For Longer Than Forever: Ch. 16: Meadows and Butterflies and Little Girls

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter® or any of the entities involved.

A/N: Sorry for the lack of update. This chapter has been a long time coming, and I am glad to say that the last two should come within the next month or so. Thanks to those who have hung around waiting for so long, here is the next chapter.

"No. It's too fun," Ginny said, snickering.

"Is it possible to miss someone when they're right behind you?" Hermione asked, turning to look at the door to her room.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "You'll see him soon enough." Hermione stuck her tongue out at Ginny, tossed her hair and walked off in the opposite direction.

"The exit's over here, genius."

"Damn. My exit's ruined."

Ginny raised her eyebrows. "Damn? My brother must be finally rubbing off on you. Have you at last lost inhibition?"

"Let's just eat." Hermione walked off towards the Great Hall, already planning her possible escapes to meet Ron.

"Now, now, Miss Granger, don't change the subject! What would make you use that sort of language?"

Ginny's words then registered in her mind. Miss Granger… She wouldn't be Miss Granger for much longer. Mrs. Weasley. Hermione Weasley. It wasn't as if she hadn't thought about it. She had often fantasized about being Ron's wife. But now she felt the reality looming and her stomach gave a sickening lurch. Hermione Weasley.

Ginny waved a hand in front of Hermione's face. "Hello? Are you in there?"

Hermione shook her head, breaking out of the thoughts. "What?"

"I just asked you if you wanted to eat here or in Hogsmeade."

That caught Hermione's attention. "Hogsmeade? We're not allowed to go on random Saturdays!"

Ginny shook her head in disgust. "Can't even break rules on the day before her wedding. I got special permission from McGonagall."

"Surely, she doesn't believe in all this superstitious nonsense."

"That's what I thought, too. Harry and I had been wondering all week how we were going to keep you two apart. So I was thinking about it during Transfiguration one day, and after class, McGonagall pulled me aside and asked me if anything was wrong. So I figured what have I got to lose? When I told her, her face went pale and she told me to take as much time as I needed and go to Hogsmeade with you." Ginny finished the tale with a still shocked disposition.

"You're kidding." Hermione refused to believe that her role model would believe in such nonsense.

"No. I thought it was weird too, so I did some research. Apparently, her brother saw his bride before his wedding and by some freak Muggle accident, she died two weeks later."

At that moment, Professor McGonagall walked up behind them, saying, "What are you girls still doing here? Go, go!" She sounded extremely unlike herself, worried and unsure. Hermione and Ginny were then ushered out onto the path to Hogsmeade.

"Well," said Ginny. "I guess that answers that question."

"I suppose so. What serves breakfast here?"

"Truthfully? I haven't the foggiest."

Hermione looked around at the long strips of shops on either side of them. "What about the Three Broomsticks?"

"Don't know. We could find out."

They were informed by a rather irritable barman that they did not.

"Great. We have nothing to eat. Good planning, Gin."

Ginny glared at her blatant sarcasm. "I have an idea," she said, walking over to the post office. She sent a letter to Harry asking for a food parcel and Hermione attached her own letter telling Ron she missed him. (At which, Ginny – for the thousandth time – rolled her eyes.)

After a few minutes, the owl returned with a huge package of food. They sat in the Three Broomsticks, watching the people bustle around the square, shopping for Christmas. While Hermione watched, snow began to fall gently, fluttering as icy butterflies in the cold air.

She closed her eyes and the winter faded to summer and true butterflies in a meadow.

She was laying on Ron's arm in the depths of the grass, watching the gathering of beautiful insects in wonder.

"That butterfly," he said, pointing to a singular blue one. "That's you." She blushed slightly and he continued, pointing to a bright orange one. "That's me." And as if by magic, the two came together and did a secret dance of mystique that humans couldn't understand.

Then he pointed to another, a yellow nearby. "That's ours. Our girl."

Hermione kissed him softly. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

And loving kisses and caresses mounted into a passion she had never experienced.

Summer then faded back to winter. Hermione was still standing in the meadow, snow resting upon her great stomach, her hands sharing a resting place with it. Familiar hands then rested on hers, and Ron's warm lips kissed her neck softly.

"You looked so beautiful out here in the snow. I thought I'd join you."

Hermione smiled at him softly. "I'm glad you find my bulk so lovely."

He laughed and turned her around. "To me, you're always lovely, especially carrying my child." He began to sway slowly with his arms around her and they danced with the snow around them.

Winter fades to spring. A toddler with the newfound ability to run frolics around the meadow. Her bright red, bushy hair immediately claims her to the parents watching nearby. "She's ours. The sunny butterfly in the meadow."

Hermione smiled, remembering the conversation that had led to this little girl who couldn't cement their love more.

"Hello!" Ginny said. "Are you in there?"

Winter in the pub reappeared with great force.

"Yeah, sorry."

"You are more like Ron every day," Ginny said, shaking her head. "So? What were you thinking about?"

Hermione grinned. "Meadows and butterflies and little girls."

Ginny smiled. "Oh. I won't ask."

They left the warmth into the delightful cold. With the snow and a dream, she knew she could survive the day. A day without Ron, while once unimaginable, was now conceivable. Her day with Ginny would be fine.