Hey, you guys!
First thing before you start reading. So, so sorry I didn't update sooner. I go to boarding school and come home at weekends, and this site is blocked on their computers. I didn't come home last weekend.
That's my explanation :)
Now... enjoy, I guess!
Harry's confession was like a hand that then drew a blanket of silence over the room. It tucked the corners in around their chins, so it took a while for Hermione to drag herself out from under it and open her mouth again.
"Er... what's the argument about then?" she asked tentatively.
Harry looked at her. "Well, I suppose it's not really that big of a deal, but... well, I want to keep the baby and Cho doesn't. And since she's the one carrying the damn thing there's not a bloody thing I can do to stop her."
He paused, and then started again. "She got a bit angry – saying stuff like, 'well a baby isn't going to help drag this relationship out of the mud is it', and, 'having a baby wasn't exactly a blessing for your parents now was it'. Just stuff like that." He glanced up at Hermione's shocked face. "No, no, she isn't normally like that, she was just angry. And then she said she needed a few hours to think, so I came here. I actually wanted to talk to Ron. I didn't think that he might be training."
"But she can't say things like that!" Hermione burst out. "She's supposed to support you!"
Harry looked down at his feet. "Look," he mumbled, "she's not always like this. She's... she's the best thing in my life right now, and I love her. It's just that she doesn't want to have a baby with me."
He looked so downcast that Hermione gave him a hug. "Harry, if you love Cho, then you have to decide what's more important: a baby, or her? And if you want a baby more than you want Cho, then maybe Cho isn't the most important thing in your life right now."
But Harry just kept looking down at his feet. "But I want a baby with her," he said softly, lifting his head and brushing back his hair. "I want both. I can't leave her."
He stood up. "Thanks for all your help, Hermione, but I'll be back when Ron's here, alright?"
And, with Cormac staring after him, he grabbed the newspaper that had been left on the sofa, and walked out of the room. There was a pause, in which the front door opened, and then it slammed shut. Cormac turned to Hermione.
"Well, that was productive, eh?"
When Ron arrived home that evening, he seemed grumpy.
It was only about five minutes later when Harry turned up again. He came through the door, whispering urgently to Ron, who nodded tiredly. They disappeared into the kitchen. A while later they reappeared. Hermione heard Ron say, "Go for it, mate. She won't be able to resist." But before she had time to ask what they had been saying, she heard a crack as Harry Apparated out of the hallway. Ron shuffled into the living room and collapsed onto a sofa. Hermione followed him into the room, holding a sleeping Katerina in one arm and a squirming Andrei in the other.
"Mummy, put me down!" he whined.
Hermione leaned down and he immediately jumped out of her arms and ran towards Stefan, who was playing contentedly by the door, knocking over the tower of bricks he had been constructing. The wailing that ensued could have smashed windows. Katerina woke up and started shrieking too. Ron sighed.
"Sorry, Hermione, can you shut your kids up please?" he groaned, switching on the Muggle television his father had given him. Hermione nodded, hushing the baby in her arms, who quietened.
"Stefan! Andrei!" she hissed. "Shush!"
"But he knocked down my tower!" cried Stefan.
"I'll help you build a new one, but for now I think the right thing to do would be to go upstairs."
"But Mummy – "
"Go."
Grumbling, the children gathered their toys and mooched out of the room. Andrei gave Stefan a little push as they went out. Ron sighed.
"Thanks, 'Mione." He closed his eyes and listened to the sound of the Muggle news.
There were a few seconds of blissful calm and silence, save for the burbling of the television, before the living room door opened with that creaky noise that doors often open with, the noise that, when you are alone in the house and hear it, makes you think that you are going to die. Cormac walked into the room. His blonde hair had been gelled back with a gel that smelt faintly of raspberries, and he was wearing incredibly tight jeans that left nothing to the imagination. In fact, Hermione noticed, they weren't jeans – they were leather trousers. He grinned at Hermione. Ron gave a little grunt of irritation.
"Heeey, Hermione." Cormac adjusted the belt on his jeans and unbuttoned his shirt a little, so that his chest hair was visible (well, what little there was of it). "I'm going out – you wanna come?"
Hermione gave him a withering stare. "Cormac, I would rather tame a Hippogriff than go out with you."
For a millisecond, Hermione thought she saw hurt flash across Cormac's face. But this was immediately replaced by laughter and raised eyebrows. "Okay," he said, almost chuckling, "fine. There are loads of women where I'm going, and all of them want a piece of the McLaggen pie." He ran a hand down his tight trousers. "See you later, then." He was just about to leave the room, when he turned. "If you change your mind, I'm at the Muggle club down the road."
He turned to go, then looked back again. "And Ron? You can come too, you know, get down with the girls, have a little fun. It wouldn't hurt."
This seemed to annoy Ron more than anything else Cormac had said. He raised his head from the sofa cushion.
"Look, Cormac, can you just get the fuck out? I'm tired of people clogging up my house, and being irritating and rude and just unappreciative." Cormac nodded.
"I get it," he said. "Hermione's just not really a good houseguest, is she?"
"OUT!"
And the front door clicked shut.
The blissful silence fell again. But it was not to last.
"Mummy?" a little voice from the doorway peeped.
It was Stefan. And Andrei. And Stefan had a bloody nose. And was crying profusely. He stumbled into the room, Andrei following nervously.
"H-he punched meeeee," Stefan wailed, in an uncharacteristic moment of childish whining. His brother shifted uncomfortably.
"I didn't," he insisted. "My hand slipped!" And a lot of screaming and shouting ensued. Even when Hermione had fixed Stefan's bloody nose in a heartbeat, it carried on, getting louder and louder and louder. This woke Katerina, who before that point had been once again sleeping soundly in a small carrycot by Hermione's chair, and she promptly began crying again. When it had reached its crescendo, Ron stood up.
:Will you just SHUT UP?" he yelled.
The boys looked up at him, screams dying in their throats, eyes wide. Stefan's lip began to tremble. Hermione swooped into action.
"Boys, you've both been quite naughty," she said, kneeling down to them. "But if you go upstairs and play – nicely – and be quiet, then it'll be fine." Stefan nodded.
"Okay, Mummy," he mumbled. The two of them tiptoed out of the room, eyes wide and shiny with pooled tears, and Hermione stood from her kneeling position and bent down to pick up the still sobbing baby in the carrycot, patting her on the back. She hurried up the stairs to the nursery, and after a few minutes the sobs quietened. There were voices, which sounded like Hermione's and Gabrielle's, and then silence returned. Hermione walked back into the living room. She turned to Ron, who was still standing, red-faced.
He looked back at her. "What?"
"Ron, they're three and five. They don't take being told to 'shut up' nicely," she said angrily. "Look, if you're going to be like this, then maybe I should go with Cormac." Well. Where had that come from? But she couldn't back out now and make herself look an idiot. She went into the hall to grab her coat, turning back to say, "If you get any nicer and more compassionate towards small children, let me know."
It wasn't exactly the snappiest insult in the world, but knowing Hermione it was probably the best she could do.
She walked through the summery night air. It was eight o' clock, but the sky was still light.
Hermione didn't know why she'd said she'd go with Cormac. Because she really, really didn't want to. But she really, really didn't want to hang out with a grumpy ex-fiancée and his wife, and since she had already asked Gabrielle to look after the children, she couldn't go back immediately. So it was off to the local Muggle club or wherever Cormac normally hung out.
Her boots clicked on the pavement – for some reason, the street was deserted and silent, despite the warm summer air. The bushes that bordered the street rustled in the wind. Hermione stopped. Hang on. There was no wind. It was a totally calm evening. So what – ?
Turning, she had just enough time to see a hand emerge from a bush and clamp around her own before the world began to spin and the street disappeared.
A/N: I'll leave it there for you. Just to leave a little cliffy, although some of you may guess what's happened.
See you next time!