Author's Note: I'm such a bad, bad person! I'm horribly sorry for not having updated for such a long period of time, but this year was extremely hectic. Not only that, but my muse (sixth one in two years), Delilah; a figment of my oscillating imagination, had gone on strike. Now Kringlefaber, my third muse, has decided to come back from her prolonged holiday. Please find it in your heart of hearts to forgive a poor girl who will be off to college in a few months time and thank you in advance.

Summary: To every action, there is a reaction. Oliver learns this lesson when he snacks on Hermione's lovers, Ben & Jerry.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books, Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Chunky Monkey

By: Fidelius Charmer

"You're a self-centered pig, I hope you know that!" Hermione yelled as she searched for a heavy object to throw at Oliver. Luckily, there was a vase conveniently placed within hands reach and she made a grab for it. Taking the vase in her hands, she brandished it as if it were a weapon.

"Woman, put the bloody vase down before you hurt someone." Oliver replied from his position behind the couch.

"That would be the purpose, darling," Hermione said sweetly and threw the vase. Oliver ducked just in time and heard the vase 'whoosh' over his head and shatter as it hit the wall behind him. "Oh, how could you do this to me, Oliver," she sobbed as she slid to the ground.

"Stop being so goddamn theatrical, Hermione," Oliver said. "You are blowing this way-Ow, bloody glass-out of proportion…is it that time of the month again," he asked while bringing his palm up to his lips to remove the shard of glass that was stuck there.

Hermione spat in Oliver's general direction. "What a typical man-thing to say! And no, it's not that time of the month. I just can't believe that you-that you ate the last of the Ben & Jerry's without offering any to me," she said, her bottom lip quivering.

Oliver sighed loudly, eyeing the blood on his hand from the now glass-free cut before he resignedly crawled over to Hermione and wrapped his arms around her. "Honey, I'm so sorry. I was just so hungry after practice and it was the only th-"

"No excuses, Oliver. I really don't need any excuses," Hermione said, holding up her hand to silence him. After a few deep breaths, she felt the urge she had been harboring to strangle the insufferable man diminish. Sighing loudly, she said, "You know, my dear, you're right; I probably did blow this way out of proportion."

"Damn right," Oliver muttered.

Hermione glared at him. "Are you in the mood to lose any limbs, darling," she said between clenched teeth. Oliver shook his head vigorously. "Good…now what was I saying before I was rudely," she jabbed her elbow into his ribs, "interrupted. Ah yes, proportion...in the end, it's still entirely your fault."

Oliver groaned at the abuse, but nevertheless, rested his head atop hers and kissed her temple. "I sincerely regret having ever laid eyes upon your damn pint of Chunky Monkey, my clever, but oh so infuriating Hermione, but please explain to me how a few spoonfuls of banana ice cream can lead to such a violent onslaught," he muttered into her coconut-scented hair.

"Have you noticed the pounds I've magically seemed to acquire over these past few blissful months that we've spent together," she suddenly asked in an almost unintelligible whisper.

A pregnant silence followed and Hermione nervously buried her face into the fetid folds of Oliver's practice shirt. It smelled like a ferret; a ferret that had rolled around in its own feces before dying, but the rancid smell hardly mattered to her. Hermione was too frightened to look up and face Oliver.

Then finally, Oliver opened his mouth and said the most infuriating thing known to human-kind; making Hermione want to throttle him all over again. "I've noticed, my lovely Chunky Monkey, but I always thought it was because of all that Ben & Jerry's you've been eating. Furthermore, what does this have to do with our current predicament?"

Hermione groaned loudly into his shirt, and tightly grasped the foul, cotton fabric. "Do I have to spell everything out for you," she asked as she shook him violently from side to side.

"Well apparently," Oliver said as his eyes widened with fear. That was when all hell broke loose (so to speak), for the next thing he knew, Hermione was straddling him, her hands wrapped tightly around his neck as she banged his head against the hardwood floor. Oliver was terrified by this point in time, and matters didn't improve when he looked up at his (he was almost certain) psychotic girlfriend and saw that she was enjoying herself…profusely.

"I'm pregnant, you twit!" Hermione screeched between each 'thunk' Oliver's head made as it connected with the living room floor.

"Oh." Then everything faded into oblivion when Oliver Wood, the soon-to-be-father thankfully lost consciousness.