Childminding 3/3
Title: Childminding, Pansy Style
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Ron/Pansy, Draco/Ginny, Elyse
Word count: 3060
Rating: PG
Warnings: None. Well, copious amounts of fluff. Fluffy fluffiness with some fluff on top.
Author's Notes: heyurs requested a drabble forever and a day ago, and I'd forgotten about it, until she requested this one... And the next one! And before I knew it, she'd created a series. Sneaky Ursula, getting your way like that and I didn't even realize. And then goeungurl jumped on the bandwagon. This story has groupies! Anyhow, this fulfills both their requests for R/P fluffiness on my Christmas Drabble Meme. Hope you enjoy, girls!
Pansy was acting oddly.
And that was saying something, Ron thought, completely bewildered by her behavior of the past few weeks. She'd been sleeping at odd hours of the day, she hadn't been playing with the puppies as much, calling them, 'smelly,' and even insisted Ron shower before getting near her after having gone for a run with them. Before, when they'd first started seeing one another, she'd not cared if he'd been rolling around in the dirt, covered in sweat. She'd taken him in whatever state, wherever she pleased and then they'd showered together afterward. When he asked, Pansy had protested that she wasn't ill.
"Parkinsons don't get ill," she'd told him. "It simply isn't done."
The entire situation had Ron completely at his wit's end, She rarely felt amorous and never felt like talking. Though he'd thought they'd grown close during the time he'd lived at Beaumaris with her, he now felt as if his time at the estate was about to reach its end.
Leaving her, leaving what had become his home with her, caused pain that Ron didn't even know he was capable of feeling; it was actual, physical pain, a tightening in his chest and an overall queasy feeling that didn't ever fully go away.
The thing was, he really loved Pansy. She projected a hard image to the world, to the public at large, but Ron found that she had a rather soft center, one that he'd been privy to more than a few times. She'd been tender with him and gentle, and even loving. True, she'd not said the three little words that he had to admit he wanted to hear. When he'd bared his soul and told her exactly how he felt about her, she hadn't said a word, but she held his face in her hands and gave him a look he'd never seen from her, or anyone else before. Then, slowly, meticulously, she'd kissed him until he was begging, made love to him until he was exhausted and slept beside him until the both awoke, limbs entwined and with him assured that she did feel the same, that they were in this together, forever, as far as he was concerned.
Now, though, it was all different.
After the fourth time she'd snapped at him that day, Ron decided to simply give up. She'd gone in the bathroom and ran a bath, and it was in the tub that she found her looking at him as he packed up his razor and toothbrush.
"Going somewhere?" she asked, one eyebrow arched. Her voice sounded uncharacteristically relaxed compared to the strained tone she'd normally taken with him, and he decided that it was for the best, perhaps this way there wouldn't be a scene. He would slip out as he slipped in, and in time, he wouldn't feel an ache where her presence had been.
"Yeah," he said, turning toward her and leaning against the countertop. "It's time, don't you think?"
"Time for what?" she asked, closing her eyes and sinking more deeply into the bubbles.
"Time for me to go, Pansy."
"Go where?" she asked, irritation tinging her voice.
"To go," he said simply. "You don't want me here anymore. You know it, and I definitely know it, and it's just easier this way than if we let it all go to hell and don't even like each other by the end."
Her eyes opened wide, and she stared at him, as if she were waiting for a punch line, or for the other shoe to drop. When it was apparent that Ron wasn't going to say more, her face hardened into the mask that she presented to the world, and she stayed silent for several moments.
Ron thought that was it. She didn't have anything to say in reply. It shouldn't have surprised him, but it did. He shook his head in disappointment as he pushed off from the spot in which he'd been leaning. As he reached the door, he heard her say, "Elyse is coming today."
Elyse. His niece. He'd promised Ginny and her wanker of a husband that they'd keep their baby while they went out to do God knew what. He didn't really want to know. But now, it proved inconvenient. "I can watch her. I'll take her to the park or somewhere, or to Mum's house. You don't have to be bothered by her."
"She isn't a bother, Ronald."
"But I am, is that it?" he asked, starting to get a bit irritated, himself.
"I never said that," she said evenly.
"You didn't have to," he replied bitterly.
"Do you even hear yourself?" she asked, running a sponge along the toned lines of her arm until it disappeared under the bubbles. "You sound like a spoilt child."
"I hardly think you're the one to be calling me spoiled, Pansy," Ron snapped.
She finished washing and stood, some of the bubbles still clinging to her naked, wet skin. She held out her hand expectantly, and Ron shook his head, not believing that he was actually still in the room with her. He let his gaze travel along the curves he'd come to know so well and against his will, his body responded as he handed her a towel.
She had a resigned expression on her face, one that he didn't remember seeing before, and it was then he noticed she looked absolutely exhausted.
"Are you alright?" he asked.
She nodded, stepping carefully out of the tub and onto the fluffy rug on the floor. "Just tired."
"If you're tired, I can take Elyse and go somewhere," he persisted.
"To your house?" she asked lightly, wrapping the towel around her.
"Maybe," he answered.
"So you've kept your house?"
Ron frowned. "Yeah. Does it matter?"
She shook her head, and shrugged noncommittally as a response. Pansy was still standing on the rug, merely looking at him, not moving to get dressed or attending to her lengthy toillette. She looked small, standing there, unsure somehow, and Ron felt an unease creep in.
"Pansy," he began, his voice gentler than it had been. "What's wrong?"
She swallowed thickly and tucked the towel more tightly around her. "Nothing," she replied, but her voice broke as she said it. Taking a deep breath, she repeated, "Nothing. Except that you're apparently leaving me."
Ron was lost, now. He'd no idea where to take the conversation, and he'd never seen her like this. "You don't want me to go?" he asked.
"I don't want you to stay if you don't want to be here," she hedged, her eyes darting to the side.
Ron sighed, approaching her cautiously. She didn't look angry, but he'd been around long enough to see her temper change like the weather. "Pans, I love you. I don't want to leave. This is my home," he said incredulously. "And not because of the house, it's because of you."
She waited for what seemed an eternity and when she finally leaned into him, he wrapped her in his arms. Ron kissed the top of her head, and when she looked up at him, it looked as if she were about to explain why she'd been acting so erratic. Before she could say anything, the doorbell chimed.
"Elyse," Pansy said. "Want to take care of a baby, today?"
Ron gave her a half smile. "Not especially. We've got some things to work out, don't you think?"
"We can't turn them away, now, though," Pansy said. "Draco'd be insufferable. He's had this planned for ages."
"One of these days," Ron began, "I'd like for someone to change what they wanted because of me.
"Would you really?" Pansy asked, going into her dressing area. "I'll see what I can do. But right now could you go and greet them? I'll be down in a moment."
"Yeah," he said, relieved he wasn't going to have to explain to Draco and Ginny why he was taking their daughter somewhere else because he'd left Pansy.
"Ron?" she asked. stepping out of her closet with a dress still on its hanger.
"Yes?"
"You aren't leaving, are you?"
"No."
She nodded approvingly and went back into her closet. Ron merely shook his head. Maybe he'd gone mad and all of everything was only in his imagination. He hurried downstairs and found the Malfoy family in the parlour, Draco drumming his fingers on the arm of the sofa, Ginny standing by the window looking at their view and Elyse doing somersaults on the rug.
"About bloody time," Draco groused, standing.
"Draco," Ginny admonished. "Hi, Ron. Ready for today?"
Ron didn't think it'd be a good idea to tell his sister that he'd completely forgotten about his niece's visit, so he did the only thing he could. he lied. "Erm, sure," he said, ruffling Elyse's hair as she came to stand next to him. We're going to go for a walk in the gardens, maybe a swim in the pond, or maybe Pansy'll let you ride her horse."
"Auntie Pansy!" Elyse squealed, running over to greet the woman who had walked into the room. "I missed you!"
"I missed you, darling," Pansy murmured, and knelt down to talk to the child. "I thought we'd try our hand at baking biscuits this afternoon," she said gently. "Bernard's in the kitchen already. Why don't you go find him and choose what sort we'll make?"
That was all the prompting the little blonde girl needed, and she skipped off, comfortable as she was in her own home. Pansy watched her go and then stood, greeting Elyse's parents.
"Draco, darling," she said, kissing the air to the side of his cheeks. "How are you? Ginevra," she added. "Hello."
"Hi, Pans," Draco said, looking at her curiously. "What's new?"
Pansy quirked a brow. "Since when have you cared about what's new in my life?"
"Since always," Draco protested.
"Liar," Pansy answered without malice. "Don't you have somewhere you need to be?"
"Yeah," he agreed, the leaned down and murmured something to Ginny. Her eyes widened and she looked at Pansy and then Ron, a grin blossoming on her face.
"What the devil is going on with you two?" Ron asked. "Usually, you shove your kid at us and hit the floo so fast you spray ash all over the room. "
"Ron, we do not," Ginny protested, then, lay a hand on his arm. "Are you taking care of everything?" she asked pointedly.
Ron looked at her, confused. "Erm, some of it, but Pans has elves, you know, and they're dead useful."
"That's not what I meant, you thickhead," Ginny said, thumping him soundly.
"Don't you think you should take your wife where ever it is that you're going before you're late?" Pansy interrupted. "Or before you descend into a full brawl in the middle of the rug?"
"Yes," Draco said. "We'll be back late to get Elyse. Then we'll talk."
"Or you could both come to tea, tomorrow," Ginny suggested hopefully.
Pansy looked from the couple standing by the floo to her boyfriend and accepted with a nod. "Alright. We can be there around five?"
"Perfect," Ginny replied, beaming.
They left in a swirl of blond hair and red curls, leaving Pansy uncharacteristically ruffled and Ron confused. "What the hell was all that about?"
Pansy shrugged. "Kitchen. Bernard can't keep control like we can."
Ron nodded. Pansy was right, there was no telling what mischief the little girl could get into with only the elf for supervision.
When they arrived in the kitchen, they found Elyse and Bernard mixing the batter. Ron smiled at the picture, but when he looked at Pansy, she was pulling a face.
"What's wrong?"
Her hand moved to cover her mouth and nose involuntarily, and she left the room in a flash.
"Where did Auntie Pansy go?" Elyse asked sweetly.
"No idea," Ron answered, still bewildered by his girlfriend's behavior.
"Is she ill?"
"Parkinsons don't get ill," Ron responded automatically.
Elyse wrinkled her little nose. "She looked ill to me."
Ron looked toward the door and had to agree with the girl. Pansy might maintain that Parkinsons didn't get colds, but something was wrong, and he felt like he was the last one to know what it was.
It was much later, after an afternoon with the little girl, that he found his girlfriend slumped in the floor of the bath, uncharacteristically dishevelled.
"Pans," he said, his alarm growing. This isn't right. You obviously don't feel well. You're ill and you need to go to the healer."
"I'm not ill," she protested automatically. "Parkinsons-"
"Do, and are," Ron finished dryly, kneeling down in front of her.
Pansy turned her head. "Don't. You don't want to see me like this."
"Pansy," Ron said, growing frustrated. "This is what I'm talking about. You have to let me help you. You don't have to be made of iron all the time."
"Obviously I'm not," Pansy retorted weakly. "I can't even handle a child."
"Elyse practically takes care of herself," Ron said. "And I'm here. We were fine this afternoon."
"Yes," Pansy answered.
"Yeah," Ron affirmed.
She raised a hand, performed a mouth freshening charm, and he helped her to her feet, letting his arms encircle her naturally. "Do this for me, Pans," he implored her. "Please."
"I'm sort of already in the middle of the last thing I was doing for you," she responded, resting her cheek against his chest.
"Upending your lunch into the loo?" Ron asked. "I never wanted you to do that."
"Yes, well. Should have thought about that before you got me pregnant."
There was a profound silence, and Pansy went completely still, listening only to the hammering of Ron's heart. A myriad of questions went through her mind, but she kept silent, wondering if he was upset, or scared, or wanted her to make it all go away.
"You're pregnant." It was a breathless statement, as if he were waiting for the confirmation for something he already knew.
"I am." Pansy looked up at him. "We've never discussed children. Not ones that belong to us."
"No," he agreed. "We haven't."
Tiny lines pulled between her brows. "I'm not necessarily thrilled about this, either, Ronald," she said, pulling away from him, her voice hitching. "I've been sick more than I ever have in my life, I look like hammered hell and I'm going to...to... get fat," she nearly wailed, a sob choking in her throat.
"Pregnant is not fat," Ron corrected.
"Yes, well, six of one..." Pansy replied. "I'll be a big as a house. Unless of course-" She looked up at him, her eyes glassy with tears. "I haven't asked you what you want to do about it."
"What I want to do?" Ron asked, incredulously. "What I want to do? I want to marry you and have a baby. And then seven more. It's what I've wanted for the last year, at least." With trepidation, he asked, "Pansy? What do you want?"
"Less than seven children," she said swallowing. "But the rest of it sounds-"
"Wait," Ron said, and left her quickly to walk into their closet. "This isn't how it should be."
Pansy sank onto the bed and muttered. "Well, I know that, but it's a little late to do anything about it, now."
Before she could actually respond to her, he was back in the room and kneeling before her, holding out a blood red, velvet box with a fairly sizable ring inside.
Pansy was momentarily rendered speechless, something that Ron had never before witnessed. He smiled up at her. "Be my wife," he said quietly. "I mean, please will you marry me? Er, I mean - Shit." The words came in a rush, and Pansy blinked as he kept talking. "I had a whole speech and now I can't remember it. I'm sorry. But I love you, and I've had this ring forever, and I've just been waiting for the right moment. This is it. It's now. Our moment." He put a tentative hand on her stomach and said, "We can be a family. The three of us."
Taking the ring out of the box, he apologized, "I know it isn't what you might've picked out for yourself, if you'd had it to do for yourself, but I did like this one, and I made payments until it was mine - yours, I mean. It's yours." He slid the ring on her finger and then realized she still hadn't said anything. "Will you wear it? I mean, keep it? Keep me?"
Pansy held up her hand and looked at the ring. She'd had every intention of refusing this impromptu proposal. She'd actually thought that he'd be upset about a baby, and had briefly considered ways that she could end the pregnancy, but even Pansy Parkinson couldn't be so heartless, especially with the son or daughter of the man kneeling before her. Simply put, she loved him. Which meant that she was more concerned with his feelings than with her own, a completely foreign concept to Pansy. It was the reason that she'd been so distant, not wanting to rock the boat, to upset him.
"Pansy," Ron repeated. "You're killing me, here. Would you please say something?"
"Yes," she said, with a mixture of relief and pleasure and even happiness. "I will wear it and keep it and keep you, too."
Ron picked her up and spun her around, before putting her down gently. "We're going to be happy. I'm going to make you happy, Pans. You'll see."
She nodded and smiled and then said, "Do you know what would make me extremely happy?"
"Anything."
"If we don't have to go to your sister's for lunch tomorrow."
"Done," he said promptly. "But we need to tell them about the baby," he said, relenting a little.
"Oh, darling, rest assured that the entire world knows by now," Pansy said. "Draco figured it out this morning, and Ginny's had all day to gossip."
Ron chuckled and shrugged. "Saves us floo time, right?"
"It does," Pansy agreed. "And gives us more time to be together."
"Together?" Ron grinned. "You mean together together?"
Pansy smiled saucily and nodded. "I do."
Ron swept her off her feet and carried her into the bedroom. "I can't wait."
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Ron/Pansy, Draco/Ginny, Elyse
Word count: 3060
Rating: PG
Warnings: None. Well, copious amounts of fluff. Fluffy fluffiness with some fluff on top.
Author's Notes: heyurs requested a drabble forever and a day ago, and I'd forgotten about it, until she requested this one... And the next one! And before I knew it, she'd created a series. Sneaky Ursula, getting your way like that and I didn't even realize. And then goeungurl jumped on the bandwagon. This story has groupies! Anyhow, this fulfills both their requests for R/P fluffiness on my Christmas Drabble Meme. Hope you enjoy, girls!
Pansy was acting oddly.
And that was saying something, Ron thought, completely bewildered by her behavior of the past few weeks. She'd been sleeping at odd hours of the day, she hadn't been playing with the puppies as much, calling them, 'smelly,' and even insisted Ron shower before getting near her after having gone for a run with them. Before, when they'd first started seeing one another, she'd not cared if he'd been rolling around in the dirt, covered in sweat. She'd taken him in whatever state, wherever she pleased and then they'd showered together afterward. When he asked, Pansy had protested that she wasn't ill.
"Parkinsons don't get ill," she'd told him. "It simply isn't done."
The entire situation had Ron completely at his wit's end, She rarely felt amorous and never felt like talking. Though he'd thought they'd grown close during the time he'd lived at Beaumaris with her, he now felt as if his time at the estate was about to reach its end.
Leaving her, leaving what had become his home with her, caused pain that Ron didn't even know he was capable of feeling; it was actual, physical pain, a tightening in his chest and an overall queasy feeling that didn't ever fully go away.
The thing was, he really loved Pansy. She projected a hard image to the world, to the public at large, but Ron found that she had a rather soft center, one that he'd been privy to more than a few times. She'd been tender with him and gentle, and even loving. True, she'd not said the three little words that he had to admit he wanted to hear. When he'd bared his soul and told her exactly how he felt about her, she hadn't said a word, but she held his face in her hands and gave him a look he'd never seen from her, or anyone else before. Then, slowly, meticulously, she'd kissed him until he was begging, made love to him until he was exhausted and slept beside him until the both awoke, limbs entwined and with him assured that she did feel the same, that they were in this together, forever, as far as he was concerned.
Now, though, it was all different.
After the fourth time she'd snapped at him that day, Ron decided to simply give up. She'd gone in the bathroom and ran a bath, and it was in the tub that she found her looking at him as he packed up his razor and toothbrush.
"Going somewhere?" she asked, one eyebrow arched. Her voice sounded uncharacteristically relaxed compared to the strained tone she'd normally taken with him, and he decided that it was for the best, perhaps this way there wouldn't be a scene. He would slip out as he slipped in, and in time, he wouldn't feel an ache where her presence had been.
"Yeah," he said, turning toward her and leaning against the countertop. "It's time, don't you think?"
"Time for what?" she asked, closing her eyes and sinking more deeply into the bubbles.
"Time for me to go, Pansy."
"Go where?" she asked, irritation tinging her voice.
"To go," he said simply. "You don't want me here anymore. You know it, and I definitely know it, and it's just easier this way than if we let it all go to hell and don't even like each other by the end."
Her eyes opened wide, and she stared at him, as if she were waiting for a punch line, or for the other shoe to drop. When it was apparent that Ron wasn't going to say more, her face hardened into the mask that she presented to the world, and she stayed silent for several moments.
Ron thought that was it. She didn't have anything to say in reply. It shouldn't have surprised him, but it did. He shook his head in disappointment as he pushed off from the spot in which he'd been leaning. As he reached the door, he heard her say, "Elyse is coming today."
Elyse. His niece. He'd promised Ginny and her wanker of a husband that they'd keep their baby while they went out to do God knew what. He didn't really want to know. But now, it proved inconvenient. "I can watch her. I'll take her to the park or somewhere, or to Mum's house. You don't have to be bothered by her."
"She isn't a bother, Ronald."
"But I am, is that it?" he asked, starting to get a bit irritated, himself.
"I never said that," she said evenly.
"You didn't have to," he replied bitterly.
"Do you even hear yourself?" she asked, running a sponge along the toned lines of her arm until it disappeared under the bubbles. "You sound like a spoilt child."
"I hardly think you're the one to be calling me spoiled, Pansy," Ron snapped.
She finished washing and stood, some of the bubbles still clinging to her naked, wet skin. She held out her hand expectantly, and Ron shook his head, not believing that he was actually still in the room with her. He let his gaze travel along the curves he'd come to know so well and against his will, his body responded as he handed her a towel.
She had a resigned expression on her face, one that he didn't remember seeing before, and it was then he noticed she looked absolutely exhausted.
"Are you alright?" he asked.
She nodded, stepping carefully out of the tub and onto the fluffy rug on the floor. "Just tired."
"If you're tired, I can take Elyse and go somewhere," he persisted.
"To your house?" she asked lightly, wrapping the towel around her.
"Maybe," he answered.
"So you've kept your house?"
Ron frowned. "Yeah. Does it matter?"
She shook her head, and shrugged noncommittally as a response. Pansy was still standing on the rug, merely looking at him, not moving to get dressed or attending to her lengthy toillette. She looked small, standing there, unsure somehow, and Ron felt an unease creep in.
"Pansy," he began, his voice gentler than it had been. "What's wrong?"
She swallowed thickly and tucked the towel more tightly around her. "Nothing," she replied, but her voice broke as she said it. Taking a deep breath, she repeated, "Nothing. Except that you're apparently leaving me."
Ron was lost, now. He'd no idea where to take the conversation, and he'd never seen her like this. "You don't want me to go?" he asked.
"I don't want you to stay if you don't want to be here," she hedged, her eyes darting to the side.
Ron sighed, approaching her cautiously. She didn't look angry, but he'd been around long enough to see her temper change like the weather. "Pans, I love you. I don't want to leave. This is my home," he said incredulously. "And not because of the house, it's because of you."
She waited for what seemed an eternity and when she finally leaned into him, he wrapped her in his arms. Ron kissed the top of her head, and when she looked up at him, it looked as if she were about to explain why she'd been acting so erratic. Before she could say anything, the doorbell chimed.
"Elyse," Pansy said. "Want to take care of a baby, today?"
Ron gave her a half smile. "Not especially. We've got some things to work out, don't you think?"
"We can't turn them away, now, though," Pansy said. "Draco'd be insufferable. He's had this planned for ages."
"One of these days," Ron began, "I'd like for someone to change what they wanted because of me.
"Would you really?" Pansy asked, going into her dressing area. "I'll see what I can do. But right now could you go and greet them? I'll be down in a moment."
"Yeah," he said, relieved he wasn't going to have to explain to Draco and Ginny why he was taking their daughter somewhere else because he'd left Pansy.
"Ron?" she asked. stepping out of her closet with a dress still on its hanger.
"Yes?"
"You aren't leaving, are you?"
"No."
She nodded approvingly and went back into her closet. Ron merely shook his head. Maybe he'd gone mad and all of everything was only in his imagination. He hurried downstairs and found the Malfoy family in the parlour, Draco drumming his fingers on the arm of the sofa, Ginny standing by the window looking at their view and Elyse doing somersaults on the rug.
"About bloody time," Draco groused, standing.
"Draco," Ginny admonished. "Hi, Ron. Ready for today?"
Ron didn't think it'd be a good idea to tell his sister that he'd completely forgotten about his niece's visit, so he did the only thing he could. he lied. "Erm, sure," he said, ruffling Elyse's hair as she came to stand next to him. We're going to go for a walk in the gardens, maybe a swim in the pond, or maybe Pansy'll let you ride her horse."
"Auntie Pansy!" Elyse squealed, running over to greet the woman who had walked into the room. "I missed you!"
"I missed you, darling," Pansy murmured, and knelt down to talk to the child. "I thought we'd try our hand at baking biscuits this afternoon," she said gently. "Bernard's in the kitchen already. Why don't you go find him and choose what sort we'll make?"
That was all the prompting the little blonde girl needed, and she skipped off, comfortable as she was in her own home. Pansy watched her go and then stood, greeting Elyse's parents.
"Draco, darling," she said, kissing the air to the side of his cheeks. "How are you? Ginevra," she added. "Hello."
"Hi, Pans," Draco said, looking at her curiously. "What's new?"
Pansy quirked a brow. "Since when have you cared about what's new in my life?"
"Since always," Draco protested.
"Liar," Pansy answered without malice. "Don't you have somewhere you need to be?"
"Yeah," he agreed, the leaned down and murmured something to Ginny. Her eyes widened and she looked at Pansy and then Ron, a grin blossoming on her face.
"What the devil is going on with you two?" Ron asked. "Usually, you shove your kid at us and hit the floo so fast you spray ash all over the room. "
"Ron, we do not," Ginny protested, then, lay a hand on his arm. "Are you taking care of everything?" she asked pointedly.
Ron looked at her, confused. "Erm, some of it, but Pans has elves, you know, and they're dead useful."
"That's not what I meant, you thickhead," Ginny said, thumping him soundly.
"Don't you think you should take your wife where ever it is that you're going before you're late?" Pansy interrupted. "Or before you descend into a full brawl in the middle of the rug?"
"Yes," Draco said. "We'll be back late to get Elyse. Then we'll talk."
"Or you could both come to tea, tomorrow," Ginny suggested hopefully.
Pansy looked from the couple standing by the floo to her boyfriend and accepted with a nod. "Alright. We can be there around five?"
"Perfect," Ginny replied, beaming.
They left in a swirl of blond hair and red curls, leaving Pansy uncharacteristically ruffled and Ron confused. "What the hell was all that about?"
Pansy shrugged. "Kitchen. Bernard can't keep control like we can."
Ron nodded. Pansy was right, there was no telling what mischief the little girl could get into with only the elf for supervision.
When they arrived in the kitchen, they found Elyse and Bernard mixing the batter. Ron smiled at the picture, but when he looked at Pansy, she was pulling a face.
"What's wrong?"
Her hand moved to cover her mouth and nose involuntarily, and she left the room in a flash.
"Where did Auntie Pansy go?" Elyse asked sweetly.
"No idea," Ron answered, still bewildered by his girlfriend's behavior.
"Is she ill?"
"Parkinsons don't get ill," Ron responded automatically.
Elyse wrinkled her little nose. "She looked ill to me."
Ron looked toward the door and had to agree with the girl. Pansy might maintain that Parkinsons didn't get colds, but something was wrong, and he felt like he was the last one to know what it was.
It was much later, after an afternoon with the little girl, that he found his girlfriend slumped in the floor of the bath, uncharacteristically dishevelled.
"Pans," he said, his alarm growing. This isn't right. You obviously don't feel well. You're ill and you need to go to the healer."
"I'm not ill," she protested automatically. "Parkinsons-"
"Do, and are," Ron finished dryly, kneeling down in front of her.
Pansy turned her head. "Don't. You don't want to see me like this."
"Pansy," Ron said, growing frustrated. "This is what I'm talking about. You have to let me help you. You don't have to be made of iron all the time."
"Obviously I'm not," Pansy retorted weakly. "I can't even handle a child."
"Elyse practically takes care of herself," Ron said. "And I'm here. We were fine this afternoon."
"Yes," Pansy answered.
"Yeah," Ron affirmed.
She raised a hand, performed a mouth freshening charm, and he helped her to her feet, letting his arms encircle her naturally. "Do this for me, Pans," he implored her. "Please."
"I'm sort of already in the middle of the last thing I was doing for you," she responded, resting her cheek against his chest.
"Upending your lunch into the loo?" Ron asked. "I never wanted you to do that."
"Yes, well. Should have thought about that before you got me pregnant."
There was a profound silence, and Pansy went completely still, listening only to the hammering of Ron's heart. A myriad of questions went through her mind, but she kept silent, wondering if he was upset, or scared, or wanted her to make it all go away.
"You're pregnant." It was a breathless statement, as if he were waiting for the confirmation for something he already knew.
"I am." Pansy looked up at him. "We've never discussed children. Not ones that belong to us."
"No," he agreed. "We haven't."
Tiny lines pulled between her brows. "I'm not necessarily thrilled about this, either, Ronald," she said, pulling away from him, her voice hitching. "I've been sick more than I ever have in my life, I look like hammered hell and I'm going to...to... get fat," she nearly wailed, a sob choking in her throat.
"Pregnant is not fat," Ron corrected.
"Yes, well, six of one..." Pansy replied. "I'll be a big as a house. Unless of course-" She looked up at him, her eyes glassy with tears. "I haven't asked you what you want to do about it."
"What I want to do?" Ron asked, incredulously. "What I want to do? I want to marry you and have a baby. And then seven more. It's what I've wanted for the last year, at least." With trepidation, he asked, "Pansy? What do you want?"
"Less than seven children," she said swallowing. "But the rest of it sounds-"
"Wait," Ron said, and left her quickly to walk into their closet. "This isn't how it should be."
Pansy sank onto the bed and muttered. "Well, I know that, but it's a little late to do anything about it, now."
Before she could actually respond to her, he was back in the room and kneeling before her, holding out a blood red, velvet box with a fairly sizable ring inside.
Pansy was momentarily rendered speechless, something that Ron had never before witnessed. He smiled up at her. "Be my wife," he said quietly. "I mean, please will you marry me? Er, I mean - Shit." The words came in a rush, and Pansy blinked as he kept talking. "I had a whole speech and now I can't remember it. I'm sorry. But I love you, and I've had this ring forever, and I've just been waiting for the right moment. This is it. It's now. Our moment." He put a tentative hand on her stomach and said, "We can be a family. The three of us."
Taking the ring out of the box, he apologized, "I know it isn't what you might've picked out for yourself, if you'd had it to do for yourself, but I did like this one, and I made payments until it was mine - yours, I mean. It's yours." He slid the ring on her finger and then realized she still hadn't said anything. "Will you wear it? I mean, keep it? Keep me?"
Pansy held up her hand and looked at the ring. She'd had every intention of refusing this impromptu proposal. She'd actually thought that he'd be upset about a baby, and had briefly considered ways that she could end the pregnancy, but even Pansy Parkinson couldn't be so heartless, especially with the son or daughter of the man kneeling before her. Simply put, she loved him. Which meant that she was more concerned with his feelings than with her own, a completely foreign concept to Pansy. It was the reason that she'd been so distant, not wanting to rock the boat, to upset him.
"Pansy," Ron repeated. "You're killing me, here. Would you please say something?"
"Yes," she said, with a mixture of relief and pleasure and even happiness. "I will wear it and keep it and keep you, too."
Ron picked her up and spun her around, before putting her down gently. "We're going to be happy. I'm going to make you happy, Pans. You'll see."
She nodded and smiled and then said, "Do you know what would make me extremely happy?"
"Anything."
"If we don't have to go to your sister's for lunch tomorrow."
"Done," he said promptly. "But we need to tell them about the baby," he said, relenting a little.
"Oh, darling, rest assured that the entire world knows by now," Pansy said. "Draco figured it out this morning, and Ginny's had all day to gossip."
Ron chuckled and shrugged. "Saves us floo time, right?"
"It does," Pansy agreed. "And gives us more time to be together."
"Together?" Ron grinned. "You mean together together?"
Pansy smiled saucily and nodded. "I do."
Ron swept her off her feet and carried her into the bedroom. "I can't wait."