Hermione flushed the toilet again and stood up to brush her teeth. Her stomach was finally calm but her head was racing around like a rogue bludger. How could she have miscalculated everything tonight? On paper, her plans seemed perfect: tell Mum and Dad about her pregnancy, and demonstrate that her and Ron were happy and excited for the change in their lives.

How could she have mistaken that the one group she depended on to support her, and appreciate the challenges in her life, didn't. Instead, Dad was disappointed and Mum was beastly over the news.

"Could I have miscalculated that poorly?" She stared at herself in the mirror, barely recognizing her features under the harsh lights in their bathroom. "Have I mucked things up that bad, between Mum and Ron?"

She put her hands on her stomach and felt nothing. But then the Healers said it would be another couple of months before she would. Yes, Mum was right on that point- that there were more important things than her personal agenda for changing the world she lived and loved in.

She took a small step into their bedroom and saw the mess she'd made when she got home. Clothes were everywhere, along with Ron's trainers and boots. The wireless was playing in the den and Ron was probably sitting on the couch, drinking his butterbeer and yelling about the bad playcalling, or the officials, or anything else he could be passionate about.

Hermione stood frozen a moment, fighting back tears that made sense yet were badly timed. Why were her hormones acting up when she should have been a mess earlier, but instead was angry?

"So tell me why being married to Ron is more important than my choices on raising this child in our current circumstances?"

"You think marriage is nothing more than a civil contract, do you?"

"It's outdated and I don't agree to it, because the Wizarding world considers women as property, content to be home to birth babies and to keep quiet at the machinations of life in general. I refuse to adhere to it. It's a waste of my talents, frankly."

"I never took you to be a fool, Hermione."

Hermione bristled at her mother's candor. "I'm not a fool, mother. I'm making a stand for what I believe. Ron knows that I support him completely, and he me."

"And Ron? Does he agree with your political posturing? Does he completely agree with how you run roughshod over everyone who stands in your way?"

Hermione turned to Ron and he refused to look at her, concentrating on his rum and raisin bread and butter pudding. He didn't speak up or look at anyone at the table.

"Looks like there might be a difference of opinion from him, at least," Jean retorted bitterly. "Maybe you should consider your partner in your agenda, if you have interest in keeping him as a partner and not a poltroon."

Hermione hissed. "You leave him out of this, Mother."

"I won't. You treat him not as a partner but as an inferior. Look at him, cowering while we row. I thought he was a man made of stern stuff, not this milquetoast I see sitting with us."

"Ron is nothing of the sort," Hermione yelled at her Mum, ignoring the looks from the men behind the bar.

"And yet he's pigeon-hearted by not asking you to marry you again. Or is it you who refuses to consider the ramifications of your choices?"

"Bollocks, Mother."

"Ladies," Robert tried to cut over the other two and failed.

"You leave him out of this, mother. Ron's amazing as a partner."

"I'm pointing out that you already have, Hermione. If he's as much of a paper tiger with you as he seems to me, then your child will run roughshod over him from the start. Is that what you want them to learn, to disrespect their father, since you don't respect him either?" Her voice dropped to a painful whisper. "You told me he was a lion. I see a man who is nothing more than weak-kneed mouse."

"He's not a mouse. He's my best friend."

"You sure don't act like it, Hermione." Jean looked at Ron and Robert. "But maybe he's accustomed to being treated second best. All I see is you treating him like a cuckold without the infidelity."

"That's enough, Mother." Hermione stood up to glare at her parents. "We came here to announce something joyous, and asking for your blessing." She scowled. "I see that you can't accept our arrangements. How dare you treat my best friend and partner with such contempt!"

"Don't you take that tone with me, Hermione. Your narrow-mindedness and frankly selfishness will only hurt you and those you love if you keep this up."

"And what's that, Mother?" She spat out.

"The day that heart started beating inside your womb, everything stopped being about you, your agenda at work, and all the political bullshit you deal with. Everything now comes second place to that precious child in your belly. If you doubt me, ask Molly, since you seem to value her more than me." Jean picked up her purse and made her way towards the door, leaving Robert sitting there.

"Well that as well as I expected." Robert stood up to collect his jacket and pay the bill with the pounds in his wallet. "I'll call in a couple of days, Hermione. Mummy needs time to work through everything." Robert put down a few pound notes to cover dinner. "Tell the nice blokes to keep the change, whatever I'm over on the tab." He hustled out after his wife, leaving the other two behind at the restaurant.

Hermione stood at the table, watching her father walk out after her mother and her partner, and best friend, sat looking at the table, refusing to look at her.

"Well? You too?"

Ron stood up, his ears glowing bright red. "We'll go." He picked up his jacket and waited for her to collect her things. "I'll take you home." He dropped a few more pounds on the table, covering their portion of the bill.

Hermione slid on the warm jumper over her sleep trousers before putting her unkempt hair in a distressed bun. She'd deal with the mess in the morning when she had time and inclination for dealing with it. Tonight, before she did anything else, she'd talk with Ron and see why he was so distressed.

"What did I say that we'd not talked about before? How did I muck things up?"

She wracked her brain again, looking for the answer that eluded her. She collapsed on the edge of the bed and put her head in her hands. "Could it be that Ron actually agrees with Mum? Is marriage that important to him? Have I treated him that poorly?" Each idea rattled her head and heart, none giving a sufficient solution.

She got up from the bed and stepped out of their bedroom and took the three steps into the living area. The wireless was on, playing loud, and Ron was snoring under the noise, an empty butterbeer bottle on the table in front of him. She stood still, watching him sleep peacefully, unlike earlier when he was genuinely upset with her.

Hermione threw a blanket over his long body and went to the fireplace. If anyone would answer her candidly, Ginny would, without reservation. Her candor and raw honesty was never dismissed or not appreciated.

She threw a handful of floo powder into the fireplace and yelled her location. "Ginny! Answer me, please."

Kreacher appeared in front of the fireplace. "Kreacher asks if Mistress Hermione's call is important."

"I apologize how late it is, Kreacher. I'm not interrupting anything important, am I?"

"No Mistress. Madame Ginny is upstairs reading to Master James. Can Kreacher get Master Harry? He has retired for the night but –"

"No, please, don't wake Harry. I'll wait for Ginny then."

"Kreacher, who's calling?" a voice asked with the mirror on Kreacher's pocketwatch.

"It's Mistress Hermione," he spoke into the mirror.

Ginny apparated into the parlor. "Thanks, Kreacher." She kissed him on the head before he toddled off elsewhere. Ginny knelt down in front of the fireplace. "James just fell asleep and Harry's in the bed. What's up?"

"Quick question so you can get to bed."

"Sure. Anything." "Did I screw things up with Ron by not marrying him?"

Ginny's face went stoic immediately. "That's between you and Ron, frankly. I already told you years ago what I thought."

"And I'm asking you again. Did I mess up by not marrying Ron?"

"You want my answer, Hermione?"

"I do."

Ginny took a deep breath. "It's fortunate he's so mad for you. Had you turned me down twice, I'd have been gone a fortnight later. I wouldn't care how barmy I am for you."

"He asked me 30 seconds before going off on a ten month mission. How could I have known?"

"You should have trusted him, at least to come back. Didn't you tell me that many times in our room on those bitter Friday nights our last year? You forgave him, eventually, but the one time he needed you, and that security, you procrastinated. He trusted you and you didn't reciprocate." Ginny looked over her shoulder for a moment before turning her head back into the fire. "I think seven years' worth of waiting is entirely long enough. He needs that security, way more than you do. It's hard for him getting interrogating monthly by Mum and Dad why he hasn't gotten married, to you or someone else. George is one thing. He eventually wised up and married Angelina, but even that took a long talk with Dad for him to figure it out."

Hermione bit her lip. She wanted to tell her best friend she was with child but keeping quiet seemed prudent during a firecall at 11pm. "You think I should make him an honest man, then?"

"Yeah, I do. I think it'll help with Mum and Dad, too. Maybe Mum will quit trying to rope you into another barn-burning wedding if you get married on your own. Besides, if you do, and get the Minister to marry you on a lunchbreak, it'd do wonders for him." Her eyes turned sharp. "What's the sudden change of mind, Hermione?"

"I'll tell you when we see you Sunday. G'night." Hermione pulled her head out of the fireplace and locked it before Ginny could call back. Instead, she turned and saw Ron still fast asleep.

Hermione stretched her back out and went to the kitchen for a glass of water and to make a pot of tea. Listening to Ron's snores from the next room told her he'd be out most of the night if she left him there. It wasn't a bad idea to let him sleep on the couch, not after the row they had on the way home from the restaurant.

"Why didn't you say anything when Mum asked?"

Ron kept walking towards their apparition point two blocks away.

"Ron, I asked you a question. Please answer me."

He stopped but refused to turn around. "You know why," he said under his breath while cars passed by.

"No, I don't. I won't read your mind because it's rude and wrong to do so. So tell me." She stepped in front of him. His face will filled with stormclouds she knew would break shortly.

Ron held his tongue for a moment. "I think your Mum's right. It's that simple. I know you think getting married is rubbish and it's a waste but I don't. See, I want to marry you, but you don't want to marry me. That's why I won't ask again."

"That's not true, Ron. I think it's begging others for approval of our union and that's not necessary. I'm yours until you're sick – "

"Not necessary," he growled. "Not necessary? Merlin, you really think this is all about your bloody politics at work? Do you think of anyone else but yourself?" He took off walking again and she struggled to catch up with his very long strides.

"Ron, stop!"

"No." He kept walking and she could almost swear he sped up to get away from her. She ran hard to get in front of him and only when he turned the corner to slide into the apparition area – between two derelict buildings – that she cornered him.

"What is wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with me? Merlin, Hermione! How about the fact that your Mum thinks I'm a doormat for you. How about the fact that all of our friends see you taking charge with no consideration for what I think or feel about our arrangements. Finally, you disrespected me back there when you felt entitled to my support when you barely acknowledge all that I do for you."

She staggered back into the wall behind her. "You think I don't respect you?"

"Sure seems like it, considering everything that's happened has been a unilateral decision on your part, with no input from me. I feel like I'm nothing more than galleons in our vault and someone to keep house with. It's certainly not someone to keep you warm at night in our bed."

"You work nights, Ron."

"Exactly my point." He stood there and wouldn't look at her at all, focusing on a spot on the brick behind her head.

"So you think I'm doing all of this unilaterally, without asking you anything regarding our situation, child, welfare, or well-being?"

"I've been home for two months now and you've asked me once about something you couldn't decide upon. If we go out to dinner, you choose where we go."

"You never complain about where we go."

"But it'd be bloody nice if you asked me too, I reckon."

She leaned back and crossed her arms. "Is there anything else," she hissed at him, "that I should know about, that I need to take into consideration?"

He snorted. "Well, if you're going to be beastly about it, it's obvious I'm yelling at the brick wall, as much as you're going to listen to what I have to say."

"Oh I'm listening. Fire away since I don't bother otherwise." She crossed her arms and waited for his input.

"First off, it'd be nice, quite nice really, if I got to pick where we go for dinner, or even get takeaway. I'm tired of eating at the same three bloody places."

"Go on," she growled.

"Second, I'm not proposing again for any reason but damn it, it'd be nice if you had something else to call me besides your partner. Merlin, it sounds like we're working on a bloody potions assignment. I'm more than your partner, Hermione. Even if you say I'm your child's father, or best friend – something more important than partner. A partner is who I have working with me in the Aurors, not the person who is the most important person in my bloody life."

"We've been together forever, Ron. And you are my partner, best friend, and lover. Do you honestly want me to introduce you to others as such?"

"That's not the point, Hermione. I'm sick of everyone thinking I'm a bloody afterthought, including your parents. Your Mum doesn't respect me and I'll be arsed if there's anything else I can do to earn it from her? You'd think after all these years of treating you better than I treat myself, she'd get the idea that I'm not going anywhere unless you're going to chuck me out the window of our flat." He stopped and looked at her shrewdly. "You're not planning on doing that now, are you, since I got you pregnant? I'm more important to you than just galleons, right?"

Hermione took the kettle of tea off the burner and took it along with some toast into the den. Ron was still fast asleep and would be for another few hours, she reckoned.

Accio Deluminator, she cast at Ron's slumbering form and caught his precious gift in her hand. Three clicks and the living area was bathed in darkness, only illuminated by the residual lights from the street below.

"You're worth more than all the galleons in Gringott's. I wish you understood that," she said to herself in the darkness.

She took a sip of tea and promptly got lost in the thoughts bouncing in her head.