Chapter 10 : Baby talk.
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One evening we were laid together in bed with our lamps on. I was reading a book intently, while Draco was happy to just watch me; his arm draped over my front. Every so often, he would trace his finger over the crease that appeared in my brow while concentrating. His touch made it vanish for a moment, only to appear once again moments later.
"Hermione?" he murmered, leaning over to kiss my collar bone. I had already sussed the mood he was in.
I closed my book and smiled. "Yes Draco?"
"I was wondering if we could talk about something?" he said. I was disappointed for a moment but then smiled and nodded.
"Of course," I said, placing my book on my bedside.
"Well," he began, sitting up and smiling nervously. "I was wondering if you wanted to talk about the possibility...you know, in the future...of us having children?"
I looked at him curiously. Indeed, it was a conversation we had never actually had but I wasn't expecting to have it tonight. "We can talk about it if you'd like," I said finally.
"You do want children don't you Hermione?" he asked, frowning in confusion.
"Of course I do," I said quickly. I wasn't lying; I really did want children someday. I just found the concept of planning to hold many suspicions and uncertainties.
Draco narrowed his eyes. "What's the matter?"
I sighed. "Nothing Draco," I whispered. "It's just, I don't think it does well to plan such an important thing so meticulously."
Draco grinned. "But you plan everything."
I pushed him slightly. "I know, but conceiving a child is very uncertain and can be a very frustrating time for a couple."
"What do you suggest?" he asked, curiously.
I shifted my weight and became more business like. "Well," I said. "What about if we stop...not trying?"
Draco raised an eyebrown suggestively. Since the first night we were together, even in our drunken state, we had cast the trustworthy contraception charm. It was my idea that if we stopped using that charm, then perhaps somehing would happen.
"Agreed," he replied. "So, how about we stop trying now?"
I grinned and kissed him passionately. "Absolutely."
Having Ron back upset the equalibrium that we had grown accustomed to over the two years he was absent. We each began routines with one another and it seemed to be Ron's sole wish to ruin them all.
One Sunday, Ginny had insisted that Draco and I come to dinner at The Burrow. She had been pestering us to come since Ron's return, but neither of us seemed able to be in the same room as him. However, Ginny seemed like she really needed us to be there; so we decided to go.
Mrs Weasley was over the moon that we had decided to join them for dinner and after her customary hugs, we were set to work. It felt like old times. I was laying the table while Ginny was chatting to me; it all seemed so natural. That was until Ron turned up, just before dinner was served, wearing an annoying Quiddich jumper and with a girl no one had met.
"Hey everybody," he greeted. "This is Angela."
The girl Angela was pretty enough and went red at her introduction. She greeted everyone plesantly and then took the spare seat that was indicated to her; apologising profusley as she went for not calling in advance. Angela was pretty, polite and pleasant to be around. Why she was here with Ron was beyond me.
"So Hermione," said Ron, once we were all sat together round the table. "How's married life treating you?"
The rest of the group looked nervously towards me to gauge my reaction. I just smiled brightly and took Draco's hand, which was resting on the table.
"Wonderful!" I gushed, uncharacteristically. "Thank you for asking."
Draco shifted next to me, fighting a smile.
"Anything new?" pressed Ron. "Any arguments, irritations...you know; the ones that make you want to leave?"
"Ronald!" hissed Mrs Weasley.
I smiled in thanks but shook my head. "It's okay Mrs Weasley." I then turned towards Ron and smiled all the more brightly. "Draco and I are more than perfect, in fact...we've decided that we want to have childen in the near future."
Draco nearly choked on his chicken, Ginny clapped in glee and Ron stared at me, stony faced. All through this, the poor girl Angela was listening to the exchange with red tinged cheeks. I bet she wished she hadn't agreed on coming.
Ginny cleared her throat. "Actually, Hermione had led on to a good subject."
"What's that dear?" asked Mr Weasley.
Harry smiled and took his wifes hand. "We have some news of our own."
"I'm pregnant," smiled Ginny.
The table erupted with cheers of joy and congratulations. Everyone moved from their seats to go and pat the couple on the back. I was so happy. My best friends were going to have a baby!
Ron didn't speak for a while. It wasn't until everyone was back in their seats and had resumed eating that he did. "So," he said angrily. "I go away for nearly two years to become a Quiddich legend and no one even cares. However, Ginny announces shes's pregnant and everyone's happy. How does that work?"
Mrs Weasley looked at her youngest son with anger and disappointment. "Ronald Weasley. You left your friends and familiy at an important milestone in all of their lives; you cannot be shocked that people are finding hard to accept you once more. Since you've returned, you have been nothing but rude, judgemental and egotistic. Of course, my son, I am proud of you; we all are! However, you need to realise that since you left to become a Quiddich legend everyone else grew up. This is the birth of your sisters baby we are talking about. You are going to be an uncle. How dare you sit there and be bitter that you don't have the attention."
Ron grunted and rose from his chair. "Fine, I'll just leave. Come on Angela." Ron made to leave the room and Angela looked shocked at the sound of her name. She to rose and nodded graciously in thanks for the meal.
I had a feeling we would not be seeing her again.
Draco and I returned home in good moods that evening. Our friends were having a baby and Ron had been driven out of The Burrow by his mother. My mood was dampened, however, by the owl that was perched on the windowsill. It was very small and very familiar.
"Pig," I growled in recognition, as I took the scroll from its leg. It did not fly away and I assumed it would not until it had a reply.
"Who's that from?" asked Draco, entering the room to make coffee.
"One guess." I replied, sitting down and opening it.
Dear Hermione, It read.
First of all, I want to apologise for my disgusting behaviour. It was unnecessary and undeserving. I would be grateful if you would be able to understand my upset and confusion.
To begin again, I would like to offer to take you to dinner tomorrow night. I was thinking about eight o'clcok at the Italain restaurant in Diagon Alley. I understand that I am hardly your favourite person, but I do love you Hermione and I do want to make things right.
Send your reply with Pig
All my love forever (I promise)
I groaned in frustration. "He doesn't know when to stop!" I complained. Draco had read the letter over my shoulder and was shaking his own head in annoyance.
"He has a nerve, pronouncing his love for my wife," he said, angrily. "However," he said.
My head snapped up in confusion. However? How unlike Draco to be objective.
"However," he continued. "Perhaps you should just go for dinner with him." I knew it pained him to suggest it.
"Why?" I asked.
"Because then you can set the record straight without any distractions or confusions. You don't even have to stay for the whole meal, you can just go and tell him how you feel and be done with it."
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" I wondered.
Draco laughed darkly and wrapped his arms around me. "Absolutely not, however if it makes him piss off; then I'd try anything."
Draco dropped a kiss on my forehead and then went back to making our coffee. Sighing and knowing I would regret it, I turned the piece of parchment over. With a quill I found on the counter I scribbled my answer and then reattatched it to Pig's leg. He flew away immediately.
I wasn't kind in my reply. But it would do, I decided.
Fine, I agree to go to dinner with you. Don't pick me up, I'll meet you there. And I swear to God, if you wear another one of those Quiddich jumpers I might murder you.
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