TWENTY-ONE

Saturday, 31 October 2020; twenty weeks

Over the course of the week leading up to Halloween, James and Hermione settled into a slightly new routine. It was akin to one they had established previously, but wasn't as effortless as it had once had been. Every night she found herself unable to sleep unless she was in his bed with his arms around her, chest pressed against her back. Aside from the morning following the failure that was the adoption meeting, their clothes had remained securely in place.

Some mornings she would be the first to wake, slipping out without a sound and sometimes it was she who woke up alone. And when they both crossed paths in the kitchen to get their coffee and go, they would greet each other with an occasional, "Good morning," muttered under their breaths, though mostly it was accomplished with a single nod of their heads. And in the evenings, it was the same. They still brought dinner home, alternating nights, but they would eat separately or in complete silence.

She knew it was a dangerous game; keeping everything bottled up, but she wasn't ready to talk about what happened. That by not signing the life of their child over to someone else changed everything, but there was a part of her that was still thinking. She couldn't help but wonder if it was just that she hadn't had enough time to think it through and that had been what caused her panic or if it was something else. The few moments that she did think about the future, she couldn't picture herself with a child.

Theo had reached out to her on Monday afternoon, asking if she needed more time or if her decision was final. He was sweet in the way he kept trying to assure her that he didn't want her to feel pressure of any sort, he just wanted what was best for all of them. He had told her that if she intended to raise her own child after all, he wished her only the best. She had replied and told him that she did in fact need more time and that she would be in touch when she had decided, but to look or another birth mom just in case.

She had not told James about it. Telling him meant talking to him and talking to him meant facing all the thoughts she had been trying so hard to avoid.

So in effort to sweep even more of her problems under a rug that was no longer touching the floor, she went about the week pretending everything was fine. In fact, if there was ever a time for the apololypse that people loved to predict so much, she thought now was a good a time as any.

When Halloween rolled around a week later, it had gotten far too easy to pretend all was well.

She left James' bed earlier than she normally would. There wasn't any reason in particular, she had just woken with the sunrise and hadn't been able to fall back asleep. She'd gone down to the kitchen, eaten some cereal, and then took her time in the shower. It was after she got out that she received Ginny's message, asking in a tone that was more on the demanding side that she come over and help her set up for the party. Hermione smiled to herself and replied that she would be there relatively soon.

It was after that that she remembered what Ginny had said about Oliver. A small part of her was curious about him; from what she remembered he had a good head on his shoulders and was attractive. The rest of her knew that now wasn't a good time to start anything. If not solely for the uncertainty of whether or not she would have a tiny human to take care of in a few months or not, but her relationship with its father- his father- was still up in the air too.

Currently, she was quite full in the drama department.

Even so, she found herself taking a bit of extra time on her hair that day and picking her clothes. Granted, with Ginny's request for her to wear all black, it didn't leave her with man choices. When her hair was dry enough, she pulled it back into a low, messy bun, letting whatever didn't cooperate float about her face as though it were intentional. She did her base makeup, knowing Ginny would fill in the rest, and then pulled on an all black skater dress. It had sleeves that came to her elbow, pockets in the skirt, and a decent neckline; one that would have been modest if her chest wasn't bordering on obscene.

Since it was staying chilly during the day too, she put on a pair of black leggings underneath and slipped into plain, flat booties that came up just past her ankles. Before she made her way downstairs, she grabbed one of her black scarves with a bit of silver thread woven in to accent it and the plainest jacket she had that still fit. Looking more ready to attend a funeral than a party, she left her room.

James was finishing up his breakfast when she walked in, grabbing a soda from the fridge to take with her. "Who died?" he asked.

She rolled her eyes, but couldn't help the smile that tugged at her lips. "My sanity," she said, looking down at herself. "How did you get out of going?"

"I hardly ever go. That's more for-" he stopped himself and cleared his throat. "For you kids than us old folks," he finished after a moment, a sheepish grin on his face.

She smiled back, shaking her head at him. "And what about you? Planning on staying home and passing out candy like all the other cool dads?"

"Funny," he muttered, leaning back, slinging his arm over the back of the chair. "Hilarious even," he added. "But I probably will stay home. My partying days are long gone."

She waited for there to be more, but when there wasn't, she gave a nod and took a step towards the exit. "Whatever you end up doing, I hope you have a good night."

"Usually I would say if you have too much to drink, call me, but I doubt that will be the case," he said, a light chuckle under his breath. "But if you do need me…"

"I know," she replied, her voice quiet as a shiver crept its way up her spine. Her head canted to the side as she smiled at him. "What, no curfew?"

"You can go now," he replied, raking a hand through his hair, the smile on his face widening into a grin. And after a few moments of hesitation, she nodded at him again and took her leave.

After five months of being pregnant, Hermione had finally found its best perk. The majority of her time at Ginny's was spent on the couch, pulling the "I can't, I'm incubating a human life here," card. She knew one day in the future there would be hell to pay for it, but until such time, Hermione milked it. Between her time with Ginny and Harry as well as the lighthearted conversation with James before she left, for the first time in a week, she finally felt more like herself again.

Enough that she didn't even complain when Ginny used eyeline to turn her into a cat; whiskers and all. She wondered how she was going to keep the product from staining her nose and cheeks, but it was something she would deal with later. And when she donned the headband Ginny had made her buy the week before, she had to admit, she was glad she had something in terms of costume for the night.

And as the guests started arriving, Hermione was in such a good mood that she had nearly forgotten about Ron.

He and his new girlfriend, Hannah, were one of the firsts to arrive. Hermione decided to be the bigger person and approach them first, her hand rising up between them for Hannah to take. Even seeing her up close and personal, she still couldn't remember her from school. Judging by the look in Hannah's eyes, neither could she. "Ron told me about you awhile ago and I'm glad to see that you're still together. It's nice to meet you."

Hannah's shoulders sagged with relief as she grasped Hermione's hand. "I've heard a lot about you. It's nice to finally meet you too."

"I promise I'm not going to the be the dreaded ex-wife," she said with a smile. "That being said, is it okay if I borrow Ron for a moment?"

"Oh, of course," Hannah said, unlacing their fingers. She stilled as Ron dropped his lips to her cheeks, turning them pink before he followed Hermione outside to the porch.

"Sorry…" he started, rubbing his shoulder as he nodded towards the door. "I just-"

"She's your girlfriend, Ron. I expect there to be kissing," she said with a smile.

He stared at her, his eyes full of guilt. "I'm sorry for the way I handled…" he gestured at her stomach briefly. "All of that."

She waved him off. "It's behind us, okay?"

He nodded, the apple of his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard. "Ginny tells me she might introduce you to someone tonight."

Hermione froze, her cheeks burning beneath her makeup. "She told you?"

He grinned. "It was more of a 'this is happening, Ron! Don't be an asshole about it' type thing," he said, imitating Ginny in a way that made her giggle.

"Well, I would appreciate it if you didn't, but I wouldn't worry too much. I'm not exactly anyone's dream come true right now."

"Stop selling yourself short, Hermione. You always do that," he said, his voice taking on the tone it always did when he told her that. "You'd be surprised at who would want you, no matter what sort of shambles your life is currently in."

She tipped her head to the side, staring at him with narrowed eyes and a smile on her face. "Thank you?"

"That didn't come out right, but you know what I mean," he said, pulling her into a hug before she could protest.

When they broke apart, they exchanged a nod before he went back inside to find Hannah. Hermione lingered on the porch, sinking into one of the chairs to gather her thoughts. She hoped that if the truth ever did come out, that Ron would maintain his maturity. A part of her knew that wouldn't be the case, but she still held out hope. Her other thoughts turned to James as Ron's wisdom of you'd be surprised echoed in her mind.

But she didn't get to dwell on it for long before Ginny was at her side, pulling her to her feet, telling her Oliver had arrived and she wanted to introduce them now so they had plenty of time to talk. Without a word, Hermione allowed herself to be pulled away and reintroduced to someone "new."

Having already stayed far longer than she originally wanted to, Hermione decide to leave around ten o'clock. Ginny didn't complain one bit, having been too intoxicated to really protest. And that alone was why Hermione was ready to go. Too many people were beyond drunk and not only was she envious of their ability to numb themselves, but she wanted to get home before the streets were filled with idiots thinking they were sober when they weren't.

As her luck would have it, the cars parked in front of her and behind her had gotten far too close, leaving her absolutely no way to get her car out of the space. She stood there, staring at the situation, debating if she should call a cab or if she should call James. She was saved from having to do either when Oliver approached.

"I can give you a ride home," he offered.

"Oh, uh…"

"I only had two beers," he assured her. "The last of which was over an hour ago."

She gnawed on her lower lip as her gaze flickered down to James' contact information she had just pulled up on her phone. "Sure," she said, turning the screen off so she could slip the phone into her the pocket of her purse. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, just tell me how to get there as we go," he said, leading her to his jeep and opening the passenger side door for her.

He had been friendly enough to talk to earlier in the evening, but the only thing plaguing her mind during their interaction was that he wasn't a certain someone else. Someone she refused to name. She was, however, grateful that of all the things they spoke of, the elephant that was her stomach was not one of them.

"I don't know how you managed to stay sane while being around your ex and his new girlfriend," he said as he began to drive.

"We ended on good terms," she said. "Just because it's not with me, doesn't mean I don't want to see him happy."

"I wish my ex and I were that civil," he said, lingering bitterness in his tone. "My divorce was quite the opposite from yours."

"I'm sorry to hear that. How long has it been?" she asked.

"About six months," he replied. "You?"

"Five," she said, patting her stomach; the ultimate way to keep track of exactly how many days it had been. She didn't miss the way his gaze dropped to her stomach from the corner of his eyes. "And if you're wondering, yes, I'm also five months along."

"I wasn't…" he replied, his voice thin.

She laughed quietly and shifted in her seat. "It's fine if you were."

He nodded, but the rest of the ride was silent except for the radio. When he pulled up in front of James' house, he stepped out first to help her down from the jeep. "Nice place."

"Thanks, but it's not mine. I'm staying here until I find a place of my own."

"Ah," he said with a grin as he walked her to the front door. "It was nice seeing you again, Hermione. I know we didn't really know-"

"Oliver," she interrupted, an apologetic smile on her lips.

He nodded and took a step back from her. After a moment, he pulled out his wallet and handed her a business card with his number scribbled on the back. "I wrote it down when Ginny told me you would be there and I know you're not interested, but that's okay. I haven't met anyone else who just got out of a divorce, so if you need to talk, I'm a great listener. It can be hard when all your friends are his family."

"Thank you, Oliver. I appreciate that." She slipped the card into her purse and smiled. "I'll text you in a bit so you have my number. My ears are always open too."

"Goodnight," he said, tipping his head to her before walking back to his car.

She waved as he drove off, waiting until he disappeared from view before she went inside.

She was greeted by a low whistle as she passed the living room. It caused her to stumble as she came to a stop and turned to see Sirius and James drinking on the couch. Between them, there were too many bottles to count, including the near empty bottle of Jack on the coffee table.

Sirius nudged James with a sharp elbow to the ribs and tipped his beer at Hermione. "She's pregnant and still has more game than you."

"Sirius-"

He rolled his eyes and stood up, swaying slightly for a moment. "I love the ears, Kitten. I always knew the nickname suited you. So," he said, clapping a hand on her shoulder as he passed on his way to the kitchen. "Who was the lucky bloke?"

"It wasn't like that," she answered, though she directed her attention to James. He refused to look at her, but she was afraid do much more in front of Sirius. Especially when he walked back into the room and plopped down beside James again.

"Sure, sure," he said with a grin.

Hermione sighed and shifted her weight. She was more than ready to get off her feet, already sour about the fact that she was only going to get bigger. She had long since taken back any complaint she had ever had about thinking she was too small in the beginning.

"Goodnight you two," she said, taking off towards the stairs.

The first thing she did was toe off her shoes. The relief she felt from that action alone nearly made her weep. The second thing was shrug herself out of her coat, followed by unwinding the scarf from her neck. It was when she began to gather the skirt of her dress that she heard her door open and turned to see she James in her doorway, a second before he spoke. "What happened to your car?"

"What?"

"You drove over to Harry's this morning, but he drove you home." His chin lifted slightly as he rubbed at the stubble there. "Why?"

"My car got blocked in and he was leaving at the same time I was." She crossed her arms over her chest and took a step forward. "Are you jealous?"

"Why didn't you call me?" he asked, his eyes flashing as he avoided her question.

"I was about to when he made the offer," she said, gesturing at him. "Even if I had called you, you were already in no condition to get behind the wheel."

"And he didn't have anything in his system? How well do you even know him? That's not just your ch-"

"Stop!" she snapped, hands gesturing towards the floor. "He can hear you!" she hissed under her breath. "I'm sorry you're jealous, that wasn't my intention. He was just being nice and offered me a ride home. And he was sober. I would've just stayed there if he wasn't. Or called a cab." She pinched the bridge of her nose for a second. "Can we talk tomorrow when you're sober? I'm tired."

He was silent for a moment before he muttered, "I'm not jealous."

Her snort was so loud, there was no way Sirius hadn't heard it. Unless he was already passed out on the couch downstairs. "How else would you describe your mood right now?"

He was the one to step forward, stopping when they were at arm's length from one another. "Well I wouldn't have to be jealous if someone would make up their bloody mind about what they wanted."

That was not what she had expected tonight, nor was the way he reached out and pulled her to him, his lips crashing over hers. His mouth was rough against hers; lips tugging, teeth nipping, tongues dueling. The hand cupping her cheek slid back into her hair, pulling it from the band, but leaving the ears in place. The other hand started out at her hip, but quickly lowered to gather the material of her dress. It was when his hand cupped her core over her leggings that she pulled her head away, ending the kiss abruptly and pushed him away.

"What are you doing?"

"Hermione-" he started, reaching for her again.

She stepped out of reach and folded her arms over her chest. "Not now," she said, shaking her head adamantly. "Not like this. Not with Sirius downstairs where he could hear us!"

"And if he weren't here?" he questioned. "Would you-"

"Yes!" she snapped. "I…I'm ready to talk, but we can do that tomorrow when we're alone and you're sober. Okay?"

He stared at her in disbelief for the longest time before his body relaxed and he nodded. "Okay." He moved to leave, but lingered in her doorway, his eyes studying her again, almost as if he were afraid it were a dream. "Night."

"Night," she returned, moving to close the door once she heard him descend the stairs. After a moment to make sure he wasn't going to come back, she finished peeling herself out of her clothes in favor of her sleepwear and then going to the bathroom to freshen up. She did a double take at the makeup she had forgotten about, she decided to leave it for tomorrow.

And just as she suspected, since she was alone in her own bed, sleep became hard to achieve and when it came, it was anything but restful.

Sunday, 1 November 2020; twenty-one weeks

When she woke the next morning, she spent far too much time scrubbing at her face only to have the tip of her nose stained black along with the faint whiskers on her cheeks. After giving up, she stole downstairs and started the coffee knowing both men would be grateful for it when they woke. Just like last time, she decided to get going on making breakfast for them too.

Sirius was the first to join her, squeezing her shoulder after taking a sip of coffee. "If I were a smarter man, I would find myself staying over her far more often if I knew it meant someone to cook me breakfast in the morning."

"Perhaps you should stop sleeping with a different girl every week and get one that can do this for you for the rest of your life," Hermione fired back, tossing a smirk over her shoulder to him.

"Well aren't we feisty this morning?" She shook her head, but didn't say anything as she went about scrambling the eggs with a fork. She gathered from Sirius' whistle that James had joined them; not to mention the shift in the air. But it was his words that made her stomach flip. "Well look what the cat dragged in." There was a pause and then, "Or should I say, Kitten?"