Chapter 1: Potter-Weasley-Granger Household

Hermione stirred from sleep at the first graying of the light. Even after that, though, she lay quietly in the bed, not rustling the sheets. She could feel hands spooning her, cupping her breasts from behind, the touch tingling over her simple nightie. Chuckling in amusement, she craned her head back to regard a snoring Harry. She used to hate it when he snored, but being married and sharing a bed for five years had endeared her to the sound. She kissed Harry's lips gently, and murmured, "I love you..."

Harry's rumbling was punctuated by a sharp snort, but he did not wake.

Hermione snuggled back down into the bedclothes, giggling. In front of her, the warmth of Ron's muscular backside pressed into her. Her womanly nether regions brushed up against his toned buttocks, and she had to stifle a moan. It had been months since she had been relegated to the middle position in the large queen bed - to do so in the state she had been in would have been intolerable, and likely resulted in one or both of her husbands resting precariously on the edge of the bed, if not outright pushed from it.

Hermione had not expected for her two best friends to propose marriage. She had always been a fairly simple girl, and had certainly never regarded herself as pretty. As a child, she had imagined her wedding, telling her fantasies to her mother while she brushed her hair. Hermione had never, in her wildest dreams, imagined donning a white dress and pledging her life and her love to two men rather than one. The bridal gown had been simple, as simple as the ceremony out by the Black Lake, where they had exchanged vows and rings. Both of the pendants now glistened on her right hand - the first having once been the ring of Gaunt, now purged of its Horcrux past (that had been Harry's gift to her). The other ring had once belonged to Ron's grandmother.

The sky now began to glow an inviting, soothing pink. It was almost like a cue, for just then, Hermione heard cooing and tiny sounds coming from the baby monitor on Ron's nightstand. Reaching over him - and ignoring the aroused cramp in her legs where her womanhood brushed up once again alongside his tight arse - she grabbed the contraption and clambered over Ron's prone form. Her bushy brown hair in curlers, slippers slid on her feet, she padded down the hall to the nursery.

Her baby girl was standing up in her crib, tiny fists clutching the bars, her face broken out into a toothy grin. Hermione regarded her daughter blearily and full of love.

"Hello, Josephine Michelle Cozybear! Good morning!" she crooned.

Josephine shrieked in delight and reached for her mother. Hermione trilled out a laugh and glided over to the crib. She would never forget when she had first told Harry and Ron that she was carrying their baby, that she was pregnant. Harry had let out something akin to a war whoop and Ron had proceeded to snog her senseless and take her over the kitchen table. Hermione now lay Josephine back in her crib and bounced her palms along her chest, tickling her.

"Happy Birthday to you... oh Happy Birthday to you..." she sang as Josephine stared at her with glee. Josephine Michelle Potter-Weasley had been born two years ago this very morning, leaving Hermione in labor for close to seventeen hours. But every last one of those hours had been worth it in the end. Josephine had Ron's red hair, and Harry's deep green eyes.

Josephine didn't want to go down again, so Hermione finally lifted her from her crib, grunting. "Wanna help Mummy fix breakfast?"

Josephine gave another shriek and started to play with Hermione's brown curls. She smiled. "I'll take that as a Yes, then." Mother and baby padded downstairs to the kitchen, where Hermione fixed some eggs onto a skillet. All the while, she bounced Josephine along her hip, trying to get her to talk. Maybe today would be the day, that she said her first words.

"Hi, Jo-Jo! Jo-Jo, can you say Mama?"

Josephine just giggled. A creak on the stairs made Hermione spin around. Next second, she was being pressed back into the counter, bent back over the stove as her husband gave her a long, lingering kiss. Hermione flung her arms about his neck, tangling her free hand into his red locks as she purred in pleasure. "Hmmm... Ron..."

Ron chuckled. "You're the sexiest thing I've ever seen, love, especially when you get up in the morning."

"Hmm," Hermione hummed. "You certainly know how to flatter a woman, Mr. Weasley."

"That's Mr. Potter-Weasley to you."

Hermione beamed and bounced Josephine. "Jo-Jo, can you say Good morning to Da-Da?"

Josephine just urped onto her pajamas in response. Hermione frowned, and Ron laughed.

"With you as her mother, there's no way she won't be bloody brilliant!"

"Yeah, well, she's got your ears, so that might be debatable." Harry Potter chuckled as he emerged on the stairwell landing, clad in a robe.

"My ears are just fine, thank you," Ron deadpanned, pretending to take offense. "They could hear your snoring all bloody night!"

Harry just rolled his eyes, ignoring his wife's giggle. "Thank Merlin for Saturday mornings!"

"Small pleasures," Ron shrugged. He turned his attention to the skillet, making sure the eggs didn't burn, as Hermione placed a wriggling Josephine in her highchair. Glancing behind her, she spotted Harry wrap himself around Ron from behind, his hands overlaying on Ron's large paws as he guided him on how to cook the eggs.

"I know how you like yours, mate!" Ron laughed. "Over-easy! Really, by now you should have more confidence in my culinary abilities!" He was cut off as Harry craned his face around to mash his lips against those of his husband.

"If you cooked half as well as you snog, my dear, you would rival Anthony Bourdain as a chef," Harry proclaimed when he came up for air.

"I thought I already did."

"Only in your mind, my bragging husband!" And Harry went back to snogging Ron rather indecently. The sight aroused Hermione to no end, and she let out a moan. She flushed as Harry and Ron suddenly stopped to stare at her, amused.

"You want in, my love?" Harry smirked.

Hermione pouted. "Why don't I get a kiss?" Harry shook his head and sauntered over. Yanking Hermione to him from around her waist, he proceeded to kiss her breathless. His tongue hijacked her mouth with ease. A medium-sized hand reached out to palm her breast audaciously through her nightie, tweaking the nipple in a way that made Hermione squirm.

"Even with bedhead, you're bloody gorgeous!" Harry murmured into her lips. He finally released her, then endowed her with a parting, chaste peck. "Good morning, darling."

"Good morning," Hermione sighed. "Nice to know I'm still equal."

"You and Ron are equal," Harry promised with an easy smile. "Remember our vows?"

"I should hope I do!" Hermione laughed. Her delicate fingers took to playing with the nape of his neck - jet-black hair that refused to remain tidy. Just the way she liked it. "You remember how we met?"

Harry grinned. "How could I forget?"