Ron was glad when Fred and George left – they had been dropping baby-related jokes all afternoon. The kettle filled itself with a flick of his wand, and with another flick, a cooking pot flew out of the cupboard and filled itself with pasta.
When the kettle had boiled, Ron made the tea and brought a mug into the living room for Hermione, who was poring through the Weasley Names Dictionary. This book had been used since before Charlie was born, and was stained, tatty and worn through. It held a lot of memories, however – Ron had flicked through it to find circled names such as the familiar 'Ginevra', 'Percival and 'Ronald'. There were also second choices – Hermione had found a note in Molly's handwriting that said – 'No. 6 Kenneth?' and a long list of girls' names that had never been used.
'Thanks, Ron.' Hermione said, gratefully taking the mug of tea. Ron sat down beside her and peered over her shoulder.
'Found anything?' Ron asked. Hermione nodded.
'Well, I'd like something a little unusual. Georgia's nice.'
'We are NOT naming our baby after George, Hermione.' Ron shot back, annoyed. Hermione rolled her eyes.
'I like the name! She doesn't have to be named after George!' Hermione replied crossly, firing Ron an angry look.
'Well, let's choose another name, then!' Ron took the book from Hermione and flicked through the pages. 'See here? Rona's a nice name - '
'That's because it sounds almost exactly like yours!' shouted Hermione.
'I'd rather she was named after me than my older brother!' Ron replied, much louder.
'Fine! Call her Rona – it should be all right as long as I don't have any say whatsoever!' Hermione yelled, slamming the book shut and storming upstairs, leaving Ron alone on the sofa. Ron sighed, knowing that Hermione wasn't about to come round on her own.
'Headstrong, my Hermione…' Ron muttered to himself, and he slowly got off the sofa and climbed the stairs after her. He pushed open the bedroom door to find his wife sitting on the edge of the bed with her head in her hands. Ron quietly walked over to her and carefully sat down next to her. When she turned away, he stroked her arm and edged closer, tucking a strand of curly brown hair behind her ear.
'Sorry…' he said quietly, 'you have your say, Hermione. We'll call our baby Georgia, if it means that much to you. I'm sorry I made you shout, it's bad for you…'
When she still didn't turn round, Ron tried to slide a hand round her waist, but she flinched away. Ron tried again, wrapping his arm round her and placing his hand on her stomach. Hermione turned, and collapsed against him.
'S-sorry, Ron…Stupid hormones…' she said, laughing shakily, wiping her eyes with her sleeve.
'It's ok, love. Come on, the pasta should be done by now, anyway.'
Ron put an arm round her and they walked down together.
Dinner was a pleasant affair – Ron's cooking was better than usual, and both of them, feeling guilty after arguing earlier, were striving to get along well. They had decided against Georgia as a name, but were still far from choosing one for their unborn daughter.