Chapter 33
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Last time I checked I was just a poor college student. (looks around) Yup. Nothing has changed. JKR owns every character and magical object you recognize. This poor college student only owns this little bit of plot.
A/N: Ah, chapter 33. A powerful number, 33. Jesus was 33 when he died on the cross. Thomas Jefferson was 33 when he wrote the Declaration of Independence. William Shakespeare was 33 when he wrote Romeo & Juliet. And we get to see Ron again, though he is not 33. You catch my drift.
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Ron never thought babysitting would be fun. Then again, he'd never really imagined babysitting his own children, at least not at this young age, any way. Of course, things don't always work out the way one plans. And at this point Ron was glad.
He was sprawled on the floor of Hermione's hotel room teaching his little girls the finer points of exploding snap. It had been far too long since he had indulged in a game.
Molly laughed. "Thisfun, Daddy!"
"And you didn't want to play. Really, Molly, afraid of getting in trouble. You, most definitely, are your mother's daughter."
Jane was intent in building a house out of the cards. She had finally gotten the hang of constructing a one-level house. She was trying to put a card on top for the sixth or seventh time when the whole thing exploded.
Ron laughed at his daughter's stunned face. Her face was now dirtied with soot. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up."
"Daddy!" Molly cried.
Ron turned around. "Yes, Molly?"
She was pointing to the carpet, completely horrified.
Then Ron saw what she was worried about. They had burned the carpet. The nice, white carpet. Hermione would have his head.
He looked around for some piece of furniture to pull over the spot, but soon realized this was a fruitless endeavor. Hermione was sure to notice if the sofa was in the middle of the living room floor when she came back.
Jane looked it. "Magic it?" she asked desperately, obviously afraid that she was in trouble with her father.
Ron smiled. "Of course. Why didn't I think of that?" He pulled out his wand. "Evanseco!"
And the burn mark disappeared.
"Wow!" Jane giggled. "Magic!"
"Just wait until you go to Hogwarts. It's wicked what all you learn."
"Iked?" Jane asked.
Ron laughed. "Yeah. Come on, let's actually get you cleaned up this time."
Molly looked up at her father. "Don't tell Mummy?"
"Yeah, she doesn't have to know. It's all better anyway."
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Ron never knew how difficult it was to get two little brats, um, children to go to bed. He really had to hand it to Lupin and Tonks, having had to deal with Sirius for three years.
Of course, there was only one of Sirius. He had two little girls to deal with. Two little girls who built off one another and always seemed to run in two opposite directions, squealing all the way.
If he had any hair left by the end of the day, it would be a miracle. Scratch that, if he was alive at the end of the day, he would consider himself lucky.
At this particular time, Molly and Jane were jumping on Hermione's bed, throwing pillows at him. "Girls, stop that! You need to go to bed!"
"No bed! No nap!" They cried in unison.
"Yes. Your mother will have my hide if you don't take a nap while she's at work."
They paid no attention to him.
"I'll buy you each a chocolate frog if you go to bed!"
Immediately the girls stopped bouncing. "Kay!" Molly cried.
The two girls lay down on the bed and allowed their father to tuck them in.
"Sleep tight, girls," Ron said, yawning. He turned off the light and closed the door.
"Night," one called sleepily.
Ron went back to the living room area and lay down on the sofa. The cushions were so soft, and he was so tired…
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Ron woke up to a scream. A very loud, very angry scream.
"RONALD BILIUS WEASLEY!"
He jerked awake. "Hermione?"
"Were you asleep?"
"Er…" Ron felt his ears turn scarlet. "Just for a bit."
Hermione's eyes flashed as she tossed her purse down on the floor. "A bit is all it takes with twins. Look around."
Ron managed to tear his eyes from Hermione (who looked scary, but brilliant when angry) and survey the room around them.
It was chaos. Utter chaos.
The clean white carpet was covered in toys and chocolate. There were stick drawings and doodles all over the walls in a very familiar color of pink. Then he noticed the lipstick tube on the floor next to the, um, mural. Hermione's makeup.
"Bugger it!" he cried, running to the bedroom. The bed was in disarray, its blankets and sheets ripped off the mattress and thrown on the floor. Makeup was plastered on the walls like graffiti here too, but it was the purples and greens of eye shadow and the black of eyeliner and mascara.
Then Ron caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. "Those little brats put makeup on me!"
"Those little brats are you children and were your responsibility! Honestly, falling asleep while watching them…" she muttered. "Is that water running?"
The two entered the bathroom and found Jane and Molly in a puddle of water. The bathtub was overflowing, while three rubber ducks floated lazily on top.
"Look, Mummy! Pond!" Molly cried.
"Yes, dear, I see. Let's turn the water off, though. You don't want to get your clothes any wetter."
As Hermione leaned over to turn off the water, Ron surveyed his two daughters. Both wore so much makeup they appeared clownish. Their hair was limp and dark with water, as were there clothes. Their teeth bore the stains of what Ron was sure had been the chocolate frogs he had been hiding from them.
"Come on dears," Hermione said. "Let's get you cleaned up. To the kitchen." After the twins left, Hermione eyed Ron. "I'll deal with you later."
Thirty minutes later, the girls were clean and eating their dinner in the kitchen. Hermione and Ron were trying to clean up the mess in the living room."
"Evanseco! Ron cried, pointing his wand at the artwork on the walls. To his horror and dismay, the entire wall disappeared.
"Hey!" The couple in the next room cried. "It's our honeymoon!"
"Sorry," Ron muttered.
"Amateur," Hermione sighed. "Aparecium!" she cried, and the wall was back in place. "You held your wand wrong. "Evanseco!" The twins artwork was nothing but a dim memory.
"I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU WENT TO BED!" Hermione finally screamed. "They could have drowned in the bathtub! I mean, they're only two! If they had drowned…"
"Yes, Hermione. I'm sorry," Ron sighed, giving her his best puppy eyes.
"And look at the mess they made! My makeup ruined!"
"Yes, Hermione, I'm sorry."
"And they ate all that sugar! They won't go to bed for hours now!"
"Yes, Hermione, I'm sorry."
Hermione went on and on. Ron found it increasingly harder to pay attention to what she was saying. She looked so hot when she was angry. Everyone at Hogwarts thought he was being stupid when he riled her up. Oh no, he had always known exactly what he was doing.
"Yes, Hermione, I'm sorry."
"Guess what I found out at work today?"
"Yes, Hermione, I'm sorry."
"Are you even paying attention to me?" Hermione cried indignantly.
"Oh. Yes. No. Er, maybe?"
Hermione sighed. She stood on tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. "Well, at least you're honest." She looked at the sofa. "We'd better sit down. This is going to be a bit of a shock for you."
"You aren't pregnant are you?"
"What? No, of course not." She paused. "Would that be a bad thing?"
"With those two terrors, yes." He sat down on the sofa. "Okay, hit me with it."
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A/N: Wow, a long chapter again. Wow, I've missed those. Sorry for the wait, but I had to contend with extreme exhaustion and severe writer's block. I'm evil, I know, but some of your questions about the artifact will be answered next chapter. At least, what I know about the artifact. It's still keeping some of its secrets from me…
Special thanks to my wonderful beta jwoods471 for giving me some ideas for this chapter. She came up with the idea of the makeup fiasco, and reminded me that two-year-olds in an overflowing bath is a bad idea. Check out her story Forgotten Memory. (PLUG: Hermione is pregnant. Who is the father? Wouldn't she love to know!) Also check out JohnCardy87's story Harry Potter & the Heir of Gryffindor. (PLUG: What's poo powder? Why is Mrs. Weasley's hand pointed to moral peril? And what will the couples get each other for Christmas?)