A Long, Strange Trip

VI.

Two o'clock. Three o'clock. Every time Ginny opened her eyes, hoping she'd actually managed to fall asleep, she was met by the disappointing face of her alarm clock telling her that she still had hours to go before it would be time to get up. She'd set the alarm for eight, since the wedding was at noon and she figured she would need plenty of time to get ready and make everything just right. Clearly, though, she wasn't going to need the alarm. At this rate she'd be out of bed before the sun came up. Darn it, why didn't the time just move faster?

Mum would be coming over at eight, no doubt laden with homemade treats and all sorts of motherly advice. Thank goodness Hermione would be coming over as well, to provide additional support. Mum had been an absolute mess since Ginny had told her she was getting married. She'd been fussing over her only daughter like a mother hen. She burst into tears of joy at completely random moments and pronounced to anyone who was nearby, "My little Ginny's getting married!" No matter that Ginny was in her twenties, and very much on her own. To her mum, she would always be the baby, even when she had babies of her own.

The mere thought of having a baby gave Ginny a thrill of delight. She had no idea how many she wanted, or if she wanted boys or girls. Well, realistically, she wanted at least one girl. She also didn't know when she wanted to have them. One thing she did know for sure, there would definitely be babies in her future. Not to mention Neville would make an absolutely terrific father. Ginny had visions of blue-eyed, auburn-haired children with Neville's good nature and her determination. Or would the children have brown eyes, and dark hair?

Of course the way things had gone last night, their first baby could very well already have been conceived. Ginny smiled as she drew the covers closer to her chest and closed her eyes. Without even trying she could feel Neville's arms around her and inhale the scent of his skin, which was always a pleasant combination of soap, cologne, and grass. He just loved working in the garden. He was so gentle with her, he knew exactly where to put his hands and where she wanted to be kissed.

They hadn't meant to do it, of course. Once they were officially engaged, they had mutually decided to wait until their wedding night - after all, Ginny had made a solemn promise to her mum. But she hadn't counted on the look in Neville's eyes, or the soft smile on his lips when she'd assured him that they were indeed getting married. Neither of them had been able to resist. The moment was too perfect. In fact, it had been so perfect she'd wanted him to stay the whole night. But Neville insisted on doing the gentlemanly thing and went home, just after midnight. She giggled as she recalled him fumbling in the dark for his clothes. He'd nearly tripped over the cat on his way out, then muttered a nervous apology.

Oh it would be amazing. She couldn't wait. With that thought in mind, Ginny Weasley finally drifted off to sleep, at a few minutes before four o'clock.

**

Was that an alarm? Somewhere in the recesses of her mind, Hermione thought she heard a bell. Then the ringing stopped, and someone was gently shaking her. Her body felt like a rock, her limbs were molded to the mattress. She absolutely could not move, she was so exhausted.

"Hermione, hey - sorry, but it's seven o'clock. You're supposed to be at Ginny's in an hour," Ron said in her ear.

It must have been a different person who set that alarm the night before, because quite clearly it hadn't been Hermione Granger-Weasley. How on earth was she going to pry herself out of bed when all she wanted to do now was sleep? It was astonishing, really, and a little disconcerting, since she was usually the first one out of bed in the morning. She was normally the one giving Ron a gentle but firm shake to rouse him for work, not the other way around.

She'd been up late last night talking to her mother on the telephone, about the pregnancy. The news was too important to send an owl, and it had been comforting to hear her mother's voice. Although they communicated regularly by Owl Post, Hermione hadn't spoken to her parents on the phone in several weeks, mainly because she had been so busy with her new job. Hermione felt a twinge of guilt. Her parents never minded that she was so industrious, in fact they'd often boasted about her genius level intelligence and her fierce determination to succeed. But now it felt wrong to keep them shut out of her life, even if it wasn't intentional.

Ron leaned closer to her ear, his breath warm against her cheek. "Hermione, love, you have to get up. It's Ginny's wedding day, remember, and you're the matron-of-honor." Ron's voice sounded so soft and tender. He stroked her hair.

"But I can't Ron. I'm too tired." Hermione buried her face in the pillow.

"Well, all right. I guess I can let you sleep for a few more minutes. You can always Apparate."

"Oh, I love you, Ron Weasley. Wake me up at seven-thirty," Hermione mumbled gratefully, and she drifted back to sleep.

**

When Luna woke up that morning at a few minutes past seven, she noticed that Harry's side of the bed was empty, the covers thrown aside. There was barely a dent in his pillow. Rather than being alarmed, Luna put on her dressing gown and calmly combed her hair in front of the mirror. Then she looked in on Phoebe. The little girl was asleep, her limbs spread-eagle on the bed with one foot dangling over the side. But even from her position in the doorway several feet away, Luna could tell that Phoebe was slowly waking up; her eyelids were beginning to flutter.

Luna wandered into the front room where she found Harry fast asleep with his head on the dining table. His glasses were askew, and as usual his black hair was a tousled mess. Spread out around him were books: Techniques for Teaching Quidditch, Quidditch for Dummies, and A Child's Eye View of Quidditch. There were also drawings and diagrams outlining basic techniques. Luna peered over Harry's shoulder with interest and her eyes skimmed over the messy table.

He was like a schoolboy all over again about the prospect of teaching Quidditch. His excitement was palpable. Last night in a burst of enthusiasm he'd had every teaching book on Quidditch he could find sent by messenger from Literati Books, so he could get started on his plans. Even Luna felt quivers of anticipation as she read Harry's notes, written in his hurried handwriting. He would make an absolutely marvelous teacher, there was no doubt about that. Perhaps he truly had found his calling, in a way that he could still be a hero. Not a hero so much for the wizarding world, but for the vastly more important world of his daughter. As if Phoebe didn't already adore him.

Luna bent to kiss the top of Harry's head, and at the exact moment her lips touched him, Harry shifted, startled, and he just missed bumping Luna's chin. But she raised her head just in time.

"Oh! What time is it?" Harry muttered, only then noticing that his wife was standing just behind him. His lips spread into an easy smile. "Good morning."

"Good morning. Were you up all night?"

"Most of it, yeah. I had so many great ideas, I wanted to make sure I got them all down." Harry got to his feet and gave Luna a kiss on the cheek. "What time is it?"

"Oh, it's still early, there's plenty of time before we'll need to get ready. I was going to make some breakfast, Phoebe will be up soon."

But before Luna could move past him toward the kitchen, Harry's arms had slid easily around her willowy waist. "Thanks," he said quietly, leaning his forehead against hers and looking into her eyes.

"You're welcome. What would you like, toast?"

"No, not that."

"All right, how about eggs?"

"No, no, not breakfast.I mean, thanks for - for everything." Harry glanced at the table, covered with Quidditch plans, then he looked back at his wife. His heart soared, he thought it would burst right out of his chest. "You're amazing. How do you do it?"

"Magic," said Luna, and winked.

**

"GINNY!"

Ginny woke with a start, and sat up. For a moment she was disoriented, having been interrupted in the middle of the perfect dream about herself and Neville sailing in the Caribbean. She looked at the clock, and saw it was a few minutes before eight.

"Huh?"

Then the source of the disturbance breezed into the bedroom. Molly Weasley drew aside the curtains with a flick of her wand, and whisked the covers from Ginny's bed. "Come on, now, no time for dawdling. We've got to get you all ready. I've made some breakfast, it's on the table, and then you'll take a shower..."

"Mum, it's not even eight yet."

"What's the difference now, really? Five more minutes. Now come on, get yourself out of bed."

Ginny forced her weak, exhausted legs over the side of the bed and put her feet into her slippers. Despite the fact that she wasn't completely awake, Ginny smiled to herself. "Okay, okay, I'm coming. Where's Hermione, is she here yet?"

"No, no. I imagine she'll be along soon enough. Come on now, love, breakfast is getting cold."

Judging from Molly's businesslike demeanor, Ron and Hermione hadn't told her of her impending grandmother status. Most likely they'd wisely decided to wait until after the wedding was over, or mum would probably go into a state of shock. She'd been prattling on about when "those two" would have a baby, and how all of her other married offspring had already given her grandchildren.

Ginny giggled, and felt a rush of excitement so intense she almost couldn't stand it. She would be married in less than six hours to the most wonderful man in the world, and to think, she could be pregnant, too! She wondered how long she'd have to wait before one of those Muggle tests would work. Or maybe she could just ask Luna...

**

"RON!"

Ron had just emerged from the bath, and securely wrapped a towel around his wait. He nearly slipped on the damp floor at the sound of Hermione's voice, and grabbed onto the edge of the sink to keep himself from falling. "Bloody hell. What is it, Hermione?"

Hermione flung open the bathroom door. Her hair was dishevelled, the sash on her robe was tied on lopsided, and she had bags under her eyes. She was such a sight that Ron wanted to laugh, but knew better.

"What?" he repeated, still holding onto the sink. He bit his lower lip to stifle his laughter.

"What time is it?"

"I don't know, there's a clock right there..."

"That's not the point, Ron, I asked you to wake me up at seven-thirty! It's eight-fifteen!"

"Well, you looked so peaceful and I didn't want to disturb you. Both of you." He glanced at her abdomen, still flat beneath her robe, and imagined it round and swollen like a beach ball.

At this, Hermione's face softened, and she smiled. "Oh Ron, that's so sweet."

"Huh?" Ron raised his eyebrows.

Hermione gave him a kiss, and ruffled his damp hair. "Thank you. Now, are you finished? I'd like to take a shower before I go."

"Uh, okay..."

"Be a love and make me some toast and juice? Oh, and some cereal as well. Do we have strawberries? "

"Yeah, I think so."

"Fantastic. I've got an absolutely monstrous craving for strawberries. Can you slice them up and put them in the cereal?"

"Sure," Ron said, and he watched in bewilderment as Hermione moved past him and turned on the water for her shower. As he left the bathroom and headed for the kitchen, he made a mental note to corner Harry at the wedding and ask him about mood swings during pregnancy. Harry had been through it before, maybe he could make some sense of it. Or maybe Luna could.

Ron caught himself. Never once in all the years he'd known Luna Lovegood had he asked for her advice on anything; it wasn't that he didn't like her, she did have her good points - besides, she was married to Harry. Come to think of it, Luna had been really calm and tranquil when she was pregnant with Phoebe six years ago; she hadn't been moody or unpredictable (well, not any more unpredictable than usual, she was Luna Lovegood after all). Ron hadn't thought much of her behavior then, but then he hadn't had anything to compare it to.

Ron paused as he was about to reach into the refrigerator to take out the small basket of strawberries. It was as if a lightbulb had gone off in his head. He would ask Luna.

**

"Finally, Hermione, it's about time! Where have you been?" Ginny couldn't have been more relieved when Hermione Apparated into her living room at eight forty-five.

"Sorry, I overslept," Hermione replied cheerfully as she set down her bag and dress on the sofa. "Well, actually, Ron let me sleep in. Where's your mum?"

"She realized that she'd left something back at the Burrow, so she just Apparated out to get it. It's the first moment of peace I've had all morning." Ginny took Hermione's arm and steered her into the bathroom and shut the door.

"What are you doing?" Hermione asked, looking around her as if she'd never been in a bathroom before.

"I've got to tell you something. Promise you'll keep it a secret?"

"Of course, if you stop squeezing my arm so tightly. I'm losing circulation."

"Sorry. I might be pregnant! Isn't that exciting?"

But instead of looking happy, Hermione looked more hesitant. Her brow furrowed. "Really?" she said, feigning a smile.

"What, you're not happy for me?" Ginny took a step back and gave Hermione a hurt look.

"No, I'm - well, of course I'm happy for you, Gin. But it's just...are you sure you're ready for this? I mean, you're only just getting married."

"But it's a baby, Hermione! I've always wanted to have a baby. It'll be so much fun, the two of us - no, make that the three of us, with Luna - being pregnant all at the same time! Our babies can play together."

"So what makes you think you're pregnant?"

"Well, it just happened last night." Ginny's cheeks flushed hotly. "Neville came over, and one thing led to another. He was so adorable, and sweet - he wanted to make sure I was really going to marry him. I know I promised mum I'd wait, but I couldn't resist. So how long do you think I should wait until I take one of those Muggle tests? Or maybe I should ask Luna."

"No, it's really too soon for a Muggle test, you won't be able to get an accurate result," Hermione said distractedly.

"So how long, do you think?" Ginny was beside herself; she couldn't figure out what to do with her hands, and she seemed to be floating on air.

"I don't know, a few days at least. Now, shouldn't you be taking a shower by now? I'll just go out here and start getting myself - " Hermione opened the bathroom door just in time to see Mrs. Weasley Apparate into the living room holding a hat box.

"Oh! Hermione, you made it, excellent. Now, what on earth are you both doing in there? Ginny! You haven't showered yet? Hurry up now, we're behind schedule!" Molly set down the hat box, and proceeded into the bathroom, where she set about turning on the water for Ginny.

"Mum, honestly, I can do it myself," Ginny said, but nonetheless her cheeks flushed. For one last time she was her mum's little girl. Even though she acted annoyed, deep down Ginny knew at least part of her would miss it.

* * *

"Mummy, there's an owl at the kitchen window!" Phoebe announced. She stood in the doorway of her parents' bedroom, already dressed in her lavender flower girls' dress, her hair neatly braided down her back.

Harry smiled. "It's probably Neville. He's a nervous wreck, I'm sure. He needs reinforcements. Maybe I'll head over there a bit early."

Phoebe shook her head. "No, it's a different owl. He's kind of snooty. He won't let me touch him and he sticks his nose in the air."

"It must be from Cho. I invited her over for tea to talk about the Quidditch idea," Luna remarked. She turned away from the mirror where she'd just finished expertly braiding her hair in a style identical to Phoebe's. "But she didn't have to go to the trouble of sending an owl."

"Um, Luna, really, I do appreciate that you're being hospitable and everything, but do you think it's a good idea having Cho over here?" Harry said skeptically.

"Damien's mum? He's not coming too, is he?" Phoebe crinkled her nose.

"He's certainly invited."

"Nooo!"

"Phoebe, now calm down," Harry said dutifully, although the idea of any child of Draco Malfoy in his house was not too appealing.

"He's not touching my stuff! He can't come in my room, either," Phoebe declared, and folded her arms determinedly across her chest.

"That's not very nice Phoebe," Luna said.

"Well, he's not nice to me, either. He made fun of my Halloween costume idea!"

"We're not going to argue about this, Pixie. Now let me go see about that owl, he's probably expecting a reply. Oh, I hope we're not out of owl treats, I may have given the last one to Pigwidgeon. I should have bought some more when we were in town yesterday..."

The gray owl was perched on the edge of the windowsill when Luna came into the kitchen. He haughtily stuck out his leg for her to retrieve the scroll, as if it were a great inconvenience for him to have been kept waiting. Luna unfurled the scroll and sat at the table to read while the owl clicked his beak impatiently.

Luna,

Since I will be very busy with the wedding today I'm not sure we'll have time to talk, so I decided to send this owl on ahead. Thank you so much for the invitation for tea tomorrow. Draco has told me that he will be going out of town tomorrow on business, so that would work out fine for us to get together. Certainly I will bring Damien along as well as his Quidditch things. Please tell me if I can bring anything for tea, perhaps a cake or pastries. Feel free to use Simon to send your reply and don't worry about giving him a treat, I'm afraid he's very finicky about his diet. See you soon.

Sincerely,

Cho Chang Malfoy

Luna smiled as she read the letter. She wrote out a quick reply specifying the time - one o'clock sounded about right - and accepted Cho's offer of bringing cake. Then she tied the scroll to Simon's leg, and started to pat the bird's head. But before she could even lay a finger on him, he swept off into the morning sunlight in the direction of Malfoy Manor. Nonplussed, Luna folded her arms across her front and watched the bird drift slowly out of sight. Yes, this was an excellent idea, and it was definitely about time.