31 Days of October - Day 25: Breakfast in Bed (no challenge; fic)
Title: Once a Weasley
Summary: Hermione never could have imagined just how much a simple breakfast in bed could mean.
Characters/Pairings: Hermione, Fred; Hermione/Ron, Fred/Angelina
Genre: Mostly fluff
Beta: Yes
Rating/Warnings: PG
Medium: Ficlet
Word Count: 1,302
Can the Order post to Tumblr?: Sure
If yes, your Tumblr username: n/a
Knock, knock. “Hermione?” George’s soft tenor called out. Hermione groaned inwardly, poking ,her head out from beneath the hippogriff-feather duvet on Ron’s bed. The plain little square clock on the wall told Hermione it was 11am on October the 25th, making her about eight and a half months in to her pregnancy. If today was Sunday the 25th, her still sleep-addled brain provided, then Hermione’s due date was exactly thirty-seven days away, as of her last check-up. Ug, what did George want? Hermione had slept in a bit late but surely that wasn’t why George was waking her? He knew Ron had left late last night on a mission, so Hermione had been up talking with her husband most of the evening. He also knew how poorly she had been sleeping lately, and how ill she had been feeling after waking up. Plus, it took Hermione at least an hour to get dressed and presentable in the morning. Even if she had woken up an hour ago, she would probably just be mustering up the energy to drag herself downstairs into the shop and adjoining living spaces below Ron’s attic rooms.
Sighing, Hermione pushed herself up on her elbows, glaring daggers into the door. “Yes George, did you need something?”
George’s voice was slightly muffled through the thick wood of the main door to Ron’s attic but he still sounded a little quiet. In an offhanded manner, Hermione wondered how her brother-in-law was feeling today. He had never quite got over losing Fred, and the twinless twin definitely still struggled with depression and wanting to succumb to the longing ache left by losing his brother. Even on his good days, George was a more solemn shadow of his boisterous younger self. He was now a man of fewer words and fewer smiles, but he was still working on healing. Angelina helped drastically and Molly even called George’s fiancée a miracle worker, for it. George had taken huge strides since he had begun dating Angelina. She helped him maintain a positive outlook and was there even when he couldn’t. George was quiet, but he didn’t sound sad, so that was good. “I know how shit you’ve been feeling after waking up the last few weeks, and with Ron gone, I reckoned you might be a bit lonely the morning after his latest departure. I just wanted to do a little something nice for you, in my baby brother’s absence, that’s all. Can I come in?”
Sitting up fully at last, Hermione pulled down the oversized shirt of Ron’s she was wearing and made sure her pants-less lower half was completely covered by blankets. Biting down a wave of nausea at the new position, she took a moment to respond. “Sure George,” she finally called out. “Come on in, the door isn’t locked.”
When George opened the creaky old door, Hermione immediately burst into a fit of giggles. The man had a daisy behind his ear, a tray stacked high with an insane amount of food and drink, a heating pad, and a copy of The Daily Prophet. There looked to be some other things hiding on the bottom of the tray that Hermione couldn’t quite make out from across the room. He was seconds away from dropping the whole kit and caboodle, it was stacked so haphazardly.
“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” George greeted, gifting her with a now rarely seen trademark Weasley twin mischievous half smile-half smirk. Carefully bringing the tray and items to Hermione, he began telling her what was on the tray. “I’ve brought you some of your rose mint tea, since you said it settles your stomach. A heating pad for your lower back, because you’ve mentioned it’s been hurting in the mornings. Some toast with apple butter, so you can get something in your system. Today’s Prophet, so you can lounge in bed a bit longer, water, strawberries, and some of Harry’s chocolate gift basket from his last visit. And Pig, for when you’re ready to write Ron. You always send off a letter the first day after he’s left. Oh, and your book from the downstairs armchair in the library.” He paused, brow furrowing. “Think that’s everything.”
Hermione looked up at him, tears clearly wetting her eyes, as she reached for his quickly extended hand. “George, this is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. Thank you. I can’t believe you remembered all my pregnancy whinging.” George, in true Weasley fashion, used his free hand to rub at the back of his head. A self-conscious, “don’t be so intense” gesture. Ron did the exact same thing when he felt embarrassed or flustered by too much attention.
“It’s not a big deal. It was my pleasure, ‘Mione. I know you’ve been having a rough go of baby-housing lately and I can only imagine how hard it is on you having Ronniekins gone so often playing big bad auror with Harry. I get that Ron is taking an extended vacation after the baby is born but that can’t make right NOW much easier, right?” Hermione nodded mutely, clinging to George’s hand with both of hers and utterly speechless. George rubbed the nape of his neck again, still looking uncomfortable. “Right, so, um, I’ll just let you eat and relax, yeah? If you need anything, I’ll just be downstairs.” He turned to leave but Hermione didn’t release his hand. He looked back at her over his shoulder, his gaze a mix of concern and confusion.
“Would you mind terribly staying up here and keeping me company while I eat? I’d enjoy having someone to listen to. You can tell me about how Ginny is doing? I missed her last match against the Cannons.”
George turned, smiling softly down at her and gently laying his free hand on the top of her messy curls for a moment. It reminded her of how Bill would affectionately ruffle the hair of his younger siblings when they were making him feel brotherly. “Of course, Hermione. I’d be happy to sit up here with you for a bit.”
She couldn’t help it, Hermione really did start crying then. Few people were witness to the small gestures of kindness that the Weasleys did for each other, something Harry had latched onto from the first time he met them. Hermione couldn’t feel more proud to have married into their family. They all loved each other so effortlessly and so deeply, you couldn’t help but be moved sometimes; especially when you had a serious case of hormone-induced emotional outbursts. Hermione had developed quite the tendency, since getting pregnant, to randomly burst into tears at least once a week. The Weasleys brought it out in her though! They all checked in with her constantly, and reminded her repeatedly that every member in their family was there for her if she needed them. Bill popped into the ship a couple times a month, just to chat. Charlie sent her and Ron both weekly letters, touching base. Ginny floo-called multiple times a week. Molly and Arthur orchestrated bi-monthly family dinners, and gathered together as many of their brood as was possible. Even Fleur visited with Hermione at least once a month, despite the fact that they barely had anything to talk about. It was easy to get lonely, with Ron and Harry gone so often, Ginny in Quidditch training, and her parents still in Australia, but Hermione wasn’t alone. The Weasleys would always look after her. The sense of security and utter joy she experienced just from being in this family was pretty much the best feeling in the world. Sometimes it was hard to have so many people poking their noses and opinions into her life, but moments like this reminded Hermione why she would never change a thing.
Kelly // Gryffindor // 43+3= 46
Summary: Hermione never could have imagined just how much a simple breakfast in bed could mean.
Characters/Pairings: Hermione, Fred; Hermione/Ron, Fred/Angelina
Genre: Mostly fluff
Beta: Yes
Rating/Warnings: PG
Medium: Ficlet
Word Count: 1,302
Can the Order post to Tumblr?: Sure
If yes, your Tumblr username: n/a
Knock, knock. “Hermione?” George’s soft tenor called out. Hermione groaned inwardly, poking ,her head out from beneath the hippogriff-feather duvet on Ron’s bed. The plain little square clock on the wall told Hermione it was 11am on October the 25th, making her about eight and a half months in to her pregnancy. If today was Sunday the 25th, her still sleep-addled brain provided, then Hermione’s due date was exactly thirty-seven days away, as of her last check-up. Ug, what did George want? Hermione had slept in a bit late but surely that wasn’t why George was waking her? He knew Ron had left late last night on a mission, so Hermione had been up talking with her husband most of the evening. He also knew how poorly she had been sleeping lately, and how ill she had been feeling after waking up. Plus, it took Hermione at least an hour to get dressed and presentable in the morning. Even if she had woken up an hour ago, she would probably just be mustering up the energy to drag herself downstairs into the shop and adjoining living spaces below Ron’s attic rooms.
Sighing, Hermione pushed herself up on her elbows, glaring daggers into the door. “Yes George, did you need something?”
George’s voice was slightly muffled through the thick wood of the main door to Ron’s attic but he still sounded a little quiet. In an offhanded manner, Hermione wondered how her brother-in-law was feeling today. He had never quite got over losing Fred, and the twinless twin definitely still struggled with depression and wanting to succumb to the longing ache left by losing his brother. Even on his good days, George was a more solemn shadow of his boisterous younger self. He was now a man of fewer words and fewer smiles, but he was still working on healing. Angelina helped drastically and Molly even called George’s fiancée a miracle worker, for it. George had taken huge strides since he had begun dating Angelina. She helped him maintain a positive outlook and was there even when he couldn’t. George was quiet, but he didn’t sound sad, so that was good. “I know how shit you’ve been feeling after waking up the last few weeks, and with Ron gone, I reckoned you might be a bit lonely the morning after his latest departure. I just wanted to do a little something nice for you, in my baby brother’s absence, that’s all. Can I come in?”
Sitting up fully at last, Hermione pulled down the oversized shirt of Ron’s she was wearing and made sure her pants-less lower half was completely covered by blankets. Biting down a wave of nausea at the new position, she took a moment to respond. “Sure George,” she finally called out. “Come on in, the door isn’t locked.”
When George opened the creaky old door, Hermione immediately burst into a fit of giggles. The man had a daisy behind his ear, a tray stacked high with an insane amount of food and drink, a heating pad, and a copy of The Daily Prophet. There looked to be some other things hiding on the bottom of the tray that Hermione couldn’t quite make out from across the room. He was seconds away from dropping the whole kit and caboodle, it was stacked so haphazardly.
“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” George greeted, gifting her with a now rarely seen trademark Weasley twin mischievous half smile-half smirk. Carefully bringing the tray and items to Hermione, he began telling her what was on the tray. “I’ve brought you some of your rose mint tea, since you said it settles your stomach. A heating pad for your lower back, because you’ve mentioned it’s been hurting in the mornings. Some toast with apple butter, so you can get something in your system. Today’s Prophet, so you can lounge in bed a bit longer, water, strawberries, and some of Harry’s chocolate gift basket from his last visit. And Pig, for when you’re ready to write Ron. You always send off a letter the first day after he’s left. Oh, and your book from the downstairs armchair in the library.” He paused, brow furrowing. “Think that’s everything.”
Hermione looked up at him, tears clearly wetting her eyes, as she reached for his quickly extended hand. “George, this is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. Thank you. I can’t believe you remembered all my pregnancy whinging.” George, in true Weasley fashion, used his free hand to rub at the back of his head. A self-conscious, “don’t be so intense” gesture. Ron did the exact same thing when he felt embarrassed or flustered by too much attention.
“It’s not a big deal. It was my pleasure, ‘Mione. I know you’ve been having a rough go of baby-housing lately and I can only imagine how hard it is on you having Ronniekins gone so often playing big bad auror with Harry. I get that Ron is taking an extended vacation after the baby is born but that can’t make right NOW much easier, right?” Hermione nodded mutely, clinging to George’s hand with both of hers and utterly speechless. George rubbed the nape of his neck again, still looking uncomfortable. “Right, so, um, I’ll just let you eat and relax, yeah? If you need anything, I’ll just be downstairs.” He turned to leave but Hermione didn’t release his hand. He looked back at her over his shoulder, his gaze a mix of concern and confusion.
“Would you mind terribly staying up here and keeping me company while I eat? I’d enjoy having someone to listen to. You can tell me about how Ginny is doing? I missed her last match against the Cannons.”
George turned, smiling softly down at her and gently laying his free hand on the top of her messy curls for a moment. It reminded her of how Bill would affectionately ruffle the hair of his younger siblings when they were making him feel brotherly. “Of course, Hermione. I’d be happy to sit up here with you for a bit.”
She couldn’t help it, Hermione really did start crying then. Few people were witness to the small gestures of kindness that the Weasleys did for each other, something Harry had latched onto from the first time he met them. Hermione couldn’t feel more proud to have married into their family. They all loved each other so effortlessly and so deeply, you couldn’t help but be moved sometimes; especially when you had a serious case of hormone-induced emotional outbursts. Hermione had developed quite the tendency, since getting pregnant, to randomly burst into tears at least once a week. The Weasleys brought it out in her though! They all checked in with her constantly, and reminded her repeatedly that every member in their family was there for her if she needed them. Bill popped into the ship a couple times a month, just to chat. Charlie sent her and Ron both weekly letters, touching base. Ginny floo-called multiple times a week. Molly and Arthur orchestrated bi-monthly family dinners, and gathered together as many of their brood as was possible. Even Fleur visited with Hermione at least once a month, despite the fact that they barely had anything to talk about. It was easy to get lonely, with Ron and Harry gone so often, Ginny in Quidditch training, and her parents still in Australia, but Hermione wasn’t alone. The Weasleys would always look after her. The sense of security and utter joy she experienced just from being in this family was pretty much the best feeling in the world. Sometimes it was hard to have so many people poking their noses and opinions into her life, but moments like this reminded Hermione why she would never change a thing.
Kelly // Gryffindor // 43+3= 46