Author's Note: Hello from the beach! I'm on vacation right now and highly sunburned- ah the joy of being fair skinned-, which is attributing to my stay indoors today. I've been nursing this plot bunny for a few weeks since I went to the beach with my Ya-Yas (Courtney, McKenzie and Rachael, thanks for the inspiration although I'm ninety percent positive that you won't read this) and since I was indoors reading all day, I had a good time watching the Atlantic and putting the finishing touches on this story. Enjoy! Review! Be Happy!
Author's Note 2: This is another one to add to my Hogwarts: The Next Generation series, and takes place around the same time as the story "Everybody Loves Ronald". Landon is four, and Emily is one.
Summary: Introspective on Hermione's part as she watches Ron and her children on the beach.
Footprints
The sound of waves lapping reached her ears before she could open her eyes and meet the unrelenting sun that was beating down on her. She typically loved the beach, but today was a different story. Emily had been crying all night, refusing to go to sleep. Not wanting to disappoint her husband and son, she told them that she and Emily would hit the sand with them that afternoon. It had not been the wisest decision. The nerves of mother and daughter were shot, resulting in the harsh and unwarranted scolding of big brother:
They had just made the trek down the sand, to the water line where Landon could make "proper" sandcastles, or "smashels" as he called them, and Ron began to set up camp while Hermione kept close watch on their daring little boy. Emily kicked and squirmed for Daddy from her perch on Mummy's hip, so the young parents switched positions and jobs for the moment. Ron set Emily down in the sand to play with Landon as he sat down next to Hermione, eager to spend some time alone with her even if it was only talking. But Emily would have none of that. When Landon handed her a handful of wet sand for her to add to the mound of a "smashel", she decided to be disagreeable, and throw it right back in the young redhead's face when he was least expecting it. Like most older brothers, even at the young age of four, Landon was very protective and proud of little Emily and she could do no wrong in his eyes. But when he got sand in his face, the Weasley side of him snapped as he threw two tiny fistfuls of water at the unsuspecting toddler. Of course, little Emily wouldn't tolerate this, so she screamed and cried while smashing his smashel with her tiny toddler feet. As his creation was being destroyed before his eyes, Landon shed a few tears as well before Daddy intervened by capturing kicking little Emily.
"Landon…" Hermione had warned.
"But-but, Mummy! L-l-loooooooooook!" the four year old cried as he threw his arms around her knees.
"She's little, Landon, she doesn't know any better!" Hermione scolded. "If I see you act up one more time, we're going back to the house! Understand? Time out!" Landon's lip trembled and his big blue eyes filled again, but he kept the tears back as he turned to his father.
"Daddy? W-will you take me in the potion?" Ron nodded, ignoring Hermione's time-out edict and followed the adventurous little boy into the ocean. Of course Hermione was upset, but she and Ron had made a pact a long time ago never to fight in front of the children (Surprisingly, they had managed to stick with that promise for four years. That's not to say that they didn't have their private disagreements) and she kept her word.
That had been in the afternoon. It was almost six now, and she and Emily had been sleeping for almost four hours now. Most families had left the beach, but Ron had not wanted to wake his "two best girls" up from their much-deserved and much-needed nap.
As Hermione opened her eyes, the first thing that she noticed was Emily's hair. The wild ringlets were blowing freely at the absence of the floppy sunbonnet that had adorned her head previously. Hermione shifted her redheaded daughter into a position that wouldn't put so much strain on her little back- she had gradually been slouching lower and lower while she slept- and stroked her rosy, gossamer soft cheek.
Despite her daughter's crankiness, she still loved her with a mother's unconditional love. She twisted one of the red tendrils around her finger, and placed a kiss on her forehead as she leaned down to pick up the white sunbonnet.
Hermione was amazed with her daughter. She had only been alive for a year and a few months- her birthday was in March- and yet she had grown so much. Despite her growth, however, her mother still marvelled at the infinitesimal parts of her little daughter's body. Every part of her was adorable, Hermione thought, right down to her small pink toes and tiny little toenails. Even her feet, which tended to be a less desirable body part, fascinated the young mother. She loved the way that her toes curled when she tickled them; she loved the way Emily kicked when she laughed; she loved the way that she cooed and giggled when happy. There were times during the night when Hermione would wake up after a nightmare that was all too real and she would steal into her daughter's room, delighted to see the gentle rise and fall of her little chest.
"Mummy! Mummy!" she heard a little voice calling. Landon was running up to her, Ron jogging behind him.
"Sh…" Hermione said, putting her finger on her lips as a gesture to silence her son. This had an effect on him, as he stopped and tentatively tiptoed across the sand. She noticed the crab in his hand before he even had to show her. It was evident that Ron had whispered a sedation spell to keep the little creature from clawing at the small hands of its conqueror, but Landon didn't know. He was ever so proud of his discovery.
"Mummy! Look what I found!" he said in a stage whisper.
"Ooh!" said Hermione, pretending to be delighted that there would be a half unconscious crustacean coming back home with them.
"His name is Frank," the boy said proudly.
"Well, what does Frank think about being taken out of his house?"
"His house?"
"Frank lives in the ocean with his family, just like you live with Mummy, Daddy and Emily at our house," Hermione told the young boy who had forgiven her for yelling and was now staring at her with wide, amazed eyes. Hermione hoped that this appeal to her son might convince him out of compassion to leave the sedated crab in the ocean, rather than take him home.
"Tell ya what, Landon," said Ron, plopping himself causally on the sand next to Hermione and now looking up at his son, "Why don't you and I take a walk, and you can find a good place to put Frank so he won't be homesick? We'll find him a good home where his mummy can take care of him."
Landon looked sadly down at the crab, and said through tears, "I just want him to be happy…" Ron and Hermione both choked back the laughter that was threatening to escape their throats, and nodded sombrely at their son's plea. He looked up at them with a firm resolve on his little face and said, "Let's find him a house, Daddy!" before shooting off, Frank in tow, and leaving his father to catch up with him.
Hermione laughed at her tenderhearted son, hoping that he never lost his childlike compassion. Landon was at an impressionable age in which her father could do no wrong. He looked up to him not only physically but mentally as well. He hoped to be 'just like Daddy' when he grew up and often, Hermione caught him trying on his father's oversized shoes, haphazardly tying one of Ron's Muggle ties (compliments of the Grangers) around his neck, pretending to be interested in The Daily Prophet, imitating what Ron said just minutes previously about the Chudley Cannons scores and their potential for the up and coming season, hoping that he could be just like is father.
She hoped that he would be just like his father, too.
She watched as Landon carefully set Frank the Crab down in a pile of driftwood. The sedation spell having worn off, he scuttled away to the unreachable corners of the pile as the little boy waved goodbye to his short-lived pet.
"Come on," she heard Ron say, "Let's go get your mum and go home."
Landon wasn't listening, though. He picked up a piece of driftwood, and ran to the water's edge. Landon had always been afraid of the waves. He refused to go in unless Daddy was with him and could hold him so he wouldn't drown. But now, the young boy was ready to face his fear, it seemed.
He took the driftwood and held it over his head. When the little remnants of what was once a large swell came at him, he swung at it with the board, as if with a bat.
"Take dat!" he yelled at the waves. Ron laughed at the little boy who turned to face him with a huge smile on his face. "They think they're so tough," said Landon, puffing out his little chest, "but I can take em. I'll show em!" He turned back to the waves and struck them with the wood, sending water splattering in all directions. His mother's laughing made Emily stir from her position, so she made sure to keep her amusement to herself.
Her son expressed every perfect childlike naivety that made young couples long for children, young girls itch to play with him, women her age envy her and brought tears to elderly women's eyes. Namely, Molly Weasley's. Young Landon was exactly like Ron was when he was young. He was curious about everything, daring except when it came to a few of his fears, such as spiders, thunder, and waves, and he stopped to question the little things. His small body never ran out of energy, and his bright blue eyes were always sparkling.
She watched as Ron picked up a shell and threw it into the waves. Landon did the same.
She watched as Ron drew a line in the sand with his big toe. Landon did the same.
Ron walked slowly back to where Hermione was sitting with Emily, the wind ruffling his hair and adding to the already picturesque image of father and son.
Landon met his pace, and stretched his small legs in order place them in the footprints that dwarfed his own. They were his daddy's footprints.
Hermione smiled at them as Ron reached down and tousled his son's hair. It all seemed like a dream to her. The two of them had been married for seven years. It seemed like a long time, but they had been friends for so many years before that. They had been in love for years before they were married. They had been married for three years when Landon was born, and Emily was born three years after that. Sure, the road had been bumpy, but it was worth it. He was worth it.
When she was younger, she dreamed of having a family like this. It all seemed very surreal, but she loved it more than anything. Her childlike dreams had become a reality and she was more grateful to Ron than he could possible know. He had taken those dreams, dreams that she dreamed as a child, and turned them into a reality. They were now longer childhood dreams but womanhood realities. Nothing was more precious to her. It was when she looked at her children, when she looked at Ron, and when she saw Ron's tenderness towards her babies that things made sense. She realized that life wasn't about studying, being the cleverest, climbing the corporate ladder and being successful. Life was about love and caring for those whom she loved.
Hermione smiled at them. Ron walking to meet her and Landon walking in his footprints.