Chapter 9

A/N: so....sry i havent been updating as much lately! i've been super busy with a bunch of crap....speaking of which i wont be able to update this weekend at all either, so, after this, u guys r just gonna have to wait until monday! XD

Disclaimer: I still don't own Harry Potter

The months leading up to February passed in a blur. If asked, Hermione could barely have told you what she had yesterday for breakfast, much less what had gone on the weeks before. All she knew was that, somehow, she, Ron, Harry, and Ginny had all helped finish the nursery, which was decorated in a cute blue, green, and pink theme. Also, she was quite surprised to find, there was quite a lot of baby food and other baby items such as clothes that had been arriving by owl almost every morning now, by either Mrs. Weasely, or Harry and Ginny, or Angelina and George. Either way, she was quite relieved that that aspect of the babies, she would not have to spend time worrying about. However, there was still so much whirling around in her mind, it was lucky she didn't pass out. (Get sick, however, she did. A number of times.)

Hermione sat, head in her hands, on a chair in the sitting room. She gave a heavy sigh. Her stomach had become so huge, that moving about had become difficult, and she had taken to sitting down quite often. Not knowing what to do with herself, she just sat there, in the large, fluffy chair. She held her hands against her damp forehead, and took deep breathes. She tried to push the thought of giving birth out of her mind.

The babies were coming.

Soon.

Ron sauntered into the room, causing Hermione to almost forget all her thoughts of worry. He had a knack for doing that to her, sometimes. Unfortunately, today was not one of those days. No, today, her thoughts were just too worrisome.

"Here's my beautiful wife!" he sang cheerfully.

Hermione managed a weak smile.

Ron, immediately seeing that Hermione was distressed, quickly knelt down beside her.

"Is everything okay?" he asked her carefully. "Do we need to go to the hospital?"

Hermione felt that, although touching, Ron's near constant suggestions to go to the hospital were getting a bit annoying. She had been going to St. Mungos at least once or twice a month now, and, with February coming so close, even more so. With all these visits, Hermione got more and more anxious each time, which was certainly not helping the calmness factor that Fiona kept mentioning was so very important when pregnant. Not to mention the awkwardness of her extremely large stomach. Not only this, but, as far as Hermione had heard, giving birth was not the most comfortable experience. She hoped that the Healers had some sort of spell they could use to eliminate the immense pain that she expected.

Not knowing how to put all these thoughts into one short summary, she just let out a noise between a shriek and a sigh and then the tears came out, all at once; build up from all these months when she had been pretending that everything was okay. She twisted herself so she could wrap her arms around Ron's neck. However, her stomach got in the way at first, which only made the tears pour harder, and, blinded by the sudden blurriness, Hermione struggled to find Ron and hug him tightly. She reached out and thought she felt what was perhaps the side of his arm, but she could never seem to get her arms all the way around him. Hermione let out a sort of wail that didn't quite sound like anything that had ever before come out of Hermione's mouth. All this made her cry even more substantially, and finally she just sat there, defeated, looking so unlike herself in the tear-streaked face and the red around her eyes and the sense of dejectedness emitting from her. She sat there; unaware of her surroundings, silver tears splashing down her red cheeks. All at once, Hermione felt two sturdy arms tighten around her, and, with a moan of despair, she let herself fall into them completely, and Hermione cried and cried, buried deep in Ron's arms. Ron didn't have to say anything, he just held her, and that was enough. At last, Hermione hiccupped, and fell silent, besides her quick, heavy breathing. She gave an exasperated sigh and turned her tear stained face towards her husband.

The couple did not need words to communicate. They just looked each other in the eye and a sudden sense of understanding passed through them. Hermione, with much joy, realized that she would not have to puts her thoughts to words at all. He, in this moment, knew and understood what she was thinking completely. And she understood how he felt, as well: scared, worried about his wife, and frantic about the idea of children. Words, Hermione thought, for what was perhaps the first time in her life, pointless. There was no need, in this moment.

With the thrill of a child on Christmas morning, Hermione found that she had it in her to smile after all, and, carelessly rubbing her damp cheeks, she pulled Ron into her, and kissed him deeply.

A/N: ooooo and the plot thickens! :)