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Chapter 1 – She's Late, She's Late, for a Very Important Date

Checking her watch one last time, though she knew it was futile, Hermione Granger cursed herself as she ran to the Floo. She was late. Painfully, terribly, irrevocably, irrefutably, without a doubt late.

And it was no one's fault but her own. More so, she was late in every conceivable meaning of the word!

She didn't even have time to change her blouse, nor the presence of mind to clean it with magic! This morning, while eating her toast and tea, she felt nauseated, and while rushing to the loo, she knocked the strawberry jam over on her blouse. Too occupied with 'tossing her crumpets' to care about the red stain, it was only when she DID notice it that she also noticed the time on the clock over her mantel.

Therefore, she rushed to her Floo, opened the entrance, threw in the powder, announced her destination, and in a flash was standing in the busy hallway outside a Healer's office at St. Mungo's.

Steeling her shoulders back, reminding herself of her Gryffindor Pride, she walked over the threshold, up to the Mediwitch at the desk and announced, "Hello, my name is Hermione Granger, I'm here to see Healer Greenway, and I'm late."

Two hours later, she sat alone at a booth in a coffee shop in Diagon Alley, her hands holding a now cold cup of coffee, and for the first time in her entire life, Hermione didn't know what she was going to do. She was pregnant.

She had an important meeting with a client that started twenty minutes ago, but she didn't care one iota. She was twenty-nine years old, with her own highly, successful business, and she was happily dating a wonderful man (even if it was for only three weeks, he was still wonderful) for the first time since separating from her boyfriend of five years last March, and she hardly gave a whit.

Because in case no one knew, and in case no one cared, she was late. Terribly, terribly late.

Translation – her life was finally going great, on track, going as planned and now she was exactly six weeks pregnant, and the father was someone she had only dated once, and out of character, slept with once…and now…this!

She was in a terrible pickle, to put it mildly. When she was little, she used to play up the littlest things. She was always a very dramatic child, making 'mountains out of molehills' or in the words of her father, creating 'a storm in a teacup'. She wondered what her father would think now. Would he consider this a problem, or was she blowing everything out of proportion?

Perhaps this wasn't the end of the world.

Just because she was pregnant didn't mean her life had to end! Her new boyfriend might relish the idea of her getting big and fat. He might find swollen ankles attractive. Vomiting had its charms, didn't it? He might like the thought of marrying her someday, and raising another man's child. And just because her business was in the magical world, (which still frowned upon unconventional things such as single motherhood) didn't mean that the business that she had started from the ground up would come tumbling down around her.

And just because she was now over an hour late for the biggest appointment of her career didn't mean that she was doomed.

Nevertheless, it did.

She stood from the booth, went outside, and felt a big fat raindrop fall right on her nose. She looked up at the heavens and said, "Really? You have to rain right now! Really? A storm in a teacup wasn't enough, but you had to give me a real storm now?"

"Talking to yourself?" someone said from behind her. She spun around quickly and looked upon the amused face of Draco Malfoy. He stood under a large black umbrella, and he quickly looked at his watch. "You were late for our meeting. I waited for you at your office, and when you didn't come, I left to find you, and where do I find you, but leaving a bar, obviously drunk and deranged. That's no way to run a business, Granger. Shame on you."

Hermione cocked her head to the side. Another raindrop hit her on the cheek, slid down her jaw, and landed on her blouse next to her 'red strawberry' stain. He quickly stepped closer, placing her under the umbrella with him, and said, "You have a red stain on your blouse."

Ignoring his comment concerning her blouse, she pushed him away so that he wasn't so close to her, and stepped under the awning of the coffee shop before she spoke. "This isn't a bar, you ninny, it's a coffee shop. See the large cup of coffee on the window, with the words 'Coffee Shop' written underneath? Besides, I'm not pissed, and many people talk to themselves!"

"Deranged people," Draco interjected.

"No, perfectly normal people," she argued.

He closed the umbrella, leaned his shoulder against the wall, placing him under the awning as well, (and too close to her, in her opinion). "I have news for you, Miss Granger. Perfectly normal people don't talk to themselves. They don't stand around in the rain. They don't keep important clients waiting while they go have drinks in a pub. They don't have blood all over their blouses." He reached out and touched her shirt with his index finger, right over her left breast. She swatted his hand away. He continued, "And they keep their appointments."

"I've had a bad day," she explained, "and this is strawberry marmalade."

He reached out and touched her shirt again, and then brought his finger up to his mouth. "It tastes like blood," he said with a smirk.

"You're sick," she sneered with a frown.

"And you're still deranged." He opened his umbrella and said, "Walk with me, you crazy woman." He didn't give her room to broker a reply. He merely began to walk, and she had to follow if she wanted to listen. Oh, and he had her arm in his hand.

She ran under his umbrella, practically running to keep up with his long strides. "This is your lucky day, Granger," he announced.

"Ha!" she barked. "That's what you know."

He glanced at her sideways, but kept walking, until they reached the curb. He stopped, dropped her arm for a moment to place it slightly in front of her, which she found incredibly charming and chivalrous. The thought of him being either made her want to vomit again, (Well, that and being slightly preggers). She looked up at his face just as he once again reached for her arm, pulling her across the street with him.

Feeling slightly confused and ill at ease with the way he was practically 'manhandling' her, she still followed. He was leading her back to her business: The Granger School for the Gifted.

Leading her up to her office, he told her assistant, "Hold all her appointments and Owls, Peggy," and then he walked into her office as if he owned the placed.

Hermione remained in the opened doorway, standing in the outer office, and she said, "Malfoy, her name isn't Peggy."

"Are you certain?" He turned to face Hermione.

"I've known her for fourteen months," Hermione leveled. "I think I know her name."

Draco pushed Hermione out of the doorway, leaned out and said, "Is your name Peggy?"

"No, Mr. Malfoy. I told you my name when you arrived. It's Marcia," the young woman said, smiling, looking perfectly happy for the man to call her anything that he wished.

"Hmm, Marcia? Are you sure? I could have sworn it was Peggy. You look like a Peggy." He smiled at the young witch and winked at her, his hands on the doorframe, his body leaning outside the door. Hermione rolled her eyes and pushed him the rest of the way back into her office.

She said, "You're scum, Malfoy."

"Because I take the trouble of learning your employees' names?" he asked, innocently.

"HER NAME IS MARCIA!" Hermione said, stomping her foot. Suddenly, Hermione realized they were not alone in the office. She saw a dark-haired young girl of about fourteen sitting in a chair in the corner, with an equally dark-haired young boy of about ten standing beside her.

She walked over to them and said, "Oh, hello. I'm sorry, I didn't see you there. What may I do for you?"

Draco pulled on her sleeve again. This time, he was gentler, as if he was unsure if she would follow. Hermione looked at the hand on her arm, then up into Draco Malfoy's silver eyes. He cocked his head to the side and said, "Over here for a moment, Granger."

She walked to the corner of her office with Draco. In low, quiet tones he said, "They were the reason for your appointment with me today, and the reason I led you back here. I didn't know if you could get back here yourself, in your drunken state, that is."

Hermione took a long breath in through her nose, and exhaled it out her mouth. It was a steadfast policy of hers not to hit adults in the presence of children. She clenched her hands at her sides and said, "Continue."

He smiled. He could see that he had raised her hackles. She was really lovely when she was angry, strawberry marmalade, raindrops, and all. "I've seen that look before, and from you. You really want to hit me right now, don't you?" he whispered, leaning closer to her.

She whispered back, "Almost more than anything, but I'll wait until you tell me who the children are first."

He averted his face, smiled, but not for her to see. He leaned away, calmed his features, and said, "The meaning for our meeting today was for us to talk about a large endowment for your school, remember?"

"Yes, I recall, and I truly am sorry I was late, and I swear, I want to reschedule," she said, her face softening. She walked around to her desk and sat down. He sat on the corner of her desk, facing her, with his back toward the children. "What does one thing have to do with the other? Who are the children?"

Pointedly avoiding her question, he snapped, "No, no rescheduling."

She sighed, openly, loudly, and long, before adding, "Then why are you still here, and why are these children here? Answer me now. Who are they? What do they have to do with our missed meeting?"

He shook his head and said, "Granger, there's no rescheduling our meeting because the endowment is yours. I'll offer the grant to your school, fund it entirely for the next five years, no questions asked, in fact, I have the cheque right here in my pocket."

She glared at him, raised a finger, said, "One moment, Malfoy," and then moved to look around him. She said, "Children, I'm sorry we weren't introduced, and I'll take care of that later, but do you mind going out in the hall for a bit?"

Draco turned toward them and said, "Yes, go see if you can help Peggy do some filing or something. She doesn't seem that bright to me."

The girl stood up from her chair and took the boy's hand and they quietly left the office, closing the door behind them.

Hermione stood, her thigh touching Malfoy's knee as he sat on the edge of her desk. With her sternest 'teacher's face' she pointed her finger at him again and said, "Now, explain yourself! Why are you suddenly willing to give me millions of galleons for no apparent reason, and who in the world are those children?"

He smiled, a closed mouth, almost evil, smile. "There's a good reason why I'm willing to give you that money. It won't be for nothing. Those children are Marie and Jeffrey Ellington. They're Muggle-borns who have never been exposed to magic in any sense. Marie should have gone to Hogwarts two years ago, but her mother wouldn't let her. Jeff's of an age that he should be going this coming fall. They need taught, Granger. That's where you come in."

"Um, that's not what my school does, Malfoy," she said lightly, her tone softer. She looked back to the now empty chairs and felt a pang of remorse for the children who left them. "I feel badly for them, but this school is for magically gifted children."

He stood up and looked her up and down and said, "Yes, but you're a teacher."

"Well, yes…"

"So teach them!" he hissed. "They don't know anything about magic! Everything is foreign to them. I can't send them to Hogwarts in the fall, being at such a disadvantage! It would be grossly unfair to them, and cruel."

She struggled for the right words as she sat back in her seat. "Malfoy, the thing is, I don't have the classes that would be right for them here, either. They would be even more out of place here than at Hogwarts. Besides, the summer holidays are about to begin, and we only have minimum classes during the summer months."

"Listen, you have a great staff here, right?" he asked.

"The best," she answered, unabashed. He smiled again. "Oh, I see. You want me to find them a tutor, is that it? Someone to prepare them for school? They would have to take their studying at home, because I don't have the space here for them, at least, not in the beginning, but I might be able to work something out."

She stood and walked over to a file cabinet in the corner of the room. "Let me look at my employee files. As I said, it's the start of the summer term so we only have limited classes. I'm sure I can find someone."

She immediately felt him standing behind her. His body radiated such warmth that she felt it instantly, even before she heard him or felt his breath upon the back of her neck. He was all together too close, too warm, and too everything. She felt discombobulated and slightly off-kilter by his nearness. Either that, or her morning sickness was rearing its ugly head in the middle of the afternoon.

Trying hard not to notice the large, good smelling man behind her, she couldn't ignore him as he reached his hand beside hers and closed the file cabinet. "No," he said, emphatically, still standing behind her.

She turned to face him as he placed each arm beside her body, caging her in like an animal. "No? No what?"

He couldn't remember her being this small, but then again, no one 'grew' smaller, did they? It must be that he was taller than the last time they had been this close to each other. She was well proportioned, that was certain. She smelled good, strawberry marmalade and all. Her hair was still unruly, but that added to her charm, as did her slight pout, which she displayed whenever she seemed bemused, upset, or angry, which was 99 percent of the time.

He announced, "No, it has to be you. I want you to teach them."

"Why me?"

"Don't make me say it," he pleaded, pushing away from the file cabinet.

"Seriously, why me?" she asked again.

He swallowed, and looked suddenly as if he tasted something foul and she laughed. "Oh, because I'm the best, and you don't want to admit that, right?"

"I hated that you did better than me in school," he winced. "But yes, you're the best."

"Malfoy, now's not a good time for me. I've got…issues, but I'll find someone good for them, I swear."

"No, it has to be you," he said, "or no endowment for your school."

"That's blackmail!" she harped.

He brought his hands up in the air and laughed. "See how smart you are! You recognized blackmail right away!"

"What's the relationship between you and the children, anyway?" she asked, stepping away from the file cabinet. Draco stepped toward the middle of the room and shrugged, then said something softly under his breath. She leaned forward to listen, but didn't hear. "What? I didn't hear you."

"They're mine," he said louder, his arms folding in front of him. "Now, will you do it not?"

Chapter End Notes:

hmmm….how could Malfoy, who couldn't be much older than 28 or so in this story, have a Muggle-born daughter around 13 years old? Also, don't you wonder who Hermione's boyfriend is, and who the father of her child is? So many possibilities. These and other questions will be answered in the next installment of…."A Storm in a Teacup."

Oh…and the story "Photographs and Memories" is on hiatus, because I'm not in the mood for an emotional story right now. The last few chapters of "The First Stone" will be sent to my beta soon, and is completely done. I have the first chapter of the second installment of "The Seven Deadly Death Eaters" done, starring Snape. It's somewhat different.