"What is it like?" she asked quietly into his chest.
"What do you mean?" he pulled her small body into his lap.
She'd just awoken, shaking and sobbing. It had been four years since the war ended.
But memories stayed.
"When I have nightmares," she said louder. "A-about that.
"Well — erm — you whimper and whine a bit," he said drawing shapes on her back. "Then you move around. After that, you whine louder. I try to calm you down and hold you then. Then you start crying, in your sleep. And then you wake up, and well — you know that rest."
"Oh, I'm sorry for waking you up," she bit her lip. "Isn't that the sixth time this month?"
Ron, whose eyes had wandered across the room, looked at her, his mouth gaping.
"You're seeing a healer tomorrow," he looked in her eyes.
"Ron? What — no! I don't need a healer." she argued.
"Hermione, that's not normal!" he shot back. "It's only the eighteenth! Soon it could be every night!"
"And?"
"That isn't normal!" Ron breathed out. "This stuff could hurt you! Hell, my uncle had nightmares every night and now he's at St. Mungo's being waited on hand and foot!"
"Ron, I'll be fine," she rolled her eyes.
"We're planning on having kids! You can't be up every night, then in the morning having to deal with a newborn baby crying!"
Hermione bit her lip. She felt guilty.
"Ron," she said quietly.
She reached his hands and held both if them. His eyes followed her hands. He then looked up with her with a perplexed expression.
"We're having a baby," she tried to stay calm, but a smile was across her face before she was halfway done with the sentence.
A wide grin spread over her face and he gripped her waist.
"When did you find out?" he asked excitedly. He was basically jumping.
"A few days ago," she laughed at his excitement. "Sorry I didn't tell you sooner, I couldn't figure out how to tell you."
"It's fine," he was still smiling wide. "I'm gonna have a son!"
"Yeah — wait, did you say son?" she asked. Ron nodded his head. "We're not even a week into this. How are you already assuming the gender?"
"'Mione, love, I came from a family of six boys straight. Our chances for a daughter is nothing compared to our chances for a son."
"Yeah... I'll give you two galleons if it's a boy,"
"And hand out two if it's a girl,"
And they made a bet on their unborn child.