Authors Note: Harry is a girl named Emma in this. It's an idea that I've had for awhile now, and I just had to write it. Please tell me what you think!
The feeling of butterflies had entered Emma's stomach. 'How on Earth was she going to tell Charlie?' Emma Potter Weasley thought nervously as she gazed into the fire. She knew he would be ecstatic. He was a Weasley, plain and simple. Still, that didn't change the fact that she was, without a doubt, nervous. She had just owled Charlie asking him to come home early that day, telling him that they needed to talk. He was going to be worried though. That morning she had woken up sick, and with Charlie's insistence, had agreed to go visit the healer. As soon as he got that letter, she knew he would assume the worst and come home immediately. That was her Charlie, always concerned about the people he loved. She decided to direct her thoughts to Charlie. Yes she needed a distraction, else she'd drive herself crazy with worry.
There were so many reasons why she loved Charlie. He, like the rest of his family, had that fiery red hair that you could easily spot out in a crowd. However, unlike the rest of his brothers who kept their hair short, and Bill whose hair was still past his shoulders, Charlie kept his hair shaggy. Emma loved the way it curled just past his ears, and she often spent their early mornings watching him sleep and running her fingers through his red locks.
And his eyes, Charlie had the brownest eyes she'd ever seen. When he looked at her, they were always so full of love they made her forget all the troubles in the world. It was just her and her Charlie. They were intense too. You could always tell what he was feeling by looking into his eyes. There were times where she felt like she could look into those eyes forever, and where she could see into his very soul.
His hands. She loved his hands. They were so strong, and were calloused from his years as working as a dragon handler. She was always amazed that the same tough hands that could calm a wild dragon could touch her, and hold her hand so tenderly. And Charlie, oddly enough, was the sort of man who liked to hold hands, and do other displays of affection. Whenever they were at the Burrow, for example, they would always be touching in some way or another, either by holding hands, linking pinkies, or keeping a hand on the small of her back. Emma didn't mind though. After going almost her entire life without being shown any love, she figured that touching her was Charlie's way of reminding her that he was there for her. It may have been a little unnecessary at times, but Emma thought it was very sweet.
Then there was his arms. It amazed her how much she enjoyed laying in his strong arms. They were very strong, of course. He worked with dragons after all. Charlie loved it as well. He seemed to hug her every chance he got. Whether it was after a long day at work or after a round of passion, he would wrap his arms around her waist and pull her close to him. She would respond by laying her head on his chest and wrapping her own arms around him, holding him just as tight. Sometimes they would talk, but for the most part they would stay in comfortable silence.
She loved his freckles. Out of everyone in his family, Charlie had the most freckles, probably from all the time he spent out in the sun on the reserve. Sometimes at night, as they lay in bed together, she would trace the patterns with her fingertips, like a blind woman reading Braille. She knew where every single one was, and never ceased to be surprised by Charlie's skin. It was always warm and soft, like Charlie himself.
That's another thing she loved about him. Charlie was laid back, a friendly person that people always wanted to be around. Yet he did have that famous Weasley temper, only it took alot to ignite it. He must have taken after his father in that regard. Unless it was about her. Charlie was so overprotective, and this, something that most girls would find annoying or insulting, was sweet to her. She still remembered an order meeting, not long after they had first got together, where Snape said something cruel about her and how her loved ones all seemed to die because of her, This had nearly brought her to tears. But Charlie had jumped right on him, literally. It took the combined efforts of Arthur and Bill to get him off of Snape. Needless to say Emma hadn't been bothered by the potions master again. He was her knight in shinning armor, as both she and the twins liked to teasingly call him.
"Emma?" Her husbands voice broke her out of her thoughts. She looked up into the concerned face of her husband of three years and smiled. "What were you thinking about? You looked like you were miles away," he asked, settling down next to her on the couch she was currently resting on.
"You," she answered simply curling up into his side, his arm snaking around her waist. He raised his eyebrows but didn't comment any further. After a few minutes of silence, he asks quietly "Did you go see the healer?"
"I did." She replied just as quiet. She was still nervous. Sure, thinking of Charlie was nice and all, and it had kept her distracted for awhile, but that time for evaluating her husband was over. It was now or never. Well, no. Not now. He would probably ask her again, and then she would tell him. Yes, she could procrastinate a little bit longer. After a few more minutes she heard,
"Are you going to tell me what he said?" There was a small trace of impatience in his voice, mixed with concern. It was barely there, but she knew him well enough to know that it was. There was no point in worrying him any further. Procrastination over. She sighed and nodded, turning so that she was facing him. How should she say it? Bluntly would probably be the best way.
"Charlie," she said softly, her own emerald eyes meeting his brown gaze, "I'm pregnant. We're going to have a baby." Charlie's eyes widened in surprise for a moment before being filled with a different emotion.
"A baby?" He repeated happily. She nodded at him smiling. He grinned widely before pulling her into an excited embrace, standing up and twirling her around in joy. She laughed at his reaction. She knew she had had no reason to be nervous. "We're going to have a baby!" Charlie kept repeating to himself, as if in disbelief. Without warning he leaned down and gave her the most loving, yet hearty kiss she could remember before hugging her again. She laughed once more.
That night as they lay in bed Emma was completely relaxed. She had told Charlie the good news, he'd been extremely happy, everything was just fine, and right now she was content with running her fingers up and down the arm Charlie had thrown, rather protectively she noted with amusement, over her stomach. That is, until Charlie pointed out in the darkness of the room, "You know, we've got to tell the family about this. Mum will be over the roof when she finds out that she's going to finally get her first grandchild." Emma froze.
The familiar feeling of butterflies entered her stomach.