Hello! This was my first fanfic, and - although I'm not as please with it as I used to be - some of you seem to really like it so I've made some small edits. It's mostly the same if you're re-reading. The cover image is by mistress92 at DeviantArt, and she has graciously allowed me to use it.

The P.O.V. flips back and forth between Draco and Hermione.

"Granger," I call softly to the girl standing not ten feet from me. Maybe I'll get lucky, and she will ignore me. I'm afraid to see her face, but at the same time, I can't stand not to. I have to see her if she's crying like this.

I see her freeze; the shaking stops completely. Slowly she turns towards me. I was right to fear what I see. Those eyes, the brown I caught myself fantasizing about, are full of shame and remorse. It appears she is losing a battle within herself.

The constant mask – one I never really realized she wore – is gone.

I know that voice. What is he doing here? I turn around, afraid that the man I know is behind me will disappear but also afraid he won't. The look on his face is priceless. Under remotely normal circumstances, I would have wished for a camera. As is, I just need him gone.

I've come to the realization that he's reading the emotions on my face. I need to stay strong and hide this, especially from him. I need to keep some secrets to myself, my current state being one of them.

"Oh Granger," he says and holds out his arms.

That's all it takes.

I hurl myself into his arms. Though I've been telling myself to stay composed, I fall apart. I'm sobbing my hardest into his chest.

"There, there, Granger," In my own head I sound comforting and reassuring, but I'm not convinced. What happened to her? The brave, beautiful girl I've been slowly falling in love with since my early teens is gone. She's been replaced by someone afraid to step out of her own skin. Granger is falling apart in my arms. There must be something I can do.

"It's all right, Sweetheart," Instantly she cries harder. Have I triggered a memory? Did an ex-boyfriend call her "Sweetheart"? Who could it be? Obviously not Weasley, but I don't know of any others in her life. I thought I knew her better than this.

"Really," I say. "It will be fine. Everything will be all right."

She looks up with tear washed eyes, "It's not all right. It won't be fine. Draco, I'm...

"I'm pregnant."

Flashback:

"I'm pregnant." My words hung in the air, pressing down on me as I tried to read some emotion from Harry or Ginny, but Ron…

After about five minutes of sobbing, his eyes hardened and he hollered, "I'll kill him! I'll kill that son-of-a-bitch!"

It took Harry, Ginny, and I entirely too long to calm him down. "Who's the father?" he demanded. "I need to know what bastard knocked you up."

I cringed. I had known beforehand how he would take it, but it still cut through any defenses I'd put up. "Don't calm him that," I said gingerly.

Ginny sighed, "Please, Hermione, just tell us."

I shook my head, much to their annoyance. "He doesn't know yet," I told them. "I need a chance to tell him myself." I paused to glare at Ron. "Getting cursed into the next century is not the way he should find out."

After the "I'll kill him" scream-fest from Ron and the incessant questions about the father's identity, I need someone to hold me and say they love me and will take care of me. I'm not sure I'll get that from Draco.

"Do you love him?"

Out of all the questions I'd been asked, this one threw me the most. "Love him? Love who?" I ask.

Draco sighs and sends me a look that breaks my heart, "Do you love the father? If you love him, I won't hex him into oblivion."

What! Does he not remember? It was the only time in my life I've let myself become free enough to be taken to bed.

I watch her carefully as she seems to struggle with an answer. Finally her head snaps up so she's looking at me in a way that turns all me to liquid.

"Yes, I love him," she replies. "More than I ever thought I would."

A second of silence passes before I ask, "How far along are you?"

She has a far-off look in her eye. Her hand drifts to her stomach. "Four months tomorrow."

Today is the sixteenth. I- We- I made love. To Hermione. On the seventeenth. Four months ago.

"I'm going to be a father?" I ask, incredulous.

"Yes," is all she manages before I've swept her tightly in my arms.

"I love you," I whisper as I lean in to kiss her.

My heart soars. He loves me! He's kissing me! I'm too happy to wonder how many girls he's kissed, how many times he's said those words. The thoughts no longer plague me. At this point, all I can do is return the kiss.

I wrap my arms around his neck and I deepen our kiss. I can feel his arms on my waist, and it feels so nice to just be held.

I forget that we are just feet from The Three Broomsticks' door. I forget that Ron had been tormenting me yet again for Draco's identity. I forget my own escape from the pub to calm down. It doesn't matter.

"Get a room!" yells a drunkard leaving the pub.

The sparkle in this beautiful girl's eyes has returned. "Why?" she calls back. "I'm already having his baby."

A few people stop to stare. I hear whispers from the passersby, "Isn't that the Malfoy boy?" "Like father, like son." "Wonder if her blood is pure enough for a guy like him."

I ignore them, but for the first time in my life, my face is coloring in a blush.

"Who are you and what have you done with Hermione Granger?" I ask in her ear.

She giggles, "I feel so much more free and relieved than I have in a long time." She grins slyly. "Get your wand ready."

"The hell do I need my wand for?" I demand.

She sighs. "It's just a precaution," she promises. "Harry, Ginny, and Ron don't know it's you. They're in the pub."

I go cold. One or all three of them could attack me, but they have to know.

As I grab her hand and give her another kiss, I say, "Let's go in then."