“You want me to what?”

“Have our baby,” Ron replied casually, as if he’d just mentioned that it was going to rain or asked her to pass the potatoes.

Hermione knew she was gaping at him, was fully aware that her mouth was hanging open in a very unattractive way, but she didn’t care. Well, until Malfoy snickered, an action that earned him a Glare of Doom, which only resulted in him smiling smugly. She gave up on dealing with Malfoy at the moment to focus her attention back on Ron: Ron who was eating his sausage like he hadn’t just shocked her for the first time, well, ever.

“Very funny,” she finally said after she logically worked through everything and determined that it was just a joke. Ron’s sense of humor didn’t tend to run to things like this, but it was probably Malfoy’s influence.

“What’s funny?” Ron asked as he glanced at Malfoy as if to say ‘I don’t understand’.

“I think she’s going crazy,” Malfoy drawled in a lazy obnoxious voice that never failed to get under her skin. He smirked suddenly. “Well, crazier than usual.”

“Bugger off,” she muttered as she forgot for a moment that she was a mature woman of twenty-five to sneer at him. Under normal circumstances, she didn’t mind Malfoy. For some odd reason, he made Ron happy so she could accept just about anyone who did that because she loved Ron. He’d been Ron’s lover for nearly six years, after all, so she’d grown accustomed to him, even if he still had the annoying ability to frustrate her and make her angry with just a smirk. Tonight, however, she wished that he’d just go away.

“Play nice, kids,” Ron warned with a grin, always pleased when he got to play referee between her and Malfoy because he knew it wasn’t often that he could scold her.

“This isn’t funny,” Hermione finally said as she pushed her plate away and crossed her arms over her chest.

“I thought you just said it was very funny,” Malfoy reminded in a smug tone. “Really, Granger, why don’t you decide?”

“Draco.” The one word from Ron was enough of a warning for Malfoy to roll his eyes but be good. “Hermione, what’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” she repeated as she, once again, gaped at him. “You just asked me to have your baby, Ronald, before you asked me to pass the rolls!”

“Should I have waited until after dinner?” he asked Malfoy with a worried look.

“Well, you’ve never been known for being subtle,” Malfoy murmured with a lazy smile. “I think you surprised her, is all. That’s why her knickers are in a twist.”

“Leave my knickers out of this,” she hissed as she ran her hand through her hair and looked at Ron. “I think I should go. I don’t find any of this amusing.”

“We want to leave your knickers out of it,” Malfoy pointed out helpfully. “It’s rather difficult to make a baby with knickers in the way, after all.”

“You, shut up!” Hermione told him firmly.

“Hermione, calm down,” Ron tried again. “Here, let me get you some cake. It’s chocolate! You like chocolate, right?”

“I don’t want any cake. I just want to go home,” she whined before she cringed at the realization that she was, indeed, whining. She didn’t whine! Maybe this was some weird alternate reality or just a really bad dream. She had had enchiladas for dinner the previous night, after all, and Mexican food tended to give her weird dreams.

“Draco, help,” Ron said as he looked lost and confused.

“I would but the shrew said I had to shut up. You did say that I needed to try to actually listen to her more often, if you recall.”

“Real good time for you to start actually listening to me,” Ron grumbled as he focused on her again. “Uh, Hermione, you see, well, I think I’ve botched this up terribly.”

“You think?” Malfoy offered in support.

“We were going to wait until after dinner, and possibly a few glasses of wine,” Ron admitted as he ignored Malfoy, which earned a smirk from Hermione in the direction of the prat.

“We want to have a baby,” Malfoy interrupted as he met her gaze and arched a brow. “We’ve decided, after much deliberation, that you should be its mother. Of course, you’re probably shocked at being chosen for such an honor so take a few moments to pinch yourself or squee or whatever it is you birds do when you’re excited, and then we can make arrangements. When are you most fertile?”

“Draco!” Ron squeaked as he turned red and avoided looking at Hermione.

“What? You think your stammering uh-um is going to get the point across? This is Granger, Ron. She wants facts, logical and honest, not a bunch of uh-um and flushed cheeks, even if you are rather adorable when you’re embarrassed.”

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” Hermione felt herself gaping again as she looked from one to the other.

“Do you really think we’d bring this up if we weren’t?” Malfoy asked matter-of-factly. “Trust me when I say this is high on experiences I never want to relive.”

“He’s right,” Ron spoke up as he met her gaze and smiled sheepishly. “Not on the reliving part, but on the rest. We want to have a family, Hermione, and we’d like you to be part of it.”

“I can’t,” she whispered as she looked away from him. “You can’t ask me to do this, Ron.”

“I can’t ask anyone else,” he said softly. She glanced up and saw him look at Malfoy, realized they were holding hands and sighed as she focused on anything but their joined hands. “I love you, Hermione.”

“Not enough,” she reminded him softly, looking pointedly at their hands before she met his gaze. “Remember? You wanted something else, someone else.”

“You said you understood,” he murmured quietly. “We weren’t together when Draco and I started our relationship. You wanted a break after the war, thought everything was going too fast and didn’t know what you wanted, and I waited for months for you to decide, Hermione. It was only after you said you weren’t ready that I even considered the idea that maybe I wasn’t either.”

“You found someone else, Ron. God, why are we even having this conversation? You’re gay,” she said as she put her hands over her face and groaned. This was not how she had expected to spend dinner. She’d thought it would be a nice meal with one of her best friends and his boyfriend, an event that happened every other week over the last few years. She didn’t plan on dinner becoming this serious.

“Just because he loves me doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you or that he’s not attracted to women, Granger,” Malfoy said in a tone that lacked its usual smugness. He sounded sincere, which was oddly disconcerting but also welcome considering this bizarre dinner. “The same way that my loving him doesn’t mean I don’t miss groping a nice set of tits or tasting a wet cunt.”

“It seems that Ron’s vulgarity has rubbed off on you, Malfoy,” she muttered as she forgot about appreciating his honesty and scowled at him even as her cheeks flushed from that sudden change in conversation.

“You’re not helping, Draco,” Ron told him as he tapped his fingers nervously on the table.

“Granger, just say yes.” Malfoy sighed. “There is no list. You’re it: the only woman we both agreed upon when we thought about the future mother of our child. You’re smart, reasonably attractive, and ambitious. Besides that, you’ve got great tits.”

“You’d better watch it, Malfoy, or someone might think you’re actually giving me a compliment,” she warned as she realized that his saying she had great tits was probably the nicest thing he’d ever said directly to her. She groaned again and ran her hands through her hair before she shook her head. “I’m getting a headache.”

Ron groaned before he stood up and walked around the table until he was beside her. She looked up at him and her eyes widened when he pulled her out of the chair. He lowered his head and brushed his lips against hers, soft and hesitant before her lips parted and the kiss deepened. Hermione started to step back but found her path blocked by a hard body. Lips brushed over her neck before teeth nibbled on her ear. She gasped when she felt hands squeezing her breasts and heard Malfoy chuckle as he tightened his grip.

“He’s always much better with showing instead of telling,” Malfoy murmured against her ear before he pressed her closer to Ron, who was kissing her passionately in a way their other kisses had always somewhat lacked. “I suggested we trying discussing it like adults but I should have known you’d not shut up long enough to actually listen.”

Ron pulled back after another kiss and touched her cheek. “Say yes, Hermione,” he whispered before he moved his hand beneath her skirt, his calloused fingers trailing up her thigh until he reached her knickers, which were becoming damp as she was caught between her ex-lover and his boyfriend.

“I need to think,” she stammered as she tried to get away. Their arms kept her in place, though, and four hands began to move all over her until thinking was the last thing on her mind.

“At least that’s not a definite no,” Ron said with a wide grin as he looked over her shoulder. He leaned forward and kissed Malfoy right beside her, and she whimpered as she watched, pressing against the fingers that were now lightly stroking her through her knickers.

“Should have known that Granger would have to think,” Malfoy drawled in that smug tone that caused her to shudder in something far different than annoyance. He pushed the dinner plates out of the way and sat on the table before he pulled her up to sit between his legs as Ron knelt on the floor and pulled his shirt over his head before he moved forward. Malfoy’s hands squeezed her breasts as he licked her neck while they both watched Ron.

Ron looked up at them and smiled mischievously as he pushed her skirt up. “Well, then, I say we give her something to think about.”

End