Positive (Completed)

Chapter 10: Summer

Arabella

Arabella got to meet her late grandparents. Well, their gravestones, actually. Harry brought her and Hermione to the cemetery to see their tombstones. Strangely enough, baby Arabella knew exactly who they were. Her Daddy had bought a bouquet of lilies for his mother and a wreath made of wooden sticks for his father. Hermione, who was holding Arabella, gave her to Harry so that she could kneel down and say a few words to them. Harry stood back and gave her some space.

"Hey, my name is Hermione Granger. I live in your house now, with Harry. He's my best friend. I also gave birth to your granddaughter, Arabella. I just wanted to say thank you for giving up your lives to save your son. I know that sounds horrible, but if you didn't, I would never have met the most amazing, caring person in the world, at least to me. I would never have had a best friend. I would never have Arabella." She wiped a tear from her eye and sniffed softly. "And I never would have fell in love." She said this last part almost inaudibly, so that Harry could not hear. And he didn't. Just the way she wanted it to be. "Thank you again." She stood up and walked over to her best friend and daughter. She smiled and he asked, "You okay?" She nodded and smiled. They headed for home.

Arabella saw her mother's tears. It made her sad to see her Mummy crying. She reached over for her. Hermione took her and held her on her left hip. The baby girl looked into her mother's eyes and with a small, tiny thumb, she brushed the tears away. Harry watched this with a heavy heart. Hermione stared at her daughter. How could she know? Arabella just smiled at her, trying to cheer her up. It worked, Hermione smiled back. Harry opened the big gate for them. They walked through and he shut it, locking it behind him.

*****

Arabella was now almost six months old and was getting bigger. Hermione would exercise her legs a lot to get them movement and so she could start learning to stand up by herself. Hermione knew she was too young for that, but she seemed to know what she was supposed to do on her own. Arabella had grabbed onto the coffee table in the living room a few times before, but could never pull herself up.

It wasn't until Hermione had put a bottle of formula on the table to get it out of Arabella's way, did it happen. Arabella was on a mission. A mission to get her bottle. She saw it. There. Right there on the coffee table. Her mother had turned away to tidy things up a bit. She looked at her and then back to the bottle. Then she grabbed onto the coffee table and pulled herself up onto her feet. Holding the table with one hand, she reached out with her other to grab the bottle and thump! She fell back down on her back and bottom, her diaper cushioning her fall. She grunted loudly and Hermione whipped around, her motherly instincts taking over, as she thought something bad had happened to her. When she saw her daughter grinning, lying on the floor with the bottle in her hand, she sighed with relief. But then, she gasped.

"Arabella, did you just grab that bottle off of the coffee table?" she asked her. "I could've sworn I put it out of your reach." Arabella raised the nipple to her mouth and began sipping on the bottle, smiling mischieviously at her Mummy and kicking her feet innocently. Hermione noticed this. "Arabella, did you pull yourself up?"

Arabella giggled, causing a little bit of formula to come out of her mouth. Hermione wiped it off with a spit-up rag she had lying on the coffee table. Arabella still stared at Hermione, who was shocked. "Arabella, can you do it again?" The baby girl took two more sips and pulled the nipple out of her mouth and sighed cutely. She put the bottle to the side and used her hands to sit up. Then she took her hands and grabbed the side of the table. She used her legs and arms to pulled herself up to a standing position. She looked at her Mummy. Hermione widened her eyes and her jaw dropped. "HARRY! COME SEE THIS!" she yelled startling Arabella a bit. "Sorry, angel," she apologized.