Her fingers tapped incessantly against the table, and Ron resisted the urge to A) Reach over and cover Hermione's hand with his own, or B) Strangle her. Hermione had been going crazy the whole morning, and Ron couldn't help thinking that this was much too different from the mushy lovey doveyness that they'd been so enjoying ever since the pregnancy test that Hermione had taken around midnight a few nights ago. And the test after that. And the test after that. And the test after that. Yes, anyone would agree that Hermione was absolutely anal when it came to... well, most things. But really, really anal when it came to statistics, specifically the statistics that stated whether or not she was pregnant. Sometimes, it was too much for a husband to bear. At first, he had revered the stick. The second time he'd been respectful of it. But by the fifth pregnancy test, Ronald Weasley would have been happy never to see a bloody pregnancy stick again. And, for the love of merlin, Hermione acted the same every single time! You'd have thought that she would have known the result by the sixth positive test, but no! She was just as nervous, just as excited, as she had been the first test. Ron liked to be the only one who called Hermione bonkers. But by the eighth and final pregnancy test, he was opening the floor for discussion.
“Mr. and Mrs. Weasley?” a gentle voice said, and Ron looked up to see a brunet woman with lime green Healer robes addressing them. He was about to answer yes when Hermione beat him to it.
“We are. Are you Healer Jennings?”
The woman nodded. “Yes. Come on in,” she said. Hermione stood up and nervously scampered into the room after her. Ron followed suit after taking a big breath and praying to merlin that he whole visit would go as smoothly as possible. The room was of medium size with lime green floors and white walls. Unlike muggle hospital rooms, there were no beeping machines, but the Healers did use a special type of wand. It was long, clear, and a little lethal looking. Come to think of it, Ron had no idea why they used special wands. He was sure that if he asked Hermione she'd be off like a rocket, but he didn't want the Healer to be offended. Instead, he made a mental note to ask his wife later. In the meantime, he turned his attention towards the two women who were situated around the table. Hermione was lying down, her shirt lifted up to reveal her stomach. Ron noticed that it seemed a little, just a teeny-tiny little bit bigger then he remembered it to be. But that didn't make sense. They'd only been trying for a month. The baby would be roughly the size of his fingernail, no- smaller, right? Hermione hadn't seemed to notice the difference. She was watching Healer Jennings with fascination on her face, which made Ron inwardly laugh. Only his Hermione. He walked over to the table and joined the two. Hermione took his hand and he squeezed hers, but she held a death grip to his, and that was when Ron finally began to understand just how nervous his wife was. This made him hold on even tighter, and they stayed like that until the Healer started asking questions.
“Are you two hoping for a certain gender?” she asked conversationally. Both shook their heads.
“I knew when I married Ron that the chances of having a girl were very slim.” Hermione said. “It's something I've come to terms with.”
Healer Jennings laughed. The Weasleys were notorious for their many children and lack of females. The comment could have offended Ron, but luckily he laughed too.
“And do you know how far along you are?” Healer Jennings inquired.
“Not really,” Ron said, shrugging. “Can't be more than a month.”
Healer Jennings directed her attention to something her wand was projecting onto her clipboard, frowning.
“How long did you two say you've been trying?” she asked carefully.
“Just a little over a month” Hermione replied.
“Well, Mrs. Weasley, you're two months pregnant.”
Hermione's smile froze in place.
“Two months?” Hermione asked, shocked. “How... how is that possible? We hadn't stopped using the spells before a few weeks ago...”
“Well, it must have been an accident, then.” Healer Jennings said. “Because you got pregnant sometime in January.”
“January...” Hermione said faintly. Comprehension suddenly dawned on her face. “Ron! You idiot!” she shouted.
“Why is Ron an idiot?” Healer Jennings asked, but Ron was already yelling right back at Hermione.
“I'M an idiot?” he asked. “Me?”
“YOU! I ALWAYS do the work! And the ONE TIME I don't have my wand and need you to do it, you screw it up!”
Ron suddenly seemed to remember that time.
“Oh yeah...” he said faintly.
“Now you've lost us A MONTH, Ronald!”
“Don't you Ronald me, I'm sorry, okay?”
“How could you be so idiotic?”
“Have I ever been able to get a spell right the first time I tried it? What the hell were you expecting from me?”
“I do the absolute best I possibly can, Hermione, and-”
“We won't be prepared! Our baby will resent us and hate us and run away and join the circus...”
“...Accept that then it's just too damn bad, but...”
The light in the room flicked off and Healer Jennings gestured towards the wall. Hermione and Ron both turned, and suddenly became transfixed with the image splayed out on the white plaster wall.
“This,” Healer Jennings said gently, “Is your baby.”
Ron sunk down on the stool next to Hermione, his eyes transfixed on the image.
“It looks like a kidney bean.” he said softly.
“Oh, I can zoom in.” Healer Jennings said, waving her wand.
“Now it looks like a zoomed in on kidney bean.” Hermione breathed.
When Ron looked at her, he was not at all surprised to see tears in her eyes. That was their baby. Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley had a baby together. Hermione, the Hermione he'd known and loved all those years, was carrying his child. In her stomach. He thought back to the first time he'd met her, when he'd had dirt on his nose, and she'd been a bossy little thing. She still was, but he'd gotten used to it. Back then, though... if someone had told him that twelve years later he'd be married to Hermione leviooohhhsaaa-not-leviosaaaaa Granger with a baby on the way, he would have laughed them off of the Hogwarts express. If someone had told him in his fourth year, he would have turned bright red and walked away. If someone had told him in sixth year, he would have muttered for them to shove off and cast a nervous glance in Hermione's direction to gauge her reaction. And if someone had told him when he was seventeen, Ron would have made a sarcastic comment, then run off to a secluded area to happily contemplate the idea for as long as he could before he was interrupted. During the war, Ron had thought a lot about the future because he'd been forced to admit that he might not have one. He'd realized he wanted kids, and he also wanted Hermione. So during those lonely months in the woods he'd think of Hermione with a baby, Hermione kissing him. Hermione in a gorgeous white dress. Now that this was a reality, Ron was torn between the two opposing desires of running away as fast as he could and never, ever leaving Hermione's side again. Ever.
He turned to Hermione, wanting to say something, wanting to tell her everything he felt, but he couldn't put it into words. She seemed to understand, though, by the look on his face, and she gave him a watery smile. Ron wished that he was crying like her, but he never cried. For some reason, this made him feel guilty. But he couldn’t' remember the last time he'd cried, maybe his wedding, and so it wasn't anything personal to Hermione or the baby. He loved them both- Hermione was just generally more leaky then he was. Ron didn't know why, but somehow that made him love her more. He imagined her heart growing bigger and bigger, like that classic muggle Christmas story that Hermione loved to watch. Of course, Ron knew from Ginny that the mood swings were going to drive him mad. Hermione would anger easily, cry more easily. But she'd also be happy more easily, and Ron's favorite part was that sometime during her pregnancy Hermione was going to become extremely horny. The only disadvantage to that, Harry said, was that Ginny was already a little fat and less flexible by the time she wanted to shag him every single second of the day. That was the thing Ron was looking forward to least. He loved Hermione's figure, and he didn't want to change anything about it. Her flat stomach made everything fit her perfectly. And the highlight of his day was quite honestly looking at her butt as she bent down to get something out of the oven for dinner.
“For the record, for future visits, you know, do you want to know the sex of the baby?” Healer Jennings asked, bringing Ron back to the time and place. Neither he nor Hermione tore their eyes away from the image of their baby while they answered the question.
Both of them turned to look at each other.
“Why would you want to know?” Ron asked.
“Why wouldn't you?” Hermione replied.
“Oh, merlin.” said Healer Jennings.
“It's a tradition in my family!” Ron said, starting to look alarmed. “Where do you think the story of my mum telling them to get rid of me when I was born came from?”
“But without knowing the gender, we won't be able to decorate the nursery, or ask for baby clothes, or-”
“Do you really want to dishonor a longstanding Weasley tradition?”
“Yes.” Hermione said, crossing her arms.
“No!” Ron cried in exasperation.
“You owe me for me not going to my parents' for summer vacation ten times in the past twelve years.”
“I didn't make you do that, and we spent Christmas with your parents last year.”
“You didn't make me do it?” Hermione said thunderously. “You didn't make me?”
And then she was full out yelling.
“Ever since you sacrificed yourself during that bloody chess game during first year, everything I've done has bloody been for you! Brewing the polyjuice potion, because, while I was afraid for myself, I was scared they'd go after you because you're a blood traitor. And when we were back in time, do you think it didn't kill me to watch you get your leg broken and cry out in pain and not being able to do anything about it? And in fourth year, with the Yule Ball, I tried so hard to get you to ask me and you didn't! And Dumbledore's Army? That was for you, Ron. I was worried to pieces that you wouldn’t be able to defend yourself. Not Harry, not me, you! And why do you think I didn't blow Lavender Brown to bits? I thought she made you happy! And every day on that bloody horcrux hunt I had to prepare myself for the idea that you might not make it and I'd be left on this earth without you. That only made me try harder to protect you, but, god, Ron, how the hell do you think I felt having to think about that? Do you think, Ron, that I wanted to spent summers and Christmases without my family? Do you think I wanted to go months and months without seeing my parents? I used to be so close to them! Do you think I had to help you with your bloody homework every single damn night of the school year? No, I bloody did not! So every thing I've ever done since I've known you has been completely for you, and if I ever hear you saying that it hasn't been I'll bloody divorce you!”
She cut off, breathing hard and glaring at her husband, whose mouth had long ago fallen open into a very Ron like expression. Healer Jennings shifted uncomfortably, not knowing what to do. Crying happily and mushy love, that she dealt with every day. Annoyed teenagers angry to be there, that she could work with. This she had no idea how to handle. Even some people who didn't really want their baby seemed to melt at the sight of it. So never, in all her years as a Healer, had Healer Jennings seen anything like this. She wasn't trained for it, she wasn't expecting it, she wasn't used to it, and, frankly, all she could think about right now was getting the hell out of the room so that the Weasleys could talk this out.
“I... do you guys want photos?””
Ron was still staring, unmoving, at Hermione, so the wife was the one that answered the question, in a normal, quiet, sweet voice.
“Yes, please. That would be wonderful!”
“Right. I'll make a few copies, so that I'll be out of the roo- I mean, so that you'll have more to give to your family.”
“Thanks.” Hermione said, and then Healer Jennings whirled around and left the room, closing the door tightly behind her. Hermione turned towards Ron, ready to apologize for snapping at him, but as soon as her head turned around a pair of lips were on hers, and he was kissing her. Surprised that this hadn't taken longer, Hermione took a little while to shut her eyes. Once she did, she sunk into the kiss. Kissing Ron was like renewal. Every time she kissed him like this, she remembered why she loved him, no matter how angry she was at him, no matter where they were, and no matter what was going on. Ron seemed to know this, and enjoyed using it against her, which never failed to make Hermione a little more giggly and a little less angry at her husband. The anger, of course, was instead directed towards herself for being so easy to win over. She still hadn't figured out Ron's weakness yet, but that was probably a good thing. Whenever he got angry, it was for a really good reason, while she became ticked off for the little things.
“I'm sorry.” Ron said, pulling back. “I never should have said that, you're right.”
Hermione smiled at him, but she didn't say anything. She was waiting for something.
“And we can find out the gender of the baby. I don't care about stupid old Weasley traditions anyways.”
She smiled wider and reached up to kiss him again, slow and soft. She pulled back, her arm wound around Ron's neck, Ron hovering over her, bending over the lime green hospital bed.
“Ron,” she said. “That's really sweet. And that's exactly what I wanted you to say. But-” she kissed his nose lightly. “We'll wait to find out if it's a girl or a boy.”
Ron's face broke out into a smile.
“Why?” he asked.
“Because marriage is about compromises, and this compromise will make you happy. Plus, I'm a Weasley now. It's my tradition, too.”
“You're brilliant.” Ron whispered. “But this is going to drive you crazy.”
“I need to grow out of it. Being driven crazy by lack of control is long overdue for me.”
Ron opened his mouth to protest.
“No, really, Ron.” Hermione said, holding a hand up. “I've spent so much of my life doing things for you. And I really want to do this. I love taking care of you like that.”
Ron looked like he was about to argue, but instead he bent down and kissed her.
“Okay. Thank you.” he said.
“See, now, was that do hard?”
Ron pulled back and grimaced.
“Yes. I've always found it extremely difficult to get my way. I'm selfless like that.”
A/N: So, did you like it? I hope you did! I think this chapter is adorable. Also, I want to apolagize in advance (or maybe not, I could have already screwed it up) for how little I know about babies. I did a bit of research but... god, there's a lot, and I'm a student so I don't have all that much time to be researching. However, if you see anything wrong with the facts in the chapters, feel free to tell me. ~writergirl8
Write a Review The World According to Perfection : Surprise