Accidental Babies

A.N: It's important to note that I have never, ever written this ship before, and that I am still a hardcore canon shipper. But this just demanded to get out! Also, the song belongs to Damien Rice.

Well I held you like a lover,
Happy hands and your elbow in the appropriate place

And we ignored our others, happy plans
For that delicate look upon your face

"Are you okay?"

His voice floats across the bitter wind to me, and suddenly, I'm not so cold. I brush a tear away from underneath my eye, and try my best to put a smile on. I'm not like this; I'm not weak. I'm not.

I turn to face him, a small smile coming to my lips as I look at him standing awkwardly before me, hands tucked in his pockets casually, still in many ways the nervous young boy that I remember. He offers me a smile back, moving forward then, wrapping his arms around me quickly. I lean in to him, trying my hardest not to start sobbing again, keeping my eyes shut in order to stay strong. And though I know he's not really comfortable in this moment, awkward as ever, but I can't let him go.

"Don't leave me," I whisper, breathing in his scent. I don't ever want to let go.

His arms stiffen, and attempt to disengage from mine. Against all reason, I hang on. "I can't- we can't-" he starts, though there is something in his voice that fights with him too, I can tell. Those with a troubled conscience can always recognize another that shares their plight.

"Pleaseā€¦" I whisper, finally looking up at him and meeting his eyes. He stares down into mine then, and gently brushes a tear away from my cheek.

"It's wrong," he states, but there's no fight in him, no argument at all.

"I know it is," I murmur, and though I mean it, I can't help but give in.

He crushes his mouth against mine, and the wind wraps around us as we fall the ground in a crumpled heap.

Do you come
Together ever with him?
And is he dark enough?
Enough to see your light?
And do you brush your teeth before you kiss?
Do you miss my smell?
And is he bold enough to take you on?
Do you feel like you belong?
And does he drive you wild?
Or just mildly free?
What about me?

It went on for forever, it seemed. Excuses to the family, lies to cover up more lies, sins performed in the dark and cramped spaces that were our fate. We weren't stupid: we knew that we were only hurting those who loved us, and that we could never be together, but neither of us wanted to stop. For a single moment, when he brushed the hair out of my eyes as we lay together in the secretive dark, I knew why I had come to him. I knew why, even though we were happy in our other lives, we came together like this, stolen moments that could only lead to pain.

"It can't go on, you know," I say to him, lying in his arms once more.

He sighs, but it's him conceding to me, in his own way. "It could," he murmurs hopefully, but even inside it's a dead hope, a wish that will never come true.

"It's hard for me," I begin, wrapping my hand around his, "to lie to him. I love him, I really do." I crane my neck up to look at him, waiting for a reaction.

He smiles sadly, gazing down into my eyes. "I know you do, darling. Just like I love her."

I chuckle to myself, a harsh sound in the quiet air. "Then why do we do this? Why do we torture ourselves with things we can't have?"

He laughs too, but it's a dark laugh and something in it frightens me, reminding me that the boy I knew is slowly fading away inside of him, a victim from the Second War. "Human nature, darling. It's just human nature."

His hand slides out from between my own, and reality fills the hole between us.

Well I know I make you cry
And I know sometimes you wanna die
But do you really feel alive without me?
If so, be free
If not, leave him for me
Before one of us has accidental babies
For we are in love

It was going to happen. It was a certainty, something we couldn't hide from, no matter how hard we tried. I met him in the courtyard once more, where everything had started so long ago.

"Did he tell you?" I ask timidly, much unlike myself.

The redness in his eyes confirms it for me. "Yeah, yeah he did."

I look down then, watching a as a leaf is torn away from the tree, caught in the turbulent wind. Winds of change? How cheesy can this get?

"I want- I feel I should say I'm sorry," I start, soldiering on despite myself, "but I'm not." I force my eyes to meet his. "I'm not sorry, not for anything. It had to end, somehow."

"I know that," he whispers, "I know." The pain in his eyes is harsh, but there is resolve there too, just like I knew there would be.

"Do you regret it?" he asks softly, as if he was afraid of the answer.

I smile to myself, and I know the truth in my heart. "Never," I murmur, taking his hand into mine. He grins back, and raises a cautious hand to my abdomen.

"May I?" he asks nervously, and the boy I knew is still in there somewhere, buried deep down where only innocence can reach.

"Of course," I say, still smiling. He touches my stomach, knowing what lies inside. A new future and a new path, but not for us, never for us.

"He's so happy about this, darling," he says, pulling his hand away and looking into my eyes once more. "He'll make a great father."

It's the truth, and we both know it. "I know he will," I whisper.

The question I know he wants to ask is in his eyes, but I can't answer him. I can't answer him, because I honestly don't know. It's killing him, I can see it in his eyes, the fact that there is. "I just don't know," I say aloud, though it kills me to admit it, "I don't know if it is yours or not. I'm so sorry for that," I tell him, and I mean it with all my soul. For it won't matter to Ron: he doesn't even realize that I haven't been faithful. It won't matter to me either, because it's still my child. But for him... it will torture him, not knowing whether the child he will hold in his arms is his nephew or his son.

He nods, acknowledging the painful realization, and makes his way back into the house, broken inside. It's over.

But as he leaves, throwing a glance back to me as he heads back inside, I can't help the tear that slides down my cheek, crying for the life I'll never have. For as much as I love Ron, he can never give me the liberty, the freedom that Harry brought me. And as much as I fight it, I can't help the cold feeling that sinks into my heart as I watch him go.

"I love you," I call weakly to his retreating figure.

The powerful and eternal wind, however, pulls my words away into its abyss, losing them forever.

Do you come
Together ever with him?
Is he dark enough?
Enough to see your light?
Do you brush your teeth before you kiss?
Do you miss my smell?
And is he bold enough to take you on?
Do you feel like you belong?
And does he drive you wild?
Or just mildly free?