Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter
A/N: Three more chapters. They're al done, I just like making you guys wait. Please review-Cole
On January 3, Angelina gave birth to a red haired, brown eyed, oak skinned little boy named George Karl Weasley. George was as bad as his name sake, and as soon as he was able to crawl, trouble was everywhere. Two months later, Alicia and Lee celebrated the birth of their baby boy, Franklin George Jordan. Frankie had straight black hair and hazel eyes, just like his mother, but he was definitely his father's son. He was as bad as George Jr. when it came to trouble, and by the age of one the two were inseparable.
It seemed as if Angelina and Fred loved babies a bit too much, "or at least the process of making them" as Harry so kindly put it. On August third, exactly eight months after George's birth, Angelina was announced pregnant, again, much to the delight of Fred. This time, he promised Bill the spot of Godfather, so he said Harry would just have to wait for the third child, Lee had been named Godfather of the Weasleys' first born and vice-versa.
Eleven days later, Harry found himself in the hospital, yet again. This time, he was holding a little girl with auburn hair and nutmeg colored eyes. She was calm and peaceful, just like her mother, but she had her father's mischievous eyes. Her name was Sophia Remembrance.
"Harry Potter, bring back my baby girl NOW!" Hermione called from her bed. Harry complied muttering something like, "pregnant women…so emotional."
"Ah, but I'm not pregnant anymore Harry, so I can catch up with you now," Hermione corrected him, "And get back at you for all the teasing I was forced to suffer through during little Sophia's pregnancy." Harry visibly paled and Ron clapped him on the back.
"Now Hermione, we can't kill Sophia's Godfather until after the christening," Ron reminded his wife.
Harry smiled and then looked at Ron, bewildered, "Wait, seriously, you're naming me the Godfather?"
"Of course you prat, who else would we ask?" Ron replied.
"Well, I figured Fred or Bill or someone…" Harry replied, "They are your brothers."
"Harry, you're my brother too," Ron reminded him.
"And mine, so you were the logical choice. If we both viewed you as closer than blood, then you would be the perfect Godfather," Hermione concluded.
"Thanks guys," Harry replied as he stole Sophia from her mother again, "That means a lot to me."
"Can I please have my baby back?" Hermione begged.
"No," Harry smirked as she tried to grab him, "Sophia needs to spend time with Uncle Harry, and mum needs to rest." Hermione agreed and sunk down into the pillows, she was asleep within minutes.
On September 15, Harry and Hermione were out shopping for a crib for Sophia. Ron had to go in early for his shift, and Harry wasn't due in until three, so they had a good three hours of alone time to catch up. Hermione and Harry were siblings in everyway but blood, and they loved each other unconditionally. Ron would sometimes joke that Hermione loved Harry more than him, and while he thought it to be a joke, Hermione and Harry knew it was the truth. What ever bond they had was forged at the beginning of time, never to be broken.
"I want something portable," Hermione stated as they walked into the baby store.
"I want it to look nice," Harry continued.
"I want it to be wooden," Hermione replied, "Like the olden day cribs."
"I want a-"Harry began but was cut off by the saleswoman.
"Can I help you two lovebirds?" The woman asked. Then she surveyed them quickly and said, "Oh, Mr. Potter, Mrs. Weasley, very sorry about the mistake. It's just that couples usually come in here together. Unless you-"
"No, NO," Hermione replied, stupefied at the idea, "Harry's just helping me out since Ron is at work."
"Oh, alright, please follow me," the sales woman stated. The two followed closely behind.
Harry leaned in to Hermione and whispered, "Would it really be that bad to be married to me?"
"Yes," Hermione whispered back, "It would be like marrying my own brother." This caused Harry to laugh and the two followed the saleswoman to the back, where the "best" cribs were kept.
An hour later, Harry and Hermione were pointlessly wandering the streets; Sophia nestled in Hermione's arms, when someone shot a spell at Harry. Harry turned around fast enough to block it and send a tracking spell.
"Are you alright?" he asked Hermione.
"Yes, I'm fine, a bit shaken up tis all," she regained her composure, "Who was that?"
"Sandra," Harry replied, the tracking spell having worked successfully.
"Where is she now?" Hermione asked.
"She apparated," Harry replied, "C'mon, we have to report this."
And so the two of them floo-ed to Hermione's house, dropped off the crib, and floo-ed to the Ministry to report the crime.
