8 YEARS LATER

When you married into a family as large as the one I had married into, it was only natural that you ended up babysitting kids when their parents decided that they were in the need of some rest. Merlin, I'd lost count of the number of times I'd babysat the kids within the first few months of marrying Ron. The number was so large that at times even Ron got a little annoyed to come home only to find one of his nieces or nephews settled in our living room. Not that he'd ever voice those thoughts, but the expression on his face was more than enough.

Even today, little James Sirius had been dropped off by his parents, so the new parents could get some much-needed alone time. But, just going by how large their dark circles had been, I very much doubted that they were doing anything more than going home to sleep. Yet another reason to put a brake on all this baby business that seemed to be going round at the moment.

James, having only just turned one, seemed rather excited about spending some time without his parents but I could only wonder whether he'd continue to feel that way by the time the evening deepened into the beginnings of the night. Rowena knew how the infant would feel about spending his first night away from home. But, from where he was held in my lap and playing with my hair, he didn't seem very fussed about it.

"You are so cute," I cooed, reaching out to pinch his cheek very lightly. James looked up at the gesture, laughing in delight at the attention he was receiving. "You've got the chubbiest cheeks, I could just eat you up."

"Oh, give it a rest," Ron grumbled, seated on the other end of the sofa. I looked up with an incredulous smile, shaking my head.

"You're behaving like a brat."

"It's not my fault; I can't even sulk that you're paying so much attention to another man."

Barely summoning the effort to roll my eyes, I looked down at the peaceful child in my arms who decided to giggle, as if he too found his uncle ridiculous. "Isn't that right James? He's just being a big silly man, isn't he?"

Nodding his head, James leaned in towards me as he grew tired once again. Resting his head against my chest, he brought a hand up to his mouth, eyes growing heavy. Making no effort to fight the affectionate smile and the rush of maternal emotion that welled up in me – an emotion I would deny possessing – I brushed my thumb over his rosy cheeks.

"Love," Ron called out quietly, and suddenly I became aware of the weight of his stare on me. For some reason, I couldn't bring myself to meet his eyes and stilled slightly when he called out my name.

Humming quietly in response, I kept my eyes focused on James who started to fuss, fighting the urge to fall asleep. Adjusting my hold on the dark-haired child, I rocked him back and forth slowly to try and lull him to sleep.

"What do you think about having one?" Ron asked suddenly, and I did my very best not to freeze under his eyes.

Clearing my throat, I asked quietly, "One what?"

"You know what."

Stiffening for a moment, I forced myself to raise my eyes to meet my husband's waiting ones. It wasn't like I could ignore him, to leave this debate hanging any longer. Frankly, I was surprised that Ron had managed to wait so long before talking to me about it. Ron kept his eyes on mine, waiting patiently for me to say something because if there was one thing he knew after all these years, it was that it was better for him to just let me think in peace when it came to times like this.

"Ron I –"

James, as if he'd inherited his father's ability to know when someone needed his help, let out a sudden scream, piercing the tension instantly. I looked quickly to the crying babe and rose to my feet, trying to calm him. But it seemed impossible to do and I hurried over towards Ron and shifted his squirming nephew towards him.

"Wait, where are you going?"

"I need to fix his bottle," I explained before practically running out of the room and into the kitchen.

So, what if I was using fixing James' bottle as the excuse I needed to rush out of that downright dangerous situation? It wasn't like I had made James cry either. The boy had just decided to do it himself. Once I was done fixing James' bottle, I hesitated as if to draw the time out longer. But I couldn't wait long; Ron would eventually come out in search of me.

With a sigh, I very reluctantly walked back to the front room only to find James sleeping peacefully in his uncle's arms. Eyeing the bottle of warm milk in my hand, I crossed the room to settle down on the arm of the chair Ron was seated comfortably in. Holding the bottle out without a word, I watched quietly as Ron fed James in his sleep. Just how often did babies sleep anyway?

"You know," Ron started quietly, turning towards me with patient eyes, "you never did answer my question."

"Didn't I?" I asked quietly, reaching out to run a hand through his hair as if that would distract him.

It failed miserably and if anything, he saw right through it and started to smile slowly. "No, you really didn't. So? What about it?"

"You'll wake James up," I said quickly.

"Love –"

"Shh." I reached out to cover his mouth with my hands. "Ginny says that James' is a nightmare to get back to sleep once he's been woken."

He started to laugh, the sound smothered by my palm. "Ybsv unbefvle."

And we'd ended up in this situation so often that I knew that meant 'You're unbelievable.'