Autumn is the Cruelest Season

The two dark-haired wizards--one bespectacled, one not--studied the small infant lying on the kitchen counter of Harry's flat. They glanced from the baby to the sink and back to the baby.

"Why don't we just shrink the sink?" Harry asked finally.

"I think that may just work, Potter," Blaise replied thoughtfully.

Grabbing his wand, Harry shrunk the kitchen sink until it was a suitable size to prop Anthony up in. Blaise carefully unwrapped the blanket from around his two-week-old son. Lifting Anthony up, he held him while Harry filled the sink with warm water. When the sink was full, Blaise set Anthony down. As soon as his bottom hit the water, a stream shot out from him, catching Blaise in the chest.

"Shite!" he yelped as urine continued to shoot out of his son. "Harry, help me."

Harry shook his head. "What do you want me to do?" he asked with a laugh.

Anthony stopped urinating and gazed up at his father. "Hold him, would you?" Blaise asked quietly.

Harry gingerly wrapped a hand around Anthony's waist, taking care not to be in the line of fire. Blaise disappeared into the bedroom and reappeared several seconds later in a clean shirt. He stopped for a moment to watch Harry cooing to Anthony. "Make you want one of your own, mate?"

Harry straightened so quickly that Blaise thought he would topple over. "N-No..."

"You're good with him," he said, chuckling. Turning serious, he added, "Haven't seen Katie around too much lately."

Harry shrugged. "We've both been busy."

"Bollocks, Harry. A girl like that won't wait around forever," he explained as he strode over and began washing Anthony.

"I just...don't...Hermione should be around," he said bluntly.

"Yes, she should," Blaise said quietly. "But you can't put your life on hold." He cleared his throat. "I think maybe Anthony and I should go home."

"What? Why?"

"Because we're in a holding pattern...all of us...we need to start to move on..."

"You don't think she's going to wake up!" Harry interrupted angrily.

"I know she is," the curly-haired wizard responded firmly. "But you need to live your life, Harry. Katie's the best thing that's happened to you since Millie. Don't let her get away."

Harry nodded and pushed his glasses up his nose. Blaise knew that was as close to an agreement as he'd get from him.

*****************************************

Blaise entered the sterile hospital room, clutching a bouquet of daisies. Removing the flowers he'd brought a few days ago and throwing them into the rubbish bin, he placed the fresh flowers in the vase.

"I saw them at the florist and thought of our wedding," he said with a smile. "They're not in season now, but I reckoned my best girl deserved them." He sat in the chair beside Hermione's bed. "There's...er...something I need to discuss with you," he said softly, taking Hermione's hand in his own. Smoothing her hair away from her forehead with the other, he said, "Anthony and I are going to go home...it's not that I don't think you're going to get better...because I do...it's just that Harry needs his flat back...and he needs to get on with his life...I daresay he's going to propose to Katie...Merlin knows it's about time..." He cleared his throat of the lump that developed when he realized that Harry had said almost the same words to him at Ron's stag night. "I'll still come to visit as often as I can...I almost forgot to tell you...Vector's come out of retirement to fill in for me...until you're better..."

Blaise couldn't take the silence anymore and laid his head on the bed and wept softly. "I need you, Hermione."

*****************************************

The day that Blaise and Anthony moved back to Hogsmeade was a whirlwind of activity. Ron, Harry, and Neville were in charge of transporting the baby's things back to the house while Susan, Katie, and Ginny apparated directly to the house formerly known as the Shrieking Shack to tidy up. Once everything was gone, Blaise took one last look around Harry's flat--which had been their home for the last three weeks--and, gathering his son in his arms, apparated to their home.

Ron and Ginny insisted on cooking dinner for everyone and it was half past nine by the time everyone finally left. Blaise had put Anthony down in his room after his feeding at eight and was left in the strange quiet of his home. Suddenly feeling exhausted, he trudged up the stairs to the bedroom. Quietly, he undressed and slipped under the covers. The bed felt uncomfortably big and he tossed and turned for a good twenty minutes before giving up and getting out of bed. Throwing on a pair of pajama bottoms and a t-shirt, he crept downstairs to his study.

He pulled the bottle of scotch from the liquor cabinet and poured himself a tumblerful. He selected an album from the collection he'd inherited from his father-in-law and put the record on the turntable. As the opening chords of Layla filled the room, Blaise settled on the couch, clutching his drink in his hand.

When the needle hissed and popped at the end of the record, he was still clutching the glass, having taken only a sip or two. He set down his glass and turned the record over. Glancing at the wedding portrait his mother had insisted on giving them, he sighed deeply, leaning his head against the back of the couch and closing his eyes.

The next thing he knew, someone was wailing somewhere. Blinking, he realized it was Anthony. The clock read 12:30 and Blaise knew the baby was hungry. He took a small sip from his glass and shuffled into the kitchen to fix a bottle.

*****************************************

"I saw the most darling centerpieces today," Jane said excitedly as they cleared the table.

"Mum, we've already chosen the centerpieces," Hermione answered patiently.

"I know but these were..."

Anthony tapped Blaise on the shoulder and motioned with his head. "Come on then," he said, heading to his study. Blaise followed and, as soon as they were both inside, Anthony shut the door. "Drink?" he asked, opening the liquor cabinet.

"I really don't drink," Blaise admitted sheepishly.

"But your family makes wine." The younger man shrugged. "Well, are you opposed to drinking?" When Blaise shook his head, Anthony chuckled and poured them both a glass of scotch. He handed one glass to Blaise and set his own down. "Ah, here it is," he said, pulling a record off of the shelves. "You know them?"

He held up the album and Blaise shook his head. The only muggle music he knew was what Hermione listened to...mostly morose young women strumming guitars or plunking on a piano. Anthony set the record on the turntable and carefully placed the needle on the record. A wailing electric guitar soon filled the study.

"Not too bad, eh?" Anthony asked, watching Blaise for a reaction.

"Not at all," Blaise replied, taking a sip of his scotch.

*****************************************

"Is this your little boy?" Rosmerta asked Blaise as the two Zabini men went for a stroll around Hogsmeade.

"This is Anthony," Blaise said proudly, crouching down to pull Anthony's hat up slightly to show his face.

Rosmerta got a glimpse of brown, curly hair. "He's got Hermione's hair, eh?" Blaise smiled wanly and nodded. "Any change?"

He shook his head. "It's only been a month."

"And how are you holding up?"

Blaise shrugged. "Anthony keeps me busy. The house keeps me busy."

"That's not what I meant, Zabini," Rosmerta said, hands on her hips.

Blaise ducked his head. "We're doing all right," he said with a nod. "We'd best be getting home." He tugged Anthony's hat back down and pushed the pram down the street toward their home.

Rosmerta watched them go until they turned the corner, shaking her head. She'd always liked Zabini, ever since he was a student, and felt quite badly for the entire family.

*******************************

When Blaise passed the Shrieking Shack while supervising the third years on a Hogsmeade weekend, he realized that it was perfect for him and Hermione...or that it would be once he fixed the place up. It had taken almost a month to untangle the web of ownership which surrounded the place. To Blaise's surprise, it turned out that Harry owned it courtesy of Sirius Black. Although Harry had offered to give it to Blaise and Hermione, the curly-haired wizard was too proud to take it and paid fair price for the land and the house.

Blaise spent every evening he could get away from Hogwarts working on the house: patching the gaping holes in the ceilings and walls, painting each room in the warm colors Hermione liked best (except for his study which was Slytherin green), installing a few muggle appliances (the telephone was especially difficult and required no fewer than six special permits from the Ministry), and replacing the ratty old furniture.

Every weekend that they could, their friends came to the house to help out. Susan and Ginny helped Blaise pick out the furniture, Ron and the twins rid more than one room of some unpleasant creatures, and Harry and Katie proved adept with the muggle appliances.

The weekend of the housewarming party, Blaise was as nervous as he'd ever been, unsure of whether Hermione would want to live in the "most haunted place in Britain." As soon as she apparated to Hogsmeade, he dragged her through the streets, impatiently sighing as she stopped to glance in a window or speak to someone.

He needn't have worried about Hermione's reaction. Once she took a good look around and been reassured that it was, indeed, their house, she flung herself into his arms, kissing him soundly on the mouth.

**********************************

"Hello, love," Blaise said entering Hermione's room. He'd made a stink when they wanted to move her to a shared room on the fourth floor and, after several floo calls to the Ministry, the hospital staff had acquiesced and allowed her to remain in her room.

He replaced the flowers he'd brought a few days ago with a fresh bouquet of lilies and used his wand to warm the basin of water Hermione's nurses had left. As he gently washed his wife's hair, he spoke to her in a quiet voice.

"Anthony's with your mother. He actually slept five hours straight last night. I awoke at three and almost bolted to his room to make sure he was all right. I've been reading to him everyday...usually The Velveteen Rabbit or Curious George. Usually puts him to sleep," he explained with a shrug as he worked the shampoo into her hair.

Rinsing her mane, he added, "But I know how important it is to read to him." This had been another one of her lectures that had been delivered on a weekly basis. She quoted several studies which proved that reading to babies increased their something or other. Blaise, loving how she looked when she was instructing him, merely nodded, thinking of other things she could be instructing him on. "And, after lunch, we get bundled up and stroll around Hogsmeade. Rosmerta says hello by the way. Says when you're well, she's got a pot of tea for you on the house."

He cast a drying charm on her heavy locks and carefully brushed them out. "And, yes, I'm eating. Ginny..." He rolled his eyes. "Ginny has arranged a schedule in which I am provided dinner five nights a week. Don't tell her I said this, but I much prefer the nights that Ron makes dinner than the nights that she does. Katie watches Anthony once a week while Harry and I go out with the boys. Your mum comes over for brunch on Sundays; it's nice to have someone to cook for. Molly and Arthur have their heads in the floo more than Mama does." Smoothing the hair away from her forehead, he bent and planted a kiss there. "I love you, Hermione."

*********************************

"Neville, I just want to check on him," Ginny said with some exasperation.

"He's fine."

"It's been a month and a half."

"And both he and Anthony look fine," Neville replied patiently. "They both look like they're sleeping and eating."

"What's the harm?"

"The harm is that he deserves some peace and quiet."

"Why? Has he said something to you?"

"No, he hasn't," he said, growing impatient with this conversation, "but Blaise is a private bloke. Leave him be."

"One little peek," she said finally, grabbing a handful of powder and sticking her head into the fire.

There, in the study, was Blaise stretched out on the sofa, Anthony sprawled out on his chest, both of them napping.

Neville's head popped into the fireplace next to Ginny's and he sighed. "Told you they were fine."

*******************************

"Happy Christmas!" Blaise said, opening the front door.

"Happy Christmas, dear," Molly Weasley replied, hugging him with one arm while the other wielded the wand which was levitating several large platters.

"Molly, I told you I had dinner under control," Blaise said, moving out of the way when she headed toward the kitchen.

"Can't have Christmas without a turkey," she called over her shoulder.

Blaise sighed, but knew better than to argue with her. Arthur entered the house and gave the younger wizard a small shrug. "Where's that boy of yours?" he asked.

"In the living room with his grandmothers," Blaise answered, following Molly into the kitchen.

"You can never have too much food," Molly said when she heard footsteps behind her.

He gave her a look, but merely said, "Thank you."

Unexpectedly, she pulled him into a warm hug. "How are you?"

Sinking into her embrace for a moment, he answered truthfully, "I miss her."

"I know," Molly replied, patting him on the back. Pulling away, she wiped at her eyes. "What can I do?"

"Everything's under control," he replied. "Go enjoy yourself."

Two hours later, everyone was crowded around Blaise and Hermione's dining room table which had been enlarged and now spilled into the living room. Blaise took his place at the head of the table and said, "I just want to thank all of you...for everything..." he said softly before picking up the carving fork and knife and slicing into the turkey.

Platters were levitated around the table quickly and soon everyone was digging in. Blaise found himself drawn into a conversation about the joke shop with Fred and Angelina. In the midst of dinner, Harry suddenly stood up. "Oi! Could I have everyone's attention?" he shouted. Once everyone was quiet, he smiled shyly. "Katie and I have some news." Before he could even get the word 'engaged' out of his mouth, both of them were surrounded by well-wishers.

"'Bout time, Potter," Blaise said, slapping Harry on the back.

"And you're sure it's all..."

"Hermione will be thrilled," he replied.

In the chaos, no one noticed the head in the fireplace until a voice shouted, "MR. ZABINI!"

"Yes?" Blaise said, turning to find Healer Smythwecke there.

"You need to come to St. Mungo's immediately," he said seriously. "It's your wife."