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“Harry!” Hermione said in surprise, her hand over her heart. “You startled me.”
“Sorry,” he said sheepishly.
In retrospect, perhaps waiting in the darkened kitchen hadn’t been the best idea. The afternoon sun had disappeared on him since he’d arrived home, dim enough now that a light was warranted.
“I thought you were having dinner at the castle,” Hermione said as Harry rose, helping her out of her robe. “Ron just owled that he was working late if we’d known-“
“That’s alright,” Harry assured her, “I was hoping to talk to you actually.”
Hermione gave him a curious smile.
“Wine?” he offered, turning away to build his nerve.
“Sure,” Hermione said with a hint of suspicion. “Shall we take it in the garden? I could use the fresh air.”
They settled into two of the chairs which had been rather neglected since the term had started and under those little blue balls of light Hermione was now an expert at, their back garden was rather romantic.
“You look beautiful,” Harry told her on impulse.
Hermione gave him a suspicious look and a rather bashful, “Thank you? What’s gotten into you?”
“Ron stopped by, Friday,” Harry went on, avoiding her question.
“He said,” Hermione replied, allowing him to redirect the conversation. “Told me that Teddy was quite the charmer, changed his hair and everything.”
Harry chuckled, having forgotten entirely the appearance of his godson. “Yes, I think Ron’s going to clench favorite uncle this year.”
“I think he’s going to sweep the board,” giggled Hermione. “Favorite brother, favorite son-“
“Favorite husband?” Harry teased.
Hermione’s eyes crinkled with mirth. “I don’t know, he’s got some pretty stiff competition.”
It was Harry’s turn to give a bashful smile and Hermione reached over, tangling their fingertips together as she took a sip of wine.
“Did he tell you about what we talked about after?” Harry went on boldly. “About wanting kids?”
Hermione’s smile fell a little and she took her time lowering her glass. “Yes, that did come up.”
Harry stared at her imploringly. An old Auror habit of wanting to know what was on her heart before he revealed anything that might influence her.
“I thought we were all on the same page.” She spoke quickly, a worried expression on her face. “About starting to try.”
“You’re ready.”
“Yes,” Hermione looked pleased. “I think I am. I feel accomplished. I’ve been able to continue my education and publish a book and now people with lycanthropy aren’t stigmatized and houseelfs have safe working conditions. I feel comfortable in my job and comfortable in our marriage. I’m ready to take a step back from all that, have a family, ‘have it all’ as the muggles are always so fond of saying.”
A proud feeling swelled in Harry’s chest and he squeezed her hand to show his emotion. But then Hermione’s smile faltered a little.
“But Ron said you weren’t as sure.”
And the proud feeling was replaced with a wave of guilt. It was only upon reflection that Harry had been able to hear what his partners had been saying. The conversations he’d been apart of and ignoring the parts inconvenient to his current pattern of thinking.
“It just took me a bit off guard,” Harry explained.
“You brought up kids first,” Hermione reminded him gently, and unconsciously Harry’s eyes slid to the side of the house.
The spot they had all stood that snowy Christmas eve was hidden by the place they now called home but Harry could remember it fondly.
“I wanted the life they wanted for me,” Harry explained. “To live in a quiet town, in a house full of love.”
“Oh Harry,” Hermione murmured. At last, his eyes shifted back to her and found them shining with tears.
“And I’ve gotten that, with you and Ron here. These past few years have been so happy.”
“They have,” Hermione agreed happily. She set down her glass and used her now freed hand to clear her cheeks. “Happier than I ever thought years could be.”
“And I guess I thought that when it came time for us to have kids I would just know,” Harry told her, feeling a little helpless. “Like you and Ron seem to.”
“The timing feels good,” Hermione corrected. “After the World Cup, Ron will have a quiet few months and there’s nothing on my desk too pressing.” She trailed off, searching his face. “But Harry, you know we’d never make this decision without you fully and completely on board.”
“I know,” he assured her. “I know.”
“We can keep talking about it Harry,” she told him. “I haven’t stopped taking the potion and I’m not trying to walk up all those stairs at the World Cup with our child threatening to burst from me. We have as much time as we’d like.”
And there came the thought that had been floating in the back of his mind.
“Hermione?” she looked over at him. “I want Ron’s to be first.”
“Harry I don’t think that’s something-“
“Yes, but I do,” he insisted. “I want it to be Ron’s. I want to be the father of his kids and if we only ever have one then I want it to be his.”
Hermione looked overcome their hands separated as she wiped the tears from under her eyes.
“I don’t know that I’ll ever truly feel ready,” he told her, “But your and Ron’s child. God Hermione, think of it. A baby with red hair or brown, his eyes or yours. Freckles, your nose.”
“So long as the baby has his teeth,” Hermione told him, “Mine were God awful, remember?”
Harry grinned, his heart suddenly beating very fast.
“That’s the feeling,” Hermione told him softly, pressing her hand to his chest. “This right here. The excitement.” She dropped her voice. “The terror.”
Harry put his hands over hers, gripping it. “It’s not just me then.”
Hermione shook her head, smiling. “Of course I’m terrified of all the ways I’m going to ruin a child. But I know it’ll have you and Ron and it makes me a little less afraid.”
“Funny, that’s what Ron and I keep saying about you.” Harry teased.
They sat there, smiling at one another, hand over hand over heart in the last rays of the afternoon sun. A feeling of contentment washed over Harry and he gazed out at the garden, picturing the same scene years into the future, watching their children run around all dirty from their explorations and adventures, a cottage bursting with laughter and love. As he sat there, imagining the days yet to come, there came a pop of apparition and Ron appeared on the other side of the gate, loosening his tie and raising his hand in greeting. Completing the perfect picture in his mind.
He smiled, walking over and perching himself on the arm of Hermione’s chair. “I would have come home quicker if I’d known you’d be home.”
“We’re going to have kids,” Harry told him, feeling there was no time to waste in sharing the happy news. Ron’s eyes widened, looking at Hermione in surprise who merely nodded, words unnecessary. “Expand our family.”
“Yeah,” Ron nodded, as if it was obvious but even so his hand tightened affectionally. “Of course.”
“He’s ready,” Hermione provided, wiping the ghost of a tear from her cheeks. “We’re ready.”
“Ah,” Ron understood at once, eyes twinkling. “I see.”
Harry took the hand of Hermione’s he still grasped and kissed her palm.
“We’re going to be parents,” Hermione whispered happily.
“Yeah,” Harry echoed, unable to resist the thrilled smile. “We are.”