Chapter 81

Ron couldn't help but notice that Harry looked up every few minutes. He would scribble something down with his quill and then glance up as if searching for something, and then look back down again. He was more fidgety than usual, too, his leg bouncing beneath the desk, his hand tapping the surface. Occasionally, he'd even sigh.

Although Ron understood why he was doing it, it didn't stop him from becoming irritated. Harry's fussing was disturbing his own work, which was difficult enough in maintaining his interest. He didn't need an anxious Harry beside him.

When it neared midday, Ron had reached his limit. He set his quill down and turned to his best friend. "You know you'll be notified if anything happens, right?"

Harry grimaced but didn't look at Ron. "Am I annoying you?"

"No, not at all. I quite like the rattling of your quill against the desk." He tried to add as much sarcasm as he could muster.

"Sorry," Harry said, tossing the quill onto a pile of parchment. "I can't help it."

"If anything happens with Ginny, you'll be the first to know. But didn't she say — or more, yell — last night that she was pretty convinced the baby was going to stay there forever? That he didn't even want to budge?"

Harry ran hands over his tired face. It had been like this for the past week. Harry on high alert for any news that his baby was on the way. With every day there was no news, the more anxious and annoying Harry became.

"The kid's not even due for another few days," Ron added. "So try not to worry."

"Easy for you to say," Harry groaned. "You're not the one with a kid who could come at any moment."

"No… I'm not," Ron said, not angrily, but a little irritated by the insensitivity of Harry's comment. He did seem to realise what he'd said, though, for he finally looked up.

"Sorry," he said. "I didn't mean… it's just… I'm kind of over it."

"Yeah, you and me both." Ron glanced up at the large clock on the wall. "Listen, mate, it's basically our lunch break. It's fairly quiet in here — no one will miss us if we go a little early. I've organised to meet Hermione, if you want to join. She might be able to talk some sense into you."

Harry nodded, and the two of them left the Auror Office in the direction of the lunch room. The walk itself seemed to calm Harry, though it didn't stop him from glancing up at every memo that flew over their heads, probably wondering if that was the one that was there to tell him his son was on his way.

"I hope Hermione can actually come to lunch," Ron said.

"Malfoy still giving her trouble?" Harry asked, seeming relieved for the momentary distraction.

Ron nodded. "Yeah. I told her it was a bad idea, and now that he's getting more confident in what he's doing, he's getting more confident in talking back to her. It was a mellow Malfoy for a bit, but he's right back to being the arsehole that he is, taking advantage of her hardworking nature. The last few times we've actually tried to organise lunch together, he's told her he's going himself and has just walked out. It's like he knows and is determined to interfere… just to be a prick."

Harry smiled. "Why doesn't she tell him no?"

"Well, he doesn't give her a chance. He just… leaves and she's stuck there for another hour until he returns — and often he's late. I told her it was a bad idea hiring him. But she wouldn't listen. She just saw his qualifications and thought she could work with it. But he's showing his true colours like I knew he would. Now, he's just pissing her off."

Harry shook his head as they continued on to the lunch room. Halfway there, Dean caught up to them, jogging to catch up.

"Hey," he said, breathing heavily.

"Is everything okay?" Harry asked immediately. He stopped walking, looking at Dean.

Dean frowned. "Yeah, everything's fine… I just thought I'd join you…" He looked sceptically at Harry. "Is something supposed to be wrong?"

"Oh, just the impending birth of his child," Ron said, clapping Harry on the back.

"Oh… no, there was no news in the office," Dean promised. "I didn't see anything on your desk."

Harry nodded, his nervousness fully returned, and they continued on their way.

Once they reached the lunch room, Ron was pleased to see it was rather empty. They took up a table near the corner, Ron searching the room for any sign of Hermione. Instead, his eyes fell on a sole blond man sitting by himself, not even acknowledging anything happening around him. He was eating something that he'd bought from here, his now permanent smug expression sitting on his face.

Anger bubbled in Ron and a long string of words that he couldn't say whilst at work formed in his mind. He'd done it again, the bastard. He had somehow known Hermione and Ron had planned lunch together and had interfered. He'd have to have words with Hermione about making her lunch schedule more private so Malfoy wouldn't find out.

As Harry and Dean broke into a conversation about work, Ron sat, glowering at Malfoy's back for longer than he cared to admit. And then he stood, taking off in the direction of Malfoy, fists clenched.

"Where are you going?" Harry asked.

"To find out where my wife is," Ron said over his shoulder. He'd had enough of this. Hermione was Malfoy's boss and always would be. He had no right to do what he was doing — and Ron knew it was one hundred percent just to be an arse.

Malfoy had looked up at the slightly louder voices and turned as Ron approached. He didn't look worried or afraid despite Ron being much taller. In fact, he looked rather bored. As soon as he saw it was Ron, he turned his attention back to his food.

"Afternoon, Weasley," he drawled. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I really don't care to join you for lunch. I don't appreciate the offer."

"Where is she, Malfoy?" Ron demanded, ignoring him.

"Where is who?" Malfoy asked, looking back up at Ron.

Ron felt Harry and Dean's presence behind him, Harry's hand on his back — a warning to not do anything stupid.

He unclenched fists.

"You know who," Ron hissed.

"Granger?" Malfoy asked, sounding almost amused. "She went home."

Ron's fists tightened again. He didn't care — he would happily punch Malfoy if he was goaded any further. He was sick of seeing him everywhere he went. He was sick of him causing Hermione unneeded stress. If Hermione wasn't going to get rid of him, then Ron would do it himself — by giving him a long-term residency at St Mungo's.

"Where is she?" Ron said again. "Have you interfered with her break again —"

This time Malfoy rolled his eyes. "I told you, she went home. She's sick… apparently."

That was a downright lie because Hermione never went home sick. Ever. Even if she was sick, she'd simply go to the Ministry's Apothecary to get something to alleviate the symptoms and continue on. It was one of the benefits of being part of the magical community.

"I swear, Malfoy, if you keep —"

Malfoy sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Listen, Weasley, it's not my fault you and she don't communicate properly. I don't wish to be brought into whatever marital problems you are having. She went home because she kept throwing up her breakfast every five minutes and she was no use to anyone while that was happening."

This time, Harry had to actually physically restrain Ron from grabbing Malfoy by the collar of his robes. He was grateful for no one else being in the lunch room, but Ron had had enough. This was his breaking point — especially if what Malfoy actually said was true. Why hadn't she come to see him to let him know?

But then he remembered something to confirm the fact that Malfoy was lying. "There's a potion for that. If that was the case, she'd just go and get it. Why don't you just admit you're a prat and stole her lunch time again?"

"She did get it," was all Malfoy said.

Rage was surging through Ron now and he felt Harry's hand press down on his back. "Go back and do as you're told, Malfoy, and let my wife actually take a well-deserved break. She works ten times harder than you and you know it."

Now Malfoy really did look amused. "Wow, you really are as stupid as you look, aren't you, Weasley?"

Ron had to fight Harry's hold on him and lost. Harry spun him around, away from Malfoy so that he was forced to look Harry square in the eye. Harry looked surprised about something rather than angry, which annoyed Ron even more than Malfoy talking smack. Wasn't Harry supposed to be on Ron's side?

"Ron," Harry said, his voice low. "That potion…"

"What about it?" Ron snapped, not wanting to talk about the damn potion. He just wanted to have lunch with his wife and for Malfoy to not exist.

"That potion works for every condition that causes vomiting and nausea… except one."

Ron glared. "Which is?"

"Pregnancy."

A cold came over Ron. His fists unclenched and his arms went limp in Harry's hold. "What?" he whispered.

Harry said nothing, only looked at Ron with a very pointed expression. When Ron had nothing else to add, Harry said, "You have to take a different potion for pregnancy-related issues. The standard one is ineffective. Ginny told me."

The lunch room, Malfoy, Harry, Dean — all of it disappeared. For a long moment it was just Ron as he tried to process what Harry was trying to tell him. Was it true? Was Hermione actually pregnant? Could she be? Malfoy was a prat, but it made no sense for him to make something like that up.

In fact, how would Malfoy even know that the potions were separate? Ron hadn't, and he considered himself to be a lot smarter than Malfoy.

He was only brought back to reality because of Malfoy's drawling voice. "Weasley, I really hope it's some kind of mistake and you aren't choosing to breed. That would be disappointing."

Harry let go of Ron, perhaps saying without speaking that it was okay to hit Malfoy now, but Ron no longer cared about Malfoy. All he could think about was his wife and this new information.

Ron looked at Harry, who was now smiling slightly. "Do you think it's true?"

Harry shrugged. "Well, can't say your source is reliable, but…" He shrugged again.

Ron wanted it to be true more than anything. A hope had suddenly filled him to the point that he cared about nothing else. If it really was the case — if Hermione really was pregnant — then it meant that everything they'd been through — losing a baby, the inability to conceive easily, their decision to start trying again but not on a set schedule — had paid off. It might have just worked...

"Well, this has been lovely," Malfoy said, standing up, "but considering we are down a member of our office for the remainder of today, I should be going." He looked at Ron, amused. "I'd offer my congratulations, but I'm really not happy for you. Have a lovely day." He walked away, leaving the others blinking after him.

After a moment, Dean said, "Wow, congratulations, Ron."

Ron shook his head. "Don't say that… don't…" He looked at Harry.

"Go home and see," Harry said. "We won't miss you for a few hours."

When Ron tried to protest, Harry shook his head. "Are you really going to be able to focus after this? Any sane person in your position wouldn't be able to think of anything else. I know how much you want a baby, mate. Go and find out."

He had a point. Ron knew that no matter what, he wouldn't be able to focus. Whether Hermione was pregnant, or she wasn't, he was going to feel something from here on in.

"Go home," Harry repeated. "At the very least, see if she's alright."

Ron nodded. He'd have to now. Or, he'd at least have to see if Hermione was actually home.

"Good luck," Harry said, giving Ron a gentle nudge towards the lunch room exit. Ron couldn't work out if he was genuinely excited or just glad for a distraction from his own worries.

"Yeah," Dean said. "Good luck… I think."

Ron left the pair and went back to the lifts. Firstly, he needed to make sure Hermione actually had gone home, and the only way to know for sure was by going to her office. Maia would be in there and he trusted Maia's word a lot more than he trusted Malfoy's. If he reached Hermione's office and Maia told him she'd gone home, then he'd believe it

He wanted to believe it. He wanted it to be true more than anything. But he needed to hear it from someone who wasn't Malfoy.

He caught the lift in contemplative silence. It was quiet — not the usual bustling place that he was used to. Most people were in their own offices, doing their work, blissfully unaware of Ron's inner turmoil.

His footsteps echoed down the corridor. He felt so alone. Only one other person in the world could possibly understand what was going through his head as he made his way to Hermione's office, and she was most likely at home, sick.

Part of him still very much believed that Malfoy was being the prat that he was and had once again prevented Hermione from joining Ron from lunch. He'd done it multiple times before, but never had Ron confronted him about it. It was too much of a coincidence, he was beginning to realise as the office door drew nearer. The one time he approached Malfoy and that just happened to be the time Hermione actually wasn't at work?

He'd hit Malfoy if he walked in and found Hermione there, he decided. He didn't care. It wasn't as if he enjoyed being an Auror these days, anyway. Let them suspend him, fire him, whatever.

Pausing out the front for a moment, trying to organise his thoughts, Ron finally pushed open the door to the Office of Personal Law. Hermione's desk was directly opposite the door — the largest and the tidiest of the three in the room.

And it was empty.

The same coldness as before shot through him. Panic began to settle within him. And a small amount of joy.

He turned to Maia, the junior lawyer.

"Maia," he said, approaching her desk hastily, startling the young woman who'd been engrossed in whatever it was she was doing.

Ron had always liked Maia, though that wasn't hard when the only other person Hermione worked with was Draco Malfoy. But he liked Maia anyway. She'd just finished Hogwarts when Hermione chose her — a Hufflepuff Prefect apparently — and had received ten NEWTs, which really meant she could have gone anywhere. But she was a half-blood — a Muggle mother and wizard father — and was interested in the things that Hermione had to offer in here.

She'd been nothing but useful and valuable since day one, Hermione had said.

"Auror Weasley!" Maia said, looking up at Ron. That was one thing about Maia — she always seemed to view those older than her as some kind of higher authority. It had taken Hermione a good year to convince the girl to call her Hermione and not Miss Granger.

On the few interactions Ron had had with her, he'd never bothered trying to correct her.

"Hi, Maia," he said. "Er… is Hermione around? We were supposed to meet for lunch, but she never showed."

Maia frowned. Her eyes drifted to Malfoy, who was wearing a very smug expression.

"No," she said. "She went home. Was feeling unwell…"

"I did tell you, Weasley," Malfoy said from his desk.

"Shut up, Malfoy," Ron replied, and Maia's eyes widened at the casual exchange with underlying dislike between them.

"Do you know why?" he then asked Maia, pretending that Malfoy wasn't even in the room.

"She kept running to the bathroom," Maia explained. "Even the potion didn't work… she tried, but I suggested she should go home and she listened to me. Said she thought it was for the best…"

"Well done!" Ron said, smiling. "Glad she listened. Thanks."

"She didn't tell you, Auror Weasley?" Maia asked.

"I was busy," Ron replied, and Malfoy snorted. Ron ignored him.

"Thanks," he said again, and left the office, his whole body shaking with anticipation and nerves now.

Of course Hermione hadn't told him. Why would she have? She would have known there was only one reason the standard potion wouldn't have worked, and there was no way she was walking into the Ministry apothecary, asking for the alternative one. Gossip was strong within these walls. Ron would have known before his shift was over, and she would want to tell him herself. Not to mention the Prophet would have a field day if word leaked.

He laughed, wondering if she'd anticipated him finding out from Draco Malfoy.

He left the Ministry quickly but didn't go straight home like he should have. He used the Floo network to take him to Diagon Alley, slipping out of the Leaky Cauldron almost unnoticed by anyone who might recognise him. Not that he was doing anything wrong, but, well, he shouldn't have been anywhere but sitting in his office, hunched over paperwork.

"Hello." The voice was instant, the moment he entered the flower store right on the edge of Diagon Alley. Ron had been in here a few times over the years, buying flowers for Hermione on special occasions. He liked their arrangements, and she always seemed to appreciate it when he brought them home. He'd learnt that she really liked daffodils and sunflowers and would set them on the kitchen window to catch what little sunlight their place offered. Occasionally, he'd catch her revitalising them with her wand in an attempt to keep them alive even longer.

"Hi," Ron said to the witch who'd greeted him. She wasn't the weird one he'd encountered last time, which he was grateful for.

"What can I do for you today?" the witch asked with a kind smile. "Anything in particular? Special occasion? Anniversary? Birthday?"

Ron opened his mouth but closed it quickly again. Really, he didn't know that Hermione was pregnant. And even if she was, he wasn't going to let a near stranger be the first to hear it.

"Er, a get well gift," Ron said after a moment. "Sunflowers," he added.

The witch nodded and waved her wand. Immediately, a variety of sunflowers came to the bench and she began sorting them.

Ron waited, his insides doing knots. Every second a minute, every minute felt like an hour. He just wanted to get home and see Hermione — to know one way or the other. He didn't want what happened last time — to be left in the dark and completely oblivious to what was going on. Even if this time ended the same, at least he'd know, at least he'd be there when it did.

It felt like forever, but in reality, it was probably no longer than five minutes when the witch finally passed him the bunch of sunflowers.

"They're charmed to survive a month without water," she explained.

"How much?" Ron asked.

"Three Galleons."

Ron handed the coins over and then left the shop. He Disapparated right from the street to the Apparition point in the garden of his house.

The conservatory doors were locked from the outside, and he realised, with a moment of panic, that he didn't have the keys. He rarely took them with him to work, having no need for them since he Floo'd directly from home to the Ministry and back each day, and he was fairly confident they were still in the dresser drawer in his bedroom.

He transferred the flowers to his other hand and took out his wand. The soft click of the lock unlatching prompted him to open the doors and enter.

The place was quiet, but that was unsurprising. If Hermione really was unwell, then she'd most likely be lying on the sofa or up in bed.

He checked the living room first, but it was empty apart from Crookshanks curled up on one end of the sofa. The cat lifted his head at the sound of Ron's footsteps, giving him an indifferent look.

"So that's what you do when we aren't home," Ron mused. "You're not with Hermione?"

Crookshanks lowered his head and closed his eyes once more.

Ron made for the stairs, taking them two at a time. He hoped she was well enough to talk to him. He didn't know what it was like to be pregnant, and he never would. Ginny had seemed alright, he supposed, but he did remember Fleur looking rather green at times with Victoire and Dominique.

He'd just reached the landing when the bathroom door opened. Ron froze, looking into the dazed eyes of Hermione. She did not look good. She was pale, a light glint of sweat lined her face and she just… didn't look like the Hermione he knew.

Her eyes widened upon seeing him, and then her expression softened. "Oh, Ron, I'm sorry I didn't meet you today… what are you doing here?" Her eyes fell on the flowers briefly, before moving back to him. She didn't seem to have the energy to say or do much else.

Ron looked down at the beautifully decorated gift of flowers he'd brought her, unsure what to say or how to feel at this moment. She was sick, that much he could tell, but… she wasn't saying anything. Did that mean she wasn't anything but sick? Or that she didn't want him to know?

"When you didn't show up I… inquired about where you were and they said you were home."

She smiled slightly, and they just stood there, staring at each other. Ron wanted it to be her — he wanted her to explain — but it became clear very quickly that she wasn't going to.

He took a step towards her, the flowers now hanging limply by his side. "Hermione… Hermione… are you… pregnant?" It almost pained him to say it outloud, knowing full well that the last time he said that word it had not been a happy time. But he had to ask. He had to know.

Hermione's mouth opened, but no words came out, and her stunned silence was enough of a confirmation for Ron. He closed the gap between them, taking her in his arms and just holding her. It was all he could do. Relief, happiness, and also fear, flooded him, but feeling her there was all he needed and wanted. She relaxed against him, burying herself into his chest.

"I love you," he said, holding her tightly. "I love you so very, very much."

"I love you, too." Hermione pulled away, smiling up at him. She felt so clammy in his arms, and she now looked a little green. But, she managed to take his hand and lead him to their room. She sat down on the edge of the bed, covering her mouth in a fashion that Ron thought she might be sick again.

Ron sat beside her, placing the flowers on the bed and resting a hand on her back. "You okay?" he asked. "Is there anything I can get you?"

She shook her head and removed her hand, picking up her wand from the bedside table. "Do you want to see for yourself?" she asked.

It took Ron a moment to realise what she meant. But once he realised, he nodded. "I want to be a part of everything this time," he said softly. "Every little thing."

She smiled and Ron watched as she performed the spell he'd seen her perform time and time again over the last year and a half. He was so used to seeing the white stream of light leave her wand that even though he was expecting green this time, his breath still caught. His heart rate quickened as he watched it come out and briefly float in front of them.

It was such a beautiful, stunning colour — perhaps his new favourite. He stared at it until it dissolved and then turned back to Hermione, beaming. "We're going to have a baby," he whispered. "We really are, aren't we?"

Hermione nodded, gathering his hands in hers and squeezing them tightly. "I think so," she whispered. "I hope so. It feels so different this time, Ron. In a good way, I mean. I never felt so… so sick last time. I never felt so tired, like I can barely get up in the morning. I think that's why I've been so exhausted lately. Right from the beginning… it's so, so different. I… I just hope it sticks this time." There was a flicker of apprehension in her voice now, and her hands shook in his.

Ron kissed her, cupping her face in his hands and kissed her. "It will," he said. "It will this time, Hermione. I know it will." It has to. He didn't want to see her go through what she went through last time; watching her fall apart.

She smiled at him through tears, her eyes not leaving his for some time. Ron smiled back.

He loved her so much and he wanted to tell her over and over and over.

"Do you want to know if we are having a boy or a girl?" she then asked.

"Yes," Ron said without hesitating. He'd meant it when he'd said he wanted to know everything. He didn't want to be kept in the dark. He wanted to know everything about their baby — the one they wanted more than anything else in the world. If he could know what they were going to name it right now, then he would want that, too.

Hermione nodded and lifted her wand again and whispered a new spell that was unfamiliar to him.

It took a few seconds, but when he saw it, he stiffened. Not out of disappointment, not out of fear, but purely out of complete shock that everything was suddenly so… real. He'd seen the green stream of light from Hermione's wand finally confirming her pregnancy and now… now he was staring at three bright pink ribbons floating down from the air and settling onto his lap.

All either of them could do was stare at them, not saying anything, but soaking in the information that had just been laid before them.

Ron picked up one of the ribbons and ran it between his fingers. It was silky, smooth, and… he couldn't describe the emotions running through him. He was filled with so much love. Love for Hermione, the most amazing person on the planet, and love for their daughter… daughter...

He looked at Hermione. Tears had started rolling down her cheeks and her lips trembled ever so slightly.

"A girl," she whispered. "We're having a little girl."

"Not just a girl," Ron said, unable to contain the grin spreading across his face. "The most amazing, incredible little girl to ever exist. And she's ours." He put his hand on Hermione's stomach where he hoped the baby was. Hermione covered it with her own hand.

Ron wanted his daughter so much already. So many other emotions ran through him in that moment — terror, excitement — but mostly all he felt was a deep want to meet the baby that was now growing inside of Hermione. He wanted to hold her, to see her, and more than anything he just wanted to love her.

Hermione kissed him lightly, then pulled away and smiled at him again. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but before she could get any words out, she jumped to her feet and dashed to the bathroom.

Ron picked up the flowers he still hadn't given her. They seemed insignificant now and he realised he'd only got them as compensation — something to do if it turned out they'd all been wrong.

But they weren't wrong.

He smiled again.

Hermione returned to the bedroom, her face pale, her hair wet on the sides. Ron realised now that she wasn't actually sweaty, but she'd put water on her face to cool herself down.

"Sorry," she groaned.

"Don't be!" Ron said, holding out the flowers. "For you, my beautiful wife, mother of my child… I love you."

Hermione accepted them, bringing her face close to take in the scent. Immediately, he saw her pale and she turned her face away.

"Sorry," Ron said, taking them back. "I didn't —"

She shook her head. "It's not just that. It's everything. It happened so suddenly. Today, it was the perfume Maia was wearing. I was feeling a little off already, but when she came to my desk, I just…" she collapsed onto the bed. "I've never felt this bad before."

"Do you have the potion?" Ron asked. "The right one, I mean?"

Hermione shook her head again. "I couldn't even get myself to Diagon Alley…"

"I'll get it," Ron said. "You just lie there. I'll go now."

"Don't you have to work?" Hermione questioned.

Ron paused. He'd momentarily, in his happiness and slight shock, forgotten that he was only supposed to be here to check in with Hermione. She smiled up at him, reaching out and squeezing his hand.

"I'll be fine," she whispered.

"It's pretty quiet today," Ron said, squeezing back. "They won't miss me."

She gave him a look to say don't even think about it. He sighed.

"I'll get it straight after, alright?"

She nodded and then settled back against the bed. Ron leaned down to kiss her, but she pulled away.

"The flowers," she choked.

"Sorry," Ron replied. He kissed her forehead, making sure to keep the flowers as far away as possible. "I'll put them downstairs. I love you so much."

"I love you, too," she replied.

Ron left, carrying the flowers down the stairs, unable to stop himself from smiling.

They were going to have a baby. It had finally happened and it was a girl. That thought thrilled him beyond words.

He'd never put too much thought into that aspect before, but seeing the pink ribbon, knowing that he was going to have a daughter, set everything into motion for him.

As he placed the flowers in a vase on the windowsill of the kitchen, only one thought ran through Ron's head.

His daughter didn't even have a name yet, she didn't have a face, or anything, but he knew that without a doubt, no matter what else was thrown their way, he was going to love his little girl more than anything else in the world.

He already did, and he doubted she was bigger than his smallest fingernail.

He couldn't wait to actually hold her in his arms, which he knew he would this time. By the time the year was out, he'd be a dad, and quite frankly, nothing made him happier.

This was going to be the best year he'd ever had.

Hermione's 'morning sickness' is based off of my own experience in early (and mid in my case) pregnancy. When mine started, it was the first and only time I had to call a home visit doctor because I was simply unable to leave my house I was so sick. I lost 5kg early on and survived on tomatoes and chocolate (the only two things I could keep down). Was... not my favourite time. So, yes, sorry Hermione.

Also, I do try to explain the age gaps between the kids as the chapters go by, but a brief summary so as people aren't too confused: the books do not diictate how many years ahead James is of Albus and Rose (I think CC says 2, but as stated in the first first chapter, I'm disregarding that). I head canon that James is born April 2005 (where we currently are) and Rose December 2005. Albus and Rose's year would start with kids born from September 1 2005 to August 31 2006. I head canon that Albus is born very late August 2006, just squeezing in (puts James and Albus about 16 months apart). So, yes, it does make sense that James and Rose are kind of closer in age than Rose and Albus. I love not having canon birth dates to work with here ;)