Fic: Bunny Ears
Title: Bunny Ears
Pairing: Harry/Hermione, with Draco/Ginny on the side
Rating: G
Summary: Harry and Hermione celebrate Easter at the Burrow with their newborn.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Notes: Not beta'd, so if you spot a mistake please feel free to point it out.
The sun had only begun to kiss the horizon when the cries of a tiny boy shattered the peace of a home hidden far from prying eyes in a little village named Ottery St. Catchpole. Harry Potter woke immediately and groped for his glasses, neatly folded on his bedside table as they were every night, and then pushed them onto his nose as he clambered out of bed.
Next to him, a bushy-haired, brown-eyed woman raised herself up on one elbow and yawned sleepily. “Is it time to get up already?” Hermione murmured, rubbing her eyes.
“I’ll get him.” Harry leaned over and pressed a kiss to her warm cheek, then shuffled off to the adjoining room they’d converted to a nursery; with no door, it was close enough to their bedroom so they would be able to hear their baby, but still gave them a room of their own.
Harry found his son lying on his back, his blanket kicked away and two little fists pumping the air furiously as he cried. “Good morning, little man,” Harry said as he carefully lifted the baby out of his cot. “Happy Easter.” He placed soft kisses on a tiny cheek and the baby quieted momentarily.
By the time Harry got back to his bed, Hermione was already propped up against pillows and ready to feed their baby. Harry handed him over carefully, and then positioned himself next to his wife as Iain Sirius Potter fed. Hermione hummed softly, stroking Iain’s head with her fingertip as he suckled. Harry watched them both, occasionally touching his son, and then found himself lulled back to slumber. Closing his eyes, he let himself drift off...
... until a swift elbow to the side had him wide awake again. “You going to burp him?” Hermione asked as she adjusted her nightgown. Harry took the baby automatically as Hermione threw a flannel over his shoulder, then lifted Iain up and rubbed his back in circles until the boy graced them with an enormous burp.
“Well done, young man,” Harry said as Hermione took him again. Once the three week old was done feeding, he fell asleep on his father’s shoulder. He slept long enough for his parents to shower, get dressed, and have a light breakfast as they prepared for their outing. They would be joining the extended Weasley family at the Burrow for one of Molly’s usual feasts to celebrate the holiday. As this was Iain’s first Easter, Harry’s desire to be with the people he called his family was stronger than normal.
They gave Iain a bath, then Hermione dressed him while Harry gathered all the eggs they’d bought from Honeydukes into a large wicker basket topped with coloured ribbons. Placing it by the door, he put on the papoose he would carry his son in and waited... and waited. Then waited some more.
“Hermione!” he called out. “What on earth are you doing?”
“Be there in a minute!” she called out, her voice muffled. Harry had developed a great deal of patience since being married to her; he’d known her long enough to know she wouldn’t be rushed. Finally they appeared, Iain wrapped in a light blanket.
“We’re here, Daddy.” Hermione carefully lifted Iain up into the papoose and made sure he was safe and snug before placing a kiss on his forehead. The little boy had dozed back off to sleep, but that wasn’t what caught Harry’s attention. It was the tiny hat on his head with two strangely shaped things sticking out of the top that he was staring at.
“Hermione, what are those things?”
His wife frowned. “They’re bunny ears! Can’t you tell?”
Harry looked closer and realised that they were indeed rabbit ears. They were much smaller, though, no longer than ten centimetres each. He touched one and found they were extremely soft.
“They’re very cute,” he decided. Hermione beamed at him and picked up the basket he’d left by the door, and with their hands entwined, the Potter family set out for the Burrow.
~*~
The celebrations were in full swing by the time they got there, even though they only lived a twenty-minute walk from the elder Weasleys. Well over a dozen children, mostly redheads, were scattered around the garden. The adults had taken seats as the long table set up in the middle, chatting and snacking on the finger food Molly had put out. Harry and Hermione greeted their hosts with kisses and hugs, gave Arthur their basket of goodies, and then made a beeline for Ron when they spotted him standing in one corner of the yard. They waved hello to various Weasleys and their spouses as they passed, and found Ron entertaining his four-year-old daughter, Cara.
“Uncle Harry!” Cara threw herself at Harry, but Ron managed to swing her up into his arms before she knocked Harry and the baby over.
“Cara, come say hi to Iain.” The little redhead peered into the papoose and reached out a tentative hand, stroking his blanket gently.
“Hi, Iain,” she cooed at the baby, who still had his eyes closed. She then pursed her lips at Harry, who leaned over carefully to kiss her, and after giving Aunt Hermione a kiss Cara demanded to be put down so she could join in the fun with the rest of the Weasley grandchildren.
Once she’d disappeared into a sea of redheads, Ron kissed Hermione’s cheek and peered at his godson.
“What the hell is that on his head?”
Harry fought the bubble of laughter that immediately rose in his throat, knowing that laughing at this moment would be instantly punishable. Hermione sniffed. “They’re bunny ears! What else would they be, Ron?” Her tone was one that Harry and Ron had been subjected to all too often; Ron was smart enough to know he had to tread very carefully or find himself looking at the tip of her wand.
He reached a finger out to touch them and forced a smile onto his face. He didn’t think they were instantly recognisable as bunny ears - they were too small, for starters - but he certainly wasn’t about to say so. “They’re very cute,” he said. “Did you make them yourself?”
Hermione sniffed again. “Of course I did. Without magic, I might add.”
Ron nodded and carefully lifted Iain out of the papoose for a cuddle. “Hi there, mate,” he said, pressing a kiss to the baby’s warm cheek. Iain stirred in his arms and opened his eyes briefly, raising a tiny hand up in the air. Harry took his hand and kissed it.
“So here’s the Potterlet,” a voice drawled from behind Ron, causing Iain’s godfather to stiffen. Even though Draco Malfoy had become an unexpected ally in the war against Voldemort, and had been instrumental in the Dark Lord’s defeat, none of the trio had ever been able to bring themselves to call him a friend. They were civil to him out of respect for Ginny, who had, in Ron’s opinion, gone completely mental the moment she’d started dating Malfoy. Seven years and almost three children later (Ginny was due to give birth to the couple’s third child in two months), it was clear Malfoy wasn’t going anywhere, but none of them could bring himself to completely trust the man.
“Happy Easter, Draco,” Hermione said, trying to alleviate the obvious tension between them all. She always made an effort to be nice to him, but often found herself caught in the middle, especially between Malfoy and her husband.
Grey eyes focused on her for a moment. “And to you, Granger,” he said, refusing to call her by her first or married name. “You’re looking well.” Hermione could tell by his tone and the look on his face that he meant it, so she thanked him and managed a smile. “How’s the Potterlet doing?”
Hermione thought the nickname Malfoy had bestowed on her son was adorable, but that was a thought she kept to herself. “He’s doing just fine. He’ll be four weeks on Tuesday.”
Draco looked at the baby nestled in Ron’s arms and gave him a rare, genuine smile. “He’s a cute boy. Good thing he inherited his mother’s looks.” It was so easy to bait Potter, Draco thought with a smirk.
Harry’s hands balled up into fists, fists that he dearly wanted to smash into Malfoy’s face. But now was not the time or place, and they were no longer fifteen years old. “Did you want something, Malfoy?”
“I just wanted to see the baby. That’s allowed, isn’t it?”
It was on the tip of Harry’s tongue to say no, but Hermione took the opportunity to slip her hand into his and squeeze, and as always, her touch soothed him.
“Right,” Ron said, not bothering to keep the hostility out of his tone. “You’ve seen the baby, now pi--”
“What the hell is that on his head?” Draco leaned closer, clearly mystified. In spite of their intense dislike of the blonde man, Harry and Ron found it difficult not to grin at him. Draco looked up for an answer, but the murderous look on Hermione’s face sent him scurrying away quickly. “I need a drink,” he said, disappearing before Hermione could say a word.
“Well done, Hermione,” Ron said, delighted. “You sent him running without a word!”
“They’re bunny ears! Why is that not plainly obvious? What else would he be wearing at Easter?”
“I think they’re absolutely adorable, Hermione.” Molly Weasley had a knack of appearing at precisely the right moment, especially when it came to situations involving her reluctant son-in-law. She was carrying a small tray in front of her, the contents obviously just fresh out of the oven. “Hot cross bun, anyone?”
Pairing: Harry/Hermione, with Draco/Ginny on the side
Rating: G
Summary: Harry and Hermione celebrate Easter at the Burrow with their newborn.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Notes: Not beta'd, so if you spot a mistake please feel free to point it out.
The sun had only begun to kiss the horizon when the cries of a tiny boy shattered the peace of a home hidden far from prying eyes in a little village named Ottery St. Catchpole. Harry Potter woke immediately and groped for his glasses, neatly folded on his bedside table as they were every night, and then pushed them onto his nose as he clambered out of bed.
Next to him, a bushy-haired, brown-eyed woman raised herself up on one elbow and yawned sleepily. “Is it time to get up already?” Hermione murmured, rubbing her eyes.
“I’ll get him.” Harry leaned over and pressed a kiss to her warm cheek, then shuffled off to the adjoining room they’d converted to a nursery; with no door, it was close enough to their bedroom so they would be able to hear their baby, but still gave them a room of their own.
Harry found his son lying on his back, his blanket kicked away and two little fists pumping the air furiously as he cried. “Good morning, little man,” Harry said as he carefully lifted the baby out of his cot. “Happy Easter.” He placed soft kisses on a tiny cheek and the baby quieted momentarily.
By the time Harry got back to his bed, Hermione was already propped up against pillows and ready to feed their baby. Harry handed him over carefully, and then positioned himself next to his wife as Iain Sirius Potter fed. Hermione hummed softly, stroking Iain’s head with her fingertip as he suckled. Harry watched them both, occasionally touching his son, and then found himself lulled back to slumber. Closing his eyes, he let himself drift off...
... until a swift elbow to the side had him wide awake again. “You going to burp him?” Hermione asked as she adjusted her nightgown. Harry took the baby automatically as Hermione threw a flannel over his shoulder, then lifted Iain up and rubbed his back in circles until the boy graced them with an enormous burp.
“Well done, young man,” Harry said as Hermione took him again. Once the three week old was done feeding, he fell asleep on his father’s shoulder. He slept long enough for his parents to shower, get dressed, and have a light breakfast as they prepared for their outing. They would be joining the extended Weasley family at the Burrow for one of Molly’s usual feasts to celebrate the holiday. As this was Iain’s first Easter, Harry’s desire to be with the people he called his family was stronger than normal.
They gave Iain a bath, then Hermione dressed him while Harry gathered all the eggs they’d bought from Honeydukes into a large wicker basket topped with coloured ribbons. Placing it by the door, he put on the papoose he would carry his son in and waited... and waited. Then waited some more.
“Hermione!” he called out. “What on earth are you doing?”
“Be there in a minute!” she called out, her voice muffled. Harry had developed a great deal of patience since being married to her; he’d known her long enough to know she wouldn’t be rushed. Finally they appeared, Iain wrapped in a light blanket.
“We’re here, Daddy.” Hermione carefully lifted Iain up into the papoose and made sure he was safe and snug before placing a kiss on his forehead. The little boy had dozed back off to sleep, but that wasn’t what caught Harry’s attention. It was the tiny hat on his head with two strangely shaped things sticking out of the top that he was staring at.
“Hermione, what are those things?”
His wife frowned. “They’re bunny ears! Can’t you tell?”
Harry looked closer and realised that they were indeed rabbit ears. They were much smaller, though, no longer than ten centimetres each. He touched one and found they were extremely soft.
“They’re very cute,” he decided. Hermione beamed at him and picked up the basket he’d left by the door, and with their hands entwined, the Potter family set out for the Burrow.
~*~
The celebrations were in full swing by the time they got there, even though they only lived a twenty-minute walk from the elder Weasleys. Well over a dozen children, mostly redheads, were scattered around the garden. The adults had taken seats as the long table set up in the middle, chatting and snacking on the finger food Molly had put out. Harry and Hermione greeted their hosts with kisses and hugs, gave Arthur their basket of goodies, and then made a beeline for Ron when they spotted him standing in one corner of the yard. They waved hello to various Weasleys and their spouses as they passed, and found Ron entertaining his four-year-old daughter, Cara.
“Uncle Harry!” Cara threw herself at Harry, but Ron managed to swing her up into his arms before she knocked Harry and the baby over.
“Cara, come say hi to Iain.” The little redhead peered into the papoose and reached out a tentative hand, stroking his blanket gently.
“Hi, Iain,” she cooed at the baby, who still had his eyes closed. She then pursed her lips at Harry, who leaned over carefully to kiss her, and after giving Aunt Hermione a kiss Cara demanded to be put down so she could join in the fun with the rest of the Weasley grandchildren.
Once she’d disappeared into a sea of redheads, Ron kissed Hermione’s cheek and peered at his godson.
“What the hell is that on his head?”
Harry fought the bubble of laughter that immediately rose in his throat, knowing that laughing at this moment would be instantly punishable. Hermione sniffed. “They’re bunny ears! What else would they be, Ron?” Her tone was one that Harry and Ron had been subjected to all too often; Ron was smart enough to know he had to tread very carefully or find himself looking at the tip of her wand.
He reached a finger out to touch them and forced a smile onto his face. He didn’t think they were instantly recognisable as bunny ears - they were too small, for starters - but he certainly wasn’t about to say so. “They’re very cute,” he said. “Did you make them yourself?”
Hermione sniffed again. “Of course I did. Without magic, I might add.”
Ron nodded and carefully lifted Iain out of the papoose for a cuddle. “Hi there, mate,” he said, pressing a kiss to the baby’s warm cheek. Iain stirred in his arms and opened his eyes briefly, raising a tiny hand up in the air. Harry took his hand and kissed it.
“So here’s the Potterlet,” a voice drawled from behind Ron, causing Iain’s godfather to stiffen. Even though Draco Malfoy had become an unexpected ally in the war against Voldemort, and had been instrumental in the Dark Lord’s defeat, none of the trio had ever been able to bring themselves to call him a friend. They were civil to him out of respect for Ginny, who had, in Ron’s opinion, gone completely mental the moment she’d started dating Malfoy. Seven years and almost three children later (Ginny was due to give birth to the couple’s third child in two months), it was clear Malfoy wasn’t going anywhere, but none of them could bring himself to completely trust the man.
“Happy Easter, Draco,” Hermione said, trying to alleviate the obvious tension between them all. She always made an effort to be nice to him, but often found herself caught in the middle, especially between Malfoy and her husband.
Grey eyes focused on her for a moment. “And to you, Granger,” he said, refusing to call her by her first or married name. “You’re looking well.” Hermione could tell by his tone and the look on his face that he meant it, so she thanked him and managed a smile. “How’s the Potterlet doing?”
Hermione thought the nickname Malfoy had bestowed on her son was adorable, but that was a thought she kept to herself. “He’s doing just fine. He’ll be four weeks on Tuesday.”
Draco looked at the baby nestled in Ron’s arms and gave him a rare, genuine smile. “He’s a cute boy. Good thing he inherited his mother’s looks.” It was so easy to bait Potter, Draco thought with a smirk.
Harry’s hands balled up into fists, fists that he dearly wanted to smash into Malfoy’s face. But now was not the time or place, and they were no longer fifteen years old. “Did you want something, Malfoy?”
“I just wanted to see the baby. That’s allowed, isn’t it?”
It was on the tip of Harry’s tongue to say no, but Hermione took the opportunity to slip her hand into his and squeeze, and as always, her touch soothed him.
“Right,” Ron said, not bothering to keep the hostility out of his tone. “You’ve seen the baby, now pi--”
“What the hell is that on his head?” Draco leaned closer, clearly mystified. In spite of their intense dislike of the blonde man, Harry and Ron found it difficult not to grin at him. Draco looked up for an answer, but the murderous look on Hermione’s face sent him scurrying away quickly. “I need a drink,” he said, disappearing before Hermione could say a word.
“Well done, Hermione,” Ron said, delighted. “You sent him running without a word!”
“They’re bunny ears! Why is that not plainly obvious? What else would he be wearing at Easter?”
“I think they’re absolutely adorable, Hermione.” Molly Weasley had a knack of appearing at precisely the right moment, especially when it came to situations involving her reluctant son-in-law. She was carrying a small tray in front of her, the contents obviously just fresh out of the oven. “Hot cross bun, anyone?”