Hope you enjoy! And ignore the bottom of this story where I comment and stuff, it's childish and inappropiate. Seriously, I'll lose a lot of readers if I do.

Chapter 2: Who's At the Door?

I awoke to thick drops of rain beating against the window and a loud meow! I propped my head up and looked around for Ron to make sure it all wasn't a dream. I saw him snoring under me and I sighed a breath of relief. I sat up and forced myself out of bed. I got up and went to the front door where I kept hearing the meows. Tiny taps kept beating against the door. I opened the door to see what was wrong with this cat. Sitting on my doorstep was a cute, but dirty, bengal cat. And under where she was standing was a tiny puddle of thick blood underneath her. It didn't take me long to register that this cat was going into labor.

I lifted her up a bit and placed her on the inside of my house. My mind was racing a bit. I tried to remember all the books I'd read on cats and what to do if they were having kittens. When I'd seen my Grandmother help her cat Martha give birth the first thing she'd gotten was a bucket and placed her in so that there wouldn't be kittens all over the place.

I raced to the kitchen and delved through all the cabinets until I finally spotted a bucket. Though it wasn't big enough to hold a cat and her litter.

I pointed my wand at the bucket and muttered, "Engorgio."

The bucket doubled in sized. I raced back to the entryway and- thump! I'd bumped right into a barely conscience Ron.

"Wha's going on", he asked sleepily.

"She's going into labor", I replied frantically.

"Ginny?", his eyes widened.

"No, the cat", I replied.

"What? When did you get another cat", he asked.

"I didn't get another cat, but there's one in the foyer who's about to give birth, now could you please move!", I yelled. He stepped aside, still looking confused. I ran over to the cat. She's already had one kitten. It was tiny and grey and quiet as a mouse, no pun intended. I reach over to lift her into the bucket, but she thinks I'm reaching for her kitten and hisses at me.

"Shh! It's okay", I whisper to her as I pet her fur as gently as possible. She seems to calm down a little bit and isn't as aggressive when I pick her up carefully and put her in the blue bucket and put her first kitten in there with her. I kept petting her and encouraging and comforting her, all the while Ron is looking at the three of us as if we've all lost it.

"Where did the cat come from", Ron asked.

"I don't know, I've never seen her before. I mean I knew there were strays around here but. . . .What should we name her? I mean I feel kind of bad referring to her as ' the cat'."

"Oh, no. No, Hermione. We can't. We can't and we won't. We aren't taking in some cat and her kittens. I mean look at her, she looks like she's got something", he whined.

He was right. The top half of her left ear looked like it'd been chewed and the remains looked like it'd been crumpled, and her left leg was clearly broken, and her nails were far past overgrown. Her fur was sticking up and damp from the rain and she looked exhausted. It was clear that she was knocking on death's door.

"Well she is sick. Dying in fact. But maybe we can help her. And her kittens are going to need a home. We can't just leave her to die on the streets, and we certainly aren't going to leave defenseless little kittens out there to die."

Ron stayed quiet for a moment. He looked from the grey kitten to the bengal to me. After a while he even began to look a bit sympathetic.

"Fine. We'll keep them until we're sure all of them are okay. But the minute we're positive that they're healthy we have to give them away." I wanted to run up to him and hug him and jump up and down in excitement girlishly, but one that would go against everything I stand for and two the cat had given birth to her next kitten. This kittens fur was exactly like his/her moms.

"Can you go to the pet store and pick up some kitten milk, cat food, kitten bottles, and. . .Oh! A bed for them to sleep in", I asked him.

"What? It's bloody three o'clock in the morning! What pet store is opened at this time of night? Besides why can't you go and get it?"

"Well than go to the 24-Hour corner store and pick up some goat's milk, cat food, and they should have a bed too. And you might want to pick up a litter box", I replied, "Besides she's already put a little of her trust in me, I can't leave her now. And even if I did you and I both know you can't help a cat give birth to her kittens."

"Fine", he groaned grumpily.

Four hours later, Lilith (I'd named the new mother Lilith after Harry's mom because she'd made sure she'd brought her kids to safety before she died, but I added the -ith because it seemed a little insensitive to Harry to name his mother after a dying cat) had five kittens. I'd called a 24-hour vetenary hot line and my parents for information about the cats. The vet informed me that Lilith had given birth to two boys and three girls, that it was common for cats to remain quiet, and to keep an eye on them for as long as possible. After Lilith had given birth to her litter and licked them clean, then she just hid under the bathroom sink. We haven't heard from her since.

After I'd fed the kittens a little (the vet told me not to feed them a lot since they're underweight) I'd placed them in front of the couch where Ron and I were now sitting. Tired and amused by how the kittens would nudge each other on accident.

"You know one of these days I'm going to get a dog or something. Cats are so. . . .serious", Ron said. I scoffed.

"What are you talking about? They're playful, adorable, and kind. Not to say that dogs aren't, it's just less work with a cat. You don't have to walk cats and cats have a litter box. Much easier", I muttered.

"Yeah but dogs. . . dogs are great. Friendly but protective when they have to be. Now when have you heard of a cat being protective? And even if you had, whose actually going to be threatened by a cat?", Ron asked.

"You know what, both cats and dogs have good and bad qualities. And we'll just leave it at that", I said, way too exhausted to debate.

We both sat there quietly watching the kittens. The fire place was lit, giving the room a cozy feel to it. One of Ron's arms was propping his head up to watch the kittens with me, the other was holding me comfortably as we watched the kittens. We had a thick wool blanket draped over us, but that and the fire from the fireplace was nothing compared to the cozy warmth of Ron's body.

Ugh! When'd I become so girlish? Although I do have the right to be girlish so that I can make up the six months I had to go without him.

You'd understand if you were in my position. You know that rich feeling you get when you're drinking deluxe hot chocolate with fluffy marshmallows and whip cream on top, and how it slides down your throat? Now imagine doing that on a cold, rainy day as you watch the clouds, and the fire in your fireplace is flickering flames, and you have a good old-fashioned home-made smore on an elegantly decorated dish. That's how I feel right now. Like I'm lying next to that. A living, breathing, human example of what comfort truly means.

"I can't understand why that kitten keeps yawing, I mean clearly it's asleep so it should be getting it's rest. I reckon something's wrong with it. Look how tiny it is."

"Ron their all tiny, which one are you talking about?", I asked.

"The smallest one. With the fur like it's mom. The one who keeps yawning", Ron said. He pointed to the one who was lying on the end of the bed looking kind of isolated, which almost seemed impossible considering the bed wasn't very big but then again the kittens are extremely small. But the one Ron was talking about was a lot smaller than the rest. And it did in fact keep yawning although it's eyes were shut. It almost looked like one of those little teddy bears' you see men give to their girlfriends and wives.

"I dunno. It shouldn't be sleepy", I replied.

"The grey one looks like a Theodore, don't you think", Ron asked. At first I was a little puzzled, there were two grey one's but I already knew he was talking about the oldest of Lilith's litter.

"Yeah, he kind of does. He looks very distinguished for a newborn kitten. Very smart and dignified", I said amused.

"And the one beside it kind of looks like a Rueben", Ron said. I fought the urge to laugh and I can't tell you whether or not I wanted to laugh because he thought the kitten beside Theodore was a boy even though it was a girl (which seems childish) or the fact he was really getting into caring for and naming these kittens. Not that he'd ever admit it.

"That's a girl", I replied.

"Well what's the girl version of Rueben? Rueben-a? Ruebenetta?", Ron asked. This time I couldn't hold back a laugh.

"No, it'd be Ruby or Rubia or something along those lines", I replied.

"Oh. Well then she'll be Ruby", Ron said.

"I thought you were dead-set on not keeping them", I said in an accusatory tone.

"We aren't going to keep them. But we've got to call them something, they aren't animals", Ron replied a little annoyed. I smiled, waiting for him to actually think about what he just said. "Oh, shut-up you know what I mean."

I laughed. I can't decide what's cuter him or the kittens.

"Well let me name one. We should name the one on top of Theo, short for Theodore, Minnie", I said.

"Why?"

"Because Minnie rhymes with Ginny and Minnie's as feisty and tough as Ginny. When I was taking her brothers and her out of the bucket, away from her mom, she kept trying to meow at me and I had a hard time trying to take her out of the bucket with Lily."

"What about the last girl?", Ron asked.

"Hmm, I dunno. She looks almost exactly like Theo. Maybe she should be. . . I don't know Cleo? Short for Cleodore", I suggested.

"Cleodora. Perfect", Ron replied, "So what about the last one? Now I'm thinking Yawny, because that's all he seems to know how to do."

"I think we should name him Tiglet. You know, because he looks like a mini tiger", I said.

"Yeah, he kind of does", Ron replied after a long pause.

I stared at Tiglet. He'd finally stopped yawning and was beginning to squirm a little on his bed. He looked so innocent and fragile. He was innocent and fragile. Secretly I tried to be impartial towards all of the kittens, but my favorite one is Tiglet. I don't know if it's because he's just so adorable and tiny but I just instantly fell in love with him. And I know, deep down, that I'm not giving Tiglet away. Not to be disrespectful towards Ron but I just can't let him go. Even though I've only been with him for less than six hours, I felt like I've had him for a really long time.

"We're really good at naming things", Ron said quietly, breaking my train of thought.

"Huh? Oh, yes I suppose", I replied.

"When we. . . . . .have our own little 'kittens', what would you want", Ron asked.

"What do you mean", I asked him.

"As in what would you name them? What would you want them to be like? You know, do you want a girl. . . a boy", Ron muttered. It was clear that he was a little nervous about asking me this. Every since I had the pregnancy scare, me getting pregnant seemed to frighten him and excite him at the same time.

"Well I'd really like to have a girl and a boy. And I'd want them to have your eyes. And your braveness. And I certainly hope they get the texture of your hair, and I think it would be cute to have a little redhead bookworm. And maybe even your stubbornness, I'd get a kick out of that. Regardless I'd love them", I replied. He stayed quiet for a long time. But I could tell he was grinning, and so was I. I could just imagine it, little smart gingers running around the house and Tiglet minding his own business walking around the house.

"Well I'd love to have a daughter with your eyes, your nose, your mouth. . . your face. Because it's so beautiful. And I'd love for my kids to have your curly hair. And I'd get a kick out of my daughter reading a book every time you see her. But whatever they do, they'd better get into Gryffindor", Ron said seriously. I laughed and found his hand and held it.

"I love you so much, Ron", I told him.

"I love you too", he replied.

"You know Ron, you've been so sweet. I woke you up and made you leave and come back to help me help a dying cat give labor. So I think now's the perfect time that we kiss, not to be blunt. The only problem is the position we're in right now. Not to mention we're in a room full of innocent kittens. We might want to go to the bedroom. I'm sure they'll be fine."

He tossed back the blanket and we got off the couch and went into our bedroom.

He sat on the end of the bed and sat beside him. We looked down at the floor and then at each other and grinned like maniacs. This is the first time in six weeks that we've actually been seriously intimate. All of a sudden we're both nervous. Who makes the first move? Should we go all the way right now?

I don't know why but my gut told me to make the first move and figure things out as we go. And apparently his 'gut' did too because we both pressed our lips on each others at the same time. Our noses and foreheads collided. We moved back and held our foreheads and hissed. Then we looked at each other again and laughed.

"Retry?", I suggested.

"Of course", he replied. I relaxed my shoulders and cleared my head.

I'd held my hands together and placed them between my knees and did a mini-stretch. He turned around and placed his hands on both sides of the bed where I was sitting and pressed his lips to mine. I unclasped my hands and placed it against the side of his face. His mouth was as warm as the feel of his body on mine when we were in the living room. His tongue lightly glided across my bottom row of teeth and mines were on his top row, slowly and lightly touching the root of the inside of his mouth. He moaned into my mouth, sending shivers down my spine. I wrapped my arms around his neck and lied down on the bed and pulled him with me, making sure to not break the kiss. His hands were running through my hair, he was sucking on my tongue and his knee was between my thighs. I moaned into his mouth this time and he'd held my hand and broke the kiss and trailed them down my jaw and up my cheek and on my temple. I had no idea that was a sensitive spot for me so that plus the fact it was Ron that had done it intensified the heat between my legs. I held his face and kissed him again. This time I broke it. We looked at each other and smiled. I pushed his chest away from mine, gesturing for him to sit up. And he sat up and I sat up too. I kissed him again and trailed more along his jaw until I'd finally reached his neck. I kissed his neck and let it linger for a moment. Then I backed away and pulled his shirt up and he helped me take it off of him. My lips moved back to their original spot on his neck and then I trailed more until I'd reached his left shoulder blade and left a mark. His hands had found their way to the small of my back.

He moved his hands up my shirt and up to my bra strap. I let him unhook it and then backed away. I got up off the bed and took off my pajamas and slid the bra off completely.

"I'm going to need you to lie down", I demanded him calmly. He lied down as I'd told him to.

I crawled back onto the bed and got on top of him. I pressed my lips against his again and rubbed my hands up against his smooth chest. I liked that he didn't grow hair on his chest. I read somewhere that women liked it when men had hairy chests'. And maybe it's because I'm weird but I've never found it appealing. I tilted my head and deepened the kiss just before breaking it for air.

It was time for us to stop, unfortunately. No matter how bad he wanted it, and Merlin knows I was desperate for it, we were both far too tired for all that work. Besides the sound of a kitten meowing had broken our trance. I got up and put my bra and pajama top back on, not really caring about the pants (Ron and the sheets was enough to keep me warm). Ron had went into the living room to go and care for the kitten, surprisingly. By the time he'd come back I was already in bed. He got in with me, not bothering to put his shirt back on (lucky for me).

"Tiglet fell off the bed", Ron said.

"Ron? I know you said we've got to give them all away, but- can I just. . .", I couldn't finish. If he said no I know I'd get a little upset with him and fall asleep angry. And I didn't want to argue right now.

"Let me guess, you want to keep one of them", Ron asked sarcastically. I bit my bottom lip and nodded.

He was quiet for a really long time so it surprised me when he said, "Yeah, fine. Which one, because you already know we can't keep up with all five kittens."

"Tiglet", I said immediately. He acted surprised and gasped.

"Surprise, surprise."

I smiled at him and kissed him.

"I love you."

"I love you, too", he replied and kissed me on my temple, which I'm sure is because he knew it was my newfound weakness and was just teasing me.

I have worked my absolute hardest to make this chapter as flawless as possible so I'd really appreciate it if you'd show me you appreciate it through favoriting, reviewing, and all that good stuff. Hope you enjoyed it and I'm hoping to update a little more frequently.

And just so you know, I've been working on this since 12: 21 P.M to now (1:25 A.M). I've had to re-type this story four times, I've been editing, and doing research on cats and kittens because I honestly have had no cats ever in my life nor have I ever been affiliated with one (and I damn sure haven't assisted one in while she went into labor) so I won't be surprised if one of you point out that something doesn't make any sense. So I mean this with all my heart and soul: writing this chapter has beat the crap out of me. Because my computers a bitch. So also mean this with all my heart and soul and everything that makes me, me: Review, Favorite, and Story Alert Your Ass Off because I've worked too damn hard to not get anything. And don't take this offensively. Take this to your soul. Seriously. Think to yourself, now this writer could've been watching Red Tails or the Devil Inside, going ice skating, going to fudging Red Lobster, and getting drunk and end up crying in a fetal position at a daycare like this writer usually does (not that I actually do that. . .nor did you need to know if I ever have or ever will). But no! This writer worked all fucking day just to give you a story because she loves R/Hr just as much as you do. So go on, review and favorite your little hearts out. Please.

Sincerely,

Jay

P.S: Thanks for at least taking your time to read this because you also could've gone to the movies, or ice skating, or crying in a fetal position at a daycare, but instead you read my story. Thanks person!

P.S Love you guys!