Mistake?

A/N: There we go! Another chapter, and a longer one too. You guys can't complain now! *sticks out tongue* I'm not too sure how I feel about this chapter, I like it but I don't… but I guess an artist never really likes her work. Anyways, now that I'm beginning to get the people finding out about the pregnancy out of the way, I'll be able to write some of the things I've been waiting to for a long time. Hormonal!Hermione is just around the corner! *grins*

Oh, and thanks to the wonderful Oliver for beta'ing this for me!

Chapter 3

The following evening, Hermione was sitting on her couch with the books she had purchased earlier that day all around her. After getting off of work, she had stopped off at a bookstore near her flat and purchased nearly all the books on pregnancy the store had. Currently, Hermione had `Pregnant Women for Dummies' open on her lap while idly scratching Crookshanks behind the ears.

After the incident with Belle the other night, Hermione didn't get any word from Harry. Ron had stopped by during her lunch break to tell her that Harry and flooed over about an hour after Hermione had left. Ron said Harry wanted to apologize but things were pretty crazy and he was trying to keep Belle from burning down his house. When Ron had told her that, Hermione found herself slightly angry that Harry didn't floo or owl her for a damage report. She also had begun to replay what happened at work and realized that Harry had done pretty much nothing while Belle insulted her.

Turning the page, she snorted. “He just stood there.” She said to Crookshanks, “Didn't do a bloody thing when she said all those horrid things to me.”

“Tell me, do all pregnant women talk to their cats?”

Hermione shrieked and jumped, the book in her lap falling to the floor. Crookshanks gave an angry hiss at the sudden disturbance and jumped off the couch, walking out of the room with his tail swishing behind him.

Harry picked up the book and read the cover. He raised his eyebrows as he scanned over the numerous books around Hermione, a playful glint in his eyes. “Got enough books there?”

Hermione bristled and snatched the book out of Harry's hand. Her anger at Harry seemed to come back as she clutched the book to her chest, feeling the need to defend herself.

“Never hurts to be prepared.” She replied coolly.

The playful glint disappeared from Harry's eyes and he suddenly looked tired and weary. “You're mad at me.” He said.

“I think I have a right to be mad at you.”

“I'm not saying you don't.” He said quickly.

“Then what exactly are you saying?”

Harry sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, “I came here to apologize.” He sat down on the couch beside Hermione, resting his forearms on his knees. “I didn't know that Belle was going to say all those things to you. And, well, I feel pretty bad about not saying anything when she said those things.”

Hermione wanted to stay mad at Harry, but she felt her anger slowly going away when she heard the tone of his voice. She began to stack the books in a pile on her coffee table, watching Harry fidget out of the corner of her eye. “I thought you said,” She began, “that you would wait a while before telling her.”

“I was.” Harry nodded, “But after you left, Belle began to complain about me keeping secrets from her. At first I ignored her but she kept going on and on about it. My temper got the better of me, and I snapped.”

Hermione's eyes widened. Snapped? Did Harry mean he hit her or physically touched her? No, her Harry would never do that. “Harry…”

Harry gave a weak smile, “I shouted that you were pregnant and Belle pieced things together. She flipped out, went on a huge rampage through the house, then apparated out of there.”

“And that's probably around the time when she showed up at Ron and Luna's.” Hermione said. “Wait a minute, how did she know I would be there? I don't remember saying anything about it.”

Harry shrugged, “I dunno. I thought she was going to your flat so I apparated there, but your enchantments were up. The only other place you would be was Ron and Luna's.”

“And Belle was there and everything happened…” Hermione finished. Harry nodded as Crookshanks sauntered back into the room. He jumped up on Harry's lap, purring contentedly as Harry scratched behind his ears.

“When I followed her back to the house, we had a huge row. I'm pretty sure the neighbors could hear her screaming.” Harry said, smiling faintly. “The thing that made her really mad, besides the whole you being pregnant thing, was when you slapped her. I've never seen anyone's face go so purple so fast, not even Uncle Vernon. I'm proud of you.”

Hermione went pink and ducked her head, “I let my emotions control me.” She said, “I didn't mean to slap her.”

“Don't apologize. What she said was out of line.” He said. “And your technique has improved since you hit Malfoy back in third year.”

“Harry!” Hermione exclaimed, slapping his arm.

Harry grinned, “See! There you go again hitting people... I think this pregnancy is bringing out the violent side of you.”

“Oh you big baby.” Hermione said rolling her eyes, but a smile had appeared on her face.

The two sat in silence for a while, listening to Crookshanks purr. Hermione felt better then she did earlier that day, now that she and Harry talked. She still didn't know why he hadn't contacted her earlier, but she wasn't going to push it. “Do you think Belle will go to the media about this?”

Harry frowned, his fingers pausing behind Crookshanks' ear. “I'm not sure.” He said slowly. “The story would have been in this morning's Daily Prophet if Belle went to them.”

Hermione frowned as well, “That's weird. I thought Belle was the type of person who would do that sort of thing.” She said. “It kind of worries me that she's planning something…”

“I wouldn't give her that much credit.” Harry mumbled.

Hermione smirked and picked up the books. She got up and went to her bedroom to put the books away. She was about to walk out of the room when one of the pictures she had on her dresser caught her eye. Pausing, Hermione picked up the picture frame and stared at it, her stomach dropping.

The picture was a muggle one of a seven year old Hermione and her father standing in front of the Eiffel Tower on the Granger's first trip to Paris. Her father had both hands on her shoulders while Hermione was clutching a stuffed giraffe her father had bought just before the picture was taken after Hermione had begged him to buy it.

“Hermione?” Harry appeared in the doorway. “What are you looking at?”

She handed him the picture, sat down and stared at the top of her bookshelf, where the same giraffe from the picture was situated. The colors were faded with age but it was still

as good as new.

“Hey, I've never seen this picture before.” Harry said grinning, “You were a cute kid.”

Hermione snorted and rolled her eyes. She watched as Harry put the picture back down and sat down beside her. He nudged her shoulder with his playfully. “You've gotten quiet all of a sudden. Knut for your thoughts?”

“We're going to have to tell my parents soon.” Hermione sighed. She felt Harry stiffen slightly beside her. “It's funny how usually when women find out their pregnant one of the first things they do is tell their parents. For me it's almost the last thing I want to do.” She sighed again and looked down at her hands, “My father always told me to wait until marriage to have sex. And since I've always been his little girl, I guess I'm just scared that he'll be disappointed.”

Harry put an arm around her, “I think he'll be shocked, to say the least. But I don't think he'll be disappointed once he realizes he's going to be able to spoil his grandchild rotten.”

Hermione smiled and leaned against Harry. “You'll come with me when I tell them, right?” She asked.

“Of course.” Harry sighed, “I have a feeling your dad is going to hate me after this.”

“I'll go call my parents and see when would be the best time to go over.” Patting his knee, Hermione got up and walked into the kitchen. Harry followed her and went into the fridge, grabbing a bottle of butterbeer

“You shouldn't drink any more butterbeer from now on,” Harry advised, popping the cap open. “I remember Luna said something like butterbeer can be harmful to the baby.”

“I'm sure you'll want to do the honors of getting rid of all the butterbeer.” Hermione said, rolling her eyes. Harry smiled cheekily and raised the bottle then took a sip. She shook her head and dialed in her parents' phone number. After a couple of rings, her mother answered.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Mum.” Hermione said, beginning to feel a little nervous.

“Hermione, sweetie! How have you been?” Mrs. Granger's tone brightened almost immediately once she heard her daughter's voice.

“I've been okay.” She replied, glancing at Harry. “Busy with work.”

“As usual,” Her mother sighed, “I really wish you wouldn't work so hard, you'll get yourself sick.”

Hermione rolled her eyes but said nothing. She was used to her mother worrying about her work ethics, “I just started a new position, Mum. I have to work hard to get caught up.” Her mother made an impatient sound but said nothing. Hermione could imagine Mrs. Granger pursing her lips. “Listen, Mum. I called to see if Harry and I could come over sometime this week?”

“You and Harry?” Mrs. Granger said. “Any time is fine, why is something wrong?”

“No, nothing's wrong.” She said quickly, “I have something that I need to tell you and Dad.”

“And Harry will be coming along?” Mrs. Granger said slyly. “Would this something you have to tell us involve a Mr. Potter? You have liked him for such a long time now.”

Hermione felt her face flush, “Mum!”

“How about you two come over for dinner on Friday?” Mrs. Granger asked, laughing.

“Friday?” Hermione looked over at Harry, who nodded. “Yeah, that's fine.”

“All right, drop by around six, okay?”

“Okay. See you then, Mum.” Mother and daughter said their goodbyes and Hermione set the phone down on the counter. Harry set the now empty bottle in the sink as Hermione sat down at the table. “We'll be having dinner with my parents at six on Friday.” She said.

“Your dad is going to skin me alive when he finds out I touched his little girl.” Harry groaned.

~~~

That Friday, Harry and Hermione arrived at the Granger's house a little before six and were greeted by the wonderful smell of the chicken that Mr. Granger was cooking. Harry offered to help set the table while Mr. Granger began to make the salad and Mrs. Granger went to the cellar to get a bottle of wine.

“So Harry.” Mr. Granger began, chopping up some carrots, “How have you been?”

“I've been alright.” Harry replied, glancing nervously at Hermione.

“That's good.” He said, “Are you still going out with your girlfriend. What was her name now, Izzy?”

“Isabelle.” Harry said, paling slightly. “And no, we aren't together anymore.”

“I'm sorry, what happened?” Mr. Granger said, glancing at Harry before going back to cutting up vegetables. “Hermione said you were going strong about a month ago.”

Harry shot a horrified look at Hermione, who winced. `I'm sorry.' She mouthed at Harry.

“It just didn't work out.” Harry said, clearing his voice.

Mr. Granger scooped up the carrots and placed them in the salad bowl as Mrs. Granger came back into the room carrying a wine bottle. “I've been waiting to try this kind for a while now.” She said, placing the wine bottle on the table. She went to the cupboard and grabbed four glasses then walked back to the table. “Here you are Harry.” She said, pouring him a glass of wine.

“Thank you.” Harry said. He took the glass and placed it on the table, glancing at Hermione.

“Mum,” Hermione said. “I don't really feel like having any wine tonight.”

“I thought you said you loved this type?” Mrs. Granger asked, pausing in pouring Hermione a glass.

“I do.” Hermione said. She looked at Harry and nodded slightly. This wasn't how she planned on telling her parents but she never expected them to serve wine, her parents rarely ever drank alcohol. Harry, sensing that Hermione was going to tell her parents the news, glanced at the knife Mr. Granger was using then moved over to the opposite side of the kitchen. “It's just… I'm,” She took a deep breath. “I'm not really allowed to have any alcohol.”

Mr. Granger stopped cutting the vegetables and turned around to look at his daughter. Harry gave an audible gulp when he saw that Mr. Granger was still holding the knife. “Hermione,” Mrs. Granger gasped, “Are you…?”

Hermione nodded. Mrs. Granger was silent for a couple seconds then she shrieked and ran over to Hermione and hugged her. “Oh my baby's going to have a baby!” She cried. Hermione hugged her back and looked over at Mr. Granger. He had a look of shock on his face as he stared back at Hermione.

“Dad…” She said, “Are you okay?”

Mrs. Granger let go of her and turned to her husband, “Joseph, say something.” She said, placing her hands on her hips.

“P-pregnant?” He choked out. To Harry's great relief, he set the knife down on the counter. “But you aren't dating anyone. How can you be pregnant?”

Hermione winced and looked down feeling slightly ashamed. She felt Harry come up behind her and place a comforting hand on her arm. “I think you know how babies are made, Joseph.” Mrs. Granger said, crossing her arms. “After all, you are a father.”

“Of course I know how!” Mr. Granger sputtered. “What I meant is how in the… who did… who is the father?”

“I am… sir.” Harry said. Mr. Granger's eyes narrowed as he looked Harry up and down. Harry's grip on Hermione tightened slightly.

“So that's why you broke up with your girlfriend.” He said, bringing himself to full height.

“Joseph.” Mrs. Granger hissed. She turned to Harry and pulled him into a quick hug.

“Congratulations, you two. Don't let your father get you down.” She pulled away from Harry and grabbed the salad bowl and placed it on the table, “We'll talk as we eat.”

Mr. Granger said nothing but began to put the food on the table. Harry grabbed Hermione's hand and squeezed it gently before they went to go sit down. “So then this is what you wanted to tell us then?” Mrs. Granger asked, scooping some mashed potatoes onto her plate.

“Um, yeah.” Hermione said. “Although this wasn't exactly the way I was hoping you'd find out.”

Mr. Granger sat down across from Harry and stared at him. “I hope you're going to stick with my daughter and support her.” He said. He stabbed his fork into a slice of chicken and dumped it onto his plate.

“Of course,” Harry replied. “I'm not just going to leave her to raise a child alone.”

“Well, you're better then some men.” Mr. Granger said gruffly. Hermione smiled at her father. Harry seemed to relax a little and accepted the plate of stuffing from Mrs. Granger. “So the two of you will marry soon then?”

Hermione choked on the piece of bread she had bitten into and turned bright red. “Dad!” She cried.

“What?” He asked. “Were you planning on letting your child be born out of wedlock?”

“Oh Joseph,” Mrs. Granger groaned.

“We aren't going to get married, Dad.” Hermione said. “We already discussed that Harry will be in this child's life, but we aren't going to be together.”

“But -”

“The main thing is that Harry will be there.” Mrs. Granger said, interrupting Mr. Granger with a harsh glare. Hermione smiled gratefully at her mother. “You know Harry, you know what kind of man he is.”

Mr. Granger didn't look pleased but kept his mouth shut. Dinner after that was pretty quiet after that. Mrs. Granger mainly talked about preparing for the baby and baby shower and Harry and Hermione listened quietly.

After they had eaten and cleaned up the kitchen, Mr. Granger retreated to his study. “Don't worry about him.” Mrs. Granger said softly, seeing the worried look in her daughter's eyes. “He just needs time to get used to the fact that you have grown up.”

Harry and Hermione decided to apparate to the Three Broomsticks and then walk back to Hermione's flat from there, which was about five blocks away. Hand in hand, the couple walked in silence along the dark sidewalk, both lost in their own thoughts. “Well,” Hermione said, breaking the silence, “that definitely went better then I thought it would.”

Harry nodded but stayed silent. There was a frown on his face as he stared at the sidewalk in front of him.

“Harry?” Hermione asked. She stopped walking and gently pulled on Harry's hand. He stopped and turned around to face her. “Is everything okay?”

“Your father did bring up some good points.” Harry said. “We aren't living together, we aren't dating, and there's a good chance we'll never get married.” Hermione winced, but Harry didn't catch it. “I think your father was thinking of how our child would feel. She would grow up not knowing what a loving family is.”

“That isn't true.” Hermione protested. “We love each other! Sure, it isn't the romantic type of love, but, we'll work things out.”

Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, you're right.”

Hermione smiled as they continued to walk. “So… `she' huh?”

“Hmm?”

“When you were talking about how our child would feel, you said `she would grow up'.” Hermione giggled. “So you want a little girl then?”

Harry's cheeks tinged pink and didn't say anything.

~~~~

A/N: There you have it, chapter 3. How'd you like it? The next chapter should be up sometime… I have lots of holidays coming up, 4 day weekend here, 3 day weekend next week…

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