Wizarding World one-shots

For Better or Worse (Glasswood)

Every time Radiant Wood made a plan, something would go horribly wrong and throw everything off.

It started incredibly early. When she was at her cousins Fred and George's sixth birthday party, she tried to go through with a plan she had made with their younger brother, Ron, to drop a dungbomb on their seats. Days of preparing for their big moment went to waste when Ron tripped on a rock and set the putrid smell off on them instead.

There was also the time at the start of her fourth year at Hogwarts when Radiant made a plan to tell her Quidditch Captain, Oliver Wood, that she wanted to go on a date. The evening she was going to ask him out? The Chamber of Secrets opened up. It ended up working out in the end, she was married to the bloke now after all, but still.

Last year's anniversary they spent their time being tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange in the Malfoy's dungeon, which meant they missed their reservations that Radiant had booked months in advance. Neither of them had that great of a time, but the one good thing about it was that Radiant couldn't do worse this year.

If only the nightmares would stop coming. Gods, she needed to talk to her counselor about that. Again.

Despite all her failures, Radiant was determined to have a plan that would stick. This was the last anniversary they would have just the two of them before Radiant gave birth. This year, she would throw a celebration worthy of the ones her mother used to throw on her and Radiant's father's anniversary.

It was the least she could do for Oliver.

But when Radiant woke up before the sun even rose on the thirteenth, she knew immediately that this plan was going to end up just like her other ones.

Radiant barely made it to the toilet before she started to vomit.

Her sister-in-law Daphne had told her that the morning sickness would ease up this far along in the pregnancy, but that she shouldn't be worried if she still had nausea. Why was it that she was feeling it again, today of all days, when she hadn't felt sick for a week?

"Bonnie lass?" she heard her husband call, his voice still groggy from sleep.

"Don't come in," Radiant gasped between retches. "It's just the baby. Go back to sleep."

Rather than settling back beneath the covers like she told him, Radiant heard the distinct sound of a wooden crutch hitting the ground accompanied by the scratching of claws on the paneled floorboard. She had seen him get up enough times to picture him walking over.

She could envision how messy his short cut brown hair looked, and how it was going to be even messier as soon as he ran his fingers through it like he always did. Radiant could practically feel the sweat dripping down his back from being a hot sleeper. He wouldn't get his prosthetic leg on yet, no; he would wait until they went out of the house to put the "damned weighty thing" on.

The door opened. Slipping between Oliver's leg and his cane came their chocolate lab named Quaffle. Radiant barely had time to throw up her arm before the dog began to attack her face with kisses.

"You know this is exactly what I wanted to avoid," Radiant muttered, her voice muffled by Quaffle's fur. She still had enough space to shoot a nasty glare at her husband, one of her specialties.

"You're right, I'm very sorry, bonnie wife."

She could even hear that damn smile in his bloody voice when he spoke. Bastard.

Radiant managed to get Quaffle off of her before she turned to the toilet and began to vomit again. She felt firm, sturdy hands gently grab onto her tangled red hair and pull it back. The same hands that could catch a quaffle hurling at him faster than a shooting star. Hands that she trusted more than anything, but that didn't mean she wanted them there at that moment.

She didn't want him to see her like this, especially on today of all days. Gods, she didn't want anyone to see her like this.

"You should have went back to bed," Radiant muttered.

The sound of rushing water from the sink answered her, followed by a damp towelette gently brushing against forehead and mouth. Oliver put two of his fingers under her chin when he was done, forcing her to look him in the eyes. "I made a promise, Radiant. When ye're hingin' an' when ye're brand new" — while quoting his vows, his voice went back to the accent she loved so much, even though she didn't want to admit it when she first heard it — "for better or worse."

Radiant scoffed, but the tears prickling at the corners of her eyes ruined the illusion of indifference she was trying to go for.

Damn this brilliant man.

"This isn't how our day was supposed to go, you know," said Radiant as Oliver led her back to bed. "I was going to decorate. Play music you like. Blimey, I was even going to make haggis."

Quaffle jumped on the comforter as her husband laid down beside her, the canine opening his mouth to yawn before resting his head on her swollen ankle. The dog looked up at "haggis" and started to wag his tail.

"I'm with you," Oliver said, twirling a strand of her red hair between his fingers. "And I cannae think of anything more braw."

Radiant closed the distance between them, pulling Oliver into a quick kiss.

"Though I kenna you would come around to haggis eventually," he murmured against her lips.

"Shut your damn mouth."

"Aye, mo ghràdh."