[identity profile] hp-bito-mod.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] hp_bunintheoven
Title: Moments in Time
Author/Artist: [livejournal.com profile] themightyflynn
Pairing(s): Ron Weasley/Viktor Krum
Prompt: #A65
Summary: Our lives are defined by small moments. Some are of shock, pleasure, joy, or even sorrow. Ron Weasley’s life was defined by these same emotional moments during his pregnancy.
Word Count: 8536
Rating: NC-17
Warnings/Contains: Dub-con, drunk!sex, wanking, language.
Notes: This fic is written as a series of drabbles and mini fics showing Ron’s journey through his pregnancy. [livejournal.com profile] imera, this is probably a strange way to answer your prompt, but I hope you like it anyway!
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

Rough hands tugged at the shirt Ron wore, dragging it up and over his head. He could hear the sounds of the Ministry’s annual Beltane party just off behind him, the voices so close as he was stripped naked. Their proximity only added to the sensations rushing through him; the potential of being caught increasing his arousal.

“Fuck me, fuck me…” His words were slurred by the amount of Firewhisky he had consumed earlier in the night, but the growl he received in response told him he had been understood. “Fuck me…”

“Not yet.”

Ron’s head fell back against the wall behind him as a hot mouth latched onto his left nipple. His hands flew up to tangle through long hair, gripping tight enough to pull several strands out.

“Please, oh please…”

His hips bucked, but there was no friction. Whining, he pressed into the mouth instead, drawing as much pleasure as he could from what little he was being allowed. Thick, slightly calloused fingers reached up to pinch his other nipple harshly, adding a sharp jab of pain to his pleasure.


The loss of the hot mouth caused Ron to groan, but his complaint didn’t last long. A thump in front of him drew Ron’s attention down to the floor where he caught a quick glimpse of unfocussed dark eyes in a reflection of light from the hall. The look they held had him groaning for a completely different reason.

“You want this.”

Please… Oh!” Ron’s hips thrust forward as his aching prick was engulfed by the hot mouth that had just left his nipple. “Oh, ohh, yessss.”

Tightening his grip on the long strands of hair, he began to move. Teeth brushed briefly across the sensitive underside of his cock, but he found the pain only increased his pleasure. Even if he had wanted to, Ron couldn’t have stopped right then anyway. Either the blissful sucking sensation around his cock was causing the room to spin wildly around him, or it was the amount of alcohol running through his veins, but he couldn’t care which it was. The light-headedness seemed to only add to the sensations. It wasn’t long before he was groaning with each breath, his hips beginning to stutter as he neared orgasm.

“Fuck… Fuck… Gonna… I’m gonna…”

His words were cut off by a long, drawn-out moan. His hips thrust in little jerks as he emptied himself into the willing mouth that continued to suck even after he had finished. His breath coming in harsh gasps, Ron closed his eyes to stop the room from spinning around him as he fell to his knees. He was caught by a pair of strong arms that wrapped around him, dragging him to an equally strong chest. The press of a hard cock against his thigh caused Ron to groan. His hand went automatically to touch; to squeeze.

“I will fuck you now.”


Ron allowed himself to be manoeuvred onto his front on the floor. The rough hands were running all over him again, pinching his now overly-sensitised nipples, and stroking his deflated cock. Re-opening his eyes proved to be a mistake, as the room hadn’t yet stopped spinning around him. He let out a groan when he felt the preparation charms washing over him.

“You want to be fucked.”

“Yes.” Ron raised his hips in response, offering himself to the man behind him.

“You need to be fucked.”


“Tell me.”

Ron groaned again as the hands reached around to tug on his cock. Slurring nearly incoherently, he began to beg. “I need you. Please, I need this. I – ohh, oh, please…” The hand on his cock slipped further around to press against his perineum, causing Ron’s hips to jerk. “Please fuck me; I need to feel you inside me.”

Folding his arms beneath his head, he arched his back just enough so he could feel the press of a hard cock against his cheeks. That seemed to be all the encouragement the man needed. Ron’s breath hitched on a gasp the second he was breached. The man was thick and hard and just fucking perfect. Pressing back so he could take more earned Ron a deep chuckle.

“You need this.” Alcohol-tainted breath washed over Ron’s face as the man lay on top of him. “You need to be fucked.”

“Yes, yes… Please.”

It was the last coherent thing Ron managed for the next few minutes. Pleasure rushed through him as the thick cock in his arse drew pleasure out of him that he hadn’t felt in too long. He re-opened his eyes, enjoying the light-headedness that came with the spinning of the room now that it was combined with the sharp jabs of pleasure of having his prostate hit with every other thrust. Working his hand beneath him, he jerked himself off as the man thrust into him, groaning louder as he neared his second orgasm. When he tipped over the edge again, it was with a series of jumbled sounds.

“I – I…”

The man froze above him and let out a loud moan before collapsing down on top of him. It was with little aftershocks jabbing at him that Ron lost consciousness, the man’s heavy weight pressing him into the floor.


“Congratulations, Mr. Weasley; you are pregnant.”

Ron let out a small laugh, sure the Healer was joking. When the Healer didn’t join in, Ron became aware of a rushing sensation in his stomach before a sharp pain in the back of his head. Pitch blackness overtook him shortly after.

When he next became aware of his surroundings, he appeared to be lying down with a bright light shining in his face. Clearly, he must have been having a dream. There could be no possible way that he was pregnant: you had to actually manage to get laid to get knocked up! He blinked, trying to work out where he was and why the light was so bright.

“Ron? Ron! Oh, my gosh, he’s awake!”

The sound of his mother’s excited and slightly nervous voice drew his attention to his right. Before he could work out which room he was in, a flurry of multi-coloured shawls engulfed him.

“Oh, Ron, we were so worried!” Molly’s flowery perfume overwhelmed Ron for a few seconds as she embraced him. “How are you?”

There was a concerned tone to her voice that had Ron frowning. Surely that pregnancy thing had been a dream, right? No, there must have been something else that had his mother in worried-mode. Scrubbing a hand across his eyes, he sat up.

“Yeah, yeah, mum, I’m fine. I… I think I was having a really weird dream, though.”

“I am afraid it was no dream, Mr. Weasley.” Ron’s hand fell to his lap as his head shot up to meet the eyes of a neat-looking Healer. “You are pregnant. Almost four months along, in fact.”


“You are currently in St. Mungo’s hospital, as when you were informed of your impending parenthood the first time, you fainted and hit your head on the bench behind you.”

Ron blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of what he was hearing. “Pregnant?”




He paused. “Are you sure? I mean, are you absolutely one hundred percent sure? You couldn’t just be reading the stats from, say, the girl in the next room?”

The Healer offered him a small smile. “I assure you, Mr. Weasley, there can be no mistake. I can show you the charm results yourself, if you wish.”

Ron’s eyes flicked between the Healer and his mother, who had backed up to stand beside the one chair that had been allowed in the tiny room. She nodded and smiled at him encouragingly.

“It’s alright, Ron; it doesn’t hurt.”

Ron had to resist the urge to shake his head. It wasn’t pain he was worried about, it was that this Healer had clearly been reading the wrong chart! He knew that men could get pregnant, but there had to be a very special set of circumstances for that to happen. Like actually having sex, for one thing! But Molly was standing and staring at him with such hope in her eyes that he couldn’t turn the offer down, even if it was only to prove the Healer wrong.

“Okay, where are they?” He held his hand out, but the Healer shook his head.

“Lie back and raise your shirt, please.”

Having to resist the urge to roll his eyes, Ron did as he was asked without any objection. Surely, if this man was going to do the charm live, there could be no way possible that it could be incorrect. The Healer stepped up to the bed once Ron was settled again, waved his wand over Ron’s prone form and mumbled a few words. Panic rushed through Ron’s chest when a projection of what looked to be a black cloud began to hover over his stomach. He scrambled backwards up the bed, shoving his shirt down in his panic.

“What the bloody hell was that?”

“It’s the charm used to tell whether someone is pregnant or not,” Healer explained in a tone that would be much better suited to being used on a tantrum-throwing toddler. “Now, if you could lie back down, please, I shall continue.”

Ron’s eyes flicked back to his mother, who gave him another encouraging smile. This time, he did roll his eyes as he lay back down and lifted his shirt. When the black cloud appeared the second time, Molly let out a small sound that had Ron glancing over to her.


“Oh, Ron. We’ve hoped for so long…”

“‘Hoped’? Hoped for what?” Ron could feel his chest compressing with panic over what this could mean, so being able to focus on his mother’s words instead was a welcome relief. “Mum?”

“You’ve been alone for so long, Ron. Whoever the father is, you know we’re more than happy to welcome him into our family.”

Fear clammed Ron’s skin. Father? A quick glance to the Healer gave him his answer.

“Here, allow me to explain.” He waved his finger in the general area of the dark mass. “This is the magically-formed uterus inside you.” His finger stopped above a small lump a slightly different shade of dark than the rest. “This is the baby growing inside you. Judging from its size and relative position, I would say you became pregnant roughly four months ago.” When all Ron did was stare at the black mass, the Healer cleared his throat. “Perhaps around Beltane?” he prompted.

“Beltane,” Ron repeated.

He didn’t remember too much about his Beltane celebrations this year. He knew for a fact that he had planned on going to the Ministry party, but that he had stopped in at George and Angelina’s for a few drinks first. A few drinks must have turned into a lot more than he had intended, because the Ministry party was only fragmented in his memory at best. Frankly, he had gotten shitfaced.

“I… I, uh…”

“I understand that this may come as a surprise to you, Mr. Weasley. Please, take all the time you need while you are here. I’ll leave the two of you alone, but if you have any questions, don’t hesitate to call.”

Ron just sat and stared blankly at the space where the charm had formed above his stomach. Pregnant. He was pregnant. He was pregnant. Pregnant? No matter how his mind threw the phrase or the idea at him, it seemed totally unbelievable. He was safe! He was cautious! He was absolutely fucking certain that he hadn’t had sex for nearly a full bloody year! Turning when he heard a small sound off to his right, he let out a breath that he hadn’t realised he had been holding.


“Oh, my Ronnie!”

Stepping up to the bed, she wrapped him in another flower-scented embrace. This time, however, she just held him rather than seeming to check on him. Soft words that held no meaning were whispered in his ear as she rocked gently back and forth, one of her hands rubbing slow circles on his back.

“It will all be alright, Ron. You know your family will stand behind you, no matter what.”

It was then that his situation really hit him. Wrapping his arms around his mother’s shoulders as she leant down, he let out a shaky breath. “Mum, I – I…”

“Shh, it’s okay. It will all work out fine, I promise.”


“So, who was he?”

Ron’s head landed on the table in front of him with a loud thunk, causing Harry to chuckle. He had been asking himself the exact same thing ever since he had discovered his surprise pregnancy the previous month. Now that he was almost five months along, he was kind of getting sick of being interrogated.

“I don’t know.” There was a slight groan to his voice. “I swear, if I knew, I would have told my mother every single one of the million times she has asked me over the past month.”

Harry laughed in response, thankfully. It had been a hell of an adjustment, getting used to the idea of being pregnant. Ron thought he was doing quite a good job of it, though, even if he did say so himself. But being interrogated wasn’t the reason he was up at the ungodly hour of 7am on a Sunday to have breakfast with Harry. Raising his head from the table, he glanced around, checking to see whether Harry and Luna’s three kids were anywhere around. When he saw not a sign of them, he breathed a sigh of relief. The reason he was there with Harry on their own required a little more concentration than either of them were capable of with the three kids running around.

“So.” Ron shifted a little closer to the table, more to give himself a little more thinking time than anything else.


“I, uh, I wanted to ask you something. Something important.”

Harry’s cutlery clattered as he placed it on the plate. “Is everything alright?”

“Oh, yeah, yeah, everything’s fine. It’s not, uh, not something bad.” Taking a deep breath, Ron sat up straighter. “I, uh, I was thinking about the future the other day and… Well, I know that the baby will be well looked after if anything ever happens to me, but I wanted to make absolutely sure.”

“Ron?” There was concern in Harry’s voice as well as a deep crease between his eyebrows. “What are you–”

“Harry, I want you to be Godfather,” Ron blurted out over the top of what Harry was trying to ask.

His outburst was met by silence. Ron’s stomach flipped with nerves as Harry blinked at him.


“Of course I’ll be the Godfather, you twit!”

Ron began to become aware of an ache in chest just before he released a deep breath he had apparently been holding. Sagging down into his chair, he grinned.

“What were you so worried about?”

Ron shrugged. “I have no idea, honestly. Is it possible there’s hormones going on somewhere in here?” His smile widened as he rubbed his hand over his belly. “Whoever this little one is, they’re making me paranoid.”


Ex-War Hero Pregnant!

Ronald Weasley In Unmarried Pregnancy Scandal!

Ex-Auror Knocked Up!

Who Is The Father?

Ron sighed as the headlines practically screamed at him. He had had no other choice than to announce his pregnancy, as it had become way too difficult to continue hiding it. Leaning back against his pillows, he sighed.

“Well, bub, this is it. Everyone knows about you now.”

A jab to his ribs was the baby’s response. Rubbing his hand along the bottom of his belly – which by now was big enough that there could be no mistaking it for anything other than a baby – Ron smiled.

“Good to know someone is happy about this.”

Truth be told, Ron had considered and re-considered doing this. His parents, of course, had been supportive of him the entire way. He had weighed the option of leaving, giving birth, then adopting it out before returning to England. He had thought about the reaction of his family, friends, and even the press if he stayed in England during the pregnancy and then decided to adopt the child out. He had even considered – for roughly twenty-four hours – the option of termination. He knew he could never do something like that, though. So, that had left him with three options: run away and adopt, stay and adopt, or stay and raise the child himself. In the end, he knew that he had known what he was going to do from the very beginning. This baby was his and there was no way he was going to just give it up for someone else to raise. Shifting in his bed, he grunted when the baby kicked him again.

“Bub, my life would be so much easier if you would stop trying to beat me up.”

Staring down at the top headline – Who Is The Father? – Ron sighed again. He knew that what would really make his life easier was an answer to that question. His problem, however, was that no matter what he tried, there was simply no memory of that night. He guessed that he could have the baby’s genes tested once it was born, but without something else to test them against, how could he possibly know who he had been with that night? Glancing down at his pyjama-clad belly, he let out a deep breath as a sense of melancholy trailed through him.

“Bub?” He rubbed his hand along the bottom of his belly again, hoping to prompt another kick. “Do you think it will really make a difference?”

His family and friends had, of course, stood with him during this whole process. Not that he had been worried about being abandoned, but… He sighed. Out of all the people he knew, he was probably the last one anyone would have thought would end up as a single parent. No matter who he slept with – male or female – he was careful; always had been. His own large family was an example of what could happen when you didn’t use protection, and his siblings just kept adding to the amount of Weasley children running around. At last count, Molly and Arthur had ten grandchildren, and that wasn’t counting Hermione’s two with the Australian wizard she had met on holiday to see her parents, or Harry’s three with Luna.

“Bub? What do you think? Can we do this on our own?” When the baby kicked at him again, Ron smiled. “Just the two of us.”

Giving bub one last pat, he shoved the offending papers off his bed and snuggled down beneath the covers again. One of the bonuses of being on his own, he figured, was that there was no one nagging him to get up and get dressed of a weekend. Determinedly closing his eyes, he tried to shove the sense of sorrow that snaked through him to the back of his mind.


Ron entered the small hall of his flat a minute or so in front of Harry, who had insisted that he had to carry all the heavy bags of groceries. He knew that this was his mother’s influence, but found that, at eight months along, he couldn’t bring himself to object. Picking up his mail from the hall stand, he ripped into the first envelope without glancing at the address.

I know I left, but you left it up to Charlie to tell me that you are with child. My child. How could you? Were you ever going to tell me?

Or perhaps this is a regular occurrence for you? Perhaps you search people out at official functions and beg them for sex all the time? You said you had been looking for me specifically. That you had wanted me for a long time, but had never known how to tell me. And I believed you. I never thought myself to be that much of a fool until Charlie told me that you are pregnant.

I want to see you. We need to talk about this.


Panic and nausea clawed at Ron’s throat. He tried to take deep breaths – just as his Healer had instructed him to – but ended up hyperventilating instead. Placing one hand on his belly, he leant forward, trying to force himself to calm down; to stop his heart from racing. It wasn’t happening, though. The emotions rushing through him flicked from panic, to fear and back again so quickly that his head began to spin with it all. Leaning forward even further, he wrapped his arm securely around bub and squeezed his eyes shut tight.

“Ron? Ron! What–”

Ron cut Harry’s questions off by shoving the letter at him. Still leaning forward with his arm wrapped around his middle, there was no chance that he was going to be able to speak.

“Alright, alright, come on. Let’s get you to the living room.”

It took them a few minutes, but by the time they managed to get down the hallway, Ron’s breathing had evened out a little. He still felt sick to his stomach and was still – embarrassingly enough – leaning on Harry to be able to walk straight, but he had stopped hyperventilating.

“I’ll call your mum.”

“No, wait.”

Harry raised an eyebrow at him when Ron grasped one of his arms. Ron’s hands still shook a little, causing him to clench his free hand in an automatic attempt to stop them. He took a deep breath – a proper deep breath this time – as he sank down onto his comfortable lounge.

“Viktor, Harry; it says Viktor.”

Harry hesitated, but eventually turned from the floo to sit gingerly next to Ron on the lounge. “Yeah?”

“Viktor Krum.”

“Er, yeah, I would assume that that is who ‘Viktor’ is.”

Ron still hadn’t unwrapped his arm from around his belly. It gave him such a sense of comfort that he knew he would be unable to remove it, even if he had wanted to. Glancing over to where Harry sat next to him, his eyebrows drawn together in concern, Ron nodded.

“I…” Shaking his head, he paused to gather his thoughts. “Viktor Krum, Harry. I–” He cut himself off with a sigh and threw his head back so it bounced off the back of the lounge. “I really have had an enormous crush on him since we were teenagers.”

Harry chuckled. “Yeah, I kind of figured that out when it first happened.”

“Well…” Sighing, Ron shoved himself back up into a sitting position, unable to stay still for very long with the strange mix of emotions running through him. “Do you think it’s possible that this could be real?”

“Er… Well, I – er, I don’t know?” When Ron raised his eyebrows at him, Harry grinned. “Sorry. I’m not the best at this kind of thing. That’s what we have Hermione for, right?”

Taking a deep breath, Ron finally loosened his grip around his belly a little. “Yeah, I know. I guess… You know, I think I want to leave telling mum for a little while. Just, I don’t know, just give myself a bit of time to adjust to the idea myself before releasing her on him. I mean, if this Viktor isn’t even Viktor Krum, then telling mum it is could be… Well.”

Harry’s responding laugh helped Ron to relax a little more. He had a lot to think about, so it was nice to know that he could count on his best friend to keep secrets like this for him.


Leaning back against his pillows, Ron sighed. His right leg was spread in front of him, with the left bent at the knee, tilting him to his right a little. It wasn’t the most comfortable position to be in, with the weight of the baby pressing on him, but it was better than any of the other positions he had tried. His breath shuddered through him as he got a good grip on himself and tugged. Images flew through his mind – both men and women he found attractive – but there was one image in particular that always stuck in his mind: Viktor Krum in his flying leathers walking out of the stadium during one of the World Cups.

Over the past few days since he had received the letter claiming to be from ‘Viktor’, Ron’s hormones had been going insane. He had been in touch with Charlie, who had admitted to telling Krum that Ron was pregnant, but who also swore that he had no idea about the rest of the situation Ron found himself in. Even the idea that Viktor Krum remembered him from the small number of times they had seen each other since Bill and Fleur’s wedding sent need coursing through him. He hadn’t lied to Harry when he had admitted to having had a crush on the man since his teenage years and this was the result: lying on his side trying to satisfy the waves of need that were coursing through him.

“Oh, oh, yeah… Right there…”

Thrusting his hips forward into his hand, Ron tried to picture what Viktor would look like out of those Quidditch leathers. Surely he would be built, right? With big, strong arms, and calloused hands from handling his broom for so long. And those thighs…

“Ungh,” Ron grunted when a jolt of pleasure hit him in the stomach. “Oh, yeah…”

Dipping the fingers of his free hand into the pot of lube sitting beside him on the bed, he slid them down behind himself. The lube was cold at first, but that didn’t stop him. Sliding two fingers down between his cheeks, he groaned. There could be no way possible that Viktor’s cock wasn’t as thick, hard and strong as the rest of him. Pressing backwards, he breached himself easily with one finger before pressing back and taking the second much sooner than he knew he probably should have. The burn of having two fingers inside him so suddenly caused him to groan, but he didn’t remove them. He would adjust, simply because he knew he had to.

“There… There we go…”

Stroking his hand along his flagging erection, he grinned. Being filled from behind and stroked from the front was one of the reasons his preferences ran more towards men than women. Leaning back, he let out a soft moan when his cheeks met his knuckles. He lay still for a few seconds, stroking his hand slowly along his cock while he adjusted to the sensation.

“Alright, alright…” Bringing up the image of Viktor in his leathers again caused his cock to jump in his hand. “Yes…”

It took a few seconds to get used to the rhythm he needed to make this work in his current condition, but Ron managed it. Stroking his hand along his cock as he wriggled his fingers in his arse, he began by drawing the pleasure out slowly, enjoying the build-up.

“Mmm, yes…”

It wasn’t until he hooked his fingers towards his prostate that Ron began to really work. His stomach muscles clenched as pleasure shot through him, pooling in his groin. The hand on his cock spasmed each time he pressed against his prostate, squeezing his cock and adding to the pleasure.

“Viktor…” The word was whispered as images of rough hands and strong thighs flashed through Ron’s mind. “Gods…”

His hips stuttered the next time he pressed his prostate. Still, he pressed forward, reaching for orgasm now with each breath. One last press was all he needed before tipping over the edge, cursing and groaning as he spilled his release all over his belly. In the minute or so he knew he had before he succumbed to sleep, he cast a cleaning charm over himself and snuggled down beneath the covers, a sense of deep satisfaction running through him.


As first meetings after getting accidentally knocked up went, Ron figured this had to be on the more awkward side of things. Using Charlie as their mutual contact, he had gotten in touch with Viktor and they had arranged to meet at Ron’s London flat a little after the eight-month mark of his pregnancy. The reasoning behind it had been simple: they didn’t want to attract any speculation. What Ron hadn’t counted on, however, was the fact that, beyond the Triwizard Tournament and Bill and Fleur’s wedding, they had had very little contact and therefore, very little to talk about. At least, very little that they both remembered. For them to be thrown together again by something like a pregnancy made things a bit more difficult than they would have been if they were meeting under normal circumstances.

“So,” Ron began after Viktor had settled himself on one of the soft armchairs in his living room. “How have you been?”

Viktor was an imposing presence. With his long, dark hair, his equally dark eyes, and what seemed to be a permanent five o’clock shadow, Ron could see how people could have been intimidated by his mere proximity. Viktor’s eyes flicked from Ron’s belly up to his face and back again before seeming to settle on a space in the middle ground between them.

“Good. I have been good.”

Well. That was useful. Ron attempted a small smile.

“I, uh, I imagine this would have come as much of a surprise to you as it was to me?”

Viktor shifted in the chair, crossing then uncrossing his legs. Ron watched, trying to get some kind of read on him. It was clear that there was something that he either wanted to do or say, but whether that something boded well for Ron or not, he couldn’t tell.

“Yes, actually, it was a surprise to discover that the man whom I had slept with on Beltane night was with child.” Ron almost flinched at the cold tone to Viktor’s voice. “Especially considering I had to discover this fact through his brother.”

Alright, well so much for pleasantries. Taking a steadying breath, Ron offered up a small smile.

“I’m sorry. I swear I would have told you the second I realised what was going on, but the thing is, I can’t remember the night.”

There was a small pause. “You cannot remember the night?”

Ron shook his head. “No, I’m sorry. I was drunk and–”

“As was I.” Viktor’s black eyes flashed as he leant forward. “You expect me to believe that? You searched me out. You wound your way through the crowds in that party looking for me; for me in particular!”

Ron sat in his chair, just watching as Viktor spoke. His voice was soft and low, far from the growl that Ron remembered it being from when they had been teenagers. His accent had also improved greatly, making it easier to understand him. However, as he continued to vent what appeared to be weeks of frustration, his true accent began to creep in more and more.

“I sent you that letter telling you that ve need to speak about this. Tell me how I am supposed to believe that you simply cannot remember?”

“I don’t know. I don’t suppose you’re a Legilimens?” The disgusted look that crossed Viktor’s face gave Ron his answer. He bit back a sigh, but couldn’t help shrugging. “Look, I know this is frustrating and that you apparently don’t believe a word I’m saying, but I swear to you that I honestly had no idea who the other father was.”

“And if you had known?”

“What? Do you think I wanted to go through this–” he waved a hand over himself “–all on my own? Who in their right mind would put themselves through a magical pregnancy alone?”

Viktor didn’t respond immediately. Sitting there in the chair, he clenched his hands into fists and released them a few times, still staring into the middle ground between them. It was odd, but Ron was able to read each of the emotions that crossed Viktor’s face; he was completely open. There was a definite touch of anger there, but it wasn’t the overriding emotion. Ron watched closely as Viktor closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then re-opened them. Vulnerability? No, surely not. Viktor released the breath slowly, allowing Ron a few extra seconds to watch him before he spoke.

“I became famous for my Quidditch skills when I was sixteen years old.” Ron frowned at the seemingly random topic, but nodded along anyway. “I am now thirty-six and have been retired from professional Quidditch for years, but there are still people who will… Well, they will try to use me.”

Realisation rushed through Ron, causing him to draw in a deep breath. “You think I want your money?”

Viktor paused again, his lips pressing into a thin line. “This is not something that I wish to have to think about, but it is the reality of my life. There have been others who have…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “But that is of no matter. What matters now is what is in front of us.”

With that, he looked up to meet Ron’s eyes for the first time since arriving in the flat. His hair fell across his forehead, causing him to swipe an irritated hand at it to push it out of the way. His eyes – even more expressive now that Ron could see them properly – hardened with what looked to be determination.

“You are having my baby.”

Ron swallowed audibly as desire flared in him. “Yes.”

“I want to be part of the baby’s life.”

Tension rolled through Ron like a wave, causing his shoulder muscles to bunch. “I want that as well.”

Shifting forward in his chair so he could lean his forearms on his thighs, Viktor pinned Ron with an intense look. “Do you?”

The desire flaring in Ron’s stomach began to pool in his groin, warming him, but he attempted to push it aside. “Viktor, if I didn’t want this, there are ways for me to keep you out of the loop. And not just simple things like blocking my floo connection, or moving house. I was an Auror; I know how to disappear when I need to. Please believe me when I say that I really don’t want this child to grow up in a single parent home. This baby is half yours. I didn’t call you here to tell you that I want money, or that I was going to sue you for support, or anything like that. I want this. I want you to be a part of your child’s life.”

Viktor sat and stared at Ron for a lot longer than Ron was comfortable with. With the intense look in his eyes, he was slightly unnerving, as he didn’t move at all, just sat and stared for the longest time. It wasn’t until Ron shifted his position in the chair that Viktor responded.


Ron blinked, watching as Viktor stood and straightened his clothing, almost as though he was preparing to leave. “Uh, what?”

“Alright. If you are willing to allow me access to my child, then alright.”

And that was it. He held his hand out for Ron to shake, waved off Ron’s suggestion that he stay for lunch, and left through the floo. Ron didn’t even have time to stand to see him out, so to speak. He flopped back into the chair with a loud sigh.

“Well, bub, that was your dad. What did you think?”

He chuckled when bub kicked at his ribs.


Their second, third, and even their fourth and fifth meetings stayed along the same lines. Viktor would show up in Ron’s flat – he had gotten his floo connected internationally specifically so Viktor could use it – seat himself in the soft chair by the fire, and they would discuss things. There was no rhyme or reason to their conversations, but they also never spoke of anything personal. Viktor shared some of his stories from his Quidditch days, Ron gave him a few anecdotes about being an Auror, or working with the children in George’s shop, and that was it. It was exasperating, to say the least. Ron’s continued attraction to Viktor also wasn’t helping with his level of comfortableness with the meetings, either.

He had thought that the desire he felt for Viktor would dissipate; that it was left over from their night together and that once he got to know him better, he would just get over it. In fact, what seemed to be happening was that his attraction to Viktor was actually increasing. Ron put it down to his pregnancy hormones at first, but he knew that he couldn’t hide behind that excuse for long. It was rather annoying to be this attracted to the father of his child, but not be able to connect with him on any other level. So, it was with that in mind that Ron suggested the two of them doing something different on their sixth meeting.

“You want to do what?”

Viktor was standing just in front of the fire, his travelling cloak still wrapped around his shoulders. Ron had to ignore the confused and slightly suspicious look on his face in order to repeat himself.

“I’d like to take you somewhere.”

“A date?”

“Oh, I, uh…” Ron ducked his head as he felt warmth spreading across his cheeks. “I, uh, wanted you to meet my parents, actually. Sunday afternoons are the time that as much of our family as possible gets together at my parents’ house for lunch and I thought that, well, maybe you’d like to meet them.”

Ron’s words got faster as he neared the end of the sentence, his nerves increasing with each second. Viktor hadn’t reacted in any way other than to question whether Ron was asking him on a date, which didn’t help with his nerves at all. He had had the idea of introducing Viktor to the family all at once the other night, just to get it over with but, considering Viktor’s reaction, he was seriously reconsidering the entire idea. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other and took a deep breath before raising his head.

“Look, it was a dumb idea. If you’d prefer to just stay here, then I’m fine with–”

“Lunch with your parents?”

Ron almost stuttered to a stop. “Yes?”

“That would be acceptable.”


“Yes, acceptable.”

“Oh. Alright then. Just let me get my coat and I’ll Apparate us straight there.”

His hands clenched as he turned and made his way to the coat closet in the hall. When the idea had occurred to him the other day, it had been followed immediately by a quick fantasy of the three of them becoming a happy little family, so why he had thought it was a good idea, he now had no clue. In general, he found that ideas based solely off a combination of a fantasy scenario and his own level of desire for the man involved in said scenario had a tendency to not be very good ones.

“Why Apparition?”

Ron jumped as he realised that Viktor had followed him into the hall. How someone that size could move that quietly, he would never know. He turned with a smile, however and automatically placed a hand on the middle of his belly.

“I know the floo is probably safe – I mean, pregnant people use it all the time – but I’m always just a little too worried that something will happen with all the spinning and different fireplaces. I haven’t used the floo since my fifth month.”

“You are worried about the safety of our child. That is understandable.”

…our child…

Ron’s mind swam quite happily through the endorphin rush Viktor’s use of the term caused. He could feel a goofy smile spreading over his face, followed by a rush of heat that must have turned his cheeks at least a dull red. Ducking his head, he scrubbed a hand along the back of his neck.

“Yeah, I am.”

Getting to the Burrow wasn’t too much of a hassle, thankfully. The trip to the Apparition point was spent in silence, but this time it was a happy silence, at least on Ron’s part. Surprise jolted through him when Viktor offered him his arm, until he realised that he would have to side-along him. Still, Ron enjoyed the illusion that they could be a real, proper couple while he could.

“Ron’s finally here, mum!”

George’s voice echoed out of the front door just before Ron stepped through. Taking a deep breath, he offered Viktor a small smile before entering.

“Hi, mum, I, uh–” He was cut off by Molly wrapping him in a smothering embrace. “Oi, will you… No, wait...”

Molly sighed happily when she released him. “You’re getting so – oh!”

“Yeah, that’s what I was trying to tell you, mum. You remember Viktor, right?”

“Mrs. Weasley.” Viktor took Molly’s hand and bowed over it, brushing a soft kiss onto the back and making her stammer a little. “It is a pleasure to see you again.”

Her eyes darting between the two of them, Molly seemed a little lost. She gathered herself quickly enough, however, and gestured towards the living room.

“It is, of course, a pleasure to see you, too, Viktor. Would you like to take a seat in the living room? I need to have a word with Ron for a minute.”

Being practically dragged through his childhood home by his mother when eight months pregnant probably wasn’t the best for the baby, Ron thought, but he knew that there was no way he could prevent it. He over-exaggeratedly massaged his arm when she finally released him, but was ignored.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” Molly rounded on him, hands on her hips. “I don’t want you to set yourself up for disappointment, getting involved with that man, Ron.”

A small sliver of sorrow at her choice of words snaked its way through him, but he pushed it aside. “We’re not together, mum, so there’s no need to worry.”

“I am your mother, Ronald Weasley, it is my job to worry about you. I know for a fact that you will have enough to worry about with the baby when it finally arrives, and I don’t want to see you having to deal with a broken heart on top of it.”

Ron’s responding smile was a little sad. “There’s no need to worry there, mum. I’m not under any delusions about my relationship with Viktor.”

Ron watched Viktor interacting with his family the entire morning. He seemed to get along really well with George and Harry, but it was Bill and Fleur that he spent the most amount of time with. Of course, he and Fleur had known each other for just as many years as Viktor had known Harry, so Ron was unsurprised there. What did manage to surprise him, however, was the conversation he accidentally overheard after lunch, just as people were getting ready to leave.

“...he is uncommunicative. It is a problem.”

“Ron is uncommunicative? Are you sure?”

The first voice was clearly Viktor. The second eluded Ron for a moment before he heard the slight French accent.

“I am positive. It is impossible to get to know him.” Frustration was clear in Viktor’s voice. “All we do is speak of Quidditch and the joke shop.”

“Perhaps he is nervous? This must have come as a great shock, after all,” Fleur suggested, a patience in her tone that Ron recognised from when she was negotiating with her children.

“If he is, then he is not the only one.” Viktor’s voice was low enough that Ron had to lean closer to the wall separating them to hear him properly. “I never thought I would have this opportunity.”

“Then it is worth persisting.”

The two of them moved further into the house then, leaving Ron standing in the kitchen, pressed against the wall. His stomach fluttered with nerves strong enough that he found he had to take a seat at the table. This was a development that he hadn’t expected.

“Ron, I know you’re eating for two these days, but this is a little ridiculous.”

George’s voice dragged Ron rudely out of his thoughts, causing him to frown. “Shut-up.”

“Brilliant comeback, little brother. Come on, then. We have a chess game to finish.”


“She is beautiful.”

The awe in Viktor’s voice caused Ron to smile despite his complete exhaustion. Their still unnamed daughter was so tiny that she fit comfortably in the crook of her father’s arm. The birth had not been an easy one, but they had both made it through, thanks to the skill of the Healers. Taking a deep breath, he let it out in a large, satisfied sigh.

“She has your nose.”

Lying in the hospital bed, Ron watched as Viktor smiled down at his daughter. Over the past three weeks since overhearing the conversation between Viktor and Fleur, Ron had put in a bit more effort during their meetings. They didn’t have anything that Ron would class as a relationship, but he thought that they were at least getting somewhere. He knew it was probably pointless, but he was still clinging to the thought that the birth of their child would bring them closer together.

“I would not wish this nose on any poor child.”

Ron’s eyes widened in surprise before a laugh escaped him that caused him to wrap his arm around his belly to prevent the Healed caesarean mark from hurting. That self-depreciating sense of humour had come as a complete shock to him once he had finally discovered it hidden beneath the layers of stiff formality Viktor possessed. He held a hand up when Viktor took a step towards him, concern on his face.

“I’m good, I’m good. And your nose isn’t that bad.” When Viktor’s only response was to raise a thick, black eyebrow at him and tilt his head in a way that Ron had learned meant he was puzzling over something, he smiled. “What?”

“I am never certain whether you are joking or not.” The corner of Viktor’s mouth tilted when Ron let out a small chuckle. “It is… unnerving to not be able to read my–” He cut himself off by clearing his throat and turning his face to their daughter in his arms. “The father of my child.”

The correction didn’t escape Ron’s notice. Shock rushed through him fast enough that his mouth hung open a little. Had Viktor really been about to say what it sounded like he was? There had not been a single indication that he had developed any kind of feelings for Ron over the past five weeks they had been seeing each other, for lack of a better term. But then, a small voice in the back of Ron’s mind reminded him, he had just as much trouble reading Viktor as Viktor apparently had reading him. And, quite frankly, Ron was just too bloody exhausted to beat around the bush any longer. Taking a deep breath, he let it out slowly.


“My apologies, do you want her back?”

Ron’s insides squirmed as Viktor looked up to meet his eyes. “I, uh, sure. I mean, yes, I… I would like to hold her.”

He had, of course, already held her for far longer than he probably should have, considering Viktor had been standing and waiting patiently to meet his daughter. There was no point in denying that he wanted her back, however, as selfish as that desire may have been. It wasn’t until Viktor was on his way back over to the bed, though, that an idea occurred to Ron. He didn’t give it any kind of thought – not that he had much time to think – he just acted when the time was right.

Reaching up the second the little girl was settled in his arms, he grasped a handful of the front of Viktor’s shirt. Ron got a quick look at the surprise that crossed Viktor’s face in the second before he dragged him forward into a soft kiss. It wasn’t much of a first kiss, considering there was a new-born between them, but it was enough to send tingles down Ron’s spine. He broke away soon after, but was unable to bring himself to release the almost death grip he held on Viktor’s shirt.

“I…” There was a rough tone to Viktor’s voice that sent a shiver straight through Ron.

Re-opening his eyes – that he didn’t remember closing – Ron blinked. The intensity to Viktor’s gaze caused Ron’s breath to leave him completely in a soft sigh.

“You want this?”

The words sent a spark of recognition through Ron, although he couldn’t quite recall what was so familiar about them. “Yes.”

“Tell me.”

There was definitely something familiar about this tone of voice saying those particular words but, maddening as it was, Ron just couldn’t place it. “I want this. I…” He let out a steadying breath. It was now or never. “I want you; I have for a long time. And not just as the father of my baby. I will totally understand if you don’t want any kind of relationship with me beyond the baby, but–”

This time, the kiss was more intense. Their teeth almost cracked together with how fast Viktor claimed his lips, forcing Ron’s head back against the pillows. He let out a small sound, which seemed to soften Viktor up. When they broke apart this time, Viktor rested their foreheads together, his breathing a little unsteady.

“I vant this relationship,” he whispered, his true accent finally shining through in the mispronounced words. “Though I did not know how to say…”

“Oh, I think I got the point.”

Ron shifted over in the bed so Viktor could lie beside him. Resting there with one of Viktor’s strong arms wrapped around his shoulders and the baby lying between them, a sense of security washed through Ron that had him smiling. He knew that, no matter what else happened to him for the rest of his life, this was one moment that he would never forget.
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