A/N: I do not own a thing. Read AND Review please. I get crap all reviews. I'm starting to think I suck.
He hadn't seen anything quite like it in over twelve years. There was dust kicked up off the floor, the roof was falling down around him; and it looked as if every single painting had been simultaneously blasted off the wall, crashing to the floor. The table and chairs were strewn across the room and he found himself slightly panicked at the memory.
Five minutes ago, after a long day at the office, as he did everyday at half-past five
Ron Weasley had stepped out of the fireplace.
And into a war zone.
It had startled him at first. His wand had been drawn in the blink of the eye and he had rushed frantically around the house looking for his wife and daughter in the mess.
"NO!" screeched a high pitched child's voice. "It's disgusting!"
"I swear to god, if you don't get down off that table and eat your bloody cereal, you will not be going flying. And no Hogwarts: A History either!" bellowed Hermione.
He broke into a jog and after following the angry screams, found them in the kitchen, in what resembled the beginnings of a wizarding duel. Hermione was standing at the far end of the kitchen, near the oven, her brown frizzy hair looking four times as large as is normally did, and a look of sheer fury on her face as she glared at her nemesis.
Their two and a half year old daughter Rose.
Rose on the other hand, was standing on the kitchen table, her arms folded, as far away from her mother as she could possible get without having to move below eye level. Her expression mirrored her mother's and her dark red hair, as wild as Hermione's, was standing out at all kinds of odd angles under a bowl of cereal that was now empty, its contents all over Rose and the table.
He could feel the magical energy crackling in the room and wasn't quite sure what to do.
Ron looked back and forth between the two and contemplated his next move. He knew how to deal with Hermione when she was this furious, and Rosie was an easy target usually, but both of them at once?
Ron seriously considered running screaming in the opposite direction and going on holiday to a remote island where he would be safe. Then he remembered he was a Gryffindor, and it was not acceptable to run away like a coward.
He considered calling Harry to come over and help him. Yeah, that could work, he thought, his mind flashing images of Harry grabbing Hermione and Ron yanking Rose off the table before either knew what was happening. He shook he head.
No, this was something he had to sort out himself. One day he would have to, he thought. Rose was going to be a teenage girl eventually, and from what he had witnessed between his mother and Ginny, he was already dreading a full scale battle of the wills between Hermione and a teenage Rose.
Hermione may not be a Weasley by blood, but she sure as hell had the bloody temper of one. Especially when she was pregnant. Something inside Ron clicked, and it was like someone had illuminated a dark room in light.
Shit.
If Hermione was indeed pregnant, which, when he thought about her behaviour and actions over the last few weeks seemed a very likely possibility; he needed to calm her down.
She had had a few problems when pregnant with Rose, high blood pressure and such, and had spent the last two months of her pregnancy driving him absolutely insane and he'd be damned if he was going to let her stress herself into bed this time.
He set his chin and rolled up his sleeves, preparing for battle. He stepped into the kitchen.
Both heads snapped to him immediately, their menacing glares penetrating his very being. He felt a sinking in his stomach. He was in over his head.
"Hi girls," he said nervously, stepping further into the kitchen and half-smiling at them.
They said nothing and turned away from him, resuming their glaring. Ron gulped and moved over to Rose, plucking the cereal bowl off her head and wincing slightly at the dried milk and cereal that was stuck to her hair. She looked up at him.
Ron decided to tackle the lesser of the two evils.
"Rosie. What's going on?" he asked as he pulled bits of cereal from her hair. She stuck her bottom lip and looked at him.
"Mummy made me eat yucky. And I don't want to," she pouted, making eyes at him. Ron nodded and looked at Hermione.
"What happened?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. Hermione scowled at him.
"I'm not a child Ron, so don't speak to me like one," she snapped, grabbing a cloth and starting to wipe down the benches. Her shoulders started to shake.
"Look what she did to the house Ron," she cried, whirling around and holding her hands out. "She didn't want to eat her stupid bloody cereal so she demolished the house." Ron turned to Rose who had the decency to look slightly guilty.
"How'd you do it Rosie?" he said, resting his knee on the chair so he was eye level with her.
"I thought it."
"You thought it?" he asked, bewildered. "You just thought it and it happened?"
She nodded. Ron looked at Hermione again who was wiping the counter down furiously trying to clean the remnants of her obvious baking experiment.
"Why aren't you using your wand?" he asked, not really wanting to know the answer.
"Ask your daughter." Ron turned to Rose again, and raised his eyebrows expectantly.
"I broke it Daddy," she whispered, her bottom lip quivering. Hermione had moved towards them and her face had softened at the sight of Rose's tears. She moved to reach out a hand and let out a soft whimpering sound as Rose flinched and retreated into Ron's arms.
Hermione had begun to cry again, softly this time; and as his eyes met hers over the top of Rose's head, she turned and ran from the room.
"You should apologise to Mummy you know," he said firmly as he picked her up and started to move towards the bathroom to tidy her up. She shook her head.
"No. Mummy was mean." Ron let out a breath and placed her on the counter and stooped to eye level again.
"And I'm going to talk to her after you are in bed. But I really think you over-reacted. The house is a mess Rosie. It's going to take a long time to fix it. You need to control your temper. Because when you get angry, you do magic. And that's ok; it's expected, but don't you think destroying the lounge is a bit much?" he asked her. She nodded.
"Does Mummy hate me now?" she whispered fearfully. Ron shook his head immediately.
"Not a chance. She loves you. I think she's just got a bit on her plate at the moment. Come on; let's get you in bed early today. You look tired." As he finished, as if on cue, Rosie let out a small yawn. Ron finished tidying her up and tucked her into bed, kissing her forehead and turning her nightlight on.
"Night love," he said quietly.
"Night Daddy," she replied, "I love you. And Mummy. Tell her?" Ron nodded and pulled the door shut.
He found Hermione sitting on the floor in the lounge in the middle of the debris, her knees pulled up to her chest. She looked up at him, her eyes red.
"Is she ok? Oh Ron! I yelled at her terribly! I don't know what happened, I just go so mad!" she said through sobs. Ron knelt in front of her.
"It happened last time," he reasoned brushing her fringe out of her eyes. She cocked her head and looked at him.
"Last time what?" she asked curiously, her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to remember.
"Hermione, I know you're pregnant," he said grinning, "I just don't know why you didn't tell me. I mean you're temper didn't get like this until you were over two months along with Rosie. You must've known for ages."
"I'm not pregnant Ron," she said, shaking her head. Ron raised his eyebrows again.
"Hermione, your fuse is as long as a matchstick, you can't have accidentally put cinnamon in every meal we've had this week and I can guarantee it wasn't just Rosie's accidental magic that did this," he gestured around them. She still looked bewildered.
Then slowly realisation dawned on her face and she looked at him, her eyes wide.
"Oh." Ron nodded.
"Caught on have you?" he said, smirking and pulling her into a hug. They started laughing and kissing as if their lives depended on it. She pulled away and looked at him in awe.
"We're having a baby," she breathed and started to stand up. "We should clean this up." Ron shook his head and gestured to the coat of icing sugar, cream and cake mix that covered Hermione's clothes and skin.
"Let's leave it 'til tomorrow and get you cleaned up," he said suggestively, resting his hands on her waist. She laughed and looked up at him, still smiling brilliantly and ran her fingers through his red hair.
"I'll go run a bath then shall I?" she said, turning away towards the stairs. She had almost reached the bottom when Ron spoke again.
"Who said anything about a bath?"