This story takes place within the same universe as one that I posted to celebrate last Christmas entitled, "The Method to Their (Christmas) Madness," as well as one-shot which is Chapter 2 in the "Various and Sundry Dramione" collection. You do not need to read both or either of those to understand this, but I just thought you might be interested if you want a little more background information :)

"Oh, star of wonder, star of night, star with royal beauty bright…"

"Hum one more note of that carol and I will stab you," Hermione bit out through clenched teeth, not even bothering to look at her best friend.

The humming abruptly stopped. "I know you're really upset when you threaten violence via muggle means," Harry observed, his casual response a testament to their many years of friendship; there were few people she didn't intimidate these days.

She growled at him.

"I apologize, Madam Minister," he said with a deferential nod.

She sighed. "Why are you in such a good mood anyway?" She asked him.

She herself was feeling quite annoyed by the cheerily decorated halls of the Ministry. Harry's out of tune singing to himself had just gotten on her last nerve. Her morning discovery hadn't left her feeling particularly festive.

"Why aren't you?" He quipped, "this is our favorite time of year!"

She winced but said nothing.

He continued to lope alongside her, she was well aware that he could easily outpace her. And she knew his deference to her- using her title, slowing to walk at her side- wasn't even manufactured. His respect for her was genuine. He wanted her to succeed; as much as he'd been the hero, he'd always claimed that she was the star. So, he gamely answered her despite her attitude.

"The kids are home from Hogwarts today, it's my last day of work before Christmas, and my best friend is the most brilliant Minister we've ever had who knows how to kick arse and take names and lets me back her up while she does it," he gestured in the direction of the conference room they'd just departed, "what's not to be happy about?"

Despite herself and her own mood she smiled. His pride in her felt as good as a comforting hug. She was so lucky to have both of her best friends. Ron no longer worked at the Ministry; when Harry became Head of the DMLE and he was faced with either talking his own promotion which would have meant a desk job, or getting a new auror partner, he happily accepted his pension for his years of service and then bought into George's business. That hadn't kept him from being a very present part of her support system. He regularly threatened to test new products on her political enemies.

"So, are you going to tell me what's wrong?" Harry prompted, "I know it sucks that we got called into that meeting and missed picking up the kids from Kings Cross, but normally you'd still be bouncing off the walls to see them."

She looked around furtively, she needed to tell somebody and get her head on straight before she faced her husband.

"Let's go to my office."

He just nodded but his green eyes were wide, the effect magnified by his glasses. She didn't need to look at him, though, to know that she had shocked him. She was generally very strict about not discussing personal matters on government time.

When they reached the expansive space she activated every ward it possessed and then threw up a few privacy measures of her own. When she was done she spun around to face him, the expression on his face was almost comically incredulous. She knew it was probably overkill but she could not risk this conversation being overheard.

"I'm pregnant," she blurted.

There was a long pause.

"Merry Christmas to Malfoy," Harry eventually murmured.

She felt her eyes well up at his blasé response. Her heart began to race and she pressed a hand against her sternum in an attempt to keep herself from hyperventilating.

"Whoa, whoa, 'Mione, I was joking, I'm sorry," his strong arms surrounded her and she sank into his familiar embrace, "seriously, why are you so upset? I take it this is unexpected, but it's nothing you can't handle."

"I'm too old to have a baby!" She wailed, leaning heavily on him.

There was a beat of silence.

"Hermione, you're 41, that's not even too old for a muggle, and you're a witch, you have at least 20 more childbearing years. I know you thought you were done having kids, but you're not too old to do this."

She shook herself dramatically. "My oldest children are of age! They graduate Hogwarts next year, and I expect Adhara and James to tell us they're engaged any day now."

He made a sound of derision, "I hope I've raised James well enough that he will come to you and Draco for your blessing before he proposes," he countered.

"He doesn't need our permission, it's their decision," she insisted.

"I said blessing, not permission. And I'm still not seeing the problem, your children are all old enough now to be excited by the proposition of a baby instead of feeling like they are being usurped. And you can't possibly be worried about Malfoy's reaction, he'd happily fill that Manor with children. I can't believe I'm admitting this outloud, but the man was born to be a father, which is particularly impressive given the disastrous example he had."

"I thought you liked Lucius," she sniffed.

"I like him now, but you know as well as I do that he was a terror when we were kids. But speaking of Lucius, and Narcissa for that matter, they'll probably try to buy you a small country or something as thanks for giving them another grandchild. Three was already beyond their imagination."

"I just- I'm afraid, Harry. My pregnancy with the twins was so hard, and I'm so much older now."

"But your pregnancy with Caelum was perfectly normal," he countered comfortingly, "it was the twin aspect that complicated things, the chance of that happening again…"

"I wasn't Minister then," she responded miserably.

She could almost hear the pieces click into place in Harry's brain.

"Is that what you're worried about, your job?" He asked as he soothingly ran a hand up and down her back.

"Does that make me a terrible person!?" She sobbed, "this just wasn't in the cards, and we both know that I'm already too young, too female, and mostly too muggleborn to be Minister, only the fact that I'm a Malfoy appeased certain factions. But pregnant? I'll be ousted before I give birth, and I still have so much I want to accomplish, I've barely started!"

"No, no, that doesn't make you a terrible person at all. You've worked so hard to get here, it's completely understandable that you would be concerned. Hermione, before you panic completely, I have to ask, are you even sure?"

"Sure?"

"That you're pregnant," he clarified.

"I did a muggle test, they were right about my other two pregnancies."

"But they can be wrong. The charm is infallible and I don't think I'm wrong in assuming that you didn't want to tell anybody about this, so you haven't had anybody to cast it for you."

There was a long pause.

"Are you offering?"

"If you'd like, I've done it a time or two," he joked with a quirk of his lips.

She knew of at least four times, in fact: with his own wife's three pregnancies, as well as her first. She'd come to him on that occasion almost as hysterical as she was now. That pregnancy had been wanted and planned for, but when the reality of it had hit she had panicked. Not-so-many-years post war and she'd been terrified about how her children as half-blood Malfoys, would be treated. Harry, himself a newly expectant father at the time, had calmed her and helped her confirm the pregnancy.

Not that she didn't already trust him completely, but there was something about the particular expression on his face, along with those familiar green eyes and mussed hair, which made him look so childlike, even at forty, that helped settle her soul. And she suddenly realized that this conversation wasn't happening by chance, she'd subconsciously sought him out, and then baited him into this discussion with her snappy mood, because she had needed him, as her best friend, at this moment.

"Go ahead," she said, closing her eyes, "I can't look," there was a long pause, she grew anxious but didn't dare open her eyes. "Harry?" She prompted.

"It's negative."

Her eyes flew open and she stared at him in disbelief. She'd been so sure. She had been too busy to realize that she'd missed her period, but when she started experiencing other symptoms and thought about it, she realized it had been something like eight weeks since she'd had one.

"Oh," she said as her heart sank, "well that's good then, I mean, that's what I wanted."

She took a deep breath, bit her lip and blinked away her tears even as he reached for her, she batted him away.

But against the unexpected blow it was pointless; those tears began to stream down her cheeks. She turned her face away from Harry and tried to wipe at them discreetly.

"You're disappointed," he observed gravely.

"I shouldn't be," she gulped in a deep shuddering breath, "what in Godric's name is the matter with me?! I was just standing here crying all over you because I was pregnant and now…" she trailed off and threw her arms around him, sobbing into his neck.

"Hermione?"

"Hmmm?" She snuffled.

"I'm really sorry."

"It's not your fault Harry, thank you for listening," she answered in a small voice.

"I will always be here for you, no matter what, you don't need to thank me for that. But I do need to apologize, because I lied."

Something in her brain stuttered to a halt.

"What do you mean?" She asked, because she was incapable of processing this confession accurately; Harry didn't lie to her.

She felt him take a fortifying breath and subconsciously braced herself.

"I lied when I said that the charm was negative, that you weren't pregnant," he confessed.

Her breath caught on a sob, "what did you just say?" Unconsciously she was balling her hands into fists.

"I said I lied, it was positive. You're having a baby," he admitted.

For a moment everything stopped, and then she clapped one hand over her mouth and started beating his chest with the other.

It was literally the only time in their entire relationship that she didn't care whether she was hurting this wizard or not.

"Harry James Potter, how dare you do that to me!" She screeched, tears falling freely down her face.

He let her hit him, didn't even try to fight her, and she quickly ran out of energy. She'd been regurgitating nearly everything she'd eaten lately, after all. When she tired she melted against his chest, trusting him to hold her up.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he murmured, rubbing her back.

"Seriously Harry, that was mean," she huffed.

"I know it was," he said on a sigh, "but I thought it was kinder than weeks of indecision."

"What is that supposed to mean?" She jerked her head back and glared at him.

"It means that I know you, and I know that you would have agonized for weeks about this and how you're going to handle it. You would have worried your kids and Malfoy as you tried to come to terms with this. You would have worn yourself thin."

"Don't you think that was a risky plan? What if I had been relieved?"

"No," he countered firmly. "Like I said, I know you, you can't help but overthink just about everything, but deep down, when that stick turned blue- or whatever exactly happens with muggle pregnancy tests, the commercials are kind of unclear- you were imagining a brand new blond baby, and making alphabetical lists of possible constellation names in your head. And you were thrilled, whether you knew it or not. So I decided to show you how much you wanted this. You may not have planned for it, but the moment it became a reality to you, you were fully onboard."

Her head fell to his chest once again, "the list wasn't alphabetical," she huffed indignantly, "it was contingent on how much I like the name," she looked up at him with a glorious smile. "I love him, but no matter how determined my husband is, we will never have a child called Scorpius,"

He laughed, loudly.

The relief, oh the relief.

Her best friend was magical. Figuratively and literally. She hugged him about the waist again. "Thank you Harry," she breathed gratefully.

"No thanks needed, a new godchild is plenty," he winked and adjusted his glasses.

"How do you know you'll be godfather?" She narrowed her eyes indignantly.

"Oh please, who else would you ask," he scoffed, and then bent at the waist and looked at her belly. "Hello in there," he tapped her lightly, "I just want you to remember that out of everybody I, your godfather, am your favorite."

She giggled at his antics and pulled him upright. "Come on, we both have families waiting for us," she tugged him towards the Minister of Magic's private floo.

"Do you and Malfoy need a lesson in the contraceptive charm or something? As I remember, Caelum was somewhat of a surprise as well."

He meant to be teasing but it brought her up short.

"I was still breastfeeding the twins when Caelum was conceived, so I couldn't take the potion, and if you tell me you and Ginny always remembered the charm I call foul, I know how quickly in succession your children were born," she said haughtily.

"Touche," he said with an indulgent smile.

"I think I was late with my potion," she confessed guiltily. "I've just been so busy, usually I take it religiously but… Do you think Draco will be very angry?"

"Hermione," her name was spoken on a whisper as he took her back into his arms. "He's going to be thrilled. This wasn't a trick nor is it something you did on purpose. Though, if you'd wanted another child he'd have gladly given it to you. You have nothing to worry about."

She knew he was right, but it still felt like a betrayal, like a major life decision she'd made without her husband's permission. She was more responsible than this, and he'd already been so wonderful about her new job which took so much time away from them, how could she ask him for more?

"I think you've just got yourself a little Christmas miracle here," Harry continued, hugging her tight, "I was only joking."

She smiled tearfully at him and sighed in relief. But as much as she appreciated her best friend's love and support, she could no longer wait to see the wonderful man she'd married, she was -almost positive- that Harry was right and he'd be ecstatic.

"Thank you Harry," she sighed gratefully, "I'd like to go home now."

"Of course Hermione," he smiled thoughtfully, but then he stopped and turned suddenly, brushing a hand over her abdomen, over the place where her little miracle lay.

"Star of wonder," he said, meeting her eyes, joy painting his expression.

It was cheesy, but oddly appropriate, given Draco's family's naming tradition. And Harry, of all people, would appreciate a so-called miracle child. She brushed away a tear as he led her into the floo. She'd never be able to scold him for humming that particular song ever again.

Author's note: I won't deprive you of Draco's reaction, that will take place in the next and final installment of this little story which will be up in the next few days. Thanks for reading!