Flour Babies

A/N: As the title implies, this is truly a flufftastic chapter. (Thank you for whoever coined the word "flufftastic"--merkehator, possibly? Anyways.) Okay, so it's kind of angsty-flufftastic, but it's got some cotton-candy goodness. Yum!

Chapter Four: Kiss and Make Up

The baby was screaming. Hermione groaned and poked at Ron. "You get it this time, I had them last..."

She sat up. Since when did she sleep with Ron? Er... next to Ron? A flush crawled up her neck, and she scooted away from him as if he were a Hungarian Horntail. A baby was still crying. Thoroughly disoriented, Hermione's panicked, fatigued brain began whirling to remember when she and Ron had had a...

"Shut that up, will you?" grumbled Ron, rubbing his eyes. He swore, and jumped up.

"Ron!" Hermione's brain had finally caught up to reality, and she was now rocking the enchanted flour babies a little bit desperately.

Ron pointed at the weak sunrays pushing through the common room windows. "It's morning, Hermione!"

"I see that, Ron," Hermione snapped, "but if you don't come over here and help me, we are going to fail this class, so in light of the circumstances, I honestly could not care less what time it is."

"But--that means--that--that's--"

"You said it was better than hearing Harry snore all night, remember?"

Ron opened and closed his mouth speechlessly.

Footsteps sounded on the stair, and Harry appeared, rubbing his eyes.

"Wha--oh, you two. Thought I heard something," he muttered. "Will you shut those things up?"

A crimson-faced Hermione glared at Ron. "Well..."

"Coming, I'm coming," he grumbled, and stomped across the room to pick up Ron, Jr. The flour sack only screamed louder, and Ron almost dropped it while trying to plug his ears.

"Ron!" Hermione shrieked.

"Let me try," Harry said, yawning again as he took the flour baby from his friend. "See?"

Ron glared at Harry as Ron, Jr. stopped squalling and cooed. "Sure, bloody idiot, shut up for Uncle Harry, won't you, not for your own dad..."

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked, trying not to laugh.

"It's been a long night," Hermione said wearily, tucking her now-silent twin in its blanket. Harry snickered as her blush deepened.

"Oho--long night, was it?" he asked evilly.

"It wasn't like that, Harry--" mumbled Ron, looking to Hermione for support. "Right, Hermi--bloody hell."

Hermione was steadfastly avoiding his eyes, but now even the back of her neck was cherry-red.

"That wasn't a dream, was it?" Ron asked weakly.

"Not now, Ron," hissed Hermione as Harry burst into laughter. She rounded on him. "And you--well, you just--just--"

Holding his sides and exploding with giggles, Harry waved her away and turned back up the stairs. "I'll just--hee hee--leave you two--ha--to it, then--- hahaha..."

Both Ron and Hermione glared up after him.

"Prat," Hermione muttered.

"Right git he's being," Ron nodded in agreement.

More footsteps sounded on the stairs. "Ugh," Hermione stamped her foot. "Come on, Ron, I'll watch the babies while you get dressed." She shooed him upstairs irritably.

When Ron returned, Hermione retreated to her dormitory and donned her own robes. "Breakfast?" she asked. He nodded.

*

As far as Ron was concerned, the day started off fairly well. Neither of the twins cried even once between classes, and lunchtime was quieter than it had been in days. In fact, it was deceptively quiet until his free period that afternoon.

"Ron, Hermione said to tell you that she's gone to the library to study," Ginny said, catching him as he came in from a game of Fanged Frisbees by the lake. Hermione had offered to watch the twins if he wanted to join the game instigated by Dean Thomas, whose flour child, Flora, was safely in Padma's care for the afternoon.

"Where are you going?" asked Ron lazily, flopping down on the sofa beside the twins.

"Oh... out," Ginny said vaguely, looking toward the boys' dormitory stair as Harry came thumping down, laden with Calendula and her lightweight pram.

"Out, is it?" said Ron, smirking.

"Shut up."

"Oy, Harry," Ron greeted his friend.

"Hey," said Harry. "Ginny and I were just going out with this thing," he gestured to the flour baby in his arm. "So... see you."

"See you." Ron smirked to himself as Ginny, all business, snatched Calendula out of Harry's arms and hoisted the flour baby to her shoulder, leading the way out the portrait hole. Harry scrambled after her with the pram. Who would have thought: Harry and Ginny.

He chuckled to himself a little longer, then settled back on the sofa. It was nice and comfortable, and a quick nap couldn't hurt...

*

Two high-pitched screeches woke Ron, who promptly fell off the sofa in surprise. He pulled himself up to where Ron, Jr. and Mehitabel were going at it like a pair of banshees.

"Shut up shut up shut up," Ron muttered under his breath, quickly pulling out an extra nappy and fumbling to change Ron, Jr. He was not good at this. Hermione was the one who normally changed them. She knew what she was doing; Ron didn't have a clue. At first, he put it on upside-down, and by the time he finally got it straightened out, Mehitabel looked like a time bomb blinking ":01".

"Bloody hell," he whispered, grabbed Ron, Jr., and dove for cover.

It didn't help.

He ended up covered in flour anyways, and Mehitabel's caterwauling increased in volume and intensity. He deposited the whimpering Ron, Jr. on the sofa and plugged his ears as he approached the second twin.

"Calm down, Hitty!" he screamed at her. "I'm coming!"

First- and second-year students, holed up in their dormitories, came to the top of the stairs and stared with gaping mouths at what appeared to be Christmas come early. The entire common room was covered in fine flour, making the red carpet appear pink and giving the general appearance of a snow-covered landscape. Mount Sofa could be distinguished by the flour-dusted boy trying to wrestle with a screaming flour sack. Ron finally managed to dredge up a second nappy and wrestle it onto a kicking and screaming Mehitabel before the portrait hole opened.

A bushy-haired figure dropped her books and covered her ears. "Stop that racket--"

Then she looked. And looked. And, slowly, her face went livid.

"WHAT HAPPENED HERE?" exploded Hermione.

"Well, I didn't mean to, it just kind of... happened..." Mehitabel stopped screeching and gurgled happily.

"RON!"

"It's not my fault, Hermione, it was an accident--"

Hermione looked around at the flour-dusted common room. "I can't believe it--I leave you alone for fifteen minutes and you can't even--"

"Hermione, it's not my fault!"

"YES IT BLOODY WELL IS!"

"WHO'S ALWAYS TELLING ME NOT TO SWEAR, EH?" Both Ron, Jr. and Mehitabel voiced their protest at their parents' shouting.

Hermione glared pure venom. "I can bloody swear if I damn well want to, Ron Weasley," she hissed.

"So can I!"

Hermione, shaking with anger, turned her back on him and stalked toward the portrait hole. "I am going outside," she said over her shoulder. "You can clean this up."

He stood in the center of the common room, holding a once-again screaming Mehitabel and fuming as the Fat Lady swung shut behind Hermione. It was some time before it opened again, and Colin Creevey's voice broke his reverie.

"Will you shut those up--What happened here?!"

*

Ron and Hermione sat as far apart as possible during supper, and the tense atmosphere followed all of them back to the common room, where Ginny and Harry failed at making awkward conversation and ended up beginning a game of Exploding Snap.

"You could at least talk to us," Ginny grumbled. "Not like we did anything."

Nearly an hour of stony silence followed, during which Ron and Hermione glared daggers at each other and Harry tried to finish his game with Ginny. Ron's periodic snorts of anger kept distracting him, however, and after he had forgotten to take his turn for the third time in a row, Ginny stood up and snatched away the cards.

"Just kiss and make up already," said she irritably to her brother and Hermione. "Come on, Harry." She headed to the dormitory stairs in a huff; Harry followed, throwing Ron an apologetic look before heading up to his own bed.

Ron and Hermione sat side-by-side on the sofa, both of them pink-cheeked and avoiding the other's eyes after Ginny's chastisement.

"Look, Hermione--" Ron began to say as Hermione said "Ron..." They looked at each other.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," Ron finally said. "I didn't mean to let Hitty explode. It was just... well, with two of them..."

Hermione sighed. "I know. I shouldn't have yelled. I was just... a little frazzled."

They sat in silence for a while longer, each feeling a bit more relieved to be back on speaking terms.

"Well," Ron broke the silence. "That's settled. Um...They--Junior and Mehitabel seem pretty well settled."

Hermione made a sound in agreement.

"I mean--you can go to bed if you want," Ron offered. "I'll watch them."

Hermione shook her head and dared a glance at him. "Oh, no. It's much nicer down here."

"Nicer? Wha--"

"I mean, you should hear Parvati snore." She smiled at her feet.

"Aren't you cold, though--" Ron began, his voice betraying anxiety.

Hermione leaned against him carefully. "This is much better."

Two sets of cheeks turned a shade pinker.

"Erm--" Ron reached a stiff arm around her shoulder.

Suddenly, something furry brushed his foot. Startled, Hermione let out a gasp and reflexively swung her feet off the floor, ending up with her knees across Ron's lap and their bodies very close together.

"What was that?" she asked, her voice high-pitched.

"Er--Crookshanks, I think."

"Oh."

Neither moved.

"Hermione--"

She turned her head to look at him. His heart began to beat faster. They were very, very close together--their noses almost touched. He could hear her shallow breathing, syncopated against his own.

"Oh--" she said in a small voice.

Her lips were so close...

Hermione gasped as Ron closed the inches between them and pressed his lips lightly to her own.

"Hermione--" his voice was rough, worried.

She pulled herself away from him and left the sofa, seating herself on the floor next to the fireplace and wrapping her arms around herself.

"Hermione," Ron followed her, crouching beside the fire. "Hermione, I'm sorry--don't know what came over me," he continued gruffly. "I mean..."

Hermione didn't say anything.

Ron sighed. "Look, okay, fine, I'll stop bothering you. You just go to bed. It's my turn anyways--see, I'm not even trying to get out of that--"

"Shh, Ron. You'll wake the babies." His voice had risen steadily in volume as he spoke; now Hermione turned to face him. "I--I'm sorry, Ron. It's just... well." She reached over to kiss his cheek. "Not your fault," she said quietly as she rose to shuffle toward the girls' dormitory stair.

"Wait--" Ron grabbed her wrist, and hesitated as a jolt of electricity raced up his arm.

She turned toward him, her posture defeated. "What, Ron?"

"I--I mean--just--"

"Don't worry about it. I'm going to bed." To Ron's surprise, she didn't sound angry; just tired. She tugged to free her hand as she turned back toward the stair.

"Wait." He tightened his grip. "Look, I didn't mean--I mean--"

"Just say it, Ron."

He paused. "Say what?"

"Oh, I don't know. Whatever you're going to say."

"What do you think I'm going to say?"

Her eyes glistened with tears. "Oh, let's see--something along the lines of 'I'm really sorry, it won't happen again, I didn't mean to'--yeah?"

"Wha--" He couldn't figure out why she was crying. Suddenly, he was angry. Why did she always have to make everything so difficult? "Okay, fine. Don't listen to me. Just put words in my mouth and make yourself cry, see if I care--"

She glared at him and yanked at her hand. He refused to release it.

"I don't suppose you'd want to know what I was going to say," he said loftily. "I suppose someone as smart as Hermione Granger doesn't believe that she could be wrong about what somebody was going to say..."

Angry color flooded Hermione's cheeks, and she took a step closer to Ron. "You--you--" She suddenly deflated and turned away, shoulders shaking with suppressed sobs. He slowly released her wrist, and she covered her face with her hands. "You ruin... everything!" she sobbed.

Mehitabel chose that moment to begin squalling, and Ron, Jr. soon joined in the festivities. Torn for a moment between flight and homework, Hermione hesitated at the foot of the stair; she finally turned to scoop up Mehitabel and rocked the baby in her arms. Ron picked up Ron, Jr. When the enchanted sacks were finally quieted, Hermione and Ron eyed each other mistrustfully.

"No point going to bed 'till we're sure they're settled," Hermione said carefully, her eyes red and puffy. She moved away from him to perch on the sofa. He stayed near the babies until the silence grew unbearable. In some way he couldn't quite figure, he was to blame. With a sigh, he crossed the room to sit beside his partner.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," he said after another short silence, staring resolutely at his knees. He glanced at her face. "Come on, don't cry again. I... I hate it when I make you cry," he finished quickly.

She shook her head.

"Oh, come on, Hermione--I mean... well, I--I'm sorry. Really, really sorry. I know you're having a hard go at it, but I didn't mean for you to get all upset... oh, come on. Don't cry--" Tentatively, awkwardly, he put an arm around her shoulders. "It's all right."

Hermione suddenly burst into tears and buried her head in the front of his sweater, sobbing.

"It's n-not your f-fault... it's just these b-babies keep me up all night, and I haven't got time to s-study, and I'm so b-behind, and n-now you're--oh, Ron!" Her tears had given her hiccups, and Ron carefully patted her back as she alternated between gulping sobs and hiccupping spasms.

"There, there," he murmured vaguely. "You'll wake the children."