Freedom

Hermione was angry.

Okay, she wasn’t really angry, she was just disappointed.

Well, not really disappointed, just sad.

But not too sad, more annoyed.

And horny, don’t forget horny.

Actually, she had no idea how she was feeling. She just knew that if Draco and Charlie didn’t get here soon, she was going to start crying again, and she had done that far too many times in the last month and a half to be healthy.

She had sent that letter to Draco, hoping that he would finally see some sense and head off to Charlie’s and make up with him.

But here she was, two days later, and had heard nothing from either of the boys.

Charlie’s birthday had come and gone and she hadn’t seen hide or hair of either of her gorgeous—if not annoying—lovers.

She had tried owling them, but neither of them had replied so far, and she was getting more and more depressed with every breath. She wanted her men back in her life. She wanted them to get along and be happy again. She wanted Charlie to stop being such a child, and wanted Draco to stop acting so superior. She just wanted them back, and if she wasn’t going to get that, then they might as well just skewer her, because she didn’t want to be without them.

Oh! Incarcerous! Mmm, that one might be good for not only punishment but punishment as well…

Well, yes, of course she was still thinking of hexes to perform on their sexy arses.

She could always just hit them both with a cheering charm…

But then they wouldn’t be the amazingly brash and rugged men that she fell in love with.

She couldn’t take much more of this. She needed them back and if they didn’t come back soon, she would…she would…

Oh, she would take them back in a heartbeat no matter how long they fought.

And with that pathetic but absolutely true thought in her head, the flood gates opened and she let loose the tears that had been threatening to fall since her last good cry…which was last night.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

“It’s Christmas Eve, Harry!”

“I know,” he said morosely.

“I mean, Charlie said something about them needing some alone time to talk over some things, but don’t you think that six days is quite long enough!?” Hermione was exasperated.

“Hermione,” Harry said in his best ‘I’m sick of talking about this’ tone of voice. “Just give them a little more time. They were fighting for a month and a half; you can’t expect them to make up in one day.”

“I know…” she said with a sigh. “It’s just…why don’t they want me there? Why do they have to do this alone?”

“Because they were the ones that we fighting,” Harry said. “You weren’t part of the fight, so they aren’t going to drag you into the making up part.”

“But there’s going to be sex,” Hermione whined.

Harry chuckled. “Is that what all this is about?” he asked. He wrapped his arm around her on the sofa and hugged her close to himself. “You know that they’ll still want you when they make up.”

“Harry, I must weigh fifteen stone! They’re going to take one look at me and be sick.”

“Stop exaggerating,” he smiled. “They love you. They loved you the last time you were pregnant, why would they stop now?”

“Because it’s twins this time, I’m fatter. I’ve gained a stone since last month.”

“That’s completely normal, Hermione. Ginny did the same thing with the girls.”

“I know,” she sighed, giving up. “I’m really just complaining for the reason of complaining, but how else am I supposed to pass the time until they come back?”

“Come on, we can go watch Christmas specials. There’s a repeat of ‘Mock the Week’ on and I know you love that programme.”

She gave him a small smile. “You just think I’ve got a crush on Rory Bremner,” she laughed.

“That’s because you do, silly girl,” he smiled and dragged her into the lounge.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

After dinner, Hermione and Harry were on the sofa in the lounge, her lying across the sofa with her feet in Harry’s lap as they watched the telly. Jamie, Harry’s twin girls, and his younger daughter were all lying on the floor in front of the sofa, watching it intently as well. Ginny was in the kitchen cooking up something for pudding.

It was during this relaxing after-dinner time that there was a knock at the door. Harry looked towards the front door and shrugged. “That’s weird. Nobody knocks.”

He pushed Hermione’s feet off of his lap and went to answer the door. When he opened it, he found Draco and Charlie standing there in the cold rain.

“Why didn’t you two come through the floo?”

“We’ll explain later,” Draco said. “Can we come in?”

“Daddy!!” Jamie yelled from the lounge. He ran into the foyer and jumped into his father’s arms. Charlie hugged his son and kissed him on the forehead.

“Were you being a good boy for your mum while I was away?” he asked.

“Mmmhmm!” Jamie smiled. “She was sad but I made a potion that made her happy again.”

Hot Chocolate, Harry mouthed.

Charlie smiled. “That’s my boy.”

“You two are here to tell her that you’ve made up, right? Because if you’re not, then I’m not letting you near her.”

Draco and Charlie looked at each other with a smile. “Yes, we’ve made up.”

“Good, come in then.”

They both walked through the door, Charlie with Jamie in his arms. They found Hermione sitting cross-legged on the sofa with her arms crossed over her pregnant belly. Jamie shimmied out of Charlie’s arms and went back to watching the telly with his cousins. “You two had better be here to grovel,” Hermione said in a severe tone to her boys.

To her surprise, they both dropped down on their knees. They smirked at each other and then smiled back at her.

“We’ll do you one better,” Draco smirked.

A large grin unfolded on Charlie's lips. “Will you marry us, Hermione?”