Six months, fifteen days, 17 hours, forty-four minutes, three seconds . . . four seconds . . . five seconds . . .: that's how long he'd been gone.
But who's counting?
Apparently the wee babe in her belly, for its kicks happened every second for the past two minutes, well, now three minutes.
Ginny cooed, rubbing her tummy and murmuring nonsense, hoping to soothe its restlessness. The babe had never met its father, yet it missed him, too; or so Ginny liked to believe. Perhaps the baby felt its mother's distress and was trying to soothe her fears and worry.
Ginny smiled softly. Their babe was already intuitive; she smelled Hufflepuff for this kid.
She laughed aloud at that; Draco would have a conniption if that happened. Tears pricked her eyes; he had to come back in order to have a conniption of any kind where their baby was concerned.
He'd left for war the morning after their very first night together; a bittersweeting union of souls desperately trying to enjoy a moment of serenity and love despite the chaos and hatred around them. He'd been very patient, tender, and loving; kissing her tears, making her moan in pleasure with every kiss and touch, showing her that one can fly without the aid of a broom.
They flew together that night, and neither wanted to return to earth.
But as the rays of the morning sun nudged them awake, they said nothing to each other, using only touches, looks, and kisses to convey the unspeakable measures of their love for each other, and the emptiness theydl feel once parted.
That had been six months, fifteen days, 17 hours, fifty minutes, 23 seconds . . . 24 seconds . . . 25 seconds . . . ago.
How she wanted their baby to meet its father! More importantly, she wanted Draco to meet his baby, the perennial love child, a fitting testament to how she and Draco felt for each other. The pure adoration she held for the being in her tummy could only rival that of its father, and she told it stories, of how Draco was the biggest prat while they were at school, how he's still an arrogant git, but her arrogant git, how his imperfections made her love him so much.
How much Draco loved her and because of that, the babe he had no idea she was carrying.
Ginny was hungry, but she had to settle for the food in the house. With great effort she stood, and she took a few deep breaths before going slowly down the hill. Smoke was coming from the chimney, and she figured her mother was here to help. Bless that woman's heart, she'd checked in on her daughter daily, making sure Ginny had all she needed and was okay.
But she didn't have all she needed; what she needed the most was out in the field; risking his life daily . . .
Or rather, in their back yard, hair unkempt and looking around frantically, his wand at the ready.
Ginny murmured his name in disbelief, yet his head turned toward her. Both stood their frozen, and suddenly her name was loud, deep, and masculine as he shouted it, running up the hill even as her pace increased down it. Her body began to tremble and the baby became more active at the sound of its father's voice. His pace became slower as they got closer, his eyes darting from hers to her belly. Ginny held her abdomen protectively, suddenly shy and unsure how he'd react.
"It's yours," she said, then cursed herself. She didn't want that to be the first thing she said to him, but it was too late to take it back.
Draco said nothing, standing so closely to her not even air could come between them. Suddenly he fell to his knees, his hands trembling as he pressed against her stomach. The baby kicked and Draco gasped.
The baby's first hello to its father.
Ginny closed her eyes and tilted her face skyward, allowing father and child a few moments alone. Tears began to run down her cheeks as Draco's lips and hands caressed her belly, his voice sending soft ripples through her skin. The baby was no less active, tapping, punching, and kicking to every murmured question and comment its father made. Suddenly Draco's arms came around fully as he buried his face to her. Ginny's hands went to his hair and she whimpred, missing the feel of its softness far too long.
Draco slid up her body, pressing kisses along it as he did so, until finally he stood upright. Ginny's face was still tilted up, and her eyes were still closed, but her tears came faster when his lips pressed against each eye softly . . . reverently . . .
"Mine . . ." he breathed against her ear, and Ginny nodded emphatically.
"Yours . . ." she whispered against his cheek, rough with stubble yet perfect anyway.
"Always," he mumbled against her forehead, his hands going back to her tummy. The baby rubbed against them and she nodded.
"Forever," she said brokenly, tears continuing to flow down her cheeks. Draco cupped her chin, using his thumb to wipe her tears away.
"Our love," he declared, right before he kissed her.
The first kiss in six months, fifteen days, 18 hours, 12 minutes, 33 seconds.
This site belongs to Anise and Lyndsie. Anise and Lyndsie do not own any of the characters featured in these stories, much as we would like to. The characters actually belong to JK Rowling and assorted large corporations who make a profit from their efforts, which is another important difference between us. We're not affiliated with them, we don't make any money, and suing us would be silly as we don't have any money.
All stories archived are the property of their respective authors, and plagiarism is a big big nono. Any further questions, suggestions,
tribute, complaints, or snide comments can be forwarded to