A/N: This is set three years after Wedding March. You don't have to read it to understand this story, but if you're going to read it, read it before you read this. Got it? Good. Bon appetite!
It was raining outside. The water beat down heavily on the roof of the London apartment building, creating a noise that could wake the dead. Distant thundering could be heard; the rumbling making a background rhythm for the rain. Gazing out the window was an absolutely pointless act; one could not see three feet from the glass through the pouring skies. The night was a dreary, depressing one, especially for an early fall evening; it wasn't a violent enough storm to be exciting, or a light enough one to be shrugged off with ease. It was the type of evening when one sat on the couch, gorged on fat-free potato chips and ice cream, and watched the television, attempting to forget the grief and burdens of the world that were reinforced by the rain. They were trying to ignore how the world was shouting, screaming about how they had screwed up their lives, how miserable and lonely the human race is, including themselves.
Harry sat on his couch in his small apartment; his head bowed in silent prayer. His wife of three years, Hermione, was arriving from South America that night after being there for a week on business. That was the longest they had been apart since they had married on a faithful night in May in Las Vegas. He missed her so much that his stomach hurt and his heart fluttered with the thought that, in less than an hour, he would see her again. He fingered a framed picture of the two of them that had been taken a year ago; they had gone on a vacation to Florida and were dressed in board shorts and T-shirts, sipping virgin strawberry daiquiris. Please come home, he thought as he looked out the window once more. The weather was dangerous to be out in, and adding in the average drunk drivers for the late hour of the night, it would have been a very perilous night to drive in. She was taking a taxi home, as she didn't want Harry coming to get her and getting them both killed (he was a bit of a poor driver), but Harry didn't trust anyone driving except his Hermione. Please come home, he prayed.
He thought of his interesting past with Hermione. They had eloped the night of her intended marriage to David Mercenary, who was dumped at the alter by Hermione, thanks to a small prank the Weasley twins pulled on her. After Harry and Hermione's marriage, they moved out of the lavish flat they shared with Ron Weasley and Marguerite (Maggie) Chabert, and had moved into the smaller apartment three blocks away in which they were living in now. Ginny Weasley and her friend Hannah Abbott then moved into the apartment, making Ron the lone male. He didn't mind, in fact, Ron adored the attention given to him by his female roommates, at least until he started dating one of them.
To pass the time until Hermione arrived home, he listened to the sounds of the families in the adjacent flats. There were a great many wizards in the apartment building, mostly because it was a block from Diagon Ally. Harry heard the family in the flat to his right preparing dinner. They were all laughing, and seemed so happy. In their three years of marriage, Harry and Hermione had rarely talked about having a family and children, but Harry wanted it more than anything. Even when he was young, he had always wanted to have a family and have children when he 'grew up'; now that he was an adult it seemed proper to change his fantasy into reality. He had the wife of his dreams; he wanted have children with her. He had never really had a family, as his parents were dead and he never considered the Dursleys his family; they were merely the people he lived with. He wanted children so badly; he wanted the type of warm, loving household he was so jealous of Ron for having. He knew that Hermione would most likely faint at the idea of having seven children, but Harry didn't see how perhaps having two or three would be so preposterous.
In the flat to Harry's left were the sounds of an old woman yelling at her teenage son to 'turn that awful crap down!' Harry smirked at the woman's words, but his smile quickly faded when he realized that that might be the reason of Hermione not really warming up to the idea of a family. She doesn't want to turn into that, Harry thought. She doesn't want to screw up and turn into someone less than desirable. Harry shook the image from his head of Hermione screaming at their teenage child to turn his music down. She would never do that, he concluded. Hermione was much 'cooler' than that.
The noises coming from the apartment above his head was of two lovers, well, 'getting it on.' Harry grinned slyly at the sound. He wondered when he got older, conservative, and cynical(much like his neighbor who lived below him, Bob Middle), if he would resent the noise. 'In my day,' he'd croon, 'We didn't do that stuff. We reproduced by fission and mitosis!' Harry chuckled in the memory of Bob screaming the same speech at him and Hermione one morning when they had been a bit too loud the night before. Harry had been surprised at how easily Hermione had laughed that off; she was really loosening up. Harry laughed even harder at the remembrance of how Bob had threatened to beat them over the head with his baseball bat if they did it again. Bob's warnings were as empty as his brain; they had done it again, to no further real actions from Bob.
"What's so funny?" a voice came from behind him. Harry spun around and saw that he was face to face with a very pretty and very tanned woman dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, his wife. Relief flew through him; she was here and in one piece. Harry smiled and walked over to her.
"Hey," Harry greeted her. "You're home."
"Well, someone's smart," she joked. "Yes, I'm home! Thank god! That taxi driver went about twenty miles an hour! I really wish I had gone into the bathroom and just apperated home, but no, I had to ride in the taxi."
"Hermione," he whispered as he leaned in and kissed her. Three years into their relationship, and they still had all the passion they did before. "Sorry," he whispered after the kiss had been broken. "I was just waiting a week to that. It's very painful being away from you."
Hermione grinned. "I've missed you too," she said as she hugged him. "How have you been? I know I haven't owled you since Tuesday."
Harry put his arm around her. "I know. It's a bit of a distance for Hedwig to fly, no isn't it?"
"Yes, it is. He did it once; I doubt he's ready to do it again. I wish I had found a fellyphone, no telephone, ugh, I've been hanging around Ron for WAY too long; if I had found one, believe me, I would have called you."
"No telephones?"
She smiled. "No, no telephones amidst the Amazon. How is everyone?"
Harry grinned. "Well, neighbor Bob threatened to chain-saw fellow neighbor Susie and her paramour Matt if they didn't shut up." He pointed to the ceiling, referring to the couple who lived in the flat above.
"He didn't!" Hermione laughed.
"He did! I swear!"
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Someone needs to get rid of that guy. I'm sorry, that's just sad."
"It is," Harry agreed. "In fact, they're going at it now."
"Bob's going to have a cow," Hermione said.
Harry nodded. He put his arms around Hermione's waist. "Hey, do you want to piss off Bob even more?"
Hermione smacked him. "Get your mind out of the gutter! I swear, you have the hormones of a teenager."
"Is that a yes?"
Hermione pouted. "What about my luggage? I have to unpack!"
"We'll do that later," Harry told her.
She laughed and looked down. "God, what is your problem?"
"It's that I'm in love you, but I'd hardly consider that a problem," Harry whispered.
She looked down at her luggage, then back at Harry. "I love you too." She smiled and hugged him again. "Oh, it's good to be home."
***
"Do you hear something?" Hermione whispered, sitting upright in their bed.
"Herm, it's three o'clock in the morning, and I just got to sleep. It's nothing."
"Harry!" Hermione chastised. "It was like a lock clicking or something."
"Hermione," Harry whined. "It's-" he stopped suddenly at the sound of a loud crash in the living room. "Shit."
"Oh my god."
"Stay here, ok? I'll go see what it was."
Hermione shook her head. "There is no way in hell I'll letting you go out there without me!" She slid out of bed and wrapped a robe around her nightgown. "I'm going too."
"Stay here!" Harry whispered loudly.
Hermione walked over to him. She was at least six inches shorter than him, but at the moment, it was obvious who was the boss. "Ok, ok," Harry whispered. "Sorry."
"Let's go," she said as she grabbed their wands. She took a few tentative steps toward the living room. It was pitch black in there, and it was hard to see where one was going. In the hallway, Harry ran into the end table. "Are you ok?" Hermione whispered.
"Ouch. Yeah, I guess." Harry put a hand on Hermione's back as they slowly entered the living room.
Hermione gasped at what she saw. There was a silhouette of a tall person, obviously a man, running his hands on various objects in the dark room. He had a long nose and very long legs. Hermione's eyes ran across the room to see the broken object that had caused the loud crash which the couple had heard from their bedroom. It was a lamp, the one which Hermione had bought two weeks after her graduation from Hogwarts and had ever since. A rage flowed through Hermione's body; an anger directed at this intruder who had not only broken into her home, who had broken Hermione's favorite lamp. It was petty, sure, but the anger was better than the extreme fear that had filled her a few minutes ago. "Expelliarmus!" she screamed. The silhouette flew back against the wall, uttering a cry that she subconsciously recognized.
Harry fumbled against the wall to find a light switch. "Goddammit," he murmured. He finally found it, for light invaded the room and felt like a slap in the face. Hermione had to look away at first, then she felt her eyes slowly adjusting to the bright light of the room. Her eyes fell on the intruder, and she gasped again.
"Oh, Ron!" she cried, running to his side. "Are you ok? I'm so sorry, but, you shouldn't have done that! Have you not heard of doorbells? You gave us a fright!"
"Hey, are you ok?" Harry asked, crouching next to his friend.
Ron turned his face toward them, and one could easily notice how bloodshot his eyes were, and how red his face was. He had been crying. "I'm fine," he said, his voice trembling.
"What's wrong?" Hermione asked, placing a friendly hand on Ron's shoulder.
"Maggie and I broke up," Ron whispered.
"Dammit," Hermione whispered. Ron and Maggie had finally started dating a year after Harry and Hermione had married. Everyone was happy at their union (except Colin Creevy, who was still madly in love with Maggie, and always had been), and was ecstatic when Ron proposed to her three months before. Especially happy about the arrangement was Ginny, Maggie's best friend, who was constantly saying that she 'would finally get a sister.' Hermione helped Ron to the couch, gently, trying not to touch where he had hit the wall when she had disarmed him.
"What happened?" Harry inquired.
Ron sniffed. "Oh, god! It was so stupid! It was maybe eleven o'clock, and we were, well, you know." Harry nodded and Hermione stifled a giggle. "Do hush, Hermione. I have a very good idea that that's exactly what you and Harry were up to before I came."
Hermione blushed. "Sorry, go on."
Ron sighed and buried his face in his hands. "Well, we were talking about the wedding. She told me that she wanted Ginny to be the maid of honor. And I told her to go ahead, I mean she's my sister and all. We're doing a white and blue color scheme; they're Ginny's favorite colors-"
"Ron?" Harry interrupted.
"Yeah?"
"I hate to be rude, but do get on to the part where you two fought."
Ron glared at Harry, but continued. "We were talking about where we wanted to go on our honeymoon. She wanted to go to Hawaii; I wanted to go to Liverpool or somewhere."
"Liverpool? Oh Ron, that's so romantic," Hermione said sarcastically.
Ron sighed. "We really can't afford Hawaii. And anyway, how much do you really get out of the hotel room on the honeymoon? I mean, Harry, how much of Las Vegas did you actually see?"
Harry grinned. "The wedding chapel, and I think we went to Caesar's palace." He laughed. "You've got a point there; I don't think we got out of bed for the first three days." Hermione turned scarlet and smacked his shoulder. "What? We didn't!"
"You don't go and tell people that!" Hermione hissed.
"Anyway, back to my story!" Ron said loudly. "Well, we started fighting. I told her that about the hotel room, and she called me a hormone-crazed teenager and an immature little boy. I told her about the money problem, and she called me a cheap bastard."
"Well, you probably are being cheap," Hermione told him.
"Thanks, Herm," Ron said with a fake smile.
"No, really. I don't think you mean it, but I do think you are tight with money. I mean, you were poor growing up, so you have a natural tendency to save your money and not waste it on the small things," Hermione said.
"Like honeymoons."
"No Ron, not like honeymoons." Hermione bit her lip. "A honeymoon is a big deal, even if you don't do much. It's one of those things that the thought counts more than the actual thing."
Tears streamed down Ron's cheeks. "Well, I'll never get a chance to go on a honeymoon, now will I?"
"What are you talking about?" Harry exclaimed. "Just go and apologize."
Ron shook his head. "No, it's over. She threw this at my head." He extracted a diamond engagement ring out of his pocket.
"She broke an engagement over an argument about the honeymoon?" Hermione asked, shocked.
"No," Ron admitted. "I said a lot of things that I regret. I'm sure she said some things she regrets too. It wasn't just about the honeymoon; we argued about other things also."
"Like what?"
"Like you two," he said.
"What about us?" Harry asked incredulously, placing a protective arm around Hermione, who scooted closer to him.
Ron sighed. "Oh, about that entire David thing. She says that I acted immaturely in not telling Hermione how you felt." He snorted. "Immature my ass. It was your problem."
"Our problem?" Hermione inquired.
"That didn't come out the way I wanted it to. I didn't want to get in the middle of that love triangle."
"That's understandable," Hermione said. "Really, me, in a love triangle? I've thought that I've had a relatively uneventful love life. Guess I was wrong."
"Relatively uneventful love life?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.
Hermione buried her face in his shoulder. "Well, I've only had one boyfriend."
Harry shook his head. "No, two. Me and David."
Hermione laughed against his shoulder. "Actually, we never really went out. We were engaged, then married. We never really dated."
Harry pouted. "Well-"
"Ahem!" Ron cleared his throat. "Back to the discussion on hand!"
"Yes, sorry," Hermione apologized.
"Yeah, sorry," Harry said. "Please continue."
"That's pretty much it," Ron told them. "I can't believe I've just lost the woman I love to something as stupid as this."
"You haven't lost her!" Hermione cried. "Just go and apologize."
Harry nodded in agreement. "If you love her, go back and beg for forgiveness. I mean, get on your knees and beg for mercy."
Hermione grinned. "If she really loves you too, then she'll eventually come around. But nothing will happen if you don't, and you'll end up losing one of the most important things in your life."
Ron nodded. "I'll go there first thing in the morning. She's staying in the apartment."
"Where are you going to sleep tonight?" Harry asked.
Hermione shook her head in disbelief. "Harry, I swear, sometimes you are so dense," she whispered.
"What?"
Hermione grinned. "Ron, why don't you stay here tonight? You can stay in the guest bedroom."
"Thanks," Ron said. "If it's not too much trouble."
"Ron," Hermione scolded. "It's never too much trouble. You're our best friend." She reached over and hugged Ron. "Now, I'm going to bed!"
"Tired?" Ron suggested. "Or you just want to go back to the bedroom?" He raised his eyebrow at the last comment.
"The former," Hermione said. "I'm too tired to even think about the latter."
"Me too," Harry said. "Night, Ron."
"You know where everything is, right? Help yourself to anything that's in the kitchen," Hermione told Ron.
"Although there's nothing good in there," Harry admitted. "For the last week I've been living of cereal and macaroni and takeout. I only cook when I have someone to cook for."
Hermione smiled. "Which is good, because the most complicated thing I can cook is spaghetti O's. Heat and serve; that's my motto."
Ron laughed. "I love you guys."
"I love you too," Hermione said softly as she hugged Ron again. "I'm so sorry about everything. It'll all look better in the morning; I promise."
Harry put his hand on Ron's shoulder. "Everything will work out. Don't worry about it. Love you, man."
"Love you too, dude," Ron said jokingly, faking tears.
"Oh my god, this is so emotional!" Hermione exclaimed sarcastically.
"Shut up," Harry said.
"No, really! I mean this is really a breakthrough moment!"
"Come on," Harry said as he pushed her towards the bedroom. "Night Ron!"
"Night."
***
"Hermione?" Harry Potter whispered, laying down on his bed, staring up at the ceiling.
"What?"
"I love you."
Hermione smiled. "I love you too, sweetheart." She snuggled closer to him and he wrapped his arms around her. "I love you too," she muttered against the sleeve of his T-shirt.
"Hermione?"
"What?" came the slightly annoyed answer from the sleepy figure nestled against him.
"Do you want children?"
Hermione rolled over and looked at her husband. "Huh?"
"Do you want children?"
"That was a random question."
"I know," Harry admitted. "But, while I was waiting for you to come home tonight-"
"Uh huh."
Harry continued. "I was listening to the sounds of our neighbors in the apartments next to ours. On the right, I heard a family eating dinner."
"Probably the McGills. They have three children: two boys and a girl."
"Anyway, everything that happened sounded so warm and cozy and loving. I was just wondering if you picture us doing that. Sitting down to dinner with our kids and being a family."
"Harry," Hermione whined. "I'm trying to sleep."
Harry sighed. "I really want to know. Do you want children?"
"Do you mean now, or someday?" she asked.
"Either," he whispered.
"Well, maybe someday," she muttered.
"Maybe someday?"
She snorted. "You're really not going to let me sleep until we have this conversation, are you?"
"Nope," Harry said. "Just answer the question, please love?"
She sighed. "Harry, to tell you the truth-"
"Yes?"
"I don't really want children."
"What?" Harry exclaimed, surprised by her answer. How could she not want what he wanted most?
"You heard me. I don't really want children," Hermione said. "Can I go to sleep now?"
Harry ignored her last comment. "Why on earth do you not want kids?"
"Why not? Well, I've never really been one for diaper changes and one a.m. feedings and not sleeping a wink."
"You're dwelling on the negative things," Harry told her.
"Another thing is that I don't have time. I'm working -my career is going great- and I have you. That's all I need. I don't want children."
"You don't want a family?" Harry asked, still in shock and disbelief.
Hermione looked at him. "Not really. Why are you questioning that?"
Harry laid his head against the pillows. "No reason."
"Are you ok with that?" Hermione asked, propping herself up with an elbow so she could gaze into his tear-laced emerald green eyes. "Oh, sweetie, what's wrong?"
"Nothing," he said stuffily. "I'm fine."
"Are you ok with that?" she whispered, her voice softening.
"Ok with what?"
Hermione ran her fingers down his arm. "About not having children."
"I don't know," Harry said. "I don't know. I'm going to sleep. G'night."
She kissed his cheek. "Goodnight love." With that, she shut her eyes against the pillow and seemed to fall asleep instantly.
Harry couldn't fall asleep with the same ease. He tossed and turned for about an hour or so, with no result. He finally gave up and stared at the ceiling absent-mindedly. He noticed a crack in the ceiling, resembling a little bear. A teddy bear, he thought painfully. God, even my ceiling is telling me to have children. He turned on his side, facing his wife. He reached out and grabbed her hand. He ran his fingers over the lines and creases in her own palm, trying to remember every detail, every mark on her hand. Lightly kissing her fingertips, he closed his eyes and thought about the conversation they had just had. She's come around, Harry thought. We're only twenty five. We have plenty of time. Harry placed her hand down on the bed. "What if she doesn't come around?" he thought out loud. He shook the thoughts from his head. He didn't want to think about it; he wanted to sleep.
A/N: Less than twenty four hours and I will be a proud owner of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. Ohmygod! And if something in my story is proved horribly wrong in the fourth book, then this will be a Alternative Universe fic where book four didn't exist. Like if the person who died was Ginny or one of the twins, just pretend they're still alive. Ok? Ok! Hey, did you like? Please read and review; I need it! I think there will either be two or three more parts. This won't be near as long as Wedding March.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Ginny Weasley, Hannah Abbott, and Colin Creevy all belong to the wonderful J.K. Rowling. (We love you!)
Maggie Chabert, David Mercenary, Bob Middle, Susie and her paramour Matt, the McGills, the old woman and her teenage son all belong to me. I'll sell the old woman or Bob if anyone wants to buy them from me.
It was raining outside. The water beat down heavily on the roof of the London apartment building, creating a noise that could wake the dead. Distant thundering could be heard; the rumbling making a background rhythm for the rain. Gazing out the window was an absolutely pointless act; one could not see three feet from the glass through the pouring skies. The night was a dreary, depressing one, especially for an early fall evening; it wasn't a violent enough storm to be exciting, or a light enough one to be shrugged off with ease. It was the type of evening when one sat on the couch, gorged on fat-free potato chips and ice cream, and watched the television, attempting to forget the grief and burdens of the world that were reinforced by the rain. They were trying to ignore how the world was shouting, screaming about how they had screwed up their lives, how miserable and lonely the human race is, including themselves.
Harry sat on his couch in his small apartment; his head bowed in silent prayer. His wife of three years, Hermione, was arriving from South America that night after being there for a week on business. That was the longest they had been apart since they had married on a faithful night in May in Las Vegas. He missed her so much that his stomach hurt and his heart fluttered with the thought that, in less than an hour, he would see her again. He fingered a framed picture of the two of them that had been taken a year ago; they had gone on a vacation to Florida and were dressed in board shorts and T-shirts, sipping virgin strawberry daiquiris. Please come home, he thought as he looked out the window once more. The weather was dangerous to be out in, and adding in the average drunk drivers for the late hour of the night, it would have been a very perilous night to drive in. She was taking a taxi home, as she didn't want Harry coming to get her and getting them both killed (he was a bit of a poor driver), but Harry didn't trust anyone driving except his Hermione. Please come home, he prayed.
He thought of his interesting past with Hermione. They had eloped the night of her intended marriage to David Mercenary, who was dumped at the alter by Hermione, thanks to a small prank the Weasley twins pulled on her. After Harry and Hermione's marriage, they moved out of the lavish flat they shared with Ron Weasley and Marguerite (Maggie) Chabert, and had moved into the smaller apartment three blocks away in which they were living in now. Ginny Weasley and her friend Hannah Abbott then moved into the apartment, making Ron the lone male. He didn't mind, in fact, Ron adored the attention given to him by his female roommates, at least until he started dating one of them.
To pass the time until Hermione arrived home, he listened to the sounds of the families in the adjacent flats. There were a great many wizards in the apartment building, mostly because it was a block from Diagon Ally. Harry heard the family in the flat to his right preparing dinner. They were all laughing, and seemed so happy. In their three years of marriage, Harry and Hermione had rarely talked about having a family and children, but Harry wanted it more than anything. Even when he was young, he had always wanted to have a family and have children when he 'grew up'; now that he was an adult it seemed proper to change his fantasy into reality. He had the wife of his dreams; he wanted have children with her. He had never really had a family, as his parents were dead and he never considered the Dursleys his family; they were merely the people he lived with. He wanted children so badly; he wanted the type of warm, loving household he was so jealous of Ron for having. He knew that Hermione would most likely faint at the idea of having seven children, but Harry didn't see how perhaps having two or three would be so preposterous.
In the flat to Harry's left were the sounds of an old woman yelling at her teenage son to 'turn that awful crap down!' Harry smirked at the woman's words, but his smile quickly faded when he realized that that might be the reason of Hermione not really warming up to the idea of a family. She doesn't want to turn into that, Harry thought. She doesn't want to screw up and turn into someone less than desirable. Harry shook the image from his head of Hermione screaming at their teenage child to turn his music down. She would never do that, he concluded. Hermione was much 'cooler' than that.
The noises coming from the apartment above his head was of two lovers, well, 'getting it on.' Harry grinned slyly at the sound. He wondered when he got older, conservative, and cynical(much like his neighbor who lived below him, Bob Middle), if he would resent the noise. 'In my day,' he'd croon, 'We didn't do that stuff. We reproduced by fission and mitosis!' Harry chuckled in the memory of Bob screaming the same speech at him and Hermione one morning when they had been a bit too loud the night before. Harry had been surprised at how easily Hermione had laughed that off; she was really loosening up. Harry laughed even harder at the remembrance of how Bob had threatened to beat them over the head with his baseball bat if they did it again. Bob's warnings were as empty as his brain; they had done it again, to no further real actions from Bob.
"What's so funny?" a voice came from behind him. Harry spun around and saw that he was face to face with a very pretty and very tanned woman dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, his wife. Relief flew through him; she was here and in one piece. Harry smiled and walked over to her.
"Hey," Harry greeted her. "You're home."
"Well, someone's smart," she joked. "Yes, I'm home! Thank god! That taxi driver went about twenty miles an hour! I really wish I had gone into the bathroom and just apperated home, but no, I had to ride in the taxi."
"Hermione," he whispered as he leaned in and kissed her. Three years into their relationship, and they still had all the passion they did before. "Sorry," he whispered after the kiss had been broken. "I was just waiting a week to that. It's very painful being away from you."
Hermione grinned. "I've missed you too," she said as she hugged him. "How have you been? I know I haven't owled you since Tuesday."
Harry put his arm around her. "I know. It's a bit of a distance for Hedwig to fly, no isn't it?"
"Yes, it is. He did it once; I doubt he's ready to do it again. I wish I had found a fellyphone, no telephone, ugh, I've been hanging around Ron for WAY too long; if I had found one, believe me, I would have called you."
"No telephones?"
She smiled. "No, no telephones amidst the Amazon. How is everyone?"
Harry grinned. "Well, neighbor Bob threatened to chain-saw fellow neighbor Susie and her paramour Matt if they didn't shut up." He pointed to the ceiling, referring to the couple who lived in the flat above.
"He didn't!" Hermione laughed.
"He did! I swear!"
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Someone needs to get rid of that guy. I'm sorry, that's just sad."
"It is," Harry agreed. "In fact, they're going at it now."
"Bob's going to have a cow," Hermione said.
Harry nodded. He put his arms around Hermione's waist. "Hey, do you want to piss off Bob even more?"
Hermione smacked him. "Get your mind out of the gutter! I swear, you have the hormones of a teenager."
"Is that a yes?"
Hermione pouted. "What about my luggage? I have to unpack!"
"We'll do that later," Harry told her.
She laughed and looked down. "God, what is your problem?"
"It's that I'm in love you, but I'd hardly consider that a problem," Harry whispered.
She looked down at her luggage, then back at Harry. "I love you too." She smiled and hugged him again. "Oh, it's good to be home."
***
"Do you hear something?" Hermione whispered, sitting upright in their bed.
"Herm, it's three o'clock in the morning, and I just got to sleep. It's nothing."
"Harry!" Hermione chastised. "It was like a lock clicking or something."
"Hermione," Harry whined. "It's-" he stopped suddenly at the sound of a loud crash in the living room. "Shit."
"Oh my god."
"Stay here, ok? I'll go see what it was."
Hermione shook her head. "There is no way in hell I'll letting you go out there without me!" She slid out of bed and wrapped a robe around her nightgown. "I'm going too."
"Stay here!" Harry whispered loudly.
Hermione walked over to him. She was at least six inches shorter than him, but at the moment, it was obvious who was the boss. "Ok, ok," Harry whispered. "Sorry."
"Let's go," she said as she grabbed their wands. She took a few tentative steps toward the living room. It was pitch black in there, and it was hard to see where one was going. In the hallway, Harry ran into the end table. "Are you ok?" Hermione whispered.
"Ouch. Yeah, I guess." Harry put a hand on Hermione's back as they slowly entered the living room.
Hermione gasped at what she saw. There was a silhouette of a tall person, obviously a man, running his hands on various objects in the dark room. He had a long nose and very long legs. Hermione's eyes ran across the room to see the broken object that had caused the loud crash which the couple had heard from their bedroom. It was a lamp, the one which Hermione had bought two weeks after her graduation from Hogwarts and had ever since. A rage flowed through Hermione's body; an anger directed at this intruder who had not only broken into her home, who had broken Hermione's favorite lamp. It was petty, sure, but the anger was better than the extreme fear that had filled her a few minutes ago. "Expelliarmus!" she screamed. The silhouette flew back against the wall, uttering a cry that she subconsciously recognized.
Harry fumbled against the wall to find a light switch. "Goddammit," he murmured. He finally found it, for light invaded the room and felt like a slap in the face. Hermione had to look away at first, then she felt her eyes slowly adjusting to the bright light of the room. Her eyes fell on the intruder, and she gasped again.
"Oh, Ron!" she cried, running to his side. "Are you ok? I'm so sorry, but, you shouldn't have done that! Have you not heard of doorbells? You gave us a fright!"
"Hey, are you ok?" Harry asked, crouching next to his friend.
Ron turned his face toward them, and one could easily notice how bloodshot his eyes were, and how red his face was. He had been crying. "I'm fine," he said, his voice trembling.
"What's wrong?" Hermione asked, placing a friendly hand on Ron's shoulder.
"Maggie and I broke up," Ron whispered.
"Dammit," Hermione whispered. Ron and Maggie had finally started dating a year after Harry and Hermione had married. Everyone was happy at their union (except Colin Creevy, who was still madly in love with Maggie, and always had been), and was ecstatic when Ron proposed to her three months before. Especially happy about the arrangement was Ginny, Maggie's best friend, who was constantly saying that she 'would finally get a sister.' Hermione helped Ron to the couch, gently, trying not to touch where he had hit the wall when she had disarmed him.
"What happened?" Harry inquired.
Ron sniffed. "Oh, god! It was so stupid! It was maybe eleven o'clock, and we were, well, you know." Harry nodded and Hermione stifled a giggle. "Do hush, Hermione. I have a very good idea that that's exactly what you and Harry were up to before I came."
Hermione blushed. "Sorry, go on."
Ron sighed and buried his face in his hands. "Well, we were talking about the wedding. She told me that she wanted Ginny to be the maid of honor. And I told her to go ahead, I mean she's my sister and all. We're doing a white and blue color scheme; they're Ginny's favorite colors-"
"Ron?" Harry interrupted.
"Yeah?"
"I hate to be rude, but do get on to the part where you two fought."
Ron glared at Harry, but continued. "We were talking about where we wanted to go on our honeymoon. She wanted to go to Hawaii; I wanted to go to Liverpool or somewhere."
"Liverpool? Oh Ron, that's so romantic," Hermione said sarcastically.
Ron sighed. "We really can't afford Hawaii. And anyway, how much do you really get out of the hotel room on the honeymoon? I mean, Harry, how much of Las Vegas did you actually see?"
Harry grinned. "The wedding chapel, and I think we went to Caesar's palace." He laughed. "You've got a point there; I don't think we got out of bed for the first three days." Hermione turned scarlet and smacked his shoulder. "What? We didn't!"
"You don't go and tell people that!" Hermione hissed.
"Anyway, back to my story!" Ron said loudly. "Well, we started fighting. I told her that about the hotel room, and she called me a hormone-crazed teenager and an immature little boy. I told her about the money problem, and she called me a cheap bastard."
"Well, you probably are being cheap," Hermione told him.
"Thanks, Herm," Ron said with a fake smile.
"No, really. I don't think you mean it, but I do think you are tight with money. I mean, you were poor growing up, so you have a natural tendency to save your money and not waste it on the small things," Hermione said.
"Like honeymoons."
"No Ron, not like honeymoons." Hermione bit her lip. "A honeymoon is a big deal, even if you don't do much. It's one of those things that the thought counts more than the actual thing."
Tears streamed down Ron's cheeks. "Well, I'll never get a chance to go on a honeymoon, now will I?"
"What are you talking about?" Harry exclaimed. "Just go and apologize."
Ron shook his head. "No, it's over. She threw this at my head." He extracted a diamond engagement ring out of his pocket.
"She broke an engagement over an argument about the honeymoon?" Hermione asked, shocked.
"No," Ron admitted. "I said a lot of things that I regret. I'm sure she said some things she regrets too. It wasn't just about the honeymoon; we argued about other things also."
"Like what?"
"Like you two," he said.
"What about us?" Harry asked incredulously, placing a protective arm around Hermione, who scooted closer to him.
Ron sighed. "Oh, about that entire David thing. She says that I acted immaturely in not telling Hermione how you felt." He snorted. "Immature my ass. It was your problem."
"Our problem?" Hermione inquired.
"That didn't come out the way I wanted it to. I didn't want to get in the middle of that love triangle."
"That's understandable," Hermione said. "Really, me, in a love triangle? I've thought that I've had a relatively uneventful love life. Guess I was wrong."
"Relatively uneventful love life?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.
Hermione buried her face in his shoulder. "Well, I've only had one boyfriend."
Harry shook his head. "No, two. Me and David."
Hermione laughed against his shoulder. "Actually, we never really went out. We were engaged, then married. We never really dated."
Harry pouted. "Well-"
"Ahem!" Ron cleared his throat. "Back to the discussion on hand!"
"Yes, sorry," Hermione apologized.
"Yeah, sorry," Harry said. "Please continue."
"That's pretty much it," Ron told them. "I can't believe I've just lost the woman I love to something as stupid as this."
"You haven't lost her!" Hermione cried. "Just go and apologize."
Harry nodded in agreement. "If you love her, go back and beg for forgiveness. I mean, get on your knees and beg for mercy."
Hermione grinned. "If she really loves you too, then she'll eventually come around. But nothing will happen if you don't, and you'll end up losing one of the most important things in your life."
Ron nodded. "I'll go there first thing in the morning. She's staying in the apartment."
"Where are you going to sleep tonight?" Harry asked.
Hermione shook her head in disbelief. "Harry, I swear, sometimes you are so dense," she whispered.
"What?"
Hermione grinned. "Ron, why don't you stay here tonight? You can stay in the guest bedroom."
"Thanks," Ron said. "If it's not too much trouble."
"Ron," Hermione scolded. "It's never too much trouble. You're our best friend." She reached over and hugged Ron. "Now, I'm going to bed!"
"Tired?" Ron suggested. "Or you just want to go back to the bedroom?" He raised his eyebrow at the last comment.
"The former," Hermione said. "I'm too tired to even think about the latter."
"Me too," Harry said. "Night, Ron."
"You know where everything is, right? Help yourself to anything that's in the kitchen," Hermione told Ron.
"Although there's nothing good in there," Harry admitted. "For the last week I've been living of cereal and macaroni and takeout. I only cook when I have someone to cook for."
Hermione smiled. "Which is good, because the most complicated thing I can cook is spaghetti O's. Heat and serve; that's my motto."
Ron laughed. "I love you guys."
"I love you too," Hermione said softly as she hugged Ron again. "I'm so sorry about everything. It'll all look better in the morning; I promise."
Harry put his hand on Ron's shoulder. "Everything will work out. Don't worry about it. Love you, man."
"Love you too, dude," Ron said jokingly, faking tears.
"Oh my god, this is so emotional!" Hermione exclaimed sarcastically.
"Shut up," Harry said.
"No, really! I mean this is really a breakthrough moment!"
"Come on," Harry said as he pushed her towards the bedroom. "Night Ron!"
"Night."
***
"Hermione?" Harry Potter whispered, laying down on his bed, staring up at the ceiling.
"What?"
"I love you."
Hermione smiled. "I love you too, sweetheart." She snuggled closer to him and he wrapped his arms around her. "I love you too," she muttered against the sleeve of his T-shirt.
"Hermione?"
"What?" came the slightly annoyed answer from the sleepy figure nestled against him.
"Do you want children?"
Hermione rolled over and looked at her husband. "Huh?"
"Do you want children?"
"That was a random question."
"I know," Harry admitted. "But, while I was waiting for you to come home tonight-"
"Uh huh."
Harry continued. "I was listening to the sounds of our neighbors in the apartments next to ours. On the right, I heard a family eating dinner."
"Probably the McGills. They have three children: two boys and a girl."
"Anyway, everything that happened sounded so warm and cozy and loving. I was just wondering if you picture us doing that. Sitting down to dinner with our kids and being a family."
"Harry," Hermione whined. "I'm trying to sleep."
Harry sighed. "I really want to know. Do you want children?"
"Do you mean now, or someday?" she asked.
"Either," he whispered.
"Well, maybe someday," she muttered.
"Maybe someday?"
She snorted. "You're really not going to let me sleep until we have this conversation, are you?"
"Nope," Harry said. "Just answer the question, please love?"
She sighed. "Harry, to tell you the truth-"
"Yes?"
"I don't really want children."
"What?" Harry exclaimed, surprised by her answer. How could she not want what he wanted most?
"You heard me. I don't really want children," Hermione said. "Can I go to sleep now?"
Harry ignored her last comment. "Why on earth do you not want kids?"
"Why not? Well, I've never really been one for diaper changes and one a.m. feedings and not sleeping a wink."
"You're dwelling on the negative things," Harry told her.
"Another thing is that I don't have time. I'm working -my career is going great- and I have you. That's all I need. I don't want children."
"You don't want a family?" Harry asked, still in shock and disbelief.
Hermione looked at him. "Not really. Why are you questioning that?"
Harry laid his head against the pillows. "No reason."
"Are you ok with that?" Hermione asked, propping herself up with an elbow so she could gaze into his tear-laced emerald green eyes. "Oh, sweetie, what's wrong?"
"Nothing," he said stuffily. "I'm fine."
"Are you ok with that?" she whispered, her voice softening.
"Ok with what?"
Hermione ran her fingers down his arm. "About not having children."
"I don't know," Harry said. "I don't know. I'm going to sleep. G'night."
She kissed his cheek. "Goodnight love." With that, she shut her eyes against the pillow and seemed to fall asleep instantly.
Harry couldn't fall asleep with the same ease. He tossed and turned for about an hour or so, with no result. He finally gave up and stared at the ceiling absent-mindedly. He noticed a crack in the ceiling, resembling a little bear. A teddy bear, he thought painfully. God, even my ceiling is telling me to have children. He turned on his side, facing his wife. He reached out and grabbed her hand. He ran his fingers over the lines and creases in her own palm, trying to remember every detail, every mark on her hand. Lightly kissing her fingertips, he closed his eyes and thought about the conversation they had just had. She's come around, Harry thought. We're only twenty five. We have plenty of time. Harry placed her hand down on the bed. "What if she doesn't come around?" he thought out loud. He shook the thoughts from his head. He didn't want to think about it; he wanted to sleep.
A/N: Less than twenty four hours and I will be a proud owner of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. Ohmygod! And if something in my story is proved horribly wrong in the fourth book, then this will be a Alternative Universe fic where book four didn't exist. Like if the person who died was Ginny or one of the twins, just pretend they're still alive. Ok? Ok! Hey, did you like? Please read and review; I need it! I think there will either be two or three more parts. This won't be near as long as Wedding March.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Ginny Weasley, Hannah Abbott, and Colin Creevy all belong to the wonderful J.K. Rowling. (We love you!)
Maggie Chabert, David Mercenary, Bob Middle, Susie and her paramour Matt, the McGills, the old woman and her teenage son all belong to me. I'll sell the old woman or Bob if anyone wants to buy them from me.