all characters belong to JKR

This is the third installment of "A week in the Life" series. You might want to read the first two before this one, since several things that take place in this one will refer to scenes from those stories. This takes place two months after "Another week in the life". Enjoy!

A Third Week in the Life


Anne M

Chapter 1: Day 1, 2nd Month, Thursday

Day one, 13th February, Thursday: 2nd Month:

Hermione was in the bathroom throwing up. She told Draco she thought she had eaten something bad. The thing was she had been throwing up on and off now for at least a month. Dreading what the true reason for her present affliction might be, she pushed all thoughts out of her mind, and walked downstairs to find her husband. She wanted to discuss their plans for Valentine's Day. It was tomorrow, and it would be their first one together.

She got as far as the bedroom door, and had to turn around and head back toward the bathroom. What was wrong with her? This was the third time this week she had been nauseated. Actually, it was the first time she had vomited. The last two times she felt better by the afternoon. If she did not feel better soon, she would go see a healer. She finished throwing up; the second time today, but remained by the toilet, just in case. She was still very nauseated.

Draco was at the bottom of the stairs and he could hear Hermione retching in their bathroom all the way from there. He ran up the stairs, to check on her, and went directly to the bathroom. She was on the marble floor, on her side, sweating profusely, and moaning slightly. "What's wrong, Granger?" Even though they had been married for a couple of months, he still always called her 'Granger'. He was not really into calling her sweetheart or baby; those types of names just did not seem to fit her. He came up to her and rubbed her back. "I think there's something more than bad food going on here. Maybe we should call the healer?" he suggested.

"Just leave me alone," she said weakly, "and don't touch me right now." She wiggled her back to remove his hand. Okay. She was throwing up and she was irritable to boot. Fine, he would leave her alone. He started out of the room, and she said, "Don't leave me." She always acted like this, so he was not that surprised. He came back and sat on the floor, and put her head in his lap. He stroked her hair.

After about ten minutes, she managed to sit up and he said, "Do you fancy a bath?"

"That would be nice," she said. She sat up and he helped her to her feet. As he was running the bath, and she was undressing, he took a good look at her nude body. It was as glorious and wonderful as always. The thing was, her breasts seemed larger, somehow. Did women's breasts grow after they were grown-up? He wouldn't know, but her breasts seemed fuller. He wasn't complaining. They were as wonderful as ever, as far as he was concerned. He sat on the side of the tub and she brushed her teeth. He laughed at the thought that just watching his naked wife perform good dental hygiene could make him hard with want for her. She walked over to him, and he wrapped his arms around her waist and put his head on her bare stomach. He kissed her belly. It seemed rounder as well. He let her go and turned off the water. She lowered herself in the tub, and he grabbed his paper from the nightstand, and came and joined her. He sat on the floor reading, as she took her bath.

This was their little ritual. They did this every morning. The house elves would bring in his paper and coffee, and leave them on the nightstand. He would drink his coffee, read the paper the first time, in bed of course, and then he would shower. She would get up, go eat breakfast (something he rarely ever did), and then she would come up and bathe, and he would join her in the bathroom and read the paper for the second time while she was in the bath. He always read the paper twice.

Her big orange cat, which had to be thirty years old by now, and should by all rights be dead, at least if Draco had a say in the matter, came sauntering in the bathroom, and had the gall to lay across Draco's legs. He shook his legs, but the cat, who must weigh the same as a small horse, and whose only purpose in life was to get hair on all of Draco's clothing, just stretched out further.

"Granger, why does your cat insist on attaching himself to me? Doesn't he know how much I hate him?" Draco asked, still wiggling his legs.

Hermione smiled and said, "He knows you really like him. Cats have an inane ability to sense when people are their soul mates. Your personalities are really quite similar."

Just then, Draco's little grey and white stripped tabby cat, which he named Spartacus, never mind that she was a girl, came in with her tail in the air, and a look that expressed, "I am the queen, bow to me." She sat in the corner of the bathroom and proceeded to have her own bath in the only little patch of sunlight that was gracing the bathroom floor with its presence.

Draco said to Crookshanks, Hermione's cat, "See you big fat turd, that's the way a cat is supposed to act. Regal, elegant, polite. You're supposed to have manners, and you aren't supposed to leave orange hair all over your master's best black trousers!" He finally maneuvered him off his legs.

"Draco," Hermione laughed, "how many times must I tell you, he doesn't recognize you as his master? He's not a dog. He probably thinks you belong to him. Frankly, I don't know what you've done to your little cat, but she's the nastiest, most aloof, finicky cat I've ever seen. You know, now that I think of it, her personality and yours are the ones that are similar." Hermione stood and wrapped herself in a towel. Draco stood as well, and went and picked up his cat.

"Ignore the mean woman; she's been in a bad mood. She's just jealous because her cat looks like it has two arses, instead of one arse and one face. She's jealous because you're so beautiful, just like me." He kissed the cat on the nose, and put it down.

Hermione rolled her eyes and said, "I would never have believed that Draco Malfoy would baby talk to a cat."

"And if you tell a living soul, I will cut your cat's heart out and feed it to mine," he said.

"That's the worse thing I have ever heard you say." Hermione pointed at him, "And I have heard you say some truly awful things." She went to get dressed. He sat on the bed, watching.

"Are you just going to leer at me?" she laughed.

"Yes, yes I am," he said back. Then he said, "You do realize that tomorrow is Valentine's Day, don't you?"

"Yes, Malfoy, I'm smart and I know things," Hermione said in a condescending way. She put on her underwear and her bra. Her breasts really did seem larger to Draco, not that he was complaining.

"So, how do you propose we celebrate this little occasion?" he asked her, still staring intently at her body.

Instead of answering him, she said, "I swear, my bras are smaller." Draco wanted to say, no, your breasts are larger, but that might end up in a fight. She would say, 'so you think I'm getting fat', and so on and so forth. He decided to keep quiet.

Since she seemed to be too pre-occupied with her 'smaller clothing' than in the whole idea of Valentine's Day, he decided to revisit the topic later. "So, you aren't sick any more?" He wondered why, if she had the flu, or even if it was something she had eaten, why was she suddenly fine?

"No, I'm better. I told you, it must have been something I'd eaten." Hermione was struggling to button a pair of jeans, and said, "I swear, Malfoy, I think the house elves are shrinking my clothes. All my pants seem too tight." She finally reached in the closet, and found a pair that suited her, and buttoned up her blouse, which she mumbled had shrunk as well, as it barely covered her breasts.

Draco sat on the bed, listening to everything she said, and derived a conclusion. "Granger?" he asked.

She came out of the closet with her shoes and said, "What?"

"When was your last menstrual cycle?" he asked.

She smiled and then laughed and said, "Why in the world do you want to know that? Are you keeping track of these things now?"

"Are you pregnant?" he blurted. It just came out, he couldn't help it.

"No, you're crazy," she said, yet she went over to her desk, brought out her daily planner and started counting days, and said, "No, see, I just had my cycle two weeks ago. See?" She held her calendar up to him.

He stood up and said, "Just wondering." He felt somewhat relieved. He wanted kids someday, but not for a while. He was selfish, and he wasn't ready to share his wife yet.

Draco walked out of the room and went to his study. Hermione, however, looked once more at her calendar. She lied to her husband. She apparently hadn't had a menstrual cycle since they have been married. Damn. She wrote Ginny Weasley an owl and asked her to meet her for lunch in Diagon Alley.


Hermione told Draco that she was going shopping. He hated to shop with her. He loved to shop, just not with her. First, she always took forever, and she rarely bought anything. She knew if she said she wanted to go shopping, and with Ginny on top of that, he wouldn't want to tag along. He told her goodbye and she took the floo network directly to the restaurant.

Ginny and Harry were already sitting at a table. She didn't want Harry to be there. She just needed to talk to Ginny. As soon as Hermione sat down, she said, "Why are you here, Harry?"

Harry gave her a funny look and said, "What a way to make your best friend feel loved, Hermione."

"It's just; this isn't just a friendly lunch. I need to talk to Ginny about something really, really important. It's private, marriage stuff. I just don't want to talk to you about it, not yet." She looked distressed.

"Hermione, you know you can tell me anything," Harry said concerned. Maybe she had finally come to her senses, and was going to divorce that stupid git she married. Worse, maybe he had been mean to her in some way. He wouldn't put anything past him.

"Harry, please, leave us alone, for a while," Hermione pleaded.

"NO!" he said firmly. "Tell me, what has Malfoy done now?" Harry asked, perturbed.

"Harry, why must you always think the worse of him? He's my husband," Hermione scolded.

Harry sat back with his hands folded across his chest. Ginny said, "Hermione, Harry loves you too, please just tell us both, what's going on?"

"Yes, Hermione, what has the stupid git done now?" Harry echoed.

"I think the stupid git has gotten me pregnant!" Hermione squeaked, and then she actually let her head drop on the table and started banging it up and down, to the embarrassment of her friends and the shock of the other diners.

Harry put his hand under her banging head, and said, "What did you say?"

"Oh, Harry, it's awful! I think I am pregnant! I don't want to be pregnant yet. But, I'm sick every morning, I've gain weight, I haven't had a period in two months, and my boobs are even bigger!"

"Okay, enough information!" Harry was going to leave when she mentioned her period, but he didn't ever want to imagine she had boobs. As far as he was concerned, Hermione Granger, his best friend for twelve years, was a person without gender, and he didn't want to ever think about, talk about, and especially never see, her 'boobs". In addition, he always liked to think of Malfoy as a eunuch. The thought of them in bed…yuck! "I'm going to let you girls talk. Bye!" Harry ran out of the restaurant.

He walked down the street and he saw Draco Malfoy coming straight toward him. He had the undeniable urge to punch him in the face. Hermione was like his sister, and the stupid prat had sex with her, and had gotten her pregnant. All rational thought, such as the thought that sex was something married people, and even unmarried people, did every day, left Harry Potter's mind at that moment. The only thing he could think was, 'I must kill Draco Malfoy'.

"Potter!" Draco yelled toward him, "Have you seen my wife? She was supposed to be somewhere here shopping."

"You're evil, and you have no soul, Malfoy," Harry said.

"Yes, yes, I know, but what does that have to do with anything?" Draco asked, "Have you seen my wife, or not?"

"Let me ask you something. When these marriage laws came about, and you were forced to marry a witch of less than pureblood birth, was there some type of stipulation that said you had to produce an heir by the end of the first year?" Harry asked.

"What are you going on about, now?" Draco asked. "Are you suffering from a head injury, or something?" Draco looked around, to see if this was some type of a joke.

"Answer me, Malfoy," Harry came closer. "Do you even know how to perform a contraception charm?"

"You're an idiot. What do my mating habits have to do with you? Do you want to know the different positions of copulation that my wife and I enjoy, as well?" Draco turned to leave, but Harry held his arm. Malfoy looked at the hand on his arm, and said, "I don't care if you are my wife's best friend, if you don't let go of my arm, I will effing take you down."

Potter let go of his arm, and said, "Why don't you look for her at St. Mungos. I am sure that's where Ginny will take her after lunch. Try the maternity ward." And Harry left.

"What the fuck?" Draco said aloud. He started walking down the street when a wave of nausea almost hit him. He suddenly sat down, right on the curb, and waves started crashing into him…morning sickness…weight gain…big boobs…irritability. Okay, the last one she always had, but the others, oh no. But she assured him that she had just had her period. He started racking his brain. He really couldn't recall her having a period since they were married, exactly two months ago. He apparated home, and then ran upstairs and was indeed sick. He was going to be the worse father in the history of fathers. He sat by the edge of the commode and then stood, walked to her desk, and looked at her date book. She always put a little 'p' on the date her period started. This was February 13th, so he looked at February, and he didn't see even one little 'p' on any of the days. He turned to January, again, no little 'p'. They got married the middle of December. Her last little 'p' was one week before they got married. NO, NO. NO! He threw her date book halfway across the room and with anger left their house. He wasn't angry because she was pregnant, but because she felt like she had to hide it from him.

Afternoon, at St. Mungos

Hermione and Ginny decided to try to see if they could get an appointed with a medi-witch or a healer that afternoon. Hermione was lucky, and they were able to see one that very day.

She went into the room without Ginny. She put a gown on, and sat there waiting for the medi-witch and she was worried. What would Malfoy think? They hadn't even discussed having children. She knew she wanted to have kids one day. She told him that when they first started dating, but that was the extent of their 'children talk'.

The healer came in and asked Hermione why she was there. She said she needed to find out if she was pregnant. The healer performed a simple spell, and then told Hermione she was indeed a little over eight weeks pregnant. Hermione wanted to cry. She didn't know if she wanted to cry out of fear, sadness, or joy.

The healer asked her if she had any questions. She said, "Where do I begin."

An hour and a half later, she exited the office. She had made her next appointment, and she walked up to Ginny, who was still waiting in the lobby for her. Hermione had a bunch of pamphlets and booklets in her hands.

"Well?" Ginny asked, "Am I going to be an aunt?"

"Yes, I guess you are," she said.

Ginny screamed in delight and hugged Hermione and then leaned down and said to Hermione's belly, "Hi, baby."

"Please, never do that again," Hermione said, trying to sound lighthearted, but meaning every word. Did people really 'talk' to your belly when you were pregnant? Hermione made a promise to herself; the first person to touch her belly without her permission would have a hex thrown at them so fast, their head would explode.

Hermione and Ginny went back to Ginny's flat. Thank goodness, Harry wasn't back. "Tell Harry not to tell anyone else, until I tell Draco. I think I'll wait until Valentine's Day to tell him," Hermione told her. She was perusing some of the pamphlets as she had tea with Ginny at the Potter's kitchen table.

Ginny picked up a few and said, "Gross" a couple of times.

"Look at this," Hermione showed Ginny one of the pamphlets, "Here's what I have to look forward to: tender, swollen breasts, already have those; Fatigue, hello, I'm 'Miss Tired' all the time; nausea and vomiting, happens every morning. Mood swings, constipation, hemorrhoids, how fun. Food cravings and food aversions, this one sounds nice, frequent urination, stretch marks, leg swelling, and the list goes on!" Hermione was officially freaking out, and she had only known about her pregnancy for one day!

"Ginny, I can't be pregnant. I haven't researched it enough. I don't like to go into something blind. I need to go to Diagon Alley again, and see what books they have at Flourish and Blotts, and then it wouldn't hurt to go to Muggle London, and get all the books they have there, as well," Hermione declared, standing up.

"Hermione, sit down," Ginny commanded, "There's plenty of time for that, just calm down, okay."

"You calm down when you get pregnant!" Hermione snapped.

Ginny said, "Mood swings, that's on the list as well."

Harry came walking in. He immediately saw all the pamphlets. "Merlin, Hermione, tell me it's not true."

She stood up and poked him hard in the chest. "Harry James Potter, I'm eight weeks pregnant and you will be nice to me, and to Draco, and accept this thing and love my baby as if it's your own, or I will never talk to you again!" She was practically shrilling.

There was no way he was going to tell her he already told Malfoy. Instead, he put his hands up, in case he needed to defend himself, but also to show that he surrendered, and said, "Of course, Hermione. I'll love any baby of yours, and I'll support you all that I can." He hugged her and looked at Ginny, who rolled her eyes.

"Go get me some parchment and a quill," Hermione ordered.

Harry went to the kitchen drawer to retrieve the items and said, "What are you going to do, write down baby names. I've always been partial to Harry for a boy." He laughed.

"Yuck," Hermione said, contemptibly. "No, I'm not so vapid that I want to 'write down baby names' Mr. Potter," she said sarcastically, although since he mentioned it, it did not seem like that bad of a thing to do, although she was not about to tell him that. She took the parchment from Harry and the quill and started writing, and the Potters left their kitchen and left her alone.

"Go get us some take out. We didn't end up eating any lunch, and I am starving," Ginny said.

"Should we ask Hermione what she wants?" Harry asked.

"If you value your life, I wouldn't, but you can if you want. I'm going to go read some of these pamphlets." Ginny raised her hand that contained some of the pregnancy booklets and headed toward the living room. "This might reinforce my convections that birth control is a very necessary thing," Ginny added, as Harry left to get take out. He thought he might stop off at a Muggle drug store as well. It couldn't hurt to be double safe.

In the kitchen, Hermione was making one of her famous 'pro/con' list. The list was title, "reasons Draco and Hermione should have children/shouldn't have children." She began writing feverishly, and didn't stop until Harry came back with the food. She had five things on the pro side and four on the con, but she knew that might change.

Evening, at home with the Malfoys

Hermione came into the house and looked for Draco. She walked into the dining room, and saw that the table was set for two. There were candles and what looked like wine chilling in a bucket by the table. She called for one of the house elves, and asked if they knew were Master Malfoy was. The house elf told Hermione that he was upstairs, lying down, with a headache. The little elf asked Hermione is they still wanted dinner. Hermione conceded that she really didn't know, and she turned and left the room.

She ran up the stairs, and found him in their bedroom, in the dark, with his right arm over his eyes.

"Draco, what's wrong?" Hermione sat next to him on the bed, and put her hand on his chest.

"I have a headache. I thought we could celebrate Valentine's Day one day early, but I think I need to just rest." He turned to his side, with his back toward her.

"Do you need a headache potion?" she asked.

"I've taken one," he said.

"I'll leave you alone." She started to get up to leave, but he took a hold of her hand, and made her stay. He pulled on her arm, and she understood. She lay next to him, spooning up against his back. Hermione put her arm over his body and rubbed his arm up and down with her hand.

"How was your shopping?" he asked, still not facing her.

"I didn't go shopping," she said truthfully, "I had lunch with Ginny, and then she and I had an errand to run."

He held her hand now in his and said, "Where did you go?"

He felt her body stiffen. She tried to sit up, but he held her down. He turned around to face her. They both lay on their sides, him on his right side, and her on her left side. He stroked her cheek, and she tenderly caressed his hair. "Where did you go?" he asked again.

"I went to see a healer, you know, about my stomach problems," she said.

"What was the prognosis?" he asked, afraid of what she was going to say.

"I think in this instant, you mean 'diagnosis," she corrected.

"Okay, what was the diagnosis?" he amended.

"Draco?" she asked.

"Yes?" he said.

"I don't know how to say this. It's not good news. It's kind of bad news," she said.

He abruptly sat up. Someone help him. He just thought she was going to tell him she was pregnant, but apparently, there was something seriously wrong with her. Suddenly, he was terrified for her. Whatever it was, they would get through it together. He stood up and said, "Tell me, tell me right now, what's wrong?"

She stood as well. "Draco, I'm two months pregnant," she said hesitantly.

"WHAT!" he exclaimed. He was expecting that. That he could handle. Why did she have to scare him? "MY goodness, Hermione!" he yelled, "I already knew that." He was walking back and forth in front of her. "Stupid Scarhead already told me. I thought you were going to tell me you had some incurable disease or something. Why did you say it was bad news?" He was still pacing, but then it dawned on him, why did she say it was bad news? "Hey, wait a minute; don't you want to have my baby?" he asked, finally sitting down.

"I haven't given it a lot of thought before. I don't really think its bad news, but I figured you might," she said, sitting by him, and then something occurred to her as well. "Hey, you said Harry already told you? That arse-hole. Is that why you have a headache? Do you think its bad news?" Now she was scared.

"I haven't given it much thought either, Granger. Let's face it; we have not ever discussed this before." Drano was standing again.

She stood and said, "And neither have we ever done anything to prevent it." She pointed out.

"True." He was in shock.

"Yes, true." She was as well.

"Happy Valentine's Day, I guess," he said.

"You could have just gotten me roses," she joked.

"I thought this would last longer than flowers," he joked back.

"Yes, the gift that keeps on giving," she said back.

"If the child is a Malfoy, the saying should be the gift that keeps on taking," he said with a smile. She smiled back. She sighed and put her head on his shoulder. He put his arms around her waist.

"I did a pro/con list," she said, "Do you want to see it?"

"Are you telling me the truth?" he asked surprised.

"Yes," she laughed, pulling a piece of parchment out of her pants pocket. It said, "Reasons Draco and Hermione should have children/shouldn't have children." Hermione said, "Keep in mind, I had a lot on my mind, so the list isn't very big yet. Plus, I had trouble concentrating, which is one of the many wonderful symptoms I have to look forward to, or so I have read."

He read the top of the piece of parchment, laughed, and said, "You had me worried for a second. I thought maybe the title would be, 'reasons why we shouldn't get pregnant' or something."

"It's a little too late for that, since I'm already pregnant," she responded. "Although we could make another list titled 'reasons Draco Malfoy should never ever reproduce' or maybe one that says, 'reasons we should castrate Draco Malfoy'."

"We can do those ones later. Let me have a look," he said. He took her list and read aloud.

Reasons Draco and Hermione should have children/shouldn't have children:


The children will probably be good looking (Draco)

The children are bound to be smart (Hermione)

The children will be loved (Draco and Hermione)

The children will have lots of opportunities (Draco's money)

The children will have magical ability (That's a given)


The children might have bushy/curly hair (Hermione)

The children will be spoiled (Draco's money)

The children might not be smart (Sorry Draco)

The children will be half bloods & might be subjected to bigots (Both of us)

He laughed aloud at most of her entries. He said, "First, it's funny you think so highly of me. You apparently think I'm beautiful, but dumb. I'm going to enlarge this list, and we're going to post it on the bathroom door, and every time we think of another reason, we'll add to it, okay?" He went to the bathroom door, took his wand, and did just that.

"What if we end up with more cons than pros?" she asked.

"Then we will just not let the baby come out, no matter what," Draco said without a trace of humour, "and if it still tries, we will just push it back in."

She was too tired to laugh at his stupid jokes.

"Do you still want to go downstairs and eat? Your table looked nice," Hermione admitted to him. "Although, I can't have any wine."

"It wasn't wine, it was pumpkin juice, and frankly, I really just want to have sex with my wife," he said, "I mean, that's still okay, having sex, isn't it?"

"Of course, and we better take advantage of it now, because some of the things I read about today, well, lets just say, we have some fun times coming up, Malfoy. I'm not sure I will want to have sex later, and you might not be that enthused either," she grimaced, "I bought nineteen new books on the subject, if you want to take a look at one of them sometime. They are being delivered tomorrow."

He laughed. He did not laugh because he thought she was joking about buying nineteen books on the subject. He laughed because he knew she was telling the truth about it.

"Come on, Granger, let's have sex," he said, kissing her neck. "Have you seen the size of your breasts lately? Wow, is all I can say." He kissed her sweetly, and led her to the bed.

(End of Day one)