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BerichtGeplaatst: za feb 26, 2011 18:49 

Ik ben eigenlijk niet zo van de one-shots, maar ik heb er over de jaren toch wel enkele geschreven waar ik wel kritiek op zou willen hebben.

Een James/Lily fanfic. Hun tweede confrontatie met The Dark Lord. Verpest dat de Kerstdagen of niet?
Een Hermione/Ron fanfic. Heb je je ooit afgevraagd hoe erg Ron zou flippen op het moment dat zijn eerste kind geboren werd? We houden van 'm, maar hij heeft issues, admit it.
Een Next-Gen fic over Hugo dat ik ooit eens voor een challenge heb geschreven. Lang en fluffy, be warned.

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"Boo... Guess who?"


Laatst bijgewerkt door Michelle op ma mei 02, 2011 17:46, in totaal 4 keer bewerkt.

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BerichtGeplaatst: za feb 26, 2011 18:50 

The Second Time

25th of December, 1979


He grinned, waving his wand at the candles for the finishing touches. The room was lit up by the flickering of orange flames, slowly dancing through the air as if they were performing before an audience. They took the attention away from the delicious food on the table, but then again, she had always appreciated ambiance more than she had food. He secretly even hoped she would be so taken away by the beautiful Christmas tree, the dozens of candles floating around and the soft music playing in the background that she wouldn't notice it was his mum's cooking.

"James, m'boy, you're a bloody genius," he told himself, patting himself on the shoulder and grinning widely. He jumped as he heard the familiar sound of someone Apparating in the hallway, quickly glancing around the room, making sure he hadn't forgotten anything.

"James, are you home yet?" she called as she entered the kitchen, still oblivious to the state of the living room. She stumbled around the room, following her usual routine of pouring herself coffee after arriving home.

"In here, Lils," he answered as casually as possible, a self-satisfied grin threatening to escape. He leant against the wall, his arms crossed, watching her as she finally entered the room. Her eyes widened, her hand flying to her chest in surprise, dropping her cup. He smirked as he saved the cup from shattering to pieces with a flick of his wand. "Surprised, are you? You always think so little of me, Lils." He raised his eyebrows teasingly as he walked towards her, kissing her forehead. "Merry Christmas."

"Apparently so," she whispered back in awe, looking up at him. "James, you really didn't have to do this."

He grinned and pointed over his shoulder to the tree. "Got you a present and everything."

She laughed, throwing her hair back over her shoulder as she raised an arm to push a candle in the opposite direction. She smiled at him, "You put a lot of work in this then."

"I should get a 'thank you' kiss from a certain pretty redhead, don't you think?"

She pretended to ponder that for a moment, sliding her arms around his neck slowly. "Well, maybe just a small one." She caught his lips in her, losing herself in the romantic atmosphere.

"Presents first?" he murmured against her lips, slowly pulling away from her. He led her over to the couch before ducking his head in the corner of the room, underneath the tree and reappearing with a small box in his hand. "I thought it would go nice with the ring," he admitted sheepishly, gesturing towards the wedding ring on her finger. He tossed it to her, laughing when she caught it clumsily.

"Did you honestly just throw my present at me?" she asked, grinning, carefully ridding the package of the paper.

"To you, Lils, not at you. There's a difference," he answered simply before sitting next to her, slinging an arm around her shoulder.

"I'm sure," she whispered back as she took of the lid of the box, holding back a gasp as she saw the silver necklace. It was simple, just a chain, but made of the most delicate-feeling metal and it fit her ring perfectly. "James, thank you." She looked up at him with a sweet smile and leant in for another kiss, placing her free hand on his cheek. She felt him grin beneath her lips.

A pop sounded in the kitchen, frantic footsteps following it before the door was slammed against the wall. "Death Eater attack in Diagon Alley! Stop smooching and get going," a deep voice ordered, the roll of the eyes that followed obvious in his voice.

They both jumped up from the couch, the necklace falling to the floor as they hurried to join Sirius in the hallway. He was tapping his foot impatiently, but greeted them with a wide smile as they entered the kitchen. "Having a good Christmas?" he asked, grinning.

James grinned back as Lily rolled her eyes, trying to hold back her own smile. "We were, Sirius, thanks."

"Alright then, let's go."

As they appeared in Diagon Alley, they were met by the roaring of fire and the shattering of glass windows. The smoke made them cough and the cracks of the glass underneath their feet as they walked took away the usual chipper mood that hung in the street. Something was wrong, though, they realised. There was destruction everywhere, shops ruined, brooms broken and clothes and cloaks ripped to shreds... but no people. They would have thought the fight was already over if the remaining windows had not been seemingly shattering on their own. Something had to be there, waiting to take them by surprise.

James carefully took Lily by the arm and put her between him and Sirius, sending her a look that told her to be on her guard. Sirius' eyes flickered from one building to the next, up to the rooftops and peering into the shops, trying to find someone or something, anything. His knuckles turned white from clenching his wand and the vein in his neck throbbed.

Then, all of a sudden, it was as if all hell broke loose. First, they heard numerous people Apparating, and then there was screaming. The screaming was followed by calls for help and fierce battle cries. The Death Eaters were duelling the members of the Order of the Phoenix. It was a battle field, surrounded by fire, making it almost impossible for them to breathe.

Sirius cursed under his breath before heading into the mass of people himself, leaving James and Lily alone near the door of Flourish and Blott's. He sent her a determined look and took her hand, dragging her into the battle.

He shouted curses at every hooded and masked figure he encountered, hearing his wife do the same next to him, never letting go of her hand. Breathing in the smoke made his lungs ache and he felt a burning scratch on his temple. He wasn't going to complain about a scratch when people were dying, though.

He jumped over a body, not realising whose body it was until Lily screamed and stopped him by pulling at his arm. "What?" he asked, panicked, immediately searching her for any injuries. He reached her face, taking in the horrified look in her eyes as she stared down at the woman at their feet. He swallowed thickly as he recognised the face. Dorcas Meadows. He tore his eyes away from the shocked face of the woman they had known for years, who had been with the Order from the start and who had helped teach them everything they knew.

He tugged on Lily's hand, making her look up, and then dragging her away from the body, his wife heavily protesting behind him. "We can't just leave her there, James!"

"We're sitting ducks in the middle of the street. We'll get her later!" He stubbornly continued to pull her away from the body, until he suddenly lost the grip on her arm. He turned around quickly and saw a flicker of red hair disappear back into the mass of people. He didn't think twice about it as he ran back to where they had encountered the body of the woman who had meant so much to both them personally and the Order.

As he reached her, he saw Lily duelling with a Death Eater, protectively standing over the body of Dorcas Meadows. He snarled angrily, shooting a spell directly at the mask, shattering it and most likely killing the person behind it.

"Lils!" He ran over to her, and took her by the arm. "What the hell where you thinking?!" He pushed her to the side as a misdirected spell flew towards them, hitting a Death Eater not far behind. He missed the terrified look on his wife's face as he shot several spells in the direction where it had come from.

"James," Lily whispered, squeezing her husband's arm.

He looked down at her, the look on her face making his heart jump as he turned to watch where her stare led. "Oh, gedoe," he cursed. "gedoe."

"He's here," she whispered back.

He heard the high-pitched laughter in the distance and shuddered. He could recognise that laugh from anywhere. After hearing it once you could never forget it again.

Trying to make her feel better, he grinned weakly. "Just as ugly as last time, eh?"

They noticed he was watching the battle, not even trying to participate. He was just looking, watching with a sadistic smile on his face, loving the death and destruction his minions brought upon the magical world. They didn't realise his eyes landed on them before they were dragged forward, towards him, by some unspoken magic. They tried to struggle, digging their heels in the ground as she tried to undo the spell, but it was a useless attempt. Before long, they were not five feet away from him as he looked at them with disdain, his eyes holding the same evil glint they did the last time.

"You shouldn't stare at your superiors," he said slowly. He smiled maniacally, pointing his wand at Lily. "It's rude. Crucio!"

As she collapsed next to him, screaming and curling into a ball, James knelt down next to her, touching her cheeks and watching helplessly as she begged him to make it stop. "Stop torturing her, you son of a bitch!" He glared up at him, shouting a spell he knew would be useless. It was deflected easily and the Dark Lord tutted disapprovingly.

James looked back down at Lily as he realised she'd stopped screaming, her muscles relaxing and tears still streaming down her face. He kissed her eyelids and whispered apologies, asking her if she was okay. Somehow he was able to shut everything out: the battle, the exhaustion, the smoke, the screaming, the heat, and even their enemy just a few feet away. He concentrated fully on touching every part of Lily's body, making sure she was okay and making sure she knew he loved her.

"I'll be right back," he whispered before gently laying her down on the ground and standing up, looking up defiantly. He lifted his wand and he could have sworn he saw fury cross Voldemort's features as James decided to put up a fight against him.

At the same time James' spell was supposed to hit, another came flying from the side, striking the Dark Lord in the side, making him stumble.

He looked up and relief filled him. Dumbledore.

~*~

James let out a deep breath as he Apparated into their bedroom, Lily in his arms. He carefully put her on the bed, gently stroked her cheek, and dropped down next to her. He closed his eyes and draped his arm over his face, hearing the thump of his heartbeat in his ears.

"Are you alright?" Lily asked next to him.

Taking another deep breath, he opened his eyes and sat up with a small smile. "We're alive."

She frowned and rested her head on her arm. "That's not what I asked." She placed her free hand on the side of his face, reminding him of the deep cut there.

"It just stings." He shrugged, pushing himself up to press a reassuring kiss to her forehead before sitting up.

"What are you doing?"

He turned around with a big grin on his face. "I hope you like Mum's heated up food with necklace on top."

_________________
"Boo... Guess who?"


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BerichtGeplaatst: do maart 03, 2011 14:40 

De titel heb ik eventjes geleend van Rebecca Lavelle's Gentle Gentle, een nummer dat voorkomt in de televisieserie McLeod's Daughters.
En ja, ik ben me ervan bewust dat al mijn verhalen in het Engels zijn, maar het is al eeuwen geleden dat ik in het Nederlands geschreven heb. Te 'blah'.


Life of your Life
Rose Ronald Weasley


A mild breeze ruffled the baby blue curtains of the nursery. The room was light, the sun shining brightly through the opened window. A happy, bubbly atmosphere filled the room as a wind chime jingled merrily in the wind.

It was mid-summer and even though June didn't bring overly hot days with her, the house felt hot and slightly constricting to the pregnant woman inside, reading a book in the rocking chair near the crib. She was fanning herself with her left hand absent-mindedly as she hummed a lullaby her mother used to sing to her.
Her thick, bushy curls were tied up in a tight, messy bun and the light yellow summer dress she was wearing was stretched tightly across her swollen abdomen.

"Wasn't that nice?" she whispered to her stomach, rubbing it lovingly. "The boy lived happily ever after with the princess." As if the baby heard her, it kicked and Hermione cringed slightly. "A strong little fellow like your daddy," she commented, smiling at the thought of her husband.

Ron Weasley, best friend, husband and father of their unborn son.

Another Weasley boy was on the way, according to the Muggle gynaecologist she had seen, just to get pictures from the echography. Ron had thought she was crazy for letting the woman touch her belly with the strange device and he had been ready to hex her when Hermione flinched at the cool gel. Luckily, the doctor had been standing with her back towards him, or she would have gotten the worst scare of her life when she came eye to eye with his wand.

She was nearly nine months pregnant and the delivery couldn't be far off, which would scare most women. Most women, however, weren't Hermione Granger-Weasley. She had it all figured out. She wasn't naΓ­Β―ve enough to think it wouldn't hurt, or that it wouldn't be hard, but she knew exactly who she wanted there, which pain killing potions she wanted and she already had the baby's room ready and his name figured out. The newest addition to the Weasley family would be Christopher Ronald Weasley.

She carefully stood up from the rocker and went to stand by the window, letting the summer breeze hit her face and cool her skin. She rubbed her lower back with a frown on her face and she realised the pain had intensified since that morning.

She looked at her watch and noticed it was nearly half past four, which meant Ron would be home in less than thirty minutes. She smiled. Ron. He had been ever so sweet since she had gotten pregnant. He rubbed her feet each night and he spooned up behind her in bed, drawing slow circles over her stomach to try and calm both her and the baby down.

One night, she had even caught him talking to her tummy, whispering to the baby about Quidditch – already keeping his son up-to-date about the Chudley Cannons, she was sure – and he had spent countless minutes talking about their family and how great he thought its mummy was.

It had brought tears to her eyes and when he'd heard her silent sobs he had quickly turned around, his face red as a tomato. She had laughed and with an embarrassed smile he'd drawn her close and kissed her softly on her forehead.

As she remembered that night nearly two months ago, tears slipped from the corners of her brown eyes. It was that night that she had realised that it was all real. Their marriage, their baby and their happily ever after.

She moved away from the window, wiping away her tears as she went downstairs, frowning as she realised she was literally waddling down the stairs. She sat down in the living room and switched on the television, waiting until Ron came home.

The cramps in her back were highly uncomfortable, but she had been having them for about a week now and the Healer said it was completely normal. Hermione had let it at that, realising she would just have to sit it out a few more weeks at the most. Ron, however, had made some rude comment, yet sweet, in a caring sort of way, about how he was sure it was normal, but the Healer wasn't the one who had to go through them.

Hermione smiled as she heard the small plop in the hallway, announcing that her husband was home again. Sure enough, his voice called out to her a second later. "Hermione? I'm home."

"In here, Ron," she answered, switching of the cooking programme she had been watching. She was sure she wouldn't be able to stand the smell of all the 'exotic' dishes they had been talking about, but just watching them had made her stomach growl in hunger. She was almost starting to believe the whole 'eating for two' thing.

His red hair was the first to stick itself in the room as he smiled at her. He sat down next to her, put his arm around her shoulder and kissed her temple.

"How was your day?" she asked, smiling as he kicked off his shoes.

"The usual," he answered casually, "little things. We've been keeping an eye on a family that used to be closely associated with some Death Eaters, but it's nothing really." He sent her a cheeky grin as his hand sneaked down to run over her stomach. "How have you been today? Had fun together?" he joked.

Hermione laughed softly. "Well, I read him a book this afternoon and I cleaned a bit this morning." She rolled her eyes and decided to leave out the back pains as he frowned.

"You shouldn't be cleaning. I told you I'd do it in your final month."

"Don't worry so much, Ron. I'm fine." He didn't seem all that convinced, but after he'd learned about her pregnancy he had been letting her win their meaningless little arguments more and more often. A part of her thought it was a shame since it was a basic ingredient of their relationship, but she had to admit it had helped get her stress level down and she found it too sweet to object.

"Do you want me to start supper?" he asked, toying with a loose strand of her hair. He grinned as he heard her stomach growl. "I guess you do."

She smiled back and nodded. "There's a casserole in the oven. Harry brought it over this morning. Seems Ginny can't stand them any more since she's had Albus." She chuckled at the frown on his face.

"Aren't women supposed to lose their appetite during their pregnancy, instead of after it?"

"That's what I said," she said, a smile on her face, "but Harry just said Ginny's had too much of them because of the cravings she had and it made her go off casseroles for good." She allowed him to stand up and grinned when he sent her a mock-frown.

"As long as you don't go off them." He grinned and headed for the kitchen. "I love casserole."

She stood up to follow him and called, "Do you want some help?"

"No," the answer came immediately, "Sit down and put your feet up."

She wanted to object, say that she wasn't a cripple and could handle cutting vegetables, but the air was suddenly drained from her lungs as a sharp pain shot through her abdomen. Her legs buckled and she grabbed onto the couch, her fingernails digging into the leather.

When the pain vanished, her lungs started to fill with oxygen again and she gasped loudly.

"What did you say?" Ron asked from the kitchen as she heard some cupboards open and close as the cutlery rang from being thrown on the counters.

She took deep, slow breaths and sat back down, a hand on her belly. She stared down and whispered, "You're not coming now, are you?"

"Hermione?" Ron asked again, sticking his head around the corner and looking at her with a worried expression on his face. He noticed her frown as she looked down at her stomach. "You okay?"

"I don't know," came the breathless response. She looked up at him with a small, uncertain smile. "I think I just had contraction."

Ron's face was blank for a moment before realisation seemed to dawn on him. "A – a contraction? You mean, you're – you're having the ba-baby now?" He went pale and walked towards her slowly, looking at her as if he was judging her, as if he could read the answer off her body.

"I don't know," she answered, "it could be a false alarm." She took a deep breath and smiled at him as Ron knelt in front of her and rubbed her upper leg distractedly. He nodded and swallowed thickly. "So, what do we do now? Do we go to St. Mungo's or –"

"Let's wait until another one – oh!" She gasped for air again as another sharp cramp built in her lower abdomen. She gripped Ron's hand on her thigh and closed her eyes tightly. As the pain slowly passed she kept her eyes closed and whispered, "Ron, I think our baby's coming."

Ron's mouth opened and closed a few times before he settled on squeezing her hand and whispering back, "Why do you think that?" He realised it was probably the stupidest question he could have asked at that moment, as he had seen first-hand the look of pain on his wife's face while she had clawed at his hand, but it was the best reaction he could come up with.

"Because my water just broke," she whispered as she opened her eyes and looked down at him.

"Right," Ron answered stupidly, "St. Mungo's, now, yeah. Apparate, we'll Apparate – No! No, not Apparate, you can't Apparate now. We'll, uh, we'll Floo. Yeah, we'll do that." He looked back up at his wife, surprised to see her calm smile there.

"We'll use the Floo Network," she agreed. "Can you get the powder?"

"Powder, yep, got it." He stood up, quicker than she had ever seen him do, and raced towards the large wooden cupboard where they, or Hermione, really, had decided to put everything which wasn't baby-friendly, including the Floo powder.

Meanwhile, Hermione got up carefully and walked to the fireplace. "Can you get the bag, Ron? I'll need some clothes and books in the hospital."

Ron walked back to her, the pouch in his hand and nodded as he handed it to her. "I'll have Harry or Dad pick it up later. Let's go."

She felt like protesting, and insisting that she needed the bag now, but he had already ushered her into their fireplace and kissed her briefly. "I love you," he whispered, a small, insecure smile on his freckled face.

She couldn't help smiling back as she took some power and gave the rest back to him. She nodded. "I know, love you too. See you in a minute. Saint Mungo's!" In a flash of green flames that seemed to lick at her swollen figure, she disappeared.

He would like to say that he had wasted no time in hurrying after her, but he had in fact felt like he was rooted to the spot, afraid he might say the address wrong in his fear. He realised he couldn't be losing it now, not while Hermione was about to go through all the pains of hell, including the ones they went through in their seventh year, to give him a child. He took a deep breath to calm himself down, but he couldn't help but notice that the nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach was still there when he tumbled out one of the fireplaces in the main hall of the wizarding hospital.

"Mr. Weasley?" a voice called immediately. "I'm assistant Healer Wallace. Your wife is already on her way to the maternity ward. Please follow me."

He nodded wordlessly as he followed the young man into some hall, and then another as they passed rooms full of people. He hadn't even taken the time to see what the Healer looked like as he realised he could be following some troll who was about to look up his wife's dress. He shot the man a quick look, but decided he would worry about that later as they passed a sign saying 'Maternity ward – magical deliveries'.

When they entered a light room, decorated in yellows and greens, the first thing he noticed were the soft moans of pain coming from the chair by the window. Hermione was sitting there, still in her dress, the back of it drenched. Obviously, the Healer had just been trying to help her out of it, the straps hanging off Hermione's shoulders as a new white gown lay forgotten on the bed behind them.

"Just breathe through it, Hermione," the woman encouraged. "It'll pass soon." She turned to Ron and she sent him a warm smile. "Mr. Weasley?" she asked, and he nodded curtly, stepping further into the room and crouching next to his wife who was breathing in deeply as the contraction stopped. "I'm Healer Murdoch." He shook her hand and she gestured to the man next to her. "This is assistant Healer Wallace, he will be there if you need anything, but for now, all we can do is wait until your wife is fully dilated."

Ron nodded and turned back to Hermione, pushing a few strands of hair out of her face. "You okay?" he asked softly.

She smiled at him, a wide, beaming, teeth-showing smile and nodded. "We're having a baby."

He grinned back at her and kissed her forehead. "Yeah, we are." When he turned back around, Healer Murdoch was gone and the assistant was going through some files. He looked back up when Hermione cleared her throat. He smiled politely and came towards them. With some disappointment Ron noticed the man was quite handsome in his lime green robes.

"Can we let our friends know I'm in labour?" she asked as she stood up carefully and headed towards the bed, picking up the gown.

The man nodded. "Of course. If you give me the messages I'll go fetch an owl for you and send them on their way."

Hermione smiled politely and turned to Ron. "Ron, could you just write a note to Ginny and Harry and tell them to let everyone else know?"

Ron nodded and accepted the piece of paper the assistant handed him and quickly scribbled something down with the offered pencil. He handed the folded note back and thanked him as the Healer left the room.

Ron went to stand next to Hermione and took the gown from her. "You need help with this?" He didn't really wait for an answer as he turned her so her back was to him and lowered the zipper. He noticed the dark, wet patch at the back of her legs and tried to imagine the feeling of holding a baby in his arms. Of course he had held a baby before. After all, nearly all of his siblings had decided to somewhat start breeding like rabbits, and he was even godfather to his best friend's oldest son, but he knew it wouldn't be the same. He hadn't rubbed Fleur's stomach as she was heavily pregnant with Victoire, or lovingly whispered to Ginny's when she was carrying James or Albus. With them, he had been an uncle. This time he was going to be a father.

He lowered her dress to the floor and rubbed her shoulders. She raised her arms and he carefully lifted the clean material over her raised arms until it reached her knees. "Get into bed," he ordered softly.

Surprisingly enough, she actually did as he told her to and carefully crawled onto the bed, sitting up against the cushions.

"This sucks," Ron commented a few minutes later after she had had another contraction. "We're just supposed to sit her and wait for the pain to come and go. How long is this going to take?"

Hermione shook her head, smiling, and let her head fall back against the pillows as she closed her eyes.

Three hours of regular contractions later, the room had filled up a bit. Ginny and Molly were now sitting by her bedside, coaching her through her pains while Harry and Ron stood near the window, quietly talking.

"How did you manage to do this twice, mate? I'm completely freaked out something's going to happen," Ron whispered under his breath.

Harry grinned and nodded. "Yeah, I know. Remember how Ginny actually had to scream at me to get it together when she was in labour with James?" He shrugged and clapped Ron on the shoulder. "It'll be okay, it's just a lot of waiting." When he said that, they heard another deep groan coming from the bed as a sweaty Hermione gripped the sheets as she felt another contraction working its way up to a painful peak. She was now breathing through it as Ginny held her hand and Molly encouraged her she could do it and that she needed to keep breathing.

"Merlin, Mum did this seven times!" Ron swore under his breath, shaking his head in disbelief. When Harry chuckled next to him, he turned to his best friend and frowned. "Speaking of kids, where did you leave James and Albus, mate?"

"Bill and Fleur," he answered. "They had to stay home because of Victoire, Dominique and Louis anyway, so they offered to watch them for us while we came here."

Ron nodded and sat down in the chair Hermione had been sitting in when he had first come into the room. When he heard the noise Hermione had been making subside, he rubbed his temples and prepared himself for a long night.

When the Healer finally came in again and announced Hermione was completely dilated, Ron had no idea what time or day it was. He felt like he had been sitting in that room forever, watching helplessly as Hermione went through one painful contraction after another.

Healer Murdoch didn't lose her warm smile as she started ushering everyone but Ron out.

He sat down on a chair next to the bed an he gripped his wife's hand tightly before kissing it. He pulled her attention away from the Healer who was bustling about and smiled at her. "You can do this," he whispered, his voice shaking.

Hermione smiled at him, her hair sticking to her sweaty forehead and her cheeks wet from the tears of pain she had shed during the last hours of contractions. They were coming faster and her entire nether regions were starting to feel numb from the constant pain.

"Okay Hermione," Healer Murdoch said, sending her an encouraging smile from the end of her bed. She pushed the gown up and nodded. "I need you to push at the next contraction, okay?"

Ron squeezed her hand as she nodded, breathing in and out deeply. He flinched when he actually felt her contraction start by her grip getting stronger, her fingernails digging into the skin of his right hand painfully. She took in a deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut as she pushed for the first time.

After what felt like hours of pushing and panting, Hermione fell back against the pillows, sweat drenching the front of her hospital gown and her shoulders moving with her silent sobs. "Ron?" she whispered weakly, opened her eyes and looking at him.

He looked deep into her eyes and kissed her hand, squeezing it tightly in his.

"I'm not doing this again."

He grinned and kissed her hand again, nodding frantically. He leaned up to her and kissed her forehead. "You're doing great, Hermione. You're doing great."

"Another push, Hermione," the Healer said, her smiling face suddenly replaced with a look of utter concentration only a Healer could have at such a moment.

As she pushed again and again, Ron whispered encouraging words into her ear, telling her how much he loved her and how great she was doing. His hand was starting to get a cramp and his back ached from the position he was sitting in, but he hardly noticed as the Healer announced she could see the baby's head and Hermione let out a smothered cry.

"Come on, honey," Ron whispered. "The last one, a big one, Hermione. Come on." He squeezed her hand as she leaned forward, gripped her knee with her other hand and pushed again.

"A shoulder, and another one," the Healer announced. The familiar smile came over her face again and she laughed. "It's almost out... Come on..."

Suddenly, all at once, Hermione sank back into the pillows, her eyes closed in utter exhaustion while the room was filled with a loud, wailing cry and the Healer looked up at them, smiling.

"Congratulations," she said, holding the baby up for the first time, "it's a girl." She quickly waved her wand over the tiny creature and nodded, satisfied. "And she's perfectly healthy.'

Hermione opened her eyes, still breathing deeply and her lids nearly fell shut again as she tried to sit back up. "A – a girl? But, the doctor said it was a boy? We – I – Ron," she turned her head to her husband, a large, teary smile on her face, "we have a girl. We have a daughter."

He looked at loss for words for a moment and then his face broke out in a large smile as he leaned forward and kissed her, thanking her over and over again. He turned to look at the Healer and held out his arms uncertainly as she placed their newborn in his arms, a pink blanket wrapped around her tightly. He grinned as he looked at her tiny face, her eyes scrunched closed as deafening cries arose from her tiny, little mouth.

He looked up at Hermione in wonder and grinned at her. "We'll have to think of a new name," he whispered and his heart jumped at the sound of his wife's joyful laugh.

He handed the baby to her and sat next to her on the bed, kissing her on her forehead, her nose, her mouth and then her forehead again. She smiled at him and then back down at the baby in her arms. She had gripped her fingers with her tiny hand and Hermione kissed her cheek.

"Any ideas?" she whispered, not taking her eyes off her baby. Her baby. A new and wonderful part of their family. She was really here, with all ten fingers and ten toes and Ron's nose and – Merlin – she even had her mother's eyebrows.

"How about... Rose?" Ron said uncertainly, his eyes never leaving the little girl's face. "She's so perfect." He lifted his thumb and carefully rubbed his daughter's rosy cheek.

Hermione looked up at him, her eyes full of love and she smiled. "Rose Weasley," she said, "that's perfect."


_________________
"Boo... Guess who?"


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Volleerd Tovenaar

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BerichtGeplaatst: ma mei 02, 2011 17:45 

Say Yes


It was yet another rainy night in the south-east of Scotland, a town some miles from Edinburgh. The town wasn't overly large and that was the way he liked it. It was one of the reasons he had moved there about three years ago, even though his mother had had trouble letting him leave to live so far away from the family.

He had felt bad about hurting her, even though he knew she was simply having the natural motherly issues with letting him go, but he had admitted to her that all that he really needed he had right there. He never felt at ease between the rooms full of people the family had produced over the years, he was perfectly fine with his flat. It had a fireplace in his living room and his girlfriend in his bed.

Yes, twenty-five-year-old Hugo Weasley felt he had quite a life, even if it was just the quiet kind. He reckoned that there were just a few finishing touches to be made to his life and he had been preparing to make them for some time.

"Are you about done?" he asked with a laugh as he rinsed the remains of the shaving cream off his face. "You've been in there for over thirty minutes and I can safely say your vocal and or singing skills will not improve." He grinned as he heard her turn the shower off.

"I would have been done sooner if you hadn't decided you wanted 'quality time' with me in there," a low, pouting voice said from behind the glass door. The laugh that followed gave her away, though and he immediately quipped back that he hadn't heard her complaining at the time.

"That was just because you couldn't stop kissing me long enough for me to tell you." She stepped out of the shower, a towel wrapped around her pale body. Her light hair was dripping as she pad over to him and kissed his left shoulder blade. He was looking at her through the mirror above the sink, her form blurred and unclear because of the steam.

"You loved it," he concluded, knowing he was right and flashing her a smug grin as he turned around to look properly at her. His buck teeth greeted her, a feature he had inherited from his mother. He had once jokingly cursed that part of her genes – though quite grateful to most of her other ones – but she knew that somewhere he had meant it, atleast partially.
He hated his teeth, but she felt her insides squirm every time he smiled at her. When he told her he was thinking about shrinking them, she had actually threatened him, saying they were cute and she would never cook his favourite meal again if he did it.

"You coming to bed with me?" he asked, his voice a whisper as he trailed a finger over her collar bone. "My Swedish beauty," he added lovingly as she shivered from his touch.

She had come to England to study the making of Invisibility Cloaks, a career choice he did not quite understand. She had soon told him that when she was younger, still living with her father and two brothers, her mother had died and the men could hardly make themselves a sandwich. It resulted into her becoming some sort of second mother in the household, cooking and knitting and sewing where necessary. It was where her hobby of making clothing had come from, and once she had heard of the study program in Britain she had decided to move there.

"You're far away," she said, looking at him with bright blue eyes and a soft smile. She had covered herself with her bathrobe, he noticed, as they headed towards they bedroom.

"Just thinking of when we first met, really," he answered truthfully, kicking open the door and throwing their dark red covers back. With a grin, he pulled out one of his old shirts from underneath his pillow, throwing it to her. She secretly loved to sleep in it and had shyly admitted that it was so she could keep his scent in their bed. After she had come to live with him, it had slowly disappeared and since then it had been a habit of hers to steal from his part of the closet every now and then.

"Again?" she teased, turning her back to him before dropping the robe to the floor and putting his shirt on.

He shrugged as he got in the bed, silently watching as she wiped off her feet before settling down next to him, her head on his chest.

"You have the strangest habits," he commented softly as he placed his hand on her hip. He dropped a kiss onto her blonde hair and she whispered something back. "What?"

"I don't want our bed to get dirty," she repeated, slightly louder, allowing him to hear the sleepiness of her voice.

Hugo grinned, making her look up from his chest with an amused smile. "What's so funny?"

"You said our bed."

She frowned at him, leaning up on her forearms. "Of course I did. It is our bed."

He smiled up at her and nodded. "Yeah, it is." He chuckled at the look on her face and leaned up to kiss her lips, a hand holding her slightly chubby cheek. As he leaned back down into the pillows, she moved with him until she was straddling him, their lips still locked.

She smiled as he pulled away and it gave him the last bit of courage he needed to blurt his next sentence out quickly and sloppily. He swept his eyes over her face, feeling his heart beat wildly in his chest.

She sat up as if suddenly burnt by his chest and looked down at him, her face fully covered in surprise. Her mouth opened and closed a few times as she tried to decide what to say before settling on, "What?"

Hugo squirmed underneath her familiar and uncomfortable gaze, thinking he had made a mistake by blurting it out like that. "Will you marry me?" he asked calmly, his eyes smiling and the corners of his mouth twitching up in adoration. He looked deep into her blue eyes, realising his hands were still on her hips, though she suddenly felt far away from him. He thought of pulling her down against him, but her blank stare made him stop. She sat there for some long minutes, looking down at his face, then down to his chest where she didn't have to see his eyes. Finally, she moved off him, sitting at the edge of the bed, the cold floor sending a shiver up her spine. She vaguely registered the rain outside.

She turned to look at him over her shoulder and bit her lip when she saw his insecure, apologising smile.

"I'm sorry that I sprung it on you like that – I actually have a ring and I was planning this whole evening for us, but I couldn't –"

"What?"

"What do you mean, 'what'?" he asked, scooting closer to her and placing his head on her shoulder, looking up at her left cheek.

"You were planning to ask me to marry you?" Her voice was small, the way it was when she was scared or insecure, he realised.

"Of course I was," he assured her, wrapping his arms around her waist. "I'm sorry that I did it like–"

"No."

"What?"

"No," she repeated. "No marriage. I can't marry you." She avoided his gaze, closing her eyes tightly as she felt hot tears stinging in her eyes.

Hugo blinked, leaning back and staring at her back. A day ago he had been so sure she would say yes and they would live happily ever after like his aunt Ginny and uncle Harry. Then again, a day ago he hadn't thought he would pop the question in bed after he had just insulted her bedroom behaviour.

He kept silent for nearly five long minutes in which Johanna had done everything in her power to avoid looking at him. She knew he would have that hurt look on his face that would plead for her to take her words back, even if that wasn't really what he wanted.

Finally, he nodded as he started to get off the bed. He picked up his wand from his night stand and with a familiar pop he was gone, not even bothering to change his clothes.

The moment the room fell silent again, the sob she had been holding in escaped her throat. She wiped her nose as she stared at the same wall she had been focussing on since she'd realised that she did not have the heart to look at him.
She reached for her robe and slipped it on, drying her face with her sleeve.

Flicking her wand at the wardrobe, the doors sprung open and her clothes started drifting out one by one, folding and calmly settling in her open suitcase that was now lying before her feet.
Her hand shook as she waited for her clothes to pack. Seconds later, the room was empty as she Apparated in front of a door.

Before she could lose her nerve, she rapped her knuckles on the door, breathing in and out harshly. She looked back up as she heard some stumbling inside the house and then the door opened, revealing a sleepy –

"Scorpius," she whispered in greeting, lowering her eyes to his feet.

Scorpius squinted his eyes as he realised who she was. He frowned, looking at his watch. "Johanna? It's past midnight, what are you doing here?" He ran a hand through his blond hair and turned his head as a red-haired female came up behind him.

"Scorpius, what's – Oh, Hanna! What's wrong?" She grabbed the other woman by the arm and pulled her inside. "Scorp, grab her suitcase, will you, honey?" she ordered, not bothering to look back at him as she dragged Johanna into the living room.

"Come on, tell me," she insisted as they settled down onto the couch and the blond's eyes had started to tear up again. They heard Scorpius come in, suitcase in hand, and looking at his wife uncomfortably. He muttered something before opening the kitchen door and disappearing in the room.

"Hugo asked me to marry him," Hanna whispered, her voice broken as she looked down at her clasped hands in her lap.

"Oh, but that's wonderful!" Rose exclaimed, suddenly frowning as she realised Johanna was anywhere near excited. "Right?" she added in a soft voice.

"I said no."

Rose raised her eyebrows and cleared her throat. "Why?" She watched her brother's girlfriend swallow thickly, fidgeting and refusing to look at her.

She finally looked up, tears streaming down her rosy cheeks. She shook her head slowly. "I don't know. He surprised me, scared me."

Rose moved closer to her and put an arm around her friend. "Then tell him that."

"I can't," she whispered back, dragging the back of her hand over her wet cheeks, "he left."

Rose frowned.

~***~


Closing the door softly behind her, Rose nearly jumped as she felt warm breath on her neck, whispering something against her flesh. Pulling back, she brushed a strand of soft, blonde hair away from his face and leant up to kiss his lips. "What?"

"I asked how she's doing," he replied, steering them both towards their own bedroom.

Rose shrugged against the arm he had slung around her shoulders and sighed deeply. "She's asleep."

He raised a perfect eyebrow as he sat down on their bed, looking up at her, their hands joined. "But?" He kissed her knuckles and urged her to sit beside him, giving her another one-armed hug.

Rose smiled against his neck, snuggling into his warmth, earning her a soft, knowing chuckle . "But, she's a mess. He asked her to marry him."

Scorpius' eyebrows shot up as he stared at the wall in front of him, trying to work out what she had just said. He shifted to look at her, a slight frown on his face. "He asked her to marry him, and now she's here, upset? What part am I missing here?"

She sighed as she crawled further on the bed, slipping under the covers and staring at the ceiling. "Silly girl said no and then realised she should have said yes."

"Convenient," she heard next to her, dryly, and he snorted. "Guy does what he should have done months ago and she turns him down. He left, I suppose?" He pressed a kiss to her forehead before laying down next to her, draping an arm over her stomach as she nodded slowly. "Is she going back tomorrow to tell him?"

"I don't know if he's going back to their flat," she whispered back, closing her eyes in exhaustion. "He might just go to Nana Molly's and Grandpa Arthur's and stay there for a few days. Louis' and James' party is coming up." She heard him murmur something as she drifted to sleep and with vague realisation noticed she had hummed in response. She knew he would tell her what exactly she had just agreed to in the morning she probably wouldn't like it.

"I suggest you get up and go see your brother now, darling," she heard a deep voice whisper in her ear laughingly. She groaned at the interruption of her comfortable sleep and swatted at something on her right, knowing she'd missed when her hand hit the soft pillow. Opening her eyes, she glared right into his laughing face, looming over her from beside the bed.

"Go away and let me sleep," she grumbled, pulling her pillow over her head.

"We have guests," he said simply, the sound slightly muffled, "which means you have to be up before them. And since you managed to catch the fish that rises before all others, you have to swim now."

"Scorpius, stop with those bleeding phrases and comparisons!" she moaned, sitting up and throwing her pillow at him. "They sound silly. Johanna isn't a fish and I do not swim, in case you forgot."

He rolled his eyes at her as he finished tying the laces of his last shoe, chucking the pillow back onto the bed. "Me? Forget something? Never, not happening."

Rose snorted, "Right."

~***~


"Rose, I swear to bloody Merlin, leave me alone!" Hugo growled, his eyes bloodshot, face pale and a nasty glare on his face. Obviously, her dear little brother had gotten thoroughly pissed last night and didn't appreciate to be woken at nine in the morning. Well, tough luck. She didn't like getting up at six either, but since his girlfriend was there, she had done so too.

"Don't be a baby, Hugo. If you don't want a hangover, don't drink. It's easy." She placed her hands on her hips, looking around the room. Their father's old room still had some resemblances as to how it must have been when he was younger. Posters of the Chudley Cannons were thrown in corners, instead of neatly on the walls, but they were obviously Ron Weasley's, she decided.

She sighed and sat down on the bed, ignoring her brother's objecting growls as she pushed his legs away to make space. "What are you doing here, Hugh? This isn't going to make it better." She tried not to glance at the empty Firewhiskey bottle next to the bed. Luckily it seemed to be the only one.

"And you know something that will, Miss Fix-it? I guess she's been to see you, hasn't she? Wondering why I didn't come home like a good little puppy after she just turned me down?" He looked ready to hex her off the bed, throwing her a nasty look as she just scooted up the bed further.

"Shut up, Hugo," she said simply. "You know it's not like that."

"Do I?" He sat up straight, looking more horrible than he did before with his hair sticking up and the nauseated look on his face. "What do you want me to say, Rose? I'm not wrong for being mad at her."

"You're not?" she asked, sceptical, raising an eyebrow at him.

He glared at her, pricking an accusing finger into her shoulder. "You were the one who got mad because Scorpius turned you down just so he could propose to you himself, while you knew he thinks the man should pop the question. Bloody hypocrite."

Rose momentarily glared at him and then, remembering she had decided not to get mad and be the responsible one, took a deep breath and shrugged. "It's a Weasley treat. You might have inherited it, too."

He growled dangerously and a voice in the back of her head told her that maybe she shouldn't push him too far. After all, he had Ron and Hermione Weasley's genes. They were both doomed with a horrible temper. So instead of trying to further persuade him, she stood up with a deep sigh, frowning as her brother immediately turned his back to her, sure he had won their argument, and lifted the covers over his head. She glared at the lump under the horrible orange material and crossed her arms. "Fine, be stubborn, you brat. Take a few days to calm down and expect me to take her with me to the party."

Her eyes shot fire as he kicked at her, missing her upper leg by mere inches and yelled at her to get lost. Before she could lose herself in her anger, she gripped her wand tightly in her hand and Apparated.

As she reappeared in her kitchen, she was immediately greeted with two curious, eager faces. Only one of them seemed a hundred per cent interested with what she had to say as the other held an obvious hint of sadness.

"So? What did he say?" Scorpius asked, getting up and handing his wife a cup of coffee. Rose took it with frown on her face, before plopping down on a chair, shrugging.

"He's a stubborn brat," she grumbled, "but I think he listened. I told him you would come with us to James and Louis' party." She directed this at Johanna, who was looking at her with puffy blue eyes. Her lower lip was trembling as she nodded, resisting the urge to tell her friend that there was no way she would come with them and she face Hugo again. "And don't you dare to try and get out of it!" Rose warned, a dangerous tone in her voice. "You two need to work it out. Tell him you're sorry and that you love him. He'll forgive you."

"And if he doesn't?" Hanna asked in a small voice, making both Scorpius and Rose look at her, surprised. They knew she had her insecurities and she had even confided in Rose that she thought Hugo could do better than her, but never had she questioned his ability to love and forgive her. After all, he had shown everyone that he was completely dedicated to her and that he wanted to share everything with her, including the rest of his life. Something like that didn't go away just like that, did it?

"He will," Rose answered, her voice strong and confident, though she had to admit that the refusal to his proposal must have been quite a blow to her brother's heart and ego if he went and slept in their father's old bed. She didn't doubt her brother's love for his girlfriend, but maybe this had been too much for him to forget. Rose didn't know and it truly frustrated her as she knew her brother couldn't find anyone that loved him like Johanna did if he decided not to forgive her.

"He loves you," Scorpius added, always keeping his head cool in emotional and painful situations. "It might take some apologising and persuading on your part, but he'll take you back, and I think he knows that too. Just give him some time." He sent her an encouraging smile and then turned to his wife, bending down to kiss her forehead. "I'm going to work. Should've been there about an hour ago, actually."

Rose's eyes widened and glanced at the clock. Nine thirty. "Why didn't you go?"

He shrugged, a crooked grin on his handsome features, and took out his wand. "My little wifey needed some support, didn't she?" Within a second, he was gone and Rose was left alone with Hanna. Her heart pounded in love for her husband, but realising she had a heartbroken friend sitting just across from her, she stood up.

"Cheer up," she said, a smile on her face, heading over to her yellow-haired friend, placing an arm around her shoulders as the other girl stood up. "Let's do a girl's day out. Get you pretty for the party and all that." A large smile graced Rose's face as she started thinking about manicures and facials and shopping for her cousins' birthday party. It wouldn't convince her brother to take his girlfriend back, but it couldn't hurt.

"Rose, I'm not sure I should –" Johanna started, but she was interrupted by a strict finger that was being pointed at her.

"No. Get pretty now, worry later. Or, preferably, not at all."

Johanna sighed as she let her friend lead her to the front door.

~***~


Hugo was nervous. He had spent days sulking around the Burrow, dreading the moment when he had to go to bed, knowing that when he woke up he would be a day closer to the party. Not that he hadn't been looking forward to it, James Potter was actually one of his favourite older cousins, but the moment Johanna had turned down his proposal everything had turned slightly dark. How everything could have seemed so perfect one day and then completely ruined after one single word was beyond him.

He had honestly thought she would say yes and that their perfect happily ever after, something everyone dreamed of, could finally start. The moment it had gotten through to him that she said no was like a bucket of ice water turned upside down over his head. It had frozen him to the core.

Then his sister had shown up that very next morning as his head pounded, his heart ached and his throat burned. He admitted later that day that his horrible behaviour towards her was partially to blame to the drinks he'd had the night before, but he was still annoyed with her interference and insistence on that Johanna had done nothing wrong. She had turned him down, for Merlin's sake, whether she regretted it, as his sister had insinuated, or not.

Now, people were continually pushing drinks into his hands, hugging him, shaking his hand and telling him what a great party it was. He would have agreed at any other time, because James Potter truly knew how to throw an interesting party, but at the moment he could only grunt and nod as people came up to him. The Burrow was crowded and, aside from the fact that he didn't like crowds to begin with, it didn't exactly help his search for his sister either.

She had told him she would bring Johanna with her, and he didn't know how he felt about that yet. On the one hand, he didn't really want to face her and talk about it as he honestly had no idea what she was going to say, nor had he any idea how he was going to react in return. On the other hand, the painful constriction around his heart was something he didn't want to live with any longer, and the only way to get rid off it was to talk to her. Talk to her, tell her he loved her and that everything was fine. He just didn't know if he could and if it truly would be fine, and the last thing he wanted to do was lie to her about it.

So he searched for them for about two hours, until he was finally ready to give up at around ten o'clock when someone tapped him on the shoulder. As he turned around, the first thing he saw was a mass of red hair and a flash of blond somewhere behind it. Rose and Scorpius.

Hugo stuck out his hand and shook Scorpius' in greeting, the blonde clapping his brother-in-law on the shoulder in compassion before respectfully retreating, saying he was going to get some drinks. Hugo was left with his sister who was looking up at him expectantly, her arms crossed, studying him carefully.
Afraid of who he would find if he looked around, he looked his sister up and down, realising she had gone through a lot of trouble for the night. She was wearing a new brown top, a denim skirt and her hair was in a neat bun at the back of her head. If he looked closer, he was sure he would see painted toenails in her low heels and she didn't usually wear make-up either.

He smiled apologetically. "You look nice. Sorry I was an idiot."

Rose smiled at him and leaned up to give him a hug. "Serves you right," she said, grinning. As she stood back down an uncomfortable silence fell between them as he tried to ask a question he had been dreading for the last couple of days. She just waited patiently, her face hiding her emotion the best she could, knowing he wanted an answer she wouldn't be able to give him, even though she had promised him.

"Is – I mean, did you..." He cursed under his breath and rubbed his temples, the headache that had haunted him for the last couple of days prominent again.

"She's not here. She left," she whispered sympathetically as she took a step closer to her brother for physical comfort. She watched his face carefully as he smiled sadly.

"Maybe that's for the best," he replied, the invisible strings around his heart tugging painfully. He realised he had wanted her to show up now he knew she wouldn't. It would have meant that she loved him as much as he loved her, and that they still had a chance. He wouldn't ask her to marry him again, and they would be happy together, no pressure of marriage. She hadn't turned up, however. He felt the air leave his lungs as the urge to throw up overpowered him, and he swallowed thickly, convincing himself to breathe in and out slowly through his nose.

Rose felt her tears threatening to make their presence known, and the last thing her brother needed was for her to break down when he was obviously doing his best to stay strong in front of everyone. Leaning up to kiss him on the cheek, she muttered something about finding Scorpius before turning on her heel and hurrying off. She had honestly tried to get Johanna to go with them, but she left and Rose had had no idea where she could be.

At first, she had tried to convince herself that wherever her friend had gone the night before the party, she would turn up again and she and her brother would patch things up. She had even decided to come two hours late so she could look for her before finding her brother, but Johanna hadn't been there.

Hugo ran his hands through his hair, taking deep breaths as he looked around the Weasley kitchen where he had ended up in his search for his sister. The table was filled with cakes, pies and all sorts of sweets and he heard loud laughing outside the door. People came and went, most of them friends of James and Louis who had greeted him heartily before but now hardly noticed him standing there, leaning against the counters. He would be horrible company, he knew, so he ignored everyone who entered the room.

The kitchen used to feel inviting to him, with the smell of Nana Molly's freshly baked bread and the large table that used to fit their entire family at Christmases, but right now it felt suffocating and he needed to get away, to breathe in fresh air and let out the emotions raging inside his chest. Nana Molly wouldn't appreciate him beating up her chairs or pans, but he was sure she wouldn't notice it if the bark of a tree in the garden was just slightly... hexed off, he reckoned.

He opened the back door leading to the garden and his eyes widened at what he found there. It was raining, heavily, as it had been doing every evening for about a week, but that wasn't what surprised him, nor the muddy ground he had just stepped into. No, it was what the rain and mud outside held that surprised him.

Just a few feet in front of him, on her knees in the mud, looking up at him with guilt and sadness in her eyes, was Johanna, her hair clinging in wet strings to her face and her clothes thoroughly drenched. He stared at her, feeling the rain pounding down on him, soaking his shirt and jeans, his shoes half-covered in the sludge he was standing in. His breathing stopped momentarily as he looked straight into her soft blue eyes and noticed the dark circles around them and the redness where her eyes were supposed to be white. He knew she must have heard his heart break at the sight of her. She looked exactly how he felt, completely and utterly horrible and it made his breath hitch. Her lower lip trembled as she sat still, still on her knees, looking up at him.

He didn't know how long they looked at each other, but when he noticed she started to shiver and tremble all over, it was like he was slapped and suddenly awakened. His body automatically went over to her and picked her up by her arms, placing her feet carefully on the ground in front of his. It was only then that he opened his mouth to speak, "You're frozen. You should get inside." As he moved to push her towards the door, she planted her heels firmly into the mud and shook her head.

The moment she opened her mouth and spoke, was a liberation to him. The ties and knots holding the ache in his chest together started to loosen as he looked at her pink lips, the only part of her not pale of the cold. They trembled as she struggled to get the words out, rain pattering down on the ground around them and he followed a droplet as it ran down her cheek, disappearing in her neck.

"I was watching you," she admitted softly, releasing his gaze to look at his chest in front of her, the wet shirt clinging to his body. "I know I shouldn't have, but I didn't have the... courage to come in and face you." She closed her eyes tightly and took a deep breath, ignoring the shivers of her body and instead focussing on the warmth coming from his, only a few inches in front of her. When she finally opened her eyes again, she saw him looking deeply into her eyes, searching for answers, reasons, all the things she hadn't given him yet. Showing up had been hard, it had taken all of her willpower to just Apparate to the steps in the Weasley's back garden, but then she had seen him standing there, against the kitchen counter, speaking to his sister, and the courage to open that door and letting him see her left her. Then he had decided to head her way and in her haste she had tripped over her own feet, ending up on her hands and knees in the mud.

She swallowed thickly as she felt new tears forming in her eyes, her heart pounding as wildly in her chest as the rain fell down on them. She slowly started to shake her head as she looked at him, apologies and explanations on the tip of her tongue. He was still waiting, looking right back at her, his warm, brown eyes dull, though she thought she had seen a spark the moment he had noticed her lying there, a spark that hadn't been there when he was inside.

She was going to say she was sorry, and that she understood if he didn't want her anymore, but that if, for some reason only Merlin would understand, he wanted her back, she wanted nothing more than to marry him. She was going to say that the biggest mistake she had ever made, was telling him no and that she had no idea why she had even done it. She was going to fall down on her knees in the mud again, begging him to forgive her for making such a foolish mistake and then she was going to let him decide what he wanted with his life, and who he wanted in it. She was going to do all of that, she had decided. There was nothing better to say.

"I'm sorry and I love you," she whispered instead. Somehow her subconscious had decided that that would have to do, because no matter how much she tried, no more words would form in her mouth.

He looked at her for a long moment, trailing his eyes over the contours of her face, his eyes once again resting on the dark circles around her eyes and the sadness in them, the tears she was holding back, the struggle behind them as she tried to say more. He noticed water was clinging to her eyelashes and then, suddenly, found himself shaking his head at her pain. He saw her heart breaking before his eyes.

"No," he said out loud, explaining himself further, willing her to understand even though he couldn't find the words. He didn't want her to hurt and he knew his gaze softened even further as he took a step towards, bringing her closer to him, and lifted his hand to her cheek. She closed her eyes briefly at his touch, thinking it was goodbye, leaning into the warmth of his flesh.

He swallowed heavily and leaned in, pressing his wet lips against hers. She reacted immediately, her pulse speeding up as she sought to take everything he was offering before she would never be offered it again. But he didn't pull back like she had expected him to, instead taking her in his arms like he had done a thousand times before.

That was the moment she realised that he wasn't saying goodbye, or letting her know what she would have to miss from then on. Instead, he was pouring everything he didn't dare to say out loud into that kiss. She knew that kiss, and she knew what he was asking her as he poured his heart and soul into it.

When he pulled back and leaned his forehead against hers, opening and closing his mouth in his effort to decide on what to say, she smiled up at him. "I want to marry you."



_________________
"Boo... Guess who?"


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