Hermione landed, hard, in what appeared to be the parlor of Granger Cottage and looked around the place; in short, it was beautiful. It appeared to be the parlor out of a fairytale storybook, and she was quite sure the rest of the cottage would resemble that theme as well. Lowering Crookshanks' basket onto the floor, the little angry yowls notwithstanding, she opened the thing and the feline hopped out, his orange fur standing out on end at the unfamiliarity of the space around him. As she raised her eyes, she saw a group of house-elves looked at her curiously from the door of the parlor, a mixture of curiosity, excitement, wariness, and humor on their faces, which Hermione hoped was attributed to Crookshanks' mannerisms.

"Good morning," Hermione said quietly, regarding the elves, as Crookshanks made a beeline for her legs, hiding behind them. "Sorry about him. Crookshanks is very friendly, but he needs to get to know you first."

"Kimsey understands, Mistress Granger," said what appeared to be the matron of the group, as evidenced by her ample body, apron, and cloth around her ears. She stepped closer, her blue eyes kind, as she took in Hermione and Crookshanks fully for the first time. "I is Kimsey, and Kimsey is the leader of the Granger house-elves. Kimsey makes sure the household runs properly, and will make sure that Mistress Granger has everything Mistress Granger needs. Kimsey will find out Mistress Granger's schedule, and when Mistress Granger wishes to move houses. Kimsey will always make sure everything is in working order."

Hermione nodded at her. "Thank you, Kimsey. Would you all mind calling me 'Mistress Hermione', please? It would make me much more comfortable..."

"Kimsey understands, Mistress Hermione," the elf replied, smiling up at her new mistress, as her ears wiggled from beneath the cloth. "Kimsey will remember."

A second elf stepped forward; he appeared to be just slightly older than Kimsey, but not nearly as old as Kreacher. "I is Dordey, Mistress Hermione," he explained in a surprisingly deep voice as he fingered the cloth around his neck with one hand (likely fashioned to be a scarf of some kind), while his other hand gripped the had he held, out of respect. "Dordey is Kimsey's house-elf mate. Dordey is head butler of the house-elves, and is here to make sure that the wards are in working order, and to ensure no one comes or goes to any of the Granger properties without Mistress Hermione's express permission."

The third elf came up in a rather bouncing manner, and Hermione took a liking to her almost immediately for the kindness in her shining, silvery eyes. "I is Tiffy, Mistress Hermione," the elf said, almost too loudly, but Hermione admitted her enthusiasm as the little elf preened in her flowery, flowy pink skirt, which had little suspenders attached to it; there was also a little flower behind one of her ears. "Tiffy is the older child of Kimsey and Dordey. Tiffy is to be in charge of the nursery of the House of Granger, Mistress Hermione, and to make sure that all the babies that are born are safe and well cared for."

Finally, the last elf of the bunch stepped forward; he was wearing a chef's hat and apron, although his ears were positioned downwards, not in sadness, but in seriousness. "I is Ganrey, Mistress Hermione, the younger child of Kimsey and Dordey," he said solemnly, his dark brown eyes very severe. "Ganrey does all the shopping, keeps the kitchen clean, and makes all of Mistress Hermione's favorite meals. Mistress Hermione must inform Ganrey if Mistress Hermione has any favorite foods, or if Mistress Hermione is planning a party, and Ganrey will make sure it is lovely."

Hermione smiled, pleased that each elf had taken the time to introduce themselves to her in a wonderful fashion, and found she was very much looking forward to working with all of them in the coming future. "It is very nice to meet you Kimsey, Dordey, Tiffy, and Ganrey," she stated, making sure to look them each in the face when she said their names. "It won't just be me and Crookshanks in the house, however. I am currently expecting my first child."

Tiffy squealed aloud at that, clapping her hands together. "Tiffy will get started on cleaning out the nursery right away, Mistress Hermione!"

Hermione nodded at her. "Thank you, Tiffy."

Ganrey straightened up then. "Ganrey will be watching for any shopping lists that Mistress Hermione makes, if Mistress Hermione has any baby cravings," he said seriously.

Hermione smiled down at her little chef elf. "That is most appreciated, Ganrey," she said politely to him. "Thank you."

"Dordey will look over the spell books on keeping the child safe once it is born," said the wizened house-elf. "Dordey will update any wards, and household spells, that are necessary so as both the child, and Mistress Hermione, are safe."

Hermione felt her ears nearly filling with tears at that. "Thank you," she said quietly. "My child and I very much appreciate that."

"And Kimsey will make sure the house is in tip-top working order as the months go by, so as Mistress Hermione needn't worry about a thing until the baby arrives," Kimsey said, drawing herself up to her full height. "Will Mistress Hermione be wanting any visitors?"

"Yes, eventually," she said, and turned to Dordey. "Dordey, may I give you names of witches and wizards who are allowed inside the cottage?" she asked.

Immediately, Dordey summoned a piece of parchment and a quill, and placed a pair of spectacles upon the bridge of his nose. "Self-inking quill, Mistress Hermione," he said, before looking up at her again. "What names shall Dordey write?"

"Arthur and Molly Weasley," Hermione began, and Dordey began murmuring with approval as he began writing the names down; it seemed as if her association with the Weasley family was a good one. "Bill and Fleur Weasley," she continued, and there was more murmuring as she lowered herself onto the of the chintz couches on offer in the parlor. "Charlie Weasley and George Weasley... Ron Weasley and Lavender Brown, and Ginny Weasley and Viktor Krum," she went on, and Dordey quickly scrawled down the names. "Harry Potter and Severus Snape," she said, and all the elves bowed their heads at the direct mention of the Savior of the Wizarding World's name.

"Kimsey and Kimsey's family know how much Master Potter means to the house-elves," she said with a reverent tone of voice. "Kimsey once knew Dobby. What Master Potter did for Dobby is nothing short of wonderful, Mistress Hermione."

Hermione nodded. "It was, wasn't it?" she remarked softly.

Dordey finished writing down the last pair of names. "Is there anyone else that Mistress Hermione wishes to extend her home to for visits?"

"Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, Andromeda Tonks, and Teddy Lupin," she said, feeling saddened about dear Ted's death, but also knew wholeheartedly that she would have invited him, had he survived the war. "I will also permit Minerva McGonagall, Neville Longbottom, Luna and Xenophilius Lovegood, Filius Flitwick, Pomona Sprout, Horace Slughorn, Irma Pince, Septima Vector, Poppy Pomfrey, Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt and Deputy Minister Alastor Moody, Aberforth Dumbledore, Rubeus Hagrid and his dog Fang, Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas, and Arabella Figg into my home via my wards."

Dordey dutifully scrawled down every name Hermione mentioned in record time, before he nodded his head decidedly. "Are there any further names you wish to add to the wards, Mistress Hermione?" he asked curiously.

Hermione shook her head at him, although the thought of Sirius niggled at the back of her mind, she quickly quashed it. "No, thank you, Dordey," she replied at last.

Dordey nodded decidedly to himself. "Dordey will look over the wards and add security measures if needed, Mistress Hermione," he said, before he snapped his fingers and departed to another room of the house.

Tiffy bowed to Hermione, mentioned something about getting to work and tidying up the nursery before she left the room.

Ganrey stepped closer then, and bowed his head. "Does Mistress Hermione wish to make any requests of Ganrey in the kitchen?"

"I like a roast with all the trimmings each Sunday for supper Ganrey," Hermione said quietly, and Ganrey removed a parchment notebook from his chef's apron and set to work. "I take my tea at three o'clock daily, unless I am out of the house around that time, and I will let you know as often as possible if I will be. Breakfast I like to have between eight and nine in the morning, and I like a traditional fry-up on weekends, with apple juice. Porridge with cream and brown sugar will suffice in the autumn and winter seasons, but I like milk or water with it. As for the spring and summertime, I like fresh berries— blackberries, strawberries, and raspberries—along with cheese and fresh bread for my breakfast time, and Gillywater." Hermione hesitated as she watched Ganrey write, not wanting him to accuse her of going too fast as Crookshanks finally got the courage to hop onto the couch and curl up in an orange, mid-sized ball upon her lap. "My dinner I like to take at noontime, and I like a wide variety of sandwiches—my favorites are roast chicken, roast turkey, and roast beef. I like cheese on my chicken and turkey sandwiches but not on my beef. I take mayonnaise and mustard on both sandwiches, but no onions, please. I also fancy lettuce and tomato as well."

Ganrey nodded in approval as he continued writing everything down. "Does Mistress Hermione like anything with her sandwiches?"

"Crisps, please. Pringles Original or Walkers roast chicken," Hermione said, and Ganrey made a note of that. "I drink squash with my sandwiches, and favor apple, strawberry, pomegranate, and raspberry flavors. Harry is the one who likes pumpkin juice," she went on, wrinkling her nose at the thought of it. "We can keep some in the house, a case or two, because he just runs right through it no matter where he is, but I myself won't drink it. Also, with my dinner, I like freshly-cut vegetables—such as carrots or celery, with ranch dressing or hummus. Or, alternatively, I like salads. In the summertime, I would like sandwiches with crisps, squash, and a salad, or a chicken Caesar salad."

Ganrey smiled at Hermione in consideration and kept right on writing.

"For supper, as previously mentioned, on Sundays I like a traditional roast, a beef one, with Yorkshire puddings, boiled potatoes, and roasted vegetables. Typically, I like a glass of red wine with that, although I should think I should stick to sparkling apple cider for now," she joked at her own expense, cupping her belly, watching as Ganrey smirked down at his notes in amusement, and Kimsey smiled indulgently in her direction, reminding her very much of the Weasley matriarch, which caused her to yearn for her own mother. "I tended to keep a schedule growing up as to what was for supper, as my mother and father were Muggle dentists, and, after my second-year at Hogwarts, I did the own cooking, as my nanny had retired," she continued, and Ganrey lifted his quill and looked up at her, fully prepared to hear her out. "Mondays was a hearty beef stew, to use up the leftover roast, and fresh bread," Hermione began, and Ganrey began writing again. "Tuesdays were chicken and mushroom pies, and Wednesdays were Toad in a Hole accompanied by roasted vegetables. Thursdays were a sausage lasagna with a Caesar salad, and Fridays were a roast chicken, mash, and French beans. Finally, on Saturdays, we would have..." Hermione flushed. "...pizza."

"Takeaway, then?" Ganrey asked, looking up.

Hermione nodded at him. "Yes."

Kimsey stepped forward then, and placed her hand atop Hermione's, a concerned expression on her face, although it appeared as if she wished to impart some wisdom onto her. "The Wizarding District of Cotswold's isn't too far from here, and they have a great many restaurants, Mistress Hermione," she explained, and Hermione turned to look down at her. "They have a lovely Italian establishment, if that tickles your fancy, called Porlock Pizzeria."

Hermione perked up at that. "And... They permit their customers to fashion their own pies, if they so choose?"

"Most assuredly, Mistress Hermione," Ganrey said, perking up at that. "Master Hector used to allow us to..." He trailed off.

Hermione inclined her head towards the chef. "Please, speak Ganrey. I don't mind if you discuss your former master with me. You must have thought very highly of him, and, as such, much miss him very much."

Ganrey perked up considerably at that. "Thank you, Mistress Hermione," he said, obviously relieved at her words. "Master Hector also permitted us to have whatever we liked from the pizzeria, but, of course, none of us expect you to—"

Hermione held up her hand, and Ganrey trailed off. "Ganrey, if you, Kimsey, Dordey, or Tiffy want anything from there when we're ordering, you may have whatever you like, of course. After all, we're family, but you're also salaried, now that you're with me. I've learned a lot from my days at Hogwarts, and the four of you seem plenty happy here. So, while I will not free you, if that is not what you wish, I must pay you for your services. I cannot abide the thought of the four of you considering yourselves as slaves, because you are not slaves, at least, not to me, and not to a great many witches and wizards of the Wizarding World."

Kimsey straightened up then, and recovered considerably more quickly than that of her young son. "We thank you for your great kindness, Mistress Hermione. Our dear Master Hector felt much the same way you did about house-elves, and although Master Hector gave us everything we could possibly need, Master Hector did not pay Kimsey, or Kimsey's family."

"Well, perhaps it is time for a new chapter on that front," Hermione said firmly, squeezing Kimsey's hand gently. "As long as you are a member of my family, I will ensure a decent salary for all of you, and you may ask me for anything you might need, or even want."

Kimsey lowered her head solemnly, while Ganrey tried his best to fight back tears from across the room. "You are a wonderful witch, Mistress Hermione, and we are proud to serve you as the heiress of the House of Granger."

Ganrey finally seemed to recover, sniffling slightly as he regarded his notes in front of him, and making a great effort not to burst into tears again. "Mistress Hermione has not yet informed Ganrey of what she would like for teatime."

Hermione let out a small laugh then, and Crookshanks looked up at her from his place upon her lap. "Right, of course, Ganrey, how silly of me," she said, shaking her head. "Well, I suppose I would like Tetley—milk, two sugars—chicken sandwiches on sourdough bread, cheddar cheese scones, chocolate biscuit cake and vanilla tea cake biscuits will be fine, thank you."

Ganrey furiously wrote everything down as Hermione said it, determined to do right by his new mistress. "As for snacks throughout the day, is there anything in particular that Mistress Hermione would like in the house?"

"Just fresh fruit or vegetables, the ones previously mentioned," Hermione informed him, and the little elf nodded his head.

Ganrey looked up at last. "And for Mistress Hermione's pudding?"

"Rice pudding always on a Sunday," Hermione began, and Ganrey quickly took up his quill once again. "Arctic Roll on Monday, followed by egg custard tarts on Tuesday. On Wednesday, butter cake, and vanilla Viennetta cake for Thursday. Lava cakes for Friday, and vanilla gelato for Saturday," she concluded, smiling happily at making her own little traditions. "I will, of course, inform you of any supper parties or guests who are coming for a meal or to spend the night, and will give you plenty of opportunity to assist me in preparing special menus."

Ganrey looked quite pleased with everything Hermione had told him. "Ganrey is going to the shops right away, Mistress Hermione!" he all but squealed, before bowing to her and rushing out of the parlor.

Kimsey smiled indulgently in the direction her son had gone, before she turned back to face her new mistress. "Perhaps Kimsey could give Mistress Hermione a tour of Granger Cottage before Mistress Hermione wishes to settle in?"

"I would appreciate that very much, Kimsey, thank you," Hermione replied, getting to her feet and clicking her tongue, which caused Crookshanks to follow her after she had set him back down onto the parlor floor.

"As Mistress Hermione can see, this is the parlor," Kimsey said, smiling decidedly to herself before she stepped out, waiting for Hermione to follow her, as she stood in the corridor. "Here we have the portrait gallery of past Granger family members," she continued, and Hermione marveled at just how long a corridor it was.

Continuing onwards, Kimsey explained each and every room to Hermione in detail; despite the fact that it was a cottage, it had a brewing lab in its basement, a drawing room, a library, a study, a fully-equipped kitchen, dining room and banqueting hall, a smaller nook in which to eat more intimate meals which was located just off the kitchen, and two bathrooms downstairs. Upstairs were the bedrooms, library, study, and other bathrooms; there was four bedrooms currently, but Kimsey explained that wizard space worked very well in this household, so if Hermione needed to expand the house, to just inform Kimsey of the specifics of what she wanted, and she would make it happen. The nursery was attached to the master bedroom, naturally, and had a big window overlooking the land the cottage had been built upon at least three centuries ago, according to Kimsey.

Tiffy was deep cleaning the nursery, but scrambled to her feet once Hermione and her mother entered the space. "Mistress Hermione, Mother," she said formally, bowing the Hermione and giving her mother a small smile. "Can Tiffy be doing anything for Mistress Hermione, or is Mother merely giving Mistress Hermione the grand tour?"

"The grand tour, Tiffy," Hermione said gently. "And please, don't exhaust yourself. The baby isn't due until February."

Tiffy nodded in understanding. "Yes, Mistress Hermione," she said, but nevertheless returned to her work of disinfecting the floor, much to Hermione's amusement.

Hermione looked over the nursery with approval; the walls had been painted white, rendering the entirety of the rooms' palette to a blank canvas. A beautiful crib, from the Victorian era and fashioned out of rosewood, stood close to the large window, and all the other furniture in the bedroom was made from rosewood as well; Hermione was sensing a theme, as every piece of furniture throughout the house she had seen had been created from rosewood, along with the very floors she stood upon, although very fine and expensive-looking Parisian rugs, which dotted varying surfaces along the way.

Kimsey finished her anecdote of the nursery and moved on to the attached door, which led directly to the master bedroom, which had a walk-in closet, en suite, and was connected to the Floo Network. Kimsey explained that there were four connections in the house—one in the parlor, one in the drawing room, one in the master, and one in the library. Most rooms had a fireplace, she went on to say, so Kimsey informed Hermione that Floo Network connections could be attached to those fireplaces as well.

Hermione was gobsmacked at the sheer beauty of the master bedroom; the king-sized bed was, naturally, made from rosewood, had red velvet curtains and a matching canopy, all trimmed with gold cord. The bedding was as white as snow, and fashioned with Imperturbable Charms, so it was never at risk of becoming dirty or ruined. The curtains on the two large windows matched the ones upon the bed, and there was a rosewood desk, dresser, and vanity table. Each window boasted a nook in which to sit in, and there was a massive bookshelf built into one wall. The ensuite was an entirely new world, built from white marble, with a large soaking tub which was large enough for more than one person, standing shower big enough for an army, a linen closet with an abundance of towels, and a large counter with two sinks. The mirror above the sink was very fine, and had silver around its edges.

The Parisian carpets upon her bedroom floor were plush and in very good condition, despite looking as old as the house itself, due to their designs. Imperturbable Charms had to have been used upon them to make them look that way, Hermione mused. Hermione felt a sense of rare calm that she hadn't expected to feel, and had not felt in a very long time. The last time she had felt that way, she figured, when she had woken up from being petrified. Her heart broke at the notion of it all, because she was able to return home to her mother and father that summer, which was something she was never able to do again...

"Is it all to Mistress Hermione's liking?"

Hermione snapped her gaze back to Kimsey, and forced herself to nod. "Yes, thank you, Kimsey; it's all beautiful."

Kimsey smiled in approval. "Kimsey will rush out now and get some owl order catalogues for Mistress Hermione," she explained. "For Flourish and Blotts and Madam Malkin's, so as Mistress Hermione might purchase some new books and clothing. Does Mistress Hermione require anything else before Kimsey does her errand, or would Mistress Hermione like any other catalogues?"

Hermione thought it over. "The apothecary, please, Kimsey," she replied, and Kimsey nodded her head in understanding. "I will contact Madam Pomfrey from Hogwarts later on this afternoon to ask her about pregnancy potions."

"Mistress Hermione is thoughtful in all things," Kimsey praised her.

Hermione smiled and nodded her thanks to the house-elf. "I would also like a catalogue from Slugs & Jiggers, please, Kimsey, as well as from Eeylop's Owl Emporium," she went on, and Crookshanks appeared slightly taken aback at that, swishing his tail from where he sat upon the bench at the edge of the bed, which caused Hermione to face her familiar directly. "It will not be a replacement for you, darling," she consoled him, and Crookshanks momentarily shut his eyes at her words, and opened them slowly. "It is merely that I cannot rely on Hedwig, Pigwidgeon, or Errol for the rest of my life."

"Mistress Hermione is correct," Kimsey said, and turned to address Crookshanks, who turned to look at her as well. "As Head of the House of Granger, Mistress Hermione will likely have much correspondence over time. She will need an owl to carry letters on her behalf."

Crookshanks let out a small meow, which seemed to hold a note of agreement, before he stretched himself and hopped up onto the bed, curled up into a ball, and began to doze off, his tail wrapped around his body.

"Thank you, Kimsey," Hermione said. "If you don't mind, I would like to put my belongings away now, and have a nap before teatime."

"Mistress Hermione will not be requiring lunch, then?" Kimsey asked.

Hermione sighed, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet; she hadn't eaten since breakfast the day before, at the Opal Café, before she had gone to find her parents. Now that she was carrying a child, she knew skipping meals was very irresponsible. "Just a sandwich, some squash, and some crisps, please," she said, suddenly finding that she was very hungry. "I won't need tea, then. I just want to sleep for a while..."

Kimsey nodded. "Kimsey understands, Mistress Hermione," the motherly elf said. "Kimsey will leave Mistress Hermione to herself now, and go collect the catalogues."

"Thank you, Kimsey," Hermione said, watching as the house-elf slipped out the main door of her new bedroom, and snapped her fingers, the door sliding slowly shut behind her.

Unclasping her hands, Hermione permitted them to dip into her beaded bag and remove everything within it, and quickly sent her clothes from the Horcrux hunt into the laundry. The other items were books or other keepsakes, which she placed on the bookshelf, which included various photographs from over the years. It convinced her to have a small gathering at the cottage soon, so as she would be able to get more photographs, and wondered about obtaining a wizarding, or a Muggle, camera for the occasion.

Hermione removed her dove gray suit and tossed that into the laundry as well, knowing she would have to wash it before she banished it from her life forever. Venturing into the bathroom, Hermione was relieved to see that hot water came out of the faucets, and got into the shower almost immediately. The streams of water warmed her considerably and eased the aches out of her muscles, and she was pleased to find some rose and vanilla shampoo, conditioner, and body wash in the provided cavity, and wondered if the rumors about house-elves being familiar, or anticipating, their master or mistress's likes and dislikes were true.

After getting out of the shower and wrapping a soft, burgundy-colored towel around her, with the golden monogram HG, she left the bathroom and padded across the floor. Surprisingly, she found her clean clothes in the dresser, and found an oversized shirt, a pair of shorts, and some cotton panties within. Dressing herself and summoning her hairbrush, and pulled the knots and snarls out of her curls, before banishing it back to the vanity table. Then, gabbing a handful of Floo powder and crouching down before the fireplace, and whispered, "Hogwarts Infirmary, the Office of Madam Pomfrey" and the fire glowed green as she tossed it in.

The green flames swirled two and fro for a moment as a connection was established, and Hermione sat back on her haunches as the smoke cleared and Madam Pomfrey's inner office came into view. She sat forward again, noticing that the Hogwarts matron was sitting at her desk, writing something down on a large wad of parchment. She was, Hermione reasoned, mapping out a potential budget for next terms' potion inventory.

"Madam Pomfrey?" she called out tentatively.

The matron raised her eyes from the parchment, dropping her quill almost immediately as she caught sight of Hermione's face in the fire. "Hermione, dear!" she cried out, getting to her feet and walking promptly over to the fireplace, and crouched before it, sticking her head into the flames so as to communicate better. "What is it, dear? Are you back from Australia? Severus informed us all that you'd be going..."

Hermione nodded her head. "Yes, Madam Pomfrey..."

"Poppy, please, dear," the matron said suddenly. "You're no longer a student anymore, of course, given that Minerva gave you your NEWTs nearly a year ago."

Hermione flushed. "Right, of course, Poppy," she said, squirming slightly at the sudden informality between them.

"How was Australia, then?" Poppy asked.

Hermione sighed, her shoulders slumping. "It didn't go well," she replied. "I tried everything I could think of, but I couldn't break the Memory Charm."

Poppy looked deeply sympathetic towards Hermione. "I'm so sorry, dear."

Hermione shook her head. "It'll be all right," she assured her. "It turns out that I'm the sole heir to Hector Dagworth-Granger. The head goblin, Quadbert, at Gringotts gave me the news just this morning. He gave me a list of properties to choose from, as well as my vault key. I am currently living at my new cottage in Cotswold's."

"That's wonderful, my dear," Poppy said, positively beaming. "If anyone deserves a reversal of fortune in that regard, it's you."

Hermione bit down hard on her lower lip. "Well, Poppy, something has come up," she said, and Poppy was immediately listening to her more clearly. "It seems as though I'm pregnant. The baby is due in February."

"Please tell me you didn't enter the Battle of Hogwarts pregnant," Poppy said, a wariness in her tone that couldn't be easily dissuaded.

"No, I didn't," Hermione assured her. "It was after the battle."

Poppy nodded, looking as if she was feeling much better about that fact. "Well, good," she said, and breathed a sigh of relief. "Will you be wanting pregnancy potions, then?"

"I would yes," Hermione said, vaguely aware of some magic occurring behind her and, managing to peer over her shoulder, saw a tray of a sandwich, bottle of squash, glass of water, bag of crisps, and two chocolate digestive cookies waiting for her. "I was also hoping that, if you're not too busy, you would be willing to be my mediwitch for the duration of my pregnancy, as well as for the rest of my life..."

Poppy looked positively touched at Hermione's words. "You wouldn't feel more comfortable going to St. Mungo's, then?" she asked.

Hermione made a face. "And invite someone infectious like Rita Skeeter to publish an article in The Daily Prophet filled with lies? No, thank you," she said, shaking her head. "One of my house-elves has already begun manipulating the wards so as only individuals whom I invite into my property can enter it. You, of course, are one of them."

Poppy beamed at this turn of events. "It makes me utterly tickled that you would trust me with such a thing, Hermione," she said quietly. "I would be glad to be your mediwitch, and to assist you throughout your pregnancy, in any way that I can." She hesitated. "Severus will, of course, be the one brewing your pregnancy potions..."

Hermione nodded. "I know. Could you hold off on telling him who they're for just yet? I intend to have a small supper party in the ensuing weeks, where I'll inform everyone who I want to know about the pregnancy then."

Poppy nodded her head. "Of course. I will have to tell him that it is not a student, however, which will assist in the confidentiality matter, if that's all right."

Hermione swallowed, knowing entirely well that the entire scenario would be different if she had stayed on as a student at Hogwarts. "Yes, I understand, Poppy, and no, of course I don't mind. I understand that he must be given a bit of information, no matter how paltry."

Poppy's lips twitched then in a moment of humor. "Well, now that that's settled, which day would you like to select for your first appointment?"

"Is Saturday all right?" Hermione wanted to know.

Poppy nodded. "Yes. The school is closed for a fortnight, and the fifth and seventh-years were permitted to take their OWLs and NEWTs already, if they wished to, or may take them during the school closure. Examination rooms have already been arranged via Minerva and the new Minister of Magic, so I've plenty of time on the weekends."

Hermione, sighed, feeling relieved that this conversation had gone so well. "Thank you, Poppy, for everything. I am feeling a bit better about all of this now."

Poppy looked uncomfortable for a moment, before permitting herself to speak again. "And do you wish to have the father at these appointments?"

Hermione immediately shook her head. "No. The father will not be involved."

Poppy nodded. "Of course," she said softly. "If you wish to share his identity with me, Hermione, it will go no further. If he was once a student at Hogwarts, I would have his medical records on hand, and would be able to obtain them anonymously from St. Mungo's for later ones as well..."

Hermione flushed, lowering her eyes. "It was just one night, he made sure of that..."

Poppy reached through the flames and gently took Hermione by the hand. "Merlin, Hermione... I need to know if he hurt you..."

"No," Hermione assured her. "Not during the act itself. It was his actions afterwards that placed a permanent wound upon my heart..."

"Hermione," Poppy said softly, "do you wish to continue with this pregnancy?"

"Yes!" Hermione replied vehemently, locking eyes with Poppy. "And this has nothing to do with the fact that I am alone in the world, or potentially against termination! I'm not against termination, but I want this baby, Poppy, I really do..."

Poppy nodded at the younger witch, understanding appearing in her expression. "Of course, dear," she said. "I just have to ask."

Hermione sighed. "I understand," she said quietly.

Poppy sensed she would have to tread carefully. "And the father, Hermione? Do you wish to share with me his identity?"

Hermione looked worried. "And, he'll never know?"

"Not from me, he won't," Poppy assured her. "It's an oath I took from the moment I decided to become a mediwitch. I cannot reveal a patient's information to anyone if they themselves have not authorized me to do so."

Hermione's hand gripped the rug beneath her, before she finally permitted herself to speak once more. "Sirius Black is the father," she whispered, a massive weight being lifted from her shoulders as she spoke.

Poppy blinked. "I thought the pair of you got along fine..."

"So did I," Hermione replied, "until I realized that Sirius had a romantic life, and I could possibly ruin everything for him if I made myself known..."

"Hermione?" Poppy asked.

Slowly, Hermione looked up at the mediwitch, her eyes filled with tears. "Merlin, Poppy, what am I going to do? A baby," she whispered brokenly, cupping her belly.

"Is that Hermione on the other end of the Floo?" a familiar voice asked from behind Poppy, whose eyes widened.

Hermione froze at the voice, knowing that, if she answered, it could make or break everything she had already begun to build.