A/N: Another one that was originally a headcanon by weasleywrinkles on tumblr who has the best headcanons ever and lets me write them into fics :3

Disclaimer: Blah blah blah blah I do not own Harry Potter blah blah blah blah

Ron was worried. He was growing increasingly concerned as the days went on, and it was all his wife's fault. Hermione had been acting weird for the past week. At first he put it down to work related stress but as time went on, it appeared that her work was not what was bothering her.

He'd tried to get it out of her. Being in an intimate relationship with somebody for near 7 years had taught Ron a lot about feelings and opening up. It'd been hard at first, but they had finally reached a position where they were comfortable sharing anything with each other. Problems, worries, secrets, fears. Anything. Which was what had him so worried; ever since the war they'd had a strict 'no secrets' policy, and Ron couldn't believe that Hermione would dismiss that if it were not for something completely serious.

Maybe he was overreacting? It wasn't as if she was completely different in everything. No, it was just the little things Ron picked up on. The seemingly irrelevant questions that came from nowhere, growing unreasonably frustrated when he didn't answer all that seriously. Becoming unreasonably frustrated with everything. Like the other day when they'd babysat James and Hermione had become teary over the fact that she couldn't get him to stay put whilst she changed him. All the little things that he picked up on added together to make a big thing. There was the possibility that it was nothing, of course. But Ron's gut was telling him that it wasn't nothing, and if there's one thing that he's learnt from becoming an Auror, it's to always trust his gut.

Only problem was, he had no idea what the thing that wasn't nothing was. It was something, but what?

Ron thought back to when her behaviour began. He remembered her being weirdly distant when he returned from the week long Auror mission he'd been assigned. She hadn't even had her usual drink in the bar they'd gone to celebrate in immediately following his return. That was weird. Ron added that to his mental list he was making in his head. Yeah, her behaviour had definitely started when he returned. So, he concluded that that meant that something must've happened whilst he was away.

The first thoughts into Ron's brain were of old insecurities and fears. What if she got bored of him and had a fling with another man? And that's why she was acting weird, because she felt guilty? Ron felt ill, but he couldn't stop the thoughts from entering his brain. What if she was still seeing him?

Ron felt ashamed of the thought as soon as it entered his brain. Closing his eyes and clenching his fists, Ron took a moment to dispel the negativity from his brain. Even though the locket had been destroyed years ago, Ron swore he could still feel its effects sometimes. Dark magic leaves traces, after all. The thought that Hermione would ever cheat on him with anyone was ludicrous. She loved him, that's one thing he was sure of, and whatever the reason she was acting weirdly, her having a fling with another guy was not one of them.

But Ron was determined to find out what was.

The next morning, at breakfast, Ron encountered yet another display of Hermione's random questioning and subsequent frustration.

He was eating cereal at the table whilst she was reading The Daily Prophet. It was obvious she wasn't really reading though. You could tell when Hermione read a newspaper by the snide comments and remarks that came out of her mouth as she read things that were clearly exaggerated by the press. Ron often asked her why she even read the paper if it only served to annoy her, and her common response was along the lines of 'it's always good to keep up with how the media are representing things, Ron'. Due to the absent of such remarks, Ron deduced that Hermione's mind was elsewhere.

"Hermione?" he began tentatively.

Hermione looked up from the paper she was reading, "Yes?"

"You okay? You look kinda distant."

"Oh, I was just thinking." she stated rather vaguely. Ron was opening his mouth to ask her what she was thinking about when she posed a question, "What do you think we should do with the spare room?" she asked of him emploringly.

Ron stared at her for a second. Where had that come from? Her expression told him she was looking for a certain answer, but Ron had no idea what that answer could be. He wasn't aware that there was a problem with the way they were using it now: as a storage room. "I dunno, can't we just leave it as it is?" he suggested with a shrug.

Her expression immediately told him that he had said the wrong thing. "I'm being serious, Ronald." Ron groaned internally. That was another thing - Ronald. Hermione had began using his full name more frequently in her recent change of behaviour.

He thought harder, there must be some reason, right? Something she wanted that they could turn a spare room into? After a few moments of Hermione's penetrating glare and Ron racking his brain's for all he was worth, he came up with something. He honestly didn't know why he hadn't thought of it sooner.

"A library?" he suggested hopefully.

Hermione let out a frustrated sort of growl and angrily threw her newspaper aside. "Honestly Ron, you're so dense sometimes!" she practically yelled at him, getting up from the table and heading to the sink, where she proceeded to wash the dishes with a violent passion.

Ron was at a loss for words for a minute. What the hell was she on about? He was dense? Well, maybe if she stopped being so bloody vague, they could actually get somewhere. Struggling to maintain a composed attitude, he responded in a calm tone, "Hermione, maybe, just maybe, if I knew what you were actually talking about, I could answer your question."

"I want to know what you think we should do with the spare room, Ron! It's not that hard of a question!" she fumed.

"I've given you an answer!" he shouted, finally losing his temper.

Hermione had apparently reached a level of indignancy that couldn't be expressed through words, as she flung up her arms, exasperated, and proceeded to their bedroom, slamming the door as she went, the dishes left abandoned.

It was an understatement to say that Ron was merely confused. He was completely and utterly flabbergasted. What the bloody hell had that been about? He wasn't completely sure what had just happened, but he was pretty certain it wasn't just about the spare room.

There was obviously something he was missing here. Shite, had he forgotten something? A date? Anniversary? Ron panicked whilst he desperately tried to think of significant dates and came up with a blank. First kiss? Nope, that was May 2nd, The Battle of Hogwarts; there's no way he could ever forget that one. Hermione's birthday? Nope, September 19th, he hasn't forgotten that one since he was 15. Wedding Anniversary? Nope, that's next month. Engagement Anniversary? Ron stopped. Paused. Shite. When was their engagement anniversary? Had he forgotten their engagement anniversary? Wait, so their wedding anniversary is next month. They got engaged six months before that so... nope. January 5th, he remembered the fancy dinner place they'd gone to celebrate for.

He was pretty certain that there was nothing else of significance for him to remember. Maybe he should check a calendar? Ron was just about to act upon this next part of his grand plan, when Hermione came running out of their bedroom in a hurry and ran straight into the bathroom, not being able to shut it behind her since her hands were pre-occupied over her mouth.

Ron rushed into their small bathroom and found Hermione knelt next to the toilet, being violently sick into the basin. Previous argument forgotten, Ron didn't miss a beat in kneeling down next to her and holding her hair out of her face. He chanced a brief glance at her face and took in the red eyes and tear tracks. Maybe Hermione had just been feeling off colour the past few days, and that's why she had been acting so weirdly. Ron felt a new wave of guilt role over him. She'd been ill all this time and he couldn't have made the situation any better by yelling earlier.

His thoughts were interrupted by a dry sob, coming from Hermione. He refocused his attention on her, and, sure enough, she was crying. Ron awkwardly wrapped his arm around her waist, and moved as close to her as his sense of smell would allow.

"It's okay," he muttered, rubbing what he hoped were comforting circles on her back, "I'm sorry for yelling earlier, okay?"

Hermione nodded her head, but movement seemed to disagree with her, for her face paled again, and she ducked back over the toilet bowl. Ron made a face, but stayed at her back nonetheless.

When Hermione resurfaced, he gave her a sheepish sort of smile and proceeded to wipe her mouth with a piece of tissue. Seeing other people throw up had always made Ron nauseous (no doubt it had something to do with the slugs in second year), but he fought it right now, to help Hermione.

"You done?" he asked, wincing slightly at his wordplay.

She nodded, although this time there was no subsequent vomiting.

"Okay then," Ron said as he leant over her to flush the toilet. Hermione sniffed and Ron took her face into his hands, "Are you okay now?" he asked softly, noticing the green tinge to her face.

"I'm good." she replied simply and proceeded to stand up. Ron frowned, and, picking himself up off of the floor, he followed her back into their bedroom, where she was re-applying her make-up, apparently under the notion that she was still going into work today.

"What are you doing?" he questioned incredulously, "you've just been sick Hermione! You can't go to work today, you're ill!"

Hermione shot him a scathing glare before popping a breath mint into her mouth and proceeding to apply her mascara.

"Hermione-" Ron began, but she interrupted.

"I'm not sick; and I am perfectly capable of going into work, thank you very much Ronald."

"No, you're bloody well not!" he protested sternly, "I'm not going to let you go to work when you've just bloody thrown up everywhere!"

"You're not going to let me? I don't need your validation for anything, Ronald Weasley. I feel perfectly fine now, I'll have you know." Hermione turned away from the vanity mirror and moved as if to barge past where he was currently blocking the exit.

Ron raised his eyebrows and she faltered. "Move."

"No, Hermione, you're ill. I'm not going to let my wife go in to work when she's ill. Not when I have a day off and can look after her."

"I'm not sick, Ronald!" Hermione screamed at him then, completely losing her temper. " I don't need anyone to look after me because I'm. Not. Ill!" she punctuated her last three words with a stomp of her foot, which Ron probably would've called out as childish had the circumstances been different.

"Well, what are you then? People who are not ill don't just go throwing up everywhere, Hermione!" he exploded.

"They do if they're pregnant!" Hermione screeched.

Ron stared.

Hermione was pregnant? That explained the odd behaviour. It was as if a million puzzle pieces had clicked together in Ron's brain, before breaking apart and scattering again as he came to a new mystery.

"But... Wha- How?" he sputtered out, almost incoherently.

Hermione was still stood in the middle of the room, shaking, hands back over her mouth and tears back in her eyes. At first, Ron thought she was going to be sick again, before realising she was merely overwhelmed.

"W..When?" Ron tried again, hoping a simpler question would be easier to answer.

Hermione slowly took her shaking hands away from her face, "About a month before you left." she replied quietly, "T...That night..." she trailed off, and turned away from him to wipe her eyes.

That night? Ron knew which night she was referring to, of course, he just didn't see how it was possible that she had become pregnant.

After a brief moment of contemplation, Ron walked up to his wife and wrapped her in a hug from behind, settling his chin atop her head. "6 weeks huh?" he asked in awe. Hermione nodded her head and gave a muffled kind of sob. Ron frowned, why was she still crying? Surely this was a good thing? He spun her around so that they were face to face and cupped her face in his hands once again. "That's great. Really, extremely, amazingly, bloody great. We're gonna be parents, Hermione, how long have we waited for that, eh?" he said, not even attempting to hide the giant grin that was stretched across his face.

Hermione frowned. "You...You're still ready for this?" she asked, almost unbelievably.

Now it was Ron's turn to frown. "Ready for this? Why would I not be ready for this?"

"Because we agreed to stop trying after they told us it wasn't going to happen!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Wait, so are you not ready for this?" Ron asked, panic beginning to creep up his spine.

"No, it's just... I wasn't sure of you were!" she defended.

"Oh," Ron said quietly, "Well, I am. But, now that you mention it, how exactly did this happen?" he asked, gesturing between the two of them emphatically.

"I don't know." said Hermione in a small voice, "I really don't know."

"But the healers... They said, they said we wouldn't be able to conceive because of the spell damage Bellatrix left when she... Tortured you." Ron said slowly, struggling to fit the pieces together.

He vividly remembered that conversation as being one of the worst in his life. Being told that him and Hermione would be denied the joy of children because of what that bitch had done to her years ago. How Hermione had blamed herself in all the time afterwards. They'd both become lost in their work as a distraction, relying on each other for support more than ever. They'd took the blow hard; but the healers at St. Mungo's had encouraged them to keep trying anyway. Him and Hermione had reached a decision that if they weren't able to conceive a child within the next year, they'd start looking into adoption. That resolution ended last year, but they'd both agreed that, with Ron's promotion to second in command and Hermione's transfer to the Department of Magical Law, it would not have been an ideal time for a child. They kept waiting for an opening, a time when everything had calmed down to some extent, but it had never seemed to come.

"I asked the healers when I went to get a second opinion; they couldn't explain it either."

"Wait, you've already been to see the healers about this? How long have you actually know, Hermione?"

"I took a test whilst you were away; I was already late, and I just wanted to rule out all possibilities before I jumped to conclusions. It was positive, but I didn't understand how it could be so I went to St. Mungo's for a professional opinion. They confirmed it." she admitted.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Ron asked, now feeling hurt as the fact that she had hidden something this big from him hit home.

"Because, we both agreed now wasn't the right time for children, and I wasn't sure how you'd react," she tried to explain, sounding more like she was pleading for him to understand, "I didn't know how to tell you! I've been dropping hints at every opportunity; I wanted you to come to the conclusion on your own so that I wouldn't have to explain everything like I am doing now!"

"Woah, Hermione, breathe. Keep talking at that speed and you'll collapse," he tried a weak attempt at humour to lighten her nerves. "We've been denied this for so long, Hermione. So long. I kind of confined myself to the fact that it was never going to happen for us; I internalised that, and that's probably why I didn't connect your barmy behaviour to pregnancy symptoms, alright? Besides, you could've made it a little more obvious, I mean, it is me we're talking about here," he was pleased to see that that one earned him a smile and a role of the eyes. "I couldn't be happier right now, okay? We're going to have a baby. An actual, physical, baby." Ron said, registering how true the words were once he had said them.

"As opposed to an hypothetical baby?" Hermione joked, but he could see the realisation sink in to her as well. "Ron," she whispered, "we're going to have a baby, we're going to be parents!"

Ron couldn't contain the grin this time: he had seen how happy James made Harry and Ginny, and he couldn't wait for him and Hermione to have that same experience. Hermione would make a good mother, Ron reckoned. She'd be kind and caring and fair, slightly strict, but still a fun parent. She'd read to their kid every night before they fell asleep, and they'd both buy little toys and clothes and things for them.

"Ron?" Hermione's voice brought him out of his reverie, her small hand wiping back a stray tear from his cheek.

"We're gonna be parents," he whispered. Hermione nodded excitedly. "I'm gonna be a father..." Ron trailed off as the thought fully struck him, "I'm gonna be a father!" he yelled enthusiastically and dropped to his knees in order to place a kiss on Hermione's abdomen. Hermione entangled her hands in his hair.

"We're gonna be parents." she whispered again.

Ron closed his eyes as he let that glorious truth wash over him. They were going to be parents.