That day, and each that followed, I spent nearly every minute thinking about my pregnancy and, more importantly, how to tell Fred. Everyday I told myself that I would tell him, but I just didn't know how. The moment never felt right. I was still trying to grasp the idea myself.

It was Sunday already, four days since Harry and Ginny's anniversary. We had Sunday lunch at the Burrow as we always did. Everyone was there as usual, with one exception. Fleur had gone into labor and was at home with Bill and their midwife. Victoire still attended dinner for Molly was watching her until Fleur was on her feet again.

Evening had arrived and I sat alone in my room at Grimmauld Place. I was supposed to be preparing for a date with Fred tonight, but I was just sitting on the edge of my bed in my bra and knickers again. I was mentally preparing for the evening. I had asked for this date night so that I could tell him. I was going to tell him... but how? I was terribly nervous. I didn't want to go through this alone. But what if he didn't want this? What if he wasn't ready? I'd already decided that though. I was a strong individual. This baby was my responsibility. If he didn't want it, then I could raise it myself. I wasn't helpless and I refused to be weak. But no matter how many times I repeated this and puffed up my chest, I knew that I would break if he couldn't accept this. I would survive. I would make it through, but it would be a terrible ending to our relationship, and my relationship to the Weasleys.

A "pop" announced Fred's arrival.

"You're... uh... not ready..." he observed.

I chuckled. "What makes you say that?"

"Well, though I think you look lovely as you are, I don't think you meet the muggle dress code for the restaurant," he smiled and puffed out his chest to display his own ensemble. He wore dark tan trousers, a collared shirt, and a bright blue, abstract necktie. He looked very handsome. "But then, you are the muggle expert, not I. Let's go." He held out his arm to escort me.

"I'm sorry." I returned his smile. "It will only take me a minute to get dressed. And there's not a dress code. It's not formal."

"I wanted to look nice," he said, putting his freckled nose in the air.

I was glad I hadn't dressed yet. I hadn't intended on dressing up, but now I would certainly choose something nice. He was taking this date more seriously than I thought.

Ten minutes later, Fred held out his arm to me again and we Apparated to an alley in Muggle London. After a few minutes of walking, we arrived at the Italian bistro.

Dinner was nice. It was great to get away, just the two of us. No George, Angelina, Harry, Ron, or Ginny. We talked about many things, but the entire time I kept thinking about how and when to tell him that I was pregnant.

"Oh, and the baby!" he said.

"What?" I was taken aback. "What baby?"

"Fleur's. I meant to tell you when I got to Grimmauld Place. She had the baby at four in the afternoon. A little girl. They named her Dominique."

"Oh, that's great," I said. 'Now... tell him now...' I thought.

"Yep. Both mum and baby are healthy," he reported.

"Fred..." I started. "I've been meaning..."

"Your bill, sir," said the server, handing Fred the dinner bill. "If you need anything else, just ask."

"Thanks," said Fred. "Now what were you saying?"

"Oh... it's nothing really. We can talk about it later," I said. 'Backbone, Hermione. You have one. Where is it?'

Though Fred protested, I paid the bill and we returned to Wheezes' Flat. I spread my arms and flopped back onto the bed. Fred laughed at me.

"Tired already?" he asked.

I had been a lot more tired recently and I knew now that it was because of the pregnancy.

Fred walked over to me and helped me to sit up on the edge of the bed. "I love you, you know that?"

He was always able to say just what I needed to hear. I smiled bashfully and nodded.

"I mean, I'm absolutely in love with you, Hermione Granger. I've never been so happy. I never want to live another day without you..."

'Tell him,' I thought again. 'Now. Tell him.'

"I guess what I want to say is..." he continued. He bent down on one knee and stuck his hand into the pocket of his trousers.

My breath caught. My heart raced. He was going to ask me.

"Wait!" I said. "Not yet."

I couldn't let him ask me yet. He had to know first. I didn't want him to consider such a commitment without him knowing the commitment I already had.

I realized that he was staring at me, waiting for me to continue. He wasn't breathing.

"I'm not saying 'no'," I added quickly. "I'm... I'm just saying 'wait'."

He had a very blank look on his face. This certainly wasn't something he could have anticipated.

I reached out and touched his cheek. "I love you. I love you more than I could ever express. I'm not saying no. Just... not yet. Wait just a little..."

He was finally breathing again, though he looked a little shaky. How could I have just done that to him? He put himself out there like that and I told him to wait? But what else could I have done?

A mirthless smile crossed his lips. His eyes sparkled with understanding, but a hint of disappointment also lingered in them. "It's okay, Hermione," he assured. "I'll wait for you forever, if I have to."

"I'm sorry, Fred," I felt close to tears. If I had just had the courage to tell him earlier...

"No, Hermione. Don't be sorry." His thumb brushed my cheek. "It's okay if you're not ready. We're still rather new. I'll wait..."

I pressed my lips against his. His fingers wove into my hair, pulling me closer and deepening our kiss.

"I love you," I repeated. I didn't deserve him...

"I love you, too," He smiled and kissed my forehead before getting to his feet. "Now let's get some sleep."

'Tomorrow,' I told myself. 'After work, tomorrow. No excuses. Tomorrow I will tell him.'

Just to let you all know, I'm just as mad at Hermione as you are! Sometimes these things just write themselves. More often than not, I'm just as surprised at what happens as my readers.