Anything for Love

coriander

Rating: R
Genres: Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 02/10/2003
Last Updated: 25/12/2010
Status: completed

This is an oldie but a goodie! One of my most popular stories. I added an Author's note at the end... you will be seeing more Coriander stories soon! --Harry is in love with the most wonderful woman. But she is married to his best friend. Ten years of watching her marriage fall apart is more than Harry can take. (Books 1-5)

Chapters

1. Prologue

2. Chapter 1

3. Chapter 2

4. Chapter 3

5. Chapter 4

6. Chapter 5

7. Chapter 6

8. Chapter 7

9. Chapter 8

10. Chapter 9

11. Chapter 10

12. Chapter 11

13. Chapter 12

14. Chapter 13

15. Authors Note

16. Chapter 14

17. Chapter 15

18. Chapter 16

19. Chapter 17

20. Chapter 18

21. Chapter 19

22. Chapter 20

23. Chapter 21

24. Chapter 22

25. Chapter 23

26. Chapter 24

27. Chapter 25

28. Chapter 26

29. Chapter 27

30. Chapter 28

31. Chapter 29

32. Chapter 30

33. Chapter 31

34. Chapter 32

35. Chapter 33

36. Update from Author

1. Prologue

Prologue

Here I am… alone, again. As I lay on my bed staring at the ceiling, I wonder how I let it get this far. Even though it isn’t very far at all. You see, I’m in love. I have been for thirteen years. The problem is, that she is so far out of my reach that I can’t stand it.

I know, you’re wondering how anyone could be out of reach for me, Harry Potter – The Boy Who Lived, The Man That Defeated Voldemort, and the Most Eligible Wizard for the past ten years running. But that’s the thing. I love her because she doesn’t see me as any of those things. I am just Harry to her. I will always be just Harry.

I am in love with the most amazing woman. She is brilliant, beautiful, charming, gentle, graceful, generous, lovely… I could go on and on. But the big thing that she is, is… married. And to boot it all, she’s married to my best friend. Ron Weasley is the luckiest bloke on the face of this earth and he doesn’t even have a clue.

Ron was always jealous of me when we were at school, because of what I had. All I had was a name. If I could have changed my name, I would have. I never wanted to be Harry Potter, the-boy-who-always-lived-in-peril, the-man-who-had-to-kill-Voldemort-in-order-to-live, the-so-called-savior-of-the-wizarding-world. I still don’t want to be Harry Potter. I want to be Ron Weasley, the second youngest of seven siblings, the son of the Minister of Magic, the father to two beautiful children, and the husband to Hermione Granger-Weasley, my other best friend, the woman I love.

I’m not quite sure when I fell in love with Hermione, but I stayed back as to not interfere with she and Ron. I was there when Ron asked her to the Christmas Ball during our sixth year. I was there when Ron proposed to her in the Burrow after seventh year. I was the one who walked her down the aisle and gave her away. I am the godfather of their son and daughter, Arthur and Candace. I was there for both births. I was there through it all even though it was killing me inside.

I knew I needed to be there for them. I am their best friend, after all. I want them to be happy. At first, I knew that they were, but now I’m not so sure. Neither one looks all that happy anymore. Anyone looking from the outside would think that they are the perfect couple. I’ve seen the truth, it’s not all peaches and cream.

I’m not saying that their marriage is bad. It’s just not as smooth as the front they put up for everyone else. Sure, they fight, everyone does. But what kills me, is that my redheaded prat of a best friend is blind and dumb. He doesn’t ever see how wonderful his wife is.

Take tonight for example. All of our friends got together to celebrate my thirtieth birthday. Happy Birthday to me! Well, enough of the self pity for now. Tonight, Hermione looked exquisite. Her hair was charmed up in a twist exposing her smooth neck. She was wearing a black strapless number that did nothing to hide her ‘assets’. A little cleavage, a little leg… damn… I have never seen her look more radiant. Did Ron once give her a compliment? Take a wild guess.

Every time I saw her, I told her how wonderful she looked or how beautiful she was. My heart swelled at her smile. I don’t remember her smiling at all throughout the party except when she was with me. Maybe I’m just seeing things, or not, as the case may be. Maybe she did smile when I wasn’t looking. No, that would have been hard to do, considering I couldn’t take my eyes off her all night. I wonder if she noticed. So what if she did? It’s not like I can do anything about it.

I really wanted to slap Ron upside the head when he refused Hermione a dance. I saw her sit dejectedly in the corner watching him ‘mingle’ with our old friends. ‘Mingle’ is a very nice was of me saying ‘flirt’. When I saw her sit down and slowly start to sip her wine, I graciously offered a dance. At first she refused, thinking I was pitying her. I finally talked her into it after a couple moments of puppy-dog eyes and a crooked smile. It was the best time I could have ever imagined.

She felt so good in my arms. I could get lost in her perfume, her scent. The smile I couldn’t suppress was mirrored on her face. I love making her happy, even if its only once in a while. We danced together most of the evening, getting lost in the music, unphased by time, enthralled with each other.

When we all left to go our separate ways, Ron had the audacity to thank me for keeping Hermione occupied throughout the night. I never wanted to punch him so hard in my life. I nodded to him and watched as he turned, put a hand on the small of her back and whispered something in her ear making her laugh. Why can’t I be the one with his arm around her? I want to be the one who makes her laugh. I want to be the one going home with her.

Now, here I am… alone, wallowing in my self-induced misery. She could have been mine, but I refused to follow my heart, thinking that I would make her a target for Voldemort. I knew that I had to confront him, and one of us had to die for the other to live. I would not put her through that hell. Losing your best friend would have been one thing, losing your lover would have been even worse. She deserved a future, and I was never sure I could offer that, until it was too late.

Ten years. Ten years I have watched their marriage. Ten years, I have been their sounding board. Ten years, I have been miserable. I don’t think I can handle another ten minutes of this. I love her. I want her to be happy. I want her, plain and simple.

2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1 - ‘Dreams come True?’

The sun was setting a beautiful shade of red as I watched the reflections dancing on the water. I love the beach. It is so peaceful here, especially with the company I am with. I look out into the water and see her, her brown curls haphazardly piled on top of her head. She’s laughing at the boy and girl that are with her. The boy, tall with sandy brown hair and freckles was trying to dive down and stand on his hands in the water. Suddenly I saw his head disappear and his feet come straight up almost hitting the girl’s face. His sister, the girl, had copper curls that cascaded down her back, and dark chocolate eyes, just like her mother, who was now trying desperately to turn her son right side up.

I sat there for what seemed like an eternity watching them, namely her. Gods, she is beautiful. My heart swells at the fact that she is here with me. I had wanted her for so long and now she was here on the beach with me. I shook my head to clear my mind and saw her leaving the children in the shallow water as she walked up the sand to where I am sitting. Her body is amazing. I watch the droplets of water bead and roll down her skin. I find one that catches my eye; it is slowly making a trail over her collarbone, down past the top of her breast and disappearing into the valley hidden beneath the fabric of her suit. I wanted to follow it, kiss everywhere that one drop of water had gone. I lick my lips and stare into her brown eyes.

Nothing is said as she smiles seductively at me and leans forward to kiss me. I close my eyes, anticipating the feel of her lips on mine, but instead of kissing me, she says my name. I open my eyes to look at her, and instead of seeing the beautiful woman I love, I am staring at my ceiling. Here I am again. Dreaming of her. Hermione. I look down and see the results of said dream and groan at the deception of the lower half of my body. I absently start to reach for my erection and am brought out of my meanderings by a soft voice and a knock on my flat door.

“Harry?”

I know that voice. I love that voice. Hermione.

Another knock. “Harry, are you home?”

I yell back that it will be just a minute. I put my dressing gown over my mostly naked body and adjust the boxers and robe to hide any indication of the hard-on I have yet to relieve. I quickly pad to the door, let down the wards and open it. She is sitting on the ground with her head in her hands. I can see her shoulders shaking and I bend down to lift her into the flat.

She looks so weak, so sad. I lift her into my arms and she buries her tear-streaked face in my shoulder. I would give anything in this world to take away her pain, to kiss her and hold her for the rest of my life. I know what happened. It happens all the time. She and Ron fight, she walks out and comes to me for comfort and advice. She always goes back, but something is different this time. Usually she is talking by now, ranting at how much of an ass my best friend is. But tonight she is silent, clinging to me as if she were drowning.

I set her down gently on the couch and go to make some tea. She always wants tea, Earl Grey with a touch of honey and cream. I make it just to her liking, and carry the tray out into the living room. She is sitting on the couch staring into a fire that she must have started. I look at her closely, like I always do. Her eyes are red and puffy, her hair is disheveled, and her lips are swollen. She is beautiful, even in such disarray. She is the most beautiful creature I have ever seen.

I sit down beside her and she immediately envelops me in her arms. Her sobs are breaking my heart. She is still not saying anything. I gently run my fingers through her tangled hair. “Mione? What happened?” I ask softly.

Her voice is so quiet I have to strain to hear it as she talks into my chest. “Ron and I had a fight,” she mumbles almost coherently. My heart breaks a little more at the sound of her voice.

“What happened? Everything seemed fine at the party.”

She raised herself up from me and I shivered at the loss of her warmth. That’s when I looked down and realized I was still only in a dressing gown and boxers, my previous ‘problem’ almost gone. If she noticed, she didn’t say anything. I look at her and see her brown eyes shiny with tears. “Harry, am I pretty?” she asked humbly.

“Oh, Mione, you are beautiful. Why?” I just want to kiss away every single tear from her face. I want to rip my so-called best friend into a million shreds like he has done to her.

She sits up, focusing on her clenched hands in her lap, nervously fumbling with a tissue. “Well, Ginny and Draco came by after the party and Draco pulled me aside. He told me that while you and I were dancing, Ron had snuck off periodically with one of my ex-friends.” She said the last word with a bit more than disgust. She looked up at me and saw the sympathy in my eyes. She also seemed to read the unasked question. “It was Lavender. I always wondered what was keeping him so late at work all the time. Tonight answered that question.”

I stayed quiet, letting her explain everything. I secretly hoped that Ron was cheating on her, because then it would be my turn to come in and pick up the pieces. “You know how Ron has been working late for the past few months?” I nod. “I barely see him. The kids miss him. Well, Lavender is his boss’ secretary. I asked him if he was seeing her and he blew up.” Her tears had started to subside and her voice seemed steadier. I grasped her hand and squeezed it reassuring her.

“Harry, he’s been sleeping with her. I know he has. He hasn’t admitted it yet, but I know. He’s always making excuses about being called into work at weird hours. He’s even tried using you as an excuse sometimes. Little does he know that on those nights you seem to know that something is wrong and call by floo to check on me.” I smiled at her even though my blood was boiling underneath. How dare he? How dare he use me as an excuse for his extramarital liaisons? When I get a hold of him, he will regret ever meeting me.

Hermione’s voice breaks me out of my planning Ron’s demise. “Harry, he hasn’t touched me in six months. Am I that disgusting that he has to go to Lavender, ‘the Hogwarts whore,’ instead of being with me?”

Now I really want to kill Ron. How can he make such a beautiful, intelligent woman, doubt herself because of his infidelity? “Hermione, love. You are beautiful, exquisite. Ron is the biggest prat I have ever met. He is beyond stupid. I can’t explain his actions, nor do I condone them. Hermione, you make most men turn their heads to watch you walk past them. You are the most intelligent and beautiful woman I have ever known. Ron is blind not to see that,” I tell her soothingly as I wrap my arms around her, pulling her close. I hate him. He will pay.

She becomes shy all of a sudden and looks sheepishly at me. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

Oh, how I wish I could tell her everything. I want to take her away from this. She deserves so much better. I’m not even sure if I’m good enough for her, but she needs to understand that Ron is Ron and the rest of the world doesn’t see things the same as he does. I gently pull her away from me to make sure she can see the intensity in my eyes. I want her to understand. “Hermione, you know I would never lie to you. You are beautiful. You always are to me.”

Oh shit, did I just say that out loud? Damn it. Sometimes I wish my mind and mouth would communicate more so that my mouth wouldn’t decide to throw a coup in the most inopportune times. She heard it. I know she heard it. She’s got that look in her eye. The one that says ‘Harry James Potter, what the hell are you talking about?’ I don’t say anything, because I know my mouth will rebel again. We sit in silence staring at each other for quite a few excruciating moments. I look away from her. I can’t look at her anymore. I want to kiss her so badly. Kiss her and make everything better. It would be so simple wouldn’t it?

“Why can’t Ron be more like you, Harry?” What did she just say? I look back at her, disbelieving. Did she really just say what I think she said? She gives me a weird look. “What? I just mean that you are going to make some woman very happy someday?”

“I hope so,” I say under my breath, silently cursing my mouth for getting away from me again. When did my veins become so prominent on my hand? My hands are becoming more and more interesting as I fear where this conversation is now heading. She doesn’t want to feel sorry for herself anymore, so it’s my turn.

“Harry, you’re my best friend. You can tell me anything.” She lifts my chin so that I am looking at her again. What is it with her and eye contact? My heart is racing as I start to get lost in those brown pools. I nod at her absently, remembering that she was trying to come to an understanding with me.

“Harry, why haven’t you settled down?” Not the question I want to answer at this moment. Please God get me out of here. “The last girlfriend you had was Ginny and that was seven years ago. What’s holding you back? You’re not hiding something from me are you?” I look at her wondering what on earth could I be hiding from her that would explain this conversation, other than I am madly in love with her and want to sweep her into my arms and do all sorts of unmentionable things to her. “You’re not, you know… batting for the other team are you?”

Batting for the other team? What the hel… “Oh, no. Hermione, I still like women. I swear.” Great, she thinks I’m gay. How can I win her over, when after all we’ve been through, she thinks I’m gay?

“Well then, there’s got to be something or maybe someone that is keeping you from dating. C’mon, tell me.” Her eyes are bright and curious. The argument with Ron and the previous tears, all but forgotten. She wants to torment me, make me spill my guts. I curse my mind and my heart, which are struggling to make my mouth obey one of them. My mind says to keep it quiet, my heart wants me to confess, tell her everything. Merlin help me.

“I am in love with someone.” Damn my bloody mouth. Of course it would listen to my heart, its been trying to disconnect itself from my brain most of the night anyway, why not ruin my life some more.

She’s giddy now. I feel like I should be wearing PJs with my hair in pigtails gossiping about boys and first kisses and such. How did I get myself caught in this? “Tell me! C’mon Harry, who is she? Do I know her?”

“Yes, you know her.” I am going to cut my lips off and sew my mouth shut.

“Who is she?” Her eyes are sparkling. Why? Why do they have to sparkle now?

“I can’t tell you that.” OK, my mouth is starting to listen to reason. Lets see if I can bribe it a bit with some ice cream or something, just so it will keep quiet.

“How long have you known her? Did she go to Hogwarts with us?”

Curiosity killed the cat, Hermione. Please, don’t do this. “I’ve known her almost as long as I’ve known Ron.” Good answer. That could mean almost anyone we went to school with.

“Does she know?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I can’t tell her.” Keep the answers short. This might work.

“Why not?”

“She’s married.” Damn it. I spoke too soon. I can flub this up yet.

“Oh. I still think she should know, Harry.”

I can’t look at her. If I look at her I swear I’ll break down and tell her everything. She would be a great interrogator. They need people like her in Scotland Yard. “What would it change? She’s married.”

“Well, you are so in love with her that you have stopped dating. You must compare all your dates to her and just can’t find anyone who can compete. You don’t want to date unless it’s with her. Maybe if you tell her, it will help you move on.”

“I doubt that.” My mouth escapes once more.

“Harry, she deserves to know. Any woman that has captured your heart in such a way, deserves to know. You need to tell her, even if it is just to ease your own mind.” She sounds so sweet. If it were only that easy.

“If I tell her, I would lose her. I would hurt her and her husband. I don’t want to do that.” My heart is breaking with every word I say. I get up from the couch and pace. This is the only way that I can think. How can I get out of this? What can I say to stop her?

“I know that if someone loved me like that and told me, I would leave Ron in a heartbeat.” She sounds so cheery, I know that is what I wanted to hear, but now it just sound so… wrong.

“I don’t want to be the reason anyone leaves their husband. I don’t know how she feels, and I’m afraid to know.” Please, anyone listening, please help me. What do I do?

“What if she feels the same?”

“What if she doesn’t?”

“Harry, you have to tell her. She needs to know. Is her marriage bad?”

“Not necessarily.”

“Then, what are you scared of?”

“Everything.” God, I can’t even think anymore. What does she want, my blood?

“Harry, here’s the phone, call her. Floo her. Tell her.” She has the telephone in her hand, shoving it toward me. God, why can’t she just let it go? I’ve lived ten years like this, I can go a while longer.

“No, Mione, I can’t call her. I can’t Floo her. I can’t tell her!”

“Harry, stop being so stubborn. You may be denying a woman a chance at happiness. She may be miserable for all you know. Call her.” She’s shoving that damned phone in my face again.

“NO! I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because she’s right in front of me.” Oh Fuck! I am definitely cutting my lips off now. I will never speak again. My mouth is going to be sewn shut at my earliest convenience. Oh God, she’s looking at me now. The only sound I hear is my heart beating out of my chest. I can’t believe I said it. I can’t look at her. I can’t. I turn around to stare into the fire.

A few moments pass and I suddenly feel her hand on my shoulder. Oh God. “H-Harry, y-you l-love me?” I grit my teeth and closed my eyes. I can’t stand this pain. I nod slowly as the tears escape my eyes. She slowly comes to the front of me, urging me to look at her. It takes me a few moments, but I open my eyes and see her brown eyes full of tears staring right back at me.

I’m not sure how it happened but suddenly her lips are on mine, sweet and hungry at the same time. I can’t help but react. My hands explore her face and hair as hers journey over my back and down. Holy shit, Hermione’s hands are on my ass! Oh God, how do I stop this? This is so wrong. She is married to my prat of a best friend. Oh, this is so wrong. But God it feels so right.

3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 – Confusion

How did this happen? What am I doing here, lying in Harry’s bed staring at his ceiling? My heart is bursting out of my chest as I think back to a few hours ago. He told me he loved me. I kissed him. God, I have never been kissed like that. I never wanted it to end. But like all good things, it had to end. We didn’t say anything to each other afterwards except good night. I came in here and he slept on the couch, like always.

Every time Ron and I argue, I end up here, sleeping in Harry’s bed while he sleeps on the couch. I love his bed. It’s soft and warm and smells just like him. I have always loved his smell, like warm toffee with a bit of musk. Harry. How could I not realize what he felt? He’s been my best friend since we were eleven, how could I miss it? Now that I know, what am I supposed to do?

I have loved Harry for a long time, but never took it anywhere. He was always so preoccupied with Voldemort. He never had time for girlfriends, even after Voldemort was dead. I think I can count the women he’s dated on one hand. I remember when he dated Ginny. Everyone thought they would get married. When they broke up, I was shocked to say the least. I always assumed that he was still stuck on her and the fact that she was with Malfoy added to his pain. That was why he didn’t date anymore. I guess I was wrong.

I never expected him to be in love with me. I’m married to Ron. Although it’s not perfect, we’ve had our share of good times and bad. Harry always ends up getting caught in the middle. Oh God, he has been sitting there, listening to my marital problems for ten years, and all the while he was pining away… for me. My heart is breaking for all the pain I inadvertently caused him. It’s because of me that he hasn’t settled down. It’s because of me that he’s not happy. To tell the truth, it’s because of him that I’m not happy, either.

Looking back, I fell in love with Harry long before I did Ron. I just threw it aside as mere hero worship, to begin with. He was the Harry Potter. Later when we became best friends, I never thought he would see me in any other light. I remember how his girlfriends used to get jealous because of me. Honestly, I used to be jealous of them. They were the ones that got to hold his hand or kiss him. I hated Cho Chang for giving him his first kiss. ‘Wet’ is not the best way to experience a first kiss. Last night’s kiss was wet, but in such a good way. I can’t dwell on that, I need to figure this out.

When Ron had asked me to the ball in sixth year, I went hoping it was only as friends. He told me how much he loved me that night; no one had ever said that to me. No one had ever paid attention to me like that. I jumped at it. We started dating and I was happy, or at least I thought I was at the time. Looking back, I don’t regret it, but I know that something was always missing.

Looking back at all the momentous occasions in my life, Harry was there. Oh how it must have hurt him to give me away to Ron at our wedding. Poor Harry. I can’t help the tears from falling at the idea of having possible happiness a breath away and not being able to have it. I cry at how many times Harry helped me back on my feet just to watch me go and fall back down again. But he still picked me back up time and time again.

Last night, when Ron hadn’t denied his affair with Lavender, I wanted to leave and never look back, but with two children, that’s hard. Now I have the chance to walk away. Leave him. Leave the pain. I want what I felt last night when I danced with Harry. I want what I felt when I kissed him. I have never felt so… complete.

I stare out the window into the dawning sky. I have been laying here for hours, unable to sleep. My mind and my heart won’t stop. I want Harry. I’ve always wanted Harry, and now he’s right there at my fingertips. Right there, in the next room, sleeping on the couch. Do I have it in me to go for it? Damn, I need a woman’s advice right now.

I get up and dress, trying to be quiet as not to disturb my host sleeping in the living room. I apparate to Hogsmeade and wander aimlessly through the town. I know where I’m going, but I need to clear my head a bit first. Do I love Ron? Yes. Do I love Harry? Yes. Which one will give me happiness? Harry, maybe. But what about the good times that Ron and I have shared? I can’t just throw that away for ‘maybe.’ Much faster than I expected, I find myself standing in front of ‘la casa de Malfoy’ as we all call it. I know Ginny should be up shortly. Little Annemarie should be waking for her feeding soon.

Ginny and Draco. Now there’s something that no one expected. They’ve been married for four years now. Ginny just gave birth to Annemarie five months ago. They are so happy. I know I hated Draco at Hogwarts. But since his father was put in Azkaban at the end of our fifth year, Draco gained a better role model in Severus Snape to watch over him. Snape had pulled him under his wing and Draco became another spy for the Order. Voldemort never expected for his right-hand-man’s son to turn against him. Draco later became an auror alongside Harry, putting his father’s ‘friends’ in Azkaban. Poetic justice if you ask me.

I slowly walk up the stones to the house; the butterflies in my stomach are now feeling more like hippogriffs. I gently knock and smile at the sound of Annie giggling at something. Ginny answers the door in her dressing gown, her eyes still puffy from sleep. She knows that Ron and I had a fight, if only that were the real reason I was here. She offers me some tea and a seat on the couch. A few moments later she returns with Earl Grey, sugar instead of honey. Well, I’ll live. I smile as I recall that Harry had made the same tea last night, but he knew how to make it my way. He was always that way. He always did things to please others. That’s why he stayed on the sidelines for so long, he was more focused on my happiness, although happiness seems to be a foreign word to me.

“All right, Hermione, spill it,” Ginny says as she plops down beside me on the couch.

“Gin, I need some advice.” She smiles and nods.

“What did my prat of a brother do now?”

“Well, it’s not all about him.” I shake my head. Where do I start? “Let me start at the beginning.” I proceed to tell her everything from the past twelve hours; everything from Ron not wanting to dance to Harry and I kissing. She is smiling. Why in the hell is she smiling? I hear a faint voice come from the other room and turn to see Draco rubbing his eyes as he settles into the armchair across from his wife.

“Morning, love. Hermione.” His voice is husky from sleep. “And to what do we owe such early morning company today.” Ginny shoots him a look. It wasn’t a dirty look, but one more of concern, comprehension. “Oh, so I guess Potter has finally spilled the beans.” I just want to smack that smirk off his face. Then I realize what he just said.

I look at Ginny and she nods. “Ginny, how long have you known?”

“I’ve known since your sixth year. Why do you think Harry and I split up? He was so stuck on you. I couldn’t compete with his best friend. I loved him, but he was in love with you.” You’ve got to be kidding me. This can’t be happening.

“Did everyone know?”

Draco smiles and talks through the rim of his teacup. “Everyone but you and Ron.”

I am dumbfounded. Now I feel utterly stupid. How could I not have known, when everyone else did? “All right. So everyone knows. What do I do?” My eyes are filling with tears that I didn’t know were coming. I thought I had cried them all out last night and earlier this morning.

Draco stands up and offers me a handkerchief and sits down on the other side of me. The two of them exchange a look. I wish they would just stop that. I hate not knowing what is going on around me. Draco suddenly pulls me to face him. I’m staring into his blue-grey eyes that are full of concern, understanding and love. “Hermione, you have to follow your heart. Don’t think about the past. Don’t think about anything other than what you felt when Harry told you. Do you understand?”

I nod slightly. Ginny doesn’t think I understand and she says so. “What my Dumbledore-wanna-be-husband is trying to say is this – what did you fell with Harry last night?”

“Whole. Content. Peaceful. Loved.” The words come out before I even realize I said them.

“When was the last time Ron made you feel like that?” I look at my sister-in-law. Her eyes are glossy, I can see the pity in her yes. I don’t want pity. But that’s what this is. Pity. I have an ass for a husband and an angel for a best friend. I can’t even remember the last time Ron made me feel all those things at once. I don’t think I have ever felt whole with him. I softly tell her as much.

“Then, let my brother have his whore. He’ll realize his mistake later, when it’s much too late and you and the kids are happy with Harry.” Oh God, the kids. They’re at the Burrow with Molly. How am I supposed to face her? The tears flow a bit harder and Draco wraps me in a hug. I guess hell has frozen over. “Mum knows about Harry. Hermione, she is so angry at Ron. You have to remember that Harry is like one of her own too. She only wants everyone to be happy. If that means that you and Harry are happy and Ron has to suffer a bit, so be it.” I feel Ginny’s small hands rubbing my back consolingly.

I chuckle lightly at the idea of Molly sending a howler to Ron. Boy would I love to be a fly on the wall when that one comes. “I’m scared, Gin,” I confess weakly.

She pulls me out of her husband’s arms and wraps her own around me. “I know, Mione. But you have to do this. You have to look at what’s best for you and what’s best for Arthur and Candace. Ron is not giving you what you need. Harry will.” God, I don’t understand this. This is so unreal. How can she be telling me to leave her brother? Would Harry really make me happy? Would he be able to fill in where Ron has been lacking. I know the answer to that. I know that Harry would love me and the kids. I know that he would never hurt me. I know that he would make me happy. Why am I fighting this so much? A divorce is not necessarily a bad thing. If Ron wants Lavender, he can have her.

“Hermione, do you want me to go with you to get the kids from Mum?” Ginny knows that I’m nervous. Molly is not the best witch to piss off. Maybe a little company will help. I nod and she quickly leaves the room to get dressed. Suddenly, Draco is pulling me into another hug.

“I know, that we haven’t been real close, Hermione. But I do want to see you happy, and my brother-in-law is an idiot. You deserve so much better than what he is giving you. I’m not saying to leave him because of Harry. But you need to do what is best for you. Harry may just be the one to pick up the pieces.” Did Draco Malfoy just call him ‘Harry?’ All right, this either a dream, a bad joke or the people in hell are wearing mufflers and overcoats. I look at him disbelieving. He smiles that crooked smile that broke many hearts in Hogwarts. I know he’s right. Maybe.

Ginny came back into the room with Annie in tow. With a quick kiss goodbye to her husband and a pinch of Floo powder she and her daughter were on their way to one of the hardest conversations I’m going to face. I thank Draco and he reassures me with a quick, “It’ll all work out,” and I’m off to face my mother-in-law.

Before I’m even out of the fireplace, Molly has me in a bone-crushing hug. “I’m so sorry, Hermione. Do you want me to send him another howler?” I try to laugh between sobs. Can I do this?

“Mum, let her breathe.” Molly lets me go slightly and guides me to the kitchen table and yet another cup of tea. This time its right. Molly always tried to make it like home for me. I can’t look at her. I can’t breathe, let alone speak. Thank Merlin she starts.

“Hermione, I know that my son is an ass.” Did Molly Weasley just curse? My world is turning upside-down and inside out. I never thought I would hear such a word escape her lips. “You deserve much more than this. I know what he’s been doing. I just didn’t want to see it. I didn’t want to accept it. Last night I saw him go off in a corner with her and almost hexed him right then. I am so sorry, child.” She is still hugging me as I sob into her shoulder. Was I so blind that I couldn’t see Ron’s infidelity? I guess I was.

After a few moments, I was able to calm down and Molly let me go from her embrace. I prayed silently that we were the only ones there. I didn’t want to think about facing the twins or Percy at this moment. I take a deep cleansing breath. This is getting easier, I swear. “Molly, what am I supposed to do?” I ask weakly.

She looks at me lovingly. She has been my mother since my parents were killed during my seventh year. I knew I was just as much hers as Ron and Ginny were. Blood didn’t matter to Molly. And what she said next only proved that. “Leave him. Let him fend for himself and live with his mistakes. Take the kids. You can stay here if you want.” I see a glance between the two redheaded women. “Of course, Harry has room too. He would probably love to have you.”

Oh God, she does know. I guess I didn’t believe Ginny when she said so, but now I do. “Molly, you’re not upset about this? I mean, if I leave Ron, you’d still help me?”

“Oh, Hermione. I love you like my own daughter. You have done nothing wrong. My son is the one who has to come crawling on his hands and knees to beg my forgiveness. I would take you in before I would him. Trust me. You don’t need him. The kids don’t need him. They barely know him. Arthur is nine and barely has seen his father. I think I see the boy more than Ron does. Candace is still so young; she thinks her daddy doesn’t like her. That is no way for a child to feel. They need to be in a loving home. Ron is an imbecile, I’m not sue where I failed with him. He will never give you what you need. You need to do what will help you and your family, and if that means leave him to his own devices, so be it.” I look at Ginny and smile. She hates to admit it, but she is exactly like her mother. They even sound alike.

So, everyone else in the free world thinks I should leave Ron. Am I really strong enough to do that? What about the kids? Ginny seemed to read my mind. Sometimes I think she is telepathic. “Mione, talk to Ron first. Then let the kids know. I will watch them for a couple days if you need me to. They’ve been bugging me to stay with Uncle Draco and me anyway. Why not?”

I thank her and take the last sip of tea in my cup. I can do this. God I wish I could talk to Harry. I need him right now. But that would make it worse, wouldn’t it? I stand up sharply and nod as if to signify that I’ve made my decision. I step into the fireplace and say the name of our home. I always hated the name. He named it. “The Nest.” In a swirl of green flames I am home.

4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

I can never get any sleep when she’s here. It’s not the fact that I am lying here on this lumpy couch, but rather that she is in there lying in my bed. I can’t believe I told her I love her. How bloody stupid am I? Oh gods, she kissed me, and oh, what a kiss that was. I have dreamt of kissing Hermione since I was 16 years old. The dreams did not even come close in comparison to the real thing.

I smile to myself as I think about her soft lips on mine, her taste, the feel of her in my arms. I am even more in love with her than I was six hours ago. What’s making it worse is the fact that I am lying here on my couch staring into the fire thinking of the beautiful woman sleeping not thirty feet away from me. I wonder if she is having the same thoughts as I am.

I let my mind wander to her and my memories of her, just her. I remember back to when I met her on the Hogwarts Express. She was such a bossy, buck-toothed, big-haired know-it-all. But in all honesty, I thought she was pretty even then. When she covered for us when we saved her from the troll, that’s when I knew that we would always be friends. Little did I know, it would last even now, 18 years later.

We’ve been through a lot together. Me, her and him. Why did I let her marry him? I loved her, why was I so stupid to let her go? It’s not going to happen again, not after last night. She kissed me. She’s kissed me before, little pecks on the cheek or forehead, a few on the lips, but always chaste; small and soft. Last night was soft, hard, wet, hungry, passionate, urgent. Merlin knows I almost couldn’t stop myself. I wanted to feel her, love her, worship every inch of her body. If only it was just her and I – minus Ron. What a tangled web we weave.

My mind ventures into more musings of what I want to do with her, to her. Somehow my thoughts take a harsh turn to what I want to do to her bastard of a husband, my best friend. I want to hit him, maim him, rip him to shreds. I want to kill him. He has no right to do what he has done to her.

I won’t even fool with the wand. That would be too easy. I’m not known as ‘The Man Who Defeated Voldemort’ because I talked him into submission. Ron knows not to cross me with a wand. I’d have him hexed before he even had his hand out of his pocket. No, I will confront him bare handed. I know I need to talk to him; find out what happened from his side. But I honestly don’t care anymore. I’ve watched it too long. I can’t take it anymore.

I sit up and look out the window. The sun is up. I’ve been sitting her thinking for at least 4 hours with no sleep. It’s not like I’m going to sleep now, I might as well go talk to the prat. I stand up and cast a few cleansing and freshening charms. I don’t even bother with my hair anymore, what’s the point? I step toward the fireplace casting a quick glance to my bedroom door where she is probably still sleeping. She’ll probably kill me for this, but he needs to learn. I step in and throw a pinch of powder. “The Nest!” and I am suddenly thrown onto the hearthrug of Ron and Hermione’s home.

Ron is sitting on the couch with his head in his hands. He doesn’t look up, but I know he knows I’m there. There’s an empty bottle of fire whiskey on the table and the smell of the room suggests that he drank it all and then some. Not until I sit down in the chair across from him does he lift his head to acknowledge me.

“Harry.”

“Ron.”

“I fucked up didn’t I?”

“That’s the understatement of the year, mate.” Why am I being jovial? I hate him. He’s my best friend, but right now, I hate him.

“How is she?” His eyes are red and bloodshot. His face is pale making his freckles stand out horrendously. He looks terrible.

“She’s fine. Upset, but fine.” Yeah, now that I confessed my undying love for her, she’s bloody perfect; no thanks to you.

“I’m sorry, Harry,” he says weakly.

“I’m not the one who deserves the apology, Ron. You need to tell her the truth. Everything.” He looks up at me with a haunted look in his eye. He knows I know. He knows he can’t lie to me and I press on. “Did you sleep with her?”

His face falls and it seems that the floor has become more interesting than me. His ears are turning red and I take the silence as his answer. “Why, Ron? You had everything you could ever want in the palm of your hand and you throw it away for some tart?”

Oh, I’ve done it. I see the fire in his eyes as he glares at me. C’mon Ron, yell, scream, hit me. C’mon. “She’s not a tart.” His voice is still so hollow that the anger in his eyes isn’t extended to the defense of his mistress.

“It’s Lavender, for gods sake, Ron. Most every man in the wizarding world has had her.” Except for me, but that’s beside the point.

His head falls into his hands again. “She’s gone isn’t she?”

“I don’t know.” I hope that she is to him. I pray that she is.

“Why am I so stupid, Harry?”

I can’t help but chuckle lightly, “Do you really want me to answer that?”

He snorts back and I see a small spark in his eye. “She deserves better than me.” Did I just hear him right? My eyes are probably as big as saucers at his confession.

“Ron…” I start, but don’t know what to say after that. He’s right, I can’t argue. She does deserve better. I am just astounded that he has finally caught on.

“No, Harry. I cheated on her. Not once, not twice, but many times. I’ve lied to her. I’ve lied to my kids. They don’t even see me. I’m so ashamed of myself. I can’t face them. That’s why I don’t come home.” I can see the tears falling. God why do I have to be in the middle of this? “I love her, Harry…” My heart breaks, tears straight in two. “… but I’m not in love with her.” What?!

He must have seen the look of confusion flash across my face. “I loved her more than anything. I don’t know what happened, but one day I woke up and it just wasn’t there anymore. Does that make sense?” I nod absently, not believing what I’m hearing. “I know I shouldn’t have strung her along. I hate myself for it, but I can’t go back. I can’t live like this anymore. I’m in love with Lavender. I have been for a while.”

“How long has this been going on, Ron?” I don’t know if I really want to hear this. I steel myself for a shock.

“Four years.” There’s the shock. I can’t help but let my emotions fly of the handle.

“FOUR YEARS? Jesus, Ron. You have been hurting your family for four fucking years? How could you do this? How could you let it go on this long? I have stood by you and defended you for ten years. I have watched my best friends fight and get back together. I have even urged you to stay together and you’ve been lying for four years? You’re really damn lucky I don’t hit you right now.” I have to stand up. I have to walk around. I am fighting the urge to rip him a new asshole. I can’t believe him. Four bloody years?! I punch the wall. It’s better that than his face. I ignore the pain searing through my hand as I start pacing harshly in front of the fireplace, which suddenly bursts into immense flames. My anger is so high, I know that was me. So does he.

“Do you realize what you have done to her? Do you realize that she doubts her worth, her intelligence, and her appearance?” Ron looks up at me then. His face blanches. I know my eyes are burning at him. I am really struggling to keep my temper down. I want to hurt him so bad. “Ron, she thinks that she did something wrong. Did she?”

He shakes his head. “Does she really blame herself?”

“For fuck’s sake. Why wouldn’t she? Suddenly you’re sleeping around on her and not touching her. What would you think?”

“I am the biggest asshole on the face of the earth.” By jove, I think he’s got it.

“Ron, you need to talk to her. You need to talk to the kids. This can’t happen anymore. She can’t take it anymore. I can’t take it anymore. I have watched her breakdown and come to me. I hold her and console her and she always comes back just for it all to happen again in two weeks. My heart breaks a little more every time. Last night was the last straw.”

His eyes suddenly become clear and he looks at me quizzically. “Harry, you’re in love with her aren’t you?” Oh shit. Oh shit. I can’t deny it. I know he can see it in my eyes.

He smiles at me. I want to kill him and he smiles at me? “Harry, you deserve to be happy too. Is that why you never dated anyone? You always told me that were stuck on someone. I never thought it was Hermione. Why didn’t you say anything?”

How the hell did this get turned around? How the hell did he figure it out? “What was I supposed to say? ‘Hey, Ron, I’m in love with your wife.’ Yeah, that would have gone over real well, wouldn’t it?” I sit down again. I can’t believe that the thickest prat in England caught on to me and my secret. I wasn’t obvious was I? What the hell do I do now?

“Harry, I’m not mad. She is easy to fall in love with. She and I just couldn’t get past the petty arguments. Harry, we have been through a lot together. I know that you probably hate me right now, and you have every reason to. I love her and I love you, you both deserve to be happy. I’m not the one for her. That’s obvious. You’ve always picked her up when she’s down. I know she stayed with you whenever we fought. You’re her best friend. You’re my best friend. I know it may take a while to forgive me. I hope Hermione will forgive me. But this is for the best, right?”

I am waiting for Rod Serling to come in and tell me I’m in the Twilight Zone. You know that muggle show about weird stories? Yeah, I would sneak and watch it over Dudley’s shoulder as a kid. I feel like I’m in one of those shows. I’m waiting for the eerie music. I look dumbly at Ron. What am I supposed to say? I hate him for hurting Hermione, but I am happy because now that I can show her how much she is loved. My mind cannot comprehend the conflicting emotions I have. I still want to punch him, just to make me feel better, and to better justify the pain in my now bruised and swollen hand.

“Ron, talk to her. Be gentle, please. I don’t know if I can handle her breaking down again. Not yet.” I stand facing him, offering him my good hand. He nods and shakes my hand. It may take a while for me to completely forgive him, but I’m not the one that counts. Hermione is. I bite my tongue to keep from blurting out the anger that still wants to come out. I’m not even sure what I’m mad about anymore or what else can be said. I turn to head toward the fireplace, before I can step into it, Ron says my name.

“Harry? Take care of her. She deserves it.” I don’t have to force the smile on my face as I nod and floo back home.

I settle myself in the kitchen with a cup of tea and a bag of ice across my knuckles. My mind is still trying to sort through what just happened. I went to yell at him, degrade him, make him feel guilty. And then he turns it around on me. I know he feels guilty. I know he loves Hermione. But I also know that he wants what’s best for her. I hope I can be that.

5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

I stumble less than gracefully out of the fireplace in my once happy home. I see a shock of red hair pass through the door to the kitchen and I smell the antiseptic scent of cleaning. I always told him it wasn’t clean until it smelled clean. I laugh to myself as I sit on the couch and think.

My home. This is my home, or is it? I see my pictures on the wall. My children smiling back at me. My wedding picture sets on the mantle, a memory of a love now tainted. I love him. I always have, I always will. How can I still love him after all of this? I shake my head to jog myself out of my musing.

I look around the room once more, my eye catching a new hole in the wall next to the fireplace. I look at it quizzically, mentally picturing what, or more likely, who put it there. I am startled out of my musing by a soft voice; a voice that I love.

“Harry,” he says plainly. My eyebrows furrow at him. What does Harry have to do with the hole in the wall? Realization starts to hit as Ron speaks again. “Harry stopped by to talk. He got a bit pissed at me and took it out on the wall.”

I chuckle. I know Harry meant well, but he can’t just fix this one, this between me and Ron. I look at my husband. His eyes are sunken and red. He looks worse than I feel. Good. He needs to suffer a little. I scoot over on the sofa, inviting him to sit beside me. He obliges, but there seems to be a cold wall separating us. I am not sure who put it up, or if it’s been there for a while and I just now noticed it.

He turns to me and grabs my hand. Where there once were sparks and tingles. Nothing. Already, nothing. “I’m sorry,” he whispers almost too softly. I look up and find his blue eyes shiny with tears. I suddenly feel my eyes tear up too. I can’t cry. He can’t see me cry. “I’m sorry, love,” he says a bit louder and I cringe at the endearment.

His fingers come up to lift my chin so I can see the emotion in his eyes. My heart is cold. I don’t want to see his emotion. I want to see his suffering. “I still love you, you know.”

“I know, Ron.” My voice is flat. I cannot let him in. He can’t know how much he has hurt me. I won’t give him the satisfaction.

A few moments of silence pass and I find myself staring off into the garden. I can remember the kids playing out there. I can see Ron teaching Arthur how to fly his broom and Candace how to chase the gnomes off, because she was too little to throw them. I see them laughing, happy. He was such a good father. What happened? He seems to read my mind.

“Hermione? When was the last time you were happy? With me… us?” I continued to stare out the window. We had our happy moments, but honestly I can never remember being truly happy. I thought I was, but looking back, I guess not.

“Honestly, I don’t know.”

“Neither do I.” I look at him now. I see the pain in his eyes. I can feel his heart breaking along side of mine. “When did everything change, Mione?”

I shake my head. I don’t know. It just did. “Ron…”

He stops me with a finger to my lips. “Let me say this, please. I love you. I always have, but somewhere we fell out of love.” I nod dejectedly. “I’m sorry for hurting you. I’m sorry for dragging you around these past few years. I’m sorry for everything. You started out as my best friend, and I still consider you that. I know I don’t deserve it, but I pray that someday you will be able to forgive me.”

His voice is so small, like a child that got caught doing something bad. Well, technically he did. Didn’t he? “Ron, did you sleep with her?” He nods and I feel another bit of my heart break away. “Do you love her?” He nods again. His eyes search mine for reaction. I am numb. I don’t let my face belie anything.

“Hermione, I know we can’t help where the fates aim us. I didn’t intend on falling in love with her. I didn’t seek her out. I swear. But somehow, talking to her at lunch, working with her, we realized that we had a lot in common. I know it was wrong to take it further than that, and I will forever have to live with the fact that I hurt you in the process. I was selfish and didn’t think about you, about my family. I shouldn’t have let it go as long or as far as I did. Honestly, I was somewhat relieved last night when it came out into the open. I hated lying to you and the kids, to everyone. I just kept burying myself further in and couldn’t get out of it. And in the process I dragged you down with me.” Tears were flowing freely from his eyes. Obviously he has had some time to think about all this. I stay silent. I don’t know what to say. I want to pour salt in his wounds and make him hurt like I do… no, did.

“Hermione, if you never want to speak to me again, I understand. I want to be a part of your life and the kids’. I don’t know what I’d do without you as my friend. We’ve been friends since we were eleven. I can’t imagine my life without you in it.”

“It may take a while Ron.” My mouth speaks before I even know it. My tears have dried up. I’m not angry. I’m not sad. I feel betrayed, hurt. But this time, I know I can heal. I guess that’s the first step. I smile at him lightly. “It may not take as long as you think. But give me some time.”

He smiles back at me with that lopsided grin of his. “I just want you to be happy, Hermione. I know that I can’t do that.” I smile at him thinking of how happy I felt last night in Harry’s arms.

“I want you to be happy too, Ron. I’m hurt, yes. But I know that you can’t help who you fall in love with. If you fell in love with Lavender, you can’t change that. I understand.” He looks at me and grins. It’s not that little pleased grin of his. No, this is the ‘I know something’ grin. He reminds me of the twins when he looks like that.

I know my attitude has changed toward this. Why fight the inevitable? Neither one of us has been happy for quite some time, why prolong it? He pulls me into a tearful hug and I let my emotions flow. I love him. I will miss him. But I need to move on. This is the closure that everyone seeks at the end of a relationship. I know that Ron and I will be friends. I’m not real fond of having to include the Hogwarts whore in that, but if she makes him happy. That’s all that matters.

Ron and I sit together talking for some time, like we used to. It felt good. I think, no, I know that it will all work out for the best. We reminisce about school and our family. He tells me a bit about Harry’s visit earlier this morning. I can just picture Harry’s temper flying off the handle at his best friend. I’ve seen his temper at its worst and I don’t envy Ron one bit. I look again at the hole in the wall and smile. Harry.

Ron seems to notice as my mind begins to wander and I enter into my own little world. He follows my gaze and sniggers. “I guess Harry Potter gets everything again,” he says sarcastically. I look at him curiously. “Oh, Hermione. Why do you think he came here this morning? Why do you think he is always there for you when I wasn’t? He loves you and I mean he’s in love with you.” Ron is looking at me, obviously awaiting my shock, but it doesn’t come.

I smile brightly, staring again at the hole. “I know.”

“I was always jealous because he was always the center of everything. He always got what he wanted. Or so I thought. I know, now that I’ve grown up, that he didn’t want any of it. I guess, in a sense I got the one thing he really wanted.” What the hell did he mean by that? I look at him again and see mirth twinkling in his eyes. “You.”

My heart swells at the fact that Harry wanted me. I know he loves me. I know that he didn’t date because of me. I just didn’t realize that it went that far back. My cheeks flush red, I can feel it. I look away and then a thought occurs to me. “Ron, you didn’t use me to make Harry jealous did you?”

He laughs. I’m being serious and now he laughs? “No, Mione. I had no idea until this morning. After he left I started to put the pieces together. The last girlfriend he had was Ginny, six years ago. He barely dated in school. He defended you to all of the girls he did date. He was always there to pick you up when I hurt you. I realized that he probably liked you before I realized that I did. He just didn’t say anything because of you-know-who.”

“Oh, hell, Ron. The man’s been gone for almost eleven years and you still can’t say his name?” I tease him and then what he said sank in. Harry probably liked me before Ron realized that he did. Ron realized that he liked me during sixth year. That means… Oh Hell!

Ron chuckles at me. I guess he could see where my thoughts ended up. I can’t believe this, my husband is telling me that another man is in love with me and has been for over twelve years. Is this really how couples split up? We are famous for our rows. But there was no row. This seemed too easy, too smooth, too… I don’t know. I look at Ron again and eye him closely.

“It seems surreal doesn’t it? Shouldn’t we be hating each other right now? Threatening custody battles and fighting over who gets the house and such?” I shake my head lightly in disbelief.

“How do you always read my mind, Ron?”

“Lot’s of practice, love.” He pulls me into a hug. I sink in deeply. This is goodbye. Goodbye to ‘The Weasleys.’ Goodbye to ‘Ron&Hermione.’ We are now two entities again. Ron and Hermione. I squeeze him tighter for a moment before he lets me go. “We’ll talk to the kids together, all right?” I nod. “Tomorrow?” I nod again. I know that that conversation is going to be a lot harder than the one I just had.

“Go on home.” What? I don’t have a home. My home is this house, that I could care less about living in. I never really liked it anyway. “He’s your home now.” He says softly into my hair as he kisses my forehead.

“Thank you, Ron.”

“For what?”

“Everything,” I say as I get up and head to the fireplace.

“I don’t understand. You’re thanking me for all of it?” I nod. He shakes his head, confused.

“Ron, I would have stayed blind to everything if you would not have done what you did. I’m not trying to make you feel guilty. I’m just thanking you for opening my eyes to all the possibilities.” I wink at him as I step onto the grate and I see realization dawn on his face.

“I love you, Ron.”

As I toss the powder and twist toward Harry’s home, I hear a faint, “I love you too, Mione.”

6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Harry’s house is silent when I arrive. I walk around reliving all the memories I’ve had here. This was Sirius’ home, 12 Grimmauld Place, the former headquarters of the Order. What used to be the 3d’s – dusty, dingy and dark, is now light, airy and homey. I remember the day I walked in here the first time, during the summer before my fifth year. I felt safe for the first time since the Triwizard tournament. I have always felt safe here.

Now that the Order is no longer in need of it, Harry owns it and is free to do as he pleases. The first thing he did was remove the portrait of Mrs. Black. I would too. He has opened all of the connections to the Floo network and removed the anti-apparition wards only to those he welcomes. It is still unplottable. He is Harry Potter, after all, and he couldn’t do with hundreds of screaming admirers beating his door down.

I take a closer look at the pictures Harry has throughout the living room. There is one of the three of us at graduation. We were so young. There’s one from my wedding to Ron where we are dancing with Harry in the background. Hmmm. I never noticed the look on Harry’s face before. He is staring at us with a long of longing, despair. I was so blind then. I guess hindsight’s twenty-twenty, as they say. I see many pictures of redheads, the Weasleys, and a few of Harry’s mum and dad. I am still startled at how much Harry looks like James. I understand now why Sirius, Remus and Snape had such a hard time looking at him.

I wonder where Harry is as I walk toward the kitchen. When I open the door, I find him. My heart jumps to my throat. He is sitting at the table with his head resting in the crook of his arm, asleep. His glasses are askew and are making red marks across his nose. I can’t help but smile. He looks so much like a child when he is sleeping. The wear of the war seems to fade when he closes his eyes. I move toward him carefully as to not awaken him; he probably got about the same amount of sleep that I did. There is an unfinished cup of tea, most likely cold by now, sitting beside his hand, and a bag of melting ice resting upon the other. He never was really good healing charms.

I gently remove the bag and look at the bruises across his knuckles left from his attack on my old wall. I cringe slightly at the dried blood and purple color that has spread across his hand. I cast a simple healing charm and another one to ease the pain. There is no doubt in my mind that it hurts, with how bad it looks. I place a gentle kiss on his temple and go to his room to change clothes and maybe have a bath.

As I walk up the stairs to his room, I absently wonder why he insists on sleeping on the couch when I stay. There are more than enough rooms in this house for me to have my own. Curiosity gets the best of me and I pass by Harry’s room to peer into a couple of the others. I open the door to see that the room has not changed since the war. At least an inch of dust covers everything. If all the rooms are like this one, I can see why he prefers the couch. Harry refuses to keep a house elf and I wonder if it has anything to do with my work in S.P.E.W. I smile. A few cleaning charms and a bit of paint would do to make it livable. I guess Harry has never really had a reason to so. Maybe he likes it this way.

I frown slightly at how lonely Harry must be. He lives in this house all by himself with all his memories. I choke down a sob at all that Harry has had to deal with throughout his life. At one year old he lost his parents; at fourteen, he watched Cedric die; at fifteen, Sirius; at nineteen, he lost Hagrid; at twenty-one, during the last battle, he lost Dumbledore. Now at thirty, he has overcome his past, or has he? Why does he keep the house empty, the unused rooms neglected? I idly ponder these things as I get some clean clothes and head toward the bath.

I fill the tub with hot water and some freesia oil. To hell if I’m going to use any lavender. I pulled my hair up into a sloppy ponytail and eased myself into the water surrounding me. I lay back and let all the tension flow from my body. I think over what has happened over the past two days. Dancing with Harry. Fighting with Ron. Kissing Harry. My thoughts decide to linger a few moments on that last one.

I feel a warmth spread through my body as I remembered how Harry’s arms felt around me and his lips pressed to mine. I would have lost all self-control if he had tried anything more. I wanted to lose control. I haven’t been touched that way in six months. I don’t know when Harry was with a woman last, but I am assuming that it would have been Ginny. So, that would make it six years. I grin devilishly at the thought of breaking his term of celibacy. I pray that I am not being foolish about him. He said he loves me. I love him. I can’t deny that. I want him; that is obvious.

The warmth in my center is radiating to every erogenous zone in my body. I have become a master at self-pleasure and am not ashamed of it at all. I run my hands gently over my abdomen up to my sensitive breasts. My nipples hardened immediately. I gently pull on them, making them ache and I can’t help but fondle my breasts. I moan low in my throat as I imagine my hands to be Harry’s.

One hand trails downward under the water to caress the downy curls covering my sex. A finger grazes my nub and I moan loudly. I catch myself and grab my wand to cast a silencing charm. It’s been a while and I know I won’t be able to keep my mouth shut. I can picture Harry sitting at the edge of the tub, taking over where my hands have paused. A finger is inserted into my core and my hips start to rock against his hand. Another finger and I start to lose control. With one hand massaging my breast and the other delving deep into my sex, I come violently. My hips buck and my head is thrown back calling Harry’s name. I gently rub my pussy to extend the pleasure of my orgasm and eventually fall into a relaxed bliss.

Before I can fall asleep in the water, I wash myself and then step out of the tub. As I wrap a towel around me, I notice that the bathroom door is ajar. Oh bloody hell!

*

I wake up at the kitchen table, my hand healed and my tea ice cold. I look around to see… nothing. I distinctly remember putting ice on my hand, now the ice is gone, along with the blood and bruises. Hermione. She must have returned and being the talented witch she is, healed me. I shake my hand waiting for the pain, but none comes. I smile at the thought of her coming in here, seeing me asleep, healing my hand and kissing my cheek. My hand grazes over my cheek and temple. I had a dream that she did kiss me, right at my hairline over my temple. Did she really do it? No, I shake my head to clear the fog from sleep.

I really need to talk to her about last night. I confessed my love to her and she kissed me. I wanted to do so much more than that. Hmmm. I chide my mind for wandering there, because my lower half is now awake and raring to go. I don’t want to rush her, but I want to make love to her, show her what love can be like. She had mentioned that it had been six months since Ron even tried anything. It’s been six years for me. Ginny was my last. We had broken up because both of our hearts belonged to other people. Mine to Hermione and hers to Draco. She got her dream. I pray that I can have mine.

I get up and dump my tea in the sink. Suddenly, I hear water running upstairs. Oh no, Potter, don’t even think it. My mind is yelling at me as my body follows its own will and starts treading up the stairs. I stand outside the bathroom door for a moment. I thought I heard something. Something that sounded distinctively like a moan. No, she can’t be. Suddenly the room is silent. I can feel the subtle magic of the charm she must have cast. Silencing charm. Damn.

My mind is yelling at me to walk away and go to my room, but my testosterone-driven lower body is protesting. I open the door slowly and find the most erotic sight I have ever seen. There is Hermione, her hair pulled up haphazardly, with one hand pinching a nipple and the other… Oh my god. My ears strain to hear her, but the charm prevents it. I whisper a ‘finite incantatum,’ and I immediately take in the sound of her breathy moans. Her hips are moving along with her hand and the water is rolling close to the edge of the tub. I see her body tense and her head thrown back. Did I just hear what I thought I heard? Did she just say my name in the throes of her self-induced passion?

I want to walk in there and take her in the tub. To make sweet love to her for the rest of the day in the tub, on the couch, my bed, anywhere and everywhere that I can think of. Hearing my name escape her lips made a fire burn straight to my erection, making it harder than I have ever felt it before. Gods, she is beautiful. It looks like she’s going to fall sleep. I will let her sleep, no matter how much my hormones protest. She’s been through a lot. I don’t want to add to that any more than I already have.

I start to walk away from the door, go back to my room and try to relieve the sudden tension in my pants. As I turn, I see her naked form emerge from the tub. She is perfect. No dream I could ever have could compare to the real her. My erection is now getting painful at the sight before me. I try to make it to my bedroom as quietly as possible. There is nowhere I can go to relieve this. Damn. I can’t just walk over to the bathroom, knock, ask to use the loo and expect her not to notice it.

I grit my teeth and bite the bullet. I open the door, step out into the hall and abrubtly find myself sprawled out on the floor, on top of a towel-wrapped Hermione. Oh Dear Gods! Before I can even think, my lips are on hers, kissing her fiercely and she is returning with just as much fervor. I don’t want to rush into anything. This is not good, not good at all. I know she can feel my manhood against her hip. Fuck! Forget it! Screw it! I don’t care anymore. I love her and I think she loves me. If this is wrong, let me burn in hell.

7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Oh God she feels so good. I am kissing Hermione. She is lying underneath me, in the middle of my hallway, and I am losing control. Oh, how did I let it get this far? I can’t stop. I don’t want to. The little mewling sounds coming from her aren’t helping my resolve much either. And her hands keep doing these amazing things to my skin. I am on fire. I am alive for what seems like the second time in my life, last night’s kiss being the first.

Her skin is so soft and smooth under my hands. Her lips are supple and intoxicating. I could kiss her for the rest of my life. I could get lost in her – the feel of her hands under my shirt on my skin, the taste of her lips and skin as I kiss her face, neck, shoulders… Gods I want to kiss every inch of her body. I can feel her breasts pressing against my chest through the terrycloth of her towel and I have to strain not to rip it off of her. I want to feel her, taste her, smell her.

God, I love her smell. I nuzzle her ear and inhale that delicious scent of flowers and spice - the same scent that lingers on my pillow on those mornings after she sleeps in my bed. When she and Ron are fighting. Ron. Oh shit. What am I doing?

I jump off of her and try to collect my thoughts. I can’t be doing this. She’s still married to Ron, albeit not for much longer, but still. I can’t look at her. I can’t see the look of confusion or disappointment or whatever she is feeling right now. My heart is breaking as I turn and walk solemnly into my room. I hear her enter as I sit on my bed and put my head in my hands.

“Harry?” Her voice sounds so soft, so torn.

“Oh, God, I’m sorry Hermione.” I can feel the tears burning my eyes. I want so badly to hold her and continue kissing her, but I can’t. Not yet.

I feel the bed shift as she sits beside me and takes my hand. Her hand is so small compared to mine - so fragile, even though, they sure weren’t fragile a second ago. How can such small, soft hands create such a fire on one’s skin? I feel her breath against my shoulder and she kisses it lightly before laying her head on it. “Please, don’t apologize, Harry.”

“Hermione…” What do I say? What am I apologizing for? “I shouldn’t have taken advantage you like that.”

“Taken advantage? Harry, are you serious?” She pulls away slightly and turns my head to look at her. “You were not taking advantage of me, Harry. If you were, would I have responded as I did?”

“But Hermione… Ron.” I look at her like it is the most obvious reason in the world for us to stop.

“What about him?”

I can’t believe she is this dense. “You are married to him. I can’t do this. Not yet.”

“Harry.” I love the way my name sounds coming from her lips. “Ron and I are over. He is probably with Lavender as we speak.”

I shake my head. She doesn’t understand. I will not sully her name. I will not let her sink to Ron’s level. I grasp her left hand and roll the gold band there around her finger. I look at her hoping she understands what I am trying to say. Her eyes meet mine and I am absorbed into them. She is hypnotizing. I shake my head to clear my mind and look back down at the ring between my fingers. “See, you’re still married to him. I will not let you soil that. I know that he already did, but you are not him, and neither am I. I respect the meaning behind this band, and will not do anything to betray the vows you took. Hermione, I love you. I want you… more than anything. But I will wait. I have waited for thirteen years, I can wait until the divorce is final.”

She smiles and chuckles slightly. “Harry, you are so cute.” Cute!? I’m CUTE!? What the hell is that supposed to mean? She grasps my face between her hands and looks deeply into my eyes. I am lost. “This is why I love you. You respect the things that matter. You respect me.” She kisses me again, lightly this time, but it is still powerful. I melt into her arms. I could hold her forever. Then I realize what she said.

“Hermione… you love me?”

“Yes, Harry. I love you. I have for a very long time, but you kept yourself distant for so long. By the time you would let me love you, it was too late, I was married to Ron.” Her voice is the same as it was at Hogwarts when I would ask her a stupid question. I guess it was a stupid question wasn’t it?

“What do we do now?” Yet another stupid question.

She shrugs, smiles and stands up. I watch her lovely form walk away from me to pick up the clothes that she dropped in the hall when I knocked her over. She walks back into the room. With the light from the hall illuminating her from behind, she looks like an angel – an angel in a towel. I blush at the vision I saw as she stepped out of the tub. I know what that towel hides. I must be smirking devilishly at that thought, because she stops and looks at me quizzically.

“Harry, what are you thinking about?” I blush a deeper red. Does she know that I saw her in the tub?

“N-Nothing,” I answer sheepishly. She shakes her head in acquiescence, turns around and drops her towel. I am graced with the beauty of her backside naked in front of me. My trousers again become tighter and I growl in frustration, before I even realize it. “Gods woman! Are you trying to kill me?”

She laughs lightly as she looks over her shoulder at me as I throw myself backward on the bed, covering my eyes with my arm. Why is she doing this to me? Torture, that’s what it is. Pure Torture.

“Oh, Harry stop. It’s not like you haven’t seen it before,” I sit up and look at her. She knows. She is mostly dressed already. She turns to me as she buttons the rest of her top. “Did you enjoy the show?” I know my eyes have got to be popping out of my head. She caught me, but she’s not mad. “I take that as a yes,” she whispers seductively in my ear. I try to reach for her, but she’s already to the door before I come out of my hormonal stupor enough for my arms to function. How does she do that?

I sit there on my bed and think. I daydream of what it would be like once I am free to love her. I can see us sitting in front of the fireplace cuddling together with a book. Yes, I actually like to read. When you have Hermione as a best friend, you end up actually liking to read, at least after you’re out of school. I think that’s what kept me sane for so long as I secretly pined after her. With a book in my hand, I felt closer to her somehow. I wonder what she would think about that revelation.

I go back to my daydreaming and reminisce about a few moments ago when she was in my arms, underneath me, caressing me. I sigh deeply at this train of thought. Oh, to be able to make love to her. I want to show her how a woman should be loved. I want to show her how much I love her. I am brought back to the real world when she pops her head back into the room.

“Oi, Harry, are you all right?” I nod dumbly. “Well, I need to go get some things from the house, that I forgot. I will be back in a minute.” She starts out the door, but I stop her.

“Hermione?”

“Yes, Harry?”

“Would you have dinner with me tonight?” My voice is shaky and breaks. I feel like I’m going through puberty again.

“Are you asking me on a date, Mr. Potter?” An inquisitive eyebrow shoots up above her brown eyes.

“Yes, I am Ms. Weasley.”

“Granger.” She smiles brightly at me.

“Yes, I am Ms. Granger.” I smile back.

“I would love to Harry.” With a wink she is gone, and I am left giddy as a schoolboy. I am going on a date with Hermione. I love her and she loves me. I lie back on the bed and lose myself in my thoughts again. Tonight, I will give her the night of her life. After a few minutes I get up and apparate to Diagon Alley for all the essentials – flowers, reservations, wine. Nothing is too good for Hermione.

*

The house is empty. Quiet. I take a good look around one last time at my ‘home.’ Ron bought this house for our first wedding anniversary. I liked it mainly because it meant that we were moving out of the Burrow. I was pregnant with Arthur then. I remember Ron, Harry and the twins moving all the furniture in by muggle means. I was put on bed rest and excessive amounts of magic around me were not a good thing. I laughed so hard at them trying to figure out how to get the sofa in through the front door. It was like watching the ‘Three Stooges’ plus one. Harry always stood out. He was the odd ball, the short one, the dark haired one. He was just Harry.

I smile as I venture into my room to gather my belongings. A quick wave of my wand and all my things are packed into a box and shrunk down to fit in my pocket. I look around at the room Ron and I shared. This was my sanctuary, along with the study downstairs, but this is where I could just be me. I would curl up with the kids in here and read to them. They would come in if they had a bad dream or if Ron didn’t come home, so that I didn’t feel lonely.

I need to figure out how we are going to tell the kids. I hope that they will take it well. Arthur has a temper like Ron and Ginny put together, so it might get messy. As long as we are straightforward with them, they’ll understand. Won’t they?

As I start down the steps to leave, I hear the front door open. I look and see Ron walking in with a piece of parchment in his hand. He jumps when he sees me. “Oh, Mione. I didn’t know you were here.”

“I was just getting a few things.” His eyes drop to the floor.

“I’m sorry again, Hermione.”

I step up to him and wrap my arms around him. “Ron, it’s better this way.”

He nods and looks at me. “I guess you’re right.” He looks down at the parchment in his hand and then gives it to me. I look at him curiously. “It’s the papers.”

“Oh.” I say as I quickly read them over. One of the benefits of a wizard divorce is that there is no waiting game. The papers are signed and filed, then its done. That’s it. Ron has given me full custody of the children with visitation rights for him every other weekend. I’ll probably let him see them more than that, if he wishes. He keeps the house. I have no problem with that, like I said before, I never really liked it. He is offering monetary support for the children and me. I look at him confused.

“I know that money doesn’t matter, but I just figured you could put it in an account so that Hogwarts is paid for.” I smile at him and continue reading the document.

“Everything looks all right.” I say sheepishly. “Ron, are you all right?” His face is pale and he is very solemn and quiet.

“It’s just weird. I won’t ever wake up next to you again. I won’t come home and find you in the kitchen cooking, singing at the top of your lungs. I won’t have you nagging me about the toilet paper rolls.” He looks up at me and I see small tears struggling to escape his blue eyes. “I’ll miss you Hermione.”

“Oh, Ron.” I can’t help the tears trailing down my own cheeks. “I’ll miss you too, but like we said before – we’re best friends, we always will be. Right?”

He nods as he hands me a quill. I quickly sign my name. This is painful. I was so ready for this, why does it still hurt so bad? I watch as Ron signs his name in his distinct scrawl. A moment later the signatures glow red and the parchment disappears, along with the gold bands on my left ring fingers. This is just too surreal.

Ron looks at me lovingly and kisses me softly on the lips. “I love you, Mione. I’m sorry.”

“I love you too, Ron. I’m sorry too.”

The look of confusion on his face is classic. If it were any other situation I would probably be laughing my rear off. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t make you happy.”

He looked shocked, “Hermione…” I hush him with a small chaste kiss.

“Ron, let’s not linger on ‘what if’s and ‘what was’s. We just weren’t right for each other. I don’t regret it at all. You gave me two beautiful children. We just couldn’t make it beyond friends.”

“How do you always make everything sound logical?”

I smiled at him and hugged him tightly. “You wouldn’t have me any other way.”

He laughed. It was the first smile I had seen since he walked back in the house. I always loved his smile. I give him another kiss, this time on the cheek. “Goodbye, Ron.”

“Bye, Mione.” He kissed me back and with a pop I disapparated back to 12 Grimmauld Place and Harry. I won’t let him know yet. Lets see if he notices tonight at dinner that my ring is missing. I can’t wait until tonight. I hope we can finish what we started in the hallway. My mind wanders to all the dirty things I want to do to him.

A large part of me is excited about the idea of me and Harry but there is this little lingering feeling that I am betraying Ron in some way. I guess that is normal if you have any kind of conscience. I just have to get over it and tonight’s dinner with Harry is just the first step.

8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

When I apparated into the living room of Harry’s flat I noticed that it was dark, lit only by one candle sitting next to a vase on the piano in the corner. I walked over to the candle and smelled the beautiful rose in the vase. I smiled, I couldn’t help it. As I inhaled the heady aroma of the rose, I noticed a note underneath the vase. I immediately recognized Harry’s untidy scrawl.

Follow the petals.

What? Petals? I looked down and saw a trail of rose petals going from where I was standing, across the living room and up the stairs. The smile on my face would not fade. I don’t think I would have been able to suppress that smile, if I tried.

My mind was flooded with all the possible scenarios that Harry might have concocted. I started to follow the trail and my heart beat faster with every step. Would Harry be up there waiting for me? I started to walk faster as I reached the stairs. The smell of roses was growing stronger as I ascended. What did Harry do? I take the stairs two at a time, my heart pounding out of my chest.

Where I thought the trail would go left at the top of the stairs toward Harry’s room, it went right. There was nothing down at this end of the hall. Was there? The petals turned into the second door and my heart was up in my throat. This was my room when we all stayed here with the Order. Again, I ask myself, what did Harry do?

I slowly open the door, not knowing what to expect and am overwhelmed when I take in the vision before me. The walls were no longer the dingy gray they were all those years ago, but a warm cream color with gold accents. The large four-poster bed was adorned with ivory sheer curtains and homey gold and cream quilt. On top of the large dresser is a beautiful vase filled with more roses. I can’t tell how many there are, my heart is beating so hard in my chest that I can’t concentrate enough to count them.

I look closer at the flowers and see that there is another note on the dresser. I open the envelope and see Harry’s distinctive handwriting again.

Mione –

I hope you like your room, if you want it. It is yours whether it is only when you need a place to get away, or if you want to stay here with me everyday. We can discuss that later.

I will pick you up at six o’clock for dinner. Please, meet me downstairs.

I will see you this evening.

Love, Harry

P.S. – There is a surprise in the closet. When I saw it, I knew you would look beautiful in it. Please wear it tonight.

I put the parchment down and opened the closet door. If I thought I couldn’t think before, I was clearly brainless at this moment. In the closet was hanging the most beautiful dress I had ever seen. I took it out and laid it on the bed. The crimson fabric was smooth and soft. Silk. It flowed over itself in shimmering waves. It was long, almost ankle-length, with spaghetti straps. I checked the size. Why did I even bother? Of course, Harry got the right size. Ron never knew what size I wore. I shake my head, amazed at the little things that Harry knows and remembers.

I sit on the bed and sink into the soft mattress with the dress lying over my lap. Tears are prickling at the back of my eyes. Why? I am not sad, not by a long shot. I am overwhelmed with love for my best friend. I never knew he felt this way toward me. I never expected him to spoil me from the start. That’s what he does when he loves someone. He spoils them; not only in material gifts, but also in affection and joy.

My tears are falling freely. I have never felt so loved, so worshipped. Ron had given me things before, but never as exquisite as this, nor with such presentation. I can’t believe Harry did this, not only the dress, but also the room. He gave me a room. My room. I hugged the dress to my chest trying to contain the sobs of my crying. I have never cried out of happiness like this. My heart is overflowing just as my tears are.

I find myself lying on the bed still hugging the dress. I am not sure how much time has passed. I must have fallen asleep. I look over at the nightstand at the clock. 5:30. I have a half hour to get ready. Good thing I’m a witch, huh?

I pull the small box from my old house out of my pocket and enlarge it. I pull out my toiletries and start to make myself beautiful. I undress and cast a quick cleansing charm, seeing as I already had a bath this morning. I rifle through my trunk for some undergarments. I have nothing that would do for an occasion like this.

I realize that with this dress, I have to go braless, which can be hard sometimes when you are as endowed as myself. I am not overly large, but I am above average in the breast department. A naughty thought comes to mind and I look at myself in the mirror. I admire the subtle curves that I was blessed with. I am not petite, not after two kids. I am proportionate. My hips are wide, but not too wide. I laugh at what I am about to do. I slip the dress over my body. That’s right, no knickers. I know, it probably says that I am expecting something to happen tonight. Well, I am.

I want to shock him. Knock his socks off. The silk glides over my body and I shiver in anticipation. I check my reflection again. My hair is as good as the bushy tangle will get. I pulled it up off my neck and piled the mass of curls on top with a few tendrils framing my face. A little bit of eyeshadow, subtle; mascara, light; lipstick, barely there. I looked good. The dress made the look though. Harry has wonderful taste, and he was right, it did look beautiful on me. It was slinky enough to hug my curves, but light enough that it didn’t over-accentuate them. I twirled around and watched as the fabric flowed around my legs. I have never been one to be very confident in myself, but looking in the mirror and seeing myself happy and glowing, I knew I looked good. If Harry’s eyes don’t pop out of his head, I would be totally surprised.

*

When I returned from my quick trip to Daigon Alley, Hermione had not returned yet. I knew I had to work fast. I separated the roses and put one in the vase on the piano and took the rest up to my room upstairs. My room. No, I need to open up her room. I have kept her room up for the past few years. She has never seen it. It’s time she does.

I turn around and go down the hall to her room. She and Ginny used to stay in here during the summers and this was her room during those two years of fighting along side of the Order. After the war was over and she married Ron I had let the room fall into disarray. I didn’t want to be reminded that she once slept in that bed. Later when she and Ron had started fighting and she would come stay with me, I fixed it up so she would have a place to sleep. After the first few times she slept in my bed, I realized I didn’t want her to sleep anywhere else. I wanted to smell her scent on my pillow. I wanted to know that she had slept in my bed, even though I slept on the couch.

I placed 19 roses in the large vase on the dresser. 19 roses, one for each year we have been friends. There are 7 yellow, 10 pink and 2 red; each color signifying a different time in our lives. The yellow are for our years at Hogwarts, the pink for the time she was married to Ron and could not be mine, and the red for the two years in between when we were fighting Voldemort; the time I wished I had told her how much I loved her.

I summoned the bag from Galdrags from downstairs. I pulled the red dress out and hung it in the closet. I could just picture her in this dress, dancing with me, kissing me, the dress falling into a puddle on the floor. No, I can’t think about that, not yet. I let my fingers linger on the silk for a few moments, imagining the feel of her underneath the fabric, my hands running over the delicate lines of the dress. I shake my head trying to recover. I didn’t have time for this. She could be back any moment.

I pull some parchment from the bureau drawer and write a quick note telling her when I would pick her up for dinner this evening. I pulled anther piece out to write a small to instruct her to come up to this room. How do I say this? Go to your old room. No. I wanted it to be a surprise, something special. I look around the room for any kind of inspiration and the roses catch my eye. That’s it. I scribble three words on the paper and put it in my pocket. With a flick of my wand I have duplicated the petals of the roses and they are sitting haphazardly over my lap and around me on the floor.

Wingardium Leviosa. The petals all are floating about knee high and I suddenly laugh. That was the first charm we ever learned. Hermione would appreciate that I remember this particular one. I start to walk down the hall, letting the petals fall along the way. I go down the stairs, across the living over to the piano. Many of the petals have pooled at my feet as I release the charm. I place the note underneath the vase and look around the room. Something’s missing. This is good, but I want it romantic. I want it beautiful. I conjure a candle and set it on top of the piano, beside the vase. Enflamare. Perfect. I quickly run back upstairs to collect my things for this evening and disapparate to my office at the Ministry. I want her to feel like this is a real date. I want to pick her up. Woo her. I hope this works.

After a while of catching up on some paperwork, I can’t concentrate anymore. I can’t get the picture of Hermione out of my mind. I look at the clock. I have just over thirty minutes before I need to be back at my flat. I change into my black slacks and gray shirt. I debate over a tie. I am taking her into Muggle London tonight. Maybe I will wear a tie for dinner but not afterwards.

After I run a comb half-heartedly through my hair, not like it helps, I start to feel the flapping of Hippogriffs in my gut. I am so nervous. I feel like I’m fourteen again, trying to get the nerve up to ask Cho to the Yule Ball. But this isn’t Cho. This is Hermione, my best friend; the woman I am madly in love with. Why am I so nervous? My mind fights with me as I apparate back to my flat. The candle is still burning on the piano and I can hear some rustling in the hall above me. I move over to the piano and bring the rose in the vase to my nose. I inhale the heady aroma and lose myself for a moment in the smell.

My thoughts are interrupted as I hear footsteps descending the stairs. I look over and what I see takes my breath away. Hermione is standing on the bottom step looking nervously at me. She looks almost as nervous as I feel. She is beautiful. The dress fits her perfectly and I have never seen her look so breathtaking. She smiles at me and my heart threatens to beat out of my chest. She starts to step down and come toward me. My mind decides to come back from its temporary vacation and I meet her just as she steps off of the stair. I extend my hand and she takes it. Sparks ignite in my fingers at her touch and my blood flows hotter with every heartbeat.

“Milady,” I whisper and bow my head slightly.

She giggles and kisses my cheek causing my face to heat up. I know I am blushing and I turn to hide from her eyes. Why am I acting like shy teenager? I am thirty years old. This is not a blind date. This is my best friend. She knows me and loves me for me. I turn back to her and smile before raising a hand to her cheek.

“You look beautiful, Mione,” I say just before covering her lips in a chaste kiss.

Now she is blushing. I feel a little better now. “Thank you, Harry. For all of it.”

I smile again. I can’t help it. “If you like all of that, just wait until you see what I have planned for you this evening.” I waggle my eyebrows suggestively, making even myself wonder what exactly I have planned for this evening. Her eyes sparkle brightly as she squeezes my hand. I hadn’t even noticed that we were still holding hands. I realize suddenly that we have been standing here staring at each other for well over five minutes, and are very close to being late for our reservation.

“Shall we?” I can’t help but look in her eyes and see that my anticipation is mirrored in them. She is still very quiet and it is very disconcerting. “Hermione?”

She shakes her head slightly. “Oh, sorry Harry.”

“Are you all right, love?”

“Yes, Harry. I am fine. I-I just… you look wonderful Harry.” She is blushing again and I can hear that her breathing is erratic, labored somewhat. I take her face gently in my hands and lean forward slightly, dipping my head. I want to kiss her, to taste her, but am hesitant. I want this date to last longer than ten minutes and if I kiss her, I don’t know if I would be able to handle it, or myself.

I am brought out of my thoughts as she leaned up and pressed her lips to mine. Very quickly the kiss deepens and I pull her closer to me. My skin is tingling. My heart is racing and I never want to let her go. Somewhere in the back of my mind, an alarm is going off. Not a bad alarm, but more like an alarm clock. Damn, we’re going to be late. I reluctantly pull away from her and chuckle at the sound of disappointment that escapes her lips.

“I have no problem, staying here and kissing you all night, but I have a wonderful evening planned. If we don’t leave now, we will lose our table.”

“I’m sorry Harry,” she says sheepishly and looks down at her feet. I follow her gaze and notice that her shoes are nothing more than a few straps on heels. Her toenails are painted the same color as the dress. I smile brightly, collect myself and bring a finger under her chin for her to look at me.

“Don’t ever apologize for kissing me. I just don’t think that Searcy’s would like us to be late for our reservation.”

“Searcy’s? Oh, Harry, that’s my favorite!” Her eyes were sparkling excitedly and the smile on her face was beautiful.

I kissed her lightly on the lips again and whispered, “I know.” In the blink of an eye, I grasped her hand tightly and apparated us both to an alley close to the restaurant. The look on her face shows me just how special this night is going to be.

9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

I am watching her as she talks animatedly to the waiter. I don’t remember what I ordered or even getting to the table. I am so entranced by her, that I can think of nothing else. She is beautiful in the red dress I bought her. She looks better than I pictured. She has a kind of glow to her tonight. Her smile seems brighter. Her eyes are sparkling more. Her skin is literally glowing against the red fabric sheath. My God, I can’t believe she is here, with me. I have dreamt of this for so long. Now we are sitting in her favorite restaurant at a cozy little corner table, and I have no idea what I am eating.

Whatever it is that I ordered when I blindly pointed to the menu, my eyes never leaving my companion, is actually quite good; a bit tangier than my taste, but not bad. I look up at Hermione and she is smiling at me, again. I don’t think I will ever get sick of seeing her smile. I smile back at her and realize that she is talking to me.

“Harry?”

“Yes, love.”

“Are you all right?” I nod dumbly and take another bite of whatever this is. “Are you sure?”

I nod again. “Why would you think otherwise?”

She shakes her head causing a few more curls to fall down around her beautiful face. “You just seem like you are in your own little world.”

I can tell she is not upset just concerned. How do I tell her that her beauty has me confounded so much that I can barely stand up on my own? I reach across the table for her hand. “I am sorry, Hermione. This is going to sound cliché, but I can’t take my eyes off you. You look radiant tonight. You have completely entranced me.” I laugh lightly and look down at my plate. “I don’t even know what I’m eating.”

She squeezes my hand and laughs back. “I’m not sure if you really want to know what you’re eating, Harry.” There is a look in her eye that is daring me to ask, but yet a glimmer that says she is pulling my leg. I shake my head at her as I take another bite.

“Whatever it is, it’s good.” There’s that smile again. My fingers start to rub over the top of her hand, along her knuckles. She smiles bigger. Am I missing something? Her hands are so soft, I can feel every tiny wrinkle, every goose bump. As I run along finger by finger, I notice that she isn’t wearing any jewelry. After a few moments I bring her delicate hand to my lips and kiss it lightly. She is looking at me strangely now. Her eyes keep darting from her hand to my face. Yet again, am I missing something?

Suddenly, its like a blast-ended skrewt exploded in my brain. She isn’t wearing any jewelry. I am holding her left hand. She isn’t wearing any jewelry. That means her wedding ring… she’s not wearing it. I don’t say anything. I think the dumbfounded expression on my face says it all.

“When I went home to get my things, Ron had the papers. It’s done. I am Ms. Hermione Granger once again.” I can’t help but smile at her. My heart races so fast I think it’s going to burst out of my chest. I didn’t understand how this could happen so fast, but why should I argue? The love of my life is free and she is holding my hand. Her wedding-ring free hand is holding mine.

Before I realize I’m talking, I ask what my mind was trying to contemplate a moment ago. “How? It seems a bit fast.” Her face falls slightly. Oh no. Remove foot from mouth. “No, I didn’t mean it that way. I was just expecting it to take a few months.” She lets out a sigh of… relief?

“Harry, divorces for us are immediate. Each party signs, the ministry verifies it through magic and *poof* it’s done.” I never knew it was so easy. I guess since every wizarding marriage certificate is bound by magic, it knows who is who and your heart can’t lie. So, if the feelings are no longer there, and you sign the papers, it’s a matter of seconds. In the back of my mind, I wish she would have told me this before. I am even more nervous now than I was. I now know that I can leave right now, take her home and make love to her, and not think twice. My body starts to respond to that idea and I shift uncomfortably in my seat.

The rest of dinner goes by in a hormone-induced blur. I thought I was oblivious to the situation before… that was nothing compared to this. All I can see is Hermione, which isn’t a bad thing. But my mind keeps removing the dress and I am faced with a most delectable image. I have to close my eyes and shake my head many times to keep my mind on reality. But reality is… that is exactly what she looks like under that dress.

Finally, we finished our meal and I guided her along the street to a building. This is not a normal building. This is a wizarding establishment that only a few muggles know about. Hermione, obviously has never been here. Her eyes are like saucers as she looks up at the Romanesque ceiling and pillars. The architecture is beautiful, but it is there only to enhance the full experience that is the ‘Fantasia Incantado.’ I have made a reservation in the ballroom. The whole setting is out of my imagination. I chose the music. I chose the style. I chose everything. The owner owed me a favor and I called it in. I wanted a place where I could dance with Hermione, without reporters, without the loud noise and crowds. I hope she likes it.

She follows me to the lift, which takes us up to the fourth floor. She gasps when the lift doors open and we are in the middle of a beautiful ballroom. It is comparable to something I would only relate to where Mozart or Bach would play. As I guide her in the room, music starts. Moonlight Sonata one of her favorites. I pull her to me and start swaying to the music.

I am reminded of the night all of this started, when I danced with her at my birthday party. She feels so good in my arms. We dance together, just us. There is no one else in the world at that moment and it feels good. Song after song plays. I have chosen a mix of ballads and classical music, all songs that hold some meaning for her, me or the way we feel for each other.

At the far end of the ballroom is a bar, I offer her a drink and pour each of us a glass of champagne. “To us.” I offer. She smiles and wraps her arm around mine. My heart skips a beat as we drink from our entwined arms. Another song starts and I take her back into my arms. The first time I had heard this song, I thought of Hermione and I. It says so much that I don’t think I would ever be able to express.

If you’re not the one then why does my soul feel glad today?

If you’re not the one then why does my hand fit yours this way?

If you are not mine then why does your heart return my call?

If you are not mine would I have the strength to stand at all

Hermione is looking at me as she listens to the words of the song. I can see small tears welling up
in her eyes and I lean down to kiss them away. I pull her closer to me and whisper in her hair, “I
love you, Mione.”

He soft voice returns my words of love. I can feel her fingers running softly over the back of my
neck and shivers are running up and down my spine. I hold onto her tighter to keep myself
standing upright. I think she is doing the same to me. If we were to let go of each other right now,
I bet anything that we would both fall into boneless heaps on the floor.

I never know what the future brings

But I know you are here with me now

We’ll make it through

And I hope you are the one I share my life with

I don’t want to run away but I can’t take it, I don’t understand

If I’m not made for you then why does my heart tell me that I am?

Is there any way that I can stay in your arms?

“Harry?” she whispers. I look down into her brown eyes that are now flowing freely with tears.
“Is this how you felt?” I nod silently and then lean down to kiss her lightly. She pulls me tighter
to her and I am lost. I want to hold her forever.

If I don’t need you then why am I crying on my bed?

If I don’t need you then why does your name resound in my head?

If you’re not for me then why does this distance maim my life?

If you’re not for me then why do I dream of you as my wife?

I don’t know why you’re so far away

But I know that this much is true

We’ll make it through

And I hope you are the one I share my life with

And I wish that you could be the one I die with

And I pray in you’re the one I build my home with

I hope I love you all my life

I don’t want to run away but I can’t take it, I don’t understand

If I’m not made for you then why does my heart tell me that I am

Is there any way that I can stay in your arms?

By now I know that I am crying along with her. I can’t help it. There were so many nights were I
would lay in my bed an wish that she were with me. I don’t want this moment to end. I want her
with me everyday. At that instant, I make a decision that I have been debating since the afternoon.
I will ask her to stay with me – to live with me.

‘Cause I miss you, body and soul so strong that it takes my breath away

And I breathe you into my heart and pray for the strength to stand today

’Cause I love you, whether it’s wrong or right

And though I can’t be with you tonight

And know my heart is by your side

I don’t want to run away but I can’t take it, I don’t understand

If I’m not made for you then why does my heart tell me that I am

Is there any way that I can stay in your arms?

Hermione stopped moving and I looked down at her quizzically. “I never knew,” she whispered into my chest.

“You couldn’t know. But now you do. That song became like a mantra for me. It kept me going. Now, I finally have you in my arms and I’m not going to let you go.” I pull a handkerchief out of my pocket and gently wipe her tears away. “Hermione, will you move into Grimmauld Place, with me?”

She looks up at me and smiles, but there is hesitation in her eyes. I stop her before she can say no. “I will clean up more rooms for Arthur and Candace. I want you there with me. Please?”

“Harry, thank you, but I don’t want to put you out. You have done so much for me, do you really want a ready-made family living in your house?”

I pull her to sit at a table next to me, holding her hand. “Hermione, it’s no trouble. It took me less than a day to fix up your room, I can do the same for the kids. Please?”

Her mind is working. I can see it in her eyes. “Harry, I was only gone for a little bit today, how did you get my room done so fast?”

I squeeze her hand and look at the ground. “I did it almost five years ago.”

She stopped suddenly and looked at me incredulously, “Why did you sleep on the couch then, if I had my own room?”

I feel so ashamed. I can’t lie to her. God, she’s going to hate me. “I liked laying on my bed the next day and smelling you on my pillow. It was the closest I could get to having you sleep next to me.”

I’m waiting for it. I’m waiting for the slap or at least the clicking of her shoes as she walks out the door, but instead I feel a soft hand cradle my cheek and urge me to look at her. She didn’t have to say anything; I knew what she was thinking. Or at least I had it narrowed down. She was either thinking that I was the biggest prat in the world or the biggest sap.

I couldn’t figure out with one was right, because suddenly my lips were crushed against hers in a passionate kiss. I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t want to breathe. Breathing was highly overrated.

Hermione pulled back and buried her face in my neck. Her soft voice then whispered, “Take me home, Harry.”

TBC

10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Never have I been this nervous. I am standing in the living room of my new home staring at my best friend, not knowing what to do or say. There is so much he needs to know. I love him. I want him. I want to live with him. I want to take him upstairs and ravage him ten ways to Sunday. God, why can’t I say that, any of it? I feel numb. I can’t speak. I’m afraid to try. I feel cold without his arms around me. Why am I just standing here?

Somehow my body decides to take over where my mind had left off. I walk slowly toward him, lost in his intense gaze. God, I love his eyes. I feel free when I look at him, I can see forever in his eyes. Suddenly, he is right in front of me, his arms not sure whether to wrap around me or not. I guess he is as nervous as I am. What if he doesn’t like it? What if we wake up in the morning and realize it was all a mistake? What if…

Oh my god, he’s kissing me. He tastes like peppermint and chocolate. Hmmmm. I would be satisfied with just kissing him, but my lower half is trying to veto that idea. I can feel a fire burning from my lips down through my chest and settling in my lower abdomen. I have never felt anything so intense in my life. I know now, that we were indeed meant for each other, it just took us a while to get here.

Harry’s warm hands are running smoothly across my back. I can’t help the goosebumps that sprout up all over my body. He sends chills through me. He chuckles lightly into my mouth as he runs his fingers over my prickled flesh, knowing he was the one making my body react that way. I am distracted for a moment at the realization that I am not wearing knickers and the heat and moisture in that region is becoming most uncomfortable to contain.

My hands seem to have minds of their own as they roam over the plains of his back, chest, arms, butt… Oh, Merlin, quidditch as been good to him. I realize now that Harry is cradling me in his arms. Without breaking his kiss, he carries me up the stairs to his room, kicks the door closed and heads toward the bed. My heart is beating out of my chest. I want him more than anything and the feeling is mutual judging from the impressive bulge in his trousers that I felt when he helped me back to my feet.

We have yet to say a word since we returned from dancing. Everything we need to say is in our kisses, our touches, our looks. I feel my lips being devoured again and his hands start to travel over my bum down to the hem of my dress. As he gingerly raises my skirt, I am suddenly embarrassed at the fact that I have no knickers on. What if he takes it wrong? What if he thinks I planned this? Well, I did hope, but I didn’t plan, per se.

A devilish grin spreads over Harry’s face as he pulls my dress over my head, leaving me bare to his gaze. “You are beautiful, Hermione,” he breathed in my ear, causing me to shudder in anticipation. His breath was so warm on my ear; I wonder what it would feel like elsewhere on my body. Before I can think that thought any further, he is answering that query. His mouth… lips… tongue… nipple… Oh… my… God! My knees become weak and he pulls me to him before I can fall.

I can fell him pressed into my stomach. He is deliciously hot and hard against me. I want to touch him, taste him. I start to undo the buttons on his shirt, careful not to pop them in my haste. My hands are shaking so badly, it takes forever just to get a couple unbuttoned. I pull away from his kiss to concentrate more on the task at hand. Damn him! How am I supposed to concentrate when he’s doing that to my neck? Frustration and desperation get the best of me and I pull his wand from his back pocket and mutter a spell that leaves him beautifully naked in my arms. The shock on his face is classic as he stares at me in awe. I was not considered the best student in thirty years at Hogwarts’ for nothing.

I step back slightly to take in the sight before me. He is beautiful. Perfect. My eyes travel down his hard chest to the six pack lightly smattered with dark hair leading down to… Holy… I will give him credit, he does have Ron beat in that department. There goes the myth of hand size reflecting penis size. Harry’s hands are definitely not that big! I look up at him and meet his eyes. I am lost again. I turn him around and push him back on the bed. He is shocked and tries to sit up before I lightly push him back down.

“Please, Harry. I want to taste you.” Who’s voice was that? I said it, but it sure as hell didn’t sound like me. I kneel between his legs, running my fingers lightly over his thighs, reveling in the shudders and goosebumps I am eliciting on him. I find myself staring at the gorgeous specimen of manhood standing proudly in front of me. There is no possible way that I can take all of him in my mouth, but who am I not to try?

I hear a gasp from him as I run my tongue over the moist tip, tasting the little droplet there. God, he tastes good. That one little taste puts me into a frenzy. I want to devour him, make him scream my name. I want to taste him fully. I take as much as I can in my mouth and he moans loudly. I can feel his fingers wrapping themselves in my hair. I smile inwardly; I know I am good at this.

Harry is calling my name as I bring him closer to the edge. My mouth and hands work up and down his erection smoothly. I gently cup his balls and massage lightly and his body jerks from the sensation, which almost makes me lose the contact my mouth has with him. I gently trail a finger over his perineum and he tenses, calling my name again. Two more long strokes and I am busily swallowing his seed. Not too salty, rather sweet. I can get used to that very easily.

Before I can stand, Harry is pulling me up and kissing me fiercely. He obviously doesn’t mind the taste of himself in my kiss. Ron was always weird about that. He would never kiss me afterwards. I mentally slap myself for thinking of Ron while kissing Harry. This is Harry. This is different. This is wonderful.

My thoughts are interrupted when Harry takes an erect nipple into his warm mouth. The sensations he is causing are amazing. My skin is on fire and he is the only thing that can contain that fire. I must have unconsciously spread my legs, because he is now settled between my thighs, kissing down my chest and stomach. Who would have known how erotic the belly button could be? I never would have thought it. In an instant his lips are on my center, kissing my most intimate place. When his tongue darts out to tease my clit, I moan his name and grip the sheets tightly. After what seems like hours, my hands are aching from the firm grip I have on the bedsheets, my legs are trembling in arousal, and my voice is rasping from screaming Harry’s name into the night. I briefly wonder where he learned how to do this, but before my thought is finished I am enveloped in heat and warmth and light and energy. I writhe beneath his mouth in the most intense orgasm I have ever had. He slowly and softly continues kissing my throbbing core as I come down from a most delicious high.

I want to sit up and wrap him in my arms but I have found that I am paralyzed from the breasts down. My body is humming so hard from post-coital bliss that I can almost hear it. He slithered his way up to lay beside me. That’s right, he slithered. I guess he does have some Slytherin in him after all. I curl up into his embrace and lay butterfly kisses across his chest and up toward his neck. His lips find mine and the flavors of our love mix in our kiss. I love this man. Something so little as a kiss, has opened me up completely to him. I have never had a kiss like this. I can taste myself on his lips, and I can still taste him in my mouth. God, the mixture of the two is like an aphrodisiac and I am ready for more. My body is still trying to catch up to my libido, but they’ll meet in the middle soon.

I still can’t move my legs. That was one amazing orgasm. So I pull Harry to lie above me. His weight feels heavenly on me. He probably thinks he is crushing me, but I don’t want him anywhere but where he is. The pressure of his body on mine, causes another flood of arousal to burn down to my core. I look up into his eyes. Is he scared? Merlin, his eyes look so much like a child that is scared to go to sleep. I bring my hand up to caress his cheek. “I love you, Harry.”

His eyes seem to clear and he smiles down at me before kissing me lightly. “Hermione, I love you so much.” That scared look comes back. “Are you sure?”

I nod reassuring him that this is indeed what I want; what I’ve dreamed of. I have never felt so loved, so worshipped, so adored as I do right now. My hands rub his back reaffirming my need for him. He still seems hesitant like he doesn’t know what to do. I then realize that it has been almost seven years since he has made love to anyone. He is probably afraid that he’ll do something wrong.

I let my hand venture to his penis and after stroking him lightly I guide him to me. The heat coming from him is amazing. The energy that is flowing through the two of us is overwhelming. He leans down and kisses me as he pushes himself slowly into me, burying himself to the hilt. My gasp breaks the kiss. He is big. I feel full, complete; like I was a puzzle missing a piece and I just found it.

I realize that he is not moving and I look back at him. He must have misread my gasp, because he is looking down at me alarmed. “I’m sorry, Mione. I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he whispers trying to contain the shaking in his voice.

“You didn’t hurt me Harry. Far from it, actually.” I sigh contentedly as I move my hips up to his. “You feel so good.”

He finally takes this as a cue and we quickly find a rhythm. The tempo is slow and sure with long intoxicating strokes. I am in heaven. We were definitely made for each other; we fit together perfectly. We can read the other’s moves before they are made. We rock together for what seems like hours. Time has seemed to stand still, which is fine with me. I could stay like this for the rest of my life.

Harry is showering me with kisses all over my face, neck and chest. He starts whispering in my ear and I lose all control. “Let it go, love. Come for me. I want to see how beautiful you are.” Oh, God. If I thought the last one was big, it has nothing on this climax. I pull him closer to me, wrapping my legs around his waist. I can feel my muscles contracting around him and before I know it, he has joined me in my oblivion. I can feel him throbbing inside me, releasing the product of an intense orgasm of his own.

Finally after a few moments, he collapses atop me, and I revel in the peace I feel. I groan at the loss of him inside me when he rolls to lie beside me. His hands caress me as he looks deeply into my eyes. I can see the love there, the trust, the yearning, the joy. I hope he can see the same reflected in mine. He kisses me lightly and whispers against my lips, “You are amazing.”

“You are the amazing one, Harry Potter.”

He pulls away and looks at me with the weirdest expression on his face. “Why do you say that?”

I roll to my side and prop myself up on my elbow. “You have had all that passion trapped in your body for Merlin knows how long. I don’t know how you could stand being around me when you felt so strongly.”

“I couldn’t stand being away from you,” he whispered through watery eyes. I reached up to brush his tears away and he kissed my palm lightly. “Please say I won’t have to be away from you again.”

I smiled. My heart was overflowing. I was almost intimidated by the strength of his love for me. Do I love him that much? Do I deserve to be loved that much? My inner debate stops as I see the pleading in his eyes. I could never leave him. I love him more than anything I have ever known. “As long as you tell me the same.” He leans over and kisses me. I realize now what it means to be loved, truly loved.

11. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

I am suddenly awakened by a god-awful pain in my right arm. It feels like someone is sticking a million needles in and out of the flesh. I roll over to see a large mass of brown curls lying haphazardly over said arm. I can’t help but smile. Hermione. We made love last night. Oh God, did we. It was wonderful. She was wonderful. I lean closer to her and bury my nose in her hair. That’s the smell I love.

I gently run my fingers through her curls. I love her hair. God, I love everything about her; even the fact that her head is laying on my arm and cutting off the circulation. I don’t care as long as she is here. My arm could be falling off and I wouldn’t care. She is lying in my arms. Naked. I grin inwardly. I have a gloriously naked woman, lying in my bed, in my arms. Well, not just any woman… but Hermione.

I decided that the blood loss to my arm was becoming severely painful and try to pull my arm gently from under her head. She shifts suddenly and rolls over toward me. She is beautiful. Her eyes are closed, dark eyelashes lying on her freckled cheeks. Her warm red lips are parted slightly, enticing me. I lean forward and softly brush my lips across hers. The energy that flows in that small touch makes me forget the numbness in my arm.

Brown eyes slowly open and look deep into mine. “Good morning.” Her voice is like sweet music to my ears, low and raspy from sleep. Damn, she sounds sexy in the morning.

“Morning,” I reply as I kiss her softly again.

“Hmmm, I could get used to this,” she whispers as she nuzzles herself into my chest. Her body fits so perfectly to mine, and my body is undoubtedly enjoying the feel of her skin against mine. My other brain decides that he wants to play and jerks slightly, nudging her hip. I feel like such a pervert. All she is doing is lying next to me and I have a hard-on that could kill a horse.

There is a mischievous glint in her eye as she snakes her hand between our bodies and grasps my shaft in her hand. Oh Gods. She’s stroking him… No, I can’t handle this. It feels too good, if that is possible.

“I see someone else wanted to say ‘Good Morning,’” she grins. When did she become a vixen? The Hermione I remember was always soft-spoken and shy when it came to sex. Now she’s discussing my manhood as a third person…

What was I saying? How can I concentrate when she… Oh Gods. Hermione’s warm hands are all over my body, but one is mainly focusing on little Harry, or not-so-little Harry, as the case may be right now. My lips search for hers. I don’t know what I am kissing, maybe her eyelid, or maybe her hairline. I don’t care. I can’t open my eyes. I’m afraid if I open them, that this would all be a dream and she would be gone.

“Harry?” Her voice is a whisper, I can barely hear it.

I open my eyes and see her beautiful brown eyes searching mine. “Hmmm?” I answer, not trusting my voice beyond that.

“I want to make love to you again.”

What am I supposed to say to that? I would make love to her anytime, day or night, if she wanted. I pull her closer to me and cover her lips with mine. She tastes wonderful and feels even better. She is still warm from sleep and the feel of her naked skin against mine shoots a surge of arousal to my groin and a rush of love to my heart. My chest is aching with the love I feel right now for the woman in my arms.

She pulls herself up to she is half laying one me, my once trapped arm, is now feeling pins and needles again as the blood rushes back to my fingers. I try to ignore the pain and run my hands up and down her sides. A slight moan escapes from the back of her throat and I am lost. All I can feel is her - Her body, her skin, her lips, her tongue. Hmmmm. I could definitely get used to this.

After a few moments she pulls away from my lips and straddles my waist. Her moist center is rubbing over the length of my erection. Oh damn, she is so hot. Her face is etched with pleasure. Her yes are burning into mine with such an intensity. I love her. I honestly, truly, deeply love this woman. I would gladly give her everything her heart desires if she could just look at me this way everyday. My hands lift her hips so that I am positioned at her entrance. Before I can help her down, she drops and I am sheathed in her warmth. We both moan at the sensation and I decide that this is where I want to be all day long. I couldn’t care less about the outside world, as long as I could make love to Hermione.

My body is tingling everywhere her soft hands touch – my side, me chest, my face, my arms. It feels like she is touching all those places at once. I grab her hips again and rock her against my pubic bone. God, I love the way she sounds. The little mewls and moans are driving me closer to… Oh… Oh… I can feel her orgasm starting as she squeezes me tighter. Her moans are louder and she calling my name. My name. It sounds wonderful coming from her lips.

“Oh… Harry!” she screams as she throws her head back and bucks against me, her body shuddering with her release. The intensity of the beauty before me, and the joy I feel at knowing I did that to her, causes me to follow her into bliss. I breathe her name as my body lets go. I have never had such intense orgasms before. She is a goddess.

She is lying on top of me and I wrap her tightly in my arms. With a light kiss to her forehead I whisper, “I love you. I always have.”

I look at her, her brown eyes staring intensely into mine again. She smiles but I see tears forming in the corners of those beautiful eyes. “Love, please don…”

She shushes me with a finger to my lips. “I love you too, Harry. I am sorry for not following my heart during sixth year. I should have been with you, not R…”

“Hermione, you had better not be sorry.” OK so that came out wrong. “I mean, if you and I would have gotten together then, you would not have Arthur or Candace. You would probably be burned out working at the Ministry, and there would have been a higher chance that I may not have been there for you.” She is looking at me strangely, and suddenly I realize that we are having this discussion while I am still physically attached to her. But that’s not why she’s looking at me like that.

“Harry, I don’t understand. Why wouldn’t you have been there?”

My heart aches at even the thought of this, but I have to say it. “If Voldemort would have known that I had feelings for you, you would have been a bigger target than you were. He could have used you to get to me. I could have been distracted by you and lost focus on him. I would have died for you if I had to.” My eyes are filling with tears and I struggle to hold them back. I can hear my voice cracking.

She wraps her arms around me and pulls herself tighter to me. I love how she fits in my arms. How we fit together perfectly. Hermione lifts her head and I think she is going to kiss me, but reaches up and kisses my tears away.

12. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

I apparate to the Burrow. I’m late. It’s my own damned fault, if I would have just taken a shower and not lured Harry into the bath, I would have been on time. But no, I had to be the seductress, the vixen. I think I have created a monster; the man is insatiable. I brush the imaginary lint from my robes as I step into the living room.

I look up to see Ron sitting on the couch, staring absently into the fire. I’m glad I didn’t come by Floo. I probably would have scared the poor man to death. I clear my throat to make my presence known and he turns to look at me. He is smiling, albeit not wholeheartedly, but he is smiling at me. I smile back. Suddenly I realize why we are here, and the butterflies in my stomach are now the size of bludgers and are flying around as fast as they can.

“Hi, ‘Mione,” he says as he stands and steps toward me.

I envelope him in a reassuring hug. “Hello, Ron.”

He pulls back and grins cheekily at me. “What?” I ask and he shakes his head chuckling.

“You’re late.”

“I know, I got held up. I had some things to… finish.” My god, did that sound stupid? It did from this end.

“I see.” There is a devilish glint in his blue eyes. He knows that Harry and I had sex. How did I think I could get it past him? I was married to him for ten years, for Cerce’s sake. Of course he would see the afterglow.

“Oh, bugger off, Ron.”

“Ooo, such language,” he teased. “So… how was it?” I look at him, astonished. How could he ask such a thing? I can’t believe him. Here we are getting ready to inform our children that we are divorced and he wants me to tell him how sex was with his best friend. I could be mean and tell him it was the best sex I ever had. It’s true, but I’m not that cruel.

“That, Mr. Weasley, is none of your business!” I said triumphantly, thinking that would be the end of the conversation, but alas, I was wrong.

“By the look in your eyes, and the glow surrounding you, it was pretty damn good.” I couldn’t help but blush. I damn my body for betraying me. “It’s alright, Hermione. I know you love him. I want you to be happy. I couldn’t do that, he can, and obviously has.” He raises a ginger eyebrow at me. He reminds me of a redheaded Snape. I grab the closest pillow and throw it at him. That’s what throw pillows are made for anyway, right?

That one thrown pillow starts a melee of sorts, and Ron and I start hitting each other with pillows and tickling. I can’t help but laugh. He knows every spot I’m ticklish and he uses that to his advantage. The two of us are rolling around on the floor attacking each other like we did when we were kids in the common room at Hogwarts. I miss those days, sometimes. He hits me hard upside the head with a pillow and I lunge for his legs. I grab his feet and start to rip his shoe off when we are interrupted by two pairs of eyes looking questioningly at us form the kitchen door.

Ron jumps away from me and sits on the couch. “Hi kids.” I try to tame the mass of tangles out of my hair with my fingers as I sit next to Ron on the couch. Arthur and Candace come to sit in front of us.

“Grandmum, said you wanted to talk to us,” Arthur speaks first. I can tell he is confused. He knows something is wrong, and he’s probably wondering why, if something is wrong, were we wrestling and tickling each other. I take a millisecond and ask myself the same question. I think we needed the tension breaker. Yeah, that’s it, I convince myself.

“Yes, your mum and I want to let you know some things.” Ron sounds so scared. I subconsciously grab his hand, reassuring him, that we can do this. “Kids, your mum and I are…”

Words have seemed to fail him and I try to take over, with no avail. “Kids,… um… what your dad is trying to say is…” That’s when my brilliant nine-year-old son decides to take matters into his own hands.

“You’re getting divorced, aren’t you?” God, I have never heard him sound so broken, so weak. I look into his brilliant blue eyes, just like Ron’s, and I nod. That’s all I can do. What am I supposed to say?

“What’s di-forced?” Candace asked in her sweet little voice. I reach over for her and pull her into my lap.

I take a deep breath and try to explain it so her three-year-old little mind can understand it. “Baby, a divorce is when two people who are married, decide to not be married anymore.”

She looks at me with her big brown eyes and asks innocently, “Mummy, don’t you love Daddy? When you love somebody, you’re s’posed to marry them.”

My tears are slowly filling my eyes. Why does this have to be so hard, when it was so easy for us to decide this? “Yes, baby, I love your daddy. I always will. But I think that Daddy and I are better friends than we are being married to each other.”

“That’s bullocks, and you know it!”

“Arthur Frederick Weasley, you watch your language.” I try to hide a chuckle at the idea of Ron scolding anyone for cursing. But at the same time, I absently wonder where Arthur learned such language. I will have to talk to the twins, about that.

“You guys are going to get divorced and then we will have to choose who we want to stay with. You will use us as pawns like in chess.” Of course he would use that analogy, he is Ron’s son after all. “I don’t want to have to go back and forth from one house to another. I like it the way it is.”

Ron looks at our son, who seems so grown-up for being nine. “Do you really like it, the way it is? That I’m never home, that your Mum and I fight? Artie, I know you don’t like it.”

“How do you know what I like and don’t like? And don’t call me Artie!” I can’t believe that my son, my non-redheaded son, is yelling at the top of his lungs at his father… and Ron’s taking it.

“I’m sorry… Arthur. Do you like seeing your Mum sad? Do you like me not being home? Do you like having to…” I can tell Ron is having a hard time with this and I try to step in.

“Arthur, dear. Your dad and I still love each other. We have been friends since we were eleven. But we are better friends that we are husband and wife. We’re not in love with each other anymore. I can’t make your Dad happy and he can’t make me happy. It’s better this way.” I see the crestfallen expression on Ron’s face and my heart breaks. That sounded so much harsher than it did in my head. I mentally kick myself with the foot I just extracted from my mouth.

I am brought out of my self-defamation by a small hand tugging on my sleeve. “Do you still love us, Mummy?” Candace’s sweet face looks from me to Ron. “Daddy?”

I squeeze the little person in my arms. “Yes, baby, we both love you two very much. We want what is best for our family, and we think that it would be best if Mummy and Daddy weren’t married anymore.”

“Can we all live in the same house?” she asks. I love her. She is so sweet, so innocent. How can I break her heart like this?

“No, baby. Uncle Harry has invited us to stay with him for a while.” I hear Ron snort under his breath. “Daddy is going to still live in our house, so when you see Daddy, you will stay there.”

“Why does he get to stay in the house? He’s never there! Why do we have to find another place to live, why can’t he?” That boy is most definitely a Weasley.

“Arthur,” I say warningly. “Harry offered us a place in his home, so that your dad did not have to move all of our stuff out at once. Your dad has the money from his job to pay for the house. I don’t have a job right now, how am I supposed to pay for it?” I am saying this as calmly as possible.

Ron shudders and whispers toward me, “I would have paid for it ‘Mione.”

“Yeah, Mum. My friend, Christopher’s parents are divorced and his dad pays his mum alley money.”

“That’s alimony, dear, and I don’t want your dad’s money. I have some money in my Gringotts account that we can use until I get a job.” I want to go to work. I miss working. I miss the excitement of learning and teaching. That’s what I can do… teach. Maybe I can get a job at Hogwarts as a teacher, or even a librarian. I heard Madam Pince is planning on retiring soon. I didn’t realize that I was thinking out loud until Ron looked at me strangely.

“You don’t want my money? Hermione, I will pay you all the money in the world, if you need it.”

“Ron, it’s not about money. It’s about being happy, and you know that money does not make me happy. I want other things out of life than money.” I guess that pacifies him for the moment, as he turns away from me and looks at the ground.

“Arthur, please. This is hard for us too. But you have to understand, that this is for the best.” Ron says trying to stay calm and collected. I am very proud of him.

“That’s what you say, Dad. But Christopher’s parents hate each other. They are always fighting and putting Chris in the middle of it. I don’t want to be in the middle of it.” I see tears running down his freckled face, before I can reach out to him, Ron has pulled him onto his lap.

“Arthur, I don’t hate your mum, I could never hate her. She is my best friend. I hope she still feels the same about me. We will still talk, and maybe we can all have dinner sometimes, but your mum and I just don’t get along very well when were married. I’m sorry, son. I love you and I didn’t want to upset you.” Ron gave Arthur a small kiss at his temple. Ron never shows affection like that. My heart leaps at this new breakthrough. Why does it take this for him to show that he loves his son? Why does it have to be too late?

“Son, I am leaving the choices up to you. I know you are not happy with us right now, and I understand. Your mum has arranged things with your Uncle Harry to stay with him. When you want to come see me, just send me an owl or Floo me, and I will be there. If you want to set it up so that you and Candi can stay with me every other week or weekend, that is up to you.”

I look from Ron to Arthur and then down to Candace, who has fallen asleep in my arms. Her tiny face is streaked with tears, and I am torn apart. I look back up at my son. “Arthur, you do understand why this is happening don’t you?” I ask softly.

“Yes, Mum. I understand. I have seen you cry when Dad is gone. I know you’re not happy. I see you fighting with Dad when he’s late. I know he’s not happy. I’m not happy either. I just want it to be the way it used to be. When we would sit at the table and eat together. When you would read to me in front of the fire while Dad was reading the sports section of the Daily Prophet. I want Candi to know how happy we used to be.” My heart is now a pile of mush on the floor. We have crushed our son. When did he become so philosophical? I reach out and rub his arm lightly.

He looks up at me and sees the tears in my eyes. He looks at Ron and sees the same in his. “Why don’t you love each other anymore?”

Ron looks at me like he’s asking permission to tell the truth. I nod, but speak before he can. “Arthur, I have fallen in love with someone else. He makes me happy.” Let me take the blame, Ron has enough hurdles to jump in his relationship with Arthur, no use making it worse. Ron’s eyes are huge as he looks at me. That’s right Ron, let Arthur be mad at me.

“Mum? Why?”

I look deeply into those blue eyes, “You’ll learn someday, that you can’t control who you fall in love with. I love your father, but I am in love with this other man. Like I said, he makes me happy.” I force a smile. I hate breaking my son’s heart, but I know he’ll understand someday. I watch as he looks over at Ron.

“It’s all right, son. I want your mum to be happy. That’s all I want. She deserves it, and I can’t give it to her.”

“But what if Mum decides to marry this other guy?” Ron looks at me with a small grin on his face. He’s testing me. I dove in headfirst and now I must try to keep from drowning.

“Arthur, if that is going to happen, it will probably be a long way away. But if I decide to get married later, the man will be you’re stepfather. He will not try to replace your dad. Your dad is your dad. No one can take that from you.” That sounded good. Where did that come from? My mind is so far out of it; I’m surprised I can even make a coherent thought.

“And if I decide to get married again, the woman would not try to replace your mum. She carried you in her belly for nine months, she gave birth to you. No one can ever replace that. Alright?”

Arthur nods, and wipes his tears fiercely with his sleeve. “Now go and get your things, so that your mum can take you to Uncle Harry’s.” Arthur gets up from his father’s lap, but before he can move to go up the stairs, he wraps his arms around Ron’s neck.

“I love you, Dad.”

Ron closes his eyes. I can tell he’s holding back the tears. “I love you, too, Arthur.”

Arthur pulls away and heads to the stairs. “Dad?” Ron turns to look at him. “You can call me Artie, if you want.”

Ron smiles and shakes his head. “No, Arthur, you’re too grown up to be an Artie. Arthur fits you much better.” Arthur smiles as best he can before trudging up the stairs.

My arm is falling asleep under the weight of Candace and I try to maneuver her so I can lay her down on the couch. Ron stops me and takes her from my arms. He hugs her tight to his body, her red curls falling over his arm. The tears are now falling unchecked down his cheeks. I reach up to my face and realize that I am crying too.

He looks up at me with bloodshot eyes. “I’m sorry, Hermione.”

I move closer to him and wrap my arms around him. “Ron, you don’t need to apologize. We can both be happy now.” He kisses me lightly on the forehead and does the same to our daughter.

“It’s better this way.” I’m not sure if he is trying to convince me or himself and I squeeze his hand in mine. We sit there together looking at our beautiful girl. A slight sniffling comes from the kitchen door, and I look up to see Molly standing there, kneading her apron in her hands.

Before she can burst into tears, I stand up and wrap her in a hug, “Oh, Molly. It’s alright.”

“I know, dear. I know you both are wonderful parents and I know that this is the best for you and the kids. I just don’t want you to think, Miss Hermione, that you can just ignore us now. You are a part of this family as much as anyone else, including Harry. Don’t be a stranger.” I smile at her scolding tone. She can be very intimidating at times. Right now, though, with her voice cracking from unshed tears, the ferocity just isn’t there.

I hug her fiercely. She is the closest thing I have to a mother, now. I could never let her go. “Molly, I don’t think the kids would let me be a stranger.” I chuckle lightly and she kisses my cheek.

“I love you, Hermione, dear. You know, if you want, you can call me Mum, everyone else does.”

I look her straight in the eye and smile. “I love you, too… Mum.”

With that she nods and leaves the room. I am assuming to let out the tears she has been holding back. I turn to look at Ron who was putting Candace down on the couch. He turns to me and kisses me softly on the lips. “I’ve got to run.” I nod at him. This is goodbye. “I love you ‘Mione.”

“I love you too, Ron.”

He starts to walk out the door and then turns suddenly, “Mum’s right. You are a part of this family. Don’t be a stranger.”

I smile at him and he returns it genuinely. “I won’t. But you have to agree to the same.”

He nods and reaches out his right hand. I shake it. “Agreed,” he said.

“I’ll see you later, Ron.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you later. Bye ‘Mione.” I watch the door as he walks away and disapparates. I close my eyes and sigh, trying to contain the tears that threaten to spill. I have cried enough. I don’t need to cry anymore. This is for the best. I walk back into the living room and pick up Candace in my arms. “Yeah, this is for the best.” I say to no one in particular before heading upstairs to collect my son and go home.

13. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

I am going crazy… literally. I am lying here in my bed… alone, again. I thought that having Hermione and the kids move in would keep me from being alone. Most of the time I’m not, but right now, in my bed, I am alone. It has been 3 weeks, 4 days, 14 hours and… um… 36 minutes since Hermione, Arthur and Candace moved into Grimmauld Place. And in those 3 weeks, 4 days, 14 hours and now 37 minutes I have gotten to spend absolutely no time alone with Hermione. How can you actually be alone when you are with someone? Hmmm…

Well, enough of that train of thought. I miss her. She is 40 feet away and I miss her. I miss holding her, kissing her, loving her… I just plain miss HER. Don’t get me wrong; I love the kids. I love having them here, but I can’t even come up behind her and nuzzle her neck without her jumping away… ‘just in case the kids come in.’ I know that this is a hard time for them, but I can only take so much. I had so long to learn to live without her, that once I had her, there was no turning back.

I grudgingly get out of bed. I might as well start my day. I may be retired from Quidditch, but I still have things to do. Exactly what, I can’t think of right now, but I know I have better things to do that stare at my ceiling all day. I pull on my jeans and a t-shirt. Comb my hair, not like it matters, and go down stairs for a cup of coffee and my morning constitutional.

When I walk into the kitchen, I find a small redhead eating cereal drowned in orange juice and wearing the most mis-matched clothes I have ever seen. I can’t help but smile. She’s so damned cute.

“Candi?”

“Oh, hi Uncle Harry.” She looks back down at the newspaper on the table, acting like she is reading it. She is just like her mother, intellectual from head to toe.

I go to pour myself a cup of coffee and find that there’s none made. That’s odd. Hermione usually makes it when she gets Arthur off to school. I wave my wand and conjure up a cup. It’s not as good as the real thing, but it will do. I sit at the kitchen table next to Hermione, Jr. and she ignores me, her eyes moving rapidly over the paper.

“So, anything exciting happen in the news today?” I ask her, and she looks at me blankly for a moment before realizing I am asking her about the newspaper.

“Nope, just the same old thing,” she answers flatly. She wants to be so grown up.

“So, what’s for breakfast?”

She looks up at me and grins. “Cocoa Clusters and Orange Juice. Would you like some?” I can’t help but cringe at the thought of what that would taste like. I shake my head telling her I don’t want any cereal and take a sip of my coffee.

For a while I just sit in companionable silence with the three-year-old, amazed that she could be so much like her mother, even this young. Speaking of her mother…

“Candi, did you make your breakfast this morning?”

She beams at me and nods her head with a mouthful of the disgusting mixture of chocolate and sugar and orange juice. My body involuntarily shudders as she swallows the mouthful without chewing. “Mummy’s sick,” she says between bites.

That was not what I was expecting to hear. Hermione is never sick. “Did she come down to take Arthur to school?”

She shakes her head, red curls looming dangerously close to the bowl of cereal. “Nope, Arthur walked to school. Mum knows, so don’t go tattling.”

I smile slightly but can’t help the concern from showing on my face and Candace continues talking as she eats. “Mum was up a lot frowing up.” Throwing up? I look at the young girl and begin to ask her another question when I am suddenly overcome with the urge to throw up myself. If I thought Candi’s breakfast looked disgusting in the bowl, it’s worse when it’s half chewed in her mouth as she is talking to you.

“Please, don’t talk with your mouth full,” I reprimand her lightly.

She swallows. “Oh, sorry.”

“Uncle Harry? Will you take Mummy to the medi-place to get her better? I don’t like it when Mummy’s sick.”

I think about it for a moment and nod. “Candi, I’ll be right back, all right?”

She nods and turns her page in the paper. I stifle a chuckle at her as I walk into the living room. Grabbing a handful of powder from the mantle, I toss it in and stick my head in the green flames. Suddenly, I am looking at the closest thing to a mother, I have ever known. “Molly?”

The plump woman turns to me. “Oh, Harry. How are you this morning?”

“I’m all right, but I think Hermione might have come down with something.”

“Oh dear. Well, there is that bug going around. The twins had it last week. Maybe its…”

I interrupted her as politely as I could, “I’m sorry, Molly, but would you be able to take Candi for a while so I can take Hermione to the mediwitch?”

She smiles brightly and agrees. After gathering the technicolor child from the kitchen, I floo to the Burrow, kiss Molly and Candace on the cheek and floo back home. I take a few minutes to make some tea. I know just how she likes it… a little cream and a little honey. I smile at the idea that I may get to have some time alone with her. I know, I know, she’s sick. I’m not going to do anything; I just want to be with her, without the interruption of children. I can just hold her and nurse her back to health.

I carefully walk up the stairs carrying a tray of tea and biscuits, trying hard not to trip or spill the tea. I knock softly on her door. A low grunt is the only reply. “Hermione, I brought you some tea. Can I come in?”

A second later the door opens of its own accord and I look in to see Hermione with her head buried in her pillow and her arm up pointing her wand at the door. As I step closer, I see that she looks like death warmed over. Her hair is tangled and her eyes are bloodshot. I set the tray down on the table and feel her forehead for a fever. Nope, no fever. Gingerly, I sit on the bed and push some stray tangles away from her face.

“You okay?”

She shakes her head. “I can’t stop throwing up. It started about 4:00 this morning and barely has let up.”

I grab a mug off the tray and offer it to her. She sits up slowly and takes the cup. She smiles as she sips it. I know just how she likes her tea. “Can I do anything for you, love?” I ask her softly as I run my fingers up and down her leg. I can feel her skin prickling under my touch. I have missed her.

“No, but thank you for the tea. It’s seems to be helping a bit.”

“Do you think it’s just the flu or something?”

“I don’t know Harry. I feel like I was run over by Hagrid followed by a few dozen thestrals.”

I stand up and urge her to sit forward a bit. I maneuver myself so that I am sitting with my back against the headboard and Hermione between my legs. I wrap my arms around her and hold her as she leans back into me. Neither one of us speaks; it is so peaceful, quiet.

My hands absently rub over her belly and I suddenly feel a rumble under my fingertips. A moment later Hermione is dashing to the loo. I can hear her heaving and my heart aches for her. I hate to see her like this. After a few moments I can hear water running and the distinct sound of her brushing her teeth. Her parents were dentists after all, you know.

She slowly comes back to me and curls up against my chest. I kiss the top of her head as I pull the covers over her. “Harry, will you stay with me today?”

I smile into her hair and whisper “Of course.”

I love this. Just sitting here, holding her. This is the best way I could ever possibly spend a day. Well, almost the best, I can thing of a few more amorous ways of passing the time. It has been so long since I have even touched her that my body is reacting already. I shift back a bit so that she can’t fell me against her rear.

She’s chuckling. She knows what I’m doing. Dammit.

“I miss you, Harry.” Those four little words make my heart sing. I kiss her shoulder softly and tell her that I miss her too.

“Where’s Candace?”

“With Molly.”

She turns slightly to face me. “You mean, we’re alone?” The look in her eyes is scary. Honestly. I nod, not knowing what else to say. She kisses me soundly on the lips and I want to deepen the kiss, but don’t take the chance with her being sick and all. Her head lays on my chest, under my chin. She feels so good. Her hair against my skin, her weight pressing into my chest. My arms wrap tighter around her, trying to express how I feel.

“Are you all right, Hermione?” I ask her after a few more minutes and a few more sips of tea.

She nods. “It’s just so weird. It came on so suddenly this morning and now it feels like it’s gone.” I can tell she is feeling better, her voice is clearer and her eyes are sparkling. God, she is beautiful. I nuzzle into her neck as she continues talking. “The last time I felt like this was when I…” She sits up abruptly, her body tense.

“What, ‘Mione? Are you going to be sick again?” She shakes her head and shoots me a panicked look. “Hermione?”

She looks away from me and before I can turn her face back to me, she gets up and starts pacing. “Hermione?” I ask again. She seems lost in her own thoughts and I am becoming more and more worried. When she turns around, I see the sparkling of tears on her cheeks. I stand up and wrap her in my arms letting her rock slightly. Soothing her. I absently rub her back with my fingers. “Hermione, what is it?”

She shakes her head and mumbles something incoherent into my chest. “What was that, love? I don’t have ears down there.”

She stops rocking herself and looks straight at my Adam’s apple. “We didn’t use a charm.”

I shake my head. What in the heck is she talking about? We didn’t use a charm for what? And what does that have to do with anyth… Oh Bloody Hell! I pull her to arms length away, so that I can look her in the eye.

“Hermione, are you saying what I think you’re saying?” My voice is shaky. I don’t even know what I feel right now - fear, apprehension, pride, joy, hope. She nods, but is still focused on anywhere but my face. I cradle her face in my hands and bring her to look at me. I gently wipe her tears away with my thumbs. I search her eyes for something, anything.

“I’m sorry, Harry.” That’s not what I was searching for. She pulls abruptly away from me and flops onto the bed. Her tears are falling unchecked down her cheeks. Why is she sorry? Why is she so upset by this?

I kneel in front of her and urge her to look in my eyes. “Hermione, do I look upset to you?” She shakes her head almost unnoticeably. “Then, please don’t apologize.” She looks at me then. Her eyes are unsure, searching mine. I kiss her tears away and smile as I pull back from her.

“Hermione, we made love four times that night... and morning,” I say reassuringly. “Neither one of cast the charm. We didn’t think about it. I know that all I was thinking about was that I had you in my arms.” She blushed and turned her head away. No, she will not look away from me. This is important. I need her to understand that this is not necessarily a bad thing.

“Plus, as you were the top student in charms, you should know that contraceptive charms only last for so long. We would have had to cast it multiple times for it to have worked properly. And honestly, I don’t think I would have had the strength to stop and cast a charm. Hell, my brain barely functioned as it was, I don’t even think I knew my name, except when you were screaming it into the night.”

I smiled at the deeper blush on her cheeks. “My, Hermione, you do turn a pretty shade a red.” A pillow comes flying at my head and I catch it before she nails me. It feels good to see her smiling again. I know I had to resort to my perverted alter ego, but I got her to smile.

“Harry, you’re not upset about this?”

“Why would I be upset? Granted, it is a little sooner that I had expected, but I wanted you to have my children eventually anyway.” Now I am blushing. I can feel the blood rushing over my face and I turn away. I can’t believe I admitted thinking that.

Suddenly, her arms surround me. I can feel her heart beating against my back and her head resting on my shoulder. “I love you, Harry.” That’s all she has to say and I am weak. I turn to her and kiss her fervently.

All too soon, the kiss ends and I look deep into the brown pools staring at me. “I love you more than anything, Hermione. And if you are indeed carrying my baby, it would make me the happiest man alive.”

She smiles and looks at me again. “Harry, if I tell you the spell, will you check?”

I look at her with the most confused expression on my face. “What spell?”

She shakes her head. “There is a spell that you can check if a witch is pregnant. But I can’t cast it on myself. You’ll have to.”

I nod and pull out my wand. She tells me the incantation and I point my wand at her belly. “Expertus gravida.” A pale purple light shoots out of my wand and surrounds her womb. I stare at her stomach, not knowing what exactly I’m looking for, but suddenly the purple light becomes yellow and fades to a pink before it dissipates completely.

I look up at Hermione expectantly. What just happened? What did that mean? She is smiling, but crying at the same time. Her voice is no more than a whisper as she looks me in the eye. “Harry, you’re going to be a dad.”

14. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

I’m going to be a dad! I stare at the beautiful witch in my arms. I can’t believe she is going to have my baby. I’m going to be a dad, a father, a papa, a daddy! Oh my god, I don’t know how to be a dad. Will I be any good at it? It’s not like playing Quidditch. Will it just come naturally? I never knew my dad. I never learned how to be a dad. I’m thirty years old and I’m going to be a dad. I’m rambling, I know. I am just in such shock right now. I know I look calm on the outside, but I sure as hell am not calm on the inside.

I look again at Hermione who is still crying. Why is she crying? Is the prospect of having my baby that bad? It’s not like its Snape’s or anything like that. I kiss her softly on the top of her head and pull her deeper into my embrace. My heart is overflowing with love for her. I am overwhelmed. I just want to lay here all day with her, make love to her, but I guess holding her will have to suffice.

“ ‘Mione, what’s wrong, love?” The tears are still flowing down her cheeks. I hate seeing her like this. I want to take away all her pain, all her doubt.

“Are we ready for this, Harry?” Hell no, I’m not ready for it, but it’s not like we have a choice. OK, that sounded bad. I’m glad that was only in my head. I nuzzle her neck with butterfly kisses.

“We’ll make it. I promise.”

“I can’t help but be scared, Harry. I mean, We have only been together a total of almost 4 weeks and now we’re going to have a baby. Ron and I were married at least a few months before we were faced with this. I’m just scared.” I pull her closer and she buries her face in my chest. I know she’s scared. I know that she is afraid that we will bring a child or even children in the world and later rip their world apart by separating.

“It’s different this time, ‘Mione. I swear. I’m not like Ron. I will never leave you.” I seal my statement with a kiss to her forehead. I can feel her shaking in my arms, and the front of my shirt is rapidly becoming damp with her tears.

“That’s what Ron said, too.” Oh gods. How am I supposed to fix this? What can I do to prove to her that I will not leave her, that I want her for the rest of my life? I want to marry her, but is it too soon? The kids don’t even know about us yet. But I don’t want her think that she has to do this all on her own. Would she say yes if I asked her to marry me? I don’t want her to think tat its just for the baby, either. God, I’m screwed.

“Let’s just take this one day at a time, love. Today is today, not yesterday or tomorrow… today. And right now, today, I love you more than anything in this world. I want to shout it off the rooftops. What can I do to prove to you that I will never leave you?”

She turns her body so that she is straddling my lap as she looks into my eyes. Her tears have started to subside. I wipe them away with my thumbs and kiss each of her eyelids, trying to stop more tears from forming. I look intently at her. “Hermione, what can I do?”

“Make love to me.”

Her answer is so simple. It’s true. If I pour all my love into making love with her, then maybe she will see how much she means to me. How much I love her. I don’t hesitate for long before I kiss her gently. She tastes like mint, probably from the toothpaste earlier, but I’m not complaining. I personally like mint.

In a few short minutes we have rid ourselves of our clothing and I am raining kisses down her chest and stomach. I stop just at the little pooch of a belly she has from her two other children. I kiss her abdomen, pouring my love through my lips and into her skin. My baby is in there. My baby. Our baby. I whisper an “I love you,” to my unborn child. I know it can’t hear me right now, but I can’t help it. My baby is in there, growing.

I wrap my arms around her waist and lay my head over her womb. Tears are prickling my eyes. Her fingers are running through my hair. This seems so domestic, but immensely intimate at the same time. I could stay like this all day, holding my love and my baby.

After a few moments I look up to see her beautiful face, brown eyes gazing deeply into mine. I crawl up and find her mouth with mine. “I love you so much, Hermione,” I whisper against her lips. She repeats my words. There is so much emotion behind her eyes and suddenly she pulls me to her, almost into her. My manhood is nestled in her curls, lying like a good boy in the warm folds of her core.

Without words, we urge each other on. After 3 weeks, 4 days, and almost 17 hours, you would think that we would be desperate, ravaging each other. But, no, we are taking our time, savoring each kiss, each caress. I slowly slide into her heat and almost collapse from the sensation. She feels so good around me. I have missed her so.

Hermione is the most beautiful woman in the world, but even more so when she is lying wantonly underneath me, moaning and arching against me. I know that I will not last long. My heart is so full that it wants to explode, and after a few more deep strokes, that is just what I do. I explode into her as she writhes beneath me riding her own waves of passion.

After what seems like an eternity, our bodies come down from that blissful euphoria and I pull her to lie beside me. We are still connected. I like falling asleep like this, with myself still buried in her. It is strangely soothing and comfortable.

“Harry, are you sure about this?” Her eyes are so uncertain, scared.

“Hermione, I have never been more sure of anything in my life. I love you.” I place my hand protectively over her belly. “I want this. I have dreamed of this. I know it’s not the most opportune of circumstances, but we will make it.”

She looks deeply into my eyes again and I can see the worry in her eyes. “What about Arthur and Candace?”

I stare at her dumbly. What is she thinking? That I would turn my back on her other two children for my own? No. I love her children as my own and they will have a little baby brother or sister around the beginning of May. My baby…

“How are we going to tell them?”

The only thing that comes to mind is Molly. Molly had to tell all her redheaded monsters that she was pregnant. Hell, Bill had to hear it 5 times. “Maybe we can talk to Molly. She’ll know what to do.”

She looks at me like I have grown three heads. “Molly? As in my ex-mother-in-law, Molly?”

I nod. “Yes, Molly. Who else?”

She sighs indignantly. “Of course, Molly. You’re right Harry. But how is she going to take it? It’s not Ron’s.”

My index finger curls under her chin and brings her eyes to look at me. “Hermione, Molly is just like our own mother. She would be happy for us. If anyone can help us, it’s her.”

Her eyes pull away from mine and she agrees that Molly might be our only hope in this. After a few cleaning spells and finding each other’s clothes, we are dressed and heading to the Burrow.

We apparate into the kitchen, that smells wonderfully of apple pie and sugar cookies. Grandmum is loading the kiddies up, isn’t she? I can hear laughter coming from the back garden. I pull Hermione toward the door, grabbing a warm cookie off of a plate on the way. What can I say? I’m a kid at heart, I can’t resist sugar cookies, especially, Hermione’s and Molly’s. Those two woman will have my fat by the time I turn thirty-one.

“Mummy!” Candi comes running up to us and wraps her arms around Hermione’s legs.

“Hi, baby. Can you go play in the garden, so that I can talk to Grandmum?” The little girls nods and runs off toward a few baby garden gnomes. They might even be small enough for her to fling over the fence. Molly is walking toward us, worrying her apron in her hands.

The three of us sit at the picnic table and the older woman waits patiently for one of us to start. Before I start to talk, Hermione raises her hand to quiet me. I look at her confusedly when she stands up and pulls my wand out of my back pocket. She looks at me and places the wand in my hand. I know what she wants me to do. It’s the easiest way for us to say it, isn’t it?

I point the wand at Hermione and softly say the incantation, “Expertus gravida.” And once again the pale purple light from my wand surrounds her womb, turns yellow and then turns pink before dissipating. Hermione and I are looking at our surrogate mother, who is smiling through her tears. Without a word, she reaches across the table and wraps us both in her a tight hug. After a while she releases us and we sit back down, in a slightly uncomfortable silence.

I chance to speak first. “Molly, how do you feel about this?” I ask tentatively.

Her eyes are still shiny with tears as she tries to compose herself. “I am so happy for the two of you,” she smiles. It seemed to be a true smile. I smiled back. Hermione on the other hand is still beating herself up.

“Molly, I’m sorry. I know it seems fast and…”Molly stops her mid-sentence with a hand placed over Hermione’s.

“Hermione, I have told you to call me Mum, haven’t I? You are just as much my daughter as Ginny is. And Harry you are my seventh son. Never doubt that I love you both. I am truly happy that you have finally let fate and destiny take over in your lives. This baby is a product of that. I am not upset or disappointed in either one of you. You love each other more than most other couples and I know that you will make excellent parents together.”

I can’t help but smile. A weight has been lifted off of my shoulders and I can feel Hermione relax significantly next to me. OK, we’ve told someone, but how do we tell the most important ones? “Molly, how do we tell the kids? They don’t even know about us.” I whisper softly, so that Candi can’t overhear.

“Just be honest with them. They love you, Harry. I think they will understand. They want their mum to be happy. You make her that way. I think they will be fine with it.”

“What about Ron?” Hermione asks and my heart breaks slightly. I don’t want to hurt my best friend. E will probably never forgive me. I didn’t even let her get cold and I made love to her like a rabid animal.

“What about Ron? He is the one who cheated. He has no right to get upset about anything. Just tell him the truth,” Molly says before she turns around to watch Candi start to stumble over her own feet. “The poor dear is ready for a nap. Why don’t you take her home and wait for Arthur to get home. Tell them together. I think it would be best.”

I nodded and went to pick up my half-asleep goddaughter. I carefully hold the child as we apparate back to 12 Grimmauld Place. I take Candace upstairs to her room and tuck her into bed.

When I return downstairs, I find Hermione in the kitchen, making a pot of tea. I could use some, definitely. I wrap my arms around her and run my fingers lightly over where my baby is. She smiles softly as I nuzzle her neck. What starts out as nuzzling, turns into full blown snogging. The next thing I know, I have Hermione sitting on the counter with her knees on either side of my hips, our mouths fighting for possession in a fiery kiss.

“WHAT THE…??!!”

We pull apart suddenly at the intrusion and look to see an irate Arthur standing in the doorway. Hermione jumps down from the counter and busies herself with the neglected tea. “Hi, sweetheart, how was your day?”

Arthur stood there, silent, glaring daggers at me. “Why? WHY? Why did you do this? Why did you tear my family apart?” I step toward the boy, defeated. I knew he would be upset, I just hoped I wouldn’t be here for the blowup.

“Arthur, I love your mum,” I say sheepishly. Even to me it sounds pathetic.

“I HATE YOU!” he yells before stomping up the stairs.

I look at Hermione and she rushes to follow her son. Before she leaves the kitchen she sends me a sympathetic look and mouths the words, “I’m sorry.”

Here I am sitting on a chair in my kitchen… alone. Why do I always end up alone? All I want is to make Hermione, Arthur and Candace happy. I love them all, but I think I just lost Arthur. I will wait until Hermione straightens everything out. Hopefully, she can. Until then, I will sit here with my head in my hands and wait.

15. Authors Note

Author’s Note

24 October 2003

I want to apologize for not updating sooner. I hope to have another chapter up by Monday. Right now I am on a roll with another fic “Love is Blind” and am almost finished with it, just two more chappies. So, you can see why I have not ventured back to this story, I want to stay focused and finish the other one. Thanks for your support and reviews.

To read any of my other stories, see my profile on ff.net –

http://www.fanfiction.net/profile.php?userid=363319

Or see my homepage -

http://www.geocities.com/coriander_ss/

Please keep your eyes open for more of “Anything for Love”

Next chapter – Ron’s POV – A Talk with Arthur

16. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

I kick the door closed and throw my briefcase, robes and wand on the couch. Today was the day from hell. I spent all day chasing after some muggle teenagers that found a wand and were trying to get the damned thing to work. It resulted in having to obliviate at least forty muggles after having to correct the disasterous magic calamities these youngsters caused. I have never seen hair that color before. The worst was having to explain to a man why he had a third leg, and I’m not talking the normal one either.

I step into my kitchen, bound for the refrigerator, looking for a butterbeer. As I turn around and open my bottle, I see Hedwig sitting patiently on my kitchen table. “Well, hi there, girl. Did Harry send you to give me a message?” She hooted indignantly and stuck out her foot. Testy little thing, isn’t she? I untie her burden and offer her a plate full of breadcrumbs. She takes a few bites, hoots and flies off.

After looking at the envelope, I realize it’s not from Harry at all; it’s from Arthur. I sit down and open it, taking a swig of my butterbeer.

Dear Dad,

Please come and get me. I don’t like it here. I want to live with you. Please come as soon as you can. I don’t think I want to stay here tonight. Please come. I miss you.

Arthur

I stare dumbly at the parchment. What the hell happened that is making my nine-year-old write me and ask me to come get him, not once, but three times in seven sentences? I take another swig of the butterbeer and prepare to apparate to 12 Grimmauld Place. I try to remind myself that nine-year-old boys tend to exaggerate a bit and it’s probably nothing. He probably had an argument with Hermione and it will blow over in a few hours.

I apparate into the living room. The house is quiet, eerily quiet. At the sound of a cup being set down heavily on a table, I venture into the kitchen. What I see there is not what I expected. Harry is sitting at the table, his eyes are bloodshot and he is staring at the grain of the tabletop. He doesn’t even notice me as I walk in.

“Hey, mate.”

He looks up halfheartedly. “Oh, hi Ron.”

“ ‘Oh, hi Ron,’ that’s all I get? Harry what’s wrong? You look like hell.” He snorts as I sit down across from him.

“Thanks for the confidence booster there, Ron.” He’s staring at the table again. Is there a naked lady portrayed in the grain or what?

I’ve known Harry forever, since we were eleven; close enough to forever for me. I know something is wrong, and I also know he is not going to divulge the information easily. “Harry, I know something’s up. We have been best friends for years, you can’t hide anything from me.” He looks up at me over the frames of his glasses. OK, so I’m full of shit, he caught me. “That, and I got an owl from Arthur.”

He sighs heavily. “He hates me.”

What? “No, Harry, he doesn’t hate you. You’re ‘Uncle Harry.’ He could never hate you.”

“He said so, right after he caught us kissing.”

“Oh.”

He looks up at me and I can see the turmoil in his eyes. Arthur has always looked up at Harry. He always wanted to be like Harry. Now… I can just imagine what’s going through my son’s head. “OK, when you say that he told you he hated you, what exactly did he say?”

I’ve seen that look before; many times, in fact. It’s the look that says, “Ron, you are the biggest idiotic prat in the universe.” Or in layman’s terms, “Duh!”

“He said he hated me. That simple. Three words… ‘I Hate You.’ He asked me why I tore his family apart.”

OK, here comes the guilt part that I feel for letting Hermione take the blame for this whole thing. I push down the guilt for a second, I need to know a few things before I go and talk to the boy. “And what did you say to that?”

Harry shakes his head and looks away. “I told him that I loved his mother.” He then turns his teary eyes toward me. “Stupid, huh?”

“No, not stupid. A little… hmmm… I can’t think of the word. But it’s not stupid. You do love her. You weren’t lying.” Harry is not the kind of man to cry openly in front of another man, even me. I think I have seen Harry cry only a handful of times, but I have never seen him this heartbroken. “I apologize, Harry. This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have let Hermione take all the blame. I know she was trying to protect me, but in the end its hurt the two of you.” I absently look around. I haven’t seen or heard Hermione or the kids since I got here. “Where is everyone else?”

He has seemed to recover his composure somewhat as he answers me. “Candace is napping. Arthur is probably in his room and Hermione is probably trying to talk to him.”

I know what I have to do. “Let me go see if I can fix this. What room is he in?”

“Remus’ old room.” I nod and go to straighten my mess up.

As I walk up the stairs, I hear faint crying. I round the corner and see the source of said crying. Hermione. My ex-wife. God that still sounds weird. She is sitting against the doorframe of Arthur’s room with her head resting on her knees. I kneel beside her and take her into my arms. “Shhhh. Hermione, I’ll talk to him.”

“Oh, Ron… he hates us. He won’t talk to me. He won’t even open the door…” I gently wipe her tears from her face and lift her to stand. “Hermione, go sit with Harry. Have a cup of tea. Let me handle this. It’s my fault, let me straighten it all out.” She smiled slightly at me. Even that small smile lifts my heart a bit. She nods and starts to walk away.

Suddenly she turns to me and says, “Oh, he locked me out. I couldn’t get the door open,”

I smile, “Alohamora.” The door clicks open and Hermione’s face falls.

“Damn, I didn’t even try that. I feel so dumb.”

“You taught me that charm, remember?” She nods defeated. “It’s all right Hermione, when you are upset, you tend to think like a muggle. It’s understandable.” I can’t help but smile as she shakes her head, ignoring me, and walks down the stairs.

I walk into my son’s room. I am shocked at what I see. His room is blue and plastered with the remains of a dozen Puddlemere United Quidditch posters. I assume the posters where whole this morning. There is one poster of Harry when he was a seeker that looks to still be intact. I look closer at it and realize it is indeed intact, but has quite a few darts sticking out of his face. This is not good, definitely not good.

Arthur is lying on his bed, refusing to look at whoever just entered the room. I clear my throat and he looks up slightly. “Dad!” he yells as he jumps off the bed toward me. His arms wrap around me and I guide him back toward his bed to sit.

“Arthur, what happened?”

Oh boy, he is just like me. His jaw is clenching and his blue eyes are burning with anger. “He happened.” He growled thumbing toward the Harry ‘target.’ “He’s the reason Mum left you, isn’t he?”

“Arthur…” this is going to be harder than I thought it would be. I open my mouth to say something and the boy cuts me off.

“Don’t defend him Dad. He’s not worth it. He probably just stole Mum from you to prove that he could. He…”

“Arthur Frederick Weasley! You will not talk about anyone that way. Harry is not to blame in this and neither is your Mum!”

“But Dad, she said you were separating because she was in love with someone else. It’s Harry, Dad. Don’t you see?” Dammit, he is just like me – stubborn, hotheaded, opinionated and blind. I feel sorry for whomever he decides to date when he gets older. They will be in for a rough ride if he takes after me in that department.

I take a deep breath and mentally count to ten. The boy is frustrating, now I know why Hermione would get so aggravated at me. “Arthur, let me finish. I am the adult here. Listen. If you cut me off again, so help me…” he sighs and looks down at the ground. All right what’s my line? Oh, yeah…

“Arthur, it is not, and I repeat NOT, your Mum or Harry’s fault that we divorced. It’s… m-mine.” There’s the stupid expression that Harry used to make fun of me about. His mouth is hanging open like a fish and his eyebrows are furrowed until it looks like there is only one of them. “Yes, you heard me right. It’s my fault.”

I hold up my hand to stop him from asking any stupid questions. I might as well lay it all out. He may only be nine, but he understands what I’m going to say. “Arthur, I messed up. I let your Mum take the blame, when I should have all along. You know when I was going on the business trips and was working late all the time?” He nods. “Not all of it was work.”

His eyes burn brighter and I can see the anger and hurt there. As I said, he understands. I hate doing this, but he needs to know. “I am the one who fell in love with someone else. There is this woman at work…”

“I don’t want to hear it Dad. You’re just doing this to save them. I know you were working. You’re lying.”

I move to sit next to him. My voice softens. “Artie, I’m not lying. Her name is Lavender. I am in love with her. I cheated on your Mum. I lied to you. I lied to Candi. I lied to everyone. Your mum found me out and confronted me. I love your mum, but I couldn’t hurt her or you guys anymore. I told her, she left me. It’s not her fault, it’s mine. Harry was just there to help her make it through. He’s her best friend.”

He looked up at me, his eyes were confused, hurt. “But Dad, I didn’t that think friends were supposed kissed. I saw them kissing.”

I smile at him. I can’t help it. My heart is breaking alongside his, but I can’t help but smile at him. “I know, son. Harry told me. When your mum said that she was in love with someone else, she was, and yes, it was Harry. They didn’t fall in love until after I had broken her heart. Harry was there to pick up the pieces and honestly, I am glad that he was. I couldn’t have picked a better person to take care of you and your mum.”

“Arthur, tell me, when was the last time you and I went flying?”

“I don’t remember.”

“When was the last time you and I went out together?”

“I don’t know.”

“Arthur, I messed up. I put everything else in front of my family. I hurt you. I deserve for you to hate me. Harry doesn’t deserve that. When was the last time he took you flying?”

“Yesterday.”

“When was the last time he took you out, just you and him?”

“Last week, we went to Florian Fortescues.”

“See. I’m not saying that I am altogether happy that he is a better dad than me, but he could be. I love you Arthur and you will always be my son. I will try to be a better father to you. Really, I will. But you need to give Harry a chance. He makes your mum happy. Have you seen her upset in the past few weeks? I mean really upset, like when I didn’t come home?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“Artie, Harry is not trying to replace me. But he wants to take care of you. He wants to be your friend. He loves your mum, and she loves him. Your mum needs you right now. This has been very hard on everyone, including me. But she needs you and Candi most of all. You are the reason she wakes up in the morning. You two are her life. If something were to happen down the road and she and Harry don’t work out. You will be all she has. She will always need you. Help her be happy.”

Arthur nods and wraps his arms around me. “I love you Dad.”

I squeeze him tighter. “I love you too, Son.”

“Why did you do it, Dad?’

Why did I do what? The boy is as stubborn as me, and temperamental as me and as inquisitive as his mother. Merlin, help me. I looked at him not quite sure what he was asking.

“Why did you cheat on Mum?” Oh, that’s what it is. Sometimes, I wish he were older, maybe it would be easier for him to understand.

“You can’t control who you fall in love with. I started seeing Lavender more and more and I fell in love. Your mum and I weren’t happy. We tried, we really did, but this was different. I understand if you hate me. If you don’t, I think you should.”

Arthur looks up at me, his blue eyes shining back at me. “I could never hate you Dad. You messed up But you’re right, Mum’s happy. Harry makes her happy. If Mum’s happy then so am I.

“So does this mean you don’t want to come live with me? Let me think on that one Dad. Mum needs me, right?” I nod. “Then I might as well stay, at least for a couple more days. Besides, you have work, you’re never home.” Ouch that stung a bit. I know I asked for it, he didn’t mean anything bad by it, but it still hurt.

I pull him into a hug. “I love you. Don’t ever forget that. I will try to be around more, but I think it would be best for your Mum, if I took a break for a while longer. All right?”

“Yeah.”

“Let’s go downstairs. I think we need to talk to some people.” I help him to stand up and we walk toward the stairs.

“Hey Dad?” I look at him and see a smile spread across his face. “Harry will always be Harry, but you will always be my Dad.”

I can’t help the stray tears that escape my eyes at his words. This is my son. He should hate me and he doesn’t/ I actually did something good, for once. Harry and Hermione deserve the happiness they have found. I know that Arthur and Candace are keys to that happiness. Harry may live with them, but as Arthur says, ‘I’ll always be their Dad.”

*

A/N – I apologize for the long delay. I have finished one of the longest fics I have written. It was my baby. Now it is grown and out in the world. This is my baby, now. I hope to be able to update more often.

This chapter was hard. I know it probably seems like Ron is OOC, or that it is unlikely that he would be so supportive of H/Hr. But Ron had cheated for 4 years, he made his bed, he must now lie in it. Why fight the inevitable?

Thank you for your reviews.

Next chapter may still be Ron’s POV. Maybe a split. I’m working on it as we speak. J

17. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

I am still in shock. I really don’t understand how I am still here. I thought Arthur would have laid into me after I told him the truth. He told Harry he hated him. I was waiting for him to say the same thing to me. I don’t deserve his love. Really, I don’t. I just guess that to a nine-year-old, your dad is your dad; he has his faults, but he’s still your dad and you love him anyway. I don’t think that Arthur and I will be as close as we could have been, but I know he still loves me and he knows I still love him. Whatever wall is built, we will be able to climb it in time.

He is quiet. It scares me. I know I should be feeling this way, but it’s still a bit disconcerting. I screwed up. I admitted it. Why is he not yelling at me? Why did he make sure I knew he loved me? I just don’t understand. I guess I shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth, but I can’t help but feel wrong that Arthur doesn’t hate me,

I walk in silence across the living room toward the kitchen, as I wait for Arthur to catch up, I hear a bit of the conversation on the other side of the door…

“I’m sorry, Hermione. I don’t want to pull you and Arthur apart.” I can tell that he is still upset. His voice sounds strained.

“Harry, stop this. Arthur will get over it. I need you right now. I can’t do this without you. I have never been happier and I want this baby to be…”

Baby? BABY? Holy shit, that’s not what I ever expected to hear. No wonder she was so upset about Arthur. Arthur! I turn around and see him standing behind me, waiting for me to open the door. I don’t know how long we have been standing there, but by the look on his face, it was probably too long.

“Arthur?” I ask hesitantly, testing to see if his is just annoyed at me or if he actually heard what I heard.

“C’mon, Dad. Why are we standing out here?” I am speechless. He didn’t hear it. Did he?

He starts to push past me, but I grab him before he can. “Why don’t you go wake up your sister. Let me talk to your mum for a minute. Maybe you and Candace and I can go out for dinner. OK?”

He jumps toward the stairs. “That sounds great, Dad. I’ll get Candi. We’ll be right down.” He bounds excitedly up the stairs, and I turn to enter the kitchen.

When I enter the room I look closely at the couple sitting at the table. Harry is sitting in the same place that I found him almost an hour ago and Hermione is leaning against him. His face is buried in his crossed arms, she has her arm wrapped around him and her forehead resting against his temple. They still haven’t noticed my presence. I softly pad over to the table and sit across from them. Only when I clear my throat, do either of them look up.

“Hi, Ron.” Hermione says softly. “How did it go?”

“I think it went all right. He knows what really happened. I don’t think he hates you anymore, Harry, but give him a little time to come out and say it.”

Harry nods into his arms before he looks up at me and says, “Thanks.”

“No problem mate. I know I messed up. I have apologized again and again, but I know that we are both happier now.” I catch Hermione’s smile out of the corner of my eye. “I just think it will take Arthur a little getting used to it.”

“Where is Arthur, anyway?”

I look at my beautiful wife, no ex-wife. She is beautiful and the more I look at her, I can see it in her eyes. She is glowing. I speak softly. “I wanted to talk to you two and sent him upstairs to wake up Candace.”

Hermione’s eyes cloud over slightly. “What do you want to talk to us about, Ron?”

I smile brightly. “Congratulations.”

“Excuse me? Congratulations for what?” Harry asked with raised eyebrows.

I look at my best friend and then back to my former love. They do deserve to be happy. I am not jealous. I am not upset. I am truly happy for them. Harry has always wanted a family. I am glad that our Hermione can give that to him. I look into Hermione’s brown eyes, “I heard a bit of your conversation. I know.”

She looks at me, a flash of shock passing through her eyes. “What are you talking about, Ron?”

I can’t help but laugh at her. Harry’s face is staring at me disbelieving. “Hermione, I heard you talk about the baby. I can see it in your eyes. You are glowing. Congratulations.”

Harry lets out a huge sigh. “Did Arthur hear?” I can understand his apprehension. Not two hours ago, my son hated him. Now you add this shocking news to the mix and all hell could break loose.

I shake my head. “No, I don’t think so. That’s why I sent him upstai…”

“Daddy!” I turn to look at my beautiful little girl, her red curls bouncing as she ran toward me.

“Hi, Candi cane.” She jumps into my arms and hugs me tightly. I miss my family. Why didn’t I realize it sooner? No, I can’t think about that. Hermione is happy with Harry and I am happy with Lavender. I just miss my kids.

“Are you taking us to dinner?” she asks sweetly. I look at the questioning looks on Harry and Hermione’s faces.

“Is that all right? I thought you might want some alone time. You know to talk about everything…” My eyebrows waggle of their own accord.

Hermione shakes her head and looks at Harry. She angles her head and raises an eyebrow at him. She is asking him a silent question. Maybe she’ll take me up on the offer of giving them some time.

“Why don’t we all go?” My jaw drops. What does she have up her sleeve? The small redhead in my lap smiles and nods enthusiastically, while the sandy haired boy by the door rolls his eyes.

I think Harry noticed it too. “Mione, I think Ron needs some time alone with the kids. They miss him. I think they need this.” Hermione looks at him and her shoulders slump slightly, but she acquiesces.

She looks at the kids and then back at me and nods. Her smile seems forced. I know she is apprehensive. Honestly, I would be disappointed if she wasn’t.

“Its only dinner and maybe ice cream, Mione. I’ll have them home by nine.” I look at her pleadingly, using those puppy-dog eyes that always get me what I want.

“All right, but no later than nine.” I smile at her as she tells the kids to get their shoes and jackets.

After the kids disappear through the door, I turn back to the couple across the table. I catch Hermione’s eye.

“Ron, are you sure you’re all right with this?” she motions her hands between herself and my best friend. I nod and wink at her. “I’m sorry Ron.”

“Oh gods, Hermione. Don’t apologize for anything. I know that it didn’t happen until after the papers were signed. I’m not upset at all. I am very happy for you. You both deserve all the happiness in the world. I am just glad that you both could find it. I apologize for hindering the inevitable longer than it should have been. You two should have been together at Hogwarts. I fell in love with you and when Harry wouldn’t take the chance, I jumped on it. I knew then, somewhere in my heart, that you two were meant to be.”

I can’t look at Hermione. I can see the tears welling in her eyes. Harry wraps his arm around her and she leans into him. I smile. “I think this baby is the luckiest child on earth. Not only will he or she have Candace and Arthur for siblings, but it’ll have you two for parents. I hope you’re better at it that I was, Harry.” My voice is scratchy and my eyes are burning. Where did that come from?

“Ron, you’re a good dad.” Harry whispers. I don’t think he can talk much louder with the emotions I can hear behind his voice.

I shake my head. “I screwed up, Harry. I hope over time, I can make up for it. But I know where I am lacking, you will pick up the slack.”

“Ron, I don’t want to take your place. I just want them to let me love them. I want to make them happy. If it ends up that they don’t want to live with me and rather live with you, I won’t stand in their way. You are their dad. That will never change and I never want it to.” He stands up and hugs me. Harry, Mr. Non-public-display-of-affection, Potter is hugging me. “Thank you for trusting me, Ron.”

“How could I not trust you, Harry? You have saved my arse more times that I care to count. I know you will treat my family well. Their your family now too.”

Suddenly another pair of arms wraps around the two of us. Harry and I let go enough to pull Hermione into the group embrace. This is the way it is meant to be. The trio. How it used to be. These two people have been with me through too many adventures for me to deny them anything. I would give them the world. If Harry would have asked for me to give up Hermione for him, it would have been hard for me not to. I would give him anything to show him how much he means to me. He is my brother. I have never thought him less than that.

“I love you two,” I say through my strained voice.

I hear a murmur from around my chest which I assume is Hermione’s reciprocation of my words. Harry pats me on the back and pulls away, “I love you too, mate.”

I can’t help but laugh when I feel little arms wrap around my legs. I lean down and pick Candace up. She hugs us and smiles. She is so sweet. Hermione kisses our daughter on the cheek and tells her to be good. Hermione kisses me on the cheek and thanks me.

I start to walk out the door with my daughter in my arms in search of my son. I am stunned stiff when I see him enveloped in Harry’s arms. I hear a soft, ‘I’m sorry,” and Harry musses up the boy’s hair. Harry nods at him and repeats to Arthur Hermione’s words to Candace. I smile back at them as I guide the kids out the door to dinner. This is the way it is supposed to be, were one big happy family. Disfunctional at best, but we’re family.

18. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

I sit down at the table as I watch my children and their father walk out of the kitchen. I am happy that Ron is trying, really I am. I just wonder why he didn’t try before. I know it has only been a few weeks, but it seems like it’s been months since we separated. I guess that is what my heart feels, anyway.

I am still in a state of shock at some of what Ron had said about Harry and I. Did he really think that we are meant for each other? Was he really happy for us about the baby? He seemed so sincere. Maybe Ron has finally grown up. It took him long enough. He seems like a totally different man than the one I was married to. I guess that’s just it, we’re not married. He is just Ron, my best friend. Granted, he is also the father of my children, but that’s beside the point.

It’s back to being Ron, Harry and Hermione, the trio. Is that what I want? No. I want it to be more like HarryandHermione with Ron on the side. Lavender can have him, really, just as long as I can still have him as my best friend. I have started to overcome my bitterness toward her. Ron is a teddy bear. He is one of the sweetest men you could ever meet. It’s not hard to fall head over heels in love with him. He will sweep you off your feet before you get a chance to blink. I loved him for a long time, I still do. But he never made me feel quite like Harry does.

Speak of the devil. Harry has moved over to sit next to me and hesitantly put his arm around my shoulder. I lean into him. It’s been a hard day. Exhausting. It’s only half past 6 and I am ready to head to bed. I am lulling off to sleep as we speak. Harry’s scent sends me into a bit of euphoria and I feel light, calm, safe.

His fingers run through my hair and bring me out of my reverie. “You all right, love?” he asks softly. I love his voice, low, raspy and dead sexy.

I nod into his chest. I can’t help but think that everything seems so perfect. I feel like I am in an alternate universe – Ron cheating on me, me being so understanding of his infidelity, Harry and I together, pregnant, my kids being supportive and somewhat forgiving of their father – I wonder what will be thrown at me next.

Many people, if faced with similar situations, would have thought it absurd to be over everything so fast, to be so accepting, so trusting. But, I guess I am not most people. Ron, Harry and I have been through more together than anyone else I know. We have looked death in the face and walked away. We have trusted our lives to each other more times than I can remember. The three of us have a strange bond. Isn’t that the understatement of the year? After facing so many things together and loving each other the way we all do, things tend to roll off your back easier.

Yes, I was hurt by Ron’s infidelity, but I knew that he loved me and wanted what was best for me. I know he shouldn’t have lied for so long. But I forgive him, how can I not? Because of him, I have Harry.

Looking back, if I hadn’t married Ron, and if I would have been with Harry from the start, I don’t think it would have worked out. Harry would have been too preoccupied with me when he needed to focus on Voldemort, and he most likely would have died instead. I would not have my children. Frankly, I wouldn’t be the person I am today. I don’t regret marrying Ron. I only regret that he and I let our marriage step in the way of our friendship. We were friends before we were husband and wife, but somewhere our friendship took a backseat. If our friendship would have stayed strong through our marriage, maybe he wouldn’t have gone to Lavender, maybe he still would have. Fates, karma, destiny all played a role in this. I thank whichever one made all this happen the way it did, because for the first time in my life, I am truly happy.

I look up into the brilliant green eyes of my lover. Is that what he is? My lover? No, he is so much more than that. He is my lover, my confidant, my rock, my savior, my best friend. He makes me melt every time I look at him. I pray that the two of us won’t make the same mistakes as Ron and I did. I don’t want to ruin the friendship in the trials of starting a relationship. My mind turns to our fate. We will be parents. A baby. Our baby. I guess I was subconsciously rubbing my belly, because I am brought out of my thoughts when Harry’s fingers intertwine with mine just over where our baby is growing.

“I’m scared, Harry.” I whisper before I even think it.

“I know, so am I. You have done this twice before, I haven’t.” I smile at him, and he smiles back. I love seeing his smile. He didn’t smile for so long during the war. I would pray some nights just to see a grin. I cherish every smile he gives me, even though they are not so rare anymore. I nuzzle into him and his lips brush across my hairline. Its amazing how we can sit so calmly together and not feel we have to fill the time with words. We have both been silent now for a few minutes and I finally register what he said.

“Just because I have done this twice before, doesn’t mean I’m not scared out of my mind. We faced Voldemort many times over, but having a baby seems to be the most scary thing I have ever experienced.” He looks at me questioningly. “I know, it sounds stupid. How can having a baby measure up to facing the darkest wizard imaginable? Well, when we fought in the war, there was the possibility of only two outcomes – either he would win, or we would. With a baby you wonder - will I know what to do? Will I be a good enough parent for them? How can I protect them from danger? Just think about what our parents thought about throughout the war. You’re mum and dad gave their lives for you. So did mine quite a few years later. Will we be as wonderful as our parents were? Will we be able to give them all they need? Harry, I have to think about what Candace and Arthur will feel about this. It’s not just m…”

“Hermione, we have to think about Candice and Arthur’s reactions. We are in this together, you and me. I love you, and your children, and our baby. I will do everything in my power to make it all work out.” I look into his eyes that are so full of love and trust. I want get lost in those eyes, to feel him, kiss him, love him. As if reading my thoughts, he comes closer and covers my lips with his. Our kiss is soft and sensuous, and my body immediately reacts to it.

Before I even realize what is happening, Harry has pulled me onto his lap. “I love you so much, ‘Mione,” he whispers between kisses. The now familiar burning radiates through my body at the sound of his voice and the feel of his lips grazing my neck. Right now, at this moment, all that matters is Harry. I love him more than anything I could ever imagine. We will make it. I know we will. Maybe Ron was right for once. Maybe Harry and I are meant to be.

His hands rub lightly up my sides to the swells of my breasts. I can’t help my body’s natural urge to press into his hands. Suddenly, with a few whispered words, my clothes disappear. I am left nakedly straddling a fully clothed Harry in the middle of our kitchen. It takes me a few moments to comprehend that he had just performed wandless magic. I try to make a mental note to discuss that with him later.

Speaking of magic, I can feel the magic surrounding us. I can see it. The air is sparkling, as if it were electronically charged. We have made love five times, one of which was just a few hours ago and I had never experienced anything like this. Whatever it is that is around us, it seems to have heightened every sensation that I feel. What would normally be a small tingle is more like a electronic shock. My skin is burning under his fingertips. My lips are savoring each fiery kiss. He grabs my hips and rolls me across the bulge in his lap. I whimper into his mouth at the feel of it. I want him.

My body is humming with arousal and I really think he has too many clothes on. My hands reach down and untug his shirt from his trousers. I hastily try to pull it over his head, pulling from our kiss only long enough to do so. I feel him chuckle into my mouth as I start to struggle with his zipper. He pulls away and whispers those Latin words again. In an instant he is gloriously naked underneath me. He grins, satisfied with himself and his powers.

I love magic, and I hate to think of living without it, but there are just some things that are more fun to use your hands for. I reach down between us and take him into my hands. He gasps as I start to stroke him. “Hermione, I don’t think he needs any help, I don’t think I can take it,” he confesses huskily into my ear.

I run my tongue lazily around his ear lobe, before whispering back, “I know love, I just love the feel of you hot and hard in my hands. I love to know that I have that affect on you. It amazes me how something can be so hard but yet velvety soft at the same time.” I know he loves the dirty talk. He had confessed that to Ginny when they were dating. Of course, being the woman that she is, she would tell her best friend these things. I smile inwardly as he grasps my hips and raises me slightly before lowering me onto him.

“Oh gods,” he growls at the feel of me wrapped around him. I love the growl. He doesn’t know what that growl does to me. Or maybe he does and uses it to his advantage. He wraps my legs around his waist as he balances us on the wooden kitchen chair. I know this can’t be comfortable for him, but he obviously doesn’t mind.

Harry’s hands are guiding my hips up and down so hard that when I come down, he is buried to the hilt and hitting muscles I never knew existed. Is that the G-spot? I had heard other women talk about it. I had read about it. But by gods, I never thought it would feel that damned good. I can’t suppress the scream that escapes my lips at the unfamiliar but more than pleasant feeling.

He is pounding me onto him and it feels wonderful. Harry has never been rough with me, and while this is not necessarily rough, it is much more aggressive than I am used to. Our movements are powerful and my large breasts are bouncing forcefully in his face. I absently reach up to grab them, not only to ease some of the strain from the abnormal activity, but I like to tease my nipples as I make love, it seems to send even more sensual energy down to where it counts most.

Before my hands are able to cup them, I feel Harry’s mouth on one, teasing, licking, biting. I throw my head back at the sensation of his teeth grazing my sensitive nipple and snake a hand up and cup the other breast, rubbing my nipple between my thumb and forefinger. He groans in between nibbles and his movements become more frantic. The feel of his pubic bone rubbing against my clit at each downstroke, is sending me to an oblivion at a rather fast pace.

My unoccupied hand wraps behind his head and tangles into his hair, pulling him further into my breast. I come suddenly and powerfully, his name echoing loudly from my lips. A few strokes later he follows me over the edge. I look down at his beautiful face. He is beautiful when he comes. His eyes are closed tightly shut, but you can tell that they are rolled back into his head. His lips are parted slightly and his cheeks are flushed.

Slowly he opens his eyes and catches me staring at him. “You are beautiful,” I whisper.

He shakes his head, “No, you are the beautiful one. You are so wanton and sexy. You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.”

I can’t help the blush that I know is creeping up my cheeks. I bury my head into his shoulder. His hands finally release my hips and one is absently running through my hair. His warm breath is near my ear. “See how good we are together, ‘Mione? We can do anything. And almost anything we put our minds to, ends up perfect. Our baby is going to be perfect, just like you. We can do this, and we’ll be damned good at it.”

He’s right. It seems that everything that Harry and I have ever done together, works out for the best – the potions test to get to the Philosopher’s Stone, maybe not the Polyjuice potion, but Sirius’ escape on Buckbeak, the DA, the final battle, our friendship, our love, sex… can’t rule out the sex. He is right, this baby will be perfect and with each other we can be wonderful parents.

I smile at him, expressing all my love through my eyes and that smile. “I love you so much Harry. You’re right. We have no reason to be so scared. We will be wonderful.” I kiss him sweetly on the lips and wrap my arms tightly around his neck. We sit there for what seems like forever on that little wooden kitchen chair, basking in our love, unabashedly naked and holding each other like our lives depended on it.

*

A/N – My homepage has been updated and moved. Please come see me at

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19. Chapter 17

I am standing outside of the loo listening to Hermione wretch. If its called 'morning sickness' why can it happen anytime during the day? Hermione and I were sitting in the kitchen, our naked bodies intertwined, when all of a sudden she jumped off of me and ran to the bathroom.

After a few more minutes, Hermione emerges with a dressing gown wrapped around her. I guess naked time is over then and I summon my dressing gown from upstairs. She looks so miserable with her flushed cheeks and bloodshot eyes, but just as this morning, she is still beautiful. She guides me into the kitchen and starts to pull out some pans.

"Is spaghetti all right?" she asks me.

I nod my head as I take the pans from her hands. "Let me, 'Mione. Go sit down and relax." She acquiesces and pads over to the table. She sits in the chair that we had just made love in, on, whatever. She smiles at me when I bring her a fresh cup of tea.

She hums slightly as she sips her tea. "Harry, how do you always get it right?" I look at her a quirk my eyebrow. With where my mind likes to dwell, that can be taken many different ways. She catches my drift and shoots me a glare. "Oh you! The tea, silly. You are the only one who knows how to make it right. Just a bit of cream and honey. You have yet to fail me."

I smile to myself as I break the spaghetti in half and place it in the pot. "After seven years of sitting by you in the Great Hall and twelve being your friend, I kind of picked up on it. Is there something wrong with that?" I can't help but tease.

"No," she sighs. "It just proves that we were blind all along. No one, not even Ron knows how I like my tea, except you. You know more about me than anyone, Mr. Potter. I think you might even know me better than I know myself."

I mentally agree with her. I probably do know her better than herself. "It's not my fault that you told me all of your dirty little secrets." She shuts up at that. She can't think of a comeback. I shake my head chuckling. The Great Hermione Granger is speechless.

I stir the noodles and the sauce to make sure nothing is burning. I know it's faster to cook with my wand, but cooking the Muggle way tastes so much better. Not only that, but I need to do something to occupy my hands, or I would be having her for dinner. If earlier was just the appetizer, imagine the main course. I need to stop that train of thought immediately or I will have a serious problem in the southern region of my anatomy.

I taste the sauce. Perfect. I bring a spoonful over to Hermione who sensuously licks the sauce from the tip of the spoon. Gods, she's going to kill me. "Mmmmmm, that's good," she says seductively. She really is going to kill me. She knows what turns me on, and she uses it to torture me.

I go back over to the stove and finish making our dinner. Now is when I use my wand. With a flick and a swish, spaghetti, sauce and cheese are on two plates that are already sitting on the table. Cooking is better the muggle way, but serving is definitely wizard's work.

We eat in silence. I can't help but watch her over the top of my glasses. She is beautiful and she is sexy. I never thought that spaghetti was a sexual food. Boy, was I wrong. The way she sucks the noodles between her puckered lips. The way her tongue darts out to catch the remnants of sauce on her chin. Oh Merlin! I either need to buy bigger pants, or not look at my girlfriend.

Girlfriend? That doesn't sound right at all. She is not my girlfriend. She is my lady. She is a lady, no denying that. But I want her to be so much more than that. She is already my lover, the mother of my unborn child, my best friend. What else do I want? I want her to be my wife. My heart leaps at that thought. To be able to wake up next to her every morning would be heaven on earth for me.

I know it's too soon to ask her. But when I do, I'm going to do it right. I can't go ask her father because he is gone. But it would feel wrong just to ask her and not get approval. Approval from who? The door to the kitchen opens and my question is answered. I need to ask Arthur and Candace's approval. I am doomed. I see fire burning in Arthur's eyes. I follow his gaze and notice that Hermione and I are still dressed only in our dressing gowns. Not a good thing.

Candace is now sitting in Hermione's lap and Arthur is standing in the door, glaring at me. Ron is standing behind him with a knowing smirk on his face. I want to smack that look of the git's face. I restrain myself when Hermione asks Arthur how dinner went.

"Fine," he said coldly.

"Where did you go?" she asks him.

He grumbled something and Ron slapped the back of the boy's head. "Arthur, I am sick of this. You will act like a human being or I will make you wish you were never born." A sense of pride wells up for my best friend. He has never stood up to Arthur this way. The night must not have gone very well.

I look over at Hermione and Candace. The tiny girl is asleep in her mother's arms. Hermione tries to stand with her and Ron grabs Candace before Hermione puts too much strain on herself and the baby. I walk over to him. I have a feeling he needs to talk a bit with Hermione about their son. I take Candace in my arms and thank him softly for not letting Hermione lift her.

As I start up the stairs I hear Hermione's voice, "Arthur Ronald Weasley, you go up to bed right now. No books, no paper, no lights. Go to bed!"

A few seconds later a grumbling nine-year old boy brushes past me. I slowly carry Candi to her bad and tuck her in. With a small kiss to her forehead, I let her sleep. As I start down the hallway to the stairs, I stop and face the young man who is standing in his bedroom doorframe. "Why aren't you dressed?" he asked me. How am I supposed to answer this?

"Arthur..."

"I'm not stupid or blind Uncle Harry. You say you love my mum. Well, I love her too, and I don't want you around. I don't hate you. I just don't like this."

I kneel down a bit so I am eye to eye with the angry boy. "What don't you like, Arthur?"

"You and my mum. She doesn't need you. She's got me and Candace, she doesn't need you." Tears were falling down Arthur's cheeks as he blinked fiercely to stop them.

I didn't know what to do, so I did what anyone else would do. I hugged him. After a few moments he relaxed a bit in my arms and his crying had slowed. I looked into his eyes and asked, "What happened tonight Arthur? I thought we were cool."

"She was there." That's all he had to say. I understand now why Ron was so angry with him. I understand why he is so against me right now.

"I take it, you don't like her?"

"No. She has less of a brain than my Viktor Krum action figure." I laugh. I can't help it. I sit on the floor and pull Arthur into my lap. For being mad at me, he sure doesn't seem like it now.

"Arthur, you have to remember that Lavender makes your Dad happy. Just like your Mum makes me happy. I love your Mum, Arthur. I love her and you and Candi. I hope that I can make her as happy as she makes me."

He looks down at his hands. "She deserves to be happy. You were right, Dad never made her happy. I can see the way she smiles when you are around. She is happy now."

I wrap my arms around him and rock him slightly back and forth. "Do you really love me, Uncle Harry?"

"Very much, Arthur."

"And you love Mum?"

"Hmm-hmm."

He looks at me as seriously as a nine-year-old can. "Don't ever make her sad. She has cried enough. Don't make her cry anymore."

"I can't promise that I won't make her cry, but I will try my hardest. Are we OK, now?"

He shakes his head. "No, I have to get used to this. But as long as you try, so can I."

He pulls away as if he just realized that we had been hugging ,and sticks out his hand. I shake it roughly sealing our pact. I usher him back into his bedroom. "Good night, Arthur."

"Good night." He turns back to me. "Oh, and Uncle Harry. Thanks," he says in such a small voice.

"Any time, Arthur." He closes the door and I am left in the hallways staring at where the smartest nine-year-old in the world was just standing. No he is not stupid, not even close. He knows what's going on. Although he has not accepted it, he is tolerating it. That is all I can ask for.

I head back downstairs to the kitchen. When I walk in, I find a frustrated Ron and an amused Hermione. I sit down between them and stare at my best friend. He messed up tonight. He wanted to gain his son's trust and show him that he still loves him. You can't do that when your mistress tags along.

"The kids met Lavender tonight," Hermione whispers in my ear.

"I heard," I whisper back. The shocked look on her face makes me chuckle. "Arthur told me."

"All right, how did we go from him hating you three hours ago, to him hating me?" Ron asked through his folded arms.

"Ron, did Lavender know you were going where you were going?" He shakes his head.

"How did you introduce her?" He looks up at me. I can see the pain in his eyes.

"I didn't have to. We were at Florian's and she saw me. She came up behind me, covered my eyes and said 'Guess who?' I turned around to warn her of the kids' presence and she kissed me. Right there in front of them. She kissed me. Arthur pushed himself between us and ran out the door. Candace just looked at me with her puppy-dog eyes. My heart broke at that moment. I grabbed her up and looked at Lavender and saw that she was crying. She kept apologizing to me. I have to go over and talk to her soon. She was so upset. She didn't mean to hurt the kids. I didn't either."

I lean over and place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "It's better that it's out now rather than waiting for it. I talked to Arthur a bit upstairs. He doesn't hate anyone; he just doesn't know how to handle this. Give him some time. All of us. If we don't throw it in his face, he will be more understanding." Hermione gives me a look and motions to her belly. "I know, easier said than done. But we have to try. I promised him that I would."

Ron sits up and nods defeated. "He's a good kid. He's smart. He would have cottoned on eventually. It's better this way." I can tell he is trying to convince himself more than us. "I'd better go check on Lav. She ran out of Florian's crying." He stood up. "I'll see you later." With a pop, he was gone.

Hermione's head dropped into her own folded arms. Her shoulders were shaking. I moved over to her and put my arm around her. "It's all right, love. We can do this." She looks up at me and instead of tears and red-rimmed eyes, I see her eyes sparkling and a huge smile across her face. She was laughing.

"He deserved it you know?" she says to me.

"I know, but I still feel sorry for him."

She nods, then wraps her arms around me. "I love you, Harry."

I love hearing those words come from her lips. I sigh deeply, content. "I love you too, 'Mione."

With a flick of the wand our dinner is cleaned up and we start to head upstairs. She stops at my bedroom door. I know this is where we part. I will be sleeping alone tonight. I close my eyes and sigh. I wish it were different.

She reaches a hand up and cups my cheek. "Someday soon, Harry. Sweet dreams." With a not-so-quick kiss she walks to her own room and disappears behind the door.

I turn and go into my own room, divesting of my dressing gown. I lie down in my bed, naked and wanting. Her words resound in my head, 'someday soon, Harry.' I pray it were sooner. I fist my pillow a few times and settle in for another restless sleep. I will never have a restful night's sleep, until I can fall asleep in her arms. Someday.

20. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

I lean back against the tree trunk, feeling the wind blow through my hair. I look down from the branch I am perched on and can see Candace chasing a butterfly. She is so young, she doesn’t understand anything that’s happening. I wish I was like her where I didn’t have to worry about anything. Where I wouldn’t have to wonder if I will make someone angry. Where I’m not afraid to speak my mind.

I know what’s going on. They think I’m too young to understand. I just wish they would tell me. I can see it in Mum’s eyes. She’s got that, I don’t know. They call it a glow, but she really isn’t glowing. Now, if I gave her one of Uncle Fred and Uncle George’s newest creations, yeah, she’d be glowing. But no, there’s just something different about her, a certain presence, I guess.

I can see it in Uncle Harry, too. I really shouldn’t be calling him ‘Uncle’ anymore, should I? Not if what I think is going on, is actually going on. I saw this all almost four years ago. I was five then. Mum was sick all the time, throwing up almost every morning, just like she has been for over a month now. When she wasn’t getting sick, she would have this sparkle in her eye and a smile on her face. She was always smiling, kind of like she has been lately. She and Dad would talk sweetly to each other and they would rub her stomach and giggle. Just like she and Harry have been doing for a few weeks.

I know what’s happening. It happened this way before Candace was born. I’m going to be a big brother again. I’m not sure how to feel about this. I know that Unc… Harry is the baby’s dad. What am I then? We have the same mum but different dads. Will it still be my brother? Yeah, I know it’s a boy. I have this talent, if you want to call it that. I somehow, just know what a baby will be. I was right with Candace and have been right with every one my cousins, and that’s a lot!

Mum doesn’t know that I know. I think she’s afraid to tell me. I can understand why, looking back at the way I’ve acted since I caught Harry and Mum kissing in the kitchen. I don’t hate him. I really don’t. I love him. I like living here with him. I like the way he makes Mum laugh. I like the way he treats Candi and me like we belong here. It took me a while to get used to this, and I’m still not completely accepting of the situation, but I know I can’t change it.

Honestly, I don’t think I would change it. We have been living here for almost two months now, and I don’t think that Mum has yelled at us or cried at all in those two months. Well, except when I was being a spoiled brat. Yeah, I admit it. I was being a spoiled brat. I always thought that Mum and Dad would just work everything out like they always did before. But when I met her, Lavender, I knew that Dad had told me the truth and that they weren’t going to get back together.

I fought it tooth and nail. For a few weeks I made that woman’s life hell. Oops, I shouldn’t have said that word. But that’s what it was. I was mean and nasty and awful. I had raided my Uncles’ experiment closet when I stayed with them a few nights and used most of my arsenal on her. I think she had pink hair for four days and was spitting out yellow feathers for two. It was so much fun.

But Dad made me pay. I was grounded for two weeks at both houses, no television, no wireless, nothing but homework, eating and sleeping. But honestly, it was all worth it. Harry came up to give me a lecture the night Dad sent me home. He tried to yell at me, he really did. He just couldn’t do it. He told me how he wished he could have done some of those things to his cousin when he was my age.

Harry and I have come pretty far in the past few weeks. He loves my mum, and makes her happy. So, for that, I am happy. He takes me flying all the time. He even bought me a broom last week so we could fly together. Mum’s old broom was so slow that I could never keep up with him. But now we can race and I have almost beat him a couple times. He’s helping me learn to be a seeker, but I think I might be a better beater, like Uncle Fred and Uncle George. Maybe I can be a keeper like Dad. I’ve got a while to decide, but Harry says if I keep it up, I might be able to make the team in my first year at Hogwarts like he did.

I always knew that Harry was ‘THE Harry Potter.’ Mum had told us all the stories when we were little. She would tell us about how Voldemort tried to kill him as a baby, and about all their adventures at school. She told us how they finally killed Voldemort and stuff like that. She also told us about Harry. How he grew up in a cupboard at his Aunt and Uncle’s house. How he was beaten up at school and made fun of. How he had lost so many people in his life. I used to wonder how anyone who had gone through so many bad things could smile at all. But looking back, I never really did see him smile that much until he got with Mum.

I look down at my sister chasing the butterflies; there are now three. She is so happy, laughing and running around. Something catches my eye and I look to see Mum coming out of the back door. She walks over to Candi, kisses her and Candi runs inside. I know she’s coming for me now. She knows my hiding place. I look down to the base of the tree and Mum is starting to climb the small ladder steps that Harry added a few weeks ago. She can’t climb the tree. What if she falls? What about the baby?

“Mum, no!” I scream down at her. She looks up at me confused. “You can’t climb up here. I’ll come down.”

“Arthur, I have climbed this tree many times, why am I not allowed now? Are you hiding something up there, young man?”

I started climbing down two steps at a time. “No Mum. It’s only a plain branch. I’m not hiding anything. You just don’t need to be climbing up the tree.”

“And why not?” I know where I get my stubbornness from.

I can’t tell her that I know about the baby. Can I? “You just can’t Mum. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

She cocks her head and looks at me funny. “Are you all right, Arthur?”

“Yeah, Mum, I’m OK.” I’m out of breath from climbing down so fast. “You wanted me?”

Her eyes are still looking at me, trying to figure out what I’m trying to hide. “I wanted to talk to you and Candace. Come inside.” She wraps her arm around me and pushes me toward the house. I can’t help but smile as she looks back up the tree, trying to see if I am hiding something up there.

I know what she wants to talk about. I look over at her, her belly has gotten a little bit bigger. I know she’s not fat. I know it’s the baby. I close my eyes and see the blue haze behind my eyelids in the shape of her silhouette. That’s how I know if it’s a boy or girl. That’s how I am sure that she is pregnant. I knew my teacher was pregnant before she did. It took me a while to see Mum’s color because all of my emotions about what was happening blocked it. I never took the time to just close my eyes while I was looking at her. If I did, I would have noticed it.

I open my eyes and she is staring at me, here eyes are huge. “You know what I want to talk you about, don’t you?”

I nod and look at my feet. “How long have you known, Arthur?” she asks as she looks down at me. She doesn’t have to look too far down, I’m almost as tall as her already. I look up at her and try to remember when I first noticed the change in her.

“Almost three weeks.”

She lets out a sigh. I’m not sure if she is relieved or if she is frustrated. Probably both. “Three weeks?”

I nod. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you ask me?” she asks me. I can see tears forming in her eyes. She doesn’t need to be sad. I didn’t do anything wrong, did I?

“I already knew. I wanted to hear it from you. I know Harry’s his dad. I’m not upset. I kind of like the idea of having a little brother. He will be my little brother right? I mean with Harry being his dad and all…”

She is looking at me like a codfish. Her mouth is gaping open, and she looks rather funny. I chuckle at her lightly. “Br- brother?” she asks.

“Yeah, it’s a boy Mum. I hope you didn’t want to be surprised. I’m sorry if you did, I didn’t mean to let it slip.”

She hugs me hard. Its almost painful, but I love it when Mum hugs me like this. The back door opens and I see Harry carrying Candace on his hip. “Is everything all right out here?”

Mum look at him. He looks at me when he sees the tears rolling down her cheeks. “Harry, he knows. He can see it.”

Harry looks back and forth between Mum and I. I can see the shocked look in his eyes. “I forgot he could do that,” he says. I remember when I told Aunt Ginny and Uncle Draco that they were going to have a girl. Harry didn’t believe me, but when Annie was born, I was proven right. He had heard from everyone else about my predictions of their babies. I am at 100% correct, so far and I have no doubt that I am right with this one too.

Mum nods at Harry. I’m not sure why at first, but when Harry looks at me, I can see the question in his eyes. Before I can say anything though, Candace yells, “It’s a boy!”

21. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

I think my head is going to explode. Really. There were so many things revealed tonight that I don’t think my brain can handle any more excitement. Well, at least telling the kids about the baby was easy. I am still in shock that Arthur had known all this time and never said anything. At least I know he’s not upset about it. I was so afraid that he would yell and scream and hate me. Here I am, walking into a ready-made family and immediately I get his mother pregnant. I don’t know how I would react to this situation at nine years old. Hell, if I were in Arthur’s position, my temper would be going through the roof. I totally understand why he hated me almost 5 weeks ago.

Candace seems all right with everything too. When she blurted out what Arthur was about to say, I almost dropped her from my hip. It’s strange enough that Arthur has such a strong power at such a young age, but for Candace to have shown such strong magic at three, floored me. I don’t know what I was more shocked by, the fact that they knew about the baby or the fact that Candace did what she did.

No, Candi doesn’t have the same power as Arthur. She seems to be able to read minds. She knew what Arthur was about to say before it reached his lips. She had known about the baby, too, but never said anything. I think she was confused. I don’t think she knew what she was seeing. That explains why she has been so supportive of my relationship with Hermione. She knew from the start that I loved her mum. She is only three, and emotions are so different at that age, she doesn’t know how to take a lot of things. That’s why she never said anything. She just knew it.

Hermione is putting them to bed as we speak. She had almost fainted when Candace said that the baby was a boy. Obviously, Arthur had already told his mother, but I don’t think she was expecting Candi’s exclamation. We knew that her children would be powerful, with the fact of their parents being two-thirds of the trio that defeated the darkest wizard known to mankind. I guess no one thought that it would show up this way. We were waiting for her toys to go floating through the air or her making things fly off the bookshelves. No one expected her to be an empath.

After the surprise of it all, the four of us gathered around the kitchen table discussing the baby. My son. I can’t help but smile at the fact that I’m going to be a dad. My baby boy is inside Hermione’s womb. My heart overflows at the thought and I need to fight back the brimming tears in my eyes. I guess I am a sap, after all. The most powerful wizard in a century is a blubbering softie.

I have never felt such love as I feel for the three-and-a-half most important people in my life. I love Candi and Arthur as if they were my own. They look like Ron and are definite Weasleys, but they will always be Potters in my heart. The Potters. That sounds good doesn’t it? Mr. and Mrs. Harry Potter. Mrs. Hermione Potter. Ooh, I like that one. I wanted to propose to her on her birthday last week, but I chickened out when it came to asking Arthur. I thought he would be angry at us, well, at me specifically for even asking. I think he might be a bit more understanding now.

Both of the kids are excited about the baby. It was so cute when Hermione stood up to take them to bed, Candace hugged her mother and nuzzled the bump of her mum’s belly. It was such a wonderful moment, I think Hermione wanted to cry. I almost did. Arthur smiled at his sister and then hugged his mother too. That boy keeps amazing me day after day. He is so accepting of this now. I know it’s been hard for him, but I think the idea of a baby brother is helping him along. Before he went up to bed, he even came up to me and hugged me fiercely. I told him I loved him and he said it back.

This is my family, as dysfunctional as it is, it’s mine. I think I might talk to Arthur on Saturday about proposing to Hermione. I went to Gringotts last week and found my mother’s ring. I’ve been stashing it in my sock drawer. I just hope Hermione doesn’t get through the wards when she tries to put my laundry away. I may have to find a different hiding place. Mental note to do that as soon as possible.

But, as I was saying, I might talk to Arthur on Saturday. I am taking him to a Puddlemere game. I’m going to introduce him to all my old teammates, get him some autographs, maybe take him to his uncles’ shop and Honeydukes before we come home. I know Hermione hates it when I let him load up on sugar and Wheezes, but I never got the chance to be a kid. I guess I am living vicariously through him. I might ask him while we’re at the game, or after, I don’t know.

“Harry?” Ah, my beautiful lady has returned from putting the children to bed. “You all right?”

“Perfect,” I say as I pat the cushion next to me for her to sit down.

“Sickle for your thoughts.”

“Oh, I’m not sure if they’re worth quite a sickle, maybe a knut, but not a sickle,” I tease. I can’t help but tease her. She is so beautiful when she is aggravated.

She sighs heavily as she leans up against me and I put my arm around her. I marvel at the way she fits perfectly against me. I do believe we were made for each other, no doubt in my mind.

“Well, tonight was interesting,” she says, bringing me out of the daydream I was having about she and I fitting together perfectly in so many other ways. Wink, wink.

“I think, interesting is an understatement, love.”

I see her beautiful smile creep up out of the corner of my eye. “I love it when you call me that.” I look at her confused for a moment before I realize what she means.

“What? Love?”

She nods. “But that’s what you are. My love. What else would I call you?” Her brown eyes meet mine and I see that sparkle in them. She is beautiful.

“I don’t want you to call me anything else.” She whispers alluringly to me. I make a vow now that I will never call her anything other than ‘Hermione,’ ‘Mione’ or ‘Love’ for the rest of my days.

“Anything for you, love,” I whisper in her ear before I kiss her lightly underneath her ear. She moans at the kiss. I love hormones, especially when they make her the wanton woman she has become since she became pregnant. I know that sometimes the hormones take her to the other end of the spectrum, but these times make up for the rest.

I take her in my arms and carry her to my room. Our room. That was another thing that was discussed tonight. Hermione asked Arthur if he would be upset if Hermione slept in my room. The boy is not stupid. He knows about the baby. He knows in a round about way where babies come from. I couldn’t believe she asked him that. Then she said it was because of the dreams she sometimes has. I guess she used to have nightmares and Arthur took it at that. I have to remind myself to ask her about that later.

As we reach our room, she lets her leg swing out of my arms and stands in front of me. Her lips are suddenly on mine and she is pulling me into the room. Somehow the door shuts behind me. I am not sure exactly how it shut; my mind is a bit occupied on the beautiful woman whose tongue is tangling with mine. She makes my body burn, tingle all over. I love that feeling.

I’m not sure if she guided me to the bed or if I guided her, but I find myself lying underneath her across my large mattress. We have made love almost everyday for the past two weeks, so she is not acting out of desperation, but the forcefulness is new. I think I like this side of her. She pulls away from my kiss as she rips open my shirt causing buttons to fly across the room. There is a feral look in her eye that I’m not sure how to take. This has got to be the hormones. Yeah for hormones!

Oh, gods. Her mouth is on my nipple and… OW! She bit me. I can’t believe Hermione just bit my nipple and that I liked it. I briefly wonder who this seductress is and where she came from, but the things she’s doing to me, makes me forget how to think. Her hot mouth is trailing kisses down my stomach toward… Oh Gods! Where did my clothes go? I have no idea how I got naked, but I am and she is moving ever southward.

Damn she’s good at that. Her lips are around my erection and she is licking me like a lollipop. My body shivers from pleasure and I tangle my fingers in her hair. I try to pull her up to my arms, but she will not relent. I don’t know how much more I can handle of this. Her mouth is doing delicious things to me and her hand is massaging my balls.

HOLY…! She just put a finger in my ass. God, it hurts but feels oh so good. I am not sure what to think. Hell, thinking is highly overrated at this moment. I hear my voice proclaim my love for her as my body tenses and fills her mouth. She continues to suck me dry and my body fells like it’s going to just die right here from the sensations rippling through it.

After a few moments I open my eyes to see a pair of fiery brown orbs staring at me. I can see the intensity in them – all the love, desire, lust, and passion that I know are mirrored in my own eyes. I pull her down to me and kiss her passionately. She feels so good in my arms. I want to show her how much I want to make her happy, how much I want to please her. I roll us over and stare into her beautiful eyes. I can get lost in her eyes. I have to try very hard to keep my focus on the task at hand.

I reach down between us, running my hands softly over where my baby is growing, down to the dark curls covering her sex. I absently wonder when or how she lost her clothing, but soon realize I don’t really care how she did, just that she is gloriously naked lying beneath me. My fingers delve into her folds. I sigh deeply at the feel of how wet she is. I did that to her. Me. A sense of pride swells through me at the idea that I can make her quiver with only a few kisses and caresses. I smile inwardly at the moan that escapes her lips as I find the bundle of nerves hidden in her folds. I gently rub circles around it and I can feel her start to tense beneath me.

I want to prolong her orgasm as much as I can. I let up on her clit and get a groan in response. Oh just wait, my dear. I’m not finished yet. I cross two of my fingers and press them into her core. She gasps as my fingers fill her. Her hips jerk forward and we start a rhythm that we have practiced to perfection.

“Oh, Harry. Please…” she rasps out just loud enough that I can barely hear her. My pace increases as does the pressure. She feels so tight around my fingers that my renewed arousal is starting to get jealous. I want to bury myself in her. I want to feel her surrounding me. I want to make her scream my name in ecstasy. I slowly remove my fingers, earning yet another disgruntled groan, and crawl up the bed to her.

I swiftly enter her, both of us chanting the other’s name. I am in heaven. This is where I belong; with her, loving her, pleasing her. She was so close before, that in a few strokes she is contracting around me, screaming out her pleasure. The sound of my name escaping her lips in such a state brings my impending climax that much closer. It doesn’t take me long to have her falling over the edge again and this time I follow her.

Our bodies glisten in the moonlight shining through the window as we hold each other. She plants butterfly kisses over my face, neck and chest. “I’m sorry,” she says. Sorry? What the hell is she sorry for? I ask her as much.

“Sometimes, I just can’t control my hormonal surges and have to do everything in my power to relieve them.” I smile at her. Anything that results in pleasure like that has no reason to be apologized for. I love her hormonal surges. She has them because of the baby in her belly. My baby. My son. Our son.

I run my hand across her growing womb and look into her eyes. “Love, I am more than happy to oblige.” My lips gently meet hers in a soft passionate kiss. We curl up beside each other, our breathing finally settling and evening out. I kiss her hairline and whisper against her skin, “I love you, Hermione.”

When she doesn’t respond I look down and she that she has fallen asleep. She is so beautiful that I am captivated. I watch her sleep for a few moments. I am not sure how long I stared at her sleeping form before I fell asleep on my own. I slept that night, with the love of my life in my arms, and the smell of her enveloping me. Needless to say, it was probably one of the best nights sleep I’ve had since she and the kids moved in with me. I pray that I never have to sleep alone again.

22. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

This is awesome! I’m sitting in the front row of the Puddlemere stands watching them beat the snot out of the Wimbourne Wasps. I’ve never been to a professional quidditch match before. This is more than I ever imagined. The score is Puddlemere 90 and Wimbourne 60. The snitch has gone by a few times and I hear Harry grumbling about how slow their new seeker is. Well, no one is as good as Harry was.

“Dive, damn you! It’s right there, you bloody moron!”

I can’t help but laugh at him. There’s been a couple of times, I thought he was going to jump out of the stands, kick the seeker off his broom and go after the snitch himself. I remember watching Harry and Uncle Charlie flying after the snitch at Grandmum’s house. He really is the best. No offense to Uncle Charlie, he’s pretty good too. But Harry Potter is probably the best seeker to ever play the game. I know I will never be a seeker. My eyes aren’t good enough and my reflexes aren’t fast enough. I think being a beater like Uncle Fred and George is more my style.

I get drawn back to the game as Harry stands up and shouts another string of curses that my mum would hex him for saying in front of me. I see the Puddlemere keeper holding his arm at a strange angle and wonder what happened. The game is too bloody fast for me to keep up with. I pull lightly on Harry’s jumper. “What happened?” I ask as he looks down at me.

Harry sits back down. His body is stiff. He looks angry. I chuckle at the way he takes this game so seriously. It’s just a game. “You see the Wasps’ beater over there? The big one?” He points and I nod. “He was real close to the keeper and slammed a bludger right into him, followed by his bat. It looks like they’re taking Moray out. But that’s all right, Williams isn’t bad. As long as he had some practice this week. If he doesn’t keep hi…”

I start to tone Harry out. I smile and nod every so often. I love quidditch, I do. But when you get him, my dad or my uncles going, they won’t shut up. I guess I’m still too young to really ‘appreciate the sport,’ as Mum would say.

I could care less about the game. I just like being here, with Harry. It’s still hard sometimes, but I’m handling it all. I’m not really sure what to think about Lavender. She’s a nice lady, I guess. And she makes Dad happy, but she tries too hard with Candi and me. She’s always talking to us in that high-pitched baby-talk voice. That may be all right for Candace, but I’m nine! I’m not a baby.

Harry treats me like a man. Well, as close to a man as I can be. Harry lets me be me. He doesn’t talk down to me, like I’m stupid. He laughs at the same jokes I laugh at. He talks to me like we’re the same age. He said he brought me out today to talk to me. If this game keeps going like it is, we won’t be able to talk for three days.

I look over the edge of the stands and try to bring myself into the flow of the game. I see the quaffle… Jackson passes to Hunt, who passes it back to Jackson… oh bloody hell, oops! I have to stop talking like Dad. Mum’s gonna kill me. Well, there goes any chance of me trying to keep up with the game. I sit back and watch as the seekers dive again toward the flying golden shimmer. They drop below the line of stands and I can’t see them anymore.

“Woo Hoo!!”

With that, I guess the seeker finally caught the snitch. The next thing I know, he picks me up and puts me on his shoulders cheering “P-U-D-D-L-E-M-E-R-E PUDDLEMERE! YAY!” I can’t help but laugh. I am having so much fun with Harry.

As we climb down the stairs he asks me if I’m ready for some ice cream. Who is he kidding? Like I could ever say no to ice cream. He pulls a spoon out of his pocket. Why does he have a spoon in his pocket? Before I can ask him, he places the spoon in my hand and I feel a tug near my bellybutton. A portkey! Of course, an ice cream spoon.

I finally feel my feet hit solid ground and Harry’s arms are around me, steadying me. “You all right, Arthur?”

“Yeah, just don’t let me do that after I eat. UGHHH!” I roll my eyes and groan like I’m going to be sick and Harry laughs. He puts his arm around me and guides me into Florian Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlor.

After ordering our ice cream from a chubby Italian man, Harry and I sit at a table outside. It’s a pretty day. The sun is shining and it’s not too cold. I look around Diagon Alley at all the shops. I have only been here a few times. I can’t wait to come here and buy my Hogwarts supplies, just two more years to go. I’m almost half way through with my pumpkin ice cream when Harry clears his throat, I think to get my attention. He looks weird, like he’s constipated or something. “Harry?”

“Oh, sorry Arthur. I – uh…”

“Are you all right?” His face is all red and he’s sweating a little. I wonder if he’s having an allergic reaction to the ice cream. I know I look like that when a bee stings me.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just – uh – wanted to – uh - talk to you about something.” Can the man stutter any worse? Why is he so nervous?

I take a bite of my ice cream and look at him expectantly. “OK, shoot.”

Harry closes his eyes for a moment and he looks like he’s going to cry. I don’t think I have ever seen Harry like this before. It is kind of scaring me. He takes a deep breath and looks at me.

“Arthur, you know I love your Mum, right?”

“Mmm-Hmmm” I nod with a mouthful of ice cream.

“Well, I wanted to ask you… if… um…” Well get on with it man. “Arthur, I want to marry your Mum.”

The spoonful of ice cream I just put in my mouth is now on the front of Harry’s jacket. I was not expecting him to say that. He could have at least prepared me. Well, I knew this was coming, with the baby and all. I just wasn’t expecting it today. Harry waves his wand and the mess is gone. He looks at me again. He looks so hopeful, like Candace does when she wants my last chocolate frog.

“Arthur, will you let me ask your Mum to marry me?”

I don’t understand him. Why is he asking me for permission to ask Mum? “Huh?”

The look of confusion on my face must trigger something in Harry’s brain. “Well, tradition says that you ask the girl’s father for permission before you ask her. And, well, since your Mum’s father is gone, I go to the next in line as man of the house. And that would be you.”

I try to hide the smile creeping on my face. I want him to marry Mum. I want to be a family. I’m not sure if I want Dad to marry Lavender, but we’ll cross that bridge later. I want Harry to squirm a little. I live for this. “What happens if the father says, ‘no’?”

Harry’s face falls and he starts scratching the back of his neck nervously. He can’t look me in the eye. I am so mean. “Um… I guess, you can’t ask her, if her dad says ‘no.’” He looks up at me and I can tell he’s not sure how to take my cold attitude. “If you aren’t ready for this Arthur, it’s all right.” He says that but I know better. I can hear it in his voice. I know he wants this. I know Mum wants this. I stay quiet, pondering what I should say. Harry is getting more nervous. He’s starting to fidget in his chair. I chuckle to myself. This is just what I was going for. I take a deep breath, but before I can say anything, Harry has started into full-blown panic mode.

“Arthur, I am in love with your mother. I love you and Candi like you were my own. I want the baby to be close to his brother and sister. You know I would never do anything to hurt your Mum, if that’s what you’re afraid of. But I will understand if you don’t want me to ask her, but I want you to think about what would make your Mum happy and thin…”

I start laughing. I can’t hold it in anymore. Harry looks so pathetic. “Harry, it’s OK.”

“What?”

“I was just playing. I think its great. I know Mum will say yes.”

I suddenly find that I can’t breathe, probably due to how hard Harry is hugging me. I like being hugged and all, but we’re at a table, outside in the middle of Diagon Alley. “Uh, Harry… Harry…”

He finally lets me go. I look frantically around to see if anyone noticed us. I prayed not. Harry apologized for being so emotional. I think I’ll let it slide this time. I did torture him a bit, didn’t I? The mood is a bit lighter now. Harry seems much more relaxed. We sit and finish our ice cream, as we laugh and talk about the Puddlemere game today.

The sun is starting to go down when we finally head home. We flooed from the Leaky Cauldron to Grimmauld Place. I really hate to floo, even worse than portkeying if you ask me. The queasy feeling I get in my stomach when I spill out of our fireplace makes me head straight for the loo.

I hear Mum laughing and saying something that I remind her of Harry. I will have to ask him about that. I don’t mind being compared with Harry. I kind of like it actually. After my stomach calms down I walk out into the common room to see Candace playing exploding snap with herself, and Mum curled up against Harry on the sofa. It seems so perfect. I guess this is what a family does. I don’t remember what was like when Dad was home. He was never really home. This is kind of nice.

I step up to where my sister is trying to build a castle of exploding snap cards. I see it start to smoke and pull her away before the whole thing explodes. She obviously thinks its funny, because she starts laughing.

“What is so funny?” I tease her as I start tickling her mercilessly. I don’t hear her answer because she is laughing so hard she can’t breathe. I let up on her a bit and hug her. She’s my little sister and I love her.

“I love you, too Artie.” I forgot she could do that. I smile at her and start to pick up the cards and deal them out. As Candi looks at her cards, I look up to see Mum and Harry smiling at us. Yeah, I like this. This is the way it’s supposed to be.

23. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Gods, I look fat. I am naked, standing sideways in front of my mirror. I look fat. I know that it’s the baby, but I’m at that stage where I’m showing but not enough to tell a stranger on the street that I am indeed with child. I look horrid. My skin is oily. My hair is frizzy, not just bushy, but frizzy. I look like an electrocuted beached whale. That about sums it up. No, I’m an electrocuted beached whale with oily skin. Hmph.

My gaze moves over to where Harry is walking in from the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist while he’s towel-drying his hair. He is so sexy. At that moment, he drops the towel from his head and flashes me that heartstopping crooked smile. His hair is messier than usual, his eyes are sparkling, his skin glistening from the water lazily trailing down his body. Ugh. I don’t know what it is about that man that makes me turn into a bowl of jelly, but Gods, don’t ever change it.

He comes up behind me and rests his chin on my head. I turn to look at our reflection. We look good together - the sexy Adonis and the beached whale. I meet his gaze in the mirror. “You all right, love?” I love when he calls me that.

Before I even think of another response, I ask, “Harry, am I fat?”

Oh gods, did I just ask him what I think I just did? Damn these hormones. I know that’s what it is. I look at the mirror again. Why is he smiling? I half want to slap that smile off his bloody face. He’s still smiling. You better answer my question, Mr. Potter.

“Love, you’re not fat. You are beautiful.” Yeah, whatever. He runs his hand softly down my naked belly. “’Mione, you are pregnant. There’s a baby in here. Our baby. You look beautiful. You’re hair seems fuller and its getting longer from the vitamins. And you seem to have this glow about you. You’re gorgeous.” Glow? Yeah, that’s the light reflecting off my oily skin.

I roll my eyes as he smiles again. He better stop mocking me. I swear I will hex him. I push away from him and start to get dressed. He just stands there and watches me. He is watching me like I’m some scantily clad dancer or something. Not quite. I’m almost four months pregnant, with varicose veins, stretchmarks, sausage fingers and a face that looks like I got beat up.

“What?” I ask him irritably.

“Just admiring the view, love.” That smile will be the death of me. Really.

I finish getting dressed and he is still standing there in a towel. “No matter how much I love to see you in next to nothing, are you going to get dressed anytime soon? We have to be at Healer Morningstar’s office in ten minutes.” Men. Driven completely by testosterone. I look at the tent being made of the towel. All I was doing was getting dressed and he’s turned on. My god.

I leave him to dress and I waddle downstairs for some tea, herbal of course, a little cream a little sugar. I sip it slowly as I wait to hear Harry’s footsteps on the stairs. Harry. If you would have told me four months ago that I would be pregnant with Harry’s baby, I would have laughed my arse off. But, you know what? I wouldn’t have it any other way. I have never felt happier in my entire life. I don’t ever remember being this sick before, but I am happy.

My pregnancy with Arthur was easy; nine uncomplicated months ending one day before the due date. I only had 5 hours of labor. Easy. Candace was a different story. She was born two weeks early and a knot in her umbilical cord. We almost lost her, but Healer Morningstar worked his magic, so to speak. He had her out in less than thirty seconds. After a shaky few moments she pinked up and cried.

This one I think is going to be my hellion. I have been sick for three months straight. I am swollen and I’m showing already. I know the conception date is right. That was the only time I had sex in six months. How can I doubt that? I hope the healer will be able to tell me what’s going on today. My hormones are out of whack. I am so damned emotional. I swear I cried at not finding a match to a sock yesterday. I feel like I am losing my mind.

I hear Harry before he enters the kitchen. He is whistling. How can he be so damned cheery? He makes me sick sometimes. I love him, but he still makes me sick.

“Ready to go, love?” I nod and dump the tea down the drain. He wraps his arms around me and we apparate to the Healer’s office. I can’t apparate by myself, being pregnant and all. Don’t want to get splinched, you know.

Harry goes to the desk and checks us in. I look around at all the very pregnant women in the room and realize that I’m still small, comparatively speaking. Well, that can go one of two ways. Either, ‘Oh my gods I’m still so much smaller than them and already feel like a beached whale, what will I feel like later?’ or ‘Well, I can still touch my toes, can you?’

He sees me smiling and kisses my cheek. We sit silently people-watching. We do that a lot. I guess since we always had the spotlight focused on us as defeaters of Voldemort, it’s nice to look at others for a while. I lean my head against Harry’s shoulder and slowly drift off to sleep. I am so tired lately.

“Mr. Potter, Ms. Granger.” I sit up at our names. I try not to notice the strange glances we get. I’m not sure if it’s because of our famous names, or if it’s that we have different last names, meaning an illegimate child, *GASP*. They can all just sod off.

The mediwitch hands me a gown and tells me to get undressed. Harry helps me with my coat and starts to help undress me. His fingers glide down the buttons of my blouse. His strong hands wrap around me to unclasp my bra. As his hand dip down my sides, I tell him to stop. I can’t take it.

“You better be glad I don’t have you take me right here on the exam table.” I say as I finish undressing and put the gown on.

“Why should I be glad? Maybe I want to take you on the exam table.” Cheeky bastard.

Before he can even try to get any more ideas in his head Healer Morningstar comes in the room. Healer Morningstar is an older wizard. Not quite as old as Dumbledore was, but a bit older than Mad Eye. He is gentle and sweet. He reminded me of Albus when I first saw him with Arthur. I think that’s why I am so comfortable with him.

“Ah, Mrs. Weasley. It’s been a while.”

I see Harry tense up slightly. I grab his hand in reassurance. “Actually, its Ms. Granger, now, sir.”

He looks up from his chart and eyes Harry and I. “My apologies. Ms. Granger. I had no idea. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not,” I say under my breath. I think Harry heard me because he squeezed my hand a little after I said it.

“Hello, I’m Healer Morningstar.” The aged wizard extended his hand to Harry. Harry, being the ever-polite gentleman that he is, shakes the man’s hand and smiles.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. Harry Potter.”

The look on the healers face is classic. His eyes dart to the famous scar and he looks dumbfounded for a moment. Harry’s used to this. Many people act like this when they meet him.

“M – Mr. Potter, sir. It’s my pleasure.” The old man is shaking Harry’s hand so hard, I think his arms going to fall off. I clear my throat to get the attention back on the pregnant lady that is sitting here with a draft going up my bum.

“Oh, sorry, dear. Lay back and let’s have a look see.”

Harry watches the healers hands roam just above my skin and looks nervous. I squeeze his hand letting him know that everything is fine and he eases a bit.

“Hmmm… curious…” The healer days and Harry leans down and asks me if he’s related to Mr. Ollivander. I don’t think so, but what does that have to do with anything?

“What’s curious?” I ask after a few more silent moments.

Healer Morningstar looks up at me and smiles. “Well, you are measuring quite a bit larger than what is expected for 14 weeks and I am getting a strange heart rhythm.” I look at him confused. Harry looks utterly terrified. “In fact, I think I am hearing two heartbeats.”

“Two?” Harry and I ask at the same time. The healer nods and waves his wand over my swollen belly. A picture emerges of two bald babies curled up around each other. I see four feet and four hands. One of them is sucking his or her thumb. Oh, definitely his thumb. I can feel the tears trailing down my cheeks. Twins. I look up at Harry who is staring in awe at the picture of our children. Two boys. No wonder Arthur knew so soon. He was reading two of them.

“Well, that explains a lot,” I tease through my tears. Harry squeezes my hand and kisses me lightly on the forehead.

“Well, these little men look perfect. Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” Harry says in a daze. I smile up at the healer. He gives me instructions to watch my salt intake, drink lots of water, blah, blah, blah. I’ve done this twice already; I know what I’m supposed to do.

“Well, I’ll leave the two of you to clean up. You may get dressed Ms. Granger. Thank you and congratulations again.”

I sit up and look at Harry. He is staring dumbly at my belly. “Two,” he whispers.

I lift his chin so he is looking at me. “Yes, two.” He smiles then and my heart skips a beat. “Two boys.”

“Yeah, two boys.” I have never seen Harry like this. I pull him to me and wrap my arms around him.

“Thank you, love.”

I pull back to look at him. “Why are you thanking me, Harry?”

He sighs and that crooked smile creeps up again. “For everything, ‘Mione. For loving me, for my sons, for… you.”

I can’t help but smile. “You’re welcome. But I think you had something to do with the twins. I seem to remember… four times that night.” We laugh together. I am happy. My life is so full right now and I wouldn’t dream of changing a thing.

24. Chapter 22

A/N – This chapter comes from a totally different point of view. Don’t flame me, please. I just thought we needed a little more of the Weasleys. Don’t worry the proposal is coming up. I hope to have it up today or tomorrow at the latest. I only get the chance to update on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday nights. (That’s when I work). I have no time at home, my husband is about ready to throw my computer through the window as it is. ;) I hope you like this chapter. Please feel free to read and review. ~Coriander

Chapter 22

I look along the long table at my family. I have truly been blessed. I have a wonderful husband, 7 beautiful children and their significant others, 11 grandchildren, 2 might-as-well-be-my-children and a new might-as-well-be-my-grandchild on the way. I sigh contentedly. This is what life is all about. I catch my husband’s eye from the other end of the table. He knows what I’m thinking. He knows that I am happy.

Dinner at the Burrow is never a planned affair. People come and go as they please, but tonight is different. All of my children are here. It was not entirely planned, as Ginny and Draco had just popped in to say hello and Harry and Hermione had just come by to pick up Candace and Arthur. I talked them all into staying. Bill is back home and Charlie had an interview for a new job. I have missed these times. I pray that I can get more of them.

I look around at my children. Bill is here with his wife Marlena and their daughter Trinity. I have missed Bill. His hair is still long, and that blasted earring… I guess Marlena likes it, so I really can’t complain, can I? I am glad that he is no longer in Egypt, or in Columbia, or… where was he last? Oh, yes, Saskatchewan, Canada. He is finally coming back to London, for good. I can’t wait to get to know my daughter-in-law and my granddaughter better. They have been away since Trinity was a little over a year old, that was five years ago.

My eyes move across the table to Charlie. My Charlie. Romania was good for him. He found his wife, Nina there, they were working together. They say it was love at first sight. How sweet. Nina stopped working with the dragons, however, when she found out about Little Charlie. I don’t like the name Chuck. He will always be my ‘Little Charlie.’ Then when Myrna was born, she decided that dragon-keeping was not for her anymore. Charlie’s been trying to get out of it, too, for the kids’ sakes. I hope that he gets the position he interviewed for. He had applied for the position of Care of Magical Creatures professor at Hogwarts. It would be so wonderful for him to be there, teaching his nieces and nephews; along with the fact that I will be able to see him more often.

Percy. Percy, Percy, Percy. That boy will be the death of me. After all he had put the family through when Voldemort came back, I thought he would never come back into the fold. I am so glad he did. It took some coaxing from his ‘lover,’ but he’s back. I look over at him and smile as he wipes a bit of gravy off Oliver’s chin. Oliver is the best thing that could have ever happened to Percy. He loves him unconditionally, and that’s what matters.

I am brought out of my musings by the cackle of one of the twins. I think it was Fred. I’m not sure what they are doing, but I don’t think those two will ever grow up. I was annoyed at them for leaving Hogwarts the way they did. But they built their Wheeze Empire and I can’t be upset at them for that. I’m still not sure how those two landed wives, but somehow they did. Fred and Angelina, yeah, the same one from Hogwarts, I think it was Spinnet or Johnson – I always got the two of them confused, have three children – Taylor, 12, Miranda, 9, and George, 5. I feel sorry for the two of them sometimes. Those three kids act just like their father. Merlin help Angelina.

George’s wife, Charlene, is trying to duck one of the twins’ new inventions. I know I should scold them, but I’m too happy right now to ruin it. Charlene has given George two wonderful children. Charlene had been married before and her husband left her and the children. George took them in and loved them as his own. That’s my George. He had always wanted a family and we were afraid he would never have one after an unfortunate Wheeze accident. But now he has Charlene, Liam, and Chelsea. They even have red hair, so they fit the part rather well.

I catch Ginny looking at me strangely and I smile. “You all right, Mum?” she asks as she grabs my hand. I nod and my tears start to spill over. Virginia, my baby. I never would have imagined her marrying a Malfoy. But Draco is wonderful. He is a great husband to Ginny and a fantastic father to Annie. I never thought I would see that young man ever show love for anything more than himself. I was very wrong, and I am glad I was.

“I’m fine, baby,” I reassure Ginny before she lets go of my hand to let me go back to my pondering. Ron. Ron. I shake my head as I look over to my youngest son and his girlfriend, Lavender. I’m still not used to it, but I have to accept it. I look closely at Ron and see a faint look of despair in his eyes. I follow his gaze and see Hermione and Harry nuzzling each other.

Harry and Hermione. My two adopted children. When Hermione’s parents were killed, I had no choice but to take her in. She is as close to me as Ginny. And Harry… well, he’s Harry. Harry has always been a part of this family, since Ron met him on the train to Hogwarts. I am so glad to see them so happy. I remember Hermione saying something about a healer appointment today and I wonder vaguely how it went. The family knows that she is pregnant. Ron had a hard time with it at first. He had sought out my advice on the situation when Harry had told him. Poor Ron. He made his bed, now he must lie in it.

Dinner continued without much excitement, aside from the twins’ experimental miniature flying monkeys, that kept burrowing into peoples’ hair. The scene was no Norman Rockwell painting. You know, that Muggle artist that painted for that American periodical? Yeah, I know about Muggle art. I’m rather fascinated by it, but don’t tell Arthur that. After all the grief I have given him over the years for his obsession with Muggle items, I would never live it down.

Suddenly, I hear a fork being tapped against a glass. I look over and see Harry standing up. He did it! He proposed to her. I knew it was going to happen sooner or lat…

“Hermione and I would like to make an announcement.” He looked nervously down at Hermione, who grabbed his hand and squeezed it. I love to see two people so in love. “Today we had our first healer visit. And we have some great news…”

“It’s a girl!”

“It’s a boy!” Various exclamations erupted around the table. But Harry just laughed, nervously.

He looked straight at Ron and smiled. Ron smiled back as best he could, but I could tell it didn’t go all the way to his eyes. Then Harry spoke again. “Yes, it’s a boy. Well rather… um… two boys.” He drifted of slightly at the end, but I heard him all the same. He didn’t propose, but they’re having twins.

I couldn’t help but jump up and embrace the two of them. I never expected this. Harry has always wanted to be a dad. I am glad Hermione could do that for him. I just never expected twins.

“TWINS!?” Ron yelled.

Hermione nodded over my shoulder at him. I’m not sure what Ron’s reaction was but I did here Lavender say, “It’s all right, Ron. I’m really happy for them.” I let go of Harry and Hermione to let the others follow suit with their congratulations. I looked around and saw Ron disappear through the back door, letting it slam behind him.

Between the ‘Way to go, Harry’s, ‘Congratulations’ and ‘Just don’t name them Fred and George’s I looked over at Hermione who was now hugging Bill. Her eyes belied her inner turmoil. She had seen Ron storm out and obviously didn’t know what to do.

I nodded to her, and she seemed to understand. Let Mummy handle this one. I nonchalantly left the kitchen and followed my son out the door. I found him sitting on the picnic table with his head in his hands.

“Ron?”

“Hi, Mum.”

“Are you all right?” He nodded. I don’t believe him for one second. “You’re lying, Ronald,” I chastise him lightly.

“I don’t know what to do, Mum. How am I supposed to feel? I know that I messed up, but seeing Hermione so happy, hurts. She was never that happy with me.”

I shake my head at him. It took you long enough to realize all this, didn’t it boy? “Ron, I’m not going to lie to you. She seems very happy. And so does Harry. Isn’t this what you wanted?”

He looks at me incredulously. “Mum…”

“No, Ron. I will not let you ruin this. You messed up. You let Hermione go. Harry loves her. You love Lavender. Let it go.”

His gaze drops to the wet grass. “I’m trying Mum. I just… I want to be that happy. I want to have what they have.”

“Don’t you?”

“I love Lavender. And she loves me. But it’s not like what Harry and Hermione have. Why can’t I have that?”

I sigh as I wrap my arms around him. “Ron, you need to focus on her and on your relationship. Put Lavender first. That’s where you failed with Hermione. If you love Lavender, show her. Do you realize, you hurt her feelings when you stormed out the way you did? You tell her you love her, but at the first sign of Hermione being happy with someone else, you fume. What is the girl supposed to think? You cheated on your ex-wife with her. And now your ex-wife is still effecting you as if you still love her.”

“I still do, Mum.”

I try to hold my tongue. I want to smack the boy upside the head sometimes. At times he is dafter than the twins, and that’s saying a lot. “Think about who you love more, Ron. Is it Hermione? Or is it Lavender?”

He sighs deeply. “I know where you’re going, Mum. And you’re right. I am in love with Lavender and I need to show her that. I’m a prat aren’t I?”

I snigger a little bit; he may not be so daft after all. “No, you’re just a bit slow. Now, go in and tell her how you feel. And apologize to Hermione, too. She wants your support; she needs it. You wanted her to be happy, let her be.” At that I leave him sitting on the table thinking about my words. I hope he actually listened this time.

I go over and start to dish up the pumpkin pie I made for dessert as everyone debates over possible names for the new twins.

“How about James and Sirius?” a voice comes from the doorway. Ron. I look over at him and smile. Hermione is up in a flash and hugs him.

“Are you all right with this, Ron?” she asks. I catch Ron looking over at the tear-streaked Lavender and smiling.

“I think it’s wonderful. Congratulations.” He stands up and shakes Harry’s hand before Harry pulls him into a hug of his own. Harry whispers something in Ron’s ear that I can’t hear. It must have been good, because Ron smiles and pats him on the back before rejoining Lavender on the other side of the table.

“I love you, Lav. I’m sorry.” I hear Ron whisper before he kisses her lightly. She smiles. Ron actually did something right for a change. I swell with pride at him. It took him long enough.

I pass out the pie to everyone as they continue the name discussion. Harry and Hermione said that they liked Ron’s suggestion, but may use them for middle names if anything. There was only one James Potter and one Sirius Black in Harry’s mind and that’s the way it was going to stay. That boy has grown up to be an astounding man. If his father and Sirius could see him now, no doubt they would be proud. I know I am.

The conversations continue and I hear Fred or George say something to Ron. “Hey, Ickle Ronniekins, we’re all going out to the Three Broomsticks. You know, all the guys, to celebrate Harry’s accomplishment. It takes a lot to make twins. He did good.” I look over at Hermione who is rolling her eyes. I think she may have had something to do with that, too.

I smile as Ron asks Lavender if she minded if he went for a few drinks. Good boy. She nods and the men kiss their wives before disapparating to the pub. I can’t help but laugh at what just happened. One mention of drinks and all the men disappear literally.

All the girls help me clear the table and set the dishwashing charms. I love my daughters. That’s what they all are. My daughters. After about an hour of socializing and doting over Hermione, the girls start to gather the children and head home.

Again, my house is silent. I miss the noise. I miss the chaos. It’s just me and Arthur now. It’s odd hearing nothing in a house that used to hold nine people, twenty-four hours a day. The silence consumes me and I venture off to bed and wait for Arthur to return from the pub. At least now, we have the house to ourselves. And some nights we tend to make up for the silence, if you know what I mean. How do you think we ended up with seven kids to begin with?

25. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

It’s late. I know where he is, or rather who he is with. That’s why I am worried. This was all Fred and George’s idea. They wanted to take Harry out for the male congratulatory, ‘Way to go, stud!’ celebration. I should have expected it; they did the same thing to Ron, both times. And of course since Harry had double the impact, he is most likely going to be twice as drunk.

I’ve been home now for a couple hours. I got to spend some time with Arthur and Candace, just the three of us, or rather now, the five of us. They are both excited to be having two baby brothers. Candace even offered a couple of names, Linus and Leopold, after two of her stuffed dragons. I’m not sure how they got those names, but I won’t question her.

Arthur’s reaction to the twins was a complete shock. He wanted to help so much. He kept running to get me a glass of water or to help put my feet up. The boy is so sweet. He even offered to stay up with me until Harry got home. I gave him credit for the try, but still sent them both to bed a little over a half hour ago.

I’m now sitting curled up on the sofa in front of the fire, reading. This takes me back. I haven’t been able to just sit and read in quite a while. I know it’s hard to believe, Hermione Granger, bookworm extraordinaire, has not had the time to just sit and read in peace. It’s true. I revel in the silence and let myself be absorbed into the book in my lap.

My attention is brought away from the words on the page, to the sound of words being thrown outside the front door.

“Shhh. Herm-eye-o-knee is gonna kell me if you two don’t shut your moufs.” I hear Harry slur as he fumbled for his keys. Obviously he was too drunk to apparate, and using the Floo is really a bad idea after drinking. So now, he stands outside arguing with someone, most likely Fred and George, while trying to get the key in the lock.

“Oh, c’mon, ‘arry. My-knee won’t even know we’re ‘ere.” All right, I was wrong, it’s not Fred and George. That was Ron’s voice. I know his drunken ramblings anywhere.

“Hurryup Harry I need to use the loo.” Charlie? Was that Charlie’s voice?

I focus back on my book as Harry finally manages to get the door open. They obviously don’t see me, because Harry is still insistently shushing the other two. Charlie stumbles up the stairs to the loo. I laugh to myself as he misses at least four steps and stumbles up the last few.

I sink down lower into the couch when Ron starts offering advice to Harry. I can’t help but shake my head at the irony of it all.

“C’mon, Harry. Don’t be scared. You know she’ll say ‘yes.’” Who’ll say yes to what?

“Ron, be quiet!” Harry hisses. “I just can’t get the nerve up to do it. I’ve been carrying the damned thing around in my pocket for almost two months. What if she says no?”

Someone just leaned over on the piano keys, creating the most ungodly sound. The two of them suddenly shush the piano. Like it can control itself. Ron starts laughing. I’m not exactly sure if it was over the piano incident or something else.

“What?” Harry snaps. Harry is a very turbulent drunk. He can be very boisterous one minute, but then depressed and angry the next.

“I just think its funny that you are asking her ex-husband for advice. I fucked it all up and you ask me for help. How stupid are you man?” It is rather hilarious when you look at it.

Harry laughs too. I love that sound, even with the alcohol haze behind it. “It is rather funny, isn’t it?” The two of them are laughing almost uncontrollably when Charlie returns from upstairs.

Damn, Charlie saw me. I should have figured. He is walking a bit straighter now. He probably sobered himself up with a spell in the bathroom. He raises an eyebrow at me. I shake my head furiously at him, and then immediately lie down and pretend I’m asleep. Charlie seems to take the hint and guides Ron toward the door.

As the two of them walk through the door, Charlie turns back. “Oi, Harry, you might want to take Sleeping Beauty upstairs with you.” Damn him!

As the door closes, I open my eyes a crack and see Harry looking at me. He’s smiling. It’s a drunk smile, but I don’t care. He still thinks I’m asleep. He comes and kneels down beside the couch, his fingers running through my hair. He doesn’t know what that does to me. I love the way he caresses my hair and skin. He is always so soft and gentle.

His lips brush my forehead and I hear a whisper, “I love you, Mione.” I can smell the alcohol on his breath. Firewhiskey. I know that smell anywhere. He disappears for a moment and I watch through my eyelashes as he goes into the kitchen. He’s probably getting some sobering potion from the cabinet. There’s no way he can carry me up the stairs while he’s drunk.

After what seems like an eternity he comes back to my side. I wait for him to pick me up to take me to bed, but he just sits there; watching me ‘sleep.’ His breath is a bit fresher as it caresses my face in his whispers. His voice is so soft that I have to strain to hear what he’s saying. My heart swells at his words.

“I love you so much, Hermione. You have made me the happiest man on the face of this earth. You have given me a family. I hope that I can be the husband and father that you want me to be.” Husband? Did he just say husband?

He continues as if he read my mind. “That’s right. I want to be your husband. I want you to be Mrs. Hermione Potter. That sounds good doesn’t it?” Gods, that does sound good. I’m half tempted to just stretch and ‘wake up’ just to snog him senseless. “Why can’t I do this when you’re awake? I have practiced this so many times while you’re asleep. I know it all by heart. Why can’t I just let it out when you’re awake? I even got Arthur’s permission to ask you, I just can’t…”

He got Arthur’s permission to ask me? He asked Arthur if he could propose? I strain to pull back the tears that threaten to escape my closed eyes. I can’t believe Harry did that. He will never cease to amaze me.

“I seem to lose all the words when I look in your eyes. You take my breath away and my brain loses all function with just a look. It’s so much easier when you’re asleep. Your eyes aren’t boring into mine, making me lose all concentration. I won’t see the possible rejection in your eyes. I love you so much, Mione, but you deserve so much better. I want to marry you, if you will have me. I can give you everything I can, which doesn’t even come close to what you’re worth.”

I can’t stop a small tear from escaping one of my eyes. He sees it and brushes his thumb lightly over my cheek to wipe it away. I let my eyes slowly open and I am staring straight into his emerald ones. I understand what he meant about losing all concentration. I lose all of my inner battles to control the tears flowing from my eyes.

“Hi,” I whisper breathlessly.

“Hi.”

My mind clears momentarily. I need to play this off. I didn’t hear a word. I didn’t hear you say you wanted to marry me. I didn’t hear the self-doubt behind your voice. I have to say these things over and over in my head, just to make sure that my mouth doesn’t decide to protest and blurt it all at once. I close my eyes as Harry runs the back of his knuckles across my cheek. I can’t help but lean into his touch. Its what I live for. Every day I wake up just to see the sparkling in his eyes, to hear his voice, to feel the touch of his skin against mine. I love this man more than I ever imagined I could love someone.

Harry’s lips find mine in a chaste, yet passionate kiss. I open my eyes when he pulls away. “Harry…” My words stop when he places a finger gently against my lips.

“Hermione, how long have you been awake?” I can’t lie to him. He knows I heard him. I sigh and close my eyes. I can’t face him. His hand starts to shake as he pulls my chin to look at him. I don’t have to answer. He can read it in my eyes. “You heard everything didn’t you?”

I close my eyes again and nod. He pulls away from me. I’ve hurt him. I know I have. I knew I should have just opened my eyes, but no, I wanted to hear more, I wanted to hear everything. I sit up when I feel him bring himself to standing. I hear his footsteps pace back and forth. I open my eyes to look at him, but he won’t look at me. I struggle to get my voice to cooperate. I messed up. Gods, I never meant to hurt him. “Harry, I’m sorry.”

He turns to me and immediately comes over and wraps his arms around me. “Oh, no, Hermione. I’m not mad. I’m actually a bit relieved.” I pull back to look at him. His hands cradle my face and he gently wipes my tears away with his thumbs. “It actually makes this a bit easier.”

Harry pulls away from me again. I struggle to keep him in my arms. I need him next to me. I need to hold on to him. He fumbles in his pocket and pulls out a small black box. I stop struggling and sit back a bit. My heart is thumping out of my chest. Is that? I know I heard him say he wanted to, but… Oh gods. He opens the box to reveal a beautiful ruby and diamond ring. I have never seen anything more exquisite in my life.

“It was my mum’s,” he whispers. I can tell he is fighting for the strength to go through with this. His voice is soft and shaky. It makes me love him all that much more. “Hermione, I know you heard what I said before, but I have to say it again. I love you. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. You take my breath away.” He pauses to take a deep breath. “Hermione, I want to spend the rest of my life with you and our childen, including Candi and Arthur. We are a family. My family. No, our family. I want to stand with you and watch them grow. I want to be able to sit on the back porch and watch or children and grandchildren play. I - Gods why is this so hard?”

I reach for his hand that keeps running nervously over his jeans. He looks back up at me and our eyes lock. Tears threaten to obscure my vision again as I see Harry struggling to fight back his own tears. I smile at him trying to reassure him. He is so nervous. Does he really think that I will reject him?

“Mione, love, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me. W- Will you do me the honor of making me the happiest man alive? I love you and I want to marry you. I want to be your husband. Will you marry me?”

The tears I had been fighting, won their battle and are now streaming down my cheeks. I nod at him, I can’t seem to find my voice. I have dreamed of this moment since I was in sixth year, and now it comes and I can’t speak. I pull his face to me and cover his lips with mine. If I can’t say it in words, I can say it like this. Our kisses become frantic and hungry.

I let him pull me from the couch, never breaking our heated kiss. It feels so good to be in his arms. But I want to be closer. I want to be with him. He bends down a bit to lift me into his arms. I’m cradled against his chest. I feel like a princess and he is my Prince Charming. I am reminded of something Charlie had said as he was leaving. He called me ‘Sleeping Beauty.’ That’s right, Sleeping Beauty, awakened by her true love.

Instead of carrying me up the stairs to our room, Harry walks over to the piano, and sets me on the lid. I admit I have had fantasies of he and I sprawled out on top of the baby grand, but I never actually expected it to happen. Harry pulls on the tie of my dressing gown, opening it and letting it fall across the black wood. My nightdress is pushed up to my hips, and he lets out a groan when it registers that I am not wearing any knickers.

I find the zipper to his trousers and slowly start to unzip it. Harry’s hand catches mine to speed up the process. Our lips have not lost their connection. Our kisses are soul searing, passionate and burning. I pull away only at the shock of him entering me. We’ve never made love like this; still dressed and frantic on top of the closest piece of furniture. Gods, it feels good. As we rock against each other, our breathing increases and our climaxes seem to come out of nowhere, catching us both off guard.

I lean my head on his shoulder. My body is trembling from our frenzied coupling. He catches his breath and whispers in my ear, “I’m sorry. I just could wait to get you upstairs; it was too far.” I pull back and smile at him before I kiss him sweetly. If this is what ‘happily ever after’ feels like, I have no problem being Harry’s princess.

*

A/N – no this is not the end. Just to let you know, I have this planned until after the twins’ birth. So there are quite a few more chapters. :)

26. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

I honestly never thought I would be back at Hogwarts, at least not like this. But here I am standing in the Headmaster’s office. I am reminded of the many times we came here after doing something stupid. Well, this could be chalked up under the same category, if you thought about it. It was stupid that we forgot the damned charm, but I wouldn’t change anything for the world. I would still be here whether there were babies or not.

I look over at my beautiful… almost wife. She is stunning. Her hair is down, flowing in dark ringlets down her back with bits of baby’s breath intertwined. The gown she is wearing reminds me of a medieval princess. I guess she is my princess. For the past few weeks she has called me her prince. I’m not sure where that all came from, but its cute. I don’t mind it at all.

I look to the man in front of me. If someone were to tell me ten years ago, that this man would be the one to marry me and my love, I would have laughed my arse off. But here he stands in all his dark glory. Severus Snape is a good man. I have a deep-rooted respect for the greasy git. Well, he doesn’t look that greasy anymore; the silver in his hair has softened it up a bit.

I am not exactly sure what Snape is saying. He keeps droning on and on. The man has never been married in his life, how can he have that much to say about it? I wonder for a moment why we just didn’t have the Minister of Magic perform the ceremony. I know Arthur would have done it, if we had asked. But no, Hermione felt strange having her ex-father-in-law officiating her wedding. I guess I can see her point.

Speaking of the Minister, he is standing beside Molly beaming happily at us. There are only a few people here to witness this. I move my eyes to glance at everyone. There’s Arthur and Molly, Ron (who thought best to leave Lavender at home – good thinking, Ron), Remus, Draco and Ginny (that’s still one of the strangest sights, but like Mione and I, they’re made for each other), and of course Arthur and Candace.

Candi looks so cute with her hair pinned up and her dress that looks just like Hermione’s. Arthur keeps looking over his shoulder at me and smiling. He even dressed so he could match me… his idea. I smile and shake my head in disbelief. How did I get so lucky to have all of this?

I feel Hermione squeeze my hand and hear Snape clear his throat. I put my full attention to the man in front of us. I feel like I’m back in potions class, listening to his booming voice and looking at his stern expression. He doesn’t look as menacing now as he used to. That may be because I know him on a personal level now, if I really want to admit that. Yeah, I guess I do. He did so much for me, for all of us in the war. If it weren’t for him, we would have lost a lot more. Here I go again, losing all concentration. Where are we? Oh yeah… I feel Hermione turn to me and grab my hands as Snape begins…

“Hermione, please face Harry and hold his hands, palms up, so you may see the gift that they are to you.

These are the hands of your best friend, young and strong and vibrant with love, that are holding yours on your wedding day, as he promises to love you all the days of his life.

These are the hands that will work along side yours, as together you build your future, as you laugh and cry, as you share your innermost secrets and dreams.

These are the hands you will place with expectant joy against your stomach, to feel his child stir within you.

These are the hands that look so large and strong, yet will be so gentle as he holds your baby for the first time.

These are the hands that will work long hours for you and your new family.

These are that hands that will passionately love you and cherish you through the years, for a lifetime of happiness.

These are the hands that will countless times wipe the tears from your eyes: tears of sorrow and tears of joy.

These are the hands that will comfort you in illness, and hold you when fear or grief wracks your mind.

These are the hands that will tenderly lift your chin and brush your cheek as they raise your face to look into his eyes: eyes that are filled completely with his overwhelming love and desire for you.”

I look up to see Hermione’s eyes filled with tears. I want so much to wipe them away. I can’t help it. I reach up and wipe her tears with my thumb. It’s my job; Snape just said so. Right? She smiles at me and I am lost once more. I vaguely hear Snape say my name and turn to look at him. At his words, I take Hermione’s hands and let my eyes linger on hers.

“Harry, please hold Hermione’s hands, palms up, where you may see the gift that they are to you. These are the hands of your best friend, smooth, young and carefree, that are holding yours on your wedding day, as she pledges her love and commitment to you all the days of her life.

These are the hands that will hold each child in tender love, soothing them through illness and hurt, supporting and encouraging them along the way, and knowing when it is time to let go.

These are the hands that will massage tension from your neck and back in the evenings after you’ve both had a long hard day.

These are the hands that will hold you tight as you struggle through difficult times.

These are the hands that will comfort you when you are sick, or console you when you are grieving.

They are the hands that will passionately love you and cherish you through the years, for a lifetime of happiness.

These are the hands that will hold you in joy and excitement and hope, each time she tells you that you are to have another child; that together you have created a new life.

These are the hands that will give you support as she encourages you to chase down your dreams. Together as a team, everything you wish for can be realized.”

It’s her turn to wipe my tears away. I am a sap; I admit it. I live for romance. I live for mushy stuff. I may look like a Quidditch jock on the outside, but this is what makes me turn to mush. I try to remember all that Snape just said, and I can’t. I was so lost in the emotion of it all; my mind is a blur. I guess I will have to put it all in a pensieve when we get home. Then I might actually be able to concentrate. Because right now, the only thing I am concentrating on is not sweeping Hermione into my arms and carrying her to the Room of Requirement, to with her what I will.

Hermione and I are still holding hands as each witness present comes forward with the handfasting cords. I hear Snape’s voice again and try to focus on his words.

“Harry and Hermione, know now before you go further, that since your lives have crossed in this life you have formed ties between each other. As you seek to enter this state of matrimony you should strive to make real, the ideals which give meaning to both this ceremony and the institution of marriage.

The promises made today and the ties that are bound here greatly strengthen your union; they will cross the years and lives of each soul's growth. I bid you look into each other’s eyes. Harry, will you cause her pain?”

I take a deep breath and answer, “I may.”

“Is that your intent?”

“No.” “Hermione, will you cause him pain?” “I may.”

“Is that your intent?”

“No.”

“Will you share each other's pain and seek to ease it?”

I smile at her and we both answer together, “Yes.”

“And so the binding is made.” Snape then drapes a black cord over our hands, before he continues.

“Hermione, will you share his laughter?”

“Yes.”

“Harry, will you share her laughter”?

“Yes.”

“Will both of you look for the brightness in life and the positive in each other?”

“Yes.”

“And so the binding is made.”

Molly moves forward and drapes a yellow cord over our hands before leaning over and kissing us both on the cheek.

“Hermione, will you burden him?”

“I may.”

“Is that your intent?”

“No.”

“Harry, will you burden her?”

“I may.”

“Is that your intent?”

“No.”

“Will you share the burdens of each so that your spirits may grow in this union?”

“Yes.”

“And so the binding is made.”

I watch as Arthur, the elder one, comes and drapes the brown cord over our hands. He winks at me before he goes back to his wife’s side. He’s the father I never got to know. I pray that I can be as good at it as he is. My eyes fall on Hermione’s once more as the ceremony continues.

“Hermione, will you share his dreams?”

“Yes.”

“Harry, will you share her dreams?”

“Yes.”

“Will you dream together to create new realities and hopes?”

I feel her squeeze my hands again. The sensation flows through me and makes me stutter as we both answer, “Yes”

“And so the binding is made.”

Remus comes up and drapes the blue cord over our hands. He smiles at me before turning to Hermione. I can see the tears in his eyes. I know he was part of my parents’ wedding. I wonder if that’s what he’s thinking of? Again I don’t know what Snape is saying.

I really wish my mind would stop going off on its damned tangents. I think Hermione might kill me by the time this is over. That would be a record - married for one second before the bride kills the groom.

“Harry, will you cause her anger?”

What irony it is that this be the cord after what I was just thinking. I fight back a chuckle as I answer, “I may.”

“Is that your intent?”

“No.” I can’t help but notice the fire burning in Hermione’s eyes. I know she noticed the chuckle. I couldn’t help it, I swear. I look at her pleadingly for a moment.

“Hermione, will you cause him anger?”

“I may.” Was it just me, or did she just growl that out?

“Is that your intent?”

“No.” I think it was just me, but I still think she’s going to pull me aside the second this is over and thrash me a good one.

“Will you take the heat of anger and use it to temper the strength of this union?”

“We will.” And we’re going to start in about 3 minutes.

“And so the binding is made.”

Draco is the one to drape the red cord over our hands. Things have changed a lot in the last ten years. I now consider him a close friend, I never expected that at Hogwarts. He smiles at us both and nods in respect. He is a good man.

“Hermione, will you honor him?”

“I will.”

“Harry, will you honor her?”

“I will.”

“Will you seek to never give cause to break that honor?”

“We shall never do so.”

“And so the binding is made.”

Now, this is irony. Ron has come forward to place the purple cord over our hands. He kisses Hermione on the cheek and clasps my shoulder. I can see the pain in his eyes. I hate to see him like that. It’s not like I want to dance a jig in front of him saying, ‘She’s mine, she’s mine.’ That would just be wrong. I love the prat. He’s my brother, or the closest thing I’ll ever have. I know he will find happiness someday, whether it be with Lavender or not.

As Ron steps away, Snape takes all six cords and ties them together, around our hands. We are bound. I look deeply into my love’s eyes as Snape concludes the ceremony by removing the tied cords and placing them in our hands.

“The knots of this binding are not formed by these chords but instead by your vows. Either of you may drop the chords, for as always, you hold in your own hands the making or breaking of this union.

“I have watched the two of you grow into very intelligent and caring adults. I am truly happy that you have found what so many have never experienced. May the gods bless and shine on you.”

I am dumbfounded by his words. Severus Snape, Slytherin git, just expressed feelings… toward me, the bane of his existence. I stand there awestruck at what was just said, but then am interrupted by the insufferable git of a Potions Master snapping at me.

“Kiss her you fool.”

I gladly take his order and kiss my lovely wife. My wife. Mrs. Hermione Potter. Harry and Hermione Potter. Mr. Hermione Potter, yep, that’s me. My thoughts are interrupted not only by the feel of Mione’s tongue slithering into my mouth, but also by the incessant pulling of my sleeve by a little person.

I gently pull away from our kiss to look down and see a smiling redhead looking up at me. She pulls on my arm so that I have to kneel down to be eye level with her. Candace grabs my face with both her hands and kisses me full on the mouth. It’s a quick peck on the lips, but she is embarrassed by her boldness.

I smile at her as she pulls away and blushes. Her face is suddenly hidden in her mother’s dress. I look up at Hermione who is smiling mirthfully. I pull Candace into my arms and hug her tightly. “I love you, Candi.”

“I love you too, Harry.” At that I kiss the top of her head and stand up to take her mother into my arms.

“How did we get here, Mione?” I ask her as I lightly kiss her forehead.

“I believe, that two weeks ago, you came home from a night out with the boys and in your drunken stupor, proposed to me. I said ‘yes’ and here we are.” She can be such a pain in the arse sometimes. But that’s why I love her. She turns around and starts toward Remus. Then it hits me what she said…

I grab her shoulder and turn her around. “I was not drunk when I asked you to marry me.” She smiles and I pull her to me. This is where she belongs… in my arms. “I love you, Mrs. Potter.”

She looks up at me, her brown eyes shining. “I love you too, Mr. Granger.” As I stand there in shock, she extricates herself from my arms and before I can go after her, Snape has pulled me aside. I will get her later. The game is on.

*

A/N - The wedding ceremony is taken from different ideas from www.ultimatewedding.com. I cannot take credit for that, sorry. :)

27. Chapter 25

I watch my wife as she ties a bow onto yet another gift. My wife. I am still amazed by that. We have been married almost two weeks now, but I can’t get over the fact that she is my wife. That she is Mrs. Harry Potter.

I smile at the memory of her calling me Mr. Granger and of what Snape said to me after the ceremony. He told me that I was lucky to have found her. He was proud of me and the man I have become. Snape! Snape was proud of me. Can you believe it? Well, neither could I at first. But he was right. I am damned lucky to have found my soulmate. That’s what she is. I feel whole only when she is near me. There is no other explanation. We truly were meant for each other.

“Harry, are you all right?” her sweet voice brings me out of my reverie. She is looking at me funny and I realize that I must have been staring at her.

I smile and reassure her that everything is fine. More than fine, actually. After a few moments I hear her harrumph and my gaze focuses back on her beautiful face. “Are you actually going to wrap a present, or am I going to do them all?”

Oops. I didn’t realize that I had been off in la-la-land again and not doing what I was supposed to be. It’s Christmas Eve and Hermione and I are wrapping the last minute gifts for the children. I watch as she carefully places another box under the tree.

I am entranced by the way the lights reflect in her hair, and the way she is sitting on the floor rubbing her rounded belly every few minutes. She truly is beautiful. I shake my head to clear my wandering thoughts and start to wrap the broomstick I bought for Arthur. Hermione wouldn’t let me get him a real one, only a training broom. Bullocks to training brooms. I never needed one.

I smile inwardly as I remembered the argument we had in the store about it. We were on our honeymoon. Yes, we were Christmas shopping on our honeymoon. How else were we supposed to buy gifts for the children without them being around? I had spotted the newest model of Nimbus brooms in the window at Quality Quidditch Supplies. She immediately said no to that one with the argument of it being too fast. I think we looked at seven different brooms and each one had a different dangerous feature attached to it. Either it was too fast, would fly to high, was hard to control, was specifically designed for trick maneuvers, etc. After over an hour, I finally relented to my pregnant wife, and got the training broom. I have learned that arguing with a pregnant woman gets you nowhere but the doghouse.

I tie the bow on the box and my eyes venture to her again. Even with her swollen feet and round belly, she is sexy as hell. I want to make love to her badly, but that has to wait a while. We found that out the hard way during the honeymoon. It seems that pregnant women have a tendency to have spontaneous, uncontrollable bursts of magic. The hormones and the conflicting magic of the child, play havoc on the witches system. We had dismissed many of the little things as everyday occurrences, such as the teapot boiling over while it was sitting on the counter, or the fireplace erupting at any given moment. But the big one scared the hell out of us.

We were in our hotel room making love when suddenly every candle’s flame grew three inches, and every electric appliance in the room exploded. Hermione’s head began to throb and I immediately called the hotel mediwitch. When the woman came to check on my wife, she laughed at my nervousness. I’m sorry I had never seen such a thing happen and I was honestly scared shitless. She asked if we were being ‘intimate.’ Before I could lambaste her with a comment of how rude the question was Hermione answered her.

It seems that these spontaneous bursts of elemental magic occur usually when the hormones are raging, especially when the woman is near or amidst an orgasm. Well that explains it, doesn’t it? In other words, every time Hermione climaxes, the room is likely to blow up. What does that mean for me? No sex, until the babies are born. Four months! Can I really make it that long without loving her physically? I guess I have to, unless I want my house to burn down.

I finish wrapping another gift and Hermione asks me to make her some tea. I, being the dutiful husband that I am, oblige. I first reach for the Earl Gray, but quickly remember that she must have herbal; something having to do with caffeine and the babies. Then as I am about to pour in the honey, I drop the jar and start scooping in the sugar. Pregnant women should avoid honey. I guess there is some sort of bacteria or some such nonsense I read about in one of Hermione’s pregnancy books. Yes, I have actually read them.

Carefully, I carry our tea back out to the common room and set hers on the coffee table. She is finishing the last gift. Her fingers nimbly tie the bow and it is stacked amongst the many others under the tree. I reach out a hand to help her up and she rubs her belly again. I’ve never noticed her rubbing her belly so much. The boys must be playing in there tonight.

As she sits down on the couch, I pull her close to me. This is what I like; holding her at the end of a long day. This is heaven. I feel her tense up slightly and her hand rubs once more over her womb. “Love, is everything all right?”

She smiles a reassuring smile and says it’s probably just indigestion. I make a mental note to watch her tonight. She has been over doing it, and this is concerning me. We sit in companionable silence sipping our tea and staring into the fire. I hear a yawn escape her mouth and I look down to see her eyes fighting to stay open.

Gently, I pull her cup from her and banish it to the kitchen, along with mine. My arms wrap around her waist and under her knees as I carry her upstairs to bed. I look down at the woman in my arms and can’t help but think about where I was a year ago. Last Christmas, I was alone. I went to the Burrow and watched as my adopted family played and laughed and loved. I only wanted one thing for Christmas and I got it seven months later.

I never really expected to ever be with Hermione. I dreamed, certainly, but never expected what I have. I lay her on the bed and cover her lightly in our blankets before curling up behind her. I rub my hand over where my sons lay in her womb. Her belly is tight, harder than normal. I wait for the usual kick from twin number one, but after a few moments realize that he must be sleeping. Her stomach finally relaxes and I hear her sigh softly.

I am awakened to the sound of someone calling my name. I reach over, blindly to where my wife should be laying to find only bundled sheets and blankets. I raise my head to see the lavatory light on and a sudden streak of panic fills me. I rush to the bathroom to find Hermione huddled over herself in the middle of the floor. She looks up at me and her eyes reveal her pain. I want to take it away. Before I can say anything her words stop me.

“Harry, I think something’s wrong.”

*

A/N – Sorry for the short chapter and the cliffie. I had to do it. I had the next chapter written, but needed this segway. Please forgive me. I know this chapter isn’t the best, but I will make up for it next chapter. I love you all and thank you.

28. Chapter 26

I lie in my bed, staring at the ceiling. Today was Christmas. I got most of what I asked for, but everything felt so… wrong. Let me start from the beginning…

This morning, Candi came and woke me up. She was so excited that Father Christmas had come. She was jumping on my bed while I put on my dressing gown. I was half expecting Mum to come in and tell us to stop being so loud, but Mum didn’t come in and neither did Harry.

When I finished tying my dressing gown, Candi and I went to wake Mum and Harry up. The presents under the tree were calling us and we needed to get down there soon. When I knocked on the door to their room, there was no answer. I opened thedoor, expecting to see the two of them sleeping, but no… the bed was unmade and empty.

“They’re probbly already downstairs,” Candi said.

I nodded and pulled her down the stairs. The tree was lit in the corner of the room. Mum’s favorite blanket was lying on the couch, but neither Mum nor Harry were anywhere to be seen. A noise came from the kitchen and I ran in hoping to see them sitting at the table, sipping tea. But no, Mum and Harry weren’t there.

“Happy Christmas, Artie.”

“Happy Christmas, Dad.”

“Daddy!” Candace yelled when seeing our father sitting at the kitchen table. She immediately ran to him and jumped in his lap. I don’t know if she even realized that Mum and Harry weren’t there, but I did.

“What are you doing here, Dad? Where are Mum and Harry?” I saw his eyes sadden a bit. I knew something was wrong when they weren’t in their bedroom. Something just didn’t feel right.

“Arthur, let’s eat breakfast and I will teel you what’s going on before we go see what Father Christmas brought. All right?”

I nodded as I sat down to a plat of eggs, gravy, sausage and biscuits. I couldn’t eat. I wanted to know where my mum was. I wanted to know what was wrong.

I noticed Dad silently staring into his teacup. “Dad?” I asked, making him look up at me with worried eyes.

“Arthur, Harry had to take your mum to St. Mungo’s a few hours ago,” he said softly, trying to ease the impact of his words.

My heart dropped. This was a nightmare. It had to be. “Why?”

“She woke up in a lot of pain. She’s probably fine,” he tried to reassure me. “The twins are probably just very active tonight.”

I know he was trying to help me. But I didn’t want to be lied to. “Harry wouldn’t have taken her to St. Mungo’s if it was just the twins kicking her. What’s going on, Dad?”

His face paled. Candi was sitting there with silent tears falling down her cheeks. She didn’t understand exactly what was going on, but she knew what Dad was thinking, and she knew something was wrong. Fear held me frozen. Something was wrong with my little brothers. My mum was hurting. Happy Christmas to me!

Dad sipped his tea and pulled Candi back over onto his lap. “I’m not sure what’s going on, but there may be something wrong with the babies. The healers at St. Mungo’s are watching them and taking good care of your mum. Harry will let us know if anything happens.”

I could tell that he was trying to keep his feelings in check. His eyes were red from holding his tears in. I wasn’t as strong. My tears flowed and Dad held his arm out. I went to him and cried in his shoulder.

What if I never get to see my brothers? What if Mum doesn’t get better? I was so scared. I burrowed myself further into my father’s arms. I cried like a baby as my daddy held me. I looked up at him as he kissed my sister’s head. His tears finally won and spilled down his cheeks.

After what seemed like hours, Dad cleared his throat and wiped his eyes. He tried to smile, but it couldn’t hide the sadness and worry. His voice was falsely happy as he tried to bring some light to the situation. “What are we doing in here sobbing? Your mum and Harry would want us to be happy today. It’s Christmas and I believe that there are presents out there waiting to be opened.”

Candi ran out into the common room, sliding on her pajamaed knees across the wooden floor. I tried to be happy. I tried to be excited, but the thought of my mum being at St. Mungo’s on Christmas would let me.

The morning flew by in a blur. I unconsciously opened my presents. I had even started to feel happy at some of the gifts, like the training broom from Harry. I was fine until I came upon two small boxes. Grandmum had taken me to Diagon Alley where I bought little t-shirts for the babies. I had wanted Mum and Harry to each open one. The t-shirts said “My Big Brother Loves Me.”

Picking up the two boxes, I looked at my dad again. “Do you think they’re OK?” He knelt down beside me and told me that he was sure they would be fine.

After our gifts were opened, Dad took us to Grandmum and Grandpa’s house. The Burrow was packed full of my aunts, uncles and cousins. The commotion was actually comforting. I am sure that everyone knew where Mum and Harry were, but no one mentioned it. Everyone succeeded in keeping Candi’s and my minds off of everything. I think I may have actually had a good time today, but was sadle overshadowed by the emptiness of Grimmauld Place when we went home after dinner.

Dad tucked us into our beds. I have missed my dad. I am glad he was here today, even though the situation was worrisome. Dad assured me again that he was sure that Mum and the babies would be fine. That’s how I found myself lying in my bed staring at the ceiling.

I prayed to anyone that would listen, “Please watch over and protect my mum and my baby brothers. Please let them come home to me. Please let them be all right.” I closed my eyes and started to doze off only to be awakened by the sound of my door creaking open.

A small figure with red curls is standing in my doorway. I pat the spot beside me in my bed and she comes and curls up beside me. She doesn’t say anything, just nuzzles into my side and falls asleep.

A while later I find that I must have fallen asleep and I awake to find someone sitting on the edge of my bed, stroking my hair. “Harry?”

“Happy Christmas, Arthur,” he whispers as not to wake the sleeping little girl beside me.

“Happy Christmas, Harry. Where’s Mum?”

I can see a faint smile on his face in the darkness. “She has to stay at St. Mungo’s for the night. They want to make sure she and the babies are all right, before they come home.”

“What happened?”

“Well, it seems that the boys have a lot of magic in them already and your mum’s body is having a hard time handling it. She’s OK and so are the babies. But she needs to stay off her feet for a while, probably until the babies come. I will need your help with that, all right?”

“All right,” I answer as he wraps me in a big hug. I hold on to my stepfather for dear life. My fears have subsided somewhat, but I am still worried.

Harry lets me go and moves over to pick up Candi. “She can stay. It’s all right.”

With Candace in his arms, he opens the door and motions to me, “C’mon, Arthur, lets go sleep in my bed. I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep in that big bed by myself. I need you two there.” I know he needs me and you know what? I need him too.

I follow Harry to his bedroom and crawl into the bed where Mum usually sleeps. I can smell her on the pillow and I nuzzle deeply into it. Everything is going to be all right. I can’t help but think that as I fall asleep in my stepfather’s arms.

29. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

I wake up to the feeling of someone kicking me in the ribs and run a hand over the offending bulge in my abdomen. I knew these babies would be hellions. I just never expected them to put me in the hospital. Four months. Four more months. That’s not really that long, is it? I turn my head and watch the sunrise out of the window in my room.

St. Mungo’s. I have always hated this place. Technically, it’s not just here, its any hospital - wizarding or muggle. I hate the crisp white sheets. I hate the way the healers try to talk around the problem. I hate the food. I hate everything about this place. I especially hate that they wouldn’t let Harry stay with me last night.

I sigh heavily at the thought of missing Christmas with my children. At least Ron was there. I wanted to go home so badly. I wanted to let them know that we were all right; the babies are just expending some of their magical energy. I wanted to be there when Candace and Arthur opened their presents. I wanted to see their smiling faces as they tore open the paper and ribbons. I just wanted to be there.

I find myself staring aimlessly out the window as the morning sun moves higher in the sky. I want to go home. I want to curl up in my bed with my husband. I want to kiss my children as they come in the kitchen for breakfast. My mind keeps going over my wants and desires again and again as the sun creeps further and further up.

I hear a knock at the door and smile. Harry. When the door opens I see red hair; short red hair and a freckled face. Ron. He probably told Harry to stay with the kids and that he would come get me. He smiles at me and sits on the edge of my bed.

“Good morning, Mione.”

“Hi Ron.” I look up at him. He knows what I want without me having to say a word. I want to go home. Take me home. Ron grabs my hand and squeezes.

“I promise, we’ll go home as soon as they say we can.” I smile at my ex-husband. He looks away and mumbles softly, “We were so scared, Hermione. Me and the kids had a rough time. I’m glad that you and the boys are all right.” I place a reassuring hand on his arm and he looks at me with sad eyes.

“Thanks, Ron, for staying with the kids, yesterday. I’m sorry to ruin your Christmas.”

He shushes me with a kiss to my forehead. “You didn’t ruin anything. I got to spend Christmas with my children. How could that be ruining anything?” My heart leaps at his words. He is a good father, when he wants to be. He then proceeds to tell me about everything that they did yesterday. I wanted to cry. I was so jealous. I wish I could have been there.

After a few moments, I wipe my tears with the sleeve of my hospital gown. Damn this drafty thing. I want to go home. How long do I have to stand this torture? As if reading my mind, a mediwitch comes in with a clipboard in hand.

“Mrs. Potter?” I love the sound of that.

“Yes.”

The young woman comes closer and waves her wand slowly over my pregnant belly. I can see my babies entwined with each other. I hear a small gasp beside me and feel Ron squeeze my hand.

“They’re beautiful,” he breathes. I smile brightly. I couldn’t agree more.

The picture of my children dissolves into thin air and I look up at the smiling mediwitch. “It looks like you and the babies are doing fine. You just need to stay off your feet. Slow down. And no intense magic around you for the next few months. Healer Morningstar wants to see you in a couple weeks to check everything. Try to control your emotions and your hormones. We don’t want anything blowing up on you,” she teases. Ha! Ha! That is so funny. I can’t even make love to my husband for Merlin’s sake. You really expect me to control the raging hormones that this pregnancy has produced? Whatever.

Ron thanks the mediwitch for me, as I am seething in my raging hormones. He walks to the wardrobe and pulls out the clothes I was wearing yesterday when Harry brought me here. I am slightly embarrassed as I stand up to reveal my arse sticking out the back of the blasted gown. If Ron noticed, he didn’t say anything. Well, we were married for ten years, he’s seen me in more humiliating circumstances. He helps me dress myself. If I have to have people helping me do everything for the next four months, I am going to literally go insane.

I growl in frustration as my blouse gets stuck on my head. Ron sniggers and I want to hex him through the bloody wall. I have had one of the hardest days of my life, and I don’t need his shit right now. I realize that he hasn’t spoken a word since the mediwitch left.

“Ron, are you all right?”

He buttons up my cloak for me and looks into my eyes. I’m not sure what I see in them, but its something that hasn’t been there in a long time. “I was scared, Mione. I thought we were going to lose you, or the babies, or both. I wouldn’t have been able to handle that. I was scared for Harry and the kids. God, Hermione, I had never felt such fear in my life, not even when we fought Voldemort.” I could see small tears welling in his eyes and I pulled him into my arms. My Ron. He’s been ‘My Ron’ since we were eleven, and he will always be ‘My Ron.’ Same goes for Harry, too. I have two of the best friends a woman could ever ask for. I know its strange that I was married to one and am now married to the other, but we’re all still best friends; and I pray that will never change.

“Everything’s all right now, Ron. It was just a false alarm,” I try to reassure him as I run my fingers through his hair.

“Mione, when Harry flooed me yesterday morning, I saw such fear in his eyes. I had never seen him truly terrified, until that moment. I know that you are his now, but if we would have lost you, it would have killed me.”

My lips graze his forehead. I love this man. I do. We had ten years together, how could I not love him? “I know, Ron. Let’s not think about the ‘what if’s and let’s just go home. I bet Lavender is waiting for you and I really want to see the kids and Harry.”

He nods as he fiercely wipes his eyes. “Let’s get you home, Mione.”

Ron leads me down the hall past the information station and to the Apparating Point. I can’t apparate by myself; my magic is too unpredictable now. But at the same time, whoever the caster is, they have to be careful to not make it very powerful or the babies could have a bad reaction. At times like this, I start to hate being a witch; especially because I can’t bloody use it.

As the two of us apparate to the foyer of Grimmauld Place, I hug Ron tightly. He looks at me questioningly. “Thank you, Ron.”

“No problem.”

He lets me go with a soft peck on the cheek. I start into the common room and see Ron raise his wand , ready to apparate. Before he could go, I turned and asked. “Ron, how did you get Harry to let you come get me this morning?”

His ears immediately turn red and he smiles brightly. “He had a hard day yeaterday and I think the kids needed him, so I slipped a sleeping potion in his tea. I thought maybe you would want to surprise them and all…”

I mirror his smile. “Thank you.” He nods and without another word, disapparates.

I look around my home. I see all the opened presents under the tree along with a few still wrapped. I move over to the tree and pick up two small packages. I read one of the tags. “To My Little Brother – Love, Artie.” I look at the second box and read the same inscription. Tears tug at my eyes and I hug the gifts to my chest. Arthur can be such an angel. He has always been an emotional sort, but this was very unexpected.

I finally succeed in getting my emotions under control and place the small boxes back on the piles an trudge toward the stairs. I can’t wait to snuggle into my warm bed next to my husband. That thought guides me up the stairs and toward our room.

When I open the door, I can’t help but smile. There, in the middle of my large bed are Harry and Arthur, with Candace lying between them. My heart swells as I stand in the door and watch my family sleep. My family. Just think, it will be bigger by two in a few months. I am truly blessed.

I must have sighed too loudly, because I see Candace stir in Harry’s arms. Her big brown eyes look up to find me by the door, and the other two awaken moments later to the sudden squeal of, “Mummy!”

*

A/N – I want to thank you all for such wonderful reviews and the many emails I have received. I want to especially thank Nastya who asked if she could translate this story into Russian. I am truly honored that people like this story so much. This story has grown from my original plan of a small little fic, but I think it has turned out extremely well.

For those of you, who have complained about the time lapses between my updates, I apologize. I only work nights on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday. I write in my spare time, there. I write very little while I am at home and try to spend as much time as possible with my non-HP-reading husband and my two daughters. Fanfiction is not my life and I only write, when I am able. I apologize. I hope you all stay to finish out this story. I hope to have it finished by the end of the month.

Thank you all again for the wonderful reviews, I check my email almost constantly to see if anyone else has some wonderful comments or constructive criticism for me. I love to see my inbox fill up with review alerts. It makes my day.

Well, enough of my ramblings… adios, adieu, arrivederci, aloha, auf Wiedersehen… Goodbye… until next time. ~Coriander

30. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

“Harry, could you help me a second, please?”

I never thought that my wife’s beautiful voice would annoy me so much. I know it’s not her fault, but a man can only take so much. It has been a month since the Christmas scare, and Hermione is driving me batty. She wants to do so much and refuses our help when we offer. I wonder if every pregnant woman is as stubborn as my Mione.

I follow her voice toward the kitchen. I have to stifle my laugh at the sight before me. All I can see is my wife’s beautiful derriere sticking out of the cabinet under the sink. She’s gotten stuck again. I silently ease behind her and place my hands lightly on her hips. She jumps slightly and almost hits her head on the underside of the sink.

I can hear her cursing me as I guide her backwards and help her to straighten up. Her belly has gotten bigger and the strain on her back limits her mobility. Hence, yet another reason she should be sitting down with her feet up and letting me pamper her. But no, not my Mione; she is too damned independent and the babies are putting up a fight. Would you expect any different from my sons?

“Love, what were you doing?” I ask still trying to hide the laughter that is trying to escape.

“Don’t you dare laugh at me, Harry James Potter! I was just going to go clean the kitchen and lavatories. When I couldn’t quite reach the cleaner that was in the back of the cabinet, I got stuck.” My mock innocent expression does not help me one bit. “Stop it, Harry! It’s not funny.”

I quickly wrap my arms around my wonderfully round wife before she can leave in a huff. “Love, you know you can’t be doing that. Healer Morningstar wanted you to take the last few months easy. Let me do it for you.”

“You? Ha! You clean a lavatory? Harry, we can’t use magic, remember. I can’t picture you kneeling down to scrub around a toilet.”

“Can you physically kneel down to scrub around a toilet?” I tease.

She chuckles lightly at this. “I guess you’re right. You would have to help me up anyway and that’s getting harder by the day. By the time these babies come, you will need a bloody fork truck to pick my arse up off the floor. But honestly Harry, do you really want to clean the loo?”

“Hermione, I lived most of my childhood as the Dursley’s house elf. I did the dishes, cooked, cleaned, ironed… and all by Muggle means, no less. I know how to scrub a toilet. No, I don’t want to, but it’s better than putting you and my sons on the loo floor,” I say as I guide her out of the kitchen and into the common room.

She finally relents as I set her in the comfy armchair by the fire with a book. That should keep her occupied for a while. I kiss her softly before heading back into the kitchen to clean it… no scour it… to sanitize it. I don’t know what made Hermione a sudden sanitary freak, but nothing is aloud to be dirty, not even a little bit. I think the kids have cleaned their room twice every day just for good measure. The ‘Wrath of Mum’ was enough to put them to work in keeping everything spotless.

I look around the kitchen at the shiny counters and dusted cabinets. Even the faucet and such are immaculate. What the hell was she going to clean in here? If it were any cleaner, I would swear I was in St. Mungo’s. I quickly run a towel across the already clean surfaces, and run up the back stairs to the upstairs loo. I don’t want to go through the common room and her think that I was done already.

I proceed to sterilize the three lavatories in our home. Who needs magic? I start to head back downstairs, but before I put my foot on the first stair, I hear my lovely wife bellowing.

“Harry, my back hurts, love. Can you come and rub it for me?” At least this request has nothing to do with putting my hands in muck. I get to put my hands on her.

When I reach the bottom of the stairs, I can see her curly hair peeking over the back of the sofa. The firelight casting a red hue through her tresses made my heart skip a beat. It had been almost five weeks since I was able to make love to my beautiful wife. I couldn’t wait to get my hands on her soft skin, even for just a massage.

As she saw me come around the couch, she turned sideways so I could rub her back. I worked in slow, large circles across her hips and lower back, up her spine to her shoulders and back down. I was trying very hard to keep my mind focused on anything but the growing bulge in my trousers but the light moaning that was escaping her, was quickly crumbling my resolve.

I think she felt it too. Her head rolled back, exposing her neck to my hungry gaze. My lips found her pulse point without effort and she moaned louder. This was going downhill very fast. We can’t do this. I want to, but we can’t.

Hermione’s fingers find my hair and gently pull me closer. I am surprised by her tongue delving into my mouth even before our lips meet. God, she is sexy. I want her. I have wanted her. Do you know how hard it is to lie next to someone and not be able to touch them? Damn hard, I tell you!

I kiss her feverishly. I see five weeks of hell behind me, and pure bliss right now in my arms. Somehow she has turned and I am kneeling between her knees. I get a gentle kick in my gut by one of the boys. It is so strange to feel them kick me from their mother’s womb, but I love it all the same. It is a feeling that I will never forget.

Hermione starts pulling my t-shirt over my head. I really need to take control of this. I’m afraid of what might blow up if we continue. I reluctantly pull away. It takes every last muscle in my body to force myself away from her warmth. “Mione, we can’t do this.”

She leans forward and captures my lips with hers. “Harry… please… I need you…” she whispers between kisses. Do you know how hard it is to say no to her? Do you? I risk the consequences and give in to my wife. She really had to twist my arm didn’t she?

My lips graze down her jaw and neck to her collarbone, where I linger for a few moments. Her nipples strained against the fabric of her blouse and I slowly unbuttoned it, kissing every inch of exposed skin. She gasped when my lips found her tender nipple and started sucking. I tasted something sweet and looked up at her, a question in my eyes. “It’s just the milk glands getting ready. It’s all right,” she whispers and I continue my task.

It was oddly erotic to be suckling my wife’s breast and tasting the sweetness from the pre-milk. I have never tasted anything like it before. It wasn’t a great amount, just a taste. But it was one of the most amazing experiences I have ever had. I worship her breasts for a few more moments before my lips start to graze down her belly, over my babies, and down the deep brown line to her center.

I inhale her musky scent and am in heaven. She smells and tastes like ambrosia. Oh, how I have missed this. How I have missed her. My tongue laves her folds, making quick work of her orgasm. She must have been as pent up as I was… as I am. I watch as she writhes on the sofa in ecstasy. She is so damned sexy and wanton.

I barely give her a moment to recover before I pull her to her knees and lean her forward over the sofa and quickly pulling my trousers down to free my erection. I try to hold myself in check for a moment. I have to remind myself that I can’t just drive into her like a mad dog. I slowly rub my prick up and down her slit. My name escapes her lips in a soft moan as she backs up to me. I finally give in and slide into her heat. She feels so good. She is tight and warm and wet… It takes everything I have to go slow; to be gentle, even though a few moments later she is begging me to go faster and harder. It doesn’t take me long to bring her to the edge again and I can’t help but follow her over.

Throughout the night, I made love to my wife on the sofa, on the floor, in front of the fireplace. We couldn’t get enough of each other. Her magic must have calmed down a bit in the past few weeks because the only odd things that happened were the fire in the fireplace turning a strange purple color and the candles flaring up to almost 6 inches. No explosions, no fire pouring out of the walls, no earthquakes… well, I always feel like that afterward, but that’s not the point, is it?

We lie in each other’s arms completely sated, leaning against the coffee table, when Hermione jumps a bit. I look at her questioningly. She just smiles and puts my hand on her stomach. I feel… is that a knee or an elbow? They both are moving a lot, which is a feat in itself considering there is no room in there. I surmise that they are either playing or are extremely pissed off about the recreational sports occurring on the outside.

I lay my head against her womb. I can’t hear anything but her heartbeat, but I know they are in there. “Ok, little ones, it’s time to let Mummy rest. She needs all her strength for when you finally come to meet us.” My lips linger a few moments on her exposed belly. I look at her protruding belly button and the dark line that runs down to her pubis. I will never understand all of the side effects of estrogen and hormones; thank Merlin!

I rest my head there, like a pillow, turning my head to look up to see the smiling face of my best friend, my lover, my wife. I have never felt such love before as I do when I look in her eyes. She has given me so much and will be giving me two sons in a few months. How did I get this lucky? Really, do I really deserve all of this?

I know that at this point in the pregnancy, Hermione will drive me nuts. It will probably get worse later, too. But I know, in the end it will be worth it to hold my sons in my arms. I will sacrifice anything for her, even if it is my sanity. I love her, that’s all it takes to make a man willing to be committed to a rubber room in St. Mungo’s.

I smile up at my lovely wife and see that her eyes are getting heavy. I am glad that the kids are at Ron’s tonight. It wouldn’t be very good for them to walk in and see us naked and asleep in front of the fireplace. So this is where we will sleep tonight. No kids, no interruptions, no inhibitions.

My eyes start to droop and I pull Hermione into my arms. Her skin is still warm from our earlier activities, and my skin tingles where it touches hers. As I start to succumb to the slumber beckoning me, I hear her sweet voice, “I love you, Harry.”

How could I ever think that voice was annoying? Like I said before, I would do anything for her. I would give her the world, if she asked me. I snuggle my face into her beautiful hair. “And I you, my love; more than anything.”

31. Chapter 29

A/N – Just to clarify some things from last chapter. Hermione was approximately 29 weeks along. This chapter is close to 33-34 weeks. Her technical due date is April 23. You do the math ;) Someone asked in a review about having sex during pregnancy and another mentioned it causing labor. I have experience with both instances, I have two children. Yes, you can have sex during pregnancy, it is actually encouraged in most cases. The closer a woman is to term (36 weeks or more) the more likely that sex may cause her to go into labor. But it doesn’t guarantee it. There has to be certain things already happening in the woman’s body for it to cause labor. Not only does an orgasm cause slight contractions in the uterus, but there is a chemical reaction of the sperm with the thinned cervix. If you are over due, sex can jumpstart labor. But I think Hermione is still early enough that that is not a concern… only the possibility of something blowing up from her magic. ;) I hope that helps.

Chapter 29

I stand in the doorway and look at our masterpiece; the freshly painted blue and green bedroom of my little brothers. Harry and I did it all by hand. Muggle – you know we can’t use magic, ‘cause of Mum and the babies. My heart jumps at the thought of my brothers almost being here. I can’t wait. I want to play with them and help Mum feed them and cuddle them.

I remember when Candace was born; Mum would set me on her lap with Candi in my arms. I remember playing with her red hair as she sucked on her bottle. Mum did that whole breast-feeding thing, but she would make a bottle sometimes so I could feed her. I don’t know how she’s going to do it with the twins.

I feel Harry’s hand on my shoulder and I look up at him. “It looks good doesn’t it?” I nod happily back. “You think your Mum will like it?”

“Definitely!” I answer. Mum doesn’t know that Harry and I have been doing this for the last week while she naps. She’s been so tired lately. She gets out of breath walking up the stairs and she really doesn’t like to move all that much. I know I wouldn’t want to move if I had to carry around two babies in my belly. I know its getting close. Its now the beginning of March and Mum said that the babies are due in the middle of April, give or take a month. I guess twins like to come on their own schedule.

I look back at my stepdad and then back into the room. I think Jacob and Joshua will love it. That’s what I’ve named them. Mum and Harry were taking too long to decide so I just started calling them Jake and Josh. I’m not sure if Mum really likes it, but I couldn’t keep calling them ‘Twin 1’ and ‘Twin 2.’ They needed names. Mum says that she didn’t name me until I was born. They had ideas, but when she saw me, she said I was definitely an ‘Arthur.’ She said that they got Candace’s name from when the nurse cleaned her up and handed her to Mum, she said she smelled like cotton candy. I don’t know what cotton candy is, but Mum says it tastes like sugar quills and I love sugar quills.

“When do we want to show her?” Harry asks me. I want her to come up right now and see it. It’s perfect as it is.

“How about now?” I suggest.

“Right now?

“Yep, right now.”

Harry starts to push me out of the doorway to go get Mum and Candi who are asleep in Mum’s bed at the moment. Before he pushes me completely out of the room, I remember something I forgot. I turn around and rush past Harry back into the room. I open the top drawer of the chest and pull out the two t-shirts I got the twins for Christmas. I lay the shirts over the edge of their cribs. Perfect. Absolutely perfect.

Harry smiles at me as I start back out of the room. “Let’s go get your Mum.”

Down the hall, I open the door to Mum and Harry’s room. I see Mum lying on her side with Candi wrapped around her belly. I almost didn’t want to wake them up. Almost. I quietly walk to Mum’s side of the bed and poke her shoulder lightly. “Mum?” She groans at me. “Mum, you need to wake up.”

She turns over and opens her eyes to me. “What is it Arthur?”

“Harry and I want to show you something. C’mon…” I pull her arm to urge her out of bed. I catch her give Harry a glance and he just shrugs his shoulders. After struggling with her sheets and trying not to wake up Candace, she finally gets out of bed.

Harry wraps his arm around Mum’s waist as we walk her down the hall. “Where are we going?” she asks.

“Patience, love.” Mum looks at Harry. I know that look; that’s the ‘tell me or I’ll kill you’ look. Harry just chuckles. I wish I could get away with that. Whenever she gives me that look, I can’t help but spill my guts.

We finally come to the door directly across the hall from Candi’s room. Mum looks at the two of us strangely. “Open it,” I say.

Her hand turns the knob nervously, but when the door opens she gasps. It’s like she’s in a daze. She walks into the room with glossy eyes and her mouth hanging wide open. She walks around and looks at everything without saying a word. C’mon, say something, jump up and down, do something!

When I can’t take her silence any more, I ask, “Well, do you like it?”

She then turns to me and Harry. She’s crying. Why is she crying? Does she hate it? What did we do wrong? Did we forget something? Before I can ask her anything out loud, she wraps us both into a hug.

“W-Wh-When d-did you d-do this?” I have never heard my mum stutter before, I wonder if the babies have messed her up that much.

Harry smiles at her and tells her that we had been working on it everyday while she napped. She hugs us again before looking at the room again. I followed her around and told her what all we did. Harry had enchanted the dragon mobiles above the cribs to turn when the babies are in their beds. I painted the bottom of the walls while Harry painted the tops. We built the cribs ourselves. I told her everything I could think of.

Mum was almost speechless. I don’t think my Mum could ever be totally speechless, so she was almost speechless. Every few minutes she would come and hug either Harry or I and thank us. I love seeing my Mum happy. I guess the tears she was crying earlier were because she loved it. I knew she would. I never had a doubt.

I heard Candace call for Mum from the bedroom and I went to go get her for Mum. I walked my baby sister to the babies’ room. She ran straight to the cribs and looked inside.

“Mummy, where are they?” Oh, she thinks that they were born. She expected them to be in their cribs. Mum turns around and Candace sees Mum’s still round belly. “Oh, they’re still in there,” she says bitterly as she points at Mum’s stomach.

Mum starts to kneel down in front of Candace, but Harry stops her. He picks Candi up and brings her up so they could talk to her eye to eye. “Candi, baby. They’ll be here soon. They come when they’re ready.” Mum says softly.

“But I want them now! I want Linus and Leo to come out now!” Remind me never to make my little sister mad. She has a temper…

Harry rubs her back comfortingly, “Candace, the boys will be here when they decide to come. It could be tomorrow, it could be next week, or it could even be next month. We just have to wait until then, all right?”

She nods at Harry, but her bottom lip is sticking out. She pushes off of Harry and stomps out of the room. I go after her and leave Mum and Harry in the room alone. I find my sister lying on her bed, pulling her baby doll’s hair.

“Candi?”

“Hi, Artie.” I sit on the bed beside her and rub over her hair. She likes it when I do that.

“What’s wrong?”

“I want to play with the babies.”

“I know, so do I.”

“When are they gonna be here?”

“You heard Harry. They’ll be here soon. Then we can play with them.”

“I’m gonna have a tea party with sammiches for them.”

I shake my head at her. Three-year-olds. “Candi, they won’t be able to eat them yet.”

“Why not?”

“They’ll be too little.”

“Why?”

ARRGGGHHH! Why does she have to be like Mum and want to know everything? “They just are. Do you remember the pictures in the album of me holding you?” She nods. “They be that little or even littler.”

Her face falls and that bottom lips sticks out again. “Candi, I felt the same way when Mum was going to have you. I wanted to play quidditch with you, but I couldn’t. But what I did get to do was almost as fun. I got to hold you and feed you. I got to roll around on the floor with you and make you laugh. I liked making you laugh.” I smile at her before I stick my tongue out and cross my eyes. She laughs. That’s what I was going for.

“Are you all right now?” I ask her.

“Yeah.”

“Lets go down and play some exploding snap before dinner?” She nods and follows me out the door and down the stairs. Candi runs to get the cards and Harry pulls me aside on the couch.

“Is everything all right?”

I nod, “Big Brother saves the day.”

“Yes, he does. Do you think you’ll be able to handle all three of them, Big Brother?”

I stand up and puff my chest out like Superman, you know that Muggle cartoon bloke with blue and red tights? I puff out my chest a bit more and say in the deepest voice I can, “Of course, sir. Big Brother can do anything.”

Harry laughs at me. I can’t help but laugh too. Suddenly I am being attacked by his fingers on my sides. I can’t catch my breath, but I can’t help but feel happy. I can picture me, Harry, Jake and Josh all on the floor tickling each other and laughing loudly. I can’t wait.

32. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

“All right, everyone. It’s time for cake and ice cream!”

Ice Cream? I love ice cream. I run to where I heard my mummy’s yell. She’s walking in with a giant pink cake that has… one… two… three… four… Four candles on it. I’m four years old today. YAY!

All my aunts and uncles and cousins are here. So is my mummy and daddy and Harry and Artie and Grammum and Grampa. They all came to say ‘Happy Birfday’ to me! I smile when I see all the presents on the table beside the cake. Too bad the one I really want isn’t there. I hear everyone start to sing. I look at all their smiles and start singing along…

Happy Birfday to me,
Happy Birfday to me,
Happy Birfday dear Candi,
Happy Birfday to me!

I clap my hands. I love birfdays. I start to take a deep breath to blow out the camdles, but Mummy stops me and says, “Make a wish first, baby.”

Make a wish? I get to make a wish? I know exactly what I wanna wish for. I take a deep breath, close my eyes and think, think, think… I wish… With one big blow, all the camdles go out. I clap again along with everyone else and move to let Mummy cut the cake.

*

I watch proudly as my little girl takes a deep breath, closes her eyes, makes a wish and blows out all four candles in one breath. My baby is four years old. I can’t believe it. Four years. It seems like yesterday that she was in my womb kicking me like the boys are right now.

I carefully pull out the candles and let Candace lick the frosting off the ends. Harry smiles as he hands me the knife to cut the obnoxiously pink cake. I dig the knife in and… “Ooooohhh…”

“Hermione?” Harry asks as I drop the knife on the table and hold my very pregnant belly. After a few moments, I finally catch my breath again and look up to see the concerned look in my husband’s emerald green eyes.

“I’m fine Harry. It’s just a small twinge. It’s all right.”

“Small twinge, my arse. That was a contraction wasn’t it?” he whispers harshly in my ear, as to not make anyone else panic.

“It’s all right, Harry. It’s normal. They’re not real. I still have five weeks to go. I had this with the other two kids, it’s all right,” I say reassuringly to him with a peck on the cheek. He did not look convinced. I gingerly picked up the knife and continued to cut the cake, with Harry never leaving my side.

For the next half an hour, Harry would not let me leave his sight. I love how he is so protective. It’s so cute. Annoying, but cute. I start to move all of the presents over to the middle of the floor so Candace can open them easily, but Harry, Ron and Fred decide that I shouldn’t be lifting anything, especially something as heavy as a baby doll. Merlin, help me.

I let the men think that they are being gallant and wonderful as they move all the gifts for me. You would think that I would relish moments like this, but no, I loathe them. I am not helpless; I am preg… “Ooooohhh…” Here’s another one.

Before I can sit down, Harry has his arm wrapped around me. He and Fred guide me over to the chair as I catch my breath. This one is harder, longer. I try to breath through the pressure, and before I can even think about it, it’s gone.

“Love, is everything all right?” I look into Harry’s eyes. I can’t lie to him. But I don’t know. Is it real or is it the false kind. I still have five weeks. I’ve said that before though, haven’t I?

I nod at him and try to reassure him that I am indeed all right. I look around the room and realize that the only ones to notice my moment of discomfiture were Harry and Fred. Fred is kneeling beside me, trying to not act concerned. For a prankster and an all-around pain in the arse, Fred is quite the caring man. I kiss him lightly on the forehead.

“Thanks Fred.” He nods, but doesn’t say anything. I can’t miss the concerned look in his eyes. “I’m fine, I swear.”

I call out to gather the kids around in a circle and set Candace in the middle. Harry helps me pass the presents to her. Her face is beautiful as she opens each gift. The paper and ribbons start to cover the floor and soon all I can see is the top of her red head behind a pile of paper, and she’s only halfway through the presents. I stand up to clear the paper and feel a sudden release of pressure and something warm and wet trickling down my legs.

“Bloody hell!”

“Mummy!” Candace yells. I look up to her and see her smiling face. She knows what’s happening. She can see it in my mind. It sucks to have such a powerful child sometimes. I nod at her and she jumps up and starts dancing.

“It worked! It worked! My wish came true!”

Harry, who just walked back in the room from fetching a garbage bag, kneels beside her and asks, “What wish, baby?”

“The wish I just made when I blowed out my camdles. I wished that my baby brovers would be borned soon.”

“They will be born soon. But we still have a few more weeks,” he says to her and pats her head lightly. But Candace won’t have anything to do with that.

“No, Harry. They’re gonna to be borned on my birfday. They’re gonna be borned today!”

Harry looks over at me… hell, everyone’s looking at me. I meet my husband’s gaze, smile and nod. The look on his face is priceless. I wish Colin Creevey were here right now, just to take the picture for posterity’s sake.

“Now?” he asks me shakily.

I nod again, “Yes, Harry. My water just broke.”

“Your water just broke?”

I nod, yet again. Does he have to repeat me? I am standing her in a puddle of amniotic fluid, and he is standing there repeating what I say…

“Don’t just stand there, Harry. Take her to the bloody hospital.” Thank you George, the voice of reason. I never thought I would ever say that, but at this moment, anything is possible.

Harry finally comes to his senses and pulls me to his side. Molly comes over and pushes us toward the door, assuring us that they will finish the presents and clean up. Someone, thank Merlin, remembered to summon my overnight bag for the hospital and we are off. I stare back at my children who are smiling and yelling how much they love me. My heart hurts. First, I miss Christmas and now Candace’s birthday. What kind of mother am I? I stop midstep and fight back the tears that urge to come.

“Mione?”

I look up at him. I feel like the worst mother in the world. “I don’t want to go yet. It’s Candace’s birthday. I missed Christmas, and now this. I’ve at least got a couple of hours. I can sta… Ooooohhh…”

“No, love, we are going to St. Mungo’s. Ginny already summoned Healer Morningstar, he’ll be waiting for us. Besides, I think the kids are too excited to be upset that you had to leave. It was Candi’s wish after all.” How he is he being so rational? He was the one who was freaking out five minutes ago. I look back at the house once more as Harry urges me to the street. He holds out his wand hand and in moments I hear the rumbling of the Knight Bus as it approaches Grimmauld Place.

I look down the street at the ugly purple bus. I abhor riding in that monstrosity, but at this point I have no choice. Harry can’t apparate us, due to the amount of magic involved and the Floo is definitely out of the question; I don’t think I’d fit anyway. So here we are boarding the big purple monster of a bus to go to St. Mungo’s.

Harry stops to talk to the driver who is smiling at me, if you want to call it a smile; he’s missing more than half of his teeth. I shudder slightly before returning the gesture. The driver then nods to the bed closest to the door. Because we’ll ‘need to get out in a hurry.’ If I have to do this right now, just get me to the blasted hospital.

Harry sits down beside me and pulls me into his arms. Everything goes away. All my inhibitions, nervousness, anxiety… everything vanishes in his arms. I feel his warm lips softly on my hairline. “I love you,” he whispers.

My heart warms and my skin tingles at the power of the emotion in his voice. “I love you too, Harry.”

Harry’s strong hands come to rub the huge bulge of my belly. I can see the excitement in his eyes. “You’re going to be a dad in a few hours, Harry.”

“I know, it’s awesome,” he says against my abdomen and lays his head down to feel the babies under his cheek. My hand comes up without prompting to run my fingers through his unruly hair.

I try to contain the chuckle trying to escape. I wonder what our children will look like, between his unruly locks and my bushy mess, they will undoubtedly have horrendous hair. Will their eyes be brown or green? Will their hair be black or brown? Will they look alike or not? No one ever told us if they were identical or fraternal, all we knew was that we were having two boys. Two boys. Candace and I will definitely be outnumbered now.

My mind wanders to my little girl who is probably now playing ‘Pin the Wart on the Witch” with all of her cousins. She had seen that game at a Halloween party at one of my Muggle friends’ homes, and instantly became obsessed with it. She thought it was so funny that Muggles thought witches were green and ugly. In my mind I remember the look on her face as my water broke. She was so excited, I can just picture her telling everyone that Leo and Linus are coming.

Leo and Linus. I shake my head at her idea for names of the boys. Harry must have felt me move because he looked up concernedly. I smile at him before venturing into the conversation we have had almost a thousand times. “We haven’t decided on names yet, I thought we would have more time,” I say softly. At that moment I realize what was really happening. I am on my way to St. Mungo’s to give birth to my twins, five weeks early. Before Harry can answer the name debate query my thoughts come out loud. “Do you think they will be all right, Harry? I mean, they’re five weeks early. It’s the beginning of March, they weren’t supposed to be here until the end of April. I thought we would have more time. I wanted to do so much more to get ready for them. We haven’t even thought of names, for Merlin’s sake. All we do is fight over them. This wasn’t supposed to happen this way.”

Harry’s finger to my lips stops me before I can go any further down this thought path. “Mione, they’ll be fine. I’m just as worried as you are, but Healer Morningstar is the best, you said so yourself. Our sons will be here soon and will be healthy.” He calms me with a soft kiss. I still don’t understand where this calm Harry came from. I’ve been through this twice before; I know what’s going to happen, to an extent. I am the one who is supposed to be calm. “And as for names, we will decide when we see them. I don’t want to pick names that don’t suit them, do you?”

I shake my head. He’s right. I need to calm down, everything will work out. I lie back and curl myself into Harry’s lap. If I could stay in this position all day, I would. But I am immediately thrown from his arms as the retched bus comes to a stop in front of the empty storefront that masks the entrance to St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.

Harry didn’t even have to say anything to the mannequin in the window. I think she could tell what we were doing there, because she immediately nodded and we stepped through the glass. Mediwitches and Healers were bustling around the corridors, and Harry tried to get anyone’s attention.

Finally, as I am bent over in the midst of yet another contraction, someone stopped to help us get to the Birthing Ward. This is the second time in three months that I’ve been here and I still hate it. I look up to see Healer Morningstar smiling brightly.

“They must be ready to meet us,” he says as I nod and grit through another round of pressure around my womb. He guides us to a room and sets me on the bed. “Well, let’s not make them wait any longer, shall we?”

As I lie back on the starched white sheets, I catch Harry’s eye. In his eyes, I see the love and excitement that I am feeling at the moment. Too bad he doesn’t mirror the fear and apprehension that must be seen in mine. With a soft kiss to my temple, he smiles and rubs my belly. Someone kicks him through my womb, and I laugh. They know it’s time. They want out and can’t wait to see us. And you know what? I can’t wait to see them either.

Healer Morningstar begins to examine me and eases my fears of it being too early. “Twins tend to want to come on their own schedule. Five weeks early is not all that odd. They sound and look healthy. I think you may be having these boys by the end of the day.”

“That will make Candace happy,” Harry teases. My baby girl wished this. Her biggest wish for her birthday was for her baby brothers to be born.

I look up at my husband. He is listening intently to the Healer. I can’t help but soak in the fact the Harry is my husband; that we are going to be parents together; that these boys are his sons. You would think that all these things would have occurred to me before, and they have. But now, it seems so surreal.

Harry catches me staring at him and smiles. His emerald eyes are sparkling at me. “I love you, Harry.”

“I love you, too Mione. Thank you.”

“For wha…” Damn these contractions. Breathe. Slowly. Inhale and exhale. In… out. I hear Harry murmuring the words that are reverberating in my head.

“That’s good, love. In and out. Breathe, love.” As my breathing become regular again and the pain and pressure subside, he leans over and kisses me sweetly. “Thank you for being my wife. Thank you for carrying my sons. Thank you for going through all of this for us. You are amazing.”

Amazing. I never really thought about it, but I guess all this is amazing. To think that our love for each other produced two babies who have grown in my womb over the last eight months. It is amazing that I will be able to hold my babies in a matter of hours. I can’t wait to hold them and kiss them and snuggle them. I look up and see Harry’s eyes shining with tears. For everything that has happened up until this point, ‘Amazing’ is actually an understatement.

*

A/N – This chapter fought me tooth and nail. I have been through labor twice and this is a combination of both of them. Some of the things Harry said to Hermione, my husband actually said to me. Awwww. :) I am sorry for the semi-cliffie. I will have the birth up as soon as I can. My fanfiction.net account has been suspended until Wednesday night, because of the new non-chapter rules they have. They had to delete three non-chapters (Author’s notes only) from three of my stories and have put my uploading on hold. Damn! So if you read this on my Aff.net and Portkey, you are reading it before anyone from ff.net. Feel lucky or privileged, however you want to look at it. :)

33. Chapter 31

Chapter 31

Breathe. In. Out. Inhale. Exha… Ow! Son of a bitch! How in the hell can I breathe when my hand is being crushed into a million pieces? I never knew my wife was so strong. I fight the tears that are welling up from the pain radiating from my hand up my arm. Concentrate man. You can do this. Women have babies everyday, and their husbands survive. Yeah, but they don’t have one of the most powerful witches as their wife.

My wife. I look down into her lovely face, which is now scrunched up and sweaty from all the exertion of her contractions. Her hair is matted against her head and she has horrendous circles under eyes. She is beautiful; scary as hell, but still beautiful. How could I not think she is beautiful when she is giving birth to my sons?

The contraction eases up along with her ferocious grip on my hand. I slowly ease my hand away to crack the knuckles and stretch the aching joints. She notices and looks at me with those big brown puppy dog eyes. “I’m sorry Harry. I’m not hurting you am I?”

“Oh no, love. My hand was just getting a bit cramped from holding on to you so hard. I hope I’m not hurting you.” Good one, if I do say so myself. No use making her feel bad when she is in so much pain already.

“No, Harry, you’re not hurting me, but your sons sure as hell are.” She sends me a weak smile before her eyes give into fatigue and close. She’s been having contractions now for eight hours. I know she has to be exhausted. Every two minutes between contractions, she lets her eyes close to rest.

I kiss her softly on her sweaty forehead before wiping it off with a cloth. I feel so bad that she has to go through all this. But I guess, in the end it will be worth it to hold our babies. I just hate to see her hurting. I remember during our seventh year when she was hit by a stray spell in Duelling. I can’t remember who or what the curse was, all I can remember is Hermione writhing in pain in a bed in the hospital wing for three days. I had stayed with her through most of it, even though I was underneath my invisibility cloak. She was dating Ron, it wouldn’t have looked good for me to be with her more than her boyfriend, now would it?

I am brought out of my musings by her hand searching for mine. I brace myself for the painful squeeze and she doesn’t let me down. I try to whisper encouraging words in her ear like, “You’re doing great, love,” or “It’s almost over, “ and “I love you.” She keeps her eyes closed this time. This one’s longer than the last. Breathe. In. Out.

As the pain in my hand subsides, I look up to see Healer Morningstar entering the room. “Well, how are we?”

Hermione opens her eyes and shoots the Healer the worst death glare I have ever seen her give. He chuckles and winks at me. “Madam Potter, you are doing wonderful. Your sons will be here soon. Lets just see how they are doing.”

I watch fascinated as he waves his wand over her belly and watch the glow in her womb deepen as another contraction builds. Before I can focus on the floating picture of my babies, I watch as the Healer lifts the sheets and looks between my wife’s legs. OK, I’m not sure if I really like that aspect of the whole ordeal. I don’t feel comfortable with anyone looking there unless it’s me.

Oh bloody hell! Now his hand has disappeared under the sheet. What the hell does he think he’s doing? I look at Hermione who seems oblivious to what is happening down below. What the hell is going on?! I clear my throat rather rudely at the Healer. The man looks up and smiles at me. He fucking smiles at me.

“Well, she’s at ten centimeters. I think its time to start pushing these boys out,” he says. A sudden sense of panic overshadows any hatred I felt for this man who had looked at and felt my wife’s nether regions. My son’s are about to be born. I look up at my beautiful wife. She smiles as best she can, considering the circumstances. God, I love this woman.

Healer Morningstar guides me up to sit behind Hermione on the bed. “Harry, you’re going to help her push. When I say so, help her lean forward into the push. She needs to push from her diaphragm downward. It should some natural to her, but you need to know what’s going to happen.” I nod as I feel Hermione tense in my arms. Here we go.

I lean forward as she pushes down eliciting an ethereal groan from her. I have never heard anything so natural, so elemental in my life. I lean over and kiss her lightly on the shoulder as she relaxes back into me. “You’re doing great, love. I am so proud of you.”

I am surprised that she has been so calm through all of this. I have seen many a Muggle movie that shows the woman yelling obscenities and cursing the father of her child. Hermione has yet to do that. I think she might wait until they are five years old and inadvertently hexing each other before she starts blaming me. At least that’s what I hope for.

I guide her breathing. We are as one. I can feel her body move with each breath. I can feel her heart beating through her back and into my chest. It seems so surreal, that is until another contraction comes and we are pushing together once more. This goes on for another half an hour, or maybe it was only fifteen minutes, I don’t know. But the next thing I know is Healer Morningstar is looking at us. “Just one more push and your first son will be here.”

I can’t help but smile. My son. I help pull Hermione’s knees up to help the push along. She screams for a moment; but the Healer smiles.

“Hermione, give me your hand,” the Healer says and guides my wife’s hand to the juncture between her legs.

“Harry, you’ve got to feel this,” she says hoarsely. I reach down and meet her fingers.

I feel something slimy and hairy coming from between my wife’s legs. “Is that?”

She nods and turns to peck my cheek. “That’s his head, Harry. He’s almost here.” My heart leaps as I sit back and try to pull my wife into my arms. Before I can relax, she is pushing again. Suddenly, the Healer stops and tells her not to push anymore. What’s wrong? Why shouldn’t she push anymore? What’s going on?

“Just a little push this time, Hermione. 1 – 2 – 3…”

With that one push, I see the Healer catch what I am assuming to be my baby. A mediwitch comes and lays a blanket on Hermione’s still round belly. I watch in awe as Healer Morningstar brings up a slimy, purple, pruny little being and lies him on the blanket. He is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my life. I reach my hand out to touch him and meet Hermione’s fingers as they brush across his soft red cheek.

“He’s beautiful,” she breathes. She took the words right out of my mouth. I kiss her softly on the temple. I can’t even think of words to describe what I am feeling at this moment. I want to hold him and cuddle him, but before I can even think it again, the mediwitch says a spell to clean out his mouth and nose and he immediately starts crying; music to my ears. With the quick flick of her wand, she severs the cord attaching him to my wife. The little purple button that is left sticking out from his belly is quite cute in a disgusting sort of way.

He quickly starts to turn from a purplish color to a nice pink. His hair is dark, but it may just be that he hasn’t been cleaned up yet. We will see later. The mediwitch takes the baby away to a little table to examine him. I miss him already. How can you love something so much that you’ve only had for under a minute?

Suddenly, Hermione groans again and pushes forward. Oh that’s right, there are two in there. The process begins again. Push. Breathe. Push. Hold on. “One more small push.”

Again the Healer looks like he is catching a quaffle. And I smile at the sudden sense relief I see flood my wife’s features. The Healer again puts the baby on Hermione’s stomach, which is not noticeably softer and flatter. He is just a beautiful as his brother. Again, this one has dark hair. I can’t wait to see their eyes. The mediwitch casts the spells and he is lying there naked, with a nubbin protruding out of his belly and a set of lungs that are being used quite effectively.

The cries of my sons sound different yet alike. I can already tell them apart. I look down at the woman in my arms. “I love you, Mione.”

“I love you too, Harry.”

We sit there contentedly watching the mediwitches fawn over the wriggling screaming bundles across the room. My sons. Our sons. Leo and Linus? No. Jacob and Joshua? No. James and Sirius? No. “Any ideas?” I ask without taking my eyes of the babies.

“I don’t know,” she answers. OK, this is not good. We can’t name our boys ‘Twin 1’ and ‘Twin 2’ can we? It might be easier, but I think they would resent us for the rest of their lives.

I think for a minute. “I’ve been thinking about a couple and I think they fit.” I look at her for approval before going on. She nods lightly. “How about Alexander James and Andrew Sirius?”

She turns to look at me and then at our boys. “Alexander and Andrew. The protector and the courageous…”

It’s my turn to look surprised. “Yeah, that’s what they mean. I looked at names starting with ‘A’ like Arthur, and these two popped out at me. How did you know their meanings?”

She smiled as she looked across the room at the small flailing arms and legs. “I looked at those two too, I liked them a lot. It fits. Arthur’s name means Strength. Alex would be the Protector and Andrew means Courageous. I think the middle names fit too. James, your father, was your protector; and Sirius was as courageous as they come.”

I can see a few tears leaking down her cheek and I wipe them away with my thumb. I never thought about the connection of the middle names. It is quite overwhelming. I like they way they sound. But it’s all up to the boys. The mediwitch comes and sets the eldest of the two in my arms and the other in Hermione’s. I’m a dad. I can’t believe it.

I look down at the baby in my arms. “Hi Alex. Do you like that? Alexander James Potter.” I watch amazed as his dark blue eyes flicker open. I take that as a yes. “All right, Alex it is,” I say as I kiss his sweet forehead.

Hermione is holding the other boy whose eyes are wide open and as green as mine. The baby is staring up at his mother. His mother. Hermione and I are parents. It’s unreal. I run a finger across Alex’s features, comparing them to those of his little brother.

“Andrew,” her sweet voice brings me back to reality for a moment. “Andrew Sirius Potter. He looks just like you, Harry.” I smile and nod as I kiss her sweetly. We sit for a while in comfortable silence, reveling in the children in our arms. I find myself thinking only of my family; Hermione, Arthur, Alexander, Andrew and Candace. Candace.

I smile. “Well, Candi will be happy, her brothers were born on her birthday.” I look up at the clock on the wall that said one-thirty.

Hermione smiles back at me. “No, Harry I think we missed it by about an hour, March 11th, the day after Candace’s birthday.”

“Well she still got her birthday wish. I don’t think she’ll mind that they were almost an hour late. She still got them.”

Hermione and I continued to fawn over our little boys. We were so enthralled by them that we didn’t even notice that the Healer and mediwitches had gone. It was just us. It was almost perfect. The only thing that would make it better would be Arthur and Candace sitting here with us.

I get up and put Alex in his bassinet and gently extract Andrew from Hermione’s arms. She is exhausted. Her eyes keep trying to fall closed. I tuck the babies in and go back to the bed. I slide in beside my wife and gather her into my arms. It didn’t take long to fall into the same breathing rhythm and for both of us to fall asleep dreaming of our two new babies.

34. Chapter 32

Chapter 32

I wake up to hear a soft voice singing from across the room. My eyes open to see my husband sitting in a rocking chair holding both of our eight-hour-old sons. It is a sight to behold, indeed. My heart swells larger than I could ever imagine. Harry looks so natural holding the babies, and his voice is amazing.

I never knew Harry could sing. I am quite surprised. The most I’ve ever heard him sing is when he sings along to the wireless or when we were dancing together on his birthday and when we went dancing at ‘Fantasia Incantado.’ I guess I should have known that Harry could sing, I guess I never paid attention.

I shift in the bed to get more comfortable. He still hasn’t noticed that I’m awake. I just sit and watch. He is beautiful sitting there being the proud papa. Harry finally has the family he always dreamed of; at least I hope it’s the family he’s always dreamed of. As I watch him and listen to his voice, my mind wanders to when Ron and I were here for Arthur and Candace’s births.

I was so in love with Ron then. I remember how much he grew up the minute he held Arthur in his arms. We were so young then. Well, I guess twenty-one isn’t all that young. He was so happy to be a dad. The love in his eyes was all for the brown-haired boy in his arms. I thought he would be disappointed that he didn’t have red hair, but he claimed that he wanted him to look like me; that there were enough redheads to last us a while.

When Candace was born, we had such a hard time. We were so scared that we would lose her. She was blue when the Healer placed her on my stomach and it took a few minutes for her to get the air into her lungs to let out her first cry. That was the longest two minutes of my life. She was truly a miracle. Technically, the twins’ birth was easy compared to hers.

I smile as I focus once more on the raven-haired man and the two miniature versions of him in the corner. I can’t describe the feeling in my heart at the sight of the three of them. I always knew that Harry would make a wonderful father, and I was right. He’s a natural. I listen to the tune he is singing, it’s the song he used to sing to Arthur and Candace when they were little. He said he heard Seamus singing it once in the dormitories back at Hogwarts and it just kind of stuck.

Toora, loora, loora
Toora, loora, li
Toora, loora, loora
Hush, now, don't you cry
Ah,
Toora, loora, loora
Toora, loora, li
Toora, loora, loora
It's an Irish lullaby

Over in Killarney, many years ago
My mother sang this song to me in tones so sweet and low
Just a simple little ditty in her good old Irish way
And I'd give the world if she could sing that song to me this day

Toora, loora, loora
Toora, loora, li
Toora, loora, loora
Hush, now, don't you cry
Ah,
Toora, loora, loora
Toora, loora, li
Toora, loora, loora
It's an Irish lullaby

I wonder if Harry’s mum sang to him when he was a babe. I’m sure she did, but I wish he could have known for sure. I know he misses his mum, even though he doesn’t remember her. He misses the childhood that he was robbed of. I know he’s going to make sure that his sons don’t lose their innocence of youth, like he did. In some ways, this is his childhood too. It’s like he lives vicariously through Arthur and Candace, and now through Alex and Drew.

We decided last night that we would call Andrew ‘Drew’ because ‘Andy’ sounds too much like ‘Candi.’ Well, we didn’t necessarily decide, I did. I think. I may have dreamed it for all I know. I had a hard day yesterday, after all. Birthing twins is not exactly a walk in the park. I chuckle lightly to myself at my sleepy humor and see a pair of emerald green eyes smiling at me.

“G’morning, love.”

“It’s a very good morning,” I smile back at him as I try to sit up further in bed. He stands up and brings my babies to me. Alex is wide-awake, while Drew is sleeping in the crook of his father’s arm. I take Alex into my arms and he instinctively nuzzles to my breast.

“I guess someone is hungry.” I look up at Harry and smile as I lift my gown to feed my son. I can’t help but smile. I am so happy right now, looking at the love of my life holding Drew to his chest. I sigh at the wonderful feeling of a baby suckling on my breast. This is one of the most satisfying things for a mother. I look down to see Alex’s little jaw moving with each suck, and feel the pull of the glands in my breast. I close my eyes and relax, reveling in the bond created between my son and myself.

I look up and meet Harry’s eyes. He smiles and looks down at the sight of me feeding Alex. He has seen me breastfeed before, with both other children. I am not inhibited when it comes to something as natural as this. I lean up and capture his lips with mine.

“You are beautiful,” he says against my lips. Love, is a simple word and cannot even come close to describing the look in his eyes. I feel cherished, adored, treasured.

Before I can pull him down for another kiss, there is a knocking at the door followed by a small voice saying, “C’mon Daddy, I want to see my brovers.” Harry waves his hand lightly and the door swings open.

In a matter of milliseconds, Candace is up on the bed beside me watching Alex eat. “Mummy, he’s so cute.” I am glad that she is comfortable with what she is seeing. I tried to explain how the babies would be fed, but I didn’t think she understood. We shall see.

“Candace, this is Alexander James Potter.”

She looks at me strangely. “Potter? But I’m a Weasley.” Her bottom lips sticks out, she seems distraught, heartbroken.

“Harry’s their dad, Candi, and his last name is Potter. Just like Mum’s is now. We are Weasleys because that what Dad’s name is.” Arthur is so smart. He is standing next to Harry watching as Drew wakes up. I look over at Candace and she still looks confused but shakes her head and gives up.

I look over at my eldest son, whose finger is being gripped by his little brother. “This little man is Andrew Sirius Potter,” Harry says as Arthur leans over and places a soft kiss on the baby’s forehead. I look around at the five of us and smile. This is my family.

Something catches my eye by the door, and I look over to see Ron standing there smiling. “Come over here, Ron. I want you to meet your godsons.”

His eyes go wide. “Godsons? You want me to be their godfather?”

“Yeah, mate. Who else?” Harry asks as he places Drew in Ron’s arms.

I never thought that Ron would be so surprised by this revelation. Who else would we have asked? Honestly. I look over to see my ex-husband, my best friend, wipe his eyes fiercely to hide the fact that he is crying.

“I- I don’t deserve the honor.” Ron turns to look at me. “Mione, I hurt you. You have to think that someone else might be more suited. I’m your ex. How strange is that?”

I look into his blue eyes and see his guilt and grief swimming in them. “Ron, you are my best friend. You are Harry’s best friend. I trust you with my life and the lives of all of my children. Please, agree to this. I want to know that they will be taken care of, if something happens.”

Ron’s eyes dart between mine and Harry’s before he wraps Harry in a fierce one-armed hug. “Of course I will.” A small squeak comes from between the men’s bodies. Andrew is starting to get hungry now. Harry swaps babies with me, and I put Drew to my other breast. We all sit around talking and laughing and cooing over the twins for quite a while.

Ron left sometime around lunch, when Harry took Candace and Arthur down to the cafeteria. I was left in my room alone with my two babies. I laid them on their backs between my legs on the bed. They automatically curled around each other, like they were in my womb. The bond between twins is astounding. I know from this moment that these boys will never be far from each other.

I think of Fred and George and how they used to finish each other’s sentences. How they always seemed to know when something was wrong with the other. They were each other’s best friends. I look down at my sleeping boys. They will be the same way, I just pray they aren’t exactly like Fred and George. I don’t think my voice would be able to stand all the howlers I would have to send.

I guess I fell asleep in the midst of my thoughts, because the next thing I know, Harry is kissing my hairline trying to wake me up. I look to where the boys were laying on the bed and they are gone. Where are my babies? I sit up and survey the room. My heart leaps at what I see in the rocking chair. Candi and Arthur are squashed together in the seat and each one is holding a baby. They look so cute. Candace is doing very well; we’ve been practicing with her dolls on how to hold a baby. She is supporting Alex’s head and neck while whispering softly to him.

Harry sits on the side of the bed beside me and pulls me into his arms. I feel his soft lips against my shoulder before he rests his chin there. “Love you,” he whispers.

“I love you.” I sit there leaning back into my husband’s arms watching my children sitting together. I feel a slight wetness on my shoulder where Harry’s chin is resting. I turn my head to see tears falling unchecked down his cheeks. I kiss him lightly. No words need to be said. Words would only take away from it all. He nods toward the four kids and says, “Listen.”

I strain my ears to hear Arthur singing lightly to his little brothers.

Toora, loora, loora…

*

A/N – Almost done. One more. Sorry. I hope you liked this one. I have been having problems concentrating. I have depression and my medication has been changed, and not for the better. So, needless to say, I am struggling. I hope to have the next/last chapter up soon. I am planning a sequel, but it may be a while before it is up, maybe a month or more. Thank you all for your support and reviews. I love you all.

35. Chapter 33

Chapter 33

July 31, 2011. My thirty-first birthday. There’s no party, no dancing. I am quietly celebrating my birthday with my wife over a glass of chardonnay on a picnic blanket in the back garden. My wife. I look over at Hermione, my best friend, my wife, my soul mate. She is the most beautiful creature on the face of the earth. My mind ventures over what the last year has brought me, and I smile.

Last year at this time, I was lying in my bed dreaming of my best friend. Wishing that she were mine, instead of Ron’s. I still remember the look in her eyes as she sat slumped at my doorstep that night. I never want to see her like that again. I didn’t mean to tell her that I was in love with her, but now, I wouldn’t change a thing. She is mine for the rest of our lives.

I look out over the garden and into the sunset, which reminds me of color of Candace’s hair. Speaking of the four-year-old, she is currently chasing the gnomes out of the garden. Her red curls are flowing behind her as she chases the ugly creatures. I couldn’t help but laugh at her when one of the gnomes stopped and tripped her. She wasn’t hurt, but she stood up and laid into the bugger with her most ferocious Hermione tone. I loved it.

My eyes catch a glimpse of movement above us and I look up to see my stepson chasing a charmed quaffle. Arthur is ten now, one more year until Hogwarts. I watch him proudly as he flies around on my Firebolt. Yes, Hermione finally gave in and let him fly an actual broom. He is quite good. He reminds me so much of his father and uncles. Arthur is unmistakably a Weasley, sans the red hair.

I love my family. Family. Honestly, I had almost given up on the idea of having a family. I could never see me with anyone other than Hermione, and she had been married to Ron. I couldn’t picture myself having a family with anyone else. I honestly could never see myself in love with anyone else. This past year has brought me so much.

My thoughts are ceased at the sound of a shrill cry from inside the house. Hermione jumps up to fetch the crying baby. It sound like Drew from here, but I could be wrong. I watch the sun continue to fall behind the horizon as my son’s cries are hushed and my wife appears with the baby in her arms.

“Come to Daddy,” I say to Andrew as I reach out my arms to him. He smiles his toothless grin and reaches for me in return. I take my four-month-old son into my arms and blow raspberries over his cheeks. He laughs. I love the sound of my sons’ laughs. Drew has more of a giggle, while Alex chuckles. I could live every day just on the happy sounds that my boys make.

Drew snuggles into my chest and I lay back so that he will go back to sleep. With a few strokes of my hand over his back, his breathing slows and his eyes close. Asleep. They are so precious when they are asleep. Well, they’re precious all the time, but especially when they’re asleep. I gently kiss the top of his head and Hermione reaches over and offers to take him back to bed.

“Just a little more, Mione. I love holding them like this.” I close my eyes and concentrate on the feel of my son’s heartbeat against my chest. It is soothing, calming. I could honestly fall asleep like this too.

My eyes open when I feel Hermione get up beside me. She starts to gather the picnic basket, wine and scones that we enjoyed earlier. The view of her backside bending to pack everything up is awakening certain areas of my body. I inwardly growl at my arousal, or at least at the cause of said arousal. She turns around and smiles. I guess my growl wasn’t so inward.

I get up as she pulls on the blanket underneath me. I am careful as not to wake up the sleeping babe in my arms. Slowly, I carry him into the house and up to bed. The blue and green room that Arthur and I painted has become a sanctuary of sorts. Everyone seems to use this room as the ‘comfort room.’ Candi brings toys in and plays while Hermione feeds the boys. Arthur sometimes does his homework or reads in here while the twins are napping. Hermione has fallen asleep many nights just sitting in her rocking chair, rocking them to sleep. I just like to come in to stare at my boys.

My boys. I’m a father, a dad. It still is hard to believe. One year ago tomorrow, Hermione and I conceived the two beautiful boys lying in their matching cribs. One year. One year ago I was alone, that was until my mouth got away from me. I make a mental note to thank the fates again today for what I have been given.

I tuck Drew into his crib and cover him with his green blanket. It’s kind of funny how the colors we picked match the boys’ eyes; green for Drew and blue for Alex. We couldn’t have picked any better. I lean over and kiss Drew’s head before moving over to kiss Alex. Goodnight, little ones.

I turn around to meet the brown eyes of my beautiful wife. She is standing in the doorway watching me. My breath hitches at the sight of her leaning against the doorframe. She is gorgeous. She’s not wearing anything extravagant or provocative, just jeans and a t-shirt, but she is sexy as hell.

“Happy Birthday, Harry,” she whispers as I close the door to the nursery. “I’m sorry we didn’t have a party this year.”

“This is the best birthday I have ever had. Please, don’t apologize. I don’t need a party. I have all I have ever wanted right here in my house.” Her lips find mine and I am lost. I back her up against the wall. Our tongues entwine and run sensuously together. My previous arousal has decided to make an encore appearance. I want to make love to her. I want to bury myself deeply in her and show her just how much I loved my birthday. The clearing of a throat brings us out of our hormonal haze. We look up to see Arthur smiling at us.

“Harry, we have a surprise for you downstairs.” A surprise? I look at Hermione and she shrugs her shoulders innocently. Innocent my arse. I follow Arthur downstairs. He turns around and tells me to cover my eyes. I do as he says and follow his lead into the kitchen.

“Open them.”

I open my eyes to see Candace holding a snitch-shaped cake that says ‘Happy Birthday Dad’ in bright red lettering. Dad? I look down at the little girl and ask her an unspoken question.

“Yes, it says, ‘Happy Birthday Dad.’ You’re our dad too, you know,” she says seriously. She is the spitting image of her mother, attitude and all. I smile through the tears trying to spill over. I take the cake and place it on the table, before capturing my two stepchildren in my arms.

“I love you two. Thank you.”

Arthur smiles, “You’re welcome Dad.” I love the sound of that. I can’t stop the tears from flowing freely. I look up at Hermione and see that her eyes are just as watery as mine. I kiss the two kids on the cheek, wipe my eyes and stand up to take a better look at the cake.

“I made it all by myself,” Candace says proudly, but then whispers, “Artie turned on the oven and mixed it and poured it and baked it, but I did it all by myself.” I chuckle. She is so damned cute.

“Well, I am sure it is delicious. Lets dig in.”

The four of us sit around the table and eat the delicious cake that they made especially for me. This is definitely the best birthday I have ever had. I could never have imagined spending my birthday like this, but now, I don’t know how else I would want to celebrate it.

We play a few games of Exploding Snap before sending the kids up to bed. Now, it’s just me and Mione. I hear her footsteps on the stairs and turn to see the woman of my dreams standing on the bottom step. She has changed clothes. The jeans and t-shirt have been replaced by a slinky green negligee. The garment is sheer enough to see the hint of what is hidden, but not make out ever detail.

She smiles and sits on the piano. The piano. I remember making love to her on the piano, the night I proposed. I walk over to her and settle myself between her knees. My hands find her hips and I kiss her deeply. She pulls away, “Not yet, Mr. Potter.”

What does she have on her mind? Her legs guide me to the side toward the keyboard. “Sit,” she says as she pushes me down to the piano bench. I look at her curiously, but there is a fiery look in her eyes, one that I know not to question.

“You have the piano here for a reason, yet I have never heard you play it. Will you play for my, Harry?” I smile. No, I have never played for her. I am actually quite shy about my piano playing. I only learned to play by ear when Dudley was forced to take lessons.

I look into her eyes as I place my fingers on the keys. I take a few deep breaths and start to play the song that helped me get through being without her; the one we danced to last at the ‘Fantasia Incantado.’ My voice cracks as I start to sing softly.

If you’re not the one then why does my soul feel glad today?

If you’re not the one then why does my hand fit yours this way?

If you are not mine then why does your heart return my call?

If you are not mine would I have the strength to stand at all?

I never know what the future brings

But I know you are here with me now

We’ll make it through

And I hope you are the one I share my life with

I don’t want to run away but I can't take it, I don't understand

If I'm not made for you then why does my heart tell me that I am?

Is there any way that I can stay in your arms?

If I don’t need you then why am I crying on my bed?

If I don’t need you then why does your name resound in my head?

If you’re not for me then why does this distance maim my life?

If you’re not for me then why do I dream of you as my wife?

I don’t know why you’re so far away

But I know that this much is true

We’ll make it through

And I hope you are the one I share my life with

And I wish that you could be the one I die with

And I pray in you’re the one I build my home with

I hope I love you all my life

I don’t want to run away but I can't take it, I don't understand

If I'm not made for you then why does my heart tell me that I am

Is there any way that I can stay in your arms?

'Cause I miss you, body and soul so strong that it takes my breath away

And I breathe you into my heart and pray for the strength to stand today

'Cause I love you, whether it's wrong or right

And though I can't be with you tonight

And know my heart is by your side

I don't want to run away but I can't take it, I don't understand

If I'm not made for you then why does my heart tell me that I am

Is there any way that I can stay in your arms?

My eyes never left hers throughout the song. She is my everything. I would do anything for her. I hope she realizes that. She slips down the front of the piano, over the keys, making a horrendous sound, before settling onto my lap. My arms wrap around her and my lips search for hers. I kiss away a few stray tears on her cheeks and I feel her pull me harder into her embrace.

“Thank you, Harry. It was beautiful. I love you.”

“I love you, too”

I kiss her once more as I grind her into the straining bulge in my trousers. A soft moan escapes before she pulls back from me. I search her eyes. “Harry, will you sing for me again sometime?”

I smile. “I will do anything for you, love.”

She smiles, stands up and pulls me upstairs to our room. I am going to show her how much I love her. I am going to make her feel what I feel when I am with her; all the electricity and magic that flows between us. I love her more than anything and I will do anything and everything for her.

Last year, at this time I would have done anything to have her. Now that I have her, I will do all I can to show her what she means to me. I will do all I can to make sure she is by my side for the rest of my life. I want to be with her to watch our kids grow up. I can’t wait to see them off to Hogwarts, and then out into the world. I know that we have a long time until that happens, but I will show her everyday what she means to me. Everything.

*

Final Author’s Note – Thank you, Thank you, Thank you! I never expected to have such a response to this story. I have almost 500 reviews on ff.net, and over 650 on Portkey.org. I can’t believe it.

I am happy, yet sad, to see this story end. I have an idea for a sequel that chronicles Ron’s life two years after ‘Anything for Love.’ If it tells you anything, it will stay with the shipping requirements on Portkey.org. Shhhh. Don’t give any more hints. LOL. It may be a while before I have it out. Harry and Hermione are easy to get into their minds, but Ron is a bit harder, not to mention his love interest. Give me a few months at least. My updates will be slow until I can get all the plot bunnies that are frolicking in my mind out on paper, or at least posted somewhere.

Please check out my homepage at home.earthlink.net/~icoriander for updates or to be added to my mailing list. I would love to thank everyone personally for their reviews and loving comments, but that would take forever. Please know that I love you all and appreciate your criticism and praise. Thank you again. Have I said thank you enough? If not, thank you.

Adios ~Coriander

36. Update from Author

I would like to apologize for my absence for such a long time. I just started rereading my works, and I read some of the reviews too. Looking back on when I wrote this story and what has happened in my life since, it is rather spooky. I started this at the beginning of 2003 and finished it almost a year later. Two months after finishing the story, I left my husband. The spooky thing is, I left him so he could be with our best friend. So similar to this story it is almost like a premonition. So to those of you who thought the story was "unrealistic," I would like to say that you are wrong. It is possible to suddenly realize that love is not necessarily the binding agent in a struggling marriage and it can happen quickly, more quickly that you can imagine. You can also be friends with your ex and can support them being with someone else. There is so much that I wrote down in this story that came true a year after it was in my head. Maybe I should take Trelawney's job.

I will be starting new stories soon, I have missed the thrill of writing. Look for a new story by Coriander soon.

@->--- ~ Coriander