Hello again! I've had a few messages requesting a sequel to My Little Girl, so I'm working on that (yes it will probably be miserable, I don't like happy endings). Until then, however, this is a cross between a sequel for MLG and a prequel for the next one; Girl No More. The chapters are shorter but it tells the story of the characters lives between MLG and GNM, so I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer; I own nothing of HP. Wish I did, but I don't.

Year 1

She groaned in pure bliss as Bill's fingers ran over her bare skin, not caring that her husband was in the next room, thoughtless of her volume. "Just there..." She moaned, shivering slightly as his warm breath ghosted over her ear in a low chuckle. "Merlin Bill, don't stop..."
"'Mione love?" Ron's voice called as he exited the kitchen and viewed the situation with an irritated look. "Sore again?" He asked, attempted humour in his voice.
"You know how much I- mmm- need this..." She hummed in approval as Bill found a particularly sensitive spot.
"Do you want me to do your feet later?" The older man asked lightly, and she nodded slightly, turning in his arms to give him a grateful smile as he continued to massage her neck and shoulders. True, his hands on her skin made her remember other times that their naked flesh had touched, leading to the child now growing within her largely swollen stomach, but Ron was never to know that, and now she merely gleaned pleasure in his long fingers relaxing her tense muscles.
"Don't worry Bill, I'll do it." Ron said, slightly coolly, as he walked over and dropped a kiss on her forehead. "She is my wife after all." He and his brother had been passively hostile towards one another for over a year now, and Hermione, used to it, simply rolled her eyes at Ron's possessiveness. The icy atmosphere between the two had thawed slightly with the reappearance of Bill's wife and Hermione's eventual acceptance to date Ron, but whenever the pair were together the temperature in the room still seemed to drop a few degrees.

"Anyway, I was just wondering what you wanted for dinner, 'Mione?" Ron asked, smiling innocently at her.
She hummed in thought as Bill, though clearly slightly irritated by his brother's claim of ownership over her, returned to easing the stress from her muscles. "Peanut butter and pepperoni sandwiches." She decided finally, scowling when the hands behind her stopped their work and her husband frowned at her. "What?"
"Peanut butter and pepperoni?" Ron repeated slowly.
"You don't even like peanut butter." Bill added from behind her.
"I know I don't like it." She snapped, irritated all of a sudden. "It's not me that wants it, it's this bloody baby you put in me." She called to the room in general.
"But with pepperoni? That's just disgusting 'Mione." Ron replied, wrinkling his nose to emphasise his point.
To the two men's absolute horror, tears began to well in her eyes and she jumped up from her spot of the sofa, or rather, pushed herself up with Bill's assistance and much cursing of her enlarged midsection. "As if you can have a go at me for wanting to eat something, Ronald Weasley! You're always shovelling food down your throat you insensitive," She shoved his shoulder, "irritating," shove, "unbearable arse!"
Ron was now backed against the wall, looking in terror at his crying, angry wife, and as he edged around her form towards the door, he quickly muttered, "Right, peanut butter and pepperoni, I'll go and get them now."

Still heaving slightly, Hermione watched as he slipped out of the door, and upon hearing him mutter about mood swings, screamed, "I heard that!" She turned to see Bill with a small smile on his face, eyes twinkling at her. "What are you smiling at?" She asked moodily, stomping to the kitchen and pouring herself a glass of pumpkin juice. "I mean it's not my fault I'm craving weird things." She complained to the wall in front of her. "Just like it's not my fault I've become so fat, or so disgusting..." She trailed off as she furiously wiped away the tears pouring down her cheeks.

She felt Bill move behind her and wrap his hands around her belly, just as he had done seven months ago, though she was considerably flatter then. "You're not fat," He murmured, resting his chin on her shoulder so their cheeks touched, his breath tickling her ear, "and you're definitely not disgusting. You're beautiful." The mood changed as she leant into him slightly, and he pressed his lips softly against her soft skin. "You must be due soon, right?" He whispered, pressing his hands against her stomach and rubbing softly, smiling as the baby inside seemed to feel him and kicked out.
"Yes, any day now." She replied lowly, unable to stop the shiver of contentment and desire she felt at his closeness. She had done her best to avoid being alone with him in situations like this, knowing that, especially with the raging hormones caused by holding his child, she would find it nearly impossible to throw herself into his arms and kiss him until the world seemed to make sense again. "I've been going to the Healer appointments alone," She murmured, "and adding four weeks on to the due date; Ron's not expecting it to come until next month. Then again, maths isn't his strong suit, so..."
He gave a small, silent laugh, and tilted his head so their lips were mere centimetres away. "You can still change your mind." He whispered, sapphire eyes looking into hers imploringly. "I still want this baby with you, I still want us to be a family, I still love you."

He always said this, every time they found themselves alone together, but whether it was the closeness of the birth or the sheer earnestness in his eyes, she felt her usual arguments of their respective marriages, the rest of the Weasley clan and, most importantly, his daughter, die on her tongue. Her lips parted involuntarily, and her breath hitched as his eyes darted down to them and darkened, the intensity as they snapped back to her own brown ones making her resolve melt even more. Her body turned of its own accord, so they were face to face, and, though she could have sworn she told her hands to stay exactly where they were, one began to rise, unbidden, to touch his cheek. One of Bill's did the same to her, the other moving to the back of her neck to bury itself in her unruly curls, and they both began to lean forward, as if they were opposite ends of a magnet, until she could see each of his individual eyelashes, count the freckles that dotted his nose, feel his warm breath against her mouth. Her eyes flickered shut, the voice in her head called Reason having long ago shut up, and all she could think was that for the first time in over eight months she would feel Bill's lips against hers, feel the passion that always ignited between them burst into flame, feel the love they shared for one another finally-

"'Mione love, I'm back!" She jumped back as if she'd received an electric shock, banging her hip on the counter as she did and swearing loudly. "What's wrong?" Ron asked as he entered to find her rubbing her hip and looking very uncomfortable, whilst Bill appeared to be looking for something in the cupboards. "What are you both doing in here?"
"Looking for a glass."
"Getting a drink."
They replied at the same time, Bill having vanished the previous cup when he had heard his brother return. Ron shrugged at the explanation, and frowned at his wife. "Did you hurt yourself darling?" She nodded and, continued to rub her hip, forcing a smile when he pecked her lightly on the lips. "Well I got the pepperoni and peanut butter, so why don't you go sit down and I'll bring a few sandwiches through?"
"Thanks Ron." She replied, her smile more genuine.
"And I'm sorry about before, I don't want us to argue." He added as an afterthought, and she gave him a swift hug before walking (she did not waddle, not matter how much Ginny teased her) back through to the lounge. "Shouldn't you be getting home Bill?" Ron asked, his look a bit too innocent and his tone a bit too insistent to make it an option. Bill merely smirked before calling a goodbye to Hermione, and flooing back to his hated wife and beloved daughter.