Hermione rocked herself gently on the porch swing, letting her feet kick off against the deck and out again as she breathed in the deep fragrance of the rose bushes and something else that made her mouth water. Wafting from the open window was the comforting scent of rich butter baked into flaky dough and the unmistakable tartness of cherry. Fall was her favorite season. Not only did it usually bring with it the start of the school year, but the weather brought with it the perfect balance between warm sunshine and crisp air.
She twisted herself to look into the window behind her and saw her husband, hard at work, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, fingers kneading another batch of dough, and flour dusted all over his ginger hair. Using her weight and feet to push the swing backwards as far as she could, Hermione finally found herself in the perfect position to ogle from a closer distance. She twisted herself and shifted her weight onto one leg while keeping the other pointed towards the ground to keep her position.
“Ron,” she whispered softly at first. The dough was now rapidly being rolled out into a perfectly formed circle. She watched him place the dough into a baking pan, watching as he conformed it to the sides. “Ron,” she tried again, a bit louder this time.
This time, he looked up. The concentrated sternness in his face unfurled from his features and he gave her a small lopsided grin. “Yes, my love?”
“Why do you make pies without magic?”
Ron shrugged. “Because you told me it tastes better that way. I love mum’s cooking but there is something nice about seeing uneven ridges and knowing it was because I missed a spot or two when molding. And this is going to be the first pie Baby will taste so I want it to taste extra good.”
Hermione’s face glowed at the mention of their unborn bundle of joy. She watched Ron move on to pouring dark red fruit jam into the dough. As he emptied the last bit of the jar, Ron swiped a fingerful of the jam and extended his arm towards the window. Hermione strained a bit more against her right leg to come closer. He touched his finger to her lips and gently wiped the sticky substance on her mouth. “She’s really been craving cherries lately,” Hermione hummed happily as she licked her lips. “I’m still dreaming about that danish you made last week.”
“Why don’t we call her Cherry, then?”
“Cherry?” She ran the name, and the leftover sweetness, over her tongue and shook her head. “I don’t think so. We can barely explain to her that we named her after the food her Mummy craved the most while carrying her.”
Ron gave a little chuckle. Behind him, the timer came off, and he turned to walk to the oven. “Well, she’s going to come into the world kicking and screaming in exactly a month, and we can’t exactly keep calling her ‘Baby’ can we?”
“I quite like ‘Baby’ but you’re right. She needs a proper name. I just feel like we can’t know until we’ve seen her.”
Her calf started to cramp and she quickly let go, allowing herself to swing back and forth. Their front door opened and she watched in anticipation as Ron walked towards her with a generous slice of golden crusted cherry pie in his hand. As he got closer, she saw he had added a scoop of ice cream and had decorated the plate with beautiful rose petals, their color not unlike the velvet red of the ones on the bushes before her.
“I’ve added a secret ingredient to this one,” he said. The swing creaked as he sat down next to her. She watched him pierce the pie, the metal piercing through a flaky layer of crust. “Open up.”
The moment she tasted the pie, she knew. Past the buttery pastry and the obvious tanginess of the cherry jam was a subtle floral taste. Her eyes went directly to the petals on the plate. “Ron, how did you -?”
Ron grinned and placed a sweet kiss on her cheek. “Just a bit of rose extract. I know how much you love those roses and I figured it would add a depth of flavor.”
“How about we call her Rose then? After the special pie her Daddy made her as her first pie?”
Ron’s grin grew wider and his blue eyes gleamed. “Rose Weasley,” he stated. “I quite like that.”
“Rose Granger-Weasley but I agree. It already sounds like it suits her.”