Christmas 2005

Christmas Eve was always a magical night at the Burrow. Hell, the whole holiday season was, but Hermione had to admit that the festivities grew bigger and bigger each year. Molly Weasley had now gotten into the habit of cooking two dinners, one for the Eve and one for the actual holiday.

"Mum, you work yourself too hard," at least one of the children or children-in-law would say. Mrs. Weasley would just brush this off, and sit back satisfactorily as her family dug in and someone would then say how she had outdone herself from last year's dinners.

The family had already begun to expand. Bill and Fleur had welcomed their second child, Dominique, in July of 2003. Percy and Audrey had had a girl, Molly II, in April 2004, and George and Angelina had gotten married that summer. Oh yeah, and little James Potter II also came along, in March of 2004, just six weeks before miniature Molly. At almost two years old, he was already a little devil. Hermione recalled that Harry had been as nervous as a cat on the day his son was born, running around frantically trying to get Ginny to the hospital. At one point, he had tripped, crashed into Ron and both men fell down the stairs, fracturing several bones. It had been quite a mess at St. Mungo's that day, but was now a baby story that was sure to be followed by more funny ones to come.

Hermione's thoughts were interrupted as George suddenly stood up and chinked his glass to get everyone's attention. He then turned to his wife, obviously looking to her to tell whatever it was that had to be told. Angelina looked like she was about ready to burst from excitement.

"I'm pregnant!" she squealed. Everyone smiled and started to applaud, as had now become standard procedure, when a sudden shriek made them all jump.

"No way!" Audrey cried. "Me, too!"

"Moi aussi!" Fleur suddenly cut in, looking disappointed that someone had already beaten her to the punch.

Ginny grimaced. "I guess this is a bad time to, uh, fourth that?..."

Charlie, the only Weasley son who had not married, threw back his head and groaned. "Oh my god!"

Mrs. Weasley burst into tears. She jumped up and ran to her daughters, hugging the life out of them. Her husband laughed heartily and threw his arms over Bill and Percy's shoulders. "Oh, wait 'till I tell this at the Ministry!" he chortled.

Hermione bit her lip as she watched her family devolve into chaotic excitement. All the women were asking each other how far along they were; it seemed the babies would be born within weeks of each other. Hermione felt truly happy for everyone, but could not shake the feeling of being left out. She tried hiding it for a little while by passing congratulations all around. Eventually, though, she could not contain it any longer and promptly left the table for upstairs with a small "Excuse me." Harry and Ron quickly noticed her departure and looked at each other. Both simultaneously got up, but then paused and regarded each other. Without saying a word and communicating only with their eyes, they slowly sat back down again. The family had stopped all chatter to watch the exchange. Ginny just shook her head, amused.

"I swear, sometimes I wonder if you two share a brain when it comes to her!" she observed. Everyone chuckled knowingly and resumed eating and discussing babies.

The moon was high in the sky that night when Hermione was pulled out of sleep. She had been dreaming of babies and one had not stopped crying. Now, she realized there actually was a baby crying. Assuming that one of the parents would take care of it, she waited for the wailing to abate. When it didn't after several minutes, she quietly got up to investigate.

Slipping down the hall, she gently pushed on the door that led to the spare room. It had been converted into a guest nursery for the grandchildren, and currently housed three cribs; at 5 years old already, Victoire slept in a trundle bed in the guest room that belonged to her parents. The whole family always spent a few nights at the Burrow over the Christmas holiday. Hermione identified the source of the cries immediately.

"Ssh, ssh, James, it's alright. Aunt Hermione's here. Did you have a bad dream? Aw, well I did too. Come on, Aunt Hermione will hold you." She grunted a little as she picked him up; he had already gotten quite big, and began to rock him gently. Her nephew and godson slowly began to calm and let out a yawn. Turning his face into her nightgown and gripping it with his tiny hands, he fell asleep. Hermione smiled. She would never forget when she had first held him, after Harry had asked her and Ron in a heartfelt request to be James's godparents. She wondered if she would feel the same when she had her own child. If she ever had her own child…

"You're his favorite, you know." Hermione jumped at the voice and whirled around to see a bleary-eyed Harry leaning against the doorframe. He smiled softly. "He won't fall asleep that fast for anyone else – not Audrey, not Fleur, not Angelina… hell, not even Ginny."

"I'm sorry," Hermione began. "He woke me up and no one was coming right away, so…"

"That's alright," Harry interrupted, as he strolled over and watched as Hermione gingerly placed his son back into his crib. "You're his godmother; he'll give you good practice for later when…" He paused when he saw Hermione visibly stiffen. "'Mione? Are you alright?"

Hermione, whose back was now to him, nodded. "Yes, I'm fine. It's just…" A brief silence, and then she burst into tears. The next second she was being pulled into Harry's arms, and he was rocking her back and forth like the baby she had just lulled to sleep. Hermione buried her face into her brother-in-law's nightshirt, so as to muffle her sobs and not wake the grandchildren. Besides her husband, Harry was the only man who could hold her like this and she would still be comfortable.

"Hush, now. It's all right." Harry soothed.

"Oh, I want a baby so bad!" Hermione blubbered.

"And you and Ron will get there eventually. Trust me. You'll make amazing parents."

"But what if we don't get there? What if something's wrong in our ability to conceive?" Another horrid thought struck her. "What if I became sterile because of my torture? What if I – if I can't – Ron won't want to stay; he'll leave me!"

"Now stop it!" Harry hissed, a dash of firmness in his voice. He gently pushed her back and gave her a little shake. "If there is one thing you're husband is, it's that he's loyal – to the end. Nothing can change the way Ron feels about you. Nothing." He pulled her back into his arms. "I highly doubt Bellatrix could have damaged your reproductive system with the bloody Cruciatus Curse. And if, by some cruel twist of fate, she did, it's just one more reason for Ron and I to hate her, for me to blame myself, and for Ron to ride my ass about how it's my fault when he's had one too many butterbeers."

Hermione wanted to refute his culpability in her torture, but she could only laugh and hiccup through her tears. She looked up into his face. "I love you, big bro."

Harry grinned. "I love you too, sis."

"Everything ok?" Both turned to see Ron in the doorway. Hermione slipped out of Harry's arms and flew into Ron's. Her husband did not seem fazed. He had learned long ago to not worry about his wife's feelings towards Harry. His two best friends cared for each other like siblings. When Hermione wouldn't let go and remained quiet, Ron glanced at Harry, and his brother-in-law filled in the details.

"Don't worry about it anymore," Ron murmured to his wife. "You are already a fantastic godmother and aunt – and you will make a bloody amazing mum when the time is right. Come on, let's go back to bed." They crept down the hall to their guest room and slipped into bed. Harry made to follow them out, then glanced back at the nursery. He could already imagine it a lot more full by this time next year. Smiling, he closed the door.