The Grangers Residence: 23 Brick Lane, Chelsea, London.
"Are you coming upstairs, darling?" called Jane Granger to her husband, Alan Granger. She was lying upstairs on bed rest, as she was currently 8 and a half months pregnant.
"Sure, I'll be right up," he shouted up the stairs.
"Alan," she said.
"Yes, Jane?" he replied.
"I'm starving," she explained. "Do you mind bringing me a snack up? I'm really craving pizza."
"Alright, hunny," he said, knowing how strong and strange his wife's pregnancy cravings could get, he was surprised it was just pizza. "Want anything on it?"
"Sure, beans, pickle, turkey and apple would hit the spot," she replied.
Alan sighed, he knew that his pregnant wife couldn't simply have wanted pizza. As he arranged Jane's chosen toppings, he smelt a rather horrible scent coming from them. These things simply weren't meant to be mixed. He filled a glass with orange juice, grabbed the plate with the pizza on and walked up the stairs. He opened the door to his bedroom and handed the plate and glass to Jane and then settled down on the edge of the bed.
"Thanks darling," smiled Jane, before leaning over and kissing him on the cheek.
Alan smiled, and rubbed her belly.
"What do you think, we should call our little angel, then?" Alan asked.
"Well, I've had a few ideas. Lets hear yours first," Jane said.
"Jane. Molly. Jasmine. Lucy," suggested Alan.
Jane smiled. "I like those names, but I can't say the baby does, she kicks at every one of them," she said with a laugh. "Got any others?"
"Just one,"
"Shoot,"
"Hermione," Alan said his last suggestion.
Suddenly, a wave of warmth passed through Jane.
"Wow, I like that one and I think the baby must as well," Jane replied. "So, it's Hermione?"
"It's Hermione," Alan agreed.
"Well, that was a lot easier than I thought," said Jane, before turning to her pizza with a grin.