Author's Note: I adore you all for leaving such kind reviews. Your words are inspiring! Thanks for reading. I'm nervous about this chapter... I wrote this months ago, not long after I started the story; I've been editing it ever since. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy it.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from these stories.

Chapter Nineteen – Startling Revelations

"I've already received seventy owls back accepting invitations to the ball," Narcissa Malfoy said smugly.

Hermione looked up from her book and gave her a forced smile, but Narcissa continued to stare at her pointedly. "That's, erm, lovely. Really wonderful."

Narcissa smiled complacently, settled back into the divan, and returned to flipping through a heavy volume bearing Twilfitt and Tatting's intertwined golden Ts. The blonde witch had been there less than an hour, but already Hermione felt her brain beginning to atrophy. "It really was a charming dinner, wasn't it?"

"The most charming," Hermione answered for the hundredth time. "Really wonderful." She was grateful, of course, for Narcissa's presence rather than Bellatrix's – that was a truly horrible thought to consider – but the afternoon had been spent discussing ever infinitesimal detail of who had worn what and they had spent the better part of fifteen minutes discussing the watercress soup that had been served.

"Amycus was in fine form, pawing at Daphne Greengrass like that. And Alecto!" Narcissa shuddered. "I don't care if they are both Carrows – they have such horrid manners."

"Alecto seemed quite fond of Severus," Hermione said idly as she flipped through her book. She had found a dusty tome on Wizarding genealogy in the library that went back nearly four hundred years and had been trying to find which of the ancient pureblood families Severus was related to through his Prince ancestors.

Narcissa smiled conspiratorially. "Oh, Alecto has been enamored with Severus since she was in school. He was her Head of House; she's been trying to snag him ever since. You should have seen the way she through herself at him at the victory celebrations. It was absolutely immoral." She raised an eyebrow at Hermione. "Your husband is quite a catch, you know. I thought Daisy Parkinson was going to turn her wand on herself when she heard he was to marry you."

"Astoria mentioned something about that at tea."

"Ivy's been throwing her eldest daughter in his path since the day she finished her N.E.W.T.s. Severus said once he would rather marry a three-headed dog. The dog would be three times as intelligent as Daisy."

Hermione smirked. Perhaps Severus has a better sense of humor than I thought.

After a moment, Narcissa's smile faded. "I fear Pansy's attachment to Draco is far too strong. Even Bellatrix mentioned how frequent their glances were last night and she's not one to pick up on the subtleties of romance."

It seemed pointless to deny such an obvious fact, but Hermione did not add that she too had noticed Pansy and Draco's amorous looks across the table. "Astoria is a sweet girl," Hermione said after a long pause. "I promised to invite her to tea soon. Perhaps Monday? Draco could join us, as well."

"I think that's a splendid idea! Astoria will be thrilled to be the first to receive a formal invitation to tea from you. They're all clamoring to see the house."

Hermione crossed to the small writing desk in the corner and removed parchment and a quill. "That reminds me," she said as she penned an invitation to tea, "Severus agreed to host the Governors Ball here."

Narcissa's enthusiastic reply was interrupted by Norris appearing at the door. "Forgive me, madam," he said with a low bow, "but a caller has arrived. A Madam Dolores Umbridge is very insistent she speak with you."

Hermione had not seen Dolores Umbridge since her ill-fated journey into the Ministry of Magic last year to retrieve Slytherin's locket. She loathed the toad-like woman with nearly as much fervor as she hated Voldemort. Dolores Umbridge was tyrannical and calculating; her presence was very troubling.

"I despise that woman," Narcissa said with an uncharacteristic sound of disgust. "She has ideas far above her station."

"Why is she here?" Hermione asked shrilly. She thought for a moment that perhaps Voldemort had changed his mind and Umbridge was being sent here to imprison her, or worse.

Narcissa rolled her eyes. "No doubt she is eager to ingratiate herself to you now that she's been demoted."

Hermione took a deep breath and tried to gather her composure. "Bring her in, please Norris, and owl this to Greengrass Gardens," she said as she handed him the folded letter.

"Right away, madam."

Hermione stood and smoothed the wrinkles from her skirt, suddenly overwhelmed with fear. If Umbridge attacked her here, in her own home, would she be able to defend herself? Would Narcissa Malfoy come to her aid? She grasped the silver bracelet that now housed her wand for reassurance.

Dolores Umbridge had changed little over the last year; she had retained her heavy figure and gaudy pink bow, though her hair was considerably greyer than it had been at their last encounter. She gave Hermione her most saccharine smile as she entered. "Madam Snape!" Her voice was still breathless and unnaturally girlish for a woman of her age. "How lovely to see you again."

Hermione doubted that very much, but she stood and returned the woman's fake smile nevertheless. "Madam Umbridge. How kind of you to come. Please, have a seat."

"Oh, Madam Malfoy!" Umbridge exclaimed as she noticed Narcissa's cool presence. "What a pleasant to surprise to see two such fine ladies."

"Madam Umbridge," Narcissa replied coolly as Umbridge settled into a chair near her.

Hermione and Umbridge stared at each other expectantly for a long moment; behind the simpering smile, Hermione could detect the burning hatred Umbridge possessed for her – probably due, at least partially, to Hermione luring her into the Forbidden Forest once.

"I was so pleased to read of your marriage in the Daily Prophet, Madam Snape. Severus and I become so close during my time at Hogwarts."

"Erm, yes, of course," Hermione said tightly.

Narcissa covered her laugh with a cough; Umbridge turned her beady eyes toward the witch. "And you cannot imagine how thrilled I was, Madam Malfoy, to learn of your husband's appointment."

"You are so kind, Madam Umbridge," Narcissa said icily. "I understand you have a new position within the Ministry?"

Umbridge puffed considerably. "That's exactly what I hoped to speak with Madam Snape about today. Perhaps over tea?"

Narcissa's look of annoyance at Umbridge's presence turned deadly; irritation rolled off of her in waves. "Madam Snape and I were just about to take a turn around the gardens, actually." Both witches turned to stare pointedly at Hermione.

"Oh! Of course, tea would be fine," said Hermione hastily. "Would you care to stay for tea, Madam Umbridge?"

Norris was quickly summoned and within a few minutes they were seated in the Glass Garden, table laden with teacakes and biscuits.

"I was so pleased to read of your marriage," Umbridge repeated as she helped herself to her fourth chocolate biscuit in as many minutes. "It's so rare that one finds young women willing to take on the responsibility of matrimony."

As if she doesn't know the circumstances surrounding my situation, Hermione thought insolently as sipped her tea.

Umbridge swept crumbs from her ostentatious pink suit as she continued. "It is so crucial that our ancient heritage be preserved and passed on to new generations. Without the devotion of witches like yourselves, our people are in danger of extinction."

"How lucky we are, then, that your new office will address those concerns."

"I quite agree, Madam Malfoy. Though the war may be over, the battle is only truly beginning. This battle, however, depends on the resolve and determination of our people." Umbridge sat down her teacup and clasped her hands together eagerly. "As Head of the Department of Marriage and Family Affairs, my primary goal is to bolster family values within our country. We need more fine witches, such as you, to return us a mindset of selflessness and courage."

Hermione frowned. "I'm not entirely sure what you mean."

Umbridge smiled sympathetically. "A return to the home, my dear! The Ministry is inundated with young witches eschewing families altogether in favor of careers. It is a travesty! I came to speak to you today, Madam Snape, in the hopes that you would agree to help your country and your Ministry in promoting family values and the proper places of witches in our society."

Hermione's hand twitched toward the wand concealed in her bracelet. I can think of a few things I'd like to teach her about the 'proper' place of witches in society...

"I'm sure you'd want to speak with your husband about all this, of course," Umbridge continued as she refilled her teacup. "But I've spoken with Rita Skeeter – such a fine writer, I always enjoy her articles – and she's agreed to do a feature story in Witch Weekly on you and your 'domestic bliss', Madam Snape," she said with a little giggle.

The thought of Dolores Umbridge and Rita Skeeter discussing her made Hermione's skin crawl. "I'm not sure that would be –"

"And I very much hope you'll both join the organization I am founding," Umbridge interrupted. "The National Women's Society. An organization devoted to promoting family values and showing our world that the new modern witch is the bearer of Wizarding culture and moral standards for our people."

Hermione furrowed her brow. "The modern witch?"

Umbridge smiled at her condescendingly. "The modern witch is one who has achieved health, self-discipline, courage, grace, and loyalty; a witch not unlike yourself, Madam Snape. And you, Madam Malfoy."

"An honorable endeavor, I'm sure," Narcissa said with a smile that looked as if she smelt something terribly rotten.

"Nothing official can happen until after Minister Nott is installed, of course – he's to be the Minister of the Interior, you know."

Narcissa bristled visibly. "Yes, Madam Snape and I are very well informed."

Umbridge smiled condescendingly at Narcissa, as if she very much doubted her.

"Erm, more biscuits, Madam Umbridge?"

"Thank you. Now, as I was saying, I do hope you'll both join my little organization. It's truly up to fine witches like you to set a good example for impressionable young girls."

Narcissa poured another cup of tea. "We will both do whatever is necessary to further the Dark Lord's cause. We are, after all, his faithful servants." Umbridge set her mouth into a thin line, clearly disliking the reminder that she was not one of the Dark Lord's inner circle. "You've served under several Ministers, have you not, Madam Umbridge?"

The simpering smile disappeared. "Yes, many Ministers have come and gone, but I have remained," Umbridge snapped, loosing her girlish composure. She seemed to catch herself, as the saccharine smile spread across her face once more. "Hem, hem," said Umbridge; using the grating throat-clearing cough Hermione had heard so many times. "I do fear I've kept you from your turn about the gardens long enough, my dears. Health is such a crucial aspect of the modern witch; I'm so glad to see you both committed to the same ideals our department shares." She stood and brushed biscuit crumbs daintily from her large bosom. "Thank you so much for tea, Madam Snape. I know we're going to be such good friends. Good day, Madam Malfoy." With one last condescending look at Narcissa, Umbridge turned on her pink heel and marched from the room.

"She is unbearable," Narcissa announced once the front door was shut firmly behind Dolores Umbridge's large backside. "All vinegar and vitriol. She's just bitter that Lucius has replaced her."

"At least she's gone," Hermione said with a sigh of relief. "Honestly, what nonsense. The 'proper place' of witches, indeed."

Narcissa looked at her strangely. "How much has Severus told you, Hermione?"

"About what?" she asked with a frown.

There was a long pause. "Marius Nott is… very traditional. He and the Dark Lord have very little regard for witches. Dolores Umbridge may be obnoxious, but her words have come straight from Marius."

"Surely they don't expect all witches to marry and leave the workforce?" Hermione asked incredulously. "That's impractical."

Narcissa shrugged. "The Dark Lord is concerned with bolstering the Wizarding population. How else do you expect to achieve that?"

"But Narcissa! You would have them all lose their independence?"

Her pale eyes flashed dangerously. "This is the ambition of powerful wizards," she said carefully, parroting Hermione's words to Voldemort the night before.

A month spent with Narcissa had taught Hermione to recognize the warning in her tone. "Perhaps we should take that walk now?"

Narcissa's gaze softened. "A fine idea."

Saturday passed quickly after Umbridge's visit. To Hermione's surprise, Narcissa had willingly accompanied her to the small stone church Sunday morning with little more than a sigh of boredom as they listened to Gerald Highland's long-winded sermon.

"There hasn't been a ball here since Severus' grandmother was alive," Narcissa said dreamily as they strolled through the wooded path from the church to Prince Park. "Margaret Prince was not a woman to be trifled with, but she was a formidable hostess."

"Did you know Severus' mother?" Hermione asked suddenly.

Narcissa pursed her lips. "No; Eileen was estranged from her family by the time I was born. She and my mother were at school together, though."

"Has Severus ever spoken about her?"

"Severus has never been particularly loquacious."

"He is quite an enigma," Hermione agreed with a slight smile.

"Perhaps, but he seems to have adjusted to matrimony rather better than expected." The blonde witch eyed her expectantly.

"Erm, yes, I suppose we both have," Hermione blushed.

"Oh, come now, Hermione," Narcissa said conspiratorially as she linked her arm's through Hermione's. "I've been alone with you nearly an entire day and you've been shockingly tight-lipped about the more sordid details of your marriage." She laughed lightly at Hermione's crimson cheeks. "Or maybe sordid isn't the right word. Lascivious, perhaps? Intimate? As bright as you are, surely you understand my meaning."

"Surely this is an inappropriate subject," Hermione said hastily, her face uncomfortably warm.

Narcissa gave a dramatic sigh. "I only ask, dear girl, because with young brides that particular… aspect of marriage can be the most troubling. When I was a girl, my mother taught me to smile at a man in a way that was both chaste and suggestive… to speak in clever turns of phrase to catch his interest. I learned how to tilt my fan just so," she said with a slight flick of her hand, "to draw a man's eye to the delicate curve of my neck. But never, in all our days together, did my mother ever mention what on earth I was to do with a man once I was married to him. That all came as a rather dreadful surprise."

"I-I never considered that, Narcissa," Hermione stuttered. She felt childish for never considering Narcissa's attempts to start a dialogue on more sensitive matters might stem from a place of genuine concern. "I apologize. I should have been more forthcoming with you. Things are… progressing satisfactorily," she continued, trying to choose her words carefully. "Severus is very… thorough."

It was strange to see Narcissa Malfoy - pureblood ice-queen and Lucius Malfoy's dutiful wife -dissolve into such raucous peals of laughter that tears filled her grey eyes. Strange, but somehow endearing, as Hermione found herself laughing as well.

"Thorough," Narcissa repeated once her laughter abated. "How very envious Daisy Parkinson will be to learn that."

After lunch, Narcissa excused herself to go rest; "Sermons always leave me rather drained," she had said with a slight shudder. Hermione was ecstatic at the prospect of doing a bit of light reading without Narcissa's constant commentary on who had yet to accept her invitation to the masquerade.

En route to the library, Hermione was halted by a prim voice. "Madam Snape? Madam Snape. Over here, please." Hermione looked around, startled by the voice. After a moment, she noticed the portrait of a thin, elderly witch beckoning to her. The lady was not very beautiful, but she had a cold sort of refinement that made her rather captivating. She wore an elaborately beaded gown and her raven hair was swept up into an elegant twist. The witch smiled stiffly as Hermione approached. "Hello, Madam Snape. My name is Margaret Prince. I am Severus' grandmother."

"Oh! Hello. It's nice to meet you, Madam Prince," Hermione replied kindly. "Norris and Mitzi told me you hosted tea in the Glass Garden when you lived here. It really is the loveliest room for tea."

Madam Prince had dark, almost black eyes. Just like Severus, Hermione mused. The eyes looked at her curiously now, examining her features carefully. "Thank you dear," she said finally. "I trust you have settled in quite comfortably? Prince Park is the loveliest home. I do hope you will enjoy it as much as I did."

"I adore the house," Hermione replied earnestly. "It's magnificent."

"Mmm, I quite agree dear child. Would you mind if we adjourned our conversation to a more… intimate location?" she asked, glancing towards the surrounding portraits from the corner of her eye.

"Of course. There is a landscape in my, erm, your former bedroom… Would that be appropriate?"

"Thank you, that will be suitable. I shall meet you there shortly." Madam Prince stalked away from her portrait, much to the chagrin of her neighbors.

Hermione made her way up the stairs, considering what Madam Prince could possibly need to speak with her about privately. Is she angry that I'm a Muggle-born? She seems nice enough, but she never spoke to Severus' mother again after she ran off with a Muggle…

Madam Prince had taken up residence in a landscape portrait near Hermione's dressing table. Hermione approached her hesitantly. "What did you wish to speak to me about, madam?"

"To be perfectly honest, Madam Snape, I was not thrilled when Hadrian told me that Severus had decided to marry a Muggle-born witch." Here it comes, Hermione thought: More pureblood prejudice. "However, after watching you over the last few days, I have finally decided that you are a lady worthy of such a grand estate. I am… ashamed that my own prejudice has prevented me from welcoming you properly prior to this."

"Oh! Thank you," Hermione replied uncomfortably. I wonder what convinced her?

Madam Prince eyed the room sadly. "This is such a lovely room for a bride. It still looks just as it did when I came here as a bride in 1915," she said, her voice full of nostalgia. I still remember how frightened I was of my mother-in-law then; the Widow Prince was quite a witch, I assure you. She was very welcoming to me, however. I do regret that there was no Prince lady to welcome you into the home as a bride. It is most unfortunate."

Hermione smiled up at her kindly. "It's quite all right, Madam Prince. The house-elves were most thorough with their tour."

"Oh yes, I suppose they were. And you have the Prince Pendant, I presume?"

Hermione picked the pendant up and stepped closer so she could see. "Yes, it's very beautiful. I did some reading on protection amulets; such an interesting piece of magic," she said thoughtfully.

Madam Prince stared at the pendant fondly. "It suits you," she said gently. "I was so honored to wear it as a young bride. Tell me, what did you learn about the pendant through your research?"

"Not terribly much, I'm afraid. The book said that it would protect the wearer from harm and kill anyone who attempted to take the amulet by force. It also said that the pendant would glow any time it is imbibed with new strength or magic. I wasn't quite sure what that meant."

Madam Prince smiled knowingly. "That's why I wanted to speak with you privately, dear. The pendant will burn when a magical child is conceived," she said conspiratorially.

"Oh." Hermione stared at the portrait for a moment, blinking repeatedly. Then the floor rushed up to meet her and the world went dark.

"Madam Snape! Madam Snape!" Bitzi's voice was calling to her frantically, but Hermione was hesitant to wake up. There was something, some thought, lingering on the edge of her consciousness. To wake up would mean bringing the thought back into focus; though she did not know what the thought was, she knew there was something she did not want to remember just yet.

Mitzi's voice was speaking now. "Send Walby to fetch a Healer, Bitzi! And fetch Madam Malfoy! Quickly!"

Hermione opened her eyes groggily. Mitzi, Bitzi, Iyra, Meyer, and Norris were watching her with wide, worried eyes. When they saw her eyes open, Meyer and Norris hurried forward. Their tiny hands helped her to sit up. "We will fetch a Healer right away, Madam Snape!" Norris' voice was frantic.

She shook her head. "No, thank you Norris, but that will not be necessary. Please don't bother Madam Malfoy. I-I was just… overwhelmed. I will be fine."

Norris nodded worriedly. "Perhaps some tea then, Madam Snape?" Mitzi asked hopefully.

"That would be lovely, thank you," said Hermione meekly. "Would you mind terribly giving me just a moment? I need to collect myself. If you would leave a tea tray in the library, I'll be down shortly." The elves nodded and popped out of view.

Looking up, Hermione found Madam Prince staring at her anxiously from her portrait; her heavy brows were furrowed in concern. "I'm afraid I gave you quite a shock, poor child," she said once they were alone. "That was not my intention, I assure you. I assumed you had been… intimate with your husband, but I fear now that I assumed too much. Forgive me," she said uneasily as she wrung her hands together.

Pulling herself to her feet, Hermione walked closer to the portrait and sat down at the chair in front of her dressing table. "It burned," she muttered.

Madam Prince's eyebrows shot up. "It did? When?" she asked incredulously.

"Last Friday night," Hermione answered. She felt the heat rise in her cheeks until she was blushing furiously. "We… I…" She stopped, unable to put her thoughts into words.

"Oh my. I do apologize. I should have welcomed you when you arrived and warned you," Madam Prince said regretfully.

"So this means I…" Hermione could not say it out loud. Sweet Merlin. It's not possible.

Madam Prince smiled genuinely for the first time. "It means a magical child was conceived, yes. Congratulations, Madam Snape."

Hermione was unable to speak. Oh gods. I'm pregnant. In spite of her acceptance of this reality and the conversations she and Severus had regarding this very topic, it still seemed like some distant future. Not now. Not already. And I'm going to have to tell Severus? Her stomach dropped at the prospect.

"I know this is quite a shock, Madam Snape, but this truly is wonderful news. Pureblood couples often have difficulty conceiving. I suppose it is rather fortunate that you are a Muggle-born," Madam Prince said thoughtfully. "You should rest, child. I can't have Severus returning home to find that you've fainted again. Go on; we will speak again soon, I assure you." She smiled kindly at Hermione.

"Thank you," Hermione replied softly. "I'm sorry if I caused you to worry. I appreciate you sharing this with me." She rose slowly and walked away, fully intending to march straight down to the library and find a spellbook that might confirm such shocking news.

Hermione huffed in frustration as she pushed aside yet another book. She couldn't find any texts related to family planning, contraception, or raising magical children. I need a spellbook on household magic… Or health, perhaps? How is it possible that in seven years of Wizarding education no one at Hogwarts mentioned anything about witch's health? I should write a letter to the Board of Governors. Though Madam Pomfrey would probably have a stroke if she were forced to teach sexual education...

A large stack of books was piled around her where she sat on the floor. She bit her lower lip and leaned back against the bookshelves behind her. What I need is a Muggle chemist shop and a regular, non-magical pregnancy test. But I doubt Narcissa would find that a suitable excursion. She smirked at the notion of explaining such a thing to Narcissa Malfoy: "Yes, you urinate on this stick and then wait to see if the little lines appear."

Humorous though it was, it hardly seemed a realistic option. Her hand wondered down to the thrice-damned pendant dangling against her blouse. It had burned – hadn't it? She had been terribly drunk at the time… perhaps she had just imagined it. Surely it would be too soon to tell, anyway. She contemplated asking Narcissa: she must know the spell! But that presented a slew of new complications, not the least of which would be explaining the whole thing to Severus. At the thought of him, she was struck by an idea. He probably locked the damned books in his study, she realized as she scrambled up from the floor. He would have hidden any books with contraceptive charms or potions, afraid I would find them...

After a few minutes of searching, she found a faded text with peeling purple letters titled "What Every Witch Should Know". "Oh, but this is ancient!" she groaned aloud. Surely the Wizarding World has made strides in the area of reproductive health since 1912. This must have belonged to Severus' grandmother! Sitting down at Severus' desk, she began to flip through the brittle pages. Sections entitled "Girlhood" and "Puberty" flashed before her eyes before she found the section she sought: "Reproduction." She began to read the passage that followed. "It is interesting to observe that the children of so-called great wizards are seldom above average in magical prowess, where, on the other hand, almost all wizards of great power have had exceptionally clever mothers." Well, she thought with a smirk, that explains why Severus was so insistent on having a bright witch bear his children.

An extensive explanation of the mechanics of consummation and conception followed, which she skimmed until she found the spell she needed: "One of the common questions asked by young women in early married life is how to tell if they are pregnant. The author recommends the use of 'Gravida ostendo'– literally translated, 'to show pregnancy.' This spell is easily cast by waving one's wand in fluid motions across one's midsection while reciting the incantation. A white light indicates no pregnancy, while a green light confirms that you are, indeed, with child."

"Well, that seems simple enough," Hermione announced to the empty room. She gripped her wand tightly and swept it above her stomach as she solemnly chanted "Gravida ostendo." For a moment, there was no light and she frowned, uncertain what she could have possibly done wrong. But then she noticed a faint light coming from underneath her blouse. She ripped her shirt up and saw her stomach was glowing – faintly, but distinctly - green.

She was only vaguely aware of her wand clattering to the floor.

Author's Note: The book she gets the spell from is shamelessly modeled after Margaret Sanger's "What Every Girl Should Know."