A/N: Hiiii. So I have no excuse except life happening and time slipping away. But here I am and I've been trying to figure out what to write for April. I had an idea but didn't know what to do with it and suddenly tonight I started writing and I couldn't stop and this is longer than my usual drabbles but hopefully you guys won't complain! It's a little different too I think so I hope you'll like it. I'll shut up now, and will work on May. Bye!


61. April

She looks around the apartment and sense the tears rising. She'd like to blame the hormones on this but she's pretty sure that she saw Ron get teary earlier too and she's fairly certain he isn't seven months pregnant too.

This is their first place. The first flat where it was just the two of them. And now they are moving out because they'll be three soon and they needed a bigger place for their family. A house. Her heart does some somersaults every time she thinks about their new house. Some days she looks back at what her life has been and she can't really believe how she got where she is today.

They finished moving all the furnitures and boxes an hour ago, leaving the flat empty of its memories of the two of them. She stares at the living room, it seems bigger somehow now that it's empty. Less welcoming.

She looks around, stocking up memories made within these walls, trying to mark them all in her memory for eternity. They've learned so much of who they wanted to be in here.

She remembers that stormy night, as they were curled up on the couch and Ron had looked at her hesitantly before confessing that he was going to quit the Aurors and go work with George. They were watching a movie, she doesn't recall what it was, it doesn't seem to matter now. Ron had looked at her, eyes wide and yet so determined. She had been so proud of him even though a million questions had crossed her mind. She had struggled to get them out of her head.

You've wanted to be an Auror for as long as I remember?

Yeah, I know. It's not as glamorous as I thought it was going to be when I was eleven.

You love working with Harry.

I'll still see him.

You're good at it.

I can be good at something else.

What prompted this?

I don't know, it's a mix of different things I guess. I hate the paperwork, I don't like being away from you when I'm on missions, I hate that you worry about me, George needs me and I him more than the Aurors do, I'm tired of risking my life, I just want to do something that I like and be with you. I think I'll be happy at the shop and I'm always happy with you.

I love you and I'm proud of you, not matter what you decide to do, you know that right?

And then he had kissed her and they'd spend the night on the couch rediscover their bodies until they'd eventually moved to the bedroom.

Hermione sights as she looks at the empty bedroom, a new pang of nostalgia hits her as she hears street noise through the open window.

Here, today's Daily Prophet delivered directly to your bed Ms Granger.

Pfff please, all you did was feeding the owl, you didn't even had to get up.

I'll have you know tha-

And then a loud bang had come from outside as they heard a couple arguing downstairs through the open window. Ron had gotten up after five minutes of intense bickering to get popcorn (a perfectly healthy breakfast thank you very much). They spent the next hour listening and making hush comments about who was going to win the argument, the Daily Prophet long forgotten at the bottom of the bed.

She had proposed the next day. The owl delivered the Daily Prophet, she had begun to read it, Ron reading over her shoulder when she'd paused, knowing that this is what she wanted her life to be every day. Lazy mornings, read the Prophet together, listen to the downstairs neighbours argue, even the burnt dinners and hurried breakfasts because she hated to be late. Yes, this is what she wanted her life to be. So she'd proposed and he'd said yes, because he wanted this life too.

Hermione holds back a sob, turning away from the bedroom and heading to the kitchen with a heavy heart.

There is a small ink stain on the table that would be really easy to remove with the flick of a wand but neither of them had wanted to. Harry tried to once, and they'd both yelled at him not to.

Ron had been writing a letter to Charlie, keeping him in the loop on how things were at home and with their family when she spoke, startling him, therefore spilling the ink.

I think we should have kids.

Ron?

I heard you.

You spilled some ink.

Oh.

So, kids?

I heard you the first time.

Well, what do you think?

What happened?

What do you mean 'what happened'?

Where is this coming from? Are you pregnant and this is your way of telling me?

No I'm not pregnant, as if I'd announce I was pregnant by starting with 'we should have kids and oh by the way, it's already happening'!

Hermione?

Yes?

Explain.

I- I don't know, I think we're ready. We're both at a good place professionally, we even have enough money put aside to look for a home an-

We have a home. This is a home.

House, I mean a house. I know you're thinking about it too. I've seen how you look at your brothers and Harry with their children.

Yes of course I want kids, are we ready though?

Can you ever be ready?

Good point.

Does this mean that you want to start trying?

Does trying mean more sex? 'Cause I'm all for that.

You're impossible.

Nothing I haven't heard before love. Come on, let's go make a baby.

Little did she know that a few months later, she'd take him to the beach on a rainy november day and tell him she was pregnant.

They put her first sonogram up on the fridge, holding it with a smiling llama magnet Ginny had gotten them after she covered the last Quidditch World Cup in Peru.

She touches the now vacant spot, the sonogram safely tucked away in her bag with the magnet close by.

It's the first thing they put up in their new home that evening.