"Where were you?" Hermione asked, walking down the stairs of her and her husband's small apartment quickly. The redhead had promised to be home nearly an hour ago.
"Harry was having a breakdown," Ron explained, "I'm sorry, love. He and Ginny are fighting again, and I just really wanted to help them out."
"Harry does still have his house hooked up to the Floo, doesn't he?"
"Harry hasn't gone home in two days, Hermione. He's sleeping on the couch at the office, and if you ever came home from work, you'd've noticed," Ron snapped.
"Well. I'm home now, aren't I?"
"It's eleven at night, Hermione, and I'd wager you've only just come in," Ron said, stomping down the hall to the small kitchen. "No dinner, no mess, no tea. Why am I not surprised?"
"Yes, and you've been coming home at five to see me every night, have you?" Hermione said, having followed him, she was now standing, hands on hips, in the doorway.
"That's beside the point, because if I was, or if I Flooed in a at seven, when you're supposed to get in, every bloody night to tell you I missed you and I'd be late, you wouldn't know now, would you?" Ron said, furiously summoning eggs and a bowl, grabbing a whisk and attacking them by hand with particular venom.
"If," Hermione said, starkly, "you had flooed at seven-fourteen tonight, I would have been at home. Because I wanted to talk to you, I still want to talk to you. But apparently, all we're going to do is fight."
"Apparently," Ron said, with a particularly strong flick of his wrist that sent yoke flying onto the wall, taken care of with a twist of his wife's wand. "So, why don't you head to bed, where we'll sleep on opposite sides, as usual, and perhaps, in the morning, you'll kiss me on the cheek without any criticisms."
"Ron!" Hermione said, "that's not true!"
"Which part of that isn't true?"
"All of it! I love you, and I do kiss you without criticizing and we don't sleep on opposite sides of the bed. And oh, God, Ron, what's wrong with us?" Hermione said, in a rush, and then promptly burst into tears. Ron put down the whisk and stepped over to her quickly, sliding his arms around her waist. He had never been able to take her tears.
"Look at me," Ron said, after a moment had passed, putting a finger to her chin and pulling her face up from his shoulder. "I know that, I was angry, and I'm sorry. I love you, too, and I just miss the way things used to be."
"But nothing's ever going to stay the same Ron, and everything's going to change soon, and what if we can't take it? What if you left me?" Hermione asked, her voice broken by sobs.
"If anyone's doing the leaving, it'll be you. I tend to stick around," Ron said. "And what's going to change, love?"
"I wanted to tell you differently," Hermione mumbled, "because I knew you wouldn't be happy about it and I just…" She broke down again. "I don't even know how it happened, I thought I was being careful and then…"
"Are you alright?" Ron asked.
"I'm pregnant, is what I am. And I know we were going to wait, until we weren't working so much and until you thought you were ready and until I was ready not to work, but I was just so happy when I found out. And I knew you wouldn't be and I just- don't make me do this on my own!"
"You're mental love," Ron said, laughing, "completely mental, but I do love you. Very much. And we were going to wait, but it's alright.