Autumn Leaves
November 2007
The toddlers are getting rowdy, so Hermione sets down her plate and wanders into the kitchen, leaving the two Weasleys in charge of the children. It's Guy Fawkes Night, one of the Muggle traditions which Harry and Hermione have managed to introduce to their families. They- Hermione, Ron, Rose, Ginny, Harry, James, Albus and Teddy, are at Harry and Ginny's house for a bonfire. The kids helped to build it earlier, although that mostly descended into stick-fights and jumping in leaves. George has given them a box of Wildfire Whizzbangs and Harry's up in the attic hunting for sparklers.
Hermione leans on the kitchen counter and looks out into the garden. It's bigger than the one her own house. Hermione wanted to stay in London, while Harry and Ginny prefer the countryside. Rose, Hermione thinks irritably, likes the countryside too.
There's a noise from behind her and Hermione turns, wand raised- it never leaves you- but it's only Ron. He's looking sheepish and holding out Hemione's half-full plate.
"You left your pizza," he explains, "I didn't know if you wanted to finish it,"
"You have it," Hermione says disinterestedly. Ron looks momentarily puzzled, then sets the plate down on the counter.
"Can I stay?" he asks tentatively. Hermione glances at him and nods, and he moves to lean beside her, though far enough away so that they don't touch. They've been fighting a lot lately. Not their usual friendly bickering but proper arguments. There's so much to deal with for a two-year-old: bottles, nappies, toys, bibs, plasters. Rose is in a throwing phase so her food usually ends up on the floor. Hermione snaps at her, and Ron tells her not to talk to their daughter like that.
"Well sorry we can't all be Molly Weasley, Ron. Sorry I actually find being a mother really hard," she'd spat at him the other day.
"Yeah, must be tough looking after her all day- oh no, you're at work so it's me who feeds her and changes her and takes her to the park," he snarled.
"Wow, Order of Merlin for you,"
"I'm just saying, it's-"
"For once, would it kill you to support me?"
"Merlin's sake, not this again. What's staying home to look after our daughter if it isn't supporting you and your career?" Ron had huffed.
"I'm good at my career! I know what I'm doing at the Ministry, but I don't have a clue how to be a parent. It's supposed to get easier once they get older but it's getting more exhausting," she groaned. Ron opened his mouth and Hermione snapped, "And don't tell me that I'm just jealous because you're better at this than I am,"
"I wasn't going to say anything like that". He sounded hurt and Hermione winced at herself. Next-door in the living room, they'd heard Rose start to cry.
"I'll get her," Ron muttered.
"No, I'll-"
"Hermione. I'll get her,"
They fight over if Rose is ill, if she's growing out of her shoes, if they should let her get away with not wearing her coat outside. It was been her birthday last month and they'd argued about what present to get her. On her birthday itself, once they were home from her party at the Burrow and Rose was in bed, Ron had suggested that now she was two they might start considering having another baby. Naturally, that had turned into an argument. Of course Ron wanted more children, Hermione had thought bitterly, he was a Weasley; siblings were like walls or clouds to him, a natural fixture in life. Hermione was, like Rose, an only girl, and there was something oddly comforting about that. In the moments when she looked at her daughter and thought that she would never understand her, at least they had this one shared experience. And parenting was so exhausting and repetitive, and had made them so fractious with each other, that now was a terrible time to discuss having more children. Hermione told Ron that she refused to try for another baby until Rose was older. Ron had backpedalled and promised, "Okay, I get it, your choice," but he'd looked worried, like reaching thirty with only one child to show for it was a failure. It doesn't help that Harry and Ginny are already expecting baby number three.
Hemione thinks of that now, watching through the kitchen door as Rose plays with her cousins. At three and a half, James is a chunky, jolly boy, and he's jumping on the sofa beside Rose (Hermione's noticed, with a glint of pride which seems too nasty to say out loud, that Rose's vocabulary is nearly as good as James' already). Albus, who don't be two until June, tries to climb up to join them but he can't reach. He's smaller and slighter than James; more stroppy and sensitive. Before Al can get cross about being left out, Teddy, whose been half-playing with the toddlers and half-talking to Ginny, scoops him up and plonks him onto his knee. Teddy loves Ginny, always has. He loves babies too, and he always wants to touch Ginny's stomach to feel her baby kick. Hermione remembers him doing the same with her when she was pregnant with Rose. Teddy whispers something to Albus and lifts the baby onto his feet so he's standing on Teddy's bony kneecaps.
"He'd have been a good big brother," says Ron. Hermione jumps- she'd forgotten he was there.
Her eyes flick sideways to where Ron's looking through the doorway too. Hermione suspects he's getting at the having-more-children conversation again, so she mumbles, "Yes,"
"It's not fair they're not here, is it?" Ron asks quietly.
"No," Hermione agrees, "It's not fair we have this and they didn't". She considers that a lot. The distance of time illuminates the randomness and unfairness of everything that happened.
"What d'you think they'd be doing if they were here?" Ron asks.
"Tonks would probably still be an Auror," says Hermione, "She could have been your boss,"
He'd only stayed at the Ministry for a couple of years. Harry, they all knew, didn't know how to do anything but fight, but Ron had his family. He had George. After two years, Ron had packed in at the Auror department and gone to help his brother run the joke shop. He'd been good at that and had enjoyed it more than being an Auror. When Rose was a baby he'd strapped her to his chest when at the shop, leaving everybody amused and Hermione impressed. Now Rose is more mobile and destructive, Ron's working from home, managing orders and stock from the kitchen. Sometimes he says he misses the shop floor, but for the most part he's happy and settled and enjoys being a work-from-home dad.
"Lupin would have been chuffed about everything you've done for werewolf rights," Ron ejaculates. Hermione looks at him sharply.
"He would," Ron repeats.
"That's why I do it," she tells him.
"I know,"
"I think about him all the time," Hermione says softly, "How lonely he must have been for so long,"
"Yeah. And then he meets this Auror with pink hair and they get married and have a kid and then they aren't even here to enjoy it". He sounds more irritated than angry, using the sulky tone he often spoke in when they were teenagers. In the living room, Teddy sets Albus back on the floor and turns to Ginny again. He can be shy sometimes, but get him going and he asks loads of questions and he likes telling stories, especially if it's Ginny listening or answering his questions. Hermione looks forward to when Rose is that age, but nine and a half is a long way from two.
"D'you reckon they would have been happy? They wouldn't have split up or something," says Ron.
"What makes you say that?"
"Well, it was a shotwand wedding and you know what Mum says about that. He was about twenty years older, he was a professor. She was always making her nose look like a pig's,"
"Perhaps that's what they liked about each other," Hermione suggests.
"Yeah, maybe. Dunno, though,"
"Ron, what's your point?"
"That it's sad that they never going to be anything more than married for a year with a tiny baby. Would they have liked being parents? Would they have had more kids? Would they have gone through something like we are now?"
It's reassuring to hear him word it like that; just something they're going through, just a phase. Hermione throws him a small smile. "Maybe. What do you reckon?"
"Don't know. Lupin always seemed calm, didn't he, but he obviously wasn't when it came to her and Teddy. One minute he's ditching her when she's pregnant, next she's had the baby and he's the happiest we ever saw him,"
"It wasn't the next minute, it was months later," Hermione corrects.
"Point still stands. The whole thing was a coller-roaster for him. What are you smirking at?"
"It's called a roller-coaster,"
"Yeah, that," he corroborates unashamedly.
His daft mistakes make her laugh. She's always envied the way Ron talks with such casualness. He's not embarrassed by mistakes or mispronunciations. Ron Weasley exists with an ease that Hermione has never had.
"We can take Rose on one to when she's older. Take them all to the funfair," Ron suggests.
Hermione tries to arrange her face into an expression which suggests that a day at a funfair with a bunch of small children doesn't sound excruciating. Thankfully, she's spared from having to answer by the arrival or Harry, bounding down the stairs clamping a box of sparklers under his arm.
"Found them," he grins, "What are you two doing in here?"
Ron and Hermione glance at each other.
"Never mind," Harry says hastily, walking past them through the kitchen door, "James, guess what Daddy's got for later?"
The three-year-old springs off the sofa and onto the floor to investigate. "What this, Daddy?"
Hary puts the box onto the carpet and opens it up to show James.
"Cool, sparklers," chirps Teddy, "Ron, Hermione, come see!"
Hermione looks at Ron again. He shrugs and half-smiles. Would they have gone through something like we are now? She doesn't know. But she does know that she and Ron have got through worse, and they'll get through this. Hermione half-smiles back at him, and they together they walk back into the living-room.
