Moments of Love

Chapter 7: Elspeth or Thaddeus?

Hermione slipped into a comfortable nightgown and brushed her hair in front of the bathroom mirror. Her frizzes stuck up, down, left, and right, but she hardly noticed them. She examined her waist in the mirror and slid her hands on her belly to stroke her bump affectionately. It was quite visible now, and she couldn't bend as easily as before.

She blew the candle and closed the door behind her. Ron was already in bed, reading the latest issue of Quidditch Monthly.

'Did you know that the Cannons have managed to get Edward Foxton as their new beater?' he asked and flipped the magazine aside so that he could see Hermione. 'He's brill! I think the Cannons are on their way to winning the League Cup now.'

'I'm sure they are,' Hermione said absent-mindedly and dove into the warm bed. She pushed her head under Ron's arm and snuggled against his chest.

'Ron, I've been thinking...'

'We're not going to buy mini loudspeakers so that you can strap them on your belly and play that Mustard bloke to the baby all the time.'

'Mozart,' Hermione said with a snort. 'And no, that's not what I had in mind. Although, stimulating the baby while it's still in the womb has been proven highly beneficial, and mini loudspeakers aren't that expensive -'

'Hermione, no.'

'Oh, fine. But actually, I wanted to talk about baby names. Have you thought about them yet?'

Ron's eyes lit up, and he whisked the Quidditch magazine on the night table.

'Yes, and I have the best names! Listen to this: Christabelle if it's a girl and Thaddeus if it's a boy.'

'Um, right...' Hermione bit her lip.

'What, you laughing?'

'Not at all, but my son will not be called Thaddeus, and my daughter will most certainly not be Christabelle.'

'Why not? Christabelle is a pretty name for a girl, and just think about "Thaddeus Weasley". It even rhymes!'

'Christabelle sounds like a princess in a fairytale, and Thaddeus -' Hermione shuddered. 'It sounds like a creepy Victorian butler. I think the names should be short and sensible.'

Ron let out a disbelieving "pfth!", but Hermione pressed her finger on his lips.

'Listen, how about Sophia for a girl and Hugo for a boy?'

'Hugo? Do you want our kids to be bullied even before they go to Hogwarts?'

'No! That's the name of one of my favourite Muggle authors. Vi-, oh well, never mind.'

'What author? Hugo who?'

'Er, nobody, really.' Hermione winced and turned on her back. 'Ouch, this belly is starting to be a bit uncomfortable. Besides, Hugo is a sophisticated name, and it has a nice old English ring to it.'

Ron turned on his side with a thoughtful expression and caressed Hermione's belly. It sent shivers of pleasure through Hermione, and she hoped that Ron's meditative moment would be a long one. Ron shot her a suspicious look, and his lips curled into a naughty smile.

'Names first, Ron,' Hermione whispered and guided his hand away from where it had been creeping to.

'Fine, fine,' Ron said, still grinning rather wickedly. 'Sophia's not too bad, but I could swear there's a dreadful old bat in the family tree by the name of Sophia. I could never say that name without feeling that I'm raising a girl who's destined to become a dusty old maid.'

'Well, the baby is definitely not going to be Christabelle.'

Ron gazed out of the window, still stroking Hermione's bump.

'What about Clementine? Little Clementine Weasley. Think how adorable that would be.'

'It's a fruit!'

'Elspeth, then?'

'No, a grandma!'

'Prudence?'

'Oh, Ron!' Hermione groaned. 'Where did you get these names? They all sound like our grandparents' generation.'

'But if we named the tot Prudence, it might encourage her to keep away from the boys. Not that I'll let my daughter date before she's twenty-five or so, but it won't do any harm to hammer the point even before that.'

'Ron, do you realise what age we are?'

'Of course, but we're different. I'll be damned if hormonal boys get their filthy hands on little Prudence.'

'Ron, be serious. What about Naomi?'

'That sounds like women's body lotion. "Naomi will leave your skin silky with a faint aroma of peach..." Wilhelmina?'

'That's Elspeth's sister!'

'Okay, Theodora?'

'Their mother.' Hermione half-chuckled and half-grunted, and pulled herself higher on the pillow. Ron tucked it more firmly under her back, and they stared at the ceiling for a while in silence.

'Maybe we could set some general standards and try to find a name we both like that way,' Ron said finally. 'For example, it can't be too old-fashioned, and it can't be too long. But it also can't be too modern, and it must be sweet and girly.'

Hermione smiled and lifted her hand to graze Ron's bottom lip.

'You're still assuming it's a girl. It could be a boy, and all this could be useless. What requirements would we have for a boy's name?'

'Well, it must be enormously manly, of course, none of that fancy nancy stuff like "Byron". Something strong and clear.'

'And it should have a sophisticated ring to it,' Hermione said contemplatively. 'It must be fit for a professor.'

'Or a professional Quidditch player.'

'Or a genius pianist.'

'Or a skilful Auror.'

They looked at each other, lips trembling, and burst out laughing.

'Oh Ron,' Hermione giggled into his armpit. 'We're never going to find a name fit for all those!'

'Hey!' Ron wriggled. 'You're tickling me!'

Hermione's eyes flashed and she halted, looking up to Ron's face with a rather predatory smile.

'Oh, I did? Well, you deserve it after such names. Here's for Christabelle...'

Ron squealed as Hermione blew softly into his armpit and drew her finger teasingly along his side under his T-shirt.

'And here's for Clementine...'

'Stop it!'

'And for little Elspeth... '

'You're killing me!'

'...and for proper Prudence...'

Hermione was about to tickle Ron again when his hands seized her wrists and locked her softly against the mattress.

'I see you're quite good at this torture business,' he whispered, blue eyes twinkling. 'Too bad that what goes around, comes around...'

*

Much later, when they were snuggled up together and half asleep, Ron raised his head from Hermione's shoulder.

'Hermione, I've got it. Ronalda.'

'Ron, I love you, but no. Just no.'