Hermione had been so sick, and then so tired. She chalked it up to stress. She’d been on more emergency days lately, and the research days had been longer and longer. She and Draco had celebrated their first anniversary in style, official wedding style. White dress, black tux and all. McGonagall officiated. Luna and Ginny had been her bridesmaids, Luna had been due with her first child, but Lysander had decided to wait until the next day to make his appearance. Scorpius was nearly two, and while he was still the spitting image of his father, his hair had grown in almost as curly as Hermione’s. Most people would assume he was her’s at first glance. He followed Hermione around on her day’s off with a constant "mumma? Mumma? What’s this?" "mumma read to me." "mumma, sing to me?" he still loved it when she sang for him. 