fanfic.
Kay. Just quickly posting my latest fic. R/HR (aka: the best OTP ever!).
Beware! Extremely fluffy and filled with loveliness. Didn't even notice until I re-read and went "My GOD! That's fluffy!" And it's pretty long so.. Well.. Nah, not too long.
I’ll Love You Forever
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters belong to J.K. Rowling. Book excerpts from “Love You Forever” by Robert Munsch.
Ron couldn’t sleep. It’s as simple as that. The bed was too hot, too small, too everything that wouldn’t let him drift off. He glared over at Harry, sleeping soundly in his cot from the Burrow’s attic. His soft snoring drifted over to Ron’s bed and he growled enviously.
“Stupid git. How can he sleep? It’s over a hundred degrees in here.”
Ron kicked the sheet off his body, briefly wondering why he bothered with it in the first place, and rolled out of bed. Glancing at the clock on his wall, it read three-thirty.
Great. Mum wants me to de-gnome the garden tomorrow and I can’t even bloody sleep! All I know is Harry’s going to do most of the work.
Knowing he wasn’t going to get anymore sleep in the next few hours, he slipped on his dressing gown and staggered down the stairs, trying to be as quiet as possible. Of course, in an old house like The Burrow, it was highly impossible. The floorboards creaked and moaned all the time. Thankfully, the residents of the rather lopsided house were used to it, even the two guests that have been coming over every summer for the last few years; Harry Potter and Hermione Granger.
One board creaked rather loudly on the last stair leading to the downstairs, and Ron winced, glancing up the stairs at Ginny’s room, where she and Hermione were currently sleeping. And why I’m the only unlucky sod to have been up all night is beyond me.
Safely on the main floor, Ron shuffled over to the kitchen to make some tea (Maybe that’ll get me to sleep.). Before he made it, however, he heard a sharp intake of breath and a whispered “Ron?”
Ron whipped around, giving him a small sense of whiplash, and found Hermione sitting on the couch, reading a book, using her wand as the only source of light. “What are you doing up?” she asked quietly, so as not to wake anyone.
“Uh…” For a moment he forgot what his mission was. Why am I up, again? Oh, bugger! I can’t think when she’s sitting there in her dressing gown, looking so beautiful. Bugger, why am I here!
“Uh… Just… Couldn’t sleep. I was going to make some tea.” He mumbled, pointing vaguely towards the kitchen, not meeting her eyes.
“Now that you mention it, tea sounds great. I’ll help you.”
“You don’t have to-“
“Nonsense. It’s only fair.” She rose from the couch, still carrying her book. Ron stared at it, noticing that it was rather thin for a book that Hermione usually reads. She set it lightly on the kitchen table and started filling the teapot before Ron even moved his feet. “Oh, right…”
Hermione giggled softly, making Ron blush even more. Damn the Weasley trait of having to resemble a beet when embarrassed!
They worked in silence, their movements robotic throughout the kitchen, as if they’ve done this for some many sleepless nights. Ron didn’t notice until they were both sitting at the table silently, sipping their tea. He smiled in his teacup.
Looking at Hermione, he wondered if she noticed as well, but instead noticed her lips were moving. Confused, he shook his head slightly and asked her to repeat what she said.
She smiled slightly, tilting her head to the side, the way she does when looking at something that amuses her. “I asked you why you couldn’t sleep. Harry’s snoring keeping you up?”
Ron smiled, sinking comfortably into the conversation. “Nah, nothing like that. It was just too hot. It’s like an inferno in my room when it’s summertime.”
Hermione nodded, sipping her tea. “I know what you mean. It’s the same in my own room at home. Sometimes, I can’t even wear my dressing gown at nights.”
Ron choked and spilled some of his tea on the table. Hermione automatically rose from her seat and grabbed a towel to wipe off the mess. Ron, ears officially as maroon as the jumpers that his mother knits, mumbled “thanks” when she finished. Hermione just smirked. Not smiled, smirked. Ron glared. If he didn’t know better, he’d say she was poking fun.
“Better? Or are you going to have another coughing fit?”
“So clever, Hermione.”
“Because I could get you a napkin to stuff into your shirt collar if you really need it.”
“Ignoring that comment.”
Hermione beamed, like a child who was trying to get on their parents’ good side. Ron glared playfully again. She laughed and winked. “You know I’m just poking fun, Ron. I’m sure you haven’t needed a bib since 4th year.”
“Ouch.” Ron rubbed his hand on his chest, over his heart, as if wounded by her remark. “Right where it hurts, ‘Mione.” Deciding to change the subject, he shifted his gaze over to the book she put on the table before they made the tea. The book was a rather short one, like a children’s book. The title was Love You Forever.
Intrigued, Ron flipped the cover open and read the first page.
A mother held her new baby and very slowly rocked him back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. And while she held him, she sang:
I'll love you forever,
I'll like you for always,
As long as I'm living
my baby you'll be.
“Hermione?”
“Hm…” She looked up from her cup of tea and, saw what Ron was reading, blushed slightly. Ron smiled inwardly. She really did look beautiful when she blushed.
“What book is this?”
“Oh… Hum… Nothing.”
“Is it a children’s book?”
“No.”
Ron stared at her for a moment.
“All right, yes it is. May I have it back now? Or are you going to poke fun?”
“Nah, I won’t poke fun. More like ask you why you’re reading a children’s book.”
“No reason.”
“Hm…”
“Really, it’s for no reason. I just couldn’t find anything to read and I wasn’t tired so…”
“Then you go back to your default book Hogwarts, A History."
“There are only so many times a girl can read that book.”
“Hermione! Did you just say that?”
“I thought you weren’t going to poke fun.”
“No, really Hermione, why this book?”
Hermione bit her lip, as if deciding if she should divulge a big secret. “Well… It’s just that… That’s the book my mum would read me when I was little. I’m quite fond of it.”
After a small pause, Ron wondered if that was all she was going to say when she went on.
“I knew that book by heart at age three. Knew how to read and understand the words by myself at age five. But every night I still wanted her to read it to me. It made me feel better. After a hard day, this book would make it better.”
She looked up at Ron, smiling wistfully. “For some reason,” she shrugged.
“Anyway, she hasn’t read it to me in a long time, but I’ve kept it in my room. And whenever I would have a bad day, I’d take this book out and read it, and I’d feel better.” At this, she took the book from Ron and thumbed through the obviously worn pages. “I don’t know why I took it out now. I guess… What with this huge war going on, our best friend in danger wherever he goes, Hogwarts not even being safe anymore, I guess it’s just a security blanket.”
She slowly placed the book on the table, as if it was made of gold. “Tonight, when I started to read it, I was five-years-old again, and I was in my horridly pink room with my mum. And I wasn’t a witch. I wasn’t a loner because I didn’t have any friends. I was… Hermione. And it felt good. It felt right.”
Looking back at Ron, her eyes were shining. “I miss those days. Life was simple. Don’t get me wrong, going to Hogwarts and being a witch has been the most amazing thing that has happened to me. But sometimes, it’s hard. Worrying about Harry all the time is hard. This war, affecting all our loved ones, is hard.”
When she finished, she picked up the book again and flipped to the first page, where her mother wrote the words My Hermione, may this book chase away all the bad things in your life and bring you joy. A small tear fell then.
Ron slowly grabbed her hand. She jumped slightly, forgetting momentarily that he was even there. She laughed half-heartedly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to blubber about it.” He shook his head, looking hard into her eyes. “Don’t be sorry. I feel like that sometimes.”
“Really?” She used the pad of her thumb to wipe her tears.
“Yeah, I feel like I can’t handle this whole thing. This war. It is hard. Especially for Harry. But you know? You’ve been so strong through all this, that’s why it’s a surprise that I heard all this tonight. But you wanna know something?”
She sniffed. “What?”
“If that book is your security blanket, then you’re mine.”
She laughed. “How am I your security blanket?”
“By just being you. By being the smartest, bravest witch I’ve ever known. Through all of this, even way back in 1st year, you’ve been so brave. Who was the one that got me out of the Devil’s Snare? Who was the one that figured out the secret of the Chamber? Hermione, you think those were all coincidences? You’re amazing.”
She blushed at the last remark, all of a sudden becoming rather shy, studying the pattern of the wood in the table.
Ron picked up the book, flipping through the pages absently, but still staring at Hermione. “I just hope that this book will make your kids feel the same way your feeling right now. That no matter what’s happening in the world, there’s still a reason to feel safe.”
Hermione started crying again, but not tears of sadness, her heart swelling with love for the boy in front of her. No, not a boy anymore, a young man, who has acted way beyond his years tonight.
Way too emotional to think properly, she leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on Ron’s lips. Too stunned to move, Ron remained stoic, his eyes still open wide, and staring at Hermione’s closed eyelids. When she pulled back, her cheeks were tinted pink, but she wore a rather serious face.
“Thank you, Ron,” she whispered. Then, before Ron could respond, she snatched up the small book and quickly disappeared up the stairs.
Ron, still sitting in the same position on the chair, was very closely resembling a fish out of water at that moment. Finally able to gain control of his mouth, he snapped it shut and replayed what just happened a few moments ago.
Hermione. Kissed him.
Hermione kissed Ron.
Hermione kissed me!
His face, now changed from a look of shock, now resembled that of a cat that just ate a canary. He smirked at no one in particular, and repeated out loud his new favorite mantra.
“Hermione kissed me.”
Deciding he liked the sound of that on his tongue, he slowly began to put the teacups away, all the while repeating the same phrase over and over.
“Hermione kissed me.”
“Hermione. Kissed me.”
“’Bout bloody time.”
Ron nearly jumped out of his skin, a teacup crashing on the hardwood floor, and whirled around. His heart began beating normally again when he realized who it was, and he scowled.
“What are you doing up, Gin? Other than trying to scare your brother to an early death.”
Ginny smirked slyly. “So sorry about that,” she replied, not sounding sorry at all, “but I couldn’t sleep and when I heard Hermione come into the room, albeit not very quietly, I wanted to know what was going on down here. And ‘lo and behold, my big brother is cleaning teacups and about to spout out sonnets if he gets any happier.”
“Sod off.”
“Oh, don’t try and be all sulky. You know you’re dancing around like you drank a full bottle of Daydreaming Potion right now. I can even see it. It’s making me sick.”
The scowling face disappeared rather quickly to be replaced by a look of sheer giddiness. “Hermione kissed me, you know.”
“Yeah, yeah… Get me some tea, will you? I won’t be getting to bed anytime soon, now.”
__________________________________
Hermione couldn’t sleep. It’s as simple as that. Not when her husband wasn’t by her side. She sat up in bed groggily, looking over at the empty side of her bed, frowning slightly. Where would he go?
That’s when she heard something down the hall. A soft, deep murmuring. Slightly confused, she crawled out of bed, wrapped her dressing gown around her shivering frame, and started down the hallway towards the voice.
The voice was coming from the last door on the right, which was slightly ajar. She slowly pushed it open, and saw her husband, Ron Weasley, sitting in her mother’s old rocking chair by the window, reading a book to the small bundle in the crib.
Hermione slipped inside, trying to be as quiet as she could. But if Ron heard her, he gave no indication. He kept on reading. When Hermione recognized the book he was reading to their daughter, tears started welling up in her eyes.
”When the son came home that night, he stood for a long time at the top of the stairs. Then he went into the room where his very new baby daughter was sleeping. He picked her up in his arms and very slowly rocked her back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. And while he rocked her he sang:
I'll love you forever,
I'll like you for always,
As long as I'm living
my baby you'll be.”
When he finished, Ron softly closed the book and rose from the rocking chair to stand over his daughter. “Love you, Molly Jane,” he whispered.
Hermione approached Ron from behind, wrapping her arms around his torso and pressing her cheek to his back. “She’s so beautiful, isn’t she ‘Mione?”
Hermione looked around his tall frame and into Molly Jane’s crib, where her small form was sleeping soundly. “Beautiful, Ron,” she murmured, and placed a kiss to his arm. “And, after you read that book to her the 4th time tonight, I think she’s starting to understand you. Even if she is 6 months old.”
Ron turned around in her arms, glaring playfully at her smirk. “You poking fun?”
“Not at all.”
“Good.” He kissed her softly on the lips, then his eyes became serious. “She’s just so beautiful, and small, I can’t not look at her. It’s like, some sort of ‘dad radar’ starts beeping and I have to go see Molly Jane.”
“Do you even know what ‘radar’ is?”
“Nope. But I heard you say it a few times.” Ron shrugged, before turning around again and staring at Molly Jane some more. Hermione giggled slightly.
“I’ll leave you two alone, then. Come to bed soon, though, okay? I can’t sleep without you.”
Ron smiled smugly. “Really, now? How… exciting. Knowing you’ll be in our bed, waiting for me.”
“Down boy.”
After one last kiss, Hermione turned away from Ron and her daughter, and slipped out as quietly as she came.
Ron bent over the crib, placed a soft kiss on the baby’s soft crown, and whispered “Love you forever Molly Jane.”
Ron picked up the book on the rocking chair and put it in its rightful place on the bookshelf, and quietly exited the room, just like his wife.
I'll love you forever,
I'll like you for always,
As long as I'm living
my baby you'll be.
Beware! Extremely fluffy and filled with loveliness. Didn't even notice until I re-read and went "My GOD! That's fluffy!" And it's pretty long so.. Well.. Nah, not too long.
I’ll Love You Forever
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters belong to J.K. Rowling. Book excerpts from “Love You Forever” by Robert Munsch.
Ron couldn’t sleep. It’s as simple as that. The bed was too hot, too small, too everything that wouldn’t let him drift off. He glared over at Harry, sleeping soundly in his cot from the Burrow’s attic. His soft snoring drifted over to Ron’s bed and he growled enviously.
“Stupid git. How can he sleep? It’s over a hundred degrees in here.”
Ron kicked the sheet off his body, briefly wondering why he bothered with it in the first place, and rolled out of bed. Glancing at the clock on his wall, it read three-thirty.
Great. Mum wants me to de-gnome the garden tomorrow and I can’t even bloody sleep! All I know is Harry’s going to do most of the work.
Knowing he wasn’t going to get anymore sleep in the next few hours, he slipped on his dressing gown and staggered down the stairs, trying to be as quiet as possible. Of course, in an old house like The Burrow, it was highly impossible. The floorboards creaked and moaned all the time. Thankfully, the residents of the rather lopsided house were used to it, even the two guests that have been coming over every summer for the last few years; Harry Potter and Hermione Granger.
One board creaked rather loudly on the last stair leading to the downstairs, and Ron winced, glancing up the stairs at Ginny’s room, where she and Hermione were currently sleeping. And why I’m the only unlucky sod to have been up all night is beyond me.
Safely on the main floor, Ron shuffled over to the kitchen to make some tea (Maybe that’ll get me to sleep.). Before he made it, however, he heard a sharp intake of breath and a whispered “Ron?”
Ron whipped around, giving him a small sense of whiplash, and found Hermione sitting on the couch, reading a book, using her wand as the only source of light. “What are you doing up?” she asked quietly, so as not to wake anyone.
“Uh…” For a moment he forgot what his mission was. Why am I up, again? Oh, bugger! I can’t think when she’s sitting there in her dressing gown, looking so beautiful. Bugger, why am I here!
“Uh… Just… Couldn’t sleep. I was going to make some tea.” He mumbled, pointing vaguely towards the kitchen, not meeting her eyes.
“Now that you mention it, tea sounds great. I’ll help you.”
“You don’t have to-“
“Nonsense. It’s only fair.” She rose from the couch, still carrying her book. Ron stared at it, noticing that it was rather thin for a book that Hermione usually reads. She set it lightly on the kitchen table and started filling the teapot before Ron even moved his feet. “Oh, right…”
Hermione giggled softly, making Ron blush even more. Damn the Weasley trait of having to resemble a beet when embarrassed!
They worked in silence, their movements robotic throughout the kitchen, as if they’ve done this for some many sleepless nights. Ron didn’t notice until they were both sitting at the table silently, sipping their tea. He smiled in his teacup.
Looking at Hermione, he wondered if she noticed as well, but instead noticed her lips were moving. Confused, he shook his head slightly and asked her to repeat what she said.
She smiled slightly, tilting her head to the side, the way she does when looking at something that amuses her. “I asked you why you couldn’t sleep. Harry’s snoring keeping you up?”
Ron smiled, sinking comfortably into the conversation. “Nah, nothing like that. It was just too hot. It’s like an inferno in my room when it’s summertime.”
Hermione nodded, sipping her tea. “I know what you mean. It’s the same in my own room at home. Sometimes, I can’t even wear my dressing gown at nights.”
Ron choked and spilled some of his tea on the table. Hermione automatically rose from her seat and grabbed a towel to wipe off the mess. Ron, ears officially as maroon as the jumpers that his mother knits, mumbled “thanks” when she finished. Hermione just smirked. Not smiled, smirked. Ron glared. If he didn’t know better, he’d say she was poking fun.
“Better? Or are you going to have another coughing fit?”
“So clever, Hermione.”
“Because I could get you a napkin to stuff into your shirt collar if you really need it.”
“Ignoring that comment.”
Hermione beamed, like a child who was trying to get on their parents’ good side. Ron glared playfully again. She laughed and winked. “You know I’m just poking fun, Ron. I’m sure you haven’t needed a bib since 4th year.”
“Ouch.” Ron rubbed his hand on his chest, over his heart, as if wounded by her remark. “Right where it hurts, ‘Mione.” Deciding to change the subject, he shifted his gaze over to the book she put on the table before they made the tea. The book was a rather short one, like a children’s book. The title was Love You Forever.
Intrigued, Ron flipped the cover open and read the first page.
A mother held her new baby and very slowly rocked him back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. And while she held him, she sang:
I'll love you forever,
I'll like you for always,
As long as I'm living
my baby you'll be.
“Hermione?”
“Hm…” She looked up from her cup of tea and, saw what Ron was reading, blushed slightly. Ron smiled inwardly. She really did look beautiful when she blushed.
“What book is this?”
“Oh… Hum… Nothing.”
“Is it a children’s book?”
“No.”
Ron stared at her for a moment.
“All right, yes it is. May I have it back now? Or are you going to poke fun?”
“Nah, I won’t poke fun. More like ask you why you’re reading a children’s book.”
“No reason.”
“Hm…”
“Really, it’s for no reason. I just couldn’t find anything to read and I wasn’t tired so…”
“Then you go back to your default book Hogwarts, A History."
“There are only so many times a girl can read that book.”
“Hermione! Did you just say that?”
“I thought you weren’t going to poke fun.”
“No, really Hermione, why this book?”
Hermione bit her lip, as if deciding if she should divulge a big secret. “Well… It’s just that… That’s the book my mum would read me when I was little. I’m quite fond of it.”
After a small pause, Ron wondered if that was all she was going to say when she went on.
“I knew that book by heart at age three. Knew how to read and understand the words by myself at age five. But every night I still wanted her to read it to me. It made me feel better. After a hard day, this book would make it better.”
She looked up at Ron, smiling wistfully. “For some reason,” she shrugged.
“Anyway, she hasn’t read it to me in a long time, but I’ve kept it in my room. And whenever I would have a bad day, I’d take this book out and read it, and I’d feel better.” At this, she took the book from Ron and thumbed through the obviously worn pages. “I don’t know why I took it out now. I guess… What with this huge war going on, our best friend in danger wherever he goes, Hogwarts not even being safe anymore, I guess it’s just a security blanket.”
She slowly placed the book on the table, as if it was made of gold. “Tonight, when I started to read it, I was five-years-old again, and I was in my horridly pink room with my mum. And I wasn’t a witch. I wasn’t a loner because I didn’t have any friends. I was… Hermione. And it felt good. It felt right.”
Looking back at Ron, her eyes were shining. “I miss those days. Life was simple. Don’t get me wrong, going to Hogwarts and being a witch has been the most amazing thing that has happened to me. But sometimes, it’s hard. Worrying about Harry all the time is hard. This war, affecting all our loved ones, is hard.”
When she finished, she picked up the book again and flipped to the first page, where her mother wrote the words My Hermione, may this book chase away all the bad things in your life and bring you joy. A small tear fell then.
Ron slowly grabbed her hand. She jumped slightly, forgetting momentarily that he was even there. She laughed half-heartedly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to blubber about it.” He shook his head, looking hard into her eyes. “Don’t be sorry. I feel like that sometimes.”
“Really?” She used the pad of her thumb to wipe her tears.
“Yeah, I feel like I can’t handle this whole thing. This war. It is hard. Especially for Harry. But you know? You’ve been so strong through all this, that’s why it’s a surprise that I heard all this tonight. But you wanna know something?”
She sniffed. “What?”
“If that book is your security blanket, then you’re mine.”
She laughed. “How am I your security blanket?”
“By just being you. By being the smartest, bravest witch I’ve ever known. Through all of this, even way back in 1st year, you’ve been so brave. Who was the one that got me out of the Devil’s Snare? Who was the one that figured out the secret of the Chamber? Hermione, you think those were all coincidences? You’re amazing.”
She blushed at the last remark, all of a sudden becoming rather shy, studying the pattern of the wood in the table.
Ron picked up the book, flipping through the pages absently, but still staring at Hermione. “I just hope that this book will make your kids feel the same way your feeling right now. That no matter what’s happening in the world, there’s still a reason to feel safe.”
Hermione started crying again, but not tears of sadness, her heart swelling with love for the boy in front of her. No, not a boy anymore, a young man, who has acted way beyond his years tonight.
Way too emotional to think properly, she leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on Ron’s lips. Too stunned to move, Ron remained stoic, his eyes still open wide, and staring at Hermione’s closed eyelids. When she pulled back, her cheeks were tinted pink, but she wore a rather serious face.
“Thank you, Ron,” she whispered. Then, before Ron could respond, she snatched up the small book and quickly disappeared up the stairs.
Ron, still sitting in the same position on the chair, was very closely resembling a fish out of water at that moment. Finally able to gain control of his mouth, he snapped it shut and replayed what just happened a few moments ago.
Hermione. Kissed him.
Hermione kissed Ron.
Hermione kissed me!
His face, now changed from a look of shock, now resembled that of a cat that just ate a canary. He smirked at no one in particular, and repeated out loud his new favorite mantra.
“Hermione kissed me.”
Deciding he liked the sound of that on his tongue, he slowly began to put the teacups away, all the while repeating the same phrase over and over.
“Hermione kissed me.”
“Hermione. Kissed me.”
“’Bout bloody time.”
Ron nearly jumped out of his skin, a teacup crashing on the hardwood floor, and whirled around. His heart began beating normally again when he realized who it was, and he scowled.
“What are you doing up, Gin? Other than trying to scare your brother to an early death.”
Ginny smirked slyly. “So sorry about that,” she replied, not sounding sorry at all, “but I couldn’t sleep and when I heard Hermione come into the room, albeit not very quietly, I wanted to know what was going on down here. And ‘lo and behold, my big brother is cleaning teacups and about to spout out sonnets if he gets any happier.”
“Sod off.”
“Oh, don’t try and be all sulky. You know you’re dancing around like you drank a full bottle of Daydreaming Potion right now. I can even see it. It’s making me sick.”
The scowling face disappeared rather quickly to be replaced by a look of sheer giddiness. “Hermione kissed me, you know.”
“Yeah, yeah… Get me some tea, will you? I won’t be getting to bed anytime soon, now.”
__________________________________
Hermione couldn’t sleep. It’s as simple as that. Not when her husband wasn’t by her side. She sat up in bed groggily, looking over at the empty side of her bed, frowning slightly. Where would he go?
That’s when she heard something down the hall. A soft, deep murmuring. Slightly confused, she crawled out of bed, wrapped her dressing gown around her shivering frame, and started down the hallway towards the voice.
The voice was coming from the last door on the right, which was slightly ajar. She slowly pushed it open, and saw her husband, Ron Weasley, sitting in her mother’s old rocking chair by the window, reading a book to the small bundle in the crib.
Hermione slipped inside, trying to be as quiet as she could. But if Ron heard her, he gave no indication. He kept on reading. When Hermione recognized the book he was reading to their daughter, tears started welling up in her eyes.
”When the son came home that night, he stood for a long time at the top of the stairs. Then he went into the room where his very new baby daughter was sleeping. He picked her up in his arms and very slowly rocked her back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. And while he rocked her he sang:
I'll love you forever,
I'll like you for always,
As long as I'm living
my baby you'll be.”
When he finished, Ron softly closed the book and rose from the rocking chair to stand over his daughter. “Love you, Molly Jane,” he whispered.
Hermione approached Ron from behind, wrapping her arms around his torso and pressing her cheek to his back. “She’s so beautiful, isn’t she ‘Mione?”
Hermione looked around his tall frame and into Molly Jane’s crib, where her small form was sleeping soundly. “Beautiful, Ron,” she murmured, and placed a kiss to his arm. “And, after you read that book to her the 4th time tonight, I think she’s starting to understand you. Even if she is 6 months old.”
Ron turned around in her arms, glaring playfully at her smirk. “You poking fun?”
“Not at all.”
“Good.” He kissed her softly on the lips, then his eyes became serious. “She’s just so beautiful, and small, I can’t not look at her. It’s like, some sort of ‘dad radar’ starts beeping and I have to go see Molly Jane.”
“Do you even know what ‘radar’ is?”
“Nope. But I heard you say it a few times.” Ron shrugged, before turning around again and staring at Molly Jane some more. Hermione giggled slightly.
“I’ll leave you two alone, then. Come to bed soon, though, okay? I can’t sleep without you.”
Ron smiled smugly. “Really, now? How… exciting. Knowing you’ll be in our bed, waiting for me.”
“Down boy.”
After one last kiss, Hermione turned away from Ron and her daughter, and slipped out as quietly as she came.
Ron bent over the crib, placed a soft kiss on the baby’s soft crown, and whispered “Love you forever Molly Jane.”
Ron picked up the book on the rocking chair and put it in its rightful place on the bookshelf, and quietly exited the room, just like his wife.
I'll love you forever,
I'll like you for always,
As long as I'm living
my baby you'll be.