For Amanda
Word Count: 572
Hannah steps outside, steaming cup of coffee in hand. The spring air is crisp and still as a bit of a chill in it. She shivers, adjusting her cardigan and making her way to the plot of land that will serve as a garden. Her husband is there, hard at work.
"I figured you would sleep until noon," Neville says, looking up at her. He wipes the sweat from his brow and leaves behind a brown-black streak of soil. "You got in late last night."
Hannah groans at the reminder. Viv, her newest worker, had failed to appear without any notice, and Hannah had covered half of her shift before she had shown up. She hadn't made it home until after two in the morning.
On a normal day, she would have slept in. Today, however, there is something else on her mind, and caffeine will have to make up for her lack of sleep.
"What the hell is that?" Neville asks, lifting what looks like a rock. He squeezes it gently, and it crumbles. "Just dirt."
"Rita Skeeter wrote another article," Hannah says, though rumor is probably a better word for it. She doesn't know how that woman is allowed to continue her career as a journalist. Most of what she says is a lie, and no one even pays attention to her. "I am allegedly an alcoholic, and you might be having an affair with Astoria Malfoy."
He snorts. "Funny. Wasn't I shagging Ginny last week?"
"No, that was last month." Hannah grins. It has almost become a game for so many of them, a contest to see who has the juiciest rumor made up about them. Harry always wins, though Ron and Hermione are often a close second.
She takes a deep breath. Most days, she wouldn't bother coming out to talk to him about silly rumors; those were usually saved for when they sit down and talk about their day. Today, however, it's necessary.
Hannah swallows dryly. Her hands tremble so much that her coffee splashes around within the cup.
It isn't a big deal. Neville will be happy.
So why is she so nervous about this? Why does her stomach feel like it has twisted itself into a painful knot that can't be undone?
"Hannah?" Neville jumps to his feet, nearly falling but quickly catching his balance. He's by her side in an instant. "Hey. What's wrong?"
She laughs softly. "Wrong? Nothing. I just… I'm thinking about how it's good that those rumors aren't true. Excessive drinking would harm the baby."
"The baby? What baby?" But as soon as he asks, it seems to click. Neville's eyes widen, and his gaze rests on her stomach. "We're having a baby."
"We are," she confirms, all the tension leaving her body when she sees him grin.
He goes to hug her but hesitates. "I don't want to spill your coffee."
With a chuckle, she sets the cup down and opens her arms. Neville hugs her, peppering her face with kisses. "We're having a baby," he says again, his tone halfway between joy and disbelief. "Come on. This calls for a giant plate of celebratory chips."
"Preferably without ketchup."
Neville laughs, wrapping an arm around her. "Ketchup is the king of all condiments."
She rolls her eyes, but she can't fight the smile that tugs at her lips. It's such a perfect day for a new chapter in their lives.
