cleverness: (earshot)
In the weeks leading up to her due date, Hermione had done everything in her power to prepare for every possible turn of events for the baby's birth. She had mapped out at least a dozen ways for her to get to the hospital from every one of the few locations that she had been frequenting lately, and she made sure not to expose Ron to more than one or two contingency plans, not wanting to overwhelm him with too many details. She had read up on the various options for birth, on the benefits and drawbacks of using an epidural, on the wide range of labor times experienced by most women in modern day. Short of selecting everyone on the staff who would help her deliver the baby, Hermione had thought of it all.

And yet, never had she really anticipated that her baby would be punctual. The due date was only a rough estimate, she knew, based on imperfect information about her cycles and potential moment of conception. And she'd certainly heard enough horror stories from the women who frequented the Limelight about how they'd delivered several weeks early, or even several days late, with plenty of false labors in between.

So when Hermione woke up in the mirror of the night, drenched in sweat and muscles contracting, she almost assumed that it was a false alarm. Everything had been too calm. Too quiet. It couldn't happen all of a sudden.

Then she realized her sheets were sodden, and with a soft gasp, she reached over to the side and gently shook Ron's shoulder.

"Ronald," she whispered urgently, trying to push herself up into a sitting position as one hand quickly dropped to her belly, stretching protectively over the curve. "Ron, my water broke."
cleverness: (sunshine)
If Hermione were to try and describe the developments in her life brought on by pregnancy, more than anything, she would single out a certain tenderness that seemed to permeate her entire life. Even before the onset of physical changes, she would wake up with a different level of awareness, hand brushing subconsciously over her stomach as she went about her day, protecting the gift and journey that she and Ron were embarking on together. It was a shift that her customers noticed in the shop, many turning around with remedies for the symptoms of pregnancy — something to help with the nausea, something for the aches and soreness. She didn't question how they knew, instead comforted by the change in the smile she saw in the mirror, as well as the gentle brush of Ron's touch as he spent more time by her side.

Parenthood would suit them, Hermione thought.

With the impending birth also came a renewed desire for the both of them to enjoy what time they had left together as a couple. Any opportunity for an extra hour or two off was quickly taken up by the pair, enjoying one another's company around the house, out on the town, or as they did today, on a stroll through the park. Hermione kept her neck warmly wrapped in a scarf, her breath occasionally fogging in the air against the chilly wind. One hand slipped inside Ron's pocket, where their fingers laced easily as they made their way down the path, through the crisp scent of impending winter.

"Should we sit for a while? Have some tea?" Hermione asked, glancing over her shoulder to see if there was anyone in the vicinity before surreptitiously tapping the flask she'd brought for the occasion with her wand, heating the contents inside.
cleverness: (study)
There were few moments in Hermione's life as focused as that moment. Living in the countryside, it wasn't rare for the Nook to be surrounded with the sounds of nature, of birds chirping in the branches of trees and breezes rushing merrily through the tall grasses. If one listened closely, they could often make out the sound of deer hooves against the beaten paths. But none of them registered with Hermione right then, from where she sat at the foot of her bed, hands curled on her lap. Instead, there was a dull pattern that rang against her ears; it took several moments before she realized that it was the pounding of her heart, steady and strong inside her chest.

It was her birthday. Since her birthday fell on a weekday that year, she had insisted to Ron that both of them still go to work for the day, especially considering how they would have the rest of the weekend to celebrate if they wanted, but she had still closed shop a little early in order to get home and prepare herself for dinner that evening. Her mind had been scattered for the entire week, and a vague sense of fatigue lingered that she imagined was a result of her long nights spent poring over notes, and her plans for opening a school in Darrow to serve the much needed gap of instructing those with paranormal interests or abilities. Returning to academia had never been in her plans back home, because the need was elsewhere, in providing the underprivileged with equal rights and protections. In Darrow, the situation was different.

Hermione wanted to work where she was needed most.

But as she picked out her dress for the evening and checked to make sure their reservations were still held by the restaurant, Hermione had felt a wave of dizziness and nausea. And while there was a good chance that stress was responsible for all of it, the feeling had been persistent over the past few days. She'd made an appointment with the clinic to make sure she wasn't suffering from some contagious illness.

She had returned home, instead, with a store-bought test and a faint suggestion to check. Just in case.

The first few seconds after Hermione spotted the second line were numbing. She didn't know how to react; didn't know how to respond. Shock kept her rooted in place, even as her stomach fluttered with dawning realization, and the ground seemed to shift underneath her feet. Having children with Ron had always been part of a distant plan, a detail included when Hermione spoke of her future, five or ten years down the road. But no matter how many times she'd fantasized about that ideal future, it had always remained exactly that, an idea more than a frequent consideration, not to be further explored until the time was right.

Knowing changed everything. Only when Hermione's hand shifted away from the test hastily bought at the store, coming to a rest instead on her own stomach, did it start to sink in. She noticed her vision blurring before she realized that the tears had already started to fall down her cheeks, and it took a few minutes before she was able to calm herself. Happiness, she thought. The sheer force of the incomparable joy she felt pushed out every other emotion, until it was practically overflowing. She didn't know how to process it. All she knew was that she needed Ron home right then so that she could share with him the news.

They were about to start a family.

Not wanting to alarm Ron at the station, Hermione gradually began picking her things up, carefully checking her reflection in the mirror to make sure her eyes weren't red, that she wouldn't give Ron any reason to panic when he Apparated back home. There was nothing to worry about, after all. This was always the life they were meant to have.
cleverness: (laughter)
As the sun began to deep from its early afternoon high, birds chirped as they flew through the woods, lingering around the Nook and watching curiously as people gathered from around the city. Flowers bloomed from the branches, uncharacteristically bright and large for the season, aided by a touch of magic. Not far from the house, a small babbling brook snaked through the fields, giving pets and wildlife alike the chance to run around and splash in a bit of water. The wedding decor had been designed to blend into the countryside, tables held up by tree trunks, and shade overhead provided by the stretch of vines and blossoms. The scent in the air was subtle and sweet, light floral mingling with the smell of baked goods wafting from the buffet table. At the end of the table stood a large cake, with white frosting and decorated with orange blossoms and clementines. If one looked closely enough, they would notice that one of the fruits was different than the rest, painted a subtle gold, and occasionally flying around the cake with a rapid beating of delicate wings.

The wedding was a small and intimate affair, meant to be more of a celebration than a formal occasion, and guests mingled with wine and cheer before the time came for the ceremony to begin.


Ron had felt as if he was going to lose his breakfast for most of the day. The truth was, he'd barely eaten at all that morning, anxious about the late afternoon ceremony. In some ways, it reminded him of ages ago, of his first Quidditch match as Keeper back at Hogwarts, his stomach was in knots, he felt peaky, and without realizing it that morning, he'd been so distracted by his own thoughts that he'd idly managed to cast a spell that left a small raincloud lingering over his head for nearly an hour before he managed to rid himself of it.

He knew that he was mental for it, for being worried about any of this. He and Hermione had been together ages now. They loved each other, and this was the next thing. There was no doubt in his mind that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with that bloody amazing woman, but there was still the slightest bit of worry that she'd think better of it— of him— and tell him to sod off. He hadn't had thoughts like that, when it came to Hermione, in ages, but somehow it'd all come flooding back in the hours before the wedding.

Even standing there, waiting for her to walk down the aisle, he tried to push those thoughts away, tried not to look too nervous, like his stomach didn't feel like a crumpled bit of parchment. At least, if it all went sour, he only really knew a handful of people who'd turned up today. And Charlie wasn't George or Ginny, so he wouldn't give him too hard a time about it.

But the thing Ron didn't expect, standing there feeling like he might pass out, what he hadn't prepared himself for, was how she looked when he finally saw her. Because once he finally saw Hermione in her dress, walking toward him, this bloody amazing woman who'd chosen him when she could have had anyone, all the worry melted away. The parchment uncrumpled itself, and he was left grinning so hard he couldn't imagine ever being this happy again in his life.


All throughout the morning, Hermione's heart fluttered in her chest. Even as she listened to the guests mingling in the distance, there was something about the day that didn't feel quite real, even as she worked on zipping her dress and arranging her hair just so. While she had asked a guest or two for help on occasion, Hermione spent most of the morning preparing on her own, letting the enormity of everything that had led her and Ron to this point sink in. She had known, practically since their first year at Hogwarts, that Ron was a person whom Hermione would spend the rest of her years standing alongside. But the depth of what they felt for one another, the deepening of those emotions as they bloomed into something deeper and intangible, was something she never could have anticipated all of those years ago.

Now, she couldn't imagine wanting a single day away from him. As Hermione gazed in the mirror, she noticed how it softened her appearance. Her cheeks, dusted pink even without the help of blush. Quietly, she stole a moment to peek through the window, where Ron and Charlie were speaking in the distance. Everything about the day felt right. Everything was coming together, the final missing pieces of the puzzle.

By the time she made her way to the aisle, Hermione was already beaming, fingers trembling as they held onto her bouquet. Petals of light pink and orange lined the path she took, guests turned their heads to rest upon the bride, and sweet woodwind music played in the distance — but in the moment, Hermione only had eyes for Ron. As she came to a stop across from him, she reached a hand out to lace with his own, and silently murmured, I love you.


Ron had spent hours the day before trying to put the right words together, even though he knew that he was rubbish at that sort of thing. Reports, papers… mostly he just tried to get out of doing them, but this wasn't something Ron wanted to skive off. It was more important than almost anything.

In the end, he'd come up with something, and he'd written it out on a bit of parchment that he'd folded up and put in the pocket of his jacket, but he'd begun to think he wouldn't need it after all.

"Hermione, you've been my best friend, my teacher, my soul mate. You've managed to put up with me for over a decade now, and if you were going to think better of it, I s'pose you would've done it by now. Sometimes— right now, especially— I can't believe I've gotten this lucky. I love you, Hermione. You've been making me a better person since we first met, all those years ago as kids. And I promise that— that I'll keep working at it for as long as we're together, which is the rest of our lives, I hope. I promise we'll keep learning from each other, and that I'll always be there.

"A long time ago, I got lost, and it took a little ball of light to bring me back to you, to bring me home again. But I promise to never leave again. You're my home now, and you always will be."


As Hermione listened to Ron speak, she felt her chest grow tight and her eyes mist over, but she did her best to take the whole moment in, committing every detail to memory. The bright blue of Ron's eyes, as clear as the sky above. The way his hair caught the sunlight. The gentle brush of the wind as he spoke, grass waving merrily in the distance. She ducked her head for only a moment, smiling to herself, knowing that she could never forget the way that her heart felt right then, full to burst.

"As a child, I had always been somewhat of a precocious little thing. I knew how to consume books as though I was breathing air, and I kept my nose buried in them, day after day, like they were my entire world. But from the moment that you entered my life, Ron, you showed me that there was so much more to the world than what I could learn in the shelves of a library. You taught me the value of friendship, you showed me what true bravery meant. And what you taught me, above all else, is about love. What it's like to grow together, and what it's like to feel as though there's another person in the world who completes you. Who makes your world whole. Who shows you, every day, how life can be lived to its fullest.

"You say that you feel like you're lucky, but I feel like I've been the fortunate one to have found my soulmate so early in life. And I can't wait to spend the rest of that life with you."

Trembling hands relaxed as Hermione watched Ron slide the ring onto her finger, and she glanced up with a soft laugh. His warm arms wrapped around her, and Hermione pushed herself onto her toes, hand curling against his chest as she pressed her lips to his.


[ gathering for ronmione wedding! let us know if you're requesting ron, hermione, or both! tag in and be merry. ♥ ]
cleverness: (unease)
Maybe Rapture was a mistake.

Hermione Granger was a girl who often looked back on the past for any number of reasons. Although the saying was certainly trite and quite possibly overused, there was truth in the claim that history always repeated itself. While humans had made impossible amounts of progress in the past couple of millennia, human nature sometimes seemed incapable of changing much at all. And it was that same nature of Hermione's own that had her reflecting upon the foolishness of heading down the Rapture. That had her realizing, more than ever, how much more helpless all of them were, not only in deciding where they walked or where they stayed on the island, but even defending one another against threats that wouldn't have been much at all, just months ago. With Rapture still teeming with activity, Hermione practically swearing that she could feel it rumbling still beneath her feet, her heart raced as she and Ron stepped back inside their hut. Her hand tightly gripped his own.

"Harry?" she called out as soon as they entered, never letting go of Ron's grip as the pad of her thumb ran lightly against his hand. After a couple seconds of silence, she turned to Ron with an anxious look, brow furrowed as she leaned in to rest her forehead against his shoulder, feeling her hair drip water down the small of her back. "He hasn't returned yet. Merlin, what if something happens to him?"