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Fred supposed that being half him and half Hermione, when they eventually had a child it would be both mischievous and hard headed. What he hadn’t expected was for it to be that way from the very beginning.
Hermione didn’t carry pregnancy well. Her face swelled and her feet swelled and no matter how carefully she watched what she ate, her rear end grew substantially with her belly. None of that mattered to Fred, other than he hated seeing her uncomfortable and hearing how she felt like she wasn’t in her own body anymore. What was more unpleasant for him was her constant mood swings. He understood, of course, and did everything he could to help her through the influx of hormones, but sometimes he felt as if he were Charlie, working with a temperamental and potentially deadly creature. Not that he ever said so much to Hermione. He didn’t fancy being hexed or being cast out of his bed. Amongst the unpleasantness, there was a wealth of joy. Seeing Hermione’s body grow to accommodate their child. Learning the doppler spell so that they could listen to the heartbeat. Feeling the active baby moving around beneath his wife’s skin. Hermione’s increased libido was also nothing to scoff at, even if he did make it into work late a few times despite living directly above the shop.
Their baby had a mind of its own and made its presence known almost immediately. It really shouldn’t have been surprising that it would make its way into the world the same way. Which ended up being on a busy Saturday afternoon. Fred was up to his ears in costumers bustling around the shops, trying to get in some shopping before the holidays. The night before Hermione had mentioned her lower back hurting, but after a long massage, a hot bath, and a round of lazy morning sex before he left for work, he thought everything was fine. They still had another two weeks before the due date. They hadn’t even taken the birthing pool out of its box yet. He didn’t expect any excitement in that department any time soon.
Only, the baby had different ideas. George was manning the register while Fred was adding some stock to the shelves when Hermione came charging down the stairs, yelling his name.
“It’s coming!” she cried, sweaty faced and crazy haired, nearly falling onto the counter next to George for support. Fred dropped the box he’d been holding, rushing to her side.
“Alright, love.” He kissed her forehead. “We’ll make our way upstairs and George here will send for the midwife and…”
“No, Fred!” Hermione gripped his arm so tightly it hurt. “It’s coming! Right now!”
And then she doubled over with a howl of pain and Fred stood stock still before frantically looking at his equally shocked brother. Luckily George got it together quickly and ushered everyone out of the shop with the promise of a hefty discount on their next visit. Fred snapped out of it when Hermione started tugging her pyjama pants off and quickly whipped his robes off, gave them a steri-charm, and then laid them down on the shop floor for her to lay on. George sent his Patronus off to the mid wife before floo-calling Molly from the shop hearth. Not that any of it mattered. By the time Molly burst in through the fireplace and the midwife apparated to the front doors, Hermione had already delivered a screaming baby that Fred held in shaking hands while laughing and blinking away tears.
They named her Emmeline Jane, after a rather famous British feminist that lead the suffragette movement and Hermione’s mother. She was certainly opinionated, even from a young age, with a head fully of wild ginger curls and Fred’s laughing brown eyes. At birth she managed to wrap her daddy around her finger, and Hermione just smiled and laughed when he complained at how easily he’d been had.
Hermione said she wanted to wait until Emmie was five before trying for another. Fred didn’t mind. He was more than happy with his two strong willed women that completely ran his life and treated him like he’d hung the moon. Yet, it was two years later when Hermione told him the news, tears in her eyes and the worry that her body just wasn’t ready to go through it all again. Fred had listened, had kissed away her tears, reminded her that she was the strongest witch and woman he’d ever met, and that no matter what he would always love her.
The second pregnancy was far and away from the first. Hermione simply glowed. Her belly protruded from her small frame like an adorable melon and she was always full of energy and laughter and joy. Unlike Emmie, this one also waited until exactly their due date to make their arrival. This time Hermione got to put to use the birthing pool and Fred was able to support her easily since there was a midwife present to deliver the baby.
They named him Arthur Jackson, after both of their fathers. He came silently into the world, with nothing more than a soft cry and wide eyes that seemed to already be taking in his surroundings. Unlike his sister, he was nearly bald except or a soft fuzz of red that covered his scalp.
Emmie fell in love with AJ at their first meeting, and ever since then had become a little mother hen. She often tried to convince Fred and Hermione to sleep in in the mornings and that she could care for AJ until they woke up. Although the idea of sleeping in sounded wonderful after so many years of early hours, Hermione explained to both Fred and Emmie that a three year old wasn’t quite ready to handle a one and a half month old.
This morning seemed like a gift as Fred woke up to the muted sunlight being dampened by heavy winter clouds and a completely silent flat. For now, AJ was sleeping in a cot in their room with plans of expanding the flat to have a third bedroom soon. Fred sat up in bed, peaking at the bundled-up baby sleeping soundly with his perfect pink lips parted just slightly. Smiling, he looked over at his wife who was equally asleep. Unable to resist, Fred scooted across the bed and started kissing down her throat, nibbling along her collarbone until she stirred awake. They’d been given leave just the week before by the midwife to resume any sexual activity, and although they had snuck in a few moments here and there since then, they hadn’t been able to fully enjoy the other.
“Are the children awake?” Hermione mumbled without opening her eyes, a small smile on her lips as she stretched her neck to the side to allow him more room.
“No.” he whispered, nudging the comforter down further to expose Hermione’s breasts covered in a soft cotton nursing bra. He kissed along the swell of it and Hermione shifted further, lifting a leg to hook over his hips. His boxers were already growing uncomfortably tight around his quickly swelling erection and with Hermione only wearing another pair of his boxers, there wasn’t enough fabric between them to hide the heat coming off her.
The need to be quiet conflicted with his desire to groan loudly when she rocked her hips into his, both of their breathing starting to increase as desire heightened between them. Bypassing her breasts with nothing more than just soft kisses to the outside of the bra, knowing they were sensitive and at times uncomfortable with AJ’s milk, he pressed kisses to her belly while he slipped a hand beneath the band of her boxers. Just as his fingers skimmed over the hair that led to her sweet heat, their bedroom door opened and Emmeline bounded in like she owned the place. Fred quickly removed his hand, sat up and placed a pillow on his lap while Hermione laughed an exasperated sound and lifted herself to sitting as well.
“Daddy.” Emmeline came round to his side of the bed. “It’s Sunday.”
“That’s true, darling.” Fred agreed, knowing what this was leading to.
“Yes.” She nodded, curls bouncing. “My bueberry wapples, pease.”
Fred laughing softly at her toddler lisp and shook his head. For the last two years they had a Sunday morning date of making blueberry waffles together. After making sure he was well enough to get out of bed without scarring his daughter, Fred scooped her up in his arms and made for the door, but stopped before going into the hall and turned back to Hermione.
“Go back to sleep, love.” He whispered. “Little man is giving you a bit of a break.”
Hermione smiled and started to shimmy down in the bed so Fred tugged the door shut and carried Emmeline into the kitchen. The little girl preferred to make them by hand the muggle way instead of with magic, so there was a bit of a mess when they were finished. Promising he’d pick it up later, he made Emmie her plate of waffles with blueberries and a dollop of whip cream, then went to work on a steaming cup of coffee for Hermione. When it was done, he carried it silently into the bedroom, only to find Hermione sitting up in bed, reading a book while holding a content AJ to her breast. Even from the distance, Fred could hear the little boys sucking noises and couldn’t help but smile. Moving to sit on the bed next to them, he kissed Hermione’s cheek, AJ’s head, and then handed off the coffee.
“Thank you.” She sighed happily, taking a deep drink after sitting her book to the side. “How’s Emmeline?”
“Stuffing her face.” Fred laughed. “But there’s plenty for my first girl.”
“Hm.” She hummed happily. “Give us a moment, and we’ll be out.”
“Take your time.” Fred dropped a kiss to her lips. “Us and your breakfast will be waiting.”
Hermione smiled and nodded and Fred jumped off the bed, grabbing a jumper from the laundry basket before heading back out into the living room where Emmie was sitting at the coffee table while watching her morning cartoons. After making himself a plate and Hermione one, he joined his daughter on the floor and settled into one of his favourite episodes.
Life, he thought, was pretty damn great.