One Night Stand
One night of pleasure can lead to a lifetime of pain.
One night of lust can lead to a lifetime of love.
Disclaimer No use lying to myself.
Author's Note Well, let me begin by saying how delighted I am over how many reviews I have. If only you could see how wide my smile is. I would like to again thank everyone. And, although I want to thank each of you personally, I don't think I will. Personal thank-yous will come at the end of this story. I'm glad everyone is enjoying it and I hope you will continue until the end -- and then after. :-) But, anyways, I would like to CLARIFY something for everyone. GINNY IS NOT PREGNANT. And, I never had any intention to write a pregnant Ginny. The conversation between her and Hermione in Chapter 9 was strictly filler. Ginny and Harry had sex on a whim, but, unlike Ron and Hermione, used protection. Ginny believing she is pregnant is just something I think she would think, being Hermione is in the situation she is. So, as some of you said in you reviews, having Ginny be pregnant is very cliché, and I think my story is cliché enough (although I am trying my best to make it not). So, never fear, Ginny is not pregnant. And, for the few who wanted her to be... maybe she will be in the sequel? Who knows?
Chapter 10 Dreaming of Reality
"Ron," I whispered. "Ron."
"Mione," Ron moaned, grudgingly, refusing to wake up.
"Ron, I had another dream." He sighed and turned over to face me. His red hair shone in the moonlight, and I smiled slightly, thanking him. He nodded and looked at me expectantly. I didn't open my mouth to speak, and after several seconds of silence, Ron moved his head closer and kissed me gently on the lips. When he pulled away, I could see how sincere his eyes were, and that gave me the courage I needed. "I had a dream about the baby's birth."
"Again?" Ron asked, his mouth forming a worried frown. This, in fact, was not the first dream I had had detailing the baby's birth. They had started almost a week and a half ago and each one followed the other in one form or the other. The first one had been of me and Bill rushing to the hospital, Bill frantic, trying to get in touch with his parents or Ron. The second and third were of me in a room at St. Mungo's, and I could remember everything in those dreams. From the way I felt, to the pink curtains hanging in the window. The actual birthing process came next, on the night of Harry's birthday, in fact, and I had woke up screaming from the pain I was experiencing in my dream. And, now-- this one was by far the worst.
"Yes," I mumbled. "Again."
"Well?" he asked, clearly wanting to get this over with so he could go back to sleep.
"This time-- This time--" I couldn't finished and I began to sob. Ron's eyes softened, and he enveloped his arms around me.
"Shh, Hermione, it's ok."
"No, Ron," I choked. "It was terrible." He slowly rocked me back and forth, back and forth. Neither of us spoke, and the only noise in the room was my crying and the rhythmic tick-tock of the bedside clock. I knew Ron didn't expect me to go on, but I finally stopped my crying enough to tell him.
"You don't have to tell me," he quickly replied, when I opened my mouth to begin. I shook my head.
"No. I do." Yawning, I sat up slightly, resting my bed against the headboard. "I was lying in the hospital bed. You were standing next to me, holding my hand. We were both staring at the double doors, waiting. It seemed like it was forever, but I kept looking at the clock, and it couldn't have been more than ten minutes. And, then finally, the Healer came into the room. We were both smiling, but upon seeing the Healer's grim face, our smiles faded. The Healer looked at me, and then to you, and then told us--" The tears returned, but I continued. "She told us that we'd lost the baby. The baby didn't make it, Ron." I out right bawled at those words and Ron sat up, facing me.
"Hermione," he whispered, cupping my chin in his hands. "Look at me. It was just a dream. Dreams tell us nothing. You don't believe in Divination, remember?" He smiled, trying to lighten the mood, but it wasn't helping. "Alright, I'm sorry. But, seriously, love, you need to stop looking into these dreams, these feelings so much. It's not worth it. You're supposed to be excited about this. So far, you've only managed to scare yourself."
I nodded, trying to show I understood what he was saying, although I didn't. Not really, anyway.
"Listen," Ron continued. "In a mere four weeks, you are going to give birth to our child. And, nothing, Mione, nothing is going to go wrong. You're going to give birth to a beautiful, healthy, perfect boy or girl. Understand?" I nodded. "Good," he replied, and he threw his arms around me. I snaked my arms around his neck as he held me close. When he pulled away, an ear to ear grin was plastered on his face.
"What?" I asked.
He grabbed my hand and placed it on my stomach. "Does that feel like a baby who will be anything but perfect?"
"Ginny?" I asked, the next day after breakfast. We had retreated to Fred and George's old room, which was now the nursery. I was sitting in the rocking chair, absentmindedly turning the teddy bear I held over and over in my hands. Ginny stood at the dresser, folding some baby clothes Mrs. Weasley had gotten yesterday at Diagon Alley.
"Hmm?"
"Are you happy or disappointed that you aren't pregnant?"
My question caught her off guard. "What do you mean?"
"I dunno. Ever since we went to get you that muggle pregnancy test, I haven't been able to tell how you feel."
"Again," she said, closing the top dresser drawer, "what do you mean?"
"Never mind," I said, standing and placing the bear on the chair. I started to walk out of the nursery, when Ginny grabbed my arm.
Her bottom lip trembled as she fought back tears. Her eyes held more sadness than I had seen in years. I hugged her as she tried to form the words, but she couldn't do anything but mutter. Finally, I pulled away from her and spoke.
"Ginny? Do you want to have a baby?" I asked.
"I dunno. I don't think I do. But having that possibility..." she trailed off, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"I understand," I replied. "More than anyone. But, be thankful you're not. You should have a baby when you are truly ready. Don't end up like me, Ginny. You don't want this."
Ginny's head shot up. "Don't say that," she snapped. She gave me a look of hatred and turned from me. "There is nothing wrong with the way you are now, Mione. And you have no right talking like that."
"What is that suppose to mean?" I said, walking up behind her. She was looking out the window into the yard. Harry and Ron were flying, tossing apples between themselves. Ginny's eyes were focused intently on Ron.
"Before you got pregnant, what were you and Ron?" I didn't answer. "You were friends. Friends, Hermione, who couldn't see passed the ends of their noses. And then, one night, you and Ron did something that you shouldn't have done. But, that didn't matter. What mattered was that you did it. Your action had a consequence, and you became pregnant. Now, Hermione, I have a question for you. If you could go back to that night, would you change it?"
"Yes," I answer almost immediately. Ginny faced me and narrowed her eyes.
"And if you did change what happened, do you know what you and Ron would be?" Her voice was harsh. She took a step forward and looked into my eyes. "Friends," she said firmly. "You would still be friends. Nothing more, nothing less. Is that what you want?"
"No," I whispered, tears forming behind my eyes.
"That's what I thought," Ginny said, making her way to the door. "Think about that next time you question how you ended up."
With roughly a week and a half until my due date, I didn't do much but sleep and go to the bathroom. I didn't have the energy for anything else. I wouldn't have gotten out of bed to go downstairs and eat if it wasn't for Mrs. Weasley. I didn't want her to help me, but she did anyway. I was grateful, though, because without her constant nagging, I wouldn't eat at all. Ginny's words had left me depressed. And, even though she knew it, Ginny would not apologize for what she had said. I didn't blame her, though. No one should have to apologize for speaking the truth. Because of that, I refused to tell Ron the real reason for my depression and told him every time that I didn't know why I was feeling so down. He had it in his mind it was the dreams. He continued to insist I keep my mind off of them, and finally, he told Fred and George that he was taking the week off to stay home with me, afraid that I would do something stupid.
It was nice to have Ron with me, but at times I wished he would go back to work. He was always there, and he was like a Mrs. Weasley in training. All he did was nag me to do this, do that. I locked myself in the bathroom at one point, forgetting that a simple lock would not keep him out, and I cursed myself for ever showing him 'Alohomora' in first year. When he asked me why I was avoiding him, I started crying, and that worked as well as a repelling charm. If there was one thing Ron did not want me doing, it was crying. One tear and I could make him say or do anything I wanted.
"If you want me to back off, Mione, I will," he said, standing in the doorway of the bathroom. I was leaning against the wall, my hands brought up, covering my eyes. I nodded, sobbing loudly, and he muttered an 'I love you' and left.
He tried to avoid me the entire day, only talking to me when I acknowledged him first. When Mr. Weasley noticed what he was doing that night at dinner, he laughed aloud. Everyone looked up at him, confused, but he continued to laugh. And, then Fred, the only other person who seemed to be in on the joke, starting laughing, too. Harry and George were exchanging glances, and Ginny was trying to question her mother, but Mrs. Weasley let out a chuckle. When the laughter got to be too much, Ron put down his fork and looked at his father.
"What is so bloody funny, then?"
"Well, I just lost five galleons," Fred said.
"Why?" asked George, eyeing his brother suspiciously.
"Dad and I made a bet," Fred explained. "I said that since Ron went this long without avoiding Hermione and her hormones, he could last til the actual birth. Dad disagreed."
"What?" Ron said, jaw practically dropping. "You had no right to do something like that."
"Oh, Ron, leave them be," Mrs. Weasley said, glancing at Ron's angry face and then to her husband. "Good thing we know our children better than they know each other, Arthur."
"Yes," Mr. Weasley replied, smiling.
"I hate you guys," Ron muttered, standing.
"If it makes you feel any better, Ron," Fred called, "Mum and Dad made the same bet on me when Mackenzie was pregnant."
"Who won?" Ron asked, turning from the backdoor.
"Mum."
Ron looked to Mr. Weasley and smiled. "Figures." And with that he left the kitchen and made his way into the backyard.
After dinner, I went to find Ron. He was sitting in the garden, head up, looking up at the sky. He looked down as I approached and smiled, scooting over so I could sit next to him.
"What are you doing?" I asked, watching as he gaze once again returned to the sky.
"Counting the stars," he replied simply.
"Why?"
"Dunno. It's just something I do when I'm trying to forget."
"What's there to forget?" I asked, bewildered.
"The time before you." He put his arm around me and leaned his head down to kiss me. I brought my hand up to Ron's face, and willingly returned the kiss. I was amazed by how sweet he could be sometimes, disbelieving that this was really Ron Weasley. He had never been this sensitive, never this romantic. And, all of a sudden, he was the kind of guy every girl wished for. What had I done to deserve him? Nothing, in my opinion, but the fact of the matter was, I had him. I was very disappointed when Ron broke the kiss.
"We shouldn't be doing this out here. Mum would have kittens."
I nodded, and rested my head on his shoulder, my eyes gazing upward. I began to count the stars, as Ron had, except with each star I matched it with everyday I wanted to remember, not forget. All the good times, from getting my acceptance letter to Hogwarts, to graduating as a fully qualified witch. Ron broke my reverie by shifting his body and laying his head on my stomach.
"Have you thought of any names?" He said, tracing circles on my thigh.
"Sorta. A couple months back, Harry, Ginny, and I touched on the subject."
"Did you come up with anything?" Ron asked, his fingers moving to my inner thigh.
"They weren't any kind of help. I like the names Carlee and Aiden, though."
"I don't really like Carlee. Aiden, I like."
"Well, do you have any ideas?" I inquired, moving his hand away. He sat up, a puppy dog look on his face because I had ended his fun.
"Nah."
"Come on, Ron."
"Hmm.." He was silent and I went to back to looking at the stars. "I like Michael. And, I like Kaitlyn, too."
"Kaitlyn... I like that."
"Me too," Ron added sarcastically. I pursed my lips together and rolled my eyes.
"Smartass," I muttered. "Why'd you bring up names, anyway?"
"I think we should go ahead and decide on the baby's name. I don't want the baby to be born beforehand and us not know what to name him or her."
"Ok. Any ideas?"
"Well," he answered. "What if we combine the names we like. Cover both the first and middle names at the same time."
"So, Aiden Michael? Michael Aiden?"
"Aiden Michael," we agreed at the same time.
"And the girl," I began. "Carlee and Kaitlyn don't go together either way." I made a face to emphasize my point.
"You're right. As always," he added as an afterthought, giving me a teasing grin.
"Shut up," I retorted playfully.
"But, seriously," Ron started. "Is there any other girl's names you like."
"Well, there is Elizabeth, but that's so common--" Ron cut me off.
"Kaitlyn Elizabeth. I like it."
"Has a nice ring to it," I decided, smiling.
"So, it's settled then. If it's a boy, his name shall be Aiden Michael. And if it's a girl, we'll name her Kaitlyn Elizabeth."
With a week til my due date, I figured it would be best to make amends with Ginny. She was, after all, my best friend, and I didn't need to be fighting with her. At first, when I tried to apologize, she refused to forgive me. She told me that what I had said was completely out of line. I agreed with her, but was told if I really did, I wouldn't have said it in the first place. Ginny and I talked for several hours, and even then, I knew she had forgiven me, but she certainly wouldn't forget. For now, that was fine, as long as I had my best friend back.
Harry was talking more, and he seemed very energetic. He was constantly bouncing around the Burrow, especially in and out of the baby's nursery. He would come in and help arrange or put something together, and not ten minutes later, he was back, just making sure it was perfect. He was back to acting the way he had when I first told him I was pregnant. Protective and concerned. If I had been standing on my feet for too long, he would send me to bed. If I didn't go back for seconds at mealtimes, he was worried about my food intake. We were all highly amused by this, and we didn't stop him. There would have been no use in it anyway. When Harry got an idea in his head, he didn't let it go.
As the 27th of August drew nearer, I became very apprehensive. I was checking and rechecking that everything was ready. In a way, my behavior was very similar to Harry's. If something was out of place, I had to fix it. My biggest pet peeve was how the baby's clothes were folded. I spent the good part of my days folding and refolding outfits and socks. When Ron discovered what I was doing, he would purposely spend his lunch hour standing in the nursery doorway laughing and shaking his head at me. When he got annoying I would throw a sock bundle at him, and in turn, he would throw it back. We had many afternoon sock fights, me winning every one.
Three days before the baby was to be born, I woke up to discover everyone in the Weasley household had gone out. Bill, who was home for a vacation, was left to stay at the Burrow with me. This was not unusual. Since the end of July, someone always had to be at home with me, under the strict orders of Mrs. Weasley. Anyone who left me alone was to face her wrath. I, personally, thought it was unnecessary. After all, I was old enough to take care of myself. But, on this particular morning, I was very glad someone was at home with me.
I had just finished going to the loo, and was approaching the bottom of the stairs when something happened that shouldn't have been happening yet. My water had broken.
"Bill," I said, my voice barely above a whisper, hoping beyond hope he could hear me.
Author's Note Cliffhanger!! My first, I think. Sorry this chapter was short. I tried to make it longer, but it just wasn't working. I think I did pretty good, considering. Anyways... next chapter is the last chapter. There may or may not be an epilogue, and if there is, it definitely won't make the February 6th deadline. Don't worry though, at the rate I'm going, I will make the deadline for the actual story. And, there will be a sequel. Although I'm thinking that my idea for the sequel doesn't exactly match what you are thinking, but hopefully, you will like it just as much. Please leave a review. Chapter 11 will be out within the week.