I don't own anything Harry Potter, I'm not J.K. Rowling.
Thank you ikki0077, Miesterburger, and Iloveyou-PS for reviewing, I always appreciate feedback!
Again, the fic is still posted at rhrlove . com with the accompanying illustrations.
... Chapter 2 ...
Ron took his wife's arm as they walked up the drive to the Potters' modest home. Her elbow cupped in his hand was enough to send tiny shockwaves across his skin. How was it possible for a person to be so soft? Her elbow, of all places!
The light on the front porch was on, adding a warm glow to the dusk. It seemed there was always a warm glow around the Potters' place. The wankers never could have a proper row. Ron would have been happier walking in on Harry ducking a frying pan or something. Alas, their best friend emerged from his front door, waving and smiling like a bloody lunatic. He absolutely glowed with joy, far outshining the porch light.
Wanker.
Ron pasted a smile on his face as he led Hermione up the stairs with one hand spread across her back. She was more subdued than usual tonight. Sometimes when he did that she would turn around to snap at him that she was quite capable of walking on her own, thankyouverymuch, or other such rubbish. Tonight, she glided up the stairs and entered the house with a small smile at Harry, immediately breaking away to visit with Ginny in the kitchen.
Ron stared after her, more than a bit puzzled. At some point during their row that afternoon, she had simply ... deflated, all of the fight just rushing out of her like so much air. She had quietly agreed to dinner with Harry and gone back to work, leaving him stranded in her office until she directed him to the emergency Floo exit.
A quiet, subdued Hermione was nothing short of terrifying, frankly. There had to be something there, boiling just beneath the surface. With his luck whatever it was would explode in his face when he tried to make a move tonight. He'd been planning something all afternoon. It was a little bit pathetic, really. A married man reduced to scheming to get into his wife's knickers.
"Ron? Ron? Y'there, mate?"
Ron jerked his head toward Harry to find him standing off to the side, arms crossed and the most irritating smirk plastered on his face. This was going to be a long evening. Nothing made him more acutely aware of the problems in his own marriage than being faced with the glittering, bouncy joy of dinner with the Potters.
"Fancy a butterbeer?"
Harry was already headed toward the kitchen, the ridiculous spring in his step already grating on Ron's nerves. Ron followed with a distinct lack of spring, his footsteps heavy on the wooden floor.
Ginny and Hermione stood chatting over an impressive array of bowls and platters, waving their wands in lazy patterns that sent spoons stirring and scooping all over the kitchen. Ron ducked a ceramic bowl, which just narrowly missed the top of his head, catching a saucy wink from Ginny as he straightened back up. Married or not, she was still an absolute brat of a witch.
Harry nudged him on the arm, handing him a freshly opened butterbeer and jerking his head toward the living room. Ron followed with haste, once again narrowly avoiding a serving platter that, given the complex acrobatic turn it performed just as it whizzed past his shoulder, was probably sent by Hermione.
Harry sat on the very edge of an armchair, absolutely vibrating with energy. Ron felt tired just looking at him. He collapsed onto the couch next to Harry's chair, stretching out one foot to thunk onto the coffee table, a position he was only able to achieve while the wives were out of the room. Harry didn't give a kneazles' arse if Ron put his feet on the furniture.
He took a swig of his drink, savoring the sweet bubbles that tickled the roof of his mouth. He felt his spine relax slightly, some of the tension from the mountain of worry he carried in his gut melting away into the couch.
"Seriously, mate, what's on your mind? You look so low I feel like I should dig you out of the ground and fling you like a gnome."
Ron gave an obligatory smile at Harry's words, taking another swig.
"Nothing much, really. S'just been a bit of a long month."
Harry nodded, throwing his head back and finishing up his drink. Ron looked at his own, still more than half full. Harry was really tossing them back tonight. Just as Ron noticed, Harry stood up like he had been the victim of one of George's patented "Arse-Sparkers".
"I need another drink, want one, Ron?"
Ron shook his head, but Harry was already gone. He let his head fall back against the couch. If Hermione turned him down tonight ... he didn't know what he would do. It felt like he had reached a breaking point or something. Like he just might explode into a thousand pieces if he couldn't touch her, hold her skin to skin and feel her breath against his cheek, hear her gasp his name in just that way. Torture, this was. Lying next to her at night with the warm weight of her body pressed against his, her beautiful face relaxed in sleep.
His head snapped up as she walked into the room, carrying a serving bowl.
"Come and sit, Ron, Ginny's finished setting the table."
Her lips tightened slightly as he removed his foot from the table to stand, but she didn't say anything. Thank Merlin.
Dinner was easy enough to get through; he just concentrated on his plate and nodded when it seemed appropriate. Ginny carried most of the conversation, though he noticed a tiny bit of a maniacal edge to her endless chatter. Eventually Harry laid his hand on her arm and moved her fork to her plate, where her food sat largely undisturbed. Ron saw a stern look pass from husband to wife before Ginny finally took a bite, bathing the dinner table in a moment of blissful quiet.
He was polishing off his second plate before everyone finished, Harry and Ginny waving away Hermione's offer to clean up. Ginny led the way back to the living room where Harry appeared moments later bearing a chilled bottle of champagne, three glasses, and a ridiculous smile on his face.
Hermione gripped his arm tightly, her eyes suddenly open very wide. Ron could tell that she was keying in on something just over his head. It was a familiar sensation.
Harry put the bottle and glasses down on the table before wrapping his arm around Ginny's waist, pulling her close to his side. Ron slowly brought his hand up to wrap around the one Hermione had attached to his bicep in an iron grip. The feel of her hand beneath his sent a wave of calm throughout his body.
The Potters', however, seemed to have reached a peak in the energetic frenzy he had been sensing from them all night. They stood perfectly still, but Ron felt as though he could blink and they would be flying around the ceiling. Harry might possibly burst through the ceiling, actually.
Harry looked down into Ginny's eyes, the raw intimacy of the moment making Ron want to cringe a bit. Then he found himself staring into green eyes, glittering feverishly behind slightly askew glasses.
"Ron, Hermione, we wanted the two of you to be the first to know. Ginny and me ... we're having a baby!"
Hermione squealed at a pitch that set Ron's ears ringing, her grip on his arm tightening to the point of pain before she released him to fling herself at Ginny, the resulting cacophony of painfully high pitched screaming battering his poor abused ears.
Once again he was left to stare into his best friend's eyes, watching a tiny flicker of doubt emerge behind the glimmering joy that had been obnoxiously obvious all day. That flicker jolted him into action, grabbing Harry by the shoulder to pull him into his chest, pounding him awkwardly on the back to disguise the embarrassing rush of emotion in the moment.
A baby.
He released Harry with a bit more force than was strictly necessary, sending the smaller man stumbling over to his tear-streaked wife. Ginny looked ... awful. Her hair was falling out of whatever she had used to fasten it to the back of her head, her face was blotchy and wet with tears, and she appeared to have begun a rather nasty round of hiccups. Yet, inexplicably, somehow all of these things combined could not disguise the sense of ... of absolute beauty that emanated from her in waves. The strange sensation reminded him a bit of the softly pulsing light of his deluminator, actually.
Ron zeroed in on Hermione's hands, which were now reverently molding to Ginny's belly as if she were holding a holy artifact or something. Now that he knew to look more closely, he could see a distinct swelling there, like a balloon had been inflated beneath Ginny's usually flat, athletic stomach. It was a bit unnerving, to tell the truth, and it opened up a heretofore-unexplored niche deep inside of him.
He ... wanted that. He wanted to watch Hermione swell with his child, to make her cry and hiccup and glow like this. No, he needed it. Not now, not tomorrow, but someday.
She looked up unexpectedly, catching his eye, and in those glossy depths he saw an echo of this new ... thing inside of him. She wanted it, too. More importantly, she wanted it with him.
Something warm and liquid began to curl around his chest, thawing out the pieces that had been slowly freezing over the past few weeks, bringing a light back into his heart that he had not even realized was almost extinguished. Something much deeper than want flickered in Hermione's eyes before she looked away, turning from Ginny to leap into Harry's arms, peppering the lucky sod with tearful kisses.
Ginny walked up to him, throwing her arms around his waist and resting her head against his chest. He brought his hand up to pat the top of her head, just as he had done when they were little. This earned a giggly hiccup as she released him, looking very directly into his eyes.
"You won't be an arse, will you? You'll be nice to Harry?"
Ron scoffed loudly, pretending offense.
"Course I will. Or won't. Depending on which bit I'm supposed to answer."
She hit him lightly on the stomach, hiccupping again as she turned to sit in the armchair, Harry immediately rushing to her side as if she were about to give birth at any moment. His solicitous murmuring and haste to add a throw pillow behind her back made Ron want to gag.
Hermione sat on the couch and he decided to join her, putting his arm casually around her shoulder in a way she had not tolerated for weeks, his fingers tracing light circles on the exposed skin of her arm. Alright, so perhaps he could understand Harry's manic attention to his wife. Merlin knew, if it were Hermione in that position, he would be carrying her around rather than allow her feet to touch the floor. He chanced a sideways look at her face. Provided she allowed him to disallow her, of course.
Harry settled onto the arm of Ginny's chair, sending a warm smile to his friends.
"You'll have my back, won't you, Ron? When we tell the family? Ginny claims I shouldn't worry, but telling all of your brothers at once ... it could get ugly."
His spreading grin belied the serious tone of his words, releasing an answering grin to split across Ron's face in return.
"We'll just have to see, won't we? What's in it for me, Potter? I've got a bit of paperwork that needs doing if you're keen to earn my support."
Hermione pinched his thigh, making him jump slightly before rejoicing in the fact that she had just touched him mere inches away from where he most desperately desired her touch.
"Don't be ridiculous, Ron. Of course you'll have our full support, the both of you."
Ginny said something thankful, but Ron wasn't listening as something clicked inside his head.
"Wait. Ginny. You haven't told Mum?"
Everyone slowly turned to look at him as if he had just escaped from St. Mungo's.
"No, like I said, Ron, Harry insisted that we tell the pair of you before anyone else."
Ron's eyes widened as he sucked in a deep breath.
"Crups on a cracker, Ginny! Don't you realize what you've done! You haven't told Mum only the most important news of your entire bloody life, and now you've brought us into it! We're all effing done for!"
Hermione pinched him again, hard. Only this time there was no room for celebration as the full weight of Ginny's decision hit him. Mum was going to be beside herself. Bloody Hell, this could get worse than both of their weddings had been, combined!
"You know he doesn't mean it. We're both very honored that you would even consider telling us first, extremely honored! Oh, Harry I just-I-"
Then, like a blocked pipe that had been building up pressure, she started to cry. Not sweet little tears of joy, but great honking sobs barely muffled by her hands pressed to her face. Ron drew back a tiny bit, to look accusingly at Harry, but the prat just shrugged his shoulders like he had had nothing to do with it. Ginny looked a bit like she wanted to cry too, and Harry was soon occupied with patting her hand and whispering something into her ear that Ron was eternally grateful he could not overhear.
He turned to Hermione, gathering her tight against his side and pressing his lips to the top of her head. He hated it when she cried, absolutely hated it. The excruciating helplessness that came over him whenever she burst into tears was the absolute worst sensation. He would rather fight off a flock of dementors than watch her cry like this.
She spoke in painful bursts between sobs, pressing her words into his shoulder.
"I'm-so-sorry-everyone! It's-just-all-so-wonderful!"
A fresh spate of tears accompanied her last word, making Ron's chest tighten unbearably. He framed her face with his hands, letting her tears rush over his thumbs in tiny rivers, meeting her red-rimmed gaze with determination.
He leaned in, for a moment forgetting their audience of two, the room narrowing to include only this woman. His woman. He pressed his lips to hers, tasting her tears and feeling a slight rush of breath as she gave a tiny gasp, pushing back at him while her hands came up to cup the back of his head. He started to scoot closer, moving her back against the arm of the couch.
"Oi! No sense in you lot trying to keep up with us now, seeing as we've already captured the snitch!"
Ron jerked back his head to glare at Ginny, the glint in her eye making him smile involuntarily. Harry was blushing slightly, but Ron could see that their hands were closely intertwined.
Hermione sat up very straight, her hands going immediately to her hair like they always did when they were caught snogging. Her tears seemed to have been forgotten, and she now wore a polite smile on her face, clearing her throat softly.
"Do you know whether it will be a boy or girl?"
Harry and Ginny exchanged a significant look, which ended with Ginny nodding ever so slightly. Harry seemed to take that as a cue and turned back to his friends.
"Not just yet, but we have an appointment with her Healer tomorrow, and we should find out then. Would you like for us to let you know once we're sure?"
Hermione's frantic nodding would have been comical if it weren't so endearing. Ron could tell that this baby was going to be very important to her. He hoped that Ginny was prepared to receive a giant's share of well-researched advice. He'd be willing to bet a hundred galleons that by the end of the week their bookshelves would be swollen with pregnancy books.
Harry's grin nearly split his face in two as he popped open the champagne with a tap of his wand, rounding off the rather eventful evening with a toast to the future.
Thanks for reviewing!