The Plan

The Plan

Chapter 3 - Planning.

"Hermione," he said in a very commanding voice. She slowly raised her eyes to meet his. "Are you... are you pregnant?" he asked.

His blue eyes stared down at her with determination, telling her that he loved her and that he was there with her.

Slowly, she nodded her head, and his eyes widened.

"Oh," he said, sitting up. Despite her own reassurances, Hermione felt previously forgotten fears twist in her stomach, and unaccountable nervousness.

"Ron?" she said timidly, trying to gauge his reaction from his posture, because all she could see was his back.

"It explains a lot," he said, expelling a breath of air.

"What is that supposed to mean?" she asked indignantly, crossing her arms.

"It explains you looking so tired for one," he said, turning to look up at her. "A baby, Hermione?"

His eyes held a slightly wild look to them.

"How are we supposed to cope with a baby?" he asked a bit loudly.

"How the hell do I know? You think I planned on getting pregnant?" she said at equal volume.

"But... but... A baby!"

"Yes, Ron, they do come along occasionally," she said, her lips drawn in to a straight line, strangely reminiscent of Professor McGonagall.

"How long have you known?" he asked quietly.

"Only a week," she answered, her shoulders dropping slightly. "I'm three months along... I didn't realise... I thought I was over-working and... I had my period last month, so I didn't think..."

His eyes immediately changed from startled to concerned. "Is that normal?"

"Yes, it happens sometimes. But I have it all written down in my diary, and I didn't even notice till now! My baby's heart has been beating inside me, and I didn't even know!" she cried.

"Hermione, it's okay..." he assured, pulling her into his arms. "Everyone's had a lot on their minds these last few months."

"I know... but that's no excuse. This is entirely my fault, if I hadn't forgotten..."

"Hermione, this is not your fault!" he said, in a tone that brooked no argument. "We are both in this."

"Ron," she whispered, burying her head in his neck, "I've been so scared thinking I might have to do this on my own."

"I'm not leaving you, Hermione," he said, deadly serious. He tightened his grip around her body, and kissed the top of her head, murmuring, "You do realise that you have to marry me now, or my mum'll kill me."

"Ron!" she chastened, playfully poking his chest.

He cut her off excitedly. "And wait till I tell Percy; I think he was planning on being the first to have kids. He is going to be so-"

"Ron..." she warned, looking up at him.

"Annoyed!" he said, laughing and looking generally pleased with himself.

She found herself laughing too, shaking her head at his antics, although in truth, she felt a huge weight sliding from her shoulders.

"Do you want to have a baby?" he asked, watching her carefully.

She looked at him seriously. He was looking unsure and confused, much like she had the past week. Somehow, knowing that made her feel less alone; he was going to be there with her, this was all new to him as well.

"I want to have your baby; it's a lot sooner than I thought... but what's done is done. And... and having a baby isn't the end of the world; I could live to be a hundred."

He looked relieved as he ducked his head down to rest their foreheads together.

"I'm going to be a dad," he said, giving her a goofy grin, but there was unmistakable pride in his eyes as his voice softened. "And a husband."

Their eyes met, and Hermione felt an insecurity rise and burst from her lips.

"What if I'm a terrible mother? What if I'm too strict or... or... I smother too much?" she said, looking worried.

A small smile played across his lips as he took her hand in his. "Hermione, we can only try our best; no one's perfect!"

"Do you think?" she said, looking hesitant.

"Love, you'll do just fine," he assured.

Hermione smiled her first real smile for the week, and Ron smiled in return. She rested her head on his shoulder, relieved and exhausted.

"Shame about the plan though..." he mumbled.

"Hmm?" she murmured sleepily.

"Oh... nothing, Love," he said, running his hand through her hair.

The heat of the fire, and the feel of security that came with lying in Ron's arms, started to lull Hermione to sleep. As her breathing fell into an even pattern, Ron looked down at the woman sleeping in his arms thoughtfully.

He smiled with satisfaction.

"The plan," he whispered.

* * *

Sunlight drifted into the room between the blinds, light bouncing off the dust particles that continually drifted in the air. Clean sheets rubbed against her bare legs, as she accidentally strayed from the small cocoon of warmth her body had made amongst the sheets. Pulling the covers up to neck, she tried to stay asleep. As usual, she felt lousy and she wondered if the morning sickness was ever going to end.

She felt under the bed for a vial of Morning Sickness Cure; once located, she failed miserably in mustering enough strength to remove the cork. A pair of strong hands covered her own and uncorked it with ease for her. Ron's body nestled up against her, and he kissed her neck. Unfortunately, Hermione wasn't feeling up to enjoying his kisses; bringing the small bottle to her lips, she swallowed the contents in one horrible gulp.

Ron held her while the groggy, sick feeling started to disappear, and eventually she turned to smile at him.

He kissed her on the lips and immediately screwed up his face.

"Yuck!" he said. "Morning; now get dressed - you're going shopping with my sister."

"What? On a Sunday?"

"Yep, I want you to go pick something to get married in," he said, a mischievous grin on his face.

"What are you up to?"

"You wound me, Love," he said, feigning a pain in his chest, before resuming snuggling with her and continuing to smile.

"Don't smile like that! You look just like the twins!" she said, trying to poke him playfully, but Ron took her hand and kissed it before he got up, and dragged himself towards the shower. Hermione however, refusing to get up on a Sunday, curled into the centre of the bed and started falling back to sleep for a while.

"Hermione," cooed Ron, poking the pile of blankets heaped into the middle of the bed, "wakey, wakey!"

"Go away," was the muffled response.

"The sun is shining outside... It's a beautiful day!" he continued brightly.

"If I promise to marry you, will you go away?" she asked hopefully.

"Nope, now get up," he said, grabbing hold of the blankets and pulling. After a huge tug of war, Hermione found herself sprawled in an undignified fashion across the bed without any blankets, while Ron stood looking unruffled, surrounded by blankets.

Sulking, Hermione dragged herself through the shower, emerging sometime later to find Ginny and Ron talking over a cup of tea in the kitchen. Ron handed her a cup, and Ginny stood beaming at her.

"I told him you'd say yes, but he wouldn't listen," she declared, causing a small blush to make its way up Ron's neck.

"Hmm," said Hermione unintelligently, sipping her tea.

"I wouldn't bother trying to get a conversation out of her for at least another hour," warned Ron, kissing Hermione on the head affectionately. "Now, I'll see you both at the Burrow later; have a nice day."

"Ron?" asked Hermione before he could vanish.

"Oh, yeah," he said, "I've withdrawn money from our account for you." He indicated a pouch on the kitchen top. "I'll speak to you later."

And he Disapparated, leaving a speechless Hermione.

"What is he up to?" she wondered aloud.

* * *

Later that afternoon, Ginny and Hermione arrived at the Burrow, carrying a few shopping bags between them. In the kitchen, the rest of the Weasleys sat around the table laughing and chatting loudly. When the two young ladies entered, everyone turned to greet them loudly by raising their drinks to them, and by the looks of it, they had all settled in for the evening.

Ron sat between Charlie and Harry, arguing amiably with his brothers on the chances of Puddlemere making the league. When he spotted her enter, he finished his beer and stood up, followed by a grinning Harry.

Harry reached her first, and he surprised her by pulling her into a tight hug.

"Hey, keep your mitts off her, she's mine!" Ron exclaimed, pulling Harry away playfully, and grabbing her around the waist.

"Hmm..." Harry said, pretending to look hurt, but spotting Ginny he grinned, "I'll just have to put 'my mitts' elsewhere then, won't I?"

Ginny noticed his look and blushed instantly, which only caused Harry's grin to widen further.

Ron just lifted an eyebrow and smiled at his best friend knowingly.

"Want me to sort him out, Gin?" asked Bill, leaning back on his chair and throwing his empty bottle into the bin.

"Nah, I can take him," said Ginny, handing Bill a new bottle.

"Thanks," he said, taking a long sip.

Harry just raised an eyebrow at her statement, and if possible, she blushed even harder. Hermione watched with interest, wondering what was going on between the pair. Before anything else could happen however, Mrs Weasley came bustling over to offer them a plate of sandwiches.

"Did you girls have a nice day?" she asked kindly.

"Yes, thanks, Mrs Weasley," said Hermione, taking a sandwich hungrily.

Mrs Weasley's eyes widened, and she looked up in surprise at her youngest son.

"Ron... what... she's wearing an engagement ring!" she exclaimed loudly. This effectively silenced the whole room. Everyone started straining their necks to look at Hermione's hand.

"That's because I asked her to marry me," said Ron, grinning.

Mrs Weasley smiled happily, her eyes misting. She pulled her youngest son into a hug, (which wasn't an easy feat considering height differences), and Ron didn't even bother to fight being squeezed to death. Next came Mrs Weasley's death squeeze on Hermione, who was starting to look a bit embarrassed at everyone's attention. Eventually, everyone had hugged them repeatedly, ("Another sister to torment!" cried George gleefully), and Mrs Weasley had disappeared, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue.

Several toasts later, (in which Hermione refused to have more than one butter beer,) Ron grabbed her hand and sneaked her up to his room.

"Well, this is something I never imagined having to do again," he laughed, closing the door quietly. "I bet they'll come looking for us in a minute."

"Probably," she said. Ron stood looking at her, and she looked right back.

"What is it, Love?" he asked, pulling her in a hug.

"Long day," she replied.

He smiled, pulling her down on to his creaky old bed.

"Did you see anything you liked today?" he enquired.

"Yeah, I have something to show you," she said, reaching for the bags at the foot of his old bed.

"Wait, I have something for you too," he said, going over to a drawer.

Hermione handed him one of the boxes, and he handed her a file. Simultaneously, they started to open their presents.

Hermione opened the file to find a stack of parchment and a picture of a small stone cottage that looked a lot like the Burrow. Except it didn't have any windows, and the roof looked like it needed fixing. Its gardens where overgrown, and it generally looked run down and disused.

Hermione looked curiously at the attached parchment, and found they were papers to buy the house. It had four bedrooms, an attic, cellar, kitchen, two bathrooms, a living room, a greenhouse and an outdoor toilet, along with half an acre of land. Hermione's mouth opened in shock; did Ron want to buy this?

She studied the picture with renewed interest; the poor house looked neglected, and she was dubious as to whether she wanted to live in such a haunted looking place.

"That house is about twenty minutes away by broom," he explained, staring at the half-opened box in front of him, "it's been left empty for as long as I can remember, and I've always wanted it. An elderly couple used to own it; when they died, they passed it on to their eldest daughter, who lives in London with her own family. She told me that she never had the heart to sell it, but I convinced her to sell it to me."

"Can we afford it?" she asked, looking dubious, a four bed-roomed house with half an acre of land had to be costly.

"It's in such need of repair, she gave me a pretty good offer, so yeah. But to afford it, we would have to give up the flat. I'm going to ask my brothers to go look at the place tomorrow, so we can judge how much work needs to be done. I'm just worried it won't be ready in time."

"In time for what?" she asked.

"The baby, of course," he said, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh. Right," said Hermione.

Ron carried on opening the box as she flipped through the pages.

"Bloody hell, they're so small!" he said, pulling out a tiny pair of socks, and a small Chudley Cannons T-shirt, grinning broadly.

"I had to buy them while Ginny wasn't looking," admitted Hermione. "Do you like them?"

"I love them! I can start training him to play Quidditch right away!"

"Him?" she asked.

"Or her..." he said, kissing her lightly. "Mind you, Mum'll make the nicest blankets and clothes if you ask her. We all have our own blankets from when we were babies."

Ron was smiling, and his eyes glowed as he carefully folded the material back in to the box reverently.

"Do you think she'll be mad because we're so young?"

"What? Heck no, she'll be ecstatic. You'll probably have trouble keeping her away from the house if I know my Mum."

To Be Continued...

* * *