"Life was a willow and it bent right to your wind
Head on the pillow, I could feel you sneaking in."
...
This was the second night in a row, she couldn't sleep. Midnights, she decided, were positively more tiresome than the mornings.
Ginny turned around again, careful not to roll over on her belly. She huffed, frowning as she felt the cold absence of her husband beside her on the bed.
She was hungry, she realised. Which was odd. It hadn't been even three whole hours since she had eaten.
Ginny wasn't even really hungry, she realised. She just…she was just hungry for brownies. And bananas. Especially bananas. Ginny groaned, then got up, her back cracking as she sat up on the bed.
"Fuck it," she cursed, as she put on her slippers and headed towards the kitchen. She hated it when Harry was off on his night missions, leaving her all alone in the house. Especially now, when she was so satirically lonely. And hungry.
Come to think of it now, Harry really had been going on quite a few night missions lately. This week alone, he had not been home at all during the nights.
Ginny brought out a pan, turned on the oven, then left everything on the counter and gazed at the clock. Four more hours and he'd be back home. Before he'd have to leave again.
She huffed, then set to work. While she didn't know, per say, how to make brownies, Ginny figured….it wouldn't be that hard. Flour, eggs, cocoa, milk, how hard could it really be?
She had never even cracked eggs before though. Something about a glob of slimy things coming out of a cracked shell irked her. She'd seen Harry make eggs before, seen her mum too. Last time she was at Hermione and Ron's, she'd helped Hermione make dinner, and Hermione had made eggs too. Eggs weren't hard.
Obviously.
One and a half hours later, Ginny rethought her statement.
Eggs were hard. So was flour, cocoa, and the weird bitter tasting powder that Ginny had measured up in a small bowl and left aside.
She stepped back, her clothes lathered in egg whites and flour, frustration clouding all rational thoughts in her head.
"When the hell is he going to come back?" she muttered angrily, throwing her apron aside, as she switched off the now hot oven. In a fit of rage, she scooped up some cocoa into her mouth and then grabbed a banana, biting into it to lighten the bitter feeling in her mouth.
"Brownies can go to hell," she muttered, stomping back into the bedroom, flinging the banana peel into the bin.
And as Ginny got back into the bed again, she glanced once again at the clock, noting the time until he'd be back beside her.
It wasn't even something she tried to hide, but she missed him.
Terribly.
…
…
As luck would have it, as would the sun, when Ginny woke up, she was tucked against his side.
Even without opening her eyes, his mere scent comforted her, nearly lulling her back to sleep.
Ginny opened her eyes, looking up to see the sleeping form of her husband.
His hair lay messily on his forehead, his eyes crinkling once in a while as he slept. Ginny smiled, all her frustration towards him the previous night vanished in a trace.
"Staring's considered rude, you know," Harry said softly, and Ginny smiled, lightly brushing her hand through his hair.
"Well, excuse me for staring at my husband," she quipped and Harry opened his eyes, gazing down at her with those bright green eyes.
"Three years and I still can't believe it sometimes," he softly said.
"Believe what?"
"That you call me husband."
Ginny laughed, her laugh echoing through the room, the sunlight trickling in through the gap in the curtains. She placed her hand on her belly as if by instinct, then looked up at Harry, a smile on her face.
"So.." Harry smirked, "you want to tell me what happened in the kitchen last night?"
The smile vanished. Ginny made a face, and then frowned up at him. "I was hungry -"
"I figured."
"- for brownies."
Harry lightly chuckled, then grabbed his glasses from the bedside table, putting them on before turning to face his wife.
"It isn't even just brownies," she went on. "Bananas. I have an inhuman, unexplainable craving for bananas, and old me would just be.. borderline revolted, but I can't stop thinking about banana puddings, and banana chips, and -"
"- bananas in general," Harry finished. "You know there could be a dozen more interpretations of that," he smirked, raising an eyebrow suggestively, laughing as Ginny lightly smacked him on the arm.
"Anyway," Ginny rolled her eyes, "I, yes I, was trying to make banana brownies last night, but as you already saw, that went exactly as I wanted it to."
Harry laughed, bringing Ginny closer to his face, before kissing her gently on the forehead. Then, as if deep in thought, he buried his face in her hair, inhaling deeply.
"You want me to whip up a fresh batch?" he said, his voice muffled by her hair.
"Really?" Ginny grinned, her eyes lighting up almost immediately, "you up for that?"
"Always, madame," Harry smiled, rolling out of bed, and bowing gallantly, smiling at Ginny's laughing figure.
In the morning, she realised, all was well.
…
It clearly wasn't, she thought, as Ginny waddled over to the kitchen.
Harry hadn't left for work. Which was odd. He hadn't even jumped at the chance of getting in some more sleep, which was even odder. Yes, it was very Harry-like to get up in the morning and get to making brownies at Ginny's request, but after a long night of work, she'd thought he'd at least get in a few extra hours in the morning.
In fact, she'd be the one to tell him to stay in bed, because even under the smiling face, and bright green eyes, Ginny knew that he was, to an extent, exhausted.
Except, he wasn't now. Heck, he was even whistling some distinct tune she could swear she'd heard somewhere before.
Unlike her frenzied self last night, Harry held a natural control of the kitchen, whipping batter into bowls, mixing in the eggs, and also, weirdly using the bitter powder she'd left aside last night.
He stopped momentarily, looking up as Ginny entered the kitchen.
"You want them to be extra chocolatey, or just bananas and plain chocolate?" he asked.
"Umm.. just bananas and chocolate please," Ginny said as she carefully sat herself beside the counter. She observed Harry manoeuvring swiftly around the kitchen, a little envious about the ease with which he was doing things she was struggling with last night, before she cleared her throat.
"You don't have to go to work?" she asked hesitantly.
"I was wondering when you were going to ask that." Harry turned around, a wide smile on his face.
Ginny wondered what was going to come next.
"Well," Harry kept aside the bowl, wiping his hands on his shirt, "I'm taking a break."
"What?" Ginny frowned.
"Not a break, saying, I'll not go to work, not like that," he said. "A break meaning, there will be no more night missions, no staying at work too late; I hope, even more days off. At least, until the baby comes."
Ginny stared at him in disbelief. "Are you serious?" she said, voice full of hesitation. "I mean, it's just been four months and -"
"I know, Gin. But, you might think I haven't noticed, but I know I'm gone more than I should be."
And it was true, he was. And she worried about him. Especially nowadays, as he left for his missions, it was as if she held in her breath before he returned again. So, she simply nodded at him, as Harry tucked in a stray lock of hair behind her ear.
"I mean, you're pregnant," he smiled. "In a few months, we're going to be parents, and I have absolutely no idea how we'll do that, but we'll do that together too."
He put his arms around her chair, pressing his lips on her forehead. "I know I've not been home much the last few months, but I will now. I promise."
"I'm glad," Ginny said, resting her forehead against Harry's chest. "I really have been missing you tremendously the past few weeks."
"I'll make you banana brownies to cover up for it," he whispered back.
"You better."
Harry chuckled, bending down to kiss her. Then, he lightly placed his hand on her belly, looking up at her as she placed her hand over his.
Ginny gazed into his eyes, the warmth in them comforting her, in the same way she had always been comforted when she looked at him.
"I've been thinking of names," she said.
"That's dangerous," Harry quipped, "the last time you named something, you named it after a pig."
"I did not," Ginny said indignantly.
And it was the little tell-tale signs that made her realise as they argued that everything was really going to be okay, even if she developed an unflinching love for brownies, even if they named their first child after something horrendous, everything was really going to be alright.
...