carry Muggle money."

He brushes past me and holds open the door. When I don't move, he whistles for me like a dog.

"Today, please!"

"I really do not have the patience for your attitude, Malfoy," I hiss as I storm past him.

"Then why aren't you just Apparating away?"

"My flat has wards against. You can't Apparate into it or into the building, but you can Disapparate. It forces me to at least walk home from the Ministry."

Malfoy arches a blonde eyebrow and shakes his head. "I will never understand you, Granger."

We round the corner and my heart stops. Daily Prophet reporters are camped outside my apartment complex. This is actually the last thing I need in the middle of a pregnancy scare.

"Fuck," Malfoy whispers to himself. "The last thing we need is for them to think we're together or something equally absurd."

I glare up at him. "Oh yes, the Pureblood Prince wouldn't dare touch the filthy Mudblood commoner, now would he?"

Malfoy's lips pull back into a growl. "Watch it, Granger. Or I might do something I'll regret."

"Go on," I hiss. "Wouldn't be the first time you make a complete and total arse of yourself!"

I see the flash of Malfoy's hand but it doesn't grab me. Instead, he latches onto my plastic bag, tearing a hole in it and grabbing the box I had done my best to hide from him.

"Malfoy, don't!"

Too late. The box is in his hand, shock clear on his face.

"You're pregnant."

"Well I don't know, hence the fucking test," I hiss, snatching the box back and stuffing it into my pocket, the ripped bag forgotten on the ground.

Malfoy glances back up at the reporters who haven't noticed us yet.

"Give me your bag," he says suddenly.

"What? No!"

Malfoy lets out a growl and grabs the strap of my bag. "Listen Granger, do you want to get into your apartment without causing a scene, or not?"

"I won't cause too much of a scene if you weren't here," I snarl.

"Yes, but I am, so deal with it."

"No! Why don't you just go home?"

"Because," he says as he reaches into my bag despite my protests and pulls out one of the case files, "this is more fun."

"Fun? You think diving into reporter infested waters is fun?"

"Just trust me, would you?"

Before I can properly explain to him and no I most certainly do not trust him, Malfoy grabs my arm and ushers me toward the front doors of my apartment building. Just as the first reporters see us coming, Malfoy holds up the case file to block our faces. He pulls me through the crowd to the door and practically shoves me inside once I unlock the door.

"What was the point of that?" I hiss as he pulls me away from the windows.

"They won't be able to print any of those pictures and what's a story without photographic evidence?"

"What do you mean they won't be able to print those pictures?"

Malfoy holds up the file, showing me the Ministry's symbol. "The Prophet can't print anything with this symbol on it; that way they can't accidentally or purposefully reveal official documents from the Ministry. The minute they took those pictures of us, the camera destroyed the image."

My eyes widen. "Seriously?"

"How do you think I've avoided having my picture taken for so long? I usually carry one of these on me at all times."

"That… that is actually pretty smart."

"Yeah, thanks Granger. Good to know you have so much confidence in me."

I glare at him as we step into the elevator. "Why are you even still here?" I snap.

He shrugs and leans against the wall. "Don't know. I like pissing you off though, and this seems like a good way to do it."

"I really can't deal with you right now, Malfoy. Just leave, will you?"

"Have it your way then."

I watch him turn on the spot and Disapparate, breathing a sigh of relief once he's gone.

The elevator doors open and I exit swiftly, heading to my flat and opening the door. I lock it behind me, biting back my initial reaction to call out and see if Ron is home. I really need to stop doing that. I drape my cloak over a chair and turn the pregnancy test over in my hands as I slowly make my way to the bathroom. It doesn't seem too complicated.

I take a deep breath and sit down on the toilet, ripping open the box and pulling out the small plastic stick. I wave my wand over it to make sure it won't give me a false positive. I try to think happy thoughts as I hold the stick under me and do my best not to pee on my hands.

Once I finish I set the stick down to wash my hands. Again. And again. Then curiosity gets the better of me and I pick it back up.

I stare down at the plastic stick in my hands. Two minutes suddenly feels a lot longer than usual. Biting my lip, I look up at the mirror. My face is pale, my hair disheveled. I look like I haven't slept in days, and unfortunately that is the case.

I put down the stick as if it has burned me, resting it on the ledge of the sink. My eyes dart toward the bathroom door, unconsciously moving my thumb to my mouth so I can bite my nail. After a moment I realize what I'm doing and quickly stop, dropping the hand to hold my neck, my other arm wrapped around my waist.

My eyes glance back at the stick and I reach out for it slowly as if it were a wild animal. I suck in a deep breath and hold it up to my face so I can see the results.

Two pink lines.

I'm pregnant.

My first reaction is to scream. Violently and loudly. I drop the stick to the floor, panic coursing through my body. I can't be pregnant. I… I just can't be.

I run to the living room and throw Floo powder into my fireplace. I'm not thinking as I call out Harry's address and step into the flames. In a swirl of green and heat, I find myself sitting in the middle of ash and soot in the Potter residence.

"Hermione? What are you doing here?"

Harry's hands find mine and he pulls me to my feet, helping me dust off my clothes.

"I-I… I need to talk to you. And Ginny."

Harry's brows pull together. "Yeah, sure thing. Ginny! Come down to the living room, will you?"

I hear footsteps from deeper in the house and then see Ginny round the corner. "Hermione?" She glances between Harry and me. "Not that I'm not happy to see you, but what are you doing here?"

I can't help the tears. I'm distraught and angry and surprised and nervous and it all is too much right now. Instantly, Harry and Ginny wrap their arms around me, whispering soothing things to me; their arms are the only things that are keeping me upright.

"What happened?" Harry asks as they guide me to a chair. "Was it Ron?"

"Yes and no," I sob.

"Well what does that mean?" Ginny asks.

I cover my face in my hands. "I'm pregnant."

Stunned silence is my only reply.

"It's Ron's, isn't?" Ginny asks.

I nod, my shoulders beginning to shake as I do my best to control my emotions.

"Have you told him?"

"No! I just found out."

"Are… are you going to tell him?" Harry asks.

"I'll have to eventually, won't I?" I ask, my tears turning into sniffles. "I mean, he's going to find out soon or later."

"What are you going to do?"

"I… I don't know."

"That is perfectly all right," Ginny says soothingly, taking my hands in hers. "You don't need all the answers right now. Tell us what you want us to do. Would you like one of us to tell Ron?"

"I… I suppose that would be all right. But not yet. I need some time… time to figure out what I'm going to do. I'll let you know when to tell him."

"In the meantime," Harry interjects, "you might want to see a doctor; you know, get everything checked out."

"I can't go to St. Mungo's- it would make the front page of the Prophet!"

"Don't worry; you can go to a Muggle doctor. We'll even go with you if you'd like."

"Would you? Please?"

"Of course, Hermione. We're going to be here for you."