A/N: Written for the following prompt: Hermione is trying to break the news that she's pregnant but Ron takes it the wrong way and assumes she's leaving him.


"There you are," Hermione smiled when Ron stepped out of the fireplace at a little before 8am on a brisk Saturday morning. "I was waiting for you to get home. I've made some breakfast if you're hungry."

"I need a bloody shower after last night," he grumped before toeing off his boots and throwing his jacket into the closet. "I'm blistered and stink like dragon dung. We had a bloody call-out at 10pm last night. Some barmy witch was in a strop and trying to Obliviate her husband. It scared the neighbors with all the loud bangs in their flat. When he Disapparated, she was using her wand to hurt herself. We stopped her before she did too much damage but the Healers at St. Mungo's said she'll be in there a spell trying to reverse the self-inflicted Obvliate. Then Jones called a training session at 1am and it included flying brooms in the grotty shite out on the moors of the Cornish coast. She said it was to help cope with that cocked-up call-out but I know she was just itching to fly around Cornwall most of the night."

"I'll have it under a warming charm once you get done."

Ron stomped off to their bathroom. Hermione sat fidgeting with her fingers while he sounded like a hippogriff in their bedroom, cursing while stripping out of his trousers and his pants before his shower.

Hermione picked up the napkin from the table and dabbed her eyes. At least now she knew why she'd been a spot of bother the last fortnight with her emotions being uncontrollable. At least she had the answer to why she was nauseous all the time, couldn't stomach anything that Molly made at Sunday brunch, and why she only craved tea and plaintains and none of the other healthy fare she preferred. Even the tried and true pumpkin pasties turned her stomach.

It couldn't be her unrelenting schedule the last two months at work, going in at 7am and coming home round 11pm. If she did run into Ron in the morning before work, it was a furious snog and she was off to work. No, stress hadn't been the reason she was moody and prone to exploding at co-workers, including Ms. Blunt, who was at least reasonably understanding.

"Ron?"

He trudged into their very spare kitchenette and plopped down to the plate in front of him, along with a cup of tea. "Thanks," he growled before tucking into his dinner of fried eggs, rashers, beans and tomatoes, and 2 slices of toast.

"How was work?"

"Shit." He ate another few bites.

"Ron, can we talk?"

"No. I'm knackered, desperately needing sleep, and sod all if I have to go into work at 2 for George."

"I know you are but I need to talk to you and -"

"Can't it bloody well wait 'til I've slept and had lunch? Shit, it's all I can do to stay awake right now to eat." He finished his meal and put the plate and fork in the sink. "We'll talk after I get home from work tonight."

"No, that's not good enough."

"Now?" He froze three steps into the hallway.

"Yes, now, before you take a kip."

"Probably won't be able to now, considering," he said under his breath.

"What was that? I couldn't hear you."

Ron turned and faced Hermione, looking incredibly sad. "I was wondering when you'd decided."

She stood before him boggled. "Decided? Decided what?"

"When you were gonna chuck me over the side. I've known it was coming for some time." He fell back slightly into the wall behind him. "Bloke works his ass off trying to make ends meet and it's not enough. I should have known. I let duty get in the way of taking care of you."

"Chuck you? Ron, what are you on about?"

"Gossip 'round the ministry is that there's this bloke in MLS who's been hitting on you constantly and since I'm working too much and off on missions all the bloody time and you not wanting to get married and I reckon it's time you get a better sort of bloke in your life. I've worked constantly and saved so many galleons, taking so many sodding assignments, trying to be worthy of you and there's this tosser who waltzes in and is there for you since I can't seem to find a moment to spend any time with you."

"Ron, it's not like that at all."

"Rubbish, Hermione. I'm not a completely dumb sod. I know you're not happy and haven't been for a very long time." He deflated, refusing to look at her at all. "I was gone all those months and when I got back, there was time for a shower and a change of pants and then I was stuck at the Ministry for a bloody fortnight, it seems. When they finished with me, leaving me with no arse left, you're busy as fuck on your job and a bloke can't even get a moment for a dinner date because your bleeding secretary says that she can't make room in your calendar for me." Hermione tried to interject but he pulled a face and cut across her. "I hoped you'd change your mind about me but I guess it's not the case." He turned around and saw her standing slack-jawed. "When do I need to move out, or are you moving out?"

"Ron! Stop it, now." She hit him once on the arm and stomped past him into their bedroom and when he wouldn't join him, she reached out to pull him in there with her. He stayed by the door while she took a seat on the edge of the bed.

"I'm not chucking you, dear. That's far from it. Merlin, I'm proud of you for everything you do and what you've done for me. Chucking you is the last thing on my mind."

"And the bloke at the Ministry? Isn't he one of those hotshot solicitors who make more galleons than he knows what to do with?"

"Ron," Hermione sat down on the edge of the bed while trying to stifle another round of tears, "He's the other Wizengamot solicitor I'm working with on the Elf rights legislation. He does make plenty of galleons but he'd hit on you before he'd ever hit on me. Yes, he dresses nice but that doesn't mean he's hitting on me. We work in the same office sometimes which is how the gossip started. But he has no interest in me and I none for him." She smiled and he relaxed a touch. "You're it for me, and I'm not interested in anyone else." She tried to smile and Ron flinched. "No one else compares to you, not in the least."

"So what do you need to talk about then if you're not chucking me?" He relaxed some in the doorway.

"Well, I want to show you rather than tell you."

"Hermione, I've not slept in 48 hours. I'm completely knackered and right now, all I want to do is sleep. I've been working eighteen hours a day the last month, between George and the Ministry. It's my first bloody day off from both of them and you're busting my bits. If you're going to talk, can it wait until I've slept? Merlin knows I barely know which way is up."

"It'll take a second, dear." She pulled her wand from the waistband of her flannel sleep trousers and pointed the wand at herself.

"Hermione!" Ron rushed across the room and tackled her onto the bed. They bounced once before falling off the bed and landing in a pile on the ground. Ron rolled and pinned her wrists to the ground. "What the bloody fuck are you doing? You'll hurt yourself."

"Ron, you idiot!" She couldn't move until she released her wand. "Why did you tackle me?"

"You were going to hurt yourself, Hermione!" He kept hold of her until kneed him in the thigh. He groaned and he released her wrists and she rolled over him

"Christ, Ron." She worked her way out from under his lean frame and refused to wipe the tears from her face. "Why you do that to me? Why would you think I was going to hurt myself?"

"You turned your wand on yourself. You're going – Shit." He turned bright red and looked away from Hermione. "Shit. You weren't going to do that. You're not that barmy witch from earlier. She pointed the wand at herself and did unspeakable things. Fuck, I am so sorry."

"Are you mental?" She cut off her train of thought and fought down the nausea. "Why would I hurt myself? And you tackling me could make me lose our baby!" She screamed at him before walking towards the doorway.

Ron looked up over the edge of the bed at his very irritated girlfriend and saw the fury on her face. "Do what?"

"Hurt me and the baby! That's what I wanted to tell you this morning, Ron. I'm pregnant."

He sat up looking like he'd been confunded before turning bright red. "Rubbish."

He shrunk back when her hair bristled and her face got that look. "You think this is a joke, that I'm taking the piss out of you? I'm not George!"

Ron shrunk down some, sitting back on his heels. "Pregnant? When the hell did that happen?"

Hermione crossed her arms in front of her and threw her hip out to the side in a fantastic imitation of Jean Granger. "Probably when you came home from the last mission and needed affirmation you were still alive. I hadn't seen you in ten months and the first thing you want to do as soon as you walked in the door was a leg over. I admit it was memorable and Merlin, I don't think I walked right for two days. But then I didn't see you for almost a week after that, between my atrocious schedule on the centaur legislation, your debriefings with the Aurors and working some with George. And then my schedule after the Centaur Legislation went through and things got worse, with the elf rights legislation coming up before the Wizengamot this past week and having to argue before a full bank of the Wizengamot. It's a wonder we even had a time for this to happen."

"You're pregnant!" He sat back on the floor and put his head in his hands. "You're really pregnant."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Yes, I'm about eight weeks. I've needed to tell you for a day or two but you've been working more than I have in the last two weeks that I barely see you and there's not been a good time to tell you and – "

Ron stood up from the floor and went to his girlfriend. He picked her up in his arms and laid her back onto the rumpled bedclothes, pressing frantic kisses into her face and cheeks. "You're pregnant, with my child, and he's going to be brilliant like you." Her vest turned wet almost immediately.

She heard his soft sobs and cradled his head on her chest. "And she's going to be brilliant with you as her father." Ron slid down her body but Hermione pulled him off her stomach but kissed him deeply, trying to convey all of the fear, the promises, and joy she felt with Ron in her life. He kissed her until nearly passing out, rolling onto his side and catching his breath. "Have you told Harry yet? Our parents?"

"I haven't told anyone. I needed to tell you first. I don't think anyone suspects, not even your Mum since we've not gone over there in a couple of weeks now, between your work schedule and mine. But I bet she'll figure it out sooner or later."

Ron put his face in his hands and she saw his shoulders shaking a touch. She knew he'd wanted kids and it seemed now was as good of a time as any.

"I'm going to be a daddy. Brilliant." He pulled Hermione onto his chest and pressed kisses on her face before pulling her further up his body. He lifted her vest up and placed butterfly kisses on her lower belly, feeling her giggle slightly under his lips.

"Hello dear. I'm your Daddy."

"Yes you are," Hermione whispered high above his smiling face. "There'd be no one else."