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Forty Weeks by Jessi_Rose

Format: Short story
Chapters: 5
Word Count: 9,962
Status: WIP

Rating: 15+
Warnings: Mild Language, Scenes of a Mild Sexual Nature

Genres: Fluff, Humor, Romance
Characters: Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny
Pairings: Ron/Hermione

First Published: 08/12/2006
Last Chapter: 02/03/2007
Last Updated: 02/04/2007

Summary:
Another AMAZING banner made by PrincessPotter. *huggleglomp*  I'm such a fangirl..




Ron and Hermione are going to have a baby. Can their marriage survive Hermione's out-of-control hormonal rampages? Join Ron and Hermione on their journey through forty weeks of laughter, joy, tears and drama.


Chapter 1: Week Five - Big News
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Prologue

Hermione sat in the bathroom staring at the twin blue lines for what seemed like hours. A dozen emotions had passed through her face all in a matter of seconds. Her nose scrunched, her brow furrowed, her lips twitched…and then she smiled. A genuine, goofy grin that she couldn’t wipe off of her face. She was blessed.

“Hermione?” Ron called from the floo. “I’ve only got a minute before I have to get back to the Ministry. Where are you?”

Her smile was gone. With her heart beating erratically in her throat, Hermione jumped from the lid of the toilet she was sitting on and ran to greet Ron at the floo. She shoved the positive pregnancy test deep into the garbage on her way out.

“Sorry, I was,” Hermione thought for a moment, “cleaning the shower.”

“Have those Muggle fumes gone to your head?” Ron asked as he cocked his head. When Hermione smiled, though he didn’t realize how nervous it was, he continued. “I won’t be home until later. Harry needs help with Malfoy’s case.”

“He’s been working on that for ages! You’re never home early,” Hermione whined. “Do I always have to share you with Harry?”

Ron reached out from the floo and stroked her cheek. “Sorry, love. It won’t happen tomorrow, okay?”

Hermione nodded her head and absentmindedly laid her hand across her stomach. “I guess I’ll go finish cleaning, then.”

“I love you,” Ron announced as he made his way back to the Ministry side of the floo.

“I love you, too,” she whispered back to him after he had disappeared.

How in the world am I going to tell Ron?

Another pregnancy test later, Hermione was sitting on her bed, in deep thought over how to tell Ron the news. They had talked about having kids, and they both wanted them, but Ron wanted to wait until he got higher in the Ministry. Frankly, she wasn’t sure what his reaction would be and it frightened her. He was bad enough at the thought of marriage.

“Ron, will you marry me,” Hermione asked as they chatted over a bottle of wine.

They had been living together for close to three months now, and had been together for near two years. She never expected the reply she received.

“We’re too young!” Ron laughed. He, of course, thought it was a brilliant joke.

“I’m serious, Ronald,” she noted, looking affronted by his blatant disregard for her feelings. “Marry me.”

Hermione got down on her knees in front of Ron and took his hand. Ron looked as though he had just attempted to swallow a dragon’s egg.

“I love you. You love me. What’s wrong with us getting married?”

“We…I…You…,” he stuttered. “There’s a lot that comes with marriage. Especially to a Wizard.” Ron looked a bit frightened by her confrontation. It wasn’t as though he didn’t want to marry her, he just wanted to be better settled. “Hermione,” he took her hand more firmly in his and let his other hand cup her cheek, “we’re not ready for that. I’ve barely been at the Ministry for a year. We don’t know-”

“You don’t want to marry me?” Hermione mumbled with tears in her eyes.

“I do! Don’t. Don’t make it an argument, Hermione. I just…Why did you ask me?” Ron asked with a hint of laughter. “Isn’t that my job?”

“I knew you’d never ask,” she answered shrewdly. “Besides, rich or poor, I want to spend my life with you.”

Ron stared at her in adoration. She really wanted him, forever. He had never doubted it, but had always assumed that she wanted more of him. Well, with her constant nagging of perfection, who could blame him? Sighing, he nodded his head.

“I’ll marry you, love. Name the day.”



“Well,” Hermione asserted. “If I can talk him into marriage, I can surely do this…”

Hermione sat up from her bed and chuckled as thoughts of different ways to tell Ron about the baby flooded her mind. She figured she would do it gently, easing him into the idea of having a child. Slowly, her plan evolved into telling him quickly; like ripping off a band aid. But, after carefully examining the situation, and remembering Ron’s sluggishness with picking up on cues, she began devising a plot to string him along with various plays on words.

It was evil, mean and downright nasty, she knew. But, the effect would be priceless and a very fun story to tell their child. She smiled as she got up to take a shower. Tonight, when Ron got home from work, they were going to a late dinner. Then, the games would begin.

Fifteen minutes turned into an hour, an hour turned into two. She didn’t move a muscle in her sleep when Ron came strolling in the room after midnight, exhausted from another long night at the office. He leaned down over her and placed a kiss on her forehead, not realizing that she was dressed as if ready for an evening out.

Yawning, Ron walked to the bathroom to clean himself off in the shower. He smelled of the Ministry; old parchment and gross amounts of various cigar smoke. He never understood why others liked to smoke cigars - it was so muggle, and so disgusting.

As he made his way into the bathroom, he accidentally knocked over the rubbish bin. When he leaned down to pick up the contents, he saw a little white stick with two faded lines on it.

“Strange muggle…What is this?” He spoke to himself. Ron always felt that muggles had the weirdest contraptions. It had taken Hermione a week to show him how to properly use a refragmerator, and another month to show him how the dish-ma-bob worked.

Just as he was shoving the white stick back in the trash, he spotted a box clearly marked, “Pregnancy Test - Bonus Pack.”

Muggles have tests for pregnancy, he thought. “Odd breed, them,” he sniggered. “No wonder Hermione wants kids. It’s another way for her to take a test.”

The laughter died from his voice when he saw the white stick on the box of the test, perfectly matching the one he had shoved in the garbage. Quickly putting two and two together, Ron paled. His head snapped between Hermione sleeping on the bed and the stick he held in his hand. No. Not possible. Nope. Ron shook his head as if convincing himself more that it was doubtful.

He had to know. Though he felt awful for waking Hermione from such a peaceful sleep, he had to know if it was true. For a brief moment, he thought that it might have been Ginny’s test. But, why would she do that here?

“Hermione,” he whispered as he shook her shoulder. “Wake up, we need to talk.”

“Later, Ron…” she murmured in a daze. “Tired.”

“It’s about the test,” he added carefully, eying her scrunched nose.

“I gave you my notes already. Just study those.”

Ron ran a tired hand through his red tresses. Mother of Merlin, did she always dream of Hogwarts? “Not that test-”

“Sleep,” she announced, cutting him off. She rolled over so that she was no longer facing him and was fast asleep again.

“Brilliant,” Ron huffed.

Giving up and resolving to figure it out in the morning, Ron went to take a shower. And, an enlightening shower it was. While he was anxious to ask Hermione about the test, he began to slowly accept the possibility of being a father. He knew that they would have children eventually and sure it was a bit soon for his liking, but maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all.

I wonder how long she’s been keeping this from me? An evolution of contemplation took over his mind. If she could keep it a secret, so could he. It would be fun, watching her squirm under the pressure of telling him the news, since she so obviously wanted to keep it a secret.

It was solved. Tomorrow, he would get off of work early and he would take her out to dinner. He wondered just how guilty he could make her feel for keeping this big news a secret from him.

A/N - This is just a prologue. Not all chapters will be this short - I promise!! Reviews appreciated!! ~Jessi

Chapter 2: Week Five and a Half- Telling Ron
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Hermione woke in the early morning hours only to find Ron already awake. He was positioned on his side, head propped up on his hand, staring at Hermione with a strange expression - like he had just tried to swallow a dragon egg. When Hermione's eyes had fully focused, she jumped back a little, frightened to wake up and see a freckled someone right in her face.

"What's the matter, Ron?" She asked groggily.

He put a finger to her hair and guided a small trestle of hair behind her ear. "Nothing," he replied sweetly. "Just watching you sleep. What were you dreaming about?"

Hermione blanched. She had been dreaming of Ron's poor reaction to the news of the baby. Aware that Ron was still staring at her, Hermione quickly recovered. "It was just a nightmare. Not a big deal."

"Maybe when you get back to Hogwarts, you can ask Poppy for a sleeping draught," he suggested. He watched her squirm a bit under the covers. Of course he knew she couldn't take one in her condition, but would she tell him that? He smirked internally.

"I don't need a sleeping draught, Ron. I'm fine," she said shortly. "Besides, it's still six weeks until I go back to teach."

"No need to be short with me. Are you having girl problems?" He was pushing his luck, he knew. But it was too fun to watch her face change colors, and see her eyes dart around the room. "Come here," he cooed as he put his arm around her and pulled her close. "I'm going to come home early tonight and we'll go out to eat. I miss spending time with you."

Hermione snuggled up against Ron’s chest, happy to have her husband home to spend at least a little bit of time with. As she listened to his beating heart, she resolved that there was no way she could play that horrible prank on him. She would tell him about the baby tonight, with no jokes at all.


Dinner started out nicely with Ron removing Hermione’s overcoat and pulling out her chair. It amazed her what kind of gentleman he was being, so cautious and careful - not at all how he normally behaved in restaurants.

The waiter came to their table as they were perusing their menus. “Can I start you off with something to drink?” He flashed a pearly smile and looked back and forth between Hermione and Ron.

Hermione missed the mischievous gleam in Ron’s eye as he said, “A bottle of Merlot.”
“Um,” Hermione interrupted. “I’m not in a wine mood. I’ll have sparkling water with lemon, please.”

“Come on Hermione,” Ron urged with a smirk. “Have a glass of wine.”

Hermione smiled embarrassedly at the waiter. “No, water will be fine.”

The waiter nodded and walked off to get the drinks. Hermione held her menu up to block her face, and her crimson flush. Of course, when she suggested the muggle restaurant, she hadn’t counted on a bottle of red wine.

“You love wine,” Ron pressured her. “Why won’t you have a glass?”

“I’m not in the mood, Ron. Just drop it, okay?” Hermione ignored his quiet okay and finished deciding what it was that she wanted. Everything looked so good…except the veal, and the chicken, and the spaghetti.

Ron felt a little bad for making her so flustered, but was enjoying watching her squirm. He wondered how long it would take for her to break down and tell him about the baby. For a second he thought he should tell her that he knew, until another stroke of brilliance came to him.

“What’s your craving,” he asked nonchalantly.

“What?” Hermione squeaked as she dropped her menu. “I’m not craving anything.”

“Then why are we out to dinner?”

“You…I…,” Hermione stuttered. “I am hungry, I’m just not craving anything. I could just not eat…”

Ron laughed. “You have to eat, love. How about the veal?”

Hermione wanted to puke. “I don’t eat babies,” she whispered shortly.

“Are you okay?” Ron asked her with a knowing smile. “You’re acting weird.”

Just then, the waiter came back with their drinks. “Are you ready to order?”

Ron started to say no, but Hermione cut him off. “I’ll have the filet mignon, well-done, and the steamed vegetables.” She handed her menu back to the waiter.

“And for you,” the waiter asked, looking at Ron.

“Veal,” Ron said simply. “With the vegetables,” he added under Hermione’s penetrating glare.

All through dinner Hermione had to keep herself from running to the bathroom. Watching Ron gnaw apart his veal was the most disgusting thing she had ever seen. It was a baby. Her hand went to her stomach. She had to tell him now, before she was begging him to take his meal outside.

“Ron, we need to talk,” Hermione asserted nervously. “Listen I-”

“I know,” Ron confided. “You’re pregnant. I found the test.”

Hermione stared in shock. She felt dizzy and sick. This whole time, through the whole damned dinner - making her sick and fighting with her over wine and PMS - he had known that she was pregnant.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” She shrieked. Outrage, that’s what it was! Making her feel guilty for not mentioning it sooner. “Did you enjoy watching me suffer. Veal!” Hermione shouted, pointing at the half masticated baby cow lying on Ron’s plate.

Ron howled in laughter as he watched her face contort from shock to confusion and finally to anger. He scooted his seat next to Hermione and put his arm around his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he said in between snorts. “You just made it too easy.”

“Yes, well, I’m glad you find the situation amusing,” she bickered as she turned her head in the other direction.

“Hermione.” Ron took his finger and tilted her chin to face him. “You should have told me when you found out.”

“I only found out yesterday.”

“Still. We had this morning,” he said, caressing her hair and planting a kiss on her forehead. “There’s something I don’t understand, though.”

Hermione softened under his perplexed expression. She nodded her head to encourage him to continue.

“How?” he asked simply.

It was Hermione’s turn to laugh. “What? You need an explanation on where babies come from?”

Ron blushed. “You know what I mean.”

“Well, you see, when a mommy and daddy fall in love-”

Ron started tickling Hermione half way through her sarcastic speech. Hermione, howling with laughter tried to run away from Ron. Ron quickly placed the money for dinner down on the table and continued chasing Hermione from the restaurant.

Once they were outside, Hermione stopped running to catch her breath. Ron was about to start bugging her again, when he looked at her in a way he never had. Not only was she beautiful when she laughed, but she had this new glow about her, something Ron never noticed before. Instead of pinching at her sides, Ron’s hands rested lovingly on her hips.

“I love you,” he whispered as he moved in to kiss her. When they broke apart, he moved a stray piece of fluff from her face and smiled anxiously. “We’re gonna be okay, right?”

Hermione nodded. She placed her tiny hand on Ron’s and moved it to rest on her belly. “I think we’ll be okay.”

A/N - This chapter is dedicated to Nic, who inspired this whole fic. Blame her if Ron comes out missing in later chapters ;) And, also to Princess - see, I can write Ron without killing him, aren't you proud? :P

Chapter 3: Week Eight - Telling the Weasleys
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She had only an hour. Of course, when the roast is burning in the oven and the potatoes are being overcooked, it seems like only mere seconds. Hermione bustled around the kitchen, her hair swaying behind her in a fluffy fashion, sweat beads mixing ferociously with the hormonal tears she had been shedding only moments before. Swiping the moisture from her face, Hermione pulled the burnt roast from the stove, steam and smoke swirling around her face. She sat down on the floor, taking her place next to the roast she had given up on, and cried harder.

“Stupid food. Impossible dinner. Not worth the bloody effort. Should just order a bloody pizza for Merlin’s sake,” Hermione muttered angrily, kicking the roast across the floor and reacting murderously to its inability to fight back at her.

Ron waltzed in to the room tucking his white button-up into his trousers. He glanced curiously at his wife, who was standing from the floor with tear stained cheeks and puffy, malicious eyes.

“Is something wrong, love?” Ron asked as he took a few long stride toward her. He cupped her face in his hands and brought her forward for a comforting peck on the lips.

Hermione embraced Ron around the middle and let the tears continue flowing from her heavy eyelids. She sobbed incoherently, but Ron was sure he heard something like “family” and “baby” and “Molly’s cooking”.

Ron soothed Hermione by running a tender hand through her hair, whispering sweetly in her ear, all the while trying to stifle his chuckles that were forming. Unable to keep them in any longer, he let one escape his throat which proved to be a grave mistake indeed.

“You think this is funny, Ronald?” Hermione shouted as she shoved Ron backward. Her eyes narrowed and the golden flecks that were normally present in her coffee eyes were gone, giving her a frightening and almost demonic look. “You can cook for you entire bloody family! I’ve had enough of trying to impress you and everyone else with my homemaking skills! I don’t even have any!”

Hermione’s chest heaved up and down while her finger was pointed mutinously at Ron. The look he was giving her in return only made her seethe more. He looked…accepting. How dare he try and belittle me by not caring how I feel!, Hermione’s mind exploded in thought.

“Hermione, I’ll cook. Why don’t you go get ready and we’ll-” Ron started in a caring tone, but was immediately cut off by Hermione’s vindictive rant.

“So now I’m not suitable to see your family? What, do you want me to dress up like Polly Homemaker and walk around like a brain dead tart! How dare you insult me that way Ronald Billius Weasley!” She spun on her heel and set off toward their bedroom.

Ron sprinted to her, grabbed her by the elbow and swung her around unceremoniously. What in Merlin’s beard just happened?

“You’re beautiful,” he ground out looking intently into her blazing eyes. “You’re beautiful. You are the smartest, most sophisticated woman I know. I just meant that you’d been crying and you look… Well, I know you wouldn’t want to look like that when my mum and everyone come over, you know?”

Hermione barely nodded her head and left Ron standing in the hallway. She knew she was being unreasonable, but she couldn’t help it. It was like this baby was Satan Reincarnate, making her strike down those around her. But, she had to admit, being told she was beautiful and sophisticated made her feel astronomically better.

As she splashed cool water over her face, Hermione looked into the mirror to see her glowing reflection staring back at her. She had a million different ways to tell the Weasleys that she was pregnant, but none of them seemed that great; they were rather dull and uninteresting. Of course, having a baby with Ron would be exciting news…but how to take the mickey out of Fred and George before they could come up with some weird plan to exploit Ron. Although it was sure to be a riot, Hermione knew that Ron was still rocky about being a father for the first time and she didn’t want anything to mess up how great he had been these last few weeks.

Placing her delicate hand over the lump forming on her abdomen, Hermione sighed deeply. As strong as she showed herself to be on the outside, there was so much that she was feeling on the inside. For one, she wasn’t sure how she was spawning something that seemed to make her hormonally insane. Unless that was how their child was going to be…a perfect mix of Ron and herself was… Sweat broke on out her forehead, Hermione clamped her hand over her mouth and dashed to the toilet.

After a half an hour, Ron realized that Hermione couldn’t possibly take that long to get ready for a visit from his family. Normally she would wear what she was comfortable in, she never wore make up and her hair was…Hermione’s hair. Getting worried about what Hermione was doing, especially after their tiff before she walked away, Ron put aside the cooking and went searching for his wife.

He knocked tentatively on the bathroom door. “Hermione? You alright?” He twisted the brass doorknob and stepped quietly into the bathroom. “Hermione?”

Hermione lifted her head from the toilet, her eyes were watering and her heart pounding. “I think our baby hates me.”

Ron kneeled down next to her and scooped her hair into his hand. “What happened?”

Hermione let her chin rest on the seat of the toilet and took a deep breath. “I was thinking about how this baby is going to be just like you and me. It’s…How weird is it going to be? You have to admit that we’re entirely different and -”

“But that’s the best thing about us!” Ron relished. He took her chin from it’s position and turned her to face him. “We’re different. So the baby will get your brains and my…”

“Sarcasm? Sense of humor? Straight hair?” Hermione laughed. “Really, Ron. Can we do this?”

Ron sighed and ran his hands through Hermione’s tangled hair. “If not, we have help. Mum and Harry and Gin. They’ll all help.”

“You’re family!” Hermione jumped from her seat, nearly knocking Ron to the ground. “I forgot they’re coming! I have to cook and,” she glanced in the mirror, “I look awful!”

“Relax. I’ve taken care of dinner. You go get cleaned up.” He flinched, due to the last time he said that, but Hermione just nodded her head and walked away.

*


As the seven Weasleys, Harry, Ron and Hermione all sat around the enchanted dining room table, a small silence filled the space. Hermione kept glancing nervously at Ron, who looked as though there was nothing to tell, that it was Hermione's job because she was the one that was carrying the baby. It was frustrating for her; her hormones screaming at her to jump up and shout at him for being so moronic...but her rationality telling her that he was just as anxious about the reaction of the family.

"How is married life?" Harry asked while before sinking his teeth in the tender roast on his fork. "The only time I see you anymore is at work functions. Or when there's something new about Malfoy."

Ron noted how peeved Harry sounded and fidgeted in his chair. "You know, busy and all that..."

"Well the last time you called the clan here you were getting married,” Fred noted, staring determinedly at Ron's reddening face.

George's eyes were fixated on Hermione's flush. "Yeah, so what’s it this time? Are you knocked up?"

Silence buzzed around the table. Hermione snapped her head to Ron who was gazing endlessly at his roast and potatoes. Everyone’s eyes were on Hermione, some staring anxiously and some were trying too hard to contain their excitement.

“Is it true?” Molly asked in a squeaky voice, her eyes were glistening with tears. Without waiting for an answer, she jumped up from her seat and ran to Hermione.

Hermione smiled as Molly embraced her. The two women sat there for minutes, holding one another and crying happy tears.

“Hem.” Ginny cleared her throat, causing the in-laws to break apart. “So, I’ll take that as a yes, then?”

Ron looked at his little sister and smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, we’re pregnant.”

Ginny laughed. “Well, Hermione, you look great. Don’t know what to say about you, Ron…You’re showing just a smidge too much.”

Ron threw her an angry glance before getting up to stand next to Hermione. She was busy taking turns hugging the family, though she had held off getting anywhere near Fred and George for most of the night…

A/N - I am so sorry for the long wait on this chapter. Lots of things have happened, and it was hard to write this. I want to give an extra special thank you to Mona. Without your encouraging words, this fic would have been long deleted. *hug* I hope you all enjoy!! ~Jessi

Chapter 4: Week Nine - Paging Augustus Pye
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"So, three o'clock, Monday afternoon. Right. Okay. Yes, my husband will be...yes, Mmmhmm. Thank you so much." Hermione pulled her head from the fireplace and turned around to face Ron. "The appointment is at three o'clock-"

"I heard," he told her. "I just don't understand something."

Hermione walked over to Ron and put her arms around his middle, leaning her head against his chest. While stroking her thick hair, he mused, "Why are we going to Mungo’s to visit a healer? Isn't that for maladies and...erm...injuries?"

"Ever since your mother began parading healers under my nose, I've had to think about who I'll see for the baby," she answered with slight unease. She didn't want Ron to know that she fancied seeing a Muggle obstetrician, so instead she made a tiny sacrifice. "So I owled a healer at St. Mungo's who has agreed to see me through the term of the pregnancy."

"What's the healer's name?"

Hermione braced herself. "Augustus Pye."

Ron pulled Hermione away from his torso and looked at her quizzically in the eyes. "That bloke that tried to sew my dad up?"

Hermione bit her lip nervously. Somehow explaining the Muggle way to Ron wasn't going to be exactly easy. She racked her brain for some sort of example, but all of the Magical solutions seemed all the more simple. She sufficed with a unadorned, "Uh-huh."

"He's mental! No. He's not going to try sewing up my wife or something." Ron began pacing the living room, one hand on his hip and the other stroking his chin as if he were in deep thought. "How about the one my mum or Fleur went to? He did fine!"

"I can't let a Magical Healer try and see me through this," Hermione answered quickly. "I'm muggle-born, Ron. They don't know the things that could happen. I may well have to be sewn up."

Not the thing to say, apparently, because Ron had given her the most terrified and skeptical look ever. His ginger eyebrow was arched over his blue eyes, his mouth was open and his face was steadily losing color.

"You what?" He didn't wait for an answer. "Is that what Muggles do? Do they just fix everything with string and a needle? How the bloody hell does that work? What in the name of-"

Hermione walked up to Ron and planted a hand on his shoulder, stroked his arm and tried to get him to relax. "Listen to me Ron. No," she put her finger to his lips, "let me talk. You see, because I am Muggle, there are certain things that can happen to me, that won't happen to a pureblood wizard. Instead of seeing a doctor or a full-fledge healer, I'm going to see Healer Pye, because he studied Muggle medicine."

Ron made an 'Oh' face and continued his silence long past Hermione's lecture about Pye. He felt that he should have realized it would have been different for her, being a muggle-born rather than a pureblood Witch. Still, he didn't like the idea of a person being sewn like they were a tear in a jumper. A shiver passed through his body as he thought of being poked with needles. Confunded, those Muggles.

"So, will you go with me on Monday then?" Hermione asked with a hopeful smile on her face.

Ron nodded. "I'll tell Dawlish that I'm coming in late. And from now on, Harry can work on Malfoy's case by himself on late nights...I need to be home for you."

"What's going on with Draco?" Hermione had never wondered before, but Ron had been spending increasing time on this case in the last few months. Her curiosity was getting the best of her.

Ron sighed and sat down on the couch, patting the spot next to him for Hermione to take a seat. It was such a long story, dating back to when they went to Hogwarts; the day that Draco almost killed Albus Dumbledore. Harry had witnessed it and had never forgotten it. But after graduation, they came face to face with Draco once more.

"The day in Diagon Alley, when we were going to get our supplies for the University, do you remember?" Ron inquired.

"Right. We ran into him outside of Flourish and Blotts. He looked awful," Hermione recalled. "Harry almost killed him."

Ron shook his head. "That's the same day we learned about the death of his mother, Narcissa. Conniving wench if I ever met one."

"What does all this have to do with now?"

"Well-" Ron stalled. He didn’t want Hermione to get worried over what was happening, he didn’t want her stressed out. “The news is reporting that Lucius killed Narcissa.” Hermione gasped, but Ron continued, “but the Ministry is pointing the finger at-”

“Draco?” Hermione was on the verge of tears. “Why would he kill his own mother?”

“From everything Harry and I can figure out, it all has to do with the Malfoy Manor, the money and the family honor.” Ron looked sideways at Hermione and could tell by the hand covering her mouth that she was dying to ask a question. He brought her hand from her mouth and laced his fingers with hers. “There’s something I want you to understand…”

Hermione nodded slowly, afraid of what she might hear from Ron. It was bad enough that they were working on a case pro-Malfoy, but if there was something else, it couldn’t be good.

“We’ve been working closely with Malfoy, junior that is, trying to gain some insight into his father’s workings,” Ron said lowly. “Being an Auror…eventually I’ll have to do something more than just paperwork….”

Hermione jerked her hand from Ron’s. She stood up quickly and glared down at him with her finger outstretched threateningly. “I forbid you!”

Ron sputtered. “You what? It’s my job, Hermione! You can’t tell me I can’t-”

Hermione pointed her finger to her stomach. “This means I can tell you whatever I want to Ronald Weasley! You will not go and endanger yourself over a slimy ferret, just so you can…so you can do what, exactly?” Hermione stopped her ranting and quirked an eyebrow. “What will you be doing?”

Ron hesitated. “Er…” Ron’s voice was a frightened whisper as his face paled under Hermione’s glower. “Find Lucius.”

With widened eyes, Hermione sat down next to Ron. “You can’t,” she murmured. “Why would you want to do that?”

Several deep breaths later, Ron answered in haste, “Lucius wants to resurrect Voldemort and we think that killing Narcissa was just the beginning.”

“How does he expect to revive Voldemort? It’s impossible! We’ve destroyed all the Horcruxes and he’s…dead, isn’t he?”

“You’re not naïve, Hermione. There’s loads of dark magic out there that would allow Lucius to bring back…him… Or at least the part of him that will terrify the world.” Ron’s blue eyes glazed over momentarily as he thought of what having the Dark Wizard back would mean. Especially for his Muggle-born wife. “Things will be okay, so long as Harry, Malfoy and I can find Lucius,” Ron promised. “You have to let me do this.”

“What if something happens to you? What am I, no, what are we,” Hermione’s hand wrapped protectively around her stomach, “going to do? I can’t raise the baby alone.”

“Nothing is going to happen.” Ron pulled Hermione into a tight embrace. His hands traveled up and down her arms, causing goose bumps to rise. His lips found her ear as he whispered sweetly, “I love you…” He trailed kissed down her jaw line, to her neck and her chest.

Hermione responded promptly, running her hands up Ron’s back and into his ginger hair. Every touch sparked a new sensation in her; it was almost as if they had never had contact before now. As Ron’s hands began tracing her outline and pushing her backward into the sofa, Hermione’s mind worked over her senses. She sat up quickly almost knocking her head into Ron’s.

“I don’t think…” she said in a rushed pant. “This isn’t, well, I don’t know if it…the baby?”

Ron sighed and ran his hand through this untidy tresses. “Right. I guess we’ll have to…wait.” The annoyance in his voice was at a minimum, but Hermione knew that he missed being with her.

*


“I’m here to see Healer Pye, please,” Hermione announced to the witch at the front desk, who had a quill behind her ear and a full piece of parchment in front of her.

“I don’t have you on the list.” The woman’s voice made Hermione shutter; the nasal sound mixed with the stuck-up prissy tone was too much. “You’ll have to reschedule.”

“I made my appointment a week ago!” Hermione protested. “Weasley, Hermione. Check your records.” Ron put an arm around Hermione’s waist in an effort to calm the impending storm that was raging in her mind.

“Excuse me, Mrs. Weasley, but I’ll have to ask you to reschedule. Healer Pye is-”

“There is no one else here!” Hermione stomped her foot on the ground, dangerously close to Ron’s, and threw caution to the wind. “I will not just turn around and leave. My appointment was for three o’clock on Monday. I’m here. The healer will see me!”

“Hermione,” Ron whispered anxiously in her ear. “We can just come back.”

“Oh, is there a fresh batch of hormones in the office today?” A tall, gangly man came out from behind a wooden door, his square glasses on the bridge of his nose and a wide smile presenting itself. “Mrs. Granger, I will be happy to see you today. If you could just take a seat.” He gestured to the chairs in the office lined against the porcelain white wall. “Verna, dear, you must not do this to every patient that walks in the door,” he muttered quietly to his secretary before heading back through the oak door.

Verna peered at Hermione and offered her a sarcastic smile. Obviously someone was in a foul mood and taking it out on those she could influence. “The Healer will see you now,” Vera drawled in a bored tone before ‘Alohomora’-ing the door.

Hermione smirked as she and Ron walked through the door. “Thank you so much.”

As they entered the Healer’s room, Hermione sat upon the cot and Ron took a stroll around the room. “You could have been nicer to her, you know?” He stuck his hand in a jar filled with cotton puffs, pulled them out and smelled them, only to shove them back in the jar when he realized there was no smell.

“She was a wench! You heard Pye: He could see me today. She was just being nasty. And,” Hermione stood from her seat and grabbed a thin wooden stick from Ron’s hands, “stop touching stuff. It’s supposed to be sterile!”

The door clicked open and in walked Augustus Pye. His narrow shoulders caused his white coat to look too large for his small frame, and it hung short from his waist due to his length. “Hermione,” he started happily, “I gather from your paperwork that you’re Muggle-born, yes?”

Hermione nodded. “Will you be able to help me?” There was a tiny amount of concern in her voice. “With anything…muggle…that could happen, I mean.”

Ron stood behind Hermione and put his hands on her shoulders; he knew how much it was bothering her that they were carrying a half-blood baby. The things that could go wrong were overweighing the things that could go perfectly.

“I’ve dabbled in Muggle medicine,” Pye spoke confidently. “I don’t see any reason why you can’t have a healthy, natural pregnancy, my dear.”

Hermione sighed relief. Ron, on the other hand, had a few questions for the man he had long thought strange. “Why would she need to be sewn up?” Hermione glanced up at him and sent him an irritated glare to which he returned a small smile.

“Arthur Weasley’s son, no doubt,” Augustus smiled. He stuck out his skinny hand and wrung Ron’s hand eagerly. “I’m guessing you take after your mother, though? She wasn’t happy about the stitches either, I’m afraid.”

“You fixed him with thread.” Ron grimaced. “And a needle!”

“It was worth the try to save his life. Surely you understand?” He surveyed Ron over his spectacles and chuckled. “I suppose it’s difficult for a person raised completely around magic. Will you be alright with my methods of tracking your wife’s pregnancy?”

Before Ron could answer honestly, Hermione elbowed him in the ribs. “Uh…Yeah, I’ll be fine…”

“Now, dear, you’ll have to answer a few questions for me, okay?” Augustus turned back to her with a wide smile playing on his lips. When Hermione nodded, he continued. “Date of last menstruation?”

“October the second,” she answered with confidence.

“Swelling, nausea, vomiting?”

“No to swelling, but I have been sick,” Hermione said worriedly.

“Not to be concerned, it’s normal. Now, have you had major mood swings lately?”

Hermione shook her head, “Not-”

“Yes, she has,” Ron butted in. “Can you fix it?” Hermione scowled at him. “Err, I mean, will it…continue long?”

“Not so long, no. She’ll be fine in a few months. It has to do with her estrogen levels and the new hormones that the baby is producing.” Augustus winked at Ron, knowing his difficult position.

“Cheers,” Ron said almost inaudibly.

“Swell!” The Healer placed his chart on the counter and began evaluating the patient in front of him. “Okay, Hermione, I’ll need to you lye back with your feet,” he reached for something underneath the chair’s bottom, “in these.”

Ron stuttered, “W-what?” He looked nervously to Hermione and then to the metal feet holders in front of her. “I mean…W-what?”

“Oh, right! I’m sorry,” Augustus shook his head, “Mr. Weasley, please exit the room with me while Mrs. Weasley changes into this.” He was holding up a blue gown with only strings to tie. “Those tie in the back, Hermione.”

Augustus grabbed Ron gently by the elbow and led him from the room. The last thing Hermione saw from Ron was a horrified expression and his face turning beet red. She quickly removed her bottoms and sat upon the table, waiting for the Healer and her husband to come back.

After several minutes, a knock on the door signaled their entrance. “Are we all set, my dear?” Augustus asked her sweetly. “I know this can be nerve-wracking, but you’re in good hands…healing hands.” He winked and chuckled.

Hermione fidgeted with the fabric of her blue gown. She had been given female tests before, but she was unsure as to what was going to happen this time around. “What should I expect?” Her worry was not hidden.

“This gel,” the man held up a small bottle of blue liquid, “helps for ultrasonic waves from this,” he held up a small instrument shaped like a paddle, “to give me a picture of the baby.”

“You’re mad,” Ron blurted out. “The baby isn’t even big enough to see. No, Hermione come on, we’re leaving.”

“Ronald!” Hermione looked to him furiously. “This is how it works in the Muggle world, be happy that Healer Pye is doing this!”

Augustus put down the things in his hands and walked over to Ron. “I know this isn’t easy, but keep in mind it is in the best interest of your wife and child.”

Ron gave up, hanging his head and refusing to meet either of their eyes or expressions. Hermione, who had jumped up at Ron’s wish to leave, was settling back into her seat. When Augustus put the liquid on her stomach, Hermione twitched and sucked in a deep breath. Ron was next to her in a heartbeat.

“Is everything okay?” He stroked her hair. “Does that…goop…hurt?”

“It’s cold,” Hermione assured him. “And sticky… Eww, I think I might throw up.” Her hand covered her mouth expectantly, but she was quickly soothed when there were squiggly black lines appearing on a miniature TV. “Is that…”

Augustus smiled, “That’s your baby, dear.” He moved the paddle around Hermione’s stomach, catching little blips and recording them on a piece of parchment. “Congratulations.”

Ron stared at the miniature TV in awe. “What is this and where is it?”

“This is a sonogram,” Pye answered with a grin. “And your baby is right here.” He pointed to a small, peanut-shaped wavy line.

“It’s so tiny,” Hermione whispered through her hand.

“This is creepy. So, you’re showing me Hermione’s insides right now?” Ron was in shock with the Muggle machine. “I mean…we can see the baby any time?”

“No, son, I’m sorry,” Pye warned, “you will only receive a few ultra-sounds. If it’s used too much, there could be problems.”

“But we’ll get to see it again?” Ron asked hopefully, not understanding a word the Healer had just said.

Augustus shook his head. “Now, one more thing before you go.” He wiped off Hermione’s belly and did a small test that neither Ron or Hermione paid much attention to; especially concerning that area. Both were scared about the questions they wanted to ask.

After his gloves were disposed, Augustus picked up his chart, took a few notes and motioned to Hermione that she could remove her feet from the stirrups. “If you have any questions…”

Hermione’s face burned scarlet. “We have one about…well, you see, we don’t know if…Will it hurt the baby if we’re intimate?”

The Healer chortled, but tried to hide it under a cough. “Absolutely nothing to worry about, you two. The only time you cannot have intercourse is when your water breaks or you start having contractions.”

“What?” Ron’s discomfort was starting to grow. These were a lot of new steps for him to take, but water breaking and contractions did not sound like they were fun. “What’s that now?”

Hermione laughed and grabbed Ron’s hand. “I’ll explain it all later, love. Thank you, doctor, for your helpfulness.”

“Not at all,” Pye said genuinely. “I’d like to see you once a month for routine exams. Other than that, if you have any problems, feel free to floo my office. Please, no apparation.”

Hermione squeezed Ron’s hand tightly. “Err.. Right. Thank you, Augustus. We appreciate you helping.” The last word was spoken as a questionable guess.

“My pleasure.” Augustus walked from the room, leaving the young couple behind.

Hermione stood from the table and grabbed her knickers and jeans from the bedside. “What a relief!”

Ron’s arms snaked around Hermione’s waist before she got her bottoms on. “So that means we’re okay to…”

Hermione giggled and rolled her eyes. “Not here!”






Author’s Note - This chapter is dedicated to SAYS, but even more, it is dedicated to three very special people - Elf_Ears13, Infairi and Dobby101. Without you girls, I’d be boring; you keep things fun and efficient. I can’t thank you enough for your dedication to SAYS and I love you all very much! *huggles* ~Jessi

Chapter 5: Week Twelve - Fat and Irritated
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Author's Note - This chapter is dedicated to all the women out there that have been or are pregnant. You know how this goes, I'm sure... =) And, much thanks to PrincessPotter for the prettyful new banner! *fangirl*






Hermione fidgeted restlessly in her bed. She had grown quite uncomfortable lying on her stomach and even worse when she would try to lie on her back. Ron wasn't helping matters at all. He refused to budge when Hermione would shove him away, and barely made a movement when she kicked him in the shin. With an agitated sigh, she got up from the bed and walked in to the loo, slamming the door behind her to drown out Ron's grizzly snores.

Trying her best to relax, Hermione turned the hot water knob in the shower as far as it could go. She dropped her clothes quickly and stepped into the steam, instantly slumping from the caresses of the hot water on her aching skin. The dribbles of water began to turn tepid after a while and, as luck would have it, Hermione hadn't even started cleansing herself. With a heavy sigh, she turned off the water and stepped out onto the shaggy floormat that caught the drips of water from her hair and body.

Her hands carefully stroked the fluffy towel around her body, drying off the cooled splashes and leaving her skin dry and supple. The fog in the bathroom began dissipating as Hermione walked up to the mirror to fix her hair up into a knot. She gasped and covered her mouth as her reflection shined back at her, more plump and swelled than the last time she had looked. Her hand immediately went down to the little bump forming on her abdomen and tears welled up in her eyes. The towel that she had discarded previously was now wrapped tightly around her body as she exited the loo and walked up to her comfortably sleeping husband.

"Ronald Weasley!" She shrieked in his ear, causing him to jump up from his lethargic state and nearly knock heads with Hermione.

"Whassgoinon?" He asked groggily. "What? Hermione, what?"

Tears were in her eyes and her hand was clenching the beige towel even more firmly against her body as to not let any bit of skin show. She flung herself down on the bed, crashing down on Ron's tired legs. He flinched and immediately pulled his legs from beneath her, which sparked an even bigger onset of tears from Hermione. Sighing and running a deft hand through his hair, Ron eyed his wife and warily scooted toward her. His arm went to circle her shoulders, but she pulled away.

"Hermione, what's going on with you?" He casually glanced at the clock on their bedside table, which read three o'clock. "Why are you showering at three in the morning and why are you crying?"

"I can't get comfortable," she muttered angrily. "You take up more than half of the damn bed." Her eyes shot dangerously at Ron, who recoiled for a split second.

"Would you rather I sleep on the couch?" He huffed.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'd still be able to hear your ungodly snoring." She stood from the bed and crossed the room to find a nightgown to wear to bed so that she could try to get comfortable.

As she started dressing, she glanced back at Ron who was watching her in relief and curiosity. Her cheeks burned crimson and she took her nightie into the loo to put it on properly; without peeping eyes. Her cover slipped from her body and she tried unsuccessfully not to glance in the mirror. The little bump on her stomach was protruding enough for anyone to notice it and it made her feel as if she had gained three stones over night. Tears cascaded down her cheeks as she wrapped herself up in her nightgown. A small sob escaped her throat when she noticed the bump was noticable through the cream colored nightgown.

Ron popped his head into the bathroom only to see Hermione leaning against the wall trying to adjust her already straight gown. His eyes went to where her hand was pulling the gown out from her stomach, as if she were trying to stretch it. When she let it go, it hung loosely over a small pouch. A tiny smile tugged his lips as he walked over to Hermione and cupped her cheeks in his hands.

"She's growing," he whispered as one hand moved down to cover her abdomen. The other skillfully grazed her cheek and moved back into her hair as he pulled her lips onto his.

Hermione shoved Ron away. "I'm getting fat!" She shouted, glaring at Ron. "My stomach is stretching, I won't be able to fit in my clothes. I'm going to have to wear moo-moos and I'll waddle and..." She looked down at the protrution and let a harsh groan escape her throat.

Ron took Hermione's hands in his and placed them over her stomach. "You're not fat. You're pregnant," he tried to convince her. When she scoffed in response, he shook his head. "You didn't think you'd stay the same, did you?"

Hermione removed one of her hands from Ron's hold and wiped the tears from her eyes. "I didn't think I'd gain any weight already. I mean, it's only been twelve weeks. Don't women normally gain weight later?" Hermione's jaw dropped and her eyes were wide and bloodshot. "What if I gain a hundred pounds? I mean, what if I'm defective or something?"

Ron tried to stifle a chuckle, but was unsuccessful. "You won't gain a hundred pounds, Hermione."

"I won't, or you don't want me to?" Hermione eyed Ron suspiciously. "You won't love me if I get fat, will you? You'll leave me and..."

He put a finger over her lips to stop the ranting. Drawing closer to her, he breathed in earnest. "Do you really think I'm that shallow, love? You could be heavier than a bloody hippogriff and I'd love you just like I love you now."

"You think I'll be as big as a hippogriff!" Hermione's lip trembled. "That's not possible, is it?"

Ron shook his head, his red hair landing messily in his eyes. "Not going to happen."

Hermione made to interrupt, her mouth was starting to open and Ron could already hear the callous tone she was going use, but he cut her off quickly as he crashed his lips to hers. After he felt her relax, he pulled away and glided his fingers along her jawline.

"And, even if it does, I'll still love you, maybe even more so," he chuckled. "You'd definitely be one of a kind." He put his hand to his chin and smirked. "Not even Eloise Midgeon..."

Hermione punched Ron on the arm and grinned. "Finish that sentence and you're dead!"

*


Hermione stared at Ron as he guzzled down his extra strong coffee. Jealousy flooded her; her arms were crossed over her chest and her eyes were narrowed, daring him to speak one word to her. It wasn't fair that after the episode last night, being up until five in the morning, he could wake up instantly with the glorious jolts of caffeine, and her pregnant, tired self had to suffer the consequences of Ron's male hormones playing up.

"Will you be late tonight?" She asked him with edge.

Ron quirked an eyebrow. "Planning on having your boyfriend over?" His grin reached his eyes, but quickly fell when Hermione answered.

"Oh yes," she sighed. "We just can't wait to have this flat all to ourselves. All the christening we can do in all the rooms." Hermione giggled and stood from the table, throwing Ron a cheeky grin.

In seconds Ron had jumped after her and pushed her to the wall, his hands on either side of her head. "You're a naughty girl, you know that?"

Hermione grinned. "I'm perfectly innocent." Her eyes were round as galleons as she batted her eyelashes at him. "Have a wonderful day, love."

She pecked him on the cheek and ducked under his arms. Ron put his fist to the wall. Why does she do that? His sexual frustration was at an all time high ever since her hormones changed. She seemed more cheeky, something he missed after they had gotten married. If he was mental, he could almost say he wanted her pregnant all the time. Finally, he moved from the wall over to the floo and left for work with a cheesy smile planted on his face.

Just after Ron left, Hermione made her way to the floo, hoping to catch Ginny at her flat. She dropped the powder and shouted very clearly for the Potter flat.

"Hermione!" Ginny screeched. "How are you? What's wrong? What has my prat of a brother done now?" The scowl on her face caused Hermione to laugh once more.

"No, nothing like that. I just..." Hermione closed her eyes and tried to put away her feelings of inadequecy over gaining weight. "I need to do some shopping and I'd rather not go alone."

Ginny didn't answer, instead she apparated straight into Hermione's apartment with a determined face. "Well, are we going or what?"

*


Dinner was served just as Ron stepped from the floo. Hermione was bustling around the kitchen in her latest maternity outfit, humming an off-key tune. He sneaked up behind her and put his hands around her waist, resting his hands on her stomach. He kissed her on the cheek as she sank into him.

"New outfit?" Ron spun her around and took a glance at her. The robes were plain black and tied around the back. "You look beautiful."

"Ginny and I went shopping. My," she paused and breathed deep, "clothes were a bit tight."

"And did Ginny choose your clothes?" He leaned closer in interest. He knew Hermione hated shopping and that she was most likely to buy a million books before she bought herself new robes. She nodded and he smiled. "What's for dinner?"

"Pasta with Pesto. And I was thinking, maybe for dessert we could..." She trailed off as her hand travelled the length of Ron's chest. She glanced up at Ron, her eyes clouded over.

Ron pulled Hermione close and kissed her passionately; her eyes fluttered shut and her breathing picked up. His taste was a craving on its own. She couldn't take herself away from him. Every time he moved away, she would follow him and engage him in another session.

Ron moved and this time blocked himself from Hermione. "I've got somewhere I want to take you later," he ground out, with his hand to his forehead. "It's rather important."

Hermione's fevered body was unaware of the anxiety Ron was emitting. "Alright, well, what is it for?"

"It's a surprise of sorts," Ron answered hastily. "Let's eat?"

Confused, Hermione nodded and walked over to the pesto and filled her plate. She pecked around her plate, lost in thought over a surprise that Ron could be planning for her. All of the major things were out of the way; wedding, pregnancy. Maybe he had gotten a promotion! That would help when she had to take off of Hogwarts for maternity leave. When they were both done eating and filled to the brim with food, Hermione started to clear the table and clean the mess. Ron gently held her wrist and sent her to relax. He took care of the dishes and even used the dish washer the right way for the first time ever.

"So, about that surprise," Hermione prompted as Ron entered the living room. "What is it?"

Ron didn't answer, but his eyes lit up in a childish way. He waltzed to Hermione and grabbed her hand, taking care while yanking her from the couch and leading her outside.

"Ron! Where are we going?" She asked as he led her down the street. "What..."

"Will you just enjoy the stroll in the moonlight?" Ron heaved in irritation. "Let me surprise you, perhaps?"

"It'd be nice to know..." Hermione stopped herself and followed her husband silently until they reached an almost abandoned park. "Why are we here?" She questioned curiously.

"Accio, Clean Sweep." Ron flicked his wand and, after a few seconds a rushing sound filled the silent night air.

"Ron?" Hermione was worried. His Clean Sweep wasn't going to do them any good. Hermione tugged on Ron's arm as the broom came to a halt in front of them. "We are not..." Her voice faltered as she felt Ron drag her forward toward the handle of the broom. "Ronald! I am not getting on that... thing!"

"Please, let me take you somewhere. I'm safe. I've been flying for ages," he pleaded. "We can't apparate because of your condition. We can't floo there because it's not in the network."

"I can't get on a broom, Ron!" Hermione shrieked and pulled her hand from his. "You can't expect a pregnant woman to get on one of those death traps!"

Ron groaned. "Hermione, you'll be fine, really. I promise." He put his hand on his heart and pierced her eyes with his.

"I'll weigh it down!" Hermione yelped. "It can't support two of us, much less a very pregnant woman!"

Ron sighed. "You are not fat!"

Hermione was affronted. Her hands went immediately to her hips and her already narrowed eyes shot daggers at Ron. "Did I say anything about being fat? So, that's how you feel? Because I'm pregnant, I'm fat?"

"Did I say...I didn't...Merlin!" Ron cursed as he looked up at the sky. "Listen, Hermione. I don't think you're fat. I don't think you'll get fat. I think you're pregnant and beautiful. Just get on the damn broom."

She sneered in return. "Oh, and now you're ordering me around? Let me tell you something, Ronald Billius Weasley." Hermione took strategically slow steps toward Ron, her finger outstretched and she jabbed him in the chest. "I am not some tart you can just give orders to. You think you can just take me away on a romantic flight and I'll be fine. No, first you call me fat and then you insist that I get on a thin piece of wood with twigs at the end. How does that spell safety to you?" Her chest was heaving and her temperature was raised so high that her cheeks were flaming red.

"Fine!" Ron cracked. "I'll do it here." He planted himself on the ground and looked up at Hermione. "Please sit next to me."

Hermione smirked internally at her victory and sat down a few feet away from Ron. Her temper was finally calming down when she noticed the difficulty Ron was having with getting his words out. "Ron?" She questioned quietly.

"I've been given the assignment," he muttered almost inaudibly. "The Malfoy case."

Hermione sat in stunned silence staring at Ron, who refused to meet her eyes. His hands fiddled with the grass, uprooting several blades and tossing them to the side. She tried to form words, but somehow they weren't leaving her mouth.

"I'm to leave... soon," he finally continued. "And, as much as I don't want to, Hermione... I have to."

"Where are you going?" She squeaked.

Ron put his hand on hers and coerced her closer to him. When her head rested on his shoulder, he sighed as he felt the tears burning his eyelids. "I can't tell you. It could put you in danger."

Hermione's lip quivered and her brow furrowed. "How long will you be gone?" Her hand went straight to the tiny lump that was her abdomen.

"I won't come back until Lucius is caught. Otherwise I could put our family at risk," Ron replied bitterly.

"And, when do you leave?"

There was a pregnant pause before Ron answered. He held his breath and in one hesitant word, he answered her. "Tomorrow."






Author's Note - I am SO sorry for the insane wait on this chapter. Lots of things are going on lately. I hope you enjoyed! More to come soon!! =) ~Jessi

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