The Plan

Disclaimer – Ms Rowlings, not mine.

Chapter 10

Hard Day's Night.

His wife was up to something, he was sure of it.

Her stance as she gazed out over the misty grass was too serious, right down to the way her arms crossed over her belly and the set of her jaw. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen; her hair caught and twisted in the wind and he knew that later she would be annoyed by the numbers of knots and twists it gathered. And even though the swell of her belly made her shoulders slump to hold the extra weight, even though her skin was overly pale and she had dark circles under her eyes; he could have stood and stared at her all day. Pride swelled in him, she was carrying his child and she was his not only to stare at, but to hold until his hair was grey. (Or more likely than not, bald with sprinkles of ginger hair and lot's and lot's of wrinkles…)  

He saw her shiver and pull her cloak tighter. Concerned, he thought of going out their again and demanding she come inside or least put some more clothes on. He noticed his scarf and cloak hanging by the back door, and made a decision.

* * *

Hermione turned her head slightly in his direction but did not look at him. He wrapped his scarf around her neck and covered them both with his cloak, snuggling in to her from behind. Neither of them said anything for a long time, both content to let Ron try to rub some warmth back in to her limbs. The wind howled, snapping at there clothing and biting at their faces. 

"You're freezing," he whispered eventually against her neck and he felt her shiver.

"I'm fine," she said as he kissed her neck.

"You're up to something."

"I have absolutely no idea what you are insinuating," she replied, cringing even as she heard the slight trill in her voice.

"I wasn't insinuating anything - I was asking what you are up to," he answered in that damned calm voice. Well two could play that game.

"What gave you the impression I was up to something?" she asked calmly.

"You're too quiet."

"I'm always quiet…"

He snorted.

"…I use the silence for inner reflection," she continued, ignoring his outburst.

Grinning he said, "Well try not to reflect on anything dangerous."

"What's the worst I could do?" she asked.

"You're actually expecting me to answer that?" he asked.

"I'm sure you know what's good for you."

"Oh, I am, don't you worry. Wha's wrong?" he asked when she suddenly stiffened.

"It kicked, it takes me by surprise sometimes," she replied, rubbing her stomach.

"Really? Did it hurt?" he asked with excitement.

"Thank you for your concern."

"Sorry," he said sheepishly, but he couldn't help smiling against her neck.

Hermione wished she could share his enthusiasm, and she could, up to a certain point. But, she'd read every book, magazine and even carried out extensive research by means of an interviewing and reviewing system, of people who had either been through or in close proximity of a birth… until she'd been thrown out of every hospital in the region. And she had come to the conclusion that it would be extremely unpleasant and hurt a lot, and why oh why hadn't nature come up with something better? She wished the whole thing was over and done with; she'd waited long enough and was ready for the bowling ball to get out of her womb.

"Oy Ron mate! You gotta see this, Charlie's only gone and got him self stuck!" yelled George in excitement.

Ron sighed and pulled her towards the door. Hermione heaved herself up the back door steps ungracefully and entered a Weasley filled kitchen.

Charlie's boot hung down from the chimney, swinging back and fore as he fought with something.

"Charlie?" Ron called, trying to look up and see what his brother was doing. "What you up to?"

"Leaning nuh shimney! Ders somefing up 'ere" called Charlie, as a rain of soot hit Ron in the face, much to the further amusement of everyone else. Spluttering, Ron wiped his face and decided not to ask why he could hear a definite squawking sound. Wiping away the layers of dirt from his robes, he looked perplexed. Hermione felt her heart flutter; he really was the most gorgeous wizard alive, even covered in soot.

~*~

The next day

Hermione shoved her hands into the pockets of her coat and huddled against the cold. The path was overgrown in places and decorated with muddy puddles, thawing with the spring rains. Tiny buds were beginning to appear on the trees and shrubbery of the wood, coming to life as the change in the wind signalled growth, like an invisible traffic signal. Hermione grinned, spring was always her favourite. But the signs of winter still lurked in the corners, patchy grass, dead foliage and the deep base smell of earth.

Hermione weaved between two trees and carefully crossed a small stream, swelled with melting ice and rain. For the first time since she'd set out a flicker of doubt crossed her mind. Maybe she shouldn't have come here. But the idea of sitting at the Burrow, harassed by Weasley's reminded her how she needed to come here.

Hermione was four days overdue. Everyone in the house was high strung and tense, it was like living with a thousand expectant fathers. It even seemed to be affecting Harry, who'd taken to finding things to fix. On Monday he'd sat for 3 and half hours piecing together a broken china teapot. Hermione hadn't even been aware it was broken.

But the worst was Mrs Weasley; she kept fussing and giving Hermione details that she really didn't want. It would be better when she had her own space she told herself while gritting her teeth, as soon as the floor was finished, they could move in and be a well adjusted, magical family… well, she could hope.

But this morning she'd sat on the edge of her empty bed, staring out through the faded curtains and the sun had shone. And an overwhelming desire to be outside, with fresh air and no fussing Weasley's had knocked her over the head. Knowing that no one would agree, she'd snuck out the invisibility clock that Harry was still making good use of, especially for a certain red head, and disappeared out the back and into the woods.

A huge oak tree was sitting by the stream, gnarled roots drinking from the river. Hermione took a deep breath and looked for somewhere to rest her weary feet. An old crate washed up on a small bank looked sturdy enough. She prodded it carefully before attempting to transfigure it in to something more comfortable. The result was a little more than planned, but Hermione sunk down in to the puffy settee anyway and relaxed. She smiled contently, gave a deep sigh and… relaxed.

Hermione was well read, everyone knew this, but had she gone to a Muggle High School she might have known a bit more about biochemical processes… Because Hermione's body relaxed, or more precisely her muscles relaxed, sending small impulses along her nerves which told these cells to release hormones, which swirled through her blood stream and told other cells to release other hormones… and something began.

~*~

"Where the hell is she?" he cried, slamming opening doors and looking around.

"Uh Ron, why would Hermione be in a cupboard?" asked George.

"Shut up," snapped Ron.

"Well she can't have gone far dear, she's probably got impatient and went out for a walk," said Mrs Weasley from the kitchen. "You know, the Twins were almost born in the middle of a field."

Ron strode over to the front door and grabbed his scarf. The whole house shook when he shut the door behind him.

"Harry dear-"

But Harry didn't have time to answer as he disappeared out the door behind his best friend. 

~*~

"Oh dear," she said. She heaved herself out of the chair and lent against the tree. She took deep breaths like it said in all the books, and wondered what she could do. She imagined the twins would never let her forget this one… The pain in her back was almost unbearable, but she focused on walking forwards. She focused on reaching the next tree, and shuffled forwards on the uneven ground. The pain built and she almost collapsed. She leant for what seemed like eternity until the pain became bearable and looked at the small stream. It trickled gently over the rocks and stones, innocently meandering through the trees. Hermione had never seen such a big stream, the other side looked so far away… she sucked in a breath and moved towards it. She managed to gingerly get across the water with only one wet foot, due to insecure stone, and was resting against the next tree before she knew it. Slowly she went, tree to tree, following the path when she found it, until the woods ended and she stood at the end of a children's park.

She looked around at the unfamiliar swings and slides, filled with Muggle children out enjoying the dry morning. A few mothers stood gossiping by the fence, and an old blind man sat on a bench with his dog not far from Hermione.

"Sandra?" he asked, his head inclined in her direction.

"Yes Dad?" answered a woman as she broke off from the group of chattering mothers. She noticed Hermione and paused, looking suspiciously in the direction of the woods.

"Wha's wrong Sand?" asked another mother.

Hermione's heart sank, she'd somehow taken the wrong path… she looked back into the woods, not knowing how far back she would have to go.

"Are you alright love?" asked the woman, placing a hand on Hermione's arm.

"What were you doing in the woods?" asked Sandra.

"Walking…" she said taking a deep breath and leaning against the surprised woman.

"Elly, I think she's pregnant. Although you can hardly tell under all those, erm… dresses."

Hermione suddenly realised what she must look like to the Muggle women, clad in green robes and appearing out of the woods.

"I live on the other side of the woods…" Hermione supplied. This seemed to mean something to the women, because they exchanged looks.

"How about we get you to a hospital?" said Elly kindly.

"No!" she yelled, causing both women to startle, "I mean, I need to get home."

"Alright," said Elly, producing a mobile phone, "what's your number?"

"We don't have a phone," Hermione said apologetically, before sitting by the old man on the bench.

"Alright, I have my car, do you live far?" asked Sandra.

"Oh… I'm not sure," said Hermione, looking around puzzled. Normally she would get to the Weasley's by Apparition. She'd never needed to know the muggle address, and she wasn't even sure the muggles would be able to find it. She was fairly certain that it had anti-muggle wards around it.

The women stared at her.

"How about we take you to the local clinic? They'll be able to help," said Elly gently.

Hermione sighed and felt like crying. Pain was starting to build again, but also fear. She desperately wanted Ron, she didn't want to give birth in a muggle hospital surrounded by strangers… She kept thinking this as she was lead to the local clinic and they rang an ambulance. She sat on the bench, breathing gently as the odd looking nurse instructed her to do as she chattered way inanely, asking the odd question but not waiting for an answer.

The ambulance appeared outside, and panic overwhelmed Hermione like a tidal wave. The nurse tried helplessly to keep her calm, just as a particularly painful contraction started. Hermione couldn't help it, she lashed out… She didn't even know how she did it, but one minute she was surrounded by a nurse and paramedics… and the next, three pigs where shuffling around the small room, fighting over the contents of the bin. Hermione started crying, she just wanted to go home…

As two ministry officials appeared, Hermione vanished.

~*~

"Hey Ron, look at this!" called Harry.

They both looked down at the blue settee in the middle of the woods.

~*~

Hermione landed on the settee with a thump and looked up into the smiling face of Mrs Weasley.

"Now dear, what's this about you going out for a walk in your condition?" she asked, but smiled.

"I… ahhh," said Hermione, gripping Mrs Weasley's hand, "need bathroom…"

"Up you get then dear," she said, helping her daughter-in-law to stand. They struggled up the stairs, regularly taking short breaks, until finally Hermione was led in to the bathroom.

~*~

Thomas Diggling looked around the spectacle.

"What the...?" he began, as a pig started sniffling at his shoe.

"I'll call in the reversal squad, shall I?" asked his partner.

"What? Oh, yes, of course… and I'll start interrogating the witnesses…" he looked down at the pig.

~*~

Harry and Ron burst in through the front doors, "Mummmm?" yelled Ron.

They were just about to check the garden, when they heard crying from upstairs. Ron paled and leapt up the stairs two at a time. He slammed the bedroom door open and stood hypnotised by the sight of his wife leaning against the window damp hair matted down her back.

"Harry dear, would you go get Mr Weasley?" asked Mrs Weasley, giving Harry a bit of a shake to get his attention.

"Wha? Oh yes…" Harry took off like a shot, goal in mind.

"Ron?" Hermione looked up at him, fear obvious on her face. Ron broke out of his trance and gave her a hug. Mrs Weasley gave him a damp cloth and he looked at it helplessly.

~*~

The living room was packed with Weasley's, most of whom where pacing and looking at the clock. Mr Weasley sat in his chair, relaxing with a newspaper.

"Dad? How can you be so calm??" asked Percy.

He handed Percy a flask.

Percy looked at it with disgust, sniffing the contents. "You didn't actually drink this…" Hermione gave a small cry and Percy drank deeply. So deeply in fact, that Mr Weasley had to pry the flask from his hands.

~*~

Hermione lay back on the bed, exhausted. Mrs Weasley placed a wrinkled bundle of wailing flesh in to her arms and Hermione had never seen something so beautiful. Ron kissed her deeply, smiling through tears at her.

"Thank you," he said, "you are the most beautiful things I have ever seen."

Mrs Weasley blew her nose and asked, "What are you going to call her?"

"Meredith Wealsey," said Ron and Hermione's smile widened.

The End of the Last Chapter

Authors note – I'm sorry it's taken such a dreadfully long time to get this last chapter out!

I will write an epilogue, then it will be finished.

There was no way I would have managed this story with out everyone's kind reviews, so thank you everyone!

I hope this last chapter was worth the wait.