Okay, chapter 20. If this isn't a record, I don't know what it. Twenty chapters in twenty days. That's amazing to me. I never thought that I could write this much this fast. Keep voting in the name game. I can't wait to see what some of you think about what I should name everyone. It's going to be great! Okay, so the voting starts on Monday, so please remember to vote. I'd really like to do well, and I'm not going to vote for my own story. Something about that just doesn't seem right. So, I'm depending fully on all of you. Please don't let me down! And now, here we go! Wedding plans!
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Harry stared at Hermione. "You're pregnant?"
Hermione nodded. "I'm pregnant. As in, we're having a baby."
"Right. I got that. When?"
"I'm due in March." Hermione was blaming her emotions on the pregnancy, but the fact that Harry seemed to not be having any reaction to the news that they were having a baby was upsetting her. She was desperately afraid that he was angry with her.
Draco elbowed Harry none too subtly in the ribs. "Do something, Potter, before she dumps your ass." He hissed at Harry. Harry shook his head, clearing it. His face broke into a grin and he hugged Hermione tightly, swinging her around in a complete circle. He kissed her fully, making Hermione turn red as his mother and Draco were both watching. Harry let her go and narrowed his eyes at her.
"You shouldn't be painting. You're pregnant!"
"It's special paint. Non toxic to pregnant women and infants. Which is why Carys is in here. No smell or fumes."
"Are you sure?"
Draco snorted. "Do you really think I would let my daughter in here if there was something that could hurt her?"
Harry didn't, but he was still unconvinced. "You should let me finish this and go lie down. Take Carys with you. Just in case."
Hermione rolled her eyes and lifted Carys from her bassinet. "Fine. I'll go start dinner."
Draco saw the look in Harry's eyes and snatched Carys from Hermione just as Harry scooped her into his arms. "You shouldn't be up on your feet like that. You could get hurt. Are you tired? You should take a nap." He carried her into their room, slammed the door behind him. Harry could plainly be heard saying, "We need to set a few pregnancy rules…" Both adult inhabitants of the nursery burst into laughter.
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It was a disaster. A complete, utter and total disaster. Hermione felt like she could have happily ripped her hair out by its' roots without a second thought, or later regret. Nothing was going the way it was supposed to. Nothing!
Since she had accepted Harry's proposal, and announced her pregnancy six weeks earlier, everything had been a blur. She'd gone back to school, and had forty new first years looking at her like they expected her to know everything. She was constantly tempted to turn them into something particularly silent.
She'd decided to do a Wizard ceremony, with Muggle clothing. That meant the fancy, way too expensive white gown. The undoubtedly unflattering bridesmaids' dresses. The tuxedos for the groom and groomsmen. It was terrible! She wasn't going to make it!
She had two months to get her wedding planned. Two months. Her stomach was growing, she was throwing up all day everyday, craving the grossest things that God had ever created, and was Harry doing anything at all to help? No! He spent all his time at practice. And what time he didn't spend at practice, he was decorating the nursery. As if they didn't still have six months to do that. They only had two months to get the wedding planned.
She'd assigned him one duty. One! And had he done that? He had not. She'd asked him to book them a hotel for their Honeymoon. They'd discussed it with Wood, and Harry's coach and McGonagall, and arranged for a ten day vacation right after the wedding, which was at the end of November.
She'd had to arrange for a magically expanding wedding dress. There was no way that one that would fit her at the moment, would for her in two months. By then she'd be five months pregnant, and as big as a whale. Unless she was like Alisa. The woman had only gained fifteen pounds. And that had just about been all baby. She hadn't had to work to lose anything.
Ginny, Alisa, Luna, Penelope and Charlie's wife Katherine as her bridesmaids. Ginny was the Maid of Honor. Harry had picked, not too surprisingly, Ron as his Best Man, Wood, Draco, Fred and George as his groomsmen. Hermione was pleased with the selections.
She was anal, and she knew she was anal. She wanted things exactly the way she wanted them. Nothing more, nothing less. Every detail had to be perfect, every instruction followed to the letter. She'd fired three hairdressers because they hadn't given her what she'd asked for. She was still seething about the one who had chopped off her hair, saying that it would flatter her more. Her hair was now swinging in layers just below her chin. She was furious.
Yet another hair dresser had decided she'd look better with highlights. She secretly liked the caramel and bronze streaks the woman had added, but would be damned if she'd tell anyone that. It looked especially nice when she blew it dry. But the hairdresser had had to go. No one cut or colored her hair without permission.
The third woman had refused to give her anything other than a beehive. And with the short hair, that didn't work. The stylist had claimed it was modern and chic, whereas Hermione thought it was old and cheap. A difference of opinion as large as that had ended the partnership very quickly.
So she had to come up with a menu, she was compiling the RSVP's she'd gotten, which were numerous, all the dresses were just in the planning stage, she had no hairdresser, no make up artist, no shoes, no planner, no flowers, and no Honeymoon. She was going to need years of therapy after she got done with her wedding.
But it would all be worth it. She loved Harry, no matter how mad she got at him, and no matter how frustrated she got because not everything went according to her lists, in the back of her head she knew that everything would work out in the end, and they would manage to have a beautiful wedding. If she lived to make it to the altar. At the moment, that was the question that needed answering.
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Harry got home at seven on a Tuesday night. He'd had a late practice, and was tired, sweaty, in desperate need of a shower, and hungry. He had to have the shower first, or Draco wouldn't let him in the same room as Carys. And since the room that they would be in was the kitchen, and the kitchen was where Harry would be getting his food, getting into the room was pretty damn important.
He trekked upstairs, muscles screaming from the practice. Wood and Alisa had had a fight about something or another, so Wood had been particularly hard on the team. He hoped desperately that they finished the fight and got on to the making up so Wood wouldn't try his hardest to kill the team again. He had high hopes for that.
Hermione was at her desk in their bedroom, hunched over her lists. He felt his face break into a smile. There was a stack of ungraded essays by her elbow, with a quill charmed to find every mistake working hurriedly, and she was writing down the names of possible florists, both Muggle and wizard.
Knowing better than to approach her when he smelled the way he did, Harry grabbed his clothes and headed to the bathroom. Hermione looked up. "Don't I get a kiss?" she asked, then saw him. "Never mind. Shower and the you can do the whole `honey, I'm home' thing you like so much."
"Five minutes. I promise." He closed the door behind him. "Hermione?"
"Hmm?"
"I don't suppose anyone covered my turn at cooking did they?"
"Ginny was in a mood for Chinese so we ordered out. It should be here in just a few minutes. I ordered you Sweet and Sour Chicken and egg rolls."
"Thanks." Harry grinned. That was his favorite. He imagined he could steal some of Hermione sea food lo mein too. It really was good. "How was school?"
"School. The normal menagerie of misbehaving fifth years and nervous first years. There was a huge brawl in my seventh year class though."
"Are you all right?"
"I just split them apart and sent them to Filch for detention. No big deal. It was over a girl. Apparently one is her boyfriend, and the other thinks he's her boyfriend because they slept together on Saturday."
"How do you find all this out?" Harry asked, amazed. He shouldn't have been surprised. Hermione made it her job to know everything about everyone. From gossip to the history of blast ended skrewts, if it was true, she'd know something about it.
"I listen. I told them both to forget the girl and move on with their lives. Did I mention that the two boys are brothers?"
Harry laughed. "No, you left that part out."
"Right. Well, they were brothers. Fraternal twins actually. How was practice?"
"Wood and Alisa had a fight so he was really rough on all of us."
"I know. Alisa called me during your last water break. She said it was all about the fact that he wants another baby and she doesn't right now."
"They're fighting over whether or not they're going to have another baby?"
"No, Alisa wants more kids. She just wants to play this season, and Wood won't let her play when she's pregnant. And I can't blame him there. She wants her career, and I can't blame her either. But Wood doesn't want Mikayla to be too much older than the rest of their kids. And she's nineteen months."
"That's still a baby. I can't believe he wants two so close together."
Hermione shuddered. "Neither can I. I want about three years to get used to the first one before I think about having another one. Then by the time number two comes along, the first will be heading off to Draco's nursery thing."
"Good plan." Harry came out, rubbing his hair dry. "Did you do something to your hair?"
"Today was interview hairdressers day. I asked them each to do one style on me to see what range they have. One decided she couldn't work with long hair and chopped it off before the word no could make it out of my mouth. Another decided that I just had to have highlights, so she did the streaks."
"It looks nice. I like it."
Hermione wasn't going to admit that she did too. "The third refused to do any style other than a beehive."
Harry tossed Hermione an envelope. "Here. Maybe this will help with your day. And your lists."
"What is it?"
"I booked our Honeymoon today. How does Mexico sound?"
Hermione squealed. "Oh, Harry! The ruins, the history, the ancient artifacts, the old wizarding schools that aren't open anymore. The Mexican Ministry. We have to visit. And all the Muggle culture. It's going to be so enlightening. We're going to learn so much."
Harry snatched back the envelope. "Okay, so we aren't going to Mexico." He laughed at her expression. "I don't want to spend our Honeymoon looking at old rocks and schools that went bankrupt. Or a Ministry that hasn't done anything useful in half a century."
Hermione decided a compromise was in order. "They have wonderful food, and swimming with dolphins. And the sunsets are supposed to be the most romantic in the world. And I'm sure the hotel is just so gorgeous that we'll have to spend the first couple days just in the room. I just don't think we'd get the same atmosphere anywhere else."
Harry handed her the envelope. "Okay then. Mexico it is. Keep looking, there's more in there."
Hermione rifled through it. "What's all this?"
"I hired a band. One of those Muggle ones you're so fond of. They're really quite good. I had them audition at lunch. And they're all well aware of us. Cousins are witches or something of the sort. Anyway, I hired them, and I got us a florist."
"Who?"
"Hagrid."
Hermione paled. She sat back down on the bed, hard. "Hagrid? Harry, we'll have flowers that bite and my bouquet is going to eat me alive."
"Nope. We came to an understanding that only non living flowers could be used. The kind that don't think for themselves or bite people. I think he was saying something about Calla Lilies for the centerpieces and orchids and roses for your bouquet. There was some mention of orange blossoms for the bridesmaids and dahlias for Ginny."
Hermione felt tears well up in her eyes. She looked at Harry. "Thank you so much. You have no idea how much this cuts down on what I have on my list."
Harry laughed, joined her on the bed. "And here I thought I was going to get one of those best fiancés in the world compliments. The `you're so romantic and so thoughtful' ones."
Hermione kissed him. "You are. You're the best fiancé ever. And you're romantic and thoughtful and sexy as hell." That last one surprised Harry. Their baby was doing unspeakably good things to her libido. "Even though you do leave your towels on the floor and never notice my hair until eighteen inches gets chopped off."
The last part shot him down. He shrugged sheepishly. "Sorry. What can I say? I'm a guy?"
"Most importantly, you're my guy." She stood, walked to the door and opened it. "Now come on downstairs. I smell Chinese food." She looked over her shoulder. "Oh, and Harry?"
"Hmm?"
"I love you."
Harry slid an arm around her shoulders. "I love you too."
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I can't believe I just wrote an entire chapter in an hour. Yay me. Anyway, next chapter is the bachelor and bachelorette parties. Expect a bit of a surprise. Nothing horrible. Not cheating, not strippers. I mean, come on, would they actually do that? Of course not. I'm not sure what I'm going to do yet exactly, but I'll figure it out by tomorrow when chapter 21 gets posted.
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