A/N: I don't own Harry Potter.

"Hermione, time to come out. You were supposed to make dinner an hour ago! I'm hungry. Hermione, answer me, please? Hermione? Are you in there? Hermione? Fine, don't talk to me, I'll make my own dinner!"

"Ron? Are you home? No? Where would you...nevermind. I thought you'd change. I'm an idiot aren't I, Crooks?"

"Mrrow?"

"I'm leaving. I'm not letting him do this to me any more. You'll be able to find me, right?"

"Roww."

"Good, you are so smart...I wish I had left four months ago. Okay, out you go, I'll be joining you in a minute.

"Hermione! Good, you finally decided to come out of our room. Seriously, I almost went hungry."

"Ron, you are perfectly capable of making your own dinner. I'm leaving Ron."

"Why? Why would leave now? We're going to be parents, you need to stay here, with me."

"Why? You don't even love me, Ron. All you think about is yourself."

"That's not true. I think about our baby, a lot."

"Really?"

"Yes, every day."

"What about our baby?"

"What he or she will look like, what we're going name the baby, how he or she will look on a broom."

"That's sweet."

"See, I can be sweet. Besides our little Gryffindor will be adorable with my hair and your eyes."

"What if the baby has my hair?"

"There are charms to take care of it, just because you don't bother."

"Don't bother with what? Doing my hair? In case you haven't noticed, I am rapidly loosing sight of my feet, I'm tired all the time and I'm still trying to do all the housework you refuse to do."

"Housework is witch's work."

"You don't even bother putting your dirty socks in the basket."

"I can never tell if it's clean."

"If it's in the basket it's dirty. If it's put away, it's clean. How is that so hard to understand."

"Don't yell at me, Hermione. I'm tired too. I work every day, long hours."

"I know, except, you don't need to stay that late."

"But the overtime is nice."

"I never see a sickle of that money, Ron."

"It goes to the bills."

"I pay the bills."

"I meant my bills. You wouldn't understand."

"What bills could you possibly have? I pay for the groceries with what little money I make."

"Speaking of that, 'Mione, you need to stop working. It's bad for you and the baby."

"How? I'm only on my feet a few hours. Most of what I do is research, writing notes."

"I read something about ink poisoning."

"That's only if you inject it into your skin. Nothing I'm doing is harmful to our child."

"You still need to cut back on working. The nursery isn't going to design itself."

"I asked you a dozen times to help me paint it. The fumes are not good for the baby."

"Harry's coming over Saturday to do it."

"Harry? Never mind, Ron, you can't even paint our baby's nursery! You're lazy, don't help around the house. You're making things really hard for me. Do you even care about me?"

"That's just the hormones talking, 'Mione. C'mon why don't you make some dessert and we'll enjoy it together?"

"No. Ron, no, I'm done. I'm done doing all the house work, I'm done with your late hours. I know you're not at work! I've asked Harry. He's not lying for you anymore apparently."

"What? That git..."

"Harry's a git now? He was your best friend."

"Friends cover for each other. Fine, leave! You're probably lying about the baby anyway."

"What? You did the spell."

"You manipulated it somehow."

"You know what, fine, I'm gone."

"Don't forget your stuff. I'm not keeping it for you."

"Already packed. Good bye and good riddance."