Hermione opened her mouth to speak. To say what exactly, she wasn't sure. Nothing, absolutely nothing she said could explain this to her best friend that stood before her. The evidence strewn across the floor of the common room left little to the imagination. There was no excuse to give, no lie to hurriedly think up that would resolve this.

"Hermione," Harry finally said hesitantly as his eyes locked back onto her. His tone bordered on that one may have used to address someone on their deathbed. "Are you alright?"

She blinked at him and then seemed to come back to herself. She may have been standing there in only a towel, but he was the one who had barged in so early in the morning. "Of course, I'm alright," she snapped. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"I mean, you're coming out of Malfoy's bedroom," Harry said, his eyes wide with concern. "Do you still have a concussion from the stairs or something?"

Hermione bristled and drew the towel more taut around herself. "Madame Pomfrey gave me a clean bill of health weeks ago."

"Then why are you..." Harry swallowed, and his face went a bit pink as his gaze briefly dipped from hers to the towel.

"It's none of your business," she said.

Harry took a step toward her. "It is my business. If he forced...if he threatened you..."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "It was all consensual."

This seemed to both infuriate and confuse him. "Hermione, he's a Death Eater!"

She rolled her eyes. "No, he isn't, Harry."

He brandished the map at her. "He's still going to the Room of Requirement, same as last year. Only...only now there's teachers standing guard, and...escorting him back here at dawn. And, look, I've been watching him on here long enough to know that something's up. It feels even weirder than last year, Hermione."

Hermione clenched her jaw. How closely had he been watching the map? Had he been paying enough attention to realize that those two visits to the Room of Requirement had both happened on a full moon? She doubted it, but if he continued spying on Draco via the map, the pattern would surely become noticeable as the months wore on. She had hoped that the start of a new year combined with Dumbledore himself telling Harry to drop the accusations against Draco would be enough to make Harry stop. But, obviously, that wasn't the case. He was seemingly determined to catch Draco doing something he shouldn't.

"Look, I don't know what messed up sort of thing is going on here," Harry said. "Maybe you're lonely. Maybe it's pregnancy hormones. I don't know. But, he's dangerous. And he's an ass. He's never treated anyone with any decency unless they're pureblood. How can you do...that...with him? I mean, Hermione, pick anyone else."

Hermione scowled. "I don't need to explain my decisions or actions to anyone, Harry, including you."

Harry clenched his jaw so hard that she could have sworn she heard his teeth grind together. He folded the map up and put it inside an inner pocket of his robes and then moved so he was standing directly in front of her. He gripped her upper arms firmly, though it wasn't painful. It seemed he was preparing himself to say the most serious thing he'd ever uttered in his life. "Hermione." He looked directly into her face. "I have known you for six years. We have been through hell and back. You're the closest thing I have to a sister. And he-" Harry nodded toward Draco's closed door over her shoulder. "-has made you cry, wished you dead, yelled classist slurs at you, and more for those same six years. And now, you're, what, sleeping with him? Dating him? Hermione. What is going on?"

Hermione swallowed. She knew from Harry's perspective that this all looked strange, even insane. She knew his concern was coming from the right place. But he still knew the old version of Draco, and he could never begin to understand what she saw in him now. And she couldn't even try to explain because explaining would mean telling the truth about Draco's being a werewolf. "Harry," she began, and it felt like her throat had been glued together. "Please, drop it. He's changed. That's all I can tell you," she whispered.

Harry shook his head and gave her arms the tiniest of squeezes. "Hermione, I want to help you."

"I don't need help. He isn't dangerous. As I said, he's changed."

"How do you know?" Harry asked, his eyes roaming her face as if searching for clues of the truth there. "What did he tell you that was so convincing?"

"I can't tell you," she said. She took a step back, and he released her, his arms falling to his sides. "You just have to trust me, Harry."

Harry scowled and didn't say anything for a long moment. "Dumbledore and the teachers know what he's up to?"

"He's not up to anything."

"And Lupin and Tonks...they really did take him in this summer after he was disinherited? And they're on good terms? Lupin says they are..."

Hermione nodded.

"I'm nowhere near done talking about this," Harry told her. "And I can't promise I'll stop watching the map for anything fishy. But, I know you're going through a lot right now. And if coping means..." He shut his eyes as if it would help block out the image of her and Draco in a questionable position together. He opened his eyes, his gaze lit with fresh determination. "Look, I guess do what you need to do. But, if he hurts you in any way..."

"I'll be fine, Harry. Really."

Harry looked doubtful but didn't pursue the subject further. "Listen, I didn't just come here because I saw you two together on the map. Ron wrote to me. Pig just delivered the letter twenty minutes ago."

At this, Hermione stiffened, and that familiar feeling of cold water in her veins was back. "And? What...what did he say?" She hated how much she both wanted and dreaded to hear that he was asking for his best friend's forgiveness.

Harry shrugged a shoulder. "Nothing much. He says it's boring being at home, except when his parents are yelling at him about the..." He paused and motioned at Hermione's rounded belly. "Situation. But, he did ask how you're doing."

"Ha! Like he actually cares," came a sharp retort from over Hermione's shoulder.

Both Harry and Hermione looked toward Draco's bedroom. The blond stood in the doorway, wearing nothing but his briefs. Hermione's cheeks colored, and Harry scowled.

"Put on some clothes, Malfoy," Harry grumbled, looking away in disgust.

Draco walked past them to the fireplace. "I am. Remember, it's your fault you're in here." He crouched down next to where Crookshanks lay on the floor contently snuggled up in Draco's discarded trousers and began to attempt to extract them from underneath the large cat. "And it's Lupin now, Potter."

Harry frowned. "You'll always be Malfoy to me."

"That's touching," Draco said coolly. "You should write my parents and tell them that." He stood and shook out his pants before pulling them on. "Now, did Weasley even bother to apologize in this letter? Or was he just checking that he's not being arrested for assault or attempted homicide of his unborn child? And why didn't Hermione receive a letter?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow at Harry, making it clear she had nothing to add and that she had the same questions.

Harry shook his head. "He didn't apologize, no. It also sounded very forced anyway. I think Mrs. Weasley pressured him into writing. She wanted to let us know we're still invited for Christmas if we'd like to come." Harry held up his hand when Hermione opened her mouth to respond. "I'm not suggesting you agree to go. I'm just passing along the message. Ron would definitely be there. He's not allowed to leave the Burrow except for his work at St. Mungo's right now, so he can't just up and disappear to Charlie's for the holidays."

"So, Mrs. Weasley wants everyone to pretend her son didn't just try to murder his child and one of his best friends and instead play one big, happy family?" Draco asked. He crossed his arms over his chest, which was still devoid of a shirt. It seemed he had abandoned getting dressed in favor of weighing in on Ron's ridiculous behavior. "That's stupid."

"I didn't say I agreed with this plan," Harry said. He looked back at Hermione. "You have a while to decide. I just didn't know how you want me to respond to the letter."

"I...don't know," Hermione said slowly. She wrapped her arms around herself, careful not to dislodge the towel. The Christmas holidays were so far away in her mind - it was still several days until November! But this prospect of visiting the Weasleys, and of seeing Ron for what would be the first time since his cruel actions at the Quidditch match, made the end of term seem suddenly far too close. She wasn't ready to see him. She wasn't sure if she wanted to interact with him at all at the present time. But, she loved the rest of the Weasleys, and if she wanted her child to know his or her grandparents and aunt and uncles, seeing Ron eventually was something she couldn't avoid forever.

"Well, think about it," Harry said. "I'll give it a couple days before I send a response. But, just know that if you decide to go, me, Ginny, and everybody else will be there to defend you if Ron starts running his mouth or...tries anything."

Hermione nodded. "I'll let you know. Thanks, Harry."

Harry cast one last scowl in Draco's direction before leaving through the portrait hole. As soon as he had gone and Draco had resumed trying to locate his shirt on the floor, Hermione rushed off to her bedroom.


Draco had just finished buttoning his shirt when he heard Hermione start crying. He tensed, quite ready to burst through her bedroom door to get to her. But he stopped himself. He could hear her moving around and opening and shutting drawers. There was the rustling of fabric.

He picked up her previous night's discarded clothing from the common room, giving her time to get dressed. As he carried the small pile of clothing to the door, Crookshanks was at his heels. "Hermione?" Draco called softly through the door. Crookshanks pawed at the baseboard and meowed for good measure.

The door opened a few seconds later, revealing a puffy-eyed Hermione. "Thanks," she said, pulling the bundle of clothes from his arms. She left the door open as she moved to transfer the clothes to her hamper near her wardrobe. She had changed into what he recognized as Muggle lounge clothes - sweatpants and a lightweight top.

"Do you need anything?" he asked, stepping hesitantly over the threshold even as Crookshanks darted past his ankles and disappeared under the bed. "Like Weasley's head on a plate?"

She gave a slightly choked laugh and then sighed. She slumped onto the bed and stared dejectedly at the bedspread. "He didn't even say he was sorry," she said.

Draco was at her side instantly when he saw fresh tears running down her cheeks. He sat beside her and pulled her into his arms. After last night, he wasn't sure what they were to each other. It had likely been a one-time thing. After all, she had a child to worry about, and he, well, he wasn't sure as to his own future plans. But, he rather doubted that his future involved being a surrogate father to a newborn when he had to figure out a whole new life now that he had no money and very few connections that might look past the label of 'werewolf.' But what he did know was that she needed someone there for her just then, and he was happy to fill that supportive friend role.

"Weasley's an asshole," he murmured into her hair.

She sniffled and laid her head on his shoulder. "I guess I just thought...I don't know. I guess I thought that even if he didn't care about the baby, he might have felt bad about hurting me. I know he apologized before he pushed me, but-"

"That doesn't count," Draco said. Honestly, if Weasley thought that counted as the only apology he would ever have to give for his behavior that day, he had another thing coming. If Hermione did go to the Weasleys' for Christmas, the boy would need to spend the entirety of her stay begging at her feet for forgiveness. Even then, Draco wasn't sure even that would scratch the surface of the damage done.

"I know." Hermione sighed. It was promptly followed by a gasp, and they both tensed.

"What? What's wrong?" Draco asked in alarm, pulling back from her and scanning her face.

Her expression was somewhere between awe and shock. One hand was pressed to her stomach.

"Hermione?"

She wordlessly took his hand and guided it to her belly as well. "Do you feel that?" she whispered.

It wasn't much, but yes, Draco felt something move underneath her skin that was definitely not from her normal breathing. "Is that the baby?" he asked just as quietly. When she nodded, he added, "Is this the first time it's kicked?"

"First time that's been this strong," Hermione said. "It's only been flutters before."

"Wow." He smiled, and she returned the grin. It was amazing, he thought, just how beautiful she looked even when she had been crying just a moment previous. He longed to bring her closer, to hold her properly. He would have done just that in his bed earlier had he not awoken to find her already gone and talking to Potter in the common room. Had she left the bed before or after realizing Potter was in their dormitory? And if she hadn't realized Potter was out there waiting to ambush them, why had she chosen to leave his bed without saying anything? Was she, perhaps, regretting what they had shared the previous night?

A soft clearing of a throat wrenched him back to his senses. Dobby was peering into the open room, a serving tray with Hermione's breakfast and usual morning potion clutched in his long-fingered hands. "Good morning," he squeaked.

Draco got to his feet hurriedly, his face reddening. "Well, I'll leave you to your breakfast and be on my way to get my own," he told Hermione without looking at her. He nodded curtly to Dobby on his way out the door.