I decided that this one was a bit long to really be a one shot, so have split it into two chapters - I will post the second chapter tomorrow.
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Hope you all like this one...please let me know!
Chapter One
Ron's blue eyes glared into my own brown, unwavering with fierce determination as he folded his arms across his chest and slowly raised one eyebrow, neither of us prepared to back down from this stand off.
"Please?" I tried again, my voice softer and this time throwing in a little pout – using most of my tried and tested weapons against him. Only tears left and I knew I'd have him in the palm of my hand.
He sighed. "I said no, Hermione."
"But -" I huffed, "- I'm going to go insane just sat here with nothing to do!" I half wailed, throwing my hands in the air.
"You're supposed to relax, keep off your feet and avoid stress." He unnecessarily reminded me.
"Honestly, it's not like I'm demanding to go back into the office yet. I just want you to pop into my office and get them to send me a few files home. I can sit right and read through them." I argued, hardly thinking that was a strenuous activity.
Ron inhaled deeply and sat down on the arm of the sofa by my head. "But I know you Hermione," he began, smoothly, running his fingers through my hair. "You'll read the files and worry about what's in them, then you'll start whittering about how no one else is capable of handling the situation and then you'll get stressed about it all and your blood pressure will go up again. Didn't you hear what that Healer said?" He asked, knowing full well that I had heard her loud and clear.
"That was three days ago," I groaned. "I've done nothing but rest over the weekend. You've barely let me lift a finger. Ron, I need to…"
"No!" He held his hand up to stop me. "The only thing you need to do is rest! You fainted at work Hermione. Fainted! You were found passed out on the floor in your office. Do you have any idea how damn frightened I was? For you and our baby? What if that had happened whilst you were taking the floo or out alone somewhere? You are nine months pregnant, love, it's time to take things easy. You can't keep doing everything, thinking you're invincible."
I huffed loudly and rolled my eyes before folding my own arms across my chest. I'd heard the same rant from him all weekend – about how worried he'd been, how I needed to rest now and look after both myself and our unborn child. And I knew that he was right, I didn't want anything happening to our baby either. But I also knew I was going to go mental with nothing to do around the house until I gave birth.
Everything was ready, apart from her it seemed. The nursery had been decorated and furnished weeks ago – so I couldn't even entertain myself with preparing that. All our unborn daughter's new little outfits and blankets were washed and carefully folded – ready and waiting in her drawers. We had piles of nappies ready for use - lotions, powders and creams lined up waiting on the changing unit. Baby bottles in the cupboard for when I decided to stop breast feeding and everything a baby could possibly need in the first few months of life. Even her cot was made up, just waiting for her to arrive – the last piece in this puzzle.
Waiting was going to drive me quite mad with nothing to do, which is why I had been determined to work until as close to my due date as possible. Everyone thought I was mad, that I should relish the time to have a break and relax whilst I could. I know Ginny had given up work the moment she found out James was on the way – but her job had been somewhat dangerous and unsuitable for a pregnant lady – the baby would have been put at far too much risk in a highly competitive sport. My situation was entirely different – there was nothing dangerous about sitting in an office, after all.
But now, here I was, banned from working and ordered to rest just because of one stupid little fainting spell. I suppose I should be grateful, apart from some morning sickness in the early weeks, I had pretty much sailed through this pregnancy. But, now here I was, banished to the couch two whole weeks before the baby was even due. What was I supposed to do with myself?
Thinking he'd won this battle, he got up. "Now, your Mum said she'll pop over for lunch and keep you company." Ron began fussing with pillows behind my back whilst he summoned over a blanket.
"Ron! I'm not sick! Besides, it's far too warm for that!" I tossed it aside when it landed by my feet.
"Fine." He rolled his eyes when he thought I wasn't watching. "And I'll be home as soon as I can," he continued. "I wish I was able to stay home with you, but you know my paternity leave doesn't start until you're in labour. They won't let me go any earlier, I asked."
"Huh!" I sulked. All right for some! Nothing had to change for him, did it?
"Please Hermione -" he placed his hand on my huge belly protruding in front of me "-listen to me, the healers, our Mothers, Ginny...they know what they're talking about, love and you need to take things easier now. I don't want anything happening to either of you. Promise me?" He stared me down, sternly.
"I'm not an idiot Ronald!" I hissed. "I've read all the books. Fainting is not uncommon in pregnancy, besides my office was too warm that day," I insisted once more. "I am simply pregnant – something woman have been doing for thousands of years! I'm not an invalid, I am still capable of working and I certainly don't need a babysitter!"
Ron nodded patiently. "Office was too warm, huh? So I suppose the healer didn't find that your blood pressure was too high or anything?" he raised one knowing eyebrow. "I know you're frustrated love, I do. But, it's not forever and...if nothing else, do it for our little girl, please?"
"Fine," I sighed, reluctantly, thumping my arms down at my sides, giving in. "I shall be good and do what everyone says. And I'll also be very bored and if I want to be a complete bitch about it, I will!" I grumbled.
"That's my girl," he suppressed a grin as he kissed my forehead before checking his watch. "I'm gonna have to go. Do you have everything you need?" He looked around, noting the pile of books and my wand that he'd set close by. That morning's copy of the Daily Prophet, along with my quill for doing the puzzles and a box of tissues. The pot of tea he'd made me along with the plate of biscuits in case I got peckish. He was folding the blanket again and draped it over the sofa. "Just in case," he muttered.
"I am a witch, aren't I?" I asked him. "I can summon anything I need," I waved my wand at him. "Though I hope you don't expect me to use magical means of going to the toilet?"
He laughed. "I think you're allowed to move to go to the loo," he smirked. "I'd best be off. Your Mum should be here soon, and Ginny said she might pop over. I'll see you later," he smiled and dipped his head for another kiss.
I kissed him back, tugging him closer and making him grunt. "I'm sorry I'm such a grouch," I whispered when we parted. "I know you're just trying to look after us." I stroked my very pregnant bump.
"That I am," he kissed my lips once more and then another to my belly before straightening up. "And, I still love you, Ms grouchy!" he chuckled as I tossed one of the cushions at him.
He waved, still laughing as he climbed into the fireplace with a handful of floo powder. "See you later, love."
"Bye...I love you too. And bring me some damn work to do!" I shouted after him, not knowing if he'd even heard me, but also knowing he'd pretend he hadn't to prevent me from working. I slouched back on the sofa with a heavy sigh. "Well Rosie," I stroked a spot on my belly where a little foot was protruding. "Looks like it's just you and me. What are we supposed to do now?"
I made myself comfortable again, sorting out the cushions that Ron had messed about with. I drank some tea and I glanced through the headlines on the newspaper, then looked up at the clock on the mantelpiece. Great, he hadn't been gone five minutes and I was bored already! So, with a huff of air, I snatched one of the books up Ron had left out for me and settled down to read. At least they hadn't taken those away from me as well.
Four days later and I was going stir crazy! I can't remember a time when I'd been this idle with absolutely nothing to do and I hated it. I didn't think I would ever say it, but I was even fed up of reading! I knew that my Mum, Molly, Ginny and even Angelina all meant well when they popped in to see how I was doing and keep me company or entertained, but I honestly just felt as though they were checking up on me. As though Ron had told them to all make sure I was doing as I was told.
"Ron! You're home early!" Molly commented, looking up from her knitting as I dropped the book I had been reading to watch my husband climb over the grate, syphoning off the worst of the soot from his clothes.
"Yeah." He dropped his bag and cloak in a heap and came to sit beside me on the couch. "It's been a slow day and Harry offered to finish my paperwork off for me so I could get home to Hermione," he explained whilst leaning over and kissing my temple. "How have you been, love?" he wrapped an arm around me.
"The same," I shrugged with a weary sigh. "And fed up of sitting here doing nothing useful!"
Ron smiled patiently and gave me another kiss before sliding down on the sofa a little, getting more comfortable. "It will be worth it," he promised, rubbing my huge belly and grinning when he was rewarded with a kick from his unborn child.
"I keep trying to convince her to take up knitting," Molly piped up, finishing off her row. "I find it very relaxing and it will give her something to do. You could make a lovely blanket for the baby, dear. Or even a blanket for your own bed. Would be nice and warm and...for heavens sake Ronald, what is so funny?" She narrowed her eyes at her youngest son.
Ron had been fighting back laughter beside me, despite my jabbing him with my elbow to shut up.
"Sorry Mum, it's just...I remember Hermione's attempts at knitting, back in our fourth year! And...well, no baby of mine is going to have a woolly bladder for a blanket, or even a hat! Honestly, she was bloody useless at…"
I cut him off, smacking him on the head with the book I'd been reading.
"Ouch! Hermione!" He yelped, rubbing his head. "What was that for?"
"I wasn't amused," I folded my arms. "Stop making fun of me!"
"Sorry," he mumbled, but it was obvious he was choking back further laughter on the matter. "Anyway," he changed the subject, eyeing the book still in my hands suspiciously. "How was your day? Have you been feeling okay?"
"I already told you, fine!" I hissed between clenched teeth. How many times did I have to answer that question on a daily basis? "It's not as though I'm sick, is it? I'm just ordered to sit here and do nothing at all and be bored rigid all day as people fuss over me," I nudged him away. "I really wish this baby would just be born now and be done with it!" I glared at my stomach.
"Really?" Ron frowned. I don't think he could understand how someone could not like being told to put your feet up and take it easy. I know he'd milk it for as long as he could!
Molly chuckled. "I remember those last weeks," she smiled wistfully. "Wanting it to be over, but also not wanting to let go. You've kept this little baby all safe and warm for months and you're so scared about bringing them into this world with all it's dangers. But then you can't imagine another second of being this uncomfortable." she nodded. "I do empathise."
"Honestly, I'm just ready for the pregnancy to be over now." Hermione sighed. "I'm so tired of being pregnant and not being able to do anything!"
"Yeah, but..." Ron frowned again. "Everyone keeps telling me that everything changes when the baby is born anyway. Not like you can give birth and then get back to work the next day, is it?"
"I know that!" I hissed at him. "But at least I'll be able to go to the damn bathroom without people hovering over me!" I snapped at him.
Ron sighed and looked over at his Mum for some support.
She smiled as she began putting her knitting away. "Don't worry," she assured her son. "It's all very normal. I was awful to your father just before any of you lot were born. It just means the baby is probably going to come soon by the time the mother has had enough. And you have to understand Ron, women can get very uncomfortable when they're as big as Hermione is, and..."
"I...I'm not that big," I looked up, feeling mortified. "Am I?" I asked Ron.
"You're beautiful," he quickly replied and gave me a wide smile.
"I'm not, I'm disgusting, aren't I?" I wailed, barely able to see my own feet over my belly. "I'm huge and I feel like a bloody whale. Y...you must hate me!" I began to sob, having no control over anything right now.
Ron sighed as he gathered me into his arms. "You are anything but disgusting and I could never hate you, darling. I love you...all of you. You're just pregnant, keeping our baby warm," he cooed softly, rubbing my back as he held me. "I still think you're beautiful," he added.
"You...you're lying. You're just...s, saying that!" I mumbled between bouts of sobbing and hiccups.
"No I'm not. You're still the beautiful woman I married. And now you're having my baby...and I love it!" He promised, stroking his hand through my hair as he tried to comfort me. I missed the scowl he gave his Mum over my shoulder, blaming her for upsetting me.
At least he assumed she was to blame this time. Right now it could be anything that set me off. Just this morning it had been the fact he'd left the loo seat up and I needed to use it! I'd had tears over the bloody toilet! This was the one thing I truly hated about being pregnant...I wasn't in control of anything. And for someone who liked to plan things, to make lists and draw up charts, losing control was hard. Now I didn't even have any control over my emotions!
"Yes, well I think I should probably be heading off," Molly picked her knitting bag up and stood from the chair. "Your father will be wanting his tea soon," she added, busying herself by summoning her cloak from the hallway and fastening it. "I've left a casserole in the oven for your dinner. And, shall I see you tomorrow Hermione, love?"
"Oh, really...you don't have to." I pulled back from Ron, wiping my eyes on my sleeve. "I'll be perfectly fine."
"Nonsense. I can pop over. And your Mother will be here for lunch?" she inquired.
"Yes," I sighed.
The whole damn babysitting service will be in action once again. I was becoming resigned to the fact this was just how things were going to be until the baby was born now. And even after she'd arrived I expect people would be popping in to see how we were and peak at the baby. Would we ever get a moments peace again?
"I'll see you tomorrow then," I gave in, watching as Ron said his goodbyes and she headed back to The Burrow.
"What's for dinner?" Ron grumbled, slinging his cloak across the armchair and stomping towards the kitchen, kicking his boots off as he went.
"I don't know!" I called after him. Really, a hello would have been nice! He was home late, so late that I had fallen asleep on the sofa and Molly had left hours ago.
"What do you mean you don't know?" he poked his head back into the lounge. "Didn't Mum leave us anything? Haven't you eaten?"
"In case you didn't notice, I had fallen asleep. And no, Molly had to get back early as Percy was going over there for dinner."
"Well, that's just great!" he threw his arms into the air. "I'm bloody starving and totally knackered. I've barely stopped all damn day. And now I have to find us something to eat," he continued grumbling, banging and crashing around in the kitchen.
I waddled through to the kitchen myself, intent on keeping an eye on him, sensing his bad mood. I sat down heavily at the table and rubbed my back – carrying this load around was becoming an effort and a half. "I would fix us something, but no one will let me," I reminded him.
He slammed the fridge shut. "I'm not expecting you to make me something. But I thought Mum might or at least go shopping for us – there's hardly any food in the house!" He slammed another cupboard door closed.
"Well, you know what you can do then, don't you?" I snapped, annoyed now with his tantrum. He turned to look at me, his face like thunder. "You can just move back home with Mummy and then she can look after you all the damn time!" I snapped, hauling myself out of the chair again and waddling back into the lounge.
"That's not what I meant!" he yelled after me.
"Well, since I'm so incapable of being a decent wife!"
"Hermione," he groaned, chasing after me. "I didn't mean. I know you can't. Look, it doesn't matter! I'm just tired and hungry and all week Mum has been making things for us and now she hasn't. I got used to it, that's all!" He sat down on the sofa. "I know you can't be doing much right now, you have to take things easy for you and the baby." He reached over to touch my belly and I shoved him off me.
"Save it! I have heard all that before!" I muttered.
"Then stop yelling at me!"
"You started it, you idiot!"
"Idiot? Oh that's nice! I've been out working all day and come home to my wife calling me an idiot! Lovely that is."
"Stop being so damn childish Ronald!" I threw the cushion at him and then inexplicably, burst into tears.
Ron groaned, sounding very tired and weary. "Bloody mood swings are going to kill me!" he muttered to himself. But I still heard.
"I don't know why you put up with me then!" I sniffed. "Maybe you should go back to Mummy!"
He paused, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I want to be with you, not my Mum. I'm sorry, it's just been a rough day."
"You don't have to come home and take it out on me," I mumbled, wiping my eyes on a tissue I found.
"I know, I'm sorry. I'll...I'll just try and find something for us to eat." He got up with a long, tired groan and traipsed back to the kitchen.
He returned a few minutes later with toasted cheese and tomato sandwiches for us both and ripped open a packet of crisps he'd found in the back of a cupboard somewhere, sharing them with me as he poured some onto my plate. He sat back with his own plate and yawned, stretching his feet out on the table in front of him and ate slowly.
"Thank you," I smiled at him, before taking a bite of my own food.
He offered me a weak, lazy smile and lay his head back on the sofa cushion, his food still in his lap. I felt horrible then, it was obvious how utterly exhausted he was and I knew he hadn't meant any of what he'd said as an insult. Ron was just like a troll with a sore head when he was hungry, and couple that with being tired, he could be temporarily horrid. I wished I was able to help more, that I wasn't confined to bed rest and I felt useless all over again.
"I'm sorry," I sniffed, abandoning my own half eaten food to lay my head on his shoulder and curl an arm around him. "I know I'm a useless moody bitch right now and I'm sorry for what I said." I kissed his neck.
He sighed softly and pulled his arm from beneath me, wrapping it around me too. "I'm sorry I snapped." he returned. "I was just expecting to come home to a nice hot meal and then go to bed. Not your fault, love," he turned and kissed the top of my head.
"I'm sorry you had a bad day too. I missed you," I whimpered, feeling the tears return. "I was lonely and, I just…I need you so much Ron," I sniffed.
"Why are you crying now?" he asked, trying to be patient.
"I don't know," I mumbled, shaking my head. "I just, I feel useless and I'm such a bitch to you, but I do love you. I miss you all day and I hate being stuck here without you. I'm sorry I take it out on you. Please don't leave me," I begged, clinging to his body now.
He gave a rather disbelieving weird grunt. "What the bloody hell are you on about? I'm not going anywhere! We argued - that's what we do! Merlin, woman," he shook his head and ate some more of his food.
"I'm just...I'm sorry. I hate being like this and I love you."
"I know. I love you too," he said softly patting my arm. "Now, stop being silly about this and eat up so we can go to bed." he smiled
I nodded and wiped my tears up again, giving him a rather wet smile as I ate my sandwich in silence. Ron got up to fetch us both a glass of milk, but I heard him mutter something about bloody pregnancy hormones being the death of him!
Thankfully, the following day was a Saturday and it was his weekend off, so he could have a lie in and we shouldn't be bothered by well meaning babysitters. I was willing this baby to be born now, this weekend, so as it didn't come at some inconvenient time where he was on a mission or snowed under at work. But, our daughter had other ideas and stayed nice and cosy right where she was. Ron got some shopping done later that day and even did a bit of housework – although between our Mother's, the house was fairly tidy.
Sunday however, was our one day to totally relax together. After waking and having a long, lazy snuggle in bed, Ron crept downstairs whilst I waddled to use the bathroom. He returned minutes later with tea and toast for us both and that morning's copy of the Sunday Prophet tucked under his arm. Mind you, once he'd glanced at the sports headlines and read his favourite comics, he lost interest in the newspaper and became much more entranced with watching the movements of my belly. Amusing himself with balancing a piece of toast on top and watching the baby kicking it off!
Eating the last bite of his toast, Ron rolled onto his front, shuffled down the bed and propped his chin up in the palm of his hand. His other hand had pushed the bedsheets aside and slipped my nightgown up over my bump, towering above him.
"Morning sweet girl," he pressed his lips against my belly. "Hope you're being a good girl for your Mummy," he added, smoothing a hand over the taut skin.
This had recently become a frequent occurrence, Ron having a little chat with his unborn daughter, showering my pregnant belly with kisses and caresses indulgently. I found it somewhat sweet and endearing, though a little annoying at times when I needed to be getting on with something and he wanted me to lay still so he could finish his one sided conversation.
"You know," I put the newspaper down and picked up my tea, "you could have a word with your daughter about getting a move on and getting out of there! I'm afraid her length of stay has expired and she's about to be evicted." I chuckled lightly, reaching down to scratch the soft ginger locks above his ear.
"Did you hear that little one? Mummy wants you to come out now," he smiled up at me. "I think really she's just excited about meeting you," he added in a loud stage whisper.
"Of course I am. I can't wait to see what she looks like and hold her in my arms. But I also want this damn pregnancy over with. I'm so tired of being fat and uncomfortable." I sighed, setting my cup down again.
"You're beautiful," Ron added, his automatic response now whenever I put myself down. He kissed my bump again, just as his daughter kicked and bumped his nose, making us both chuckle.
"Whilst you're down there, make yourself useful and rub some of this in." I handed him the jar from the bedside table. A cream that his Mother had whipped up for me that was supposed to prevent stretch marks – she and every women to have birthed a Weasley baby, swore by it.
As he began rubbing the cream into my skin, I went back to my perusal of the newspaper - even if I couldn't actually be a part of the community right now, I still wanted to know what was going on in our world. Ron's hands felt good on my skin and the baby was enjoying the touch too – kicking away and flipping inside me – obviously no intention of wanting to be born any time soon.
But then I felt his hands go a little higher under my nightgown and caress a currently engorged breast – the thing Ron loved most about my pregnant body – much bigger boobs! I cleared my throat and lowered the corner of the paper to meet his eye, arching one eyebrow.
He did it again, this time giving me a wiggle of his own eyebrows and that naughty little smirk on his face.
"I don't think so!" I pushed his hand back down and tossed the newspaper aside, smoothing my clothing back over my body.
"Aaw, come on love. It's been ages," he whined, a sour look now gracing his face.
"Yeah? Well get used to it, because after she's born it's going to be months before I let you back down there. If ever!" I warned him.
"What?" he stared at me, open mouthed – a complete look of horror.
"You heard!" I rolled my eyes and pulled the sheets back up.
"But, George told me something about sex inducing labour. So, if you really want this over with..." he winked suggestively.
"Ron," I sighed. "I can barely get out of bed right now without your help. I can't even roll over any more. If you honestly think I feel remotely sexy and want to be making love, you're insane!"
He groaned and rolled onto his back, his hands covering his face, clearly disappointed and maybe just a bit sexually frustrated. "Well, there's other stuff we can do. We don't have to have full sex." His face brightened just a little at that thought as he peered at me again.
"Dream on Weasley!"
He thumped the mattress beneath him. "This is so unfair. I have needs!" he wailed.
"Then I suggest you go take a nice cold shower and...work things out yourself!" I smiled, fighting back the urge to laugh at the pathetic look on his face.
He grunted something and sat up on the edge of the bed, clearly contemplating my suggestion. Finally, after running his hands through his hair, he stood from the bed and stomped his way into the bathroom, muttering something along the lines of how he was never knocking me up again!
The following week passed much in the same way – Ron busy working all hours, family popping in to keep me company and my mood swings almost giving my poor husband whiplash with the speed they changed! My due date came and went, but Rose seemed perfectly content to stay right where she was, with no intention of moving. Everyone tried to reassure me that it was perfectly normal for a first baby to be late and Molly joked that she must take after her Daddy in being rather laid back and enjoying the warm and cosy nest she'd created for herself.
I, personally, was more than ready to get on with this.
Chapter two tomorrow - promise!
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