Aisling had stared at that small, simple potion for far too long. She knew that being magical meant she'd likely live longer, age a little slower. It was already noticeable, slightly, whenever they visited her family. She looked the youngest of her siblings now.

And she was torn between excitement and fear. Hope and memory.

Though at least it explained why she had been exhausted, sore, hungry. There'd be a hundred adjustments to make now, some little, some larger. And speaking to Tarron, of course. Something which brought as much joy and terror as the rest of it. So unexpected, now.

She hadn't been waiting for him long. And she was spending the time laying on the large couch in their library, with a blanket and a pile of notes (and some small books), with the notes being from a hefty tome[1] that now held a place of honor on one of the higher shelves.

Such old books weren't amenable to comfortable sprawling on the couch. And for now, it seemed best to read and wait. There was a soft noise from the edge of the room, too faint for her to place it. She turned her head. "Tarron?"

1.	Take a Little Trip Into Your Future With Me

It was him, in fact; he returned to the house tired and annoyed, having gotten called into the Ministry on an account of nothing much. This seemed to be a trend these days, but today it really had been nothing much – not that the owl he’d gotten that begged his presence had indicated that.

Utmost urgency, his arse. Someone had gotten into a heated disagreement over one of the new policies regarding tariffs. That wasn’t a job for the Chief Warlock, that was a task for a bucket of cold water and a few smacks to the back of the head.

He entered the library in the middle of loosening his tie – not removing it, of course, as that would just be downright inappropriate. He looked over at Aisling and smiled tiredly before he bee lined for his chair, not yet wondering if anything was the matter.

“Bloody Ministry business again,” he said, sitting at the armchair closest to the fire which, as he passed middle age, was becoming his napping chair. “Beech and Striddons got into it over tariffs – again – apparently they can’t pull two men apart without my dispensation.”

Admittedly, with legal arguments it was more a matter of separating the two from their paperwork and podiums. He sat back, letting his breath out in a gusty sigh – and then, finally, he looked at Aisling. “Is something the matter, dear?”

It was endearing, the way he grumbled. Though Aisling was quite aware that she was somewhat biased in that respect. She found most of his behaviors endearing. And so she smiled listening to him, as she gathered her notes up and set them on the table in front of her.

Then she rolled on to her side and looked over at him. "I could go in and separate them in your stead next time, if you wished." That smile turned a little sharper. There was a hex or two she could think of for such occasions. "And no, there is nothing wrong. Quite the opposite, though I will need to arrange a visit to St. Mungo's."

A prospect that would worry him if she let it hang in the air too long unexplained. So she took one deep breath, and tugged the blanket closer around her as she did so. "We're going to have another child." There was excitement in her voice, but the way in which she dropped her head to the sofa's armrest betrayed just how tired she felt.

“Oh, I should never ask that of you. ‘tis all a bunch of nonsense, really. I simply wish the owls were faster, or like that…what is that muggle invention?” He frowned. Her parents had one, and you held it to your ear and somehow heard someone on the other side. Seemed a bit odd, but certainly would be useful for quicker communication.

Then she distracted him. He looked at her in surprise as he loosened his tie just a tad, eyebrow cocked up a bit. Had her head injury recurred in some fashion? He certainly hoped it hadn’t, as her glassy-eyed expression had worried him deeply. He looked at her in open confusion at her choice of words – why would you ever go to St. Mungos for something pleasant?

Then she finally did tell him…and he looked at her blankly, the words evoking that mix of confusion and worry and mild panic that they’d evoked the first time she’d said them 12 years ago. Some joy, too, but mostly it was buried under the swamping feeling of shock.

“We’re what?” He asked, automatically, looking a bit gawkish. They were both nearly 60, it felt, and rather too old for – well, not physically obviously, but –

“Another one. Hah - fancy that…” Tarron’s tone was that sort of airy neutrality it took on when he was too stunned to be anything else. “Are you  - are you quite sure, Aisling?”

"The telephone, yes. They're quite useful, but I'm certain my handwriting would suffer." Aisling smiled a little, and settled back into the sofa. She could feel herself relaxing somewhat, with the news spoken. The first words past. Even if Tarron sounded a little stunned.

"And yes, quite sure. Rather a bit too much of a fuss otherwise, I would think." Her sigh turned into a small yawn. "It rather explains why I've been feeling so poorly. I was starting to worry." The blanket fell back from her shoulders as she rolled over. It was easier to see Tarron from such an angle.

He did look so surprised. "I can't say that I expected this, either. I'm still a bit shocked. I just...." Her voice was a bit flat, in that way it went when she'd clamped her thoughts down just a bit too quickly. "I'm glad that you weren't called away for too long."

Of course she was being sensible about it, which rather made him feel silly for his confused and slightly baffled reaction. But she’d had more time to get used to the idea, he supposed. Still – they were not getting younger. Was it safe for her to carry a child, this late in life?

He supposed the St. Mungos visit would tell them that, wouldn’t it. Still, the concern remained. Her first pregnancy had not been a difficult one for physical reasons, but rather emotional and situational ones – the Wizarding War had cast a shadow on what should have been a happy time, as had the disapproval of family and one-time friends.

That thought did make him smile at Aisling, slightly. It was a happy smile, as he forced himself to put his concerns aside. The last time she had told him this, the months had been spend in a mix of concern and worry and joy; now, there was no need for such dramatics. The Wars were over; it was best not to let their long shadow cloud this, as well.

“Indeed it does,” he said, as he got to his feet. He crossed the plush carpet to stand at the couch on which she lay, extending his hand.

“I shouldn’t worry,” he said. “The Healers at St. Mungos are competent – and the girls shall have a sibling. Are you not happy?”

Aisling looked up to give Tarron a warm, grateful smile before taking his hand. "Of course I'm happy. I fear that I may even insist that we do something to celebrate. I'm just a bit hungry, it seems." She sounded more relaxed, teasing even. While she could hardly blame him for a bit of nerves, that was not something where they both needed to suffer from a bad case. Not that there were any situations where such was helpful.

"I hope the girls will be excited. And that Sophia does not worry too much. She has enough to concern her at school, it seems." This was spoken followed by a sigh, and she squeezed his hand.

Then she shifted a little on the sofa, pulling her legs in and then pushing herself up so that she was half-sitting. "Will you sit?" She couldn't pretend that she still had no worries, no shadows, about this, but at least for the moment they could be pushed away for the happier ones. This was a far different time than it had been.

Tarron smiled back a bit more easily then, patting the top of her hand. She did seem tired, exhausted even, and he could sympathize only so much. “I suppose I can agree to that,” he said, tone that same lightly teasing tone she had used on him.

He sat next to her as she requested, letting go on her hand to do so.

“I shouldn’t worry yourself about Sophia; she has plenty of sense. I suspect they will be excited.” He himself, naturally, had already jumped to thoughts of a boy – a male heir to carry on the estate and name.

The girls were very dear to him, but he was still rather in the older mindset; eventually they would marry, and take on a different last name. And Tarron had no intention of his daughters marrying men who could not support them somehow.

This was comforting, the two of them together on the sofa amid good news. Aisling closed her eyes and stretched out, not quite touching her feet against Tarron. "She picked up the sense from you, of course." Sometimes a bit too much, perhaps, but there were far worse things.

"I'll see what the healers say before I tell them anything. Not sure when...but I think I've enough to worry about for the moment." She opened her eyes and smiled, though it was still far too tired.

"And I will have to be insistent that you take some time off for our anniversary. We won't have as much for just the two of us, now, and there were a few things I had wished to do." There was the worry again, and a brief frown. There were so many things that she had put off until the girls were away at school, projects and hopes and goals she wasn't ready to simply place aside again.

 “It does run in the family, it seems.” Tarron’s lips twitched in a slight smile. She certainly had got her father’s sensibility, though he personally felt that both of them had quite a bit of sense to pass down. In his mind Sophia had more her mother’s brand of sense – cold when she needed to be, but usually a warmer kind. He tended towards the pragmatic, and as of yet the small girl had not shown much predilection towards that.

“I should go and see them promptly. If there are indeed any likely issues, then it is best to know early, when they might be properly addressed.” He sniffed, the brief smile gone. He was not, for once, particularly worried about health issues – or ones that could be predicted, anyhow. It was the physical and mental toll that worried him. It would be entire too like her to work herself into the ground.

“As you wish, my dear,” he said, obediently enough. When she insisted, it was often easier to comply. “Dare I enquire as to their nature?”

"Fortunately, yes." Rowena might not have had her sister's composure, but she was hardly foolish. A little thoughtless, perhaps, but both of the girls were lovely, wonderful children. Even if Aisling would admit to being rather biased in her opinions of them.

The arm of the sofa was comfortable enough to rest her head against, if not as restful as their bed and a proper pillow. She did not usually allow herself to nap, instead slipping into from sheer exhaustion, but it seemed that such rest would be warranted over the coming months.

At least when she didn't have Tarron about to occupy her. "I'll send an owl today, to have it arranged as swiftly as possible.  I think that I'll find it reassuring, to  have matters checked out properly. And I'll send a letter to Teagan as well, just to arrange a few tests." She had a great respect for Healers, but that did not prevent Muggle technology from being so very informing at times.

“Dare I enquire as to their nature?”

This prompted a grin, and she stretched that tiny bit more to rest her feet against him. "I am rather partial to the idea of a nice hotel and staying in bed all day, though only for a day or two. And with no owls from the Wizengamot. They can spare you for that long."

Muggle tests. Tarron scowled a moment, but said nothing; she knew his general discomfort with muggle technology well enough there was little need to communicate it openly. Still, if that was what she wished, he was hardly to forbid her. Gods knew he’d have little luck forbidding her to do anything – and if she was certain they would do her good, he was forced to agree.

She slumped on the couch a bit more, feet pressing against the crisply pressed trousers he wore. Krix had a way of making sure all of his suits were immaculate, and such was the case with this one…up until now, at any rate. He patted the top of her nearest leg.

“I believe that can be arranged,” he said, with a smile. “Perhaps somewhere sunny and far away, for a change. I confess I am no world traveler – some southern tropical island seems a welcome idea.” Besides, warm, dry weather was good for your health, and the trip could be interesting. “Be a nice change from the weather here, at any rate.”

"Just tests." Aisling leaned forward enough to place one hand atop his. "There's a few things we can find out earlier, that way. I  think you'd like to know them as well." Her smile was hesitant, a bit unsure. Not everything they could learn there might be good. And some of it, some of it she wasn't sure that she wanted it to matter, despite knowing that it would no matter what she thought. Tarron would want a son, and she wanted to see him happy as much as anything else.

It was far easier to think about vacation. "Sun and water and nothing to worry about. Sounds utterly perfect. We'll have to take pictures and have breakfast in bed and send the girls far too many letters." She squeezed Tarron's hand, the smile showing a bit more.

"I can ask about, see where might be good. Somewhere a bit off the common path, I expect neither of us want crowds." Johann Storm had expressed an interest in travel, and Aisling wasn't lacking in other contacts to inquire with as well. "Best not to wait too long there, a month isn't too long to plan." Just long enough to make the excitement tangible.

Though a more immediate thought struck her, then. "Krix?" The House Elf, prompt as always, appeared behind the couch and eyed the couple with a curious tip of the head. "Could you bring us some tea, and some...fruit, please."  A nod, and then the crack of disapparating.

He placed his other hand atop hers, turning the hand she had already touched so that he instead cupped her hand between his. Smaller than his though it was, he squeezed it gently, his smile faint and quick. He would defer to her judgment, as he did in all cases where she requested muggle technology step into the picture. Especially in these cases that very much involved her person.

“Mmm, no. Crowds would not be preferred, in this instance. And preferably free of...adventurous wildlife, shall we say – I should prefer an ocean that isn’t attempting to kill me, which rather rules out Australia and its islands, I’m afraid. I should ask around.” He folded his arms again, legs crossed at the knee. “When it comes to islands other than our own, I’m afraid I haven’t the slightest.”

He stroked his chin as Krix blinked away, silent for a moment as he considered. There was a map on the far wall, more decorative than truly informational these days, but it sufficed as a general reference. Looking at it he had to admit that the lack of crowds and other elements was a tall order, from what little he knew of the globe.

And there it was, the sort of moment which Aisling wished might never end. Close and peaceful and reassuring. She'd have Tarron with her for this, have vacation and rest and friends. And to have it without that threat of war looming over everything.  There were still shadows there, but they could be pushed back and aside, at least for now.

"We will find somewhere. There's a travel agency or two in Diagon, and if we both ask around, I expect that we'll come up with a wealth of information. There has to be somewhere fitting, and I expect that such locations prefer to not have their guests eaten." A sentiment which she most certainly shared.

Her gaze followed Tarron's over to the map upon the wall. It was slightly out of date, but she had never gotten about to replacing it. "I'll have a few errands to run in Diagon now, so it won't be out of my way to stop in." Some of her clothing would have to be adjusted eventually, there were a few small items she might want, and there were some books she had had her eye on, whose purchase she had put off until she had time to read. Time which she would make, now. "But it seems best to leave today quiet. Though we could have a game later, if you'd like." Such was always a good way to pass an afternoon, even if Tarron did tend to win.