Things to Come

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It was a warm, early Saturday morning in September. Most of the wizardring population was still in bed, enjoying the relaxation of a late summer weekend, but not Hermione Potter. She was frantically trying to clean up the house, a task made difficult due to her expanded belly.

“Harry, come and help me straighten up,” Hermione called to her husband from the living room. “Ron’s going to be here in a minute.”

There was no answer.

“Harry?” she tried again, getting worried. “Are you all right?”

Hermione jumped as she suddenly felt a pair of lips touch her neck.

“Harry!” she gasped, whipping around to face her husband. “Don’t do that!”

He grinned. “Why not?”

“Because we don’t have time right now,” Hermione answered matter-of-factly. “Ron’s supposed to arrive soon to help us fix up the nursery.”

Harry looked disappointed. “Oh, right.”

“Are you going to help me clean up?” Hermione asked.

“Why do we have to? It’s <i>Ron</i>, dear. He’s seen the house in worse shape than this. We’re going to be making a mess in a bit, anyway. What’s the point of straightening up?”

Hermione opened her mouth in protest but she was interrupted by the sound of the doorbell in the foyer.

“I’ll get it.” Harry said, dropping a kiss on the crown of her head and leaving the room. Hermione, after tidying the pillows on the sofa, followed him.

“Harry, you better watch out” Hermione heard Ron saying. “Mum’s so excited about this baby that you’d think she was the one having it instead of Hermione. I believe she’s already got some names in mind.”

Ron turned to Hermione as she entered the room. “But we already know what this baby’s name is, don’t we?” He kissed her cheek and patted her belly. “Hi, love. How’s Algie doing?”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “His name is not Algie, Ron. How many times do I have to tell you? Anyway, this baby’s not a he at all, it’s a she.”

“We don’t know that for sure, Hermione,” Harry said in an appeasing tone.

“I know the mediwizards haven’t told us, but I’m sure it’s a girl. I can feel it.”

All three of them were silent as they let this comment sink in. After a moment, Ron said, clapping his hands together, “Well, let’s get to it. Where’s the paint?”

Hermione watched as Ron and Harry (who had both refused her help) spent the day turning an old spare bedroom in a baby’s paradise.

The boys worked diligently, using the materials Hermione and Harry had picked out with hours of careful consideration. Soon the nursery had soft blue walls, a crib, bassinette, changing table, and glider.

By late afternoon, the room was complete, and Ron decided to take his leave.

“No, I’ve got a date tonight with Lav,” he said, declining their dinner invitation. “Bye, you two.” And after a quick hug and a kiss he disappeared with a pop.

“I’m going to go wash up,” Harry said, heading for the bathroom.

Hermione decided to wait a bit before starting supper, and instead went into the new nursery. Sitting down in the glider, she looked around the room, her gaze finally coming to rest on the empty crib.

A cough broke her reverie. Harry was standing in the doorway, watching her. Hermione beckoned him with a wave her hand. He crossed the room and, after kissing her check, perched himself on the arm of the glider.

“Can you believe it?” she asked, her eyes a little misty. “In a few weeks, we are going to be parents.”

Parents. Harry looked at Hermione, trying to image her with a baby in her arms. Their baby.

“You’ll be a mother,” he said, meeting her eyes.

“And you’ll be a father.”

Him, a father? He was so scared. After all, he had never had a dad of his own. Well, at least that he could remember.

“You are going to be a wonderful one,” she said, reading his mind.

“Yeah,” he replied, grinning. “I can’t wait.”

“Neither can I.”

Harry lowered his head and covered his wife’s lips with his own.

“I love you, Hermione Potter.”

“I love you too.”

And they sat there for a long time, lost in the dreams of things to come.