Burning Down the House

Ron straightened his shoulders and grasped Hermione's hand.

'We're having a baby.'

Charlie stared in slack-jawed amazement for a moment before he began to laugh hysterically. 'Oh, stop it, Ron, you're killing me!' he choked between whoops of laughter.

'No, really. We're having a baby!' Ron protested.

Bill cuffed Charlie on the back of the head. 'I think they're serious, you git. Shut up,' he hissed. 'You are serious, aren't you?' he said to Ron, in a louder voice.

Ron gave up and nudged Hermione. '-You- tell them,' he sighed.

'Oh, honestly,' she huffed. 'I'm pregnant. Due on February seventeenth. Any other questions?'

'No,' stated Harry emphatically. 'Anything else falls into the "too much information" category.' He shuddered dramatically.

'Oh, Hermione.' Jane rushed into the kitchen, followed by the rest of the family. She pulled Hermione into a tight embrace. 'I wish your father was here for this,' she said shakily into Hermione's hair.

'So do I, Mum.'

******

After lunch, Victoire ran headlong down the back garden, and into Ron's knees. He swung the little girl into his arms, and blew a loud raspberry on her stomach, before she could protest. Ron slung the girl on his back, and she rested her chin on his shoulder. 'Hi, Uncle Ron,' she sang.

'Hiya, Vic. Where's Teddy?'

'He's got James,' she sighed. Victoire wasn't very thrilled with James. He took Teddy's attention away from her.

At that moment, Teddy appeared, chasing a rapidly crawling James. James came to an abrupt halt next to Harry, and wrapped his chubby hands around his father's leg, and used it to leverage himself into a wobbly standing position.

Satisfied James wouldn't be crawling about the garden unsupervised, Teddy looked up at Victoire. He held up the football he'd brought from home enticingly to Victoire. 'Want to go kick the ball around, Vic? It's World Cup standard,' he said proudly. The ball had been a birthday gift from Richard.

Victoire's eyes narrowed suspiciously. She gave James the kind of scathing look Fleur reserved for things like pond scum and Dark wizards. 'Will he be there?' she asked, pointing an accusatory finger at James.

Harry tugged one of Victoire's sunrise-hued plaits. They were coming undone. 'I've got him. You and Teddy go on and play.'

Victoire pushed several strands of hair away from her face, leaving a dirty smudge on her cheek. 'Oh, all right,' she conceded with the air of a duchess and slid off Ron's back, grabbing the ball from Teddy's hands before taking off at a run for the paddock.

'Hey, Teddy?' Harry laid a hand on the boy's shoulder. Teddy looked up at him. 'You don't have to follow James around all day, you know.'

'Yeah, I know.' Teddy shrugged. 'I don't mind.' He trotted off after Victoire, his hair changing to match his Manchester United shirt.

Harry watched Teddy join Victoire. 'I didn't get to say it earlier, but congratulations, mate.'

'Thanks.' Ron beamed.

All of a sudden, James' grip slipped, and Harry let out a startled yelp. James sat down on his padded bottom, surprised, and burst into noisy wails. Several hairs lay bunched in his palm. Harry leaned down, and brushed off James' hand. 'Could you try not to use Daddy's leg as a support when you stand up while Daddy's wearing shorts?' Harry rubbed the reddened patch of skin on the back of his leg. He sat in the grass next to James, who crawled into his lap and snuffled into Harry's t-shirt. 'It's okay, James,' Harry murmured to his son, lightly rubbing his back. He looked up at Ron, who was trying not to laugh. 'I can't wait until your kid does something like that to you.'

Ron folded himself into the grass next to Harry and James, watching while Harry rocked James a few times. James blinked sleepily a few times, blindly pushed his thumb into his mouth and fell asleep, draped over his father's chest. Harry leaned back against the trunk of the apple tree. 'Can I ask you something?' Ron asked quietly, not wanting to wake up James.

'Sure.' Harry sounded surprised. They hadn't bothered with permission to ask each other questions in over ten years.

Ron pulled his knees into his chest. 'When do you stop feeling so scared?' he asked in a whisper.

Harry looked down at James. He slowly stroked James' disordered hair. 'You don't,' he confessed. 'Ask any of them,' he said, pointing at the clump of men near the back door. 'They'll tell you.'

'You're joking!'

'I wish I was.' James moved restlessly, and Harry began to rock him a little, humming softly. He continued when James settled back into the utter laxness of deep sleep. 'It was just me and Gin for so long. And sure, I worried about her. I still do, even though she's a fully trained witch, but you know what I mean.' Harry glanced at Ron who nodded in understanding. There were a million things that could happen to them that had nothing to do with magic. One of them could get hit by a bus or a taxi in Muggle London trying to cross the street.

'It wasn't real for a while,' Harry said. 'I knew Ginny was pregnant, but she didn't really look different, and it wasn't until she started getting this curve that it hit me there was actually a baby in there.' Harry leaned down and gently kissed James' sleep-flushed cheek. 'That's when I got really scared.' He grinned self-consciously. 'The day we brought him home, I was even more scared than any of the times I faced Riddle.'

'Blimey,' Ron breathed.

'I spent the whole first night getting up and going into his room. Just to check that he was still breathing.'

'I'll bet that just made Ginny thrilled beyond belief with you.'

'She was doing it, too.' Harry gazed at his son. 'They're so defenseless,' he said helplessly. 'The real challenge is going to be trying to figure out how to let him grow up without running behind him with a butterfly net,' he chuckled softly.

A thought occurred to Ron as he watched Teddy and Victoire run through the paddock. 'Do you feel the same way about Teddy?'

Harry hesitated. He shifted James a bit. 'It's hard to explain,' he told Ron apologetically.

'Try me.'

Harry leaned his head against the tree trunk, and watched the clouds drift across the sky. 'I love him like he's my own son. The way your parents feel about me. Teddy was real from the beginning with me. I didn't get to worry about him in the abstract for several months like I did with James.'

Ron shrugged. 'Makes sense.'

Harry closed his eyes. 'What really scares me is the day he's going to ask about Remus and Tonks. And the day he gets angry at them for dying. Especially his mother.' Ron's eyebrows rose at the flash of guilt in Harry's eyes. He didn't press the issue.

******

Ron woke up and winced at the light streaming through the bedroom window. He shut his eyes and patted the bed next to him, growing alarmed when he realized Hermione wasn't there. A clatter from the kitchen made him moan softly. He sat up and his head spun dangerously. Ron fell back into his pillow, and pulled the quilt over his face.

He had been ambushed, in spite of his protests that he had heard all of it before. Arthur had insisted on his initiation into the "Dad" club, saying it was tradition. Ron had to admit it was a lot different now that he was the one facing fatherhood.

Ron held his head in his hands and tried to sit up again. 'Ohhhhhhhh,' he moaned pitifully. He didn't drink very often, and the few shots he had drunk were making their presence known.

'Morning.' Hermione walked into the bedroom, levitating a tray laden with tea, toast, and a small vial.

'Mione, I swear, I only had three or four,' Ron whimpered.

She snickered and set the tray on the bed. 'I know. Katie, Bronwyn, and I charmed the glasses to change the whisky to tea after four shots anyway.' She chuckled as she cracked the wax seal around the mouth of the vial with a thumbnail. 'You lot aren't very subtle about your boys' club initiation, you know.' She handed the vial to Ron. 'Here, drink this. You have to be at work in an hour.'

'Thanks.' Ron tiled the vial and drank the potion, making a face at the taste. It reminded him of Seamus' dirty socks in the dormitory. 'Ugh. Why do they all have to taste like manky laundry?'

Hermione handed him a piece of toast and a cup of tea. 'You feel better, though, don't you?'

Ron gingerly stretched, and sighed in relief when his head didn't feel like it was going to fall off. 'Yeah.' He took a sip of his tea. 'Mione?'

'Yes?'

'Are you scared?'

'Absolutely terrified.'

'Really?' Ron's mood brightened considerably.

'I start thinking...' Hermione settled against Ron with her own cup of tea. 'What if they're as thick as Crabbe or Goyle?'

'With your brains?' he scoffed.

'It could happen,' she insisted.

'It funny, though,' Ron mused, nibbling the toast in his other hand. 'I thought you'd be afraid by the idea of them being like Fred and George.'

'Huh. I didn't even think about that. But you know, all that things they had in the shop our sixth year, that was pretty advanced. So they weren't stupid.'

'I was thinking more along the lines of the pranks.' Ron remembered what a stickler Hermione could be for the rules at school.

'Oh, that.' Hermione nibbled a thumbnail for a moment. 'That could be a problem,' she said primly. 'We'll just have to make sure he or she knows our expectations before they go to school.'

Ron looked at her sideways. 'He's only going to be at school with seven other Weasleys.' Ron set his cup on the night table and held up both hands. 'Mum and Dad's expectations that he doesn't get detention at all versus seven cousins.' Ron pretended to weigh them in his hands, the cousin side appearing heavier. 'That's a lot of peer pressure.' Ron glanced at the clock. 'Bloody hell! Is that the time?'

'Damn,' Hermione sighed, setting her cup down.

'Think I can skip the shower?' Ron asked desperately.

Hermione sniffed delicately in his direction. 'No,' she said emphatically. 'Not unless you want to drive business away. You smell like the floor at the Hog's Head.'

'I'll see you at dinner.' Ron quickly kissed Hermione, and ran to the bathroom to shower for work.

******

'Harry?' Hermione stood uncertainly in the open door of Harry's office. 'Are you busy?' He had a stack of purple file folders on his desk and was occupied in perusing the file open in front of them.

'Not especially.' Harry stretched and closed the file, placing it on top of the others, then swept the stack into his desk drawer. 'What's up?'

Hermione walked into the office and perched on a chair near Harry's desk. 'Your parents are dead,' she began.

Harry raised an eyebrow. 'This is news?'

'No - I - Uh...' Hermione grew increasing flustered. 'This is coming out wrong,' she mumbled.

'Hermione, breathe.' Harry came around the desk and sat next to her. He looked at her for a moment. 'Does this have to do with your father?' he guessed.

'Yes,' she replied in a small voice. 'How did you - Did you tell them? About James?'

Harry smiled fleetingly. 'Yeah. Right before I came out and told everyone else.'

'Did it feel weird?'

'No.' Harry nudged her. 'Hermione, we talk to ghosts. And portraits where the subject died hundreds of years ago. Telling my parents that they had a grandson was not any odder than any of those things.' He was quiet for a moment. 'I took James to their graves about a week after he was born. For formal introductions.'

'What was that like?'

'It was... Good. Kind of made the whole thing come full circle.' Harry shrugged, 'In a way, I owed it to them. Mum and Dad. They kept me alive, and having James sort of returned the favor. I know - it sounds like I've got a nice room in St. Mungo's waiting. It just sort of lets them keep living, even after I'm gone.'

'It doesn't sound as mad as you think it does.'

'Hermione, go talk to your dad. Whether it's at his grave, or anywhere where it seems your dad is there.'

'Thanks.' Hermione kissed Harry on the cheek. 'I love you, you prat. You're the best brother a girl could have.'

Harry held her for a moment. 'I love you, too, you smart-arse. I'm really happy for the two of you.' He grinned down at her. 'I can't wait for the fireworks.'

'What's the bet?'

'Who says there's a bet?' Harry asked, his face a study in innocence.

'This is the Weasley family. We had a pool going for when James was going to be born.'

'Who won?'

'Katie.'

'How much did she win?'

'About thirteen Galleons.'

Harry frowned, counting. 'That's everybody over the age of ten!'

'Like I said, this is the Weasley family.' Hermione nudged Harry in the ribs. 'Humor the pregnant lady. What's the bet?'

'Well... There's more than one...' Harry admitted reluctantly.

'Oh?' Hermione asked archly. 'Do tell,' she said settling back into the chair.

'Well, there's the one on whether or not Ron passes out during the labor and delivery.'

Hermione began to dig into a pocket of her trousers. 'I want in on that,' she said. 'How much?'

Harry Summoned a small notebook from his desk. 'Ten Sickles.'

Hermione handed him the coins. 'Here.' She tilted the notebook toward her. 'I say it's just after the baby's born.' Harry scribbled her name and the time under Charlie's. 'What else?'

'Boy or girl. Five Sickles.'

'Oooooh.' Hermione's eyes lit in anticipation. 'Girl!' she announced. 'And if that doesn't make Ron faint, nothing else will.'

'You can say that again,' Harry muttered, knowing the idea of having a daughter was almost more terrifying to Ron than spiders.

'Does this make me a bad mother?' Hermione wondered aloud.

'Nah. Just means you've really become a Weasley if you're placing bets on your own pregnancy.'

Hermione laughed, and stood up. 'I should get back to my office.' She stopped in the doorway, and turned around. 'Don't tell Ron. You know how tetchy he can get.'

'Oh, he already put his down for fainting about an hour after the baby's born. And put down for a boy.'

'Typical,' Hermione snorted.

******

Hermione stood in front of the small kissing gate at the entrance of the cemetery. She let her hand rest on the latch before she walked in through it. Hermione picked her way through the graves, trying not to walk on one directly - an old childhood fear of hers. She found Richard's grave, grass beginning to sprout tentatively over the still-raw earth. The marker had not been set yet.

Hermione slowly lowered herself to the ground. She opened her mouth several times, but nothing came out. 'You're not here, Dad,' she whispered. There was only one place he could be. She looked around the cemetery and Disapparated, reappearing in the back garden of her parents' house.

She walked around the garden, the bright sunshine making the heady scents of the roses stronger. She stopped every so often to cup a blossom, leaning down to inhale the scent. Hermione remembered the last time she saw Richard. He had been out here pruning the half-opened rosebuds. A week later, he was gone.

Of everything, this was what she associated the most with her father. Not chess, not the books they read together. It was the time they spent in the roses. She could hear his voice admonishing her three-year old self to watch out for the thorns, and in the same breath soothing her cries, offering to kiss her fingers and make them better after she had grasped the stem of a cut rose. Hermione could smell the scent of sweat mixed with dragon dung fertilizer. It reminded her of the week they came back from Australia, and she and Richard spent hours out here, caring for the neglected roses. She opened her eyes, and could see Richard taking Ron around the garden, teaching him the names of all the rose bushes. And Ron - Ron drinking in the attention like a parched flower. The two of them played chess in the garden when the weather was warm. The first time Ron had brought over his wizarding chess set, Richard spent ten minutes insisting to a knight that he move here, please, while the chess piece grumbled in Gaelic. It took three games for the pieces to stop mumbling under their breath in Gaelic and English. It took another four games for them to move to their new space without dragging their feet. But Richard loved it.

She came to the bench under the trellis. Hermione sat on the bench, and pulled her feet onto the seat, resting her head on her knees. 'Dad?' she whispered. 'Dad, I'm pregnant,' she continued, hating the warble that had snuck into her voice. 'It happened the night after your funeral. At least I think that's when it happened,' she said wryly. 'It makes a good story, at any rate.' She straightened up and traced the petals of a rose over her head. 'Ron cried when I told him. And you'll never guess how we told everybody else.' She chortled. 'We were, ah, discussing how to tell the family. We got so loud, everybody heard the, um, debate. Doing it any other way just didn't suit us.'

Hermione sighed. 'All this time it took to get pregnant and you're not going to see any of it. You should be here for this, Dad. You should see your first grandchild, teach her to play footie.

'And as happy as I am about having a baby, Dad, I'm so angry at you for dying and missing it. Because you should be here.'

Hermione put her feet on the grass. 'I really miss you, Dad. I'll keep you posted.'

In a moment, she was gone.