A Long, Strange Trip

V.

She would wait until after the wedding to tell Ron.

This decision made Hermione feel more at ease as she walked home that afternoon, having left Ginny at the door to her apartment building. Despite all the unexpected events, and having spent over an hour in the bookstore, they'd managed to get to one boutique, at which Ginny had picked out a very becoming silk nightgown in a deep shade of blue with white lace trim, and a matching dressing robe.

Hermione was carrying a large shopping bag with reinforced handles. It was full of books on pregnancy, childbirth, and child rearing up to the first five years. She'd spent more than she planned, but the books would pay for themselves in the long run. It wasn't like they were an impulsive purchase. These books were absolutely necessary tools. She would start reading right away, and take thorough notes. There was no way she would be unprepared for this baby.

She was in relatively good spirits as she walked in the front door, but the sight before her nearly made her drop the heavy shopping bag on her foot.

It was Ron, and he was wearing an apron. He was standing at the kitchen stove.

Hermione cleared her throat. "What are you doing?"

"Hello!" Ron's face spread into a huge grin when he saw her. He rushed over and relieved her of the bag. "Here, I'll take this," he said. "You must have had quite a shopping trip."

Hermione watched, still dumbfounded and more than a little curious, as Ron put the bag down on the floor by the sofa. "Ron, what's going on?"

"Nothing," Ron chimed cheerfully, although Hermione could swear she detected a hint of anxiety in his voice. "Just thought I'd make dinner since you were out all day. It's nothing fancy, just pasta and salad. Now, come on, sit down, your feet must be aching."

"But it's only five o'clock. We don't usually eat until seven."

"Well, I was in the mood to eat now, so I popped down to the market and picked up a few things."

"All right, Ron, what happened? Did you break something?" Hermione asked, nonetheless allowing Ron to escort her to the sofa.

"Of course not. Can't I be nice to my wife once in awhile?" Ron kissed her forehead. "Now, do you want a drink? I mean - not a drink drink. Like water, or juice?" He chuckled.

"Seriously, what's wrong? Did you toss Crookshanks out the window again because he tried to use your autographed Chudley Cannons poster book as a scratching board?"

Ron ignored the comment, and instead went back into the kitchen, only to return with a tall glass of ice water. "Now you just sit here and I'll finish the dinner. It shouldn't be too long."

Hermione remained on the sofa, watching Ron bustle back and forth from the kitchen to the table, where he was placing silverware, napkins and plates. The wheels were turning in her head. He must have done something terrible. He wanted to get her good and softened up before he broke the news.

"By the way, I took a night job down at Gus's pub. Four nights a week, from five-thirty to eleven, starting the day after tomorrow," Ron said from the kitchen. "Turns out Gus's assistant barkeep ran off and eloped, so he's shorthanded on the evening shift."

"You took a second job, what for?"

"Oh, I figure it can't hurt to have some more money put away. Besides, I like hanging out there after Quidditch anyway, so I might as well get paid for it." Ron emerged from the kitchen carrying a bowl of steaming pasta.

"Well, I suppose so..." Hermione took a sip of water.

"Besides, you won't be working much soon, so I..." he caught himself, and muttered a curse word under his breath.

"What do you mean, I won't be working much soon? Oh my goodness, I've been sacked!" Hermione felt the color drain from her face and she had to set down the glass. "I know I was a bit behind on that report, but I didn't think..."

"Hermione, you haven't..."

Hermione jumped to her feet, her heart racing madly. "What are we going to do? We'll never have enough money! I shouldn't have bought all those books!"

"Hermione, relax!" Ron's face took on a panicked expression.

"How can I relax? Oh, this is just awful!" Hermione began to pace, wringing her hands.

"You're not sacked, okay?" Ron crossed the room and took hold of her arms to stop her from moving. "That's not what I meant."

"Yes, you did. Don't try to take it back now, Ron."

"But I can take it back, because you're not sacked! Really, I swear on the Cannons!" Ron glanced up at the poster.

"You're sure? Really?"

"Of course I'm sure."

"Then what did you mean before?"

Ron swallowed. He helped Hermione back onto the sofa, and he sat next to her, wringing his hands. "Look, I - I didn't mean to find out. I wanted to wait for you to tell me yourself, but well, as usual I made a mess of it."

"Find out about what?"

"The baby, Hermione. I know about the baby."

"But how did you find out?"

"I was in the bathroom, I saw the - the white plastic stick. The muggle pregnancy test."

"Oh, Ron...really, I was going to tell you - I should have told you as soon as I found out. Actually, I found out at breakfast this morning. No, not really, I mean, it was just Luna and her rambling but well, hold on, she was right wasn't she? She did figure out I was pregnant before I even..."

She never got to finish the sentence, because Ron interrupted her by framing her face in his hands and giving her a long, deep kiss on the mouth.

***

Dear Cho,

It was very nice to see you and Damien on the road today. You are both looking well. I'd like to invite both of you to tea with Harry, Phoebe and I the day after tomorrow. I think it's about time we got to know each other better. I would also like to run a particularly interesting idea past you, if you don't mind. If you do decide to come please ask Damien to bring his Quidditch supplies. There's no need to owl your reply, I'll see you tomorrow at the wedding and we can talk more. I sincerely hope you both can come.

Regards,

Luna Lovegood Potter

"What's that you're reading?" Draco asked, as he slipped up behind his wife. But before he could see what it was, Cho had quickly folded it and inserted it in the pocket of her dressing gown.

"Draco, you startled me," she said, doing her best to hide her disappointment at the interruption. "You know I don't like that."

"I'm sorry." Draco bent to kiss the side of her bare neck. Cho closed her eyes, willing herself to endure it. "Now, shall we get on with our evening? I've got Damien all settled in for the night with the nanny. She's been told not to disturb us for any reason."

"Uh-huh," Cho murmured. But she was thinking about the letter she'd just read, and she couldn't help but feel a thrill of anticipation. She would finally get inside Harry and Luna's house, and get a glimpse of what their life was like. While she couldn't begin to guess what it was Luna wanted to talk about, or why she wanted her to bring Damien - well, obviously she thought he and Phoebe might play together. The odds of that happening peacefully were a million to one, but frankly at that moment she didn't much care. The trick was of course to keep it from Draco, who would undoubtedly launch into one of his infamous tirades if she even mentioned the idea. To him, Harry Potter was the plague. But she'd do it. Over the years she'd developed quite a gift for evading her husband's questions. She'd do whatever she had to, there was no way she was turning down this invitation.

"I can't wait," she said aloud. Draco, clearly thinking she was referring to their romantic evening, let out a deep chuckle of pleasure before he turned her to face him.

"Neither can I," he said, and kissed her deeply before leading her to their bed.

***

Even though it was well after ten o'clock and she had planned to get to bed early, Ginny couldn't bring herself to do it. Every time she made a move toward the bed, she caught a glimpse of her wedding dress hanging on the back of the closet door and she just had to get up and touch it one more time, to make sure it was really there.

"Mrs. Ginevra Molly Weasley Longbottom. That sounds just about perfect, doesn't it?" Ginny beamed at her tabby cat, now curled up on the foot of the bed and watching her with a distinct lack of interest.

What an exciting day it had turned out to be. She was an Aunt! Well, of course she was already Aunt Ginny to Amanda and Samantha, and also Daniel and Jacqueline, Bill and Fleur's children. But this was Hermione, her best friend in the world.

She was so caught up in her own thoughts that she almost missed the sound of a knock at her front door. Fastening the sash of her robe, she hurried out to the living room in her slippers.

"Neville, what on earth are you doing here at this hour?" she exclaimed, upon seeing her rather exhausted fiance at the door. "Did something happen, are you hurt?"

Neville shook his head. "No, nothing like that. I just need to ask you something. Can I come in for a minute?"

"Sure, yes, absolutely." Ginny stood aside and let him pass, her brow furrowed with worry. "Do you want some tea, or hot cocoa or something?"

To her astonishment, Neville responded by getting down on one knee in front of her. He took her left hand in both of his. While gently fingering the engagement ring on her finger, he looked into her eyes.

"Neville, what's gotten into you? Are you sick?" Ginny was growing more alarmed.

"No. I just have to make sure about something." Neville cleared his throat. "You really are going to marry me tomorrow, right?"

"What a question to ask, the night before our wedding! Are you drunk, did Ron take you to the pubs? Oh, I swear I'll have his head on a plate if he did!"

"I'm not drunk."

"Then what are you doing on your knees asking me if I'm really going to marry you? Neville, stand up. You're worrying me."

Neville got to his feet, but did not release her hand. "Just say yes or no, Ginny. Please."

"Yes, of course I am going to marry you. What's gotten into you?"

The first hint of a smile crossed Neville's face. "I guess I just can't believe my luck, that's all," he said. "Of all the blokes out there, you really chose me."

"It has nothing to do with luck, Neville Longbottom. I chose you because you're the most decent, honest, wonderful man alive and I would be crazy not to marry you." Ginny curled her slender arms around Neville's neck and gave him a kiss. "I love you, you idiot."