Nine Months
Month 5-July
Whenever a couple expects a baby the wait becomes pleasant and uncomfortable, natural and mysterious, exasperating and sweet, scaring and encouraging in a blend of assorted feelings.
Harry and Hermione were not the exception to this; they were full of hopes and dreams, but were also very nervous and anxious to have their child in their arms and especially Harry, who had never known what a father was supposed to be like until Arthur Weasley, had many qualms about his filling the role. So while when he'd first been told that they were pregnant he was ecstatic, he'd also felt extremely inadequate and self-conscious.
When he'd confided to his father in-law (on that fateful night back in April), about his doubts, however, his response had not been what he'd expected.
"Being a father," he'd said in a tone that invoked wisdom and experience, "is not something you can learn out of a book; nor can I tell you how to be one, as every father/son relationship has a trait and a history of its own. I for one think you'll be a wonderful father, but that's something that you learn as you go. So don't worry too much about it right now, you'll cross that bridge when you come to it. However, there is something you should be extremely concerned about at present time, and that's how you behave around her raging hormones," and looking fretfully around for his wife or daughter, any pretence of wisdom and experience gone from his face, he'd then whispered hurriedly to him, "believe me, you don´t want Hermione to show you just how displeased she can get."
So, in light of this new threat, Harry had done what any smart man that was scared of his wife's wrath would do: ask every one of his mates for advice.
And he'd learned from his few fellow fathers just how different women could react to being pregnant.
He knew from Remus, his last living link to his parents, that when Lily was carrying him she had been prone to violence (even more so than usual), especially towards her husband and Sirius, who just loved to irritate her (there was a rather interesting story involving Lily, James and a pair of flying sewing needles during Mrs. Potter's seventh month).
Molly Weasley had always felt like cooking large meals-which by itself was source of joy to everyone but herself as she couldn't come anywhere near her food lest she start vomiting, but she was an overall nice pregnant lady (which was a relief, because she had been pregnant A LOT).
And Luna… well, Luna became more 'partial' to bed-time activities (which did not limit themselves to night or their own room-Harry had opted for covering his eyes whenever he Apparated in).
Hermione stayed essentially the same-with every feature of hers amplified ten-fold; so if she normally was a snappish bossy-boots of sorts, pregnancy increased her irascibility so much that sometimes Harry was afraid to even say 'hi' to her without being jinxed into oblivion, and if she was insecure about herself, her five-month-pregnant belly did nothing to improve her confidence: she would jump from meek to furious to overexcited and back to meek again with a swiftness that was sometimes overwhelming.
Harry could take her anger pretty well-he knew and loved Hermione enough to know it was her hormones acting-and when she was happy he was happy twice as much, but if there was something he absolutely hated it was seeing Hermione cry; he had never really learned to withstand a girl's tears, and the fact that it was Hermione only made it worse.
Tonight was no different.
Tonight was his birthday and whatever Hermione had planned for him it didn't look like it would be taking place anytime soon, seeing as he'd been knocking on the bathroom's door for the last ten minutes without response.
The day had started well enough-she'd surprised him with breakfast in bed (nothing too fancy, just french toast, bacon and orange juice, but he thought it was sweet nonetheless), and she'd snuck out of work to meet him for lunch, after which they'd spent the rest of the afternoon owling themselves back and forth with silly love notes and chocolate frogs like teenaged couples do.
And she'd ambushed him in his office for a hello kiss (that left him more than a little dazed) and to say to be home at seven sharp and dress nice.
But when he'd gotten home she wasn't there to greet him, their bedroom floor was covered with discarded dress robes and he could hear sniffing coming from the bathroom, from where she had yet to come out.
"Hermione, love?" he pleaded, leaning his head on the door and knocking softly once more, "Please come out?"
But his only answer was sniffing; a few more minutes passed like this with Harry calling fruitlessly her name, and he was just about to give up and use magic to open the door when it suddenly swung open and there stood Hermione in a fluffy white bathrobe, wild hair and quivering lips, the picture of unhappiness. She wasn't crying, though it was obvious to Harry that she had been, and the mere thought was enough to send his heart shattering into pieces.
Wordlessly, he opened his arms and she went willingly into them, wrapping her arms tightly around him as a single sob broke from her lips.
"Oi, sweetheart," he whispered, running a hand soothingly up and down her back, "tell me what's wrong? You know I hate to see you like this…"
Harry had an inkling suspiscion as to the reason of his wife's tears, if the mess around the bedroom was any indication, and it worried him very much; so many mood changes in such short notice couldn't be good, no matter what everyone said.
"I've tried on all my dress robes," she finally said in a broken voice, her fists twisting knots against the back of his robes, "I've tried them all, and... nothing fits."
Harry sighed, stroking her hair gently as she sniffed against his neck; he was right-she had been beating herself over her appearance again, seemingly having forgotten a particularity of her condition.
"There, there, love," he tried to reason with her, and thus demonstrating just what a fine specimen of the male species he was, "you're nearly six months pregnant, it's only natural that your old clothes don't fit as nicely as they did before, isn't it?"
When he saw her eyes rapidly begin to fill he knew he had said something very, very wrong.
"So you think I look hideous now!!!" she wailed, breaking away from him and turning to run back into the bathroom.
Talk about inserting one's foot in one's mouth., he thought, mentally kicking himself. He quickly grabbed her arm and turned her around to face him again.
"No, no, no," he began, placing his hands on her shoulders and looking down at her, "You look beautiful, darling-"
"Don't lie to me, of course I don't!!!" she said angrily, stamping her foot as tears ran copiously down her face, "I look awful!!! My skin is oily, my ankles are the size of baked hams and I could fit a house inside of me!!! I look like a beached whale and you know it!!!"
Harry began to panic as she again started to cry; he searched his head for Ted's advice. What was it that he had said again? Oh, yeah…
Nodding, he took a deep breath before squeezing his wife's shoulders lightly to get her attention. "'Mione, you're not fat; the baby is getting bigger, not you."
"Well, the baby getting bigger is making me bigger," she snapped, shrugging his hands off and glaring at him, "I'll never be as thin as I was when I married you!"
Harry's gaze softened and he took both her hands in his; he knew exactly what she was thinking, and although he found it endearing, he wanted her to always be sure of his love for her.
"Hermione, you know I don't care about looks… I'm not just in love with your body, I love everything about you, so it doesn't matter that you don't look exactly as you did before, you'll always be beautiful to me no matter what…"
Now that was a pretty good answer, he thought, feeling quite proud of himself.
"So you do think I'm fat!!!" she wailed.
Or not., he sighed, Way to go, Romeo…
He again looked down at her, taking in her features: he could never get tired of looking at her; Hermione was one of those women that, although lacking the exotic attractiveness of the kinds of Cho Chang and the Patil sisters, held an unearthly beauty about them that made them all the attractivier. The fact that it was Hermione and that she loved him (something he still was amazed to find) made her even more beautiful to his eyes.
Even now, with her hair standing every way and her face rather red and tearstreaked from crying, she looked every bit as charming as usual and he could feel his heart give a jolt.
"Harry?"
He blinked, realizing he had been staring at her with a lovesick look on his face.
He relaxed into a smile and, taking her hand, led her to the bed, helping her to sit on the edge as he himself knelt on the floor between her legs.
Hermione was looking down at him curiously, her head tilted slightly to one side with that little frown she got when she didn't know something, and he felt such a powerful rush of affection for her that he felt light-headed.
Sighing, Harry looked briefly down and then up at her, silently wishing he could find a better way to tell her how he felt. He pondered for a minute, but still feeling akward and inadequate, began anyway, "I don't have any fancy words for you-Merlin knows I'm no poet-but I know what I feel…" he paused uncertainly, then continued after taking a deep breath, "I love you, Hermione, you… the you that bits her bottom lip when she's concentrating, and furrows her brow when she's trying to figure out something... I love the way you're always willing to listen, and that you're not afraid to tell me off when I'm being a git… I love that you don't ever wear make-up, and that you get into horrible moods when you're stressed out. I love that you know exactly how much honey I like in my tea and that you always have a cup ready for me when I get home… I'm in love with your lips and how you pout when you want to get something from me; I love that you know that I know this, and that still it has never failed to work. I love that I can cry and be myself with you. I love that I can smile and laugh with you. I love your hair and eyes. I love everything about you and sure, I even love the you that nags me to put the seat down every single time I go into the bathroom…" he stopped again, smiling, cupping her cheek with his hand, "you're not fat, sweetheart, you're carrying my baby; if anything, that makes you even more beautiful to me…"
Hermione was looking at him with bright eyes, feeling overwhelmed; Harry had told her he loved her, in a million times and ways, but sometimes it became difficult to believe that someone as wonderful as him could ever love someone as plain (in her opinion) as she, especially when her hormones were so out of whack. It didn't help that gorgeous women kept throwing themselves at her husband, like that insufferable (but incredibly beautiful) tart in City of Mexico last month, and although she knew Harry loved her just the way she was, at times like these she tended to forget her perfect logic and let her old insecurities kick in.
And yet it was also at times like this, when he would look at her with those impossibly loving eyes of his and smile that impish, boyish smile at her, that there was no doubt in Hermione's heart that Harry was desperately, madly in love with her-and she should always remember that.
Sniffing a little, but looking a great deal happier, she pulled her husband up to sit next to her on the bed and then procceded to snuggle against his chest. "And you say you're no poet…"
Harry hugged her tightly, and then chuckled when he got kicked in the ribs. "Someone's getting on the way again…"
Hermione giggled, looking up at him with an impossibly bright smile. "You should feel it from this side."
Harry's eyes glinted mirthfully. "Looks like we have an active baby here… Think he or she will make it to the school's Quidditch Team? Maybe a beater, or even a chaser, you think?"
Hermione mock-scowled. "No son or daughter of mine is ever getting on a broomstick if I have my say in it! I had enough to worry about with you when we were in school."
Harry pretended to look disppointed. "That's too bad; I'd already planned to found my very own Potter Quidditch Team, what with the six or seven kids we're going to have."
Hermione looked horror-struck. "Six or seven?!"
Harry gave her as innocent a smile as he could muster. "Oh, yeah, and that's if I manage to keep my hands off you long enough to change diapers."
"Six or seven?" Hermione repeated, looking dizzy, "Dear sweet Merlin!"
Harry patted her comfortingly on the head. "Don't worry, I promise we'll build us a bigger nursery."
Hermione pouted at him. "Yeah, sure, because it's not you who gets to go through the delivering, right? Not to mention the actual pregnancy."
Harry pouted back, throwing his hands up dramatically, "Oh, alright; I compromise with five."
Hermione looked amused. "Three."
"Four and that's my last offer!"
Hermione burst out laughing, and Harry followed soon after; as their giggling gradually died down to chuckling and then silence they found themselves back in each other's arms, Hermione's hands resting lightly on his shoulders as his hands ran gently up and down her back.
"I'm sorry I ruined your birthday…" she said softly after a while. "I must look a fright right now…"
"Yeah, you do," joked Harry, "but I love you any way."
Hermione swatted playfully at him and then sighed dreamily as she settled back against him. "Seriously, now… I'm sorry I ruined your day…"
"You ruined nothing; today was perfect, just like you."
"Harry…"
"Let's not go out tonight," he said suddenly, "Let's stay here, just the two of us."
She blinked up at him, confused. "But… we can't, I have a present for you and, and-"
"The best present you could ever get me you already have; I'll just have to wait another four months for it."
And who could say no to that.
Three hours later (or maybe more)
"`Mione?"
"Hmm?"
"What was the present you were going to give me?"
"Holy crap!!! The surprise party at the Burrow! Ohhh, Ron is going to kill me!!!"
A/N: ***twiddles fingers*** I'm so sorry for the delay, but I have a good excuse, honest! They were really pushing us hard at school, and I really had no time to write… But, well, I finally got out, and I have three extremely long months of vacations to write and update, so hopefully that'll be enough? And, well, this chapter was to make up for the lack of fluff from last chapter, so I hope you like July. Read and Review, please? ***puppy-dog's eyes***
Rachel A. Prongs, ***sniggers*** I haven't had much experience with pregnant women myself, but I was with a cousin and my stepmother, and although my stepmother was perfectly normal, my cousin really was very sensitive… and, well, I did a lot of research-meaning I interviewed almost every mom I know, and, well, they had a LOT in common in sensibility department, so…
AlexaR, yeah, well, ***smiles*** I tried to emulate the situation as much as possible-I wouldn't know, since I'm a native Spanish speaker, and I'm not so lost as languages (I'm a modern languages major), but I thought that's what would happen to me if I were to go, say, to China. I'm glad you liked it!
Sarmi, well, Harry tells her everything, and he had better, otherwise I'm pretty sure Hermione would hex him a hundred times if she were to find out through, uh, 'other sources'.
RavenclawChrissie, ***smiles*** yeah, that's exactly what I wanted to portray in that chapter! His unconditional love for her. I'm glad you're enjoying this, and I'll try to update sooner, although I can't promise you anything because the next couple chapters are going to be hard…
Phoewolfnix, I love baby stories too!!! And thanks for reviewing!
Harryandhermionefan, I'm so sorry for updating so late… I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as you did the first!
Babyhalo19, ***blushes*** thanks for the compliments, I really appreciate them! I hope you like this chapter, I know I'm quite happy with how it turned out!
Pinay_pride08, mmm… I'm not telling you what they're having (boy/girl/twin) but I hope you'll keep reading to find out! Thanks for reviewing!
Violatedpenguin, thank you so much for your reviews!!! ***glomps you*** they mean so much to me!!! This chapter is dedicated to you, and I'm sorry it took me so long!
ItalianSoccerChick89, ***blushes*** thanks for the compliments… I've been studying Japanese for ***counts fingers*** three years, but I've still got a lot to go. I've studied English for ***counts even more*** nine years, and I also speak another four languages and am studying the seventh (german). ***grins sheepishly*** I guess I really picked my major well…
GerdieSI, ***waves finger disapprovingly*** you're reading fanfiction at work? Bad, bad person!!! ***grins*** nah, work is boring, read all you want!!! Thanks for reviewing, and I hope you like this!!!