Such a beautiful spring day! A day like this deserves a chapter update. Enjoy the story and the wonderful weather!
Chapter 8
The sitting room was dark when Hermione finally arrived home. She dropped her keys on the small table by the front door and turned toward her bedroom. That was when she noticed the sofa bed was pulled out. The faint light of the moon shone in through the windows, illuminating the sleeping figure in the bed. Hermione moved to the unoccupied side and pulled off her shoes before making herself more comfortable next to Fred. She ran a hand through his long red locks before allowing a finger to trace over the freckles that lined his nose. His eyelids twitched from the contact, making Hermione smile. When she pressed a kiss to his cheek, Fred's eyes slowly fluttered open.
"Hi," he said groggily, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. "What time is it?"
"Around midnight," she told him. "What are you doing out here? This thing is dreadfully uncomfortable."
Fred replied with a lazy shrug as he moved to sit up. He leaned against the couch cushions that served as a headboard and pulled his knees up, encircling them with his arms. "I figured if and when you came home you wouldn't want me in your bed." His words were clipped and unfeeling as he spoke in a husky voice still laced with sleep.
Hermione mimicked his position. They sat in silence as she could think of nothing to tell him.
"How was Ginny's?" Fred finally asked. She turned her head to look at Fred, whose own eyes would not meet hers. "That's where you've been right?" he added when she didn't answer.
Hermione nodded. "Yeah, that's where I was. Your sister may have pointed out that I'm an idiot on more than one occasion. I wasn't thinking clearly during that fight, and I'm sorry for what I said. It's just...I have no idea how to do this. Any of this. There are so many books on having a baby, but there are so many things the books don't have the answers to. I'm scared of being a mother, and of being a bad mother."
"I'm having a really hard time being sympathetic for you, Hermione," he muttered. Fred threw back the blankets and got off the bed. He walked to the kitchen, took a deep breath, and waited for her to follow. He turned to face the sink, his back to her when she entered. "You've been hot and cold, up and down. You want a baby, you don't want a baby. You love me, you hate me. We're in this together, I should quit my job to take care of the baby. Just once I want...I don't know. I want you to ask me how I'm feeling about what's happening. I want you to just try and pretend that you care about someone besides yourself."
His elbows rested on the rim of the sink and his head dropped into his hands. Tension filled his body when her hands rested on his sides. He felt her chin dig into his shoulder blade and then he heard her sigh.
"You're right," she admitted.
Fred felt a smile pull up the corners of his mouth. "I'll forgive you entirely if you say the words 'I'm wrong.' And if you let me record it, I'll forgive you any future wrongdoings."
He turned to face her, his arms braced on the sink behind him. Hermione set a serious look on her face. "Fred, I was," she started, pretending to stutter over her words. "I was wr...wro...wrong." Fred started to laugh, which drew a smile on Hermione's face.
"Totally worth it," he replied with a chuckle. He slipped out of her grasp and returned to the sitting room. He set about tidying up the bed before folding it back into the couch. All the while, he felt two brown eyes settle upon him. As he placed the cushions back into their place, he spoke, "I'm a bit nervous. The first time Bill let me hold Victoire was awful. See, Fleur didn't want me holding her, but Bill thought it would be fine. So, when Fleur went to lie down Bill handed her over to me and left to talk to Dad.
"So there I am holding this tiny, wiggling, fussy newborn. I thought I was doing pretty well until Fleur woke up and came looking for her daughter. She scared the living daylights out of me and I dropped Victoire. Thank heavens for magic, I suppose, because Fleur suspended the baby before she hit the ground," Fred finished. When he turned to gage Hermione's reaction he was surprised to see a look of relief on her face. She crossed the room and sat down, expecting him to join her.
When he joined her, she rested her head against his shoulder. "Don't drop our baby," she murmured, closing her eyes.
"I solemnly swear to try not to," he replied, slinging an arm around her shoulders. He pulled her closer, listening as her breathing slowed and he knew she was asleep. His free hand gently rested on her stomach. "You have no idea what you're getting yourself into."
Hermione awoke with the worst pain in her neck. She found her head resting on the armrest of the sofa. The smell of freshly brewed coffee and bacon permeated the apartment. She pulled herself up just as Fred walked in with a plate in his hand. He set it on the coffee table, handed Hermione a fork, and started eating with his own fork. "Go on then. Eat," he told her, noticing she just watched him. As soon as she dug in, Fred pulled a letter out of his pocket and placed it on the table near her.
Hermione raised a curious eyebrow and set her fork on the side of the plate. She picked up the letter and began to read.
"Mum wants to know when to tell the family the wedding is," Fred explained. "As I'm sure you've read already, she wants to make sure we're married before you begin to show. Incidentally, too late for that."
Hermione scowled both at Fred and the letter in her hands. "I thought we made it clear to them that we wouldn't be getting married."
Fred shrugged. "She wants to make sure we're doing the proper thing," he replied softly. "You know she looks out for you, possibly more than she does for me. She's just looking to ensure that you and the baby are provided for."
Hermione set the letter down and turned to Fred. She took his hands into her own and looked him in the eye. "Fred, do you promise to always be there for our child? Will you love this baby with all your heart and all your soul?"
"I will," he answered. He tightened his grip on her hands. "My turn now. Hermione, do you promise that there will always be a place for me, not just in our child's life, but in your life as well? Do you promise to let me shoulder some of the load? Will you put our baby first and foremost?"
Hermione nodded. "I will." Fred closed the distance between them, brushing his lips against hers.
"I say we make a pact," Fred suggested.
"What kind of pact?" Hermione asked, suddenly nervous. She tried to remove her hands from his grasp, but Fred held on tighter.
A mischievous smile lit up Fred's face. "If, by our child's fourth birthday, neither one of us is married, we'll get married."
He let go of one of her hands and held it out to her, waiting for her to accept the offer. With a nervous sigh, she slipped her hand into his and said, "Deal."
