Written for the Iron Fic competition at the Teachers' Lounge with the prompt being "I love the nightlife" by Alicia Keys.

Don't Talk About Love Tonight

"Women all over town? Is that what she said?" Harry was trying to be sympathetic, but was having a hard time keeping a straight face. Fortunately, Ron was not looking at him, but had his eyes fixed on the beer bottle held between his hands. He took a swig from it before he answered.

"Yep. What does that even mean? Okay, I kissed Verity, but I was drunk and so was she, and Hermione was there, for Merlin's sake. And Hannah was nothing more than a peck on the cheek…"

"… or Neville would have Nagini'd you," Harry put in, unable to resist a grin now. "What about Lavender?"

Ron groaned and leaned back, a hand over his eyes. "Can't we forget Lavender?" he said pleadingly. "She was my first girlfriend, and I hadn't seen her for ages and Hermione was out of town…"

"Or so you thought, until she walked in on you snogging," said Harry. He swigged his own beer, openly laughing now.

"It was a mistake! And we weren't snogging. It was one kiss! One!" Ron protested. "You'd've done the same if you met Cho out of the blue. Don't you remember what kissing her felt like?"

"Wet," said Harry, and Ron snorted. "In all the wrong ways. And I've got enough common sense not to go kissing an ex-girlfriend in public, whether my wife's out of town or not."

"It wasn't in public!"

"A shop window in Diagon Alley is pretty public by my reckoning, even if the shop was closed," Harry pointed out. "Anyone could have seen you, let alone Hermione. What if Lulu Skeeter had seen you? Gossip column of the Prophet – or even the front page. You're lucky it was just Hermione really."

"Lucky? You've got to be kidding!" Ron slurped the last of his beer and threw the bottle towards the bin in the corner, despite Harry's hand raised in warning. The bottle clattered against the bin and rolled across the wooden floor noisily, and there was a wail from upstairs. Both men froze, their eyes raised to the ceiling. Then Ron relaxed, and slumped back into his chair.

"Not Rosie," he said. "Sorry mate."

Harry glared at him. "I should make you go," he said. "Al's a menace when he wakes up, and it was your fault." Still he headed towards the stairs, leaving Ron alone with a fresh bottle of beer and his thoughts.

RHRHRHRHRH

"Aren't you ready, yet?" Hermione was getting impatient.

"I can't make this hang right," Ginny complained, pulling at the long green top that covered her – very expanded – waistline. "I look like a whale."

"You look fine," Fleur reassured her.

"For a whale," Ginny put in. "Why did I ever agree to this?"

"Because we need to cheer Hermione up," Angelina told her briskly. "Anyway, I'm no better. If you're a whale, I'm a dinosaur."

Ginny shook her head doubtfully. "You're tall. Being pregnant suits you. I just look like a blob."

Hermione had retreated to the corner of the room and was examining her hair critically in the dressing table mirror; she was also biting her lip. Fleur exchanged a worried look with Audrey, who was watching Hermione too. There was more going on here than either of them knew.

"Let's get going!" Audrey said, standing up from her seat on the bed. "We all look fabulous, and we're going to have a great night out. Come on, girls!" And she headed for the door without looking to see if they were following her or not.

RHRHRHRHRH

"So what exactly did Hermione say?" Harry asked. "Going out on the town isn't really her thing. She must have said something more than the nonsense about your women all over town." He had come downstairs, having finally pacified Albus, to find Ron finishing his second bottle of beer and eyeing a third. He had taken it away from him firmly, and made coffee.

Ron shook his head and leant back in his chair. "Oh, I dunno. I don't get her at all at the moment. One minute she's working all hours at the Ministry, then the next she's saying we don't see enough of each other. Then day before yesterday when we were going to bed, she bursts into tears when I told her I was going to Hogsmeade for the staff do on Tuesday, says I have all the fun, and storms off to sleep in the spare bed in Rosie's room. This morning she tells me, they're having a girls' night out, that I'd better look after my daughter for once – 'for once', I ask you! Don't I do my share with Rosie? And that perhaps she'll kiss a few men, since I seem to have women all over town. Then she sweeps off out to work before I can get a word in."

Harry couldn't help smirking at his brother-in-law's injured tone. "Don't try to understand women, mate," he advised. "You're onto a loser before you start. Is it the wrong time of the month, maybe?"

"Maybe… Oh shit!" A dawning light of realisation came into Ron's eyes and he set down his mug with a bang. "I'm an idiot," he groaned. "A total idiot."

"What?" Harry demanded. "More than usual, you mean?"

Ron nodded, and, surprisingly, reddened. "Yeah, well," he muttered. "You know it took – a while – before Rosie came along. Longer that we liked anyway. Well…" He sighed. "We're trying again, and it isn't happening. And if it is – that time of the month – well, it means another month when it hasn't happened." He ducked his head and ran his fingers through his hair. "Damn, damn, damn. I'm an idiot."

Harry grimaced. "I don't see how going out with two pregnant women is going to help if that's the case," he said.

Ron sighed. "Nor me. Probably just make it worse. Oh damn. Damn, damn, damn."

There didn't seem to be anything more to say.

RHRHRHRHRH

The music was loud and the dance floor was hot and very crowded. Hermione closed her eyes and lifted her arms and danced and swayed and tried not to think.

"Concentrate on this. Live in the moment," she told herself. "This is enough for now. Really."

There were bodies pressed all around her, hot and sweaty and she knew she had had too much to drink. A face swam into view, dark-eyed, not bad looking, the mouth leering at her.

"Dance with me, darlin'? You look like a girl who knows how to have fun." He was grabbing at her already, an arm around her waist, the other hand reaching for hers. She was going to go with it -Merlin knew, she deserved some excitement now and again. But then a hand closed on her other wrist and a steely voice, tinged with a French accent spoke.

"Thank you, but my friend is ver' busy. And ver' married," and before she knew what was happening, Fleur had towed her over to a seat near the bar and placed a large glass of sparkling water in front of her.

"Drink," she ordered. Hermione shook her head.

"I'd rather have another cocktail," she said. She knew she was whining, but somehow she couldn't help herself. "I don't see why the boys should have all the fun."

Fleur's stern gaze softened. "Are you 'aving fun, Hermione?" she asked quietly. "Really?"

"Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?" Aware that her voice was slightly higher than usual and that there were tears gathering in her eyes, Hermione buried her face in her glass. Then, before Fleur could stop her, she set it down and returned to the dance floor.

Fleur watched her for a minute, and then walked over to where Audrey and Angelina were sitting. Ginny had already gone to join Hermione. The four of them had decided she should not be left alone if they could help it.

"We think we've worked it out," Angelina said without preamble. "It's babies."

"Babies?" Fleur asked with a frown. "What do you mean?"

"Think about it," Audrey said, pushing Fleur's glass across the table to her. "We have two, you have three. Angie here and Ginny are adding to their families any day now…"

"Have a heart!" Angelina cut in. "I'm not due till Christmas! That's ages away!"

Audrey waved away the interruption. "Soon anyway," she said airily. "And Ron and Hermione have only Rose. Last time Angie and Ginny had a baby, Hermione did too. This time there's no sign of one. And I know they waited longer than they wanted to for Rose."

Fleur frowned and took a sip of her wine. She nodded, a serious look on her face. "I think zat you are right," she conceded. "Poor Hermione. No wonder she is so sad and trying not to show it."

There was a disturbance behind them. Hermione was coming towards them, supporting Ginny, who was crying. A tall man in a bouncer's uniform, who looked distinctly flustered, was following them.

"What on earth 'as 'appened?" Fleur gasped, setting down her glass and going forward to Ginny's other side. "What is the matter?"

"My water broke!" Ginny wailed. "The baby's coming!"

RHRHRHRHRH

Ron stopped in the doorway, the breakfast tray held before him, and watched his wife sleep. Her face was flushed, there were mascara trails on her cheeks, and her hair was a wild tangle across the pillow. She looked beautiful. Ron thought ruefully that he was a very lucky man.

He crossed the room quietly, set down the tray on the bedside table and went to open the curtains. He sat down on the bed beside Hermione as she stirred and opened her eyes, wincing against the light.

"Oooh-er, grr, ugg, wassertime?" she asked groggily, blinking up at him.

"Just after eleven," he said, proffering a small vial of greyish liquid. "Swallow it quick, it tastes disgusting."

She did as he told her, choking slightly at the taste of the potion. "Charlie's hangover cure?" she asked faintly. "I never thought it would taste that bad."

He smiled mirthlessly. "Yeah, well you've never needed it before," he pointed out.

Realisation dawned abruptly, and she clutched at her husband's arm. "Ginny?" she asked. "The baby? Where are Rose and the boys?"

"Calm down, no need to panic," Ron said, moving a pillow behind her back and setting the tray across her knees. "No news from the hospital yet, but Ginny takes these things slow. She did with James and Albus too. And the kids are all fine – Bill and Fleur came earlier and took them off to The Burrow. The whole family's there by now."

"Except us," Hermione said quietly, sipping her tea. Despite the hangover cure, she somehow did not feel like eating anything. "Ron, I…" Her voice caught and she swallowed. He leant forward and kissed her, almost sending the tray flying.

"I know," he said. "No baby this month. I should've realised. I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too." She was crying now.

"Hey…" He set the tray to one side and took her in his arms. "We have each other, and we have Rose. That's enough for me. Anything more will be a bonus. And I love you."

Hermione settled into his arms, which were warm and strong and familiar. "I love you too," she whispered.

RHRHRHRHRH

Later – quite a lot later –they sat and ate breakfast in their sunny kitchen.

"You never told me about last night," Ron said, taking a bite of toast and marmalade. "Where did you go?"

Hermione smiled. "A Muggle nightclub," she said. "It was a bit eighties. All Bee Gees and disco and men in white suits with mullets."

Ron frowned. "The trouble with being married to you," he observed, "is that half the time I don't know if I don't understand because what you're talking about is Muggle or because you're just cleverer than me."

She smiled at him. "Bit of both this time I think," she said. "Are you ready to go?"

"Yeah." He stood up slowly, stretching and reaching out a hand to her. "If you are. What was the name of this place, anyway? Just in case I need to find out what a Bee Gee or a mullet is?"

Hermione giggled as she took his hand prior to Apparating to The Burrow.

"Hugo's," she said. "It was called Hugo's. But I don't think you'd like it much."