melusin (melusin) wrote in melusin_la_fey, @ 2008-03-28 18:20:00 |
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Entry tags: | cuckoo, ss/hg |
Cuckoo in the Nest: The Baby Dialogues
This is my first post DH fic, in which I try to excise the memory of the Epilogue before I go and write something more interesting. SS/HG naturally, but not in a conventional sense. I'm not sure what to rate this - there's one mild sexual reference and a bit of swearing - not sure if that makes it more than PG. Your thoughts on that and anythng else would be appreciated. Many thanks to septentrion1970 for the lightningly fast beta.
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to JK Rowling. No money is being made and no infringement of copyright is intended.
‘Tell me,’ Hermione asked wearily, ‘why do we have to redecorate the nursery when it looks okay as it is?’
Ron smiled and patted his wife’s protruding belly. ‘Because it’s a boy,’ he explained patiently, making allowances for the fact that she was having an off day. ‘Pink would be just... wrong.’
Hermione was too tired to argue. Personally, she thought this whole colour thing was ridiculous. As if the baby would care what colour they painted the walls. No, so long as he was well fed, had his nappy changed regularly and could sleep somewhere warm and comfy any time he felt like it, he would be happy. She looked around the room, empty now – apart from the rocking chair Molly had given them when she was expecting Rose. ‘Whatever,’ she replied.
Ron chose to ignore his wife’s lack of interest in the decor. Hormones. ‘We’ll discuss it tonight – when I get back from work,’ he said cheerfully. ‘Take care, you two.’ He kissed Hermione on the cheek and patted her bump again. ‘See you later.’
Hermione watched Ron leave the room before slowly lowering herself into the rocking chair. She was worn out, debilitated by morning sickness. It had been a rotten pregnancy so far. Rose had been a breeze in comparison; a few weeks of morning sickness at the beginning, and that had been it. But with this one... the very sight of food made her queasy – even chocolate, which was making her feel especially miserable. Hermione considered Flooing Molly for some tea and sympathy – even though she was unlikely to keep the tea down.
‘That’s the thing with boys, dear,’ her mother-in-law’s voice came back to haunt her as she sat staring at the teddy bear wallpaper. ‘They fight you all the way. Male magic is different from ours, you see. Ours is alien to them.’
Hermione had smiled politely at the time before dismissing it as another old wives’ tale, but lately, she was beginning to suspect that there might be something in it. After all, Molly had had six boys, and so it was fair to assume that she could be trusted to know what she was talking about. Hermione couldn’t for the life of her understand, though, why her mother-in-law, if she had been this bad with Bill, had gone on to repeat the experience another four times. Must be a masochist, she thought spitefully. If this one had been my first, he would have grown up an only child.
Closing her eyes in despair, Hermione rested her head on the back of the chair. How much longer could this possibly go on for? She was barely half way there yet. I don’t think I can take much more of this...
‘Have you forgotten everything I ever taught you?’ said a voice. 'There is a potion– ’
‘Go away. You’re dead.’
He laughed. ‘I have unfinished business, Miss Granger.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘It means,’ the voice replied, ‘that I did not accomplish what I set out to do in my last life. In fact, I made many more mistakes, so I have to come back to rectify them. I do, however, get to choose the best people to help me get it right this time – that is, my new parents. In short, Miss Granger, I have chosen you. Oh, and by the way, I am rather partial to green...’.
‘Nooo...’ Hermione woke up in a cold sweat.