Chapter Text
Feeling tired, even though she had just woken up, Hermione looked at the old mirror. Two bright brown eyes stared straight back at her. She didn’t look half as tired as she felt. She had a glow in cheeks and there weren’t any dark circles under her eyes. That was weird, she truly felt like she would be pale and groggy looking. What was wrong with her?
Maybe she was coming down with something. Hopefully nothing bad, she had really been looking forward to this long weekend off work. Four days of uninterrupted freedom, to be spend with her newlywed husband. It would spoil the fun if she had to spend that time alone in bed. It wasn’t unusual for her to feel like this, for she normally struggled to sleep. She wasn’t Ron, who could sleep anywhere, anytime. But she’d had a good night, one of blissful, dreamless sleep. There had to be a reason why she was feeling like this and she was going to find it.
Hermione entered the living room to fetch her book on Magical care of humdrum maladies and injuries. Flipping through the book she wandered into the kitchen and put the kettle on. Pouring a cup of tea for herself she found the page she was looking for. Fatigue. She scanned the page; Iron deficiency or anaemia, symptoms of the menstrual cycle, common cold, flu, winter depression. Well, it couldn’t be the last one. It was the middle of the summer for crying out loud. Maybe it was just a common cold then. That wasn’t too bad, she had a potion prepared for that.
On her way to the cupboard Hermione picked up a piece of toast. She nibbled on the it while searching for the potion. Her stomach squirmed uncomfortably. She quickly put the toast down.
Ha, found it. A little greenish bottle with a yellow label. She read the label, like she always did.
Common Cold Killer. Potions for all your common illnesses. Do not use when pregnant! The last line immediately caught her eye. Pregnant. She hadn’t really thought of that. Could it be? She was almost 100% certain she had taken her birth control potion, hadn’t she? She could not remember a day she hadn’t taken it. How on earth could she have forgotten something that simple? No surely she hadn’t. She, Hermione, did not ever forget something like a birth control potion. That was impossible, right?
Hermione put the cold potion down and went back to the bookshelf. Her humdrum injuries book was still propped open on the kitchen table. Hermione picked it up, flicking through it until she came to the pregnancy section. Now that she had her mind on it she began to recognise a few of the symptoms mentioned for the first trimester. Tiredness, nausea, tingly fingers. Could it be?
Hermione flipped around to face the bookshelf again, scanning the backs of her books, she started counting in her head. Twenty-fourth, twenty-fifth…. Was it the twenty-eight already? Without realising it she had already been a week late for her period.
Hermione ran her fingers along the leather spines on the shelf. She had this one book, Mrs. Weasley had given it to her just a few weeks ago. It was the sequel too her magical care book called Magical care of humdrum maladies and injuries; potions and spells for young wizards and witches.
Summoning another cup of tea Hermione opened the book and let her finger run down the index page. Chapter 19 Pregnancy: pregnancy test, morning sickness potion, how to de-swell your feet and more. Page 345. Hermione flipped to the correct page and started to read the potion’s descriptions. It was a very simple potion to make. It took about 20 minutes and used common household ingredients. When finished she didn’t even have to pee in it, like muggle pregnancy tests. Any piece of her that went into the potion would do the trick. Easy peasy.
Hermione immediately set to work, brewing the potion on the hob in her smallest cauldron. When the potion was simmering, she set out to prepare bacon and eggs for Ron. He would want some when he eventually woke up. The sticky scent of baking grease made her stomach clench and flip once more. Hermione quickly opened the kitchen window, the summer breeze did wonders.
She started humming when her potion was almost done. It had turned into a lovely shade of purple. Almost lilac. It smelled nice too, like spring. Hermione took the cauldron off the heat and put a little of it in a glass. Plucking a hair out of her head she added it to the glass. It fizzled a little and then disappeared. Hermione waited for a few minutes until the potion slowly turned into a soft apple green. She turned back to the book, holding her breath.
Under the description was the explanation: orange- you’re not pregnant. Which meant: green- you are pregnant, congratulations!
Well, congratulations indeed. Hermione stared at the words, taken aback by what they meant. Slowly put the cup down in the sink, trying her best to wrap her head around this newfound information. She had not been prepared. While brewing and cooking for 20 minutes she had not even seriously considered this outcome. Absentmindedly both hands folded over her belly as she stared out of the kitchen window. Outside the world looked no different. It was a beautiful day. Perfectly sunny, not a cloud to be seen. The soft wind rustled the leaves of their sturdy apple tree. Little green apples where hidden between the branches., waiting to grow plump and ripen in the sun. A small bumblebee flew past the window, its hind legs covered with pollen. Such a lovely sight. Such a wonderful, quiet day. Such a stark contrast to the buzzing inside her head.
She did not think she was ready to be a mother. Not at her age! Twenty-six wasn’t the age she had planned to get pregnant. She had wanted to wait. What would her boss say about this, and her colleagues? This could impact her career.
She would have to tell her mom. But surely she would be happy.
Her mother in law would be delighted. Yet another grandchild.
‘What am I going to do about this?’ Hermione thought, ‘What will I tell Ron? When?’ She was about to turn away from the window when two big, familiar hands take hold of her shoulders. She felt them move down and around her until they were on top of hers. With a small tug she was pulled in a tight hug. His warm breath grazed the top of her head just before he planted a kiss in her bushy hair. Hermione smiled to herself and turned around. Mere millimetres from her stood her drowsy looking man. His hair was tangled and his face covered in freckles. His pyjama top hung open, one end tugged into the bottom. His bare feet were sticking out under the dark green fabric. It was such an adorable sight that Hermione started to laugh quietly. She kissed his freckled nose and then spun out of his arms.
One swish of her wand made a plate jump from the cupboard as the kettle poured tea in a clean cup and the furnace reheated the bacon and eggs. She had long ago mastered the art of doing several things at once, it came quite natural to her. Ron watched her from his spot in the doorway. The way she moved had always baffled him. Her grace was his greatest envy. His clumsy limbs would have poured at least half the tea outside the cup. Hermione caught the tea and the plate and placed them on the kitchen table. She swiftly closed both of the books she had consulted. With another flick of her wand she send them back to the bookshelf before she picked up her barely eaten toast and plopped down in a seat. Ron sat down with a small smile on his face.
“Good morning ‘Mione! You look stunning today!” he croaked in his I-just-woke voice. Hermione smiled and took a careful bite out of her toast. Her stomach turned over, so she put it down. Ron fell upon his food as though he had not eaten for days. If you saw him eat you wouldn’t say his wife cooked him three perfectly good, well balanced meals a day. Hermione snug a little piece of egg from his plate and popped it in her mouth. It did no better than the toast.
Chewing she considered all the latest facts: ‘I can’t be more than a month pregnant.’ She thought ‘I would have noticed it if I had missed another period.’ Hermione got up, still deep in thought she went over to the calendar to count the days again. There was a little red dot in one of the corners. She counted the days that had passed since then, 38 days. That was more then she expected, she’d miscounted before. With moving house and her job, more days had passed than she had realised. Among those day, evidently, was a day where she had not been careful with her potions.
“What’s wrong ‘Mione? You look troubled.” Ron had finished his breakfast and observed his wife cautiously. Hermione turned to him and smiled.
“Just counting the days, isn’t it incredible that we’ve been living in our cottage for a month already?”
“A month, really? It certainly doesn’t feel like that.” Ron answered. He carried his plate to the sink, where he found the little cup, filled with green liquid.
“It’s 30 days ago that we slept in this house for the first time, remember that?” Hermione asked.
Ron nodded, still holding the cup, examining it. “What is this stuff? It looks like a potion, are you feeling alright?”
He held up the cup and Hermione quietly cursed herself for not cleaning up after herself properly. She was so tired though, that was probably why she had forgotten. Should she just tell him? She went over to the sink, took the cup out of his hands poured the liquid down the drain, then picked up the little cauldron.
“It’s nothing, just a little test. I had to be sure.” She transferred the potion to a little glass bottle so she may try again later, just to see if it was still true. Maybe it was all a mistake. These things weren’t always accurate. There could have been a false positive.
Ron looked at her, puzzled. He knew she could be cryptic when her head was busy working something out. He would hear about it eventually. He watched her while she flicked her wand to make the brush and soap start the washing up. There was something tired about her wand work. He could not quite put his finger on it, but there was something fragile and tired-looking about her in general. But knowing Hermione, she would certainly not want him to put these thoughts into words. So he’d let her be. “You look… did you sleep well last night?”
Hermione looked up and smiled weakly. “Not really, is it that obvious?” she could just go with it; it would explain a lot of things that she didn’t really know how to explain just yet. Ron nodded. He put his arms around her and held her close. Her hair brushed under his chin and her warm breath tickled on his bare chest. Hermione stood up on her toes and kissed him lightly on the lips, she ran her fingers lightly through his messy red hair before turning and tiptoeing away. She needed a book on this kind of thing.
“Love, do you mind it if I go out for a bit? I need to get a book, something to read this weekend.” She heard a chuckle behind her. Annoyed Hermione whipped around to find her husband holding his stomach in silent laughter.
“Only my Hermione would be unsatisfied with the reading material of her entire library to tie her over for a long weekend. I love you ‘Mione, but you can be utterly absurd.”
Hermione ignored him and left the house in a flurry of indignant huffing (Hermione) and amused chuckling (Ron). She gracefully turned on the doorstep and found herself seconds later, in front of Flourish and Blotts Bookshop in Diagon Alley. She entered the store and hurriedly she looked around.
“Where in the name of Dumbledore do they keep books on pregnancy?” Hermione muttered to herself. She knew this store inside out, but she had never had a pressing interest in books on pregnancy. Not until now. She was almost certain it must be somewhere near the books on health and taking care of minor injuries. So she went upstairs and soon found herself surrounded by books about health. Walking slowly alongside the bookshelves she scanned all the titles.
There where so many books on these shelves, thick books with old grey bindings, thin and brightly coloured books, books that flashed like rainbows when you tried to read the back, books that where spotlessly white with bright red letters and very small pocket sized books to take with you on a trip. Finally she found the ‘young mothers and babies’ section. It contained books in all kinds of soft colours, soft pinks and blues and babyish yellow. Most of the books in this corner made her feel slightly sick in the stomach. They strongly reminded her of the plates with little kittens in Umbridge’s office.
A big, reddish coloured binding caught her eye. In bright gold shone the letters: The guide through magical pregnancy: How to deal with the magical child from the day it is conceived until the very day it has to come out.
‘It’s perfect’ Hermione thought to herself. She sat down, laid the book open on her knee and started reading. It was amazing. She didn’t want to put the book down. Her nose was still buried in it she walked to the counter. The shop-assistant, a cutesy seventeen years old girl with highly blond hair and a startlingly pink robe, watched her approach. She started laughing as soon as she recognized the customer. She’d worked in this store all summer and immediately recognised their best customer. There wasn’t anyone in the British wizarding society who didn’t know her, nor was there anyone who visited the shop as often. Hermione Granger-Weasley looked up at the sound and blushed a deep scarlet. She lay the book down and fetched her purse from her pocket. Without looking up she paid and left.