Chapter One
Hermione Granger somehow managed to be the first one through the door of Number Twenty-One Incisor in Crawley. Little seemed to have changed since she left home at Christmas. There was the same print of a hand of cards, a ten, a nine, and a two, that had been on the wall of the entry way since she was six. She had not been allowed to get her trunk out of the boot. That was apparently Harry's job, despite the fact that he had tripped and busted his head on his trunk at King's Cross, less than two hours ago.
Hermione quickly detoured to the half-bath on the ground floor. She knew she shouldn't have picked up that bottle of lemonade, but it had been so long since she'd had anything carbonated, and well, she had been thirsty. Of course, all the way home in the back seat of the Bentley, her baby, apparently planning on trying out for football, early, had been testing her bladder control. She barely was able to sit down on the toilet before another kick proved to be the last straw for her.
By the time she finished, washed her hands, and exited the half-bath, everything had been brought in. Harry was waiting for her at the base of the stairs. "I took your trunk up to your room," he said. "Your father says he wants to be out of range when you get there."
"Traitor!" her father's voice came from the kitchen.
"Thanks, Harry," Hermione said, as Harry helped her up the stairs. They were not as steep as the ones going up to their dorm room at Hogwarts, but that didn't mean that she found them comfortable to ascend. She had taken a potion that would prevent her from going into labor until tomorrow that morning, and it had left her a bit stiff. It would increase the odds of her having the baby tomorrow, but going to labor on the Express was not considered to be a good place.
There was a new carpet in the upstairs hall, starting just past the top of the steps. It was a royal blue and the padding felt good on her bare feet. Hermione opened the door to her room. It had changed since she'd been in it last. Were before their had been four book cases, aligned down the left side of the room, two of them had been moved to her outside wall, flanking the double hung windows. Her trunk had been placed under the window, with a large pad placed on top of it, turning it into an effective window seat. Her bed had been moved against the left hand wall, with a trio of book cases creating an alcove at it's foot. Her bed was still covered with her Disney Princess quilt. A circular crib dominated the middle of the room, with a changing table against the right hand wall, next to the door to the bath that her bedroom shared with the room next door.
There was a fresh coat of paint on the remaining exposed walls, in a soft gold, which went well with the book cases, which had been stained dark. Her father had obviously spent some time on Hermione's room since Christmas.
There would be a good half hour before dinner, so Hermione stepped over to the bookcase to the left of the window, which was cut to allow her bed in its place. She began to scan the titles. It was obvious that her father had entirely messed up her organization, which given the amount of new book shelf space, was a given. However, she honestly thought that her father would have at least shelved them right side up, and neatly. Spotting her copy of the Complete Shakespeare haphazardly placed on a shelf, she pulled it out, discovering that when it had been shelved another book, a copy of poems by Poe, had been forced between its pages, bending and damaging the work from which her name had been picked.
Her father was never again going to be allowed to touch her books. If he did, some of the charms that Hermione had picked up from Hogwart's long suffering librarian would make him regret it. Meanwhile, Hermione decided that her planned nap could wait. Her father needed to find out just what he had gotten into by not treating the books of a pregnant witch with proper respect.