Merry belated Christmas. For Liv!

Disclaimer: I'm not JK.

Hermione Granger sat down on her new desk chair at her new desk, rubbing her hands over the smooth wooden surface. It smelt fresh and clean, two things that Hermione liked very much. Looking up from her inspection on her new desk she locked eyes with Ron.

"I love it Ron, where did you find it?" Hermione asked, her eyes shining with happiness.

"I'm not telling 'Mione, it's a secret," Ron replied with his lopsided grin firmly in place.

"Well, it's wonderful but I can't accept it," Hermione replied, standing up and walking to stand in front of the desk.

"What? Why not?"

"It would have cost a fortune, Ron. I can't accept that."

"It doesn't matter how much it cost, I want you to have it. Do you not like it?"

"I love it."

"Then what's the problem?"

"I just feel bad because all I got you were some quidditch tickets and a book to help you out with some more gags for the shop. It just doesn't seem fair that you get me this desk and chair."

"Hermione, I love what you got me and it doesn't matter how much I spent. You deserve it."

"But-"

"I'm not taking it back Hermione," Ron stated in a very final tone.

Ron then left Hermione's study and made his way to the kitchen. It was Christmas Eve and as the couple was spending half of Christmas with Hermione's family and the other half of Christmas with the Weasleys they decided that they would open their presents a day early so that it could be done in private.

Ron was very upset that Hermione didn't want his present; he had worked very hard to find the perfect desk and chair. He had even gone to a bloody muggle shop just to find it. It was an antique, which he was sure would be something she would like but if she couldn't accept it because she thought he'd overspent a little than she definitely wouldn't accept it when she found out he'd overspent a lot.

Ron didn't mind forking out the money; Hermione deserved only the best after all. He wanted to show her that he could provide for her. He wanted to step up and by not accepting this gift he felt like she wasn't willing to let him provide for her.

Ron started to search through the cupboards in search of something he could make for dinner as it was his night. He found a can of tinned tomatoes and some pasta so decided to make Spaghetti Bolognese and garlic bread.

He had almost finished making dinner by the time Hermione came to find him in the kitchen. She didn't appear angry so he flashed her a smile and said dinner would be ready soon. She smiled back and then left the kitchen. Ron finished dinner and dished it up.

Walking to the lounge Ron was almost bowled over by a running Hermione. Luckily, Hermione dodged him and kept running. Not sure what was going on Ron set the dinner down on the table and went to find Hermione. He quickly made his way through their small flat.

He finally found her in the bathroom, brushing her teeth. Ron was confused to say the least.

"What are you doing?" He asked in confusion.

Hermione spat in the sink and then washed her mouth out. When she turned around Ron saw how pale she looked.

"I was brushing my teeth," she replied simply.

"Why?"

"I was sick."

"What? Why? Are you okay?"

"I was sick. I'm not entirely sure right now. I'm fine, just feeling a little woozy."

"What do you mean you're not entirely sure right now?"

"It means that I have an idea but I'm not sure, I'm looking into it."

"Look into what Hermione?"

He looked around the bathroom; noting a small white stick on the counter that he'd never seen before. Then he looked back at Hermione and he saw it, the small look in her eyes that meant fear. He hadn't seen that look for years. Not since the last Death Eater had been captured. Now, he was very interested.

"Hermione, whatever it is, you can tell me. You know that, right?"

"Of course I do, Ron," she replied, stroking his cheek with her hand.

"Then tell me, wouldn't you rather have someone to talk it over with?"

"I'm not sure. I mean it's one thing if I'm wrong and I know, it's another thing entirely if I'm wrong and you know too."

"Hermione, I'll still love you no matter what."

"I know that."

"Then what's the problem? We're married; we aren't suppose to have secrets. If you can't-"

"I think I might be pregnant, Ron," she said quietly, effectively cutting him off.

"Pregnant?"

"Yes."

"Why would it be bad for me to know?" He asked, his ears starting to turn red with anger.

"Because, I know how much you want children Ron. I could handle me being wrong, but could you?"

"Of course I could, we can always start trying if it turns out that you aren't."

"That's the problem. If I'm not, I don't want to start trying."

"You don't want a baby?" He asked in a hurt tone.

"That's not what I'm saying. If I'm pregnant I really want to keep it but if I'm not then I don't want to start trying."

"You're not making sense."

"Ron," she started in a soft tone. "Did you ever wonder why my parents were older when they had me?"

"Not really, I just assumed they were focused on their jobs."

"Well, that's true but it was also because they couldn't get pregnant easily. So they tried and they tried but they just couldn't. And eventually, when they stopped trying, they had me."

"I don't get what you're trying to say love."

"Well, from what my Grandparents and my Aunt have told me, all the years of trying for a baby really hurt their marriage. They were always fighting and never happy," Hermione answered, looking at her feet.

"I'm still not following," Ron replied, tilting her chin up to lock eyes with her.

"I don't want us to turn into that. I just want things to happen if and when they do."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay. I just want to make you happy," he replied with a smile.

"I want to make you happy too, Ron," she replied, smiling back. "I'll stop taking anything to stop us having a baby, I just don't want you to tell everyone or-or put pressure on us."

"I won't, I promise."

Hermione smiled at him and turned to grab the small white stick that Ron had seen on the counter.

"What's that?"

"This," Hermione started, holding the stick up. "Is what muggles use to tell if they are pregnant. It's not full-proof but if this says yes then we'll go to Saint Mungo's day after next and check. Okay?"

Ron nodded and motioned to the stick. Hermione smiled at him again and looked down at it.

"Well?"

Hermione looked back up at him, her face frozen. Not happy and yet not sad.

"Hermione, it's okay, no matter what it says-"

"It says I'm pregnant."

"What?"

"It says I'm pregnant."

It only took a split second for it to register with Ron what his wife had said before he launched himself at her. He picked her up off her feet and showered kisses all over her face. Hermione giggled and put her arms around Ron's shoulders.

"Ron."

"Mmm?" He mumbled into her neck.

"It's not full proof."

"How big is the chance that it is wrong?"

"One percent."

"And how many signs have you noticed?"

"A few."

"Which really means many signs. So, I'm going to say that that means there is only a point five chance that you aren't pregnant."

"Ron, just-"

"No matter what the answer is, I'll still love you."

"Good."

"Anything you feel like saying now?"

"I love you Ron."

"I love you too Hermione."