A Summer of Love

Harry fell into a deep slumber, thoughts of Hermione and Ashley pervading his dreams. Even in his conscious mind, Harry knew that this was turning out to be one of the best summers of his life. Harry may have even dared to say that this was one of the best weeks of his life.

Unfortunately, Harry's dreams came to an abrupt end when he awoke, for the second time that week, to the very loud cries of Ashley Granger. When he awoke, Harry had to take a second to remember where he was, and why there was a baby wailing down the hall.

Harry quickly walked down the hall to Ashley's room. Hermione was standing over the crib, rocking the baby. She looked at Harry and said, "Go back to sleep."

Harry shook his head and walked over to her. He gestured for Ashley, but Hermione was still lightly bouncing the wailing child. Harry sighed softly. "Hermione, I know what to do."

Hermione turned on him. "Then why don't you tell me, or at least show me, so next time I know what to do."

Harry recoiled slightly. "Okay. First thing I did was change the diaper."

Hermione marched down the stairs, with Harry in tow. He watched as she quickly changed a very soiled diaper with ease. Still, Ashley showed no signs of stopping. Hermione looked at Harry, slightly exasperated.

Harry swallowed, then said, "Then I gave her some warm milk in a bottle."

Hermione nodded, and went to the kitchen. She heated up the milk, wailing baby on her hip, and tested it on her wrist. It seemed okay for the baby, so Hermione let the baby suckle the bottle. She smiled at Harry, and sat down next to him on the couch. She looked at Ashley much like the way Mrs. Granger did. It reminded Harry of how a mother would look on her own child.

"It's amazing."

Harry snapped out of his reverie. "What?"

"It's amazing. One minute, she's a wailing terror. The next minute she's sucking contentedly on a bottle. Then the next, she could be as fun as anything you've seen," Hermione elaborated.

Silence fell as Harry pondered this. All that was heard was the consistent suck, suck, suck on the bottle.

Harry looked at Hermione, watching as she was giving Ashley that look again. "I guess that life goes in cycles," Harry started philosophically. "You're a baby. Like you said, crying one moment, happy the next. Then you're a kid. Pretty much content with life. Sure, some things may get you down, like Billy stealing your shovel. But all in all, you're pretty happy with life." Harry paused, meeting Hermione's eyes.

"Then you're a teenager. You're life is horrid. Nothing ever goes right. Oh, glorious angst! One minute you're crying up a storm, the next you're laughing with your friends, the next you're angry with the friends you were just laughing with," Harry continued, watching for Hermione's reaction. "Then you're an adult. Life is good. Sure, some things may get you down, like work and bills. But all in all, you're pretty happy with life."

Comprehension started dawning in Hermione's eyes. She could see where Harry was going. As he paused, the sucking on the bottle was still evident. "Then you're one of the elderly. Just like a baby, you're being taken care of, all over again. Except this time it's your kids taking care of you."

Harry stopped talking, and averted his eyes from Hermione's. He was slightly embarrassed. She was silent, stunned even. He watched as Ashley spit out an almost empty bottle. Hermione gave Ashley to Harry to burp, while she cleaned the bottle in the sink. She hadn't said anything. Did Harry do something wrong?

Harry tapped Ashley on the back lightly, waiting for the burp. He was thinking about what he had just said. For the most part, that had just flowed out. He hadn't really thought about it. It just... happened.

Ashley wasn't burping. Harry stood her up on his knees and looked at her. "Why aren't you burping?"

He promptly received his answer.

"BLOODY HELL!" Harry roared.

Hermione shouted from the kitchen, "Harry, not in front of the baby. Honestly."

Harry sputtered in rage. Ashley was giggling happily.

Finally, when Harry was able to form a coherent sentence, he said, "But the baby threw up on me." Harry said the last part trying not to shout. Ashley's giggles had subsided slightly, but some were still coming.

Hermione walked into the living room. She took Ashley from Harry. She cooed at the baby, "Did you make an ickle mess? Well, don't do that again. We don't want Harry shouting anymore naughty words, do we?" Hermione smiled at Harry, who was clenching and unclenching his fists.

Ashley let out a squeal, and Hermione promptly took her upstairs, and put her to sleep. She came back down stairs a few minutes later, to see Harry still in the same position on the couch, though not as mad as he was.

She smirked. "Do you want to wash that off, or do you want baby barf to adorn your shirt for eternity?"

Harry looked at her, blinking. He stood up, careful not to drip any of the vomit on the floor. He walked carefully into the washroom. Hermione giggled and returned to her room.

Harry took off his shirt, and washed it in the bathtub. Once he was positive that every last bit of baby vomit was off of the shirt, he walked onto the Grangers' back porch, and hung his sopping wet T-shirt on their railing.

He lay back down on the couch, staring at the ceiling. Had he really said what he had said about life, and cycles, and philosophy? Or had he just stared at Hermione while imagining that he said that. Well, he didn't mind the staring part, but imagining you saying something that long. That would be insane.

Maybe he really did have head problems.

Harry shook his head and walked up the stairs. He peeked into Ashley's room, looking for any signs of another crying fit. Seeing no signs of an outburst, Harry exited the room, and collided with Hermione.

"Harry!" Hermione whispered loudly. She quickly backed away from him, blushing heavily.

Harry closed the door quietly, watching Hermione. Her blush was so deep he could see it in the dark. "Hermione," he whispered back.

Suddenly, he realized why Hermione was so mortified. He was still shirtless. And while she had seen him without a shirt before, they had never been that close.

Hermione started apologizing rapidly, "Oh, Harry! I'm sorry! I just hadn't heard you come up the steps yet. And I was worried that something had happened and I wanted to come downstairs to check on you. And I'm really, really, sorry."

Harry grinned and walked closer to Hermione, placing a friendly hand on her shoulder. "It's okay. It could have happened to anyone."

Harry heard Hermione let out a sigh of relief, and saw a smile appear on her face. He withdrew his hand, and let it hang by his side.

He had the strongest urge to kiss her. But he suppressed his hormones, telling himself that her apology had obviously illustrated that she was only interested in him as a friend. Otherwise, she might not have been apologizing like mad.

But there was a very quiet voice in his head that spoke very deliberately, trying to fuel his desire. She was worried about you.

Harry swallowed. They continued staring at each other for a few moments until Harry said, "Well, I suggest we go to bed."

Hermione flushed again, looking at the floor. "Right." She walked to her door, and turned to Harry. "Night."

"Night."