"Guess what."

Hermione was pleasantly surprised by the light, cheery tone in the familiar voice. She looked up. "What?" she obliged with a smile.

"You'll never guess." Mallory giggled.

"Why don't you tell me then?" Hermione suggested.

"He's gone."

"Who is?" she asked, though her pulling smile gave away the inkling she had.

"Damien!" Mallory exclaimed. "He's gone! They wouldn't rematch him because of his," her voice lowered, "condition. He was flagged."

Hermione's eyebrows rose and then she let out a laugh. "Where'd he go?" she asked.

"My source says Germany."

"Source?" Hermione prompted.

"My brother-in-law has been keeping tabs," she explained. "Isn't it wonderful?"

"Incredible," Hermione agreed, closing the folder on her desk and smiling widely.

"I slept well last night," Mallory said in a content sigh.

"So, does this mean you aren't leaving yourself?" Hermione questioned.

Mallory shook her head. "I've already turned in my letter of resignation."

Hermione knew this. She'd proofread it for her before she gave it to their boss a few days prior. "Louis won't care. He'll take you back in a pinch."

"I think I still want my fresh start," Mallory said decidedly. "It'll be good for me."

Hermione nodded in understanding. "When do you leave?" she asked.

"Thursday is my last day," Mallory said.

"I'll miss you."

"I'll visit."

Hermione stood and hugged the girl she'd grown so close to. She really would miss Mallory. Even if she hadn't been through all that she had in the last while, and Hermione hadn't helped her in the way she had. Mallory had been a good friend to her from the moment she started working in the department. As quiet as she had been, Hermione had known she could trust her from the beginning, which wasn't something that happened often. Mallory was lovely, inside and out, and Hermione knew she would miss her. She wasn't the type of person you met every day. "I'll hold you to that."

The restaurant was busy. Loud, crowded, and noisy, though it was a muffled sort of noise from where they were, behind a heavy drawn curtain. It was quite nice going out with Harry and Ron. The three of them put together were unmistakable.

Hermione was rarely recognized in public. She remained out of the spotlight, as she liked it, and was only recognized from the occasional adult who really scrutinized the tiny photos of her that made the papers. Harry was recognized wherever he went though. Thus, he didn't go out much if he could help it and if he had to, he wasn't above a colour changing charm and tinting his spectacles. Ron took well to the attention. He smiled for the photos and signed every requested autograph. The one exception was if he was in the middle of a meal.

This was why they were sat in the very back, private room of the restaurant, separated from other diners by a black curtain, the three of them sitting at one end of a table that was long enough for at least a dozen people.

"So, how has your morning been, Hermione?"

She smiled. "It's been good," she said. "Actually, I went to see Vivian this morning—"

"Vivian?" Ron cut in.

"Healer," Harry replied with her. "What'd she say? All is well?"

"Fantastic," Hermione drawled. "I've replenished my potions and should soon start gaining nearly a pound a week." She sighed. "Anyway, the exciting news is that I'm far enough along that she can tell us the gender now."

The two of them lit up, Ron pausing with his fork halfway to his mouth and Harry returning his water glass to the table. "Well, what is it?" they asked.

Hermione sucked in a deep breath. "I don't know," she said. "I told her I had to think about it."

"Oh, not you, too!" Harry exclaimed, slamming his fork down. "Why? Why does it have to be a bloody surprise? Don't you want to know whether—?"

Hermione laughed. "Harry, I want to know," she interrupted. "Fred seemed a little hesitant though. I thought we'd talk about it a little more before flooing for the results."

"Oh," he said.

Ron shrugged. "What's it matter? You don't care either way, do you?"

"Of course not!" Hermione exclaimed. "Boy or girl, I already love them. I just want to be well-prepared, you know?"

"Exactly!" Harry said. He tugged at his hair. "Gin says she wants to be surprised. Says it'll be nice right after she finishes giving birth to hear them announce it."

Hermione shrugged. "Fred likes surprises," she said. "But he says it's my choice, he doesn't mind either way. I just think it'll be nice to know. They say you can form a stronger bond. Plus, we've just started discussing names, and if we can settle on one, I'd like to finally be able to call this baby a proper name. Or at least a singular pronoun."

Harry laughed. "Yeah, I'm tired of buying yellow," he said. "The whole nursery is yellow. Everything. It very well might be the ugliest room a child could be forced to grow up in."

Ron snorted. "Weren't you living under a staircase?"

"Enough about babies," Hermione said. "What else is going on?"

They shrugged. "Work," Ron said. "And work is slow. It seems crime has finally been stopped."

"I doubt that," Hermione said. She speared a piece of chicken and ate contentedly.

"Really," Ron insisted. "There's hardly been anything to do in the office for the last week. Just paperwork and the regular stuff."

She hummed. "Well, I suppose that's a good thing. What about outside of work then? How's that?"

"Good," Ron said. "Christine took me to the cinema on Saturday. That was fascinating."

"How's she doing?"

"She's alright," Ron replied. Harry snickered and Ron reddened.

"What?" Hermione asked.

"Nothing," Ron said quickly.

"What does Harry know that I don't?" Hermione demanded, looking between the two with narrowed eyes.

"Nothing important," Harry assured. "He just shared some stories of more interesting moments between him and Christine."

"Interesting how?" Hermione enquired, grinning impishly.

"She's quite flexible," Ron muttered.

Harry and Hermione couldn't help their laughter. "That's...that's really wonderful Ron," she said sincerely. She fought more giggling.

"I've fallen in love with her."

That sobered them up. They stared at their ginger friend disbelievingly. "You love her?" Hermione asked.

Ron shrugged but his slight nod and further reddening gave him away. "Yeah," he said. "I don't know what it is about her."

Harry grinned. "That's great Ron. "

"Does…does she feel the same?" Hermione asked carefully.

"She said it first."

"Well, that's lovely!" Hermione exclaimed.

"I didn't even see it coming," Ron said. "I thought she still hated me."

Hermione shook her head. "I don't think she ever hated you, Ron," she said. "I think she hated your marriage."

Ron nodded thoughtfully. "Well, either way," he said, "she loves me now, and things are brilliant."

"Good," Harry said. "It's about time we're all happy. I'd say we sure as hell deserve it."

Their glasses clinked together, prompted by Ron raising his with a nod. "Cheers to that."

Hermione came home to find that Fred had already made dinner, set the table and was lying on the couch with his eyes shut, resting as he waited for her to return. At the sound of the door shutting behind her he sat up and hopped over the back of the couch. He strode over and kissed her hello before taking a seat at the table. Clearly he was hungry. She apologized for keeping him waiting and he waved it away with another kiss to her cheek.

She sat across from him and began serving herself vegetables. "I want to know the sex of the baby," she announced with a hesitant smile.

"You do?" Fred asked. He buttered her dinner roll and placed it back on her plate before starting on his own.

Hermione nodded. "I know you said you'd like it to be a surprise, but I think I'll feel a lot less anxious about all of the preparations if I knew beforehand. I talked to Harry about it, and he said it would be a good idea."

"Aren't Harry and Ginny waiting until the birth?" Fred asked.

"Well…yes," Hermione agreed. "But, not by Harry's choice. He was just trying to appease his wife." She shrugged, taking a sip of her water. "So…is that okay? Can we ask Vivian?" she said hopefully.

"Sure," he replied. "Hermione, I told you it was your choice." He cut into his chicken, unbothered.

"I know," she said, "but I don't want you agreeing to things simply to mollify me. Not that I think Harry and Ginny are doing anything wrong," she hurried to add. "Just that I know I'm not always the easiest person to deal with right now. I want to make sure that we're actually making these decisions together. I want you to be involved in more than just keeping me happy." She grinned at him and he laughed.

"I'm really okay with this," he said. "It'll be just as much a surprise now as it will be then. And if it will put you at ease, then I'll write to St. Mungo's tonight. Hopefully Vivian will get us a reply by morning."

"Great!" she exclaimed. "Oh, I'm so excited."

He laughed. "Me, too," he agreed.

"Do you have a preference? Either way?" she asked.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair and shaking his head. "Hermione, I told you, boy or girl, I'll be ecstatic."

"I know, but really—"

"Do you have a preference?" he asked curiously.

She shook her head quickly. "Not at all."

"Good," he said. "Then we're in agreement."

She sighed. "You know how they say women have…intuition, right?" she asked. "Sometimes they just know."

He nodded. Pausing mid-bite. "Why? You think you know who's growing in there?" His eyes flicked down to her bump.

She confirmed this. "And…I don't know, I'm just wondering if what I think is…"

His head tilted to the right in confusion. "Wait. You think you know what the baby is and you're afraid it's not what I want?" he asked.

She shrugged.

"Hermione, I want a baby," Fred told her. "Any baby." He paused. "Well, okay, our baby, preferably. But that's it. That's the only stipulation. A baby. So unless you're growing a hippogriff in there, we're good." He grinned at her.

She laughed. "Alright."

"So, what do you think it is then?" he asked.

She shook her head. "I can't tell you."

"What? Why?"

"Because, I could be wrong," she said simply, taking a bite of her bread and licking a crumb from her lip.

"Well, that'd be a first," he joked. "Come on, tell me."

She shook her head resolutely. "Nope."

"Hermione!" he exclaimed. "That's not fair! I don't have any intuition! You have to share," he told her.

"I don't want to be wrong," she insisted.

"It's okay if you're wrong. It's just a guess. We're happy either way," he said.

"Then it doesn't matter."

"Hermione," he whined.

She finished her glass of water. "I'm not telling."

Fred woke up, as he had done purposely for the past few nights now, and this time he knew he was right. She was crying again. He sat up, leaning over her as he heard her sob faintly and taking a deep breath, he resigned to do something about it. This was the opportunity. "It's okay," he whispered, placing a hand on her shoulder and turning her towards him. "Hermione." He cleared his throat. "Hermione," he repeated.

She shook her head and the barest of smiles lifted the corners of her mouth. He hadn't noticed if she'd done that before.

"Hermione." He shook her gently until her eyes blinked open. "Love, what's wrong?"

"Hm?" She seemed to take in her surroundings, blinking as her wet lashes stuck together. "I'm fine," she said groggily.

"You were crying," he told her, staring at her seriously.

She brushed the back of her hand across her cheeks. "No, I'm fine," she whispered, shaking her head. She curled against him and closed her eyes. "Go back to sleep."

He shook his head. "No," he said. He felt her tense. "Hermione, I want to talk about this. What's bothering you?"

"It doesn't matter. It's nothing."

"No, it does matter," he said. "What's going on?"

The breath she took in was shuddery and when she exhaled it was relenting. "I keep dreaming about my parents," she admitted.

"Your parents?" he asked. He wasn't sure what he was expecting. He'd imagined anything from the war, to troubles with him, to her pregnancy. He hadn't really considered her parents.

"Memories mostly," she continued softly. "But sometimes I picture them here. Now."

"You miss them." He was an insensitive idiot, he thought. He deserved to be hit upside the head. Of course she missed them. Why had he thought having this conversation in the middle of the night was a good idea? That was the stupidest thing he could have said. Why didn't he think of her parents?

She nodded against him.

"Hermione," he began, "things have settled down. It's safe now. If you want to find them—"

"N-no. I-I couldn't bear it if they…" She trailed off. Her voice was less than a whisper. "If they hated me for it."

"They could never hate you," he told her.

"I manipulated their minds."

"For their safety."

She sighed, not debating any further. "I don't know why I'm having them now. Ginny said she's been having a lot of weird dreams and it's common during pregnancy but…I feel like this is different. I think with the baby on the way and everything I just…miss them." She shook her head. "It's okay though," she said. "Really. I'm fine. And more importantly, they're fine."

His question was hesitant. He wasn't sure if it was still appropriate. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"What's there to talk about?" she asked quietly.

"Your dreams, or, memories," he said. "Er, when George and I used to have nightmares we'd wake each other up and tell each other all about it, you know, to get it out of our heads. That way we could go back to sleep without worrying we'd dream it all again."

"Oh."

"You don't have to," he added, trying to keep the disappointment from his voice. "But it might help."

"Okay."

"Is that a yes?"

"Hm?" Before he could elaborate, she went on. "My parents were dentists." He knew this, but rather than remind her of that, he waited patiently for her to go on. "One of my earliest memories is reading in the waiting room of their office. The secretary used to keep an eye on me," she said. "In between the appointments my parents would come out check up on me. Sometimes I dream my parents are in that room playing with me, reading to me. That sort of thing. Sometimes I remember holidays with them. Christmas. Ski trips. Camping. The week we spent in Spain." She fell silent.

His arm wrapped around her back and he traced over the ridges of her spine, traveling the curve up and down. "Tell me more about your parents?" he asked.

She sucked in a deep breath and buried closer to him, crossing a leg over his and relaxing into his warmth. She told him about every memory turned dream that she could recall, and then went on to share more. She told him about the first time they took her to the zoo. The museum they went to every other Sunday. Told him about the time they stayed out in the sun of a Saturday afternoon and they'd all turned pink with sunburn. She laughed through the tears she couldn't stop as she recounted the happy childhood memories. Her nostalgia took a huge toll on her emotions yet she was surprised to find that she didn't mind crying. In fact, though she apologized more than once for wetting Fred's t-shirt and sniffling like she'd caught cold, she felt a little relieved after she managed to tell each story, glad that she could remember them so clearly, every insignificant detail, outside of her subconscious. She felt a release with the tears that she shed.

"Fred, did you ever meet my parents?" she asked, her voice wavered despite her efforts to control it.

"Once, I think. Briefly. In Diagon?" He could vaguely remember being collectively introduced as his parents' children to a man with greying brown hair and a petite woman with curly locks. He hadn't paid them much attention then. Now he wished he had.

"My mother would have loved you," she told him.

"You think?" he asked, liking the idea.

"Oh, I just know it," she confirmed. "Maybe not at first, but my mum would have warmed to you in no time. She was always telling me that I needed to relax a bit. She would have seen how good you are for me. Probably before I saw it even."

"And your father?"

She thought about this, carefully considering and picturing the events in her mind. "He'd have to see how clever you are," she told him. "He always told me that I'd have to find someone as clever as I am to keep me on my toes. So, naturally, he thought no one would ever be good enough. He was rather intimidating when he wanted to be." She laughed lightly, wondering how her dad would have reacted to hearing the news that she'd be married to one of the twin pranksters she'd told plenty of stories about.

"I bet you two would get on though," she said. "According to my mum, my dad had a bit of a scheming streak himself back in their schooldays."

Fred smiled. He wished he could actually, properly, meet her parents and verify this all for himself. Find out if they'd really approve of him, and if they'd really think him a good husband for their daughter. She seemed confident that they'd like him. He wished he had the chance to charm them into wanting him for a son in law.

"They met in school?" he asked.

"Mhm," she hummed. "They only started dating once they were both going in to dentistry though. My mum was two years behind my dad in school, he didn't recognize her when she first talked to him."

She was quiet for a moment, deep in thought, before she continued. "When I was younger, I thought my parents were the most unromantic couple there was. They just…they didn't seem like they were in love like how I saw it in films or in books. They always seemed happy," she said, "but it wasn't until I was in second or third year at Hogwarts that I realized how much better their love was. It wasn't like in films or books." Her fingers traced mindless swirls on his chest as she sighed.

"The love I saw in films was planned. It built like a storm, had passion like lightning," she went on. "You know. Characters were always snogging in the rain or kissing after heartfelt confessions, tears and all." He'd only ever seen one film, and it had been a documentary in muggle studies, yet strangely he found himself understanding her completely. "Love seemed to come in bursts," she said. "And that's where the stories ended. They never tell you what happens after. It took me a while before I realized that it's because you can't go on like that forever. There isn't always going to be rain, or storms, or confessions to be made. And honestly, there shouldn't be."

She took a deep breath. "My father used to crush tablets for my mum when she had a headache, because she hated to swallow pills, and he made her the tea she liked best every morning even though it wasn't his favourite. I don't think my mum ever knew that he liked earl grey as much as he did. She hated it."

He chuckled. He wasn't a fan of the brew himself.

"My mum used to make the bed so the sheets hung down farther on my dad's side because she knew she pulled the covers in her sleep even though he never complained. She used to slip little notes into his lab coat sometimes. He saved them in a jar at home, things like 'I love you', 'Have a nice day', 'Watch out for your three o'clock, he's a biter'." They laughed. "I used to set the table and watch them make dinner sometimes. My dad always had the wireless or some old tape playing. He couldn't cook for anything, so my mum did most of the actual work. He was only allowed to help prepare. But every once in awhile he'd pull her away from the stove and they'd dance until she had to worry about the chicken burning and I just…I knew that was what I wanted. As hopeless a romantic I was for classic romance novels, I knew what my parents had was undoubted love," she said. "Quiet sometimes, but always there and never wavering. I wanted a love like theirs."

"Wanted?" Fred murmured, smoothing back her hair and twirling the ends around his fingers.

"Mhm," she sighed.

"Did you find it?"

"I think it found me."

Author's Note: I feel like this chapter is choppy. I'm sorry if it is, I think I read it very differently having wrote it myself. A few things:

1) Thank you so much for all of the reviews and votes! There was a whole onslaught of them and it was the best thing ever. Thank you.

2) Sorry this took so long.

3) I already have the beginnings for the next chapter so if you'd like, review and I shall send you a snippet. Just put a request for item 3 in the review.

4)I'm beginning to think of baby names (if you have any in mind, feel free to send them my way) and have compiled a list. Do you want it to be a total surprise or should I open a poll with some of the ones I've picked out and have you all vote?

Thanks for reading!

Anyways,

Scarlett