I still do not own Harry Potter, alas. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling.

AN: It was pointed out that in my story, Ron is a quidditch player, which is not canon compliant. Think I should go back and make him an auror? It would be an easy switch, but if no one cares I'll keep him in quidditch, or maybe switch him over to auror later- meh?

Lunch passed pleasantly enough and before I knew it, we'd finished and were getting our bills. Ron put his hand out and snatched mine before I could take it. I frowned at him and he shook his head.

"I owe you for not owling you sooner," he insisted and ignored me when I protested. I hung back while he settled the bill and Harry looked to Ginny.

"My shift is over for the day, if you want to head home or do something later," he told her and she smiled up at him.

"Sounds good," she said and looked at me. "Think you can manage the rest of the proofing without me? Maybe you can ask Ron to help," she added slyly.

I glared at her and Harry looked at me strangely. The knowing glances had increased with every not-so-subtle hint Ginny had laid out over the meal, though none of them came from Ron. He might be smart, handsome and incredibly talented with a…ball and a broom (for lack of a better term), but paying attention to the conversation while food was around was not one of his good qualities.

"So you're baby-proofing?"

"For when I baby-sit," I said quickly. "That's all."

"Uh-huh," he murmured, eyeing me suspiciously. He looked at Ron, who was coming back over. "Well, mate," he said, "Ginny and I are off. What are your plans?"

"Oh- er, thought I'd walk Hermione back to her flat, didn't I?" he said, glancing at me and grinning. "S'alright?"

"Yes," I replied, directing my glare from Ginny to her husband- the man I thought was my best friend. Bros before hos, I could see was now the presiding motto. Harry looked back at me innocently. "Yes, that's alright. Well, have a nice afternoon, you two," I said. "Try not to make anymore babies," I sniffed and Harry stifled a laugh while Ginny rolled her eyes.

"I might say the same thing to you," she directed at me over her shoulder as they walked away down the street. Ron stared after them, scratching his head, then looked back at me.

"Well, might as well be off. Was there anything else you needed to do? A trip to Diagon Alley, anything like that?" he asked me and I shook my head, feeling shy again.

"No, nothing like that."

"Oh, hey, there's a new custard shop not too far from your flat. Why don't we pick some up? Take it back to your flat?"

"Oh, you don't have to come up," I started to say and Ron looked away, the smile wiped from his face. After a second he forced another grin.

"What if I want to? I can help with the rest of the baby-proofing," he offered. "What do you say? I don't have practice the rest of the weekend."

"Um- really? You want to help?"

"Yeah, why not?" he said, looking down at me. "Unless you don't want me in your flat," he suggested in a low voice. Then he winked at me. Ron Weasley actually winked at me. I burst out laughing.

"Oh, no, that's not it," I said quickly. "I don't mind, you silly man. It'll be nice to chat for a bit, won't it? We haven't seen each other in a while, after all-"

"Not since the wedding," he finished. He looked as if he wanted to say more, but raised an arm and pointed. "Ah, there it is, just ahead. What do you think, custard?"

"Custard," I agreed, feeling rather silly myself. We came back out of the shop minutes later with a couple of boxes (one was definitely chocolate) and Ron held them while I let us into the building. We walked up the two flights and he pointed at the lift as I was letting us into the flat.

"How come you never use the lift?" he asked.

"It's not such a long way to walk," I replied. Though now that I'd thought about it, I assumed I'd have to use it eventually, especially once I was several months along and nasty things like swollen ankles had happened. I shuddered at the thought and indicated he put the boxes in the refrigerator.

"So, what's left that needs doing?" he asked me. I wandered back to the living room and started to kneel so I could reach under the small side table again and Ron stopped me. "No, no- as much as I enjoyed the view before, Hermione," he said with an honesty that made me blush, "Mum would kill me if she knew I'd made you crawl around under there and not lifted a finger to help. Let me."

I stood back awkwardly and he retrieved the baby cover, then made me hand him the screwdriver. His voice drifted back to me while I admired the view this time.

"Oh, I see how this works- say, that's pretty smart, isn't it? Huh, muggles- never fail to surprise me," he was saying. I smiled, too amused to be offended. He was sounding more like his father the older he got. I could see him, years from now, looking and sounding just like Arthur, with myself as his Molly, bustling from my job to the daycare, to getting dinner. As modern and independent as I was, the thought made my heart swell. Besides, it wasn't like Ron couldn't cook- he'd begun managing for himself nicely the last two years. I was so caught up in the daydream that I didn't notice he'd finished with the cover and was now kneeling on the floor, staring up at what must decidedly have been a bemused expression on my face.

"Hermione?" he asked and I snapped back into the moment.

"Hmm?"

"I said, how many other covers do you need put on?"

"Oh, erm- just in the bedrooms, next," I said. "I'd keep the doors closed when I sit, but you never know where little kids are going to get into," I murmured with a weak grin.

"That's true enough," he replied. "I sat James a few times and he's already getting into trouble," he said.

"You baby-sat?" I asked, surprised.

"Yeah," he replied. "Shocked he's still alive, are you? What is it with you and always acting like-"

"I didn't mean it that way," I said quickly while he followed me back into the other rooms. "I just didn't think you liked them much-"

"I like kids," he murmured gruffly, then paused in the doorway of my bedroom. Suddenly he looked as awkward as I'd felt a moment ago. "You, er, changed the colors," he said and I glanced about, knowing that there was now a permanent stain upon my cheeks. I wondered if I'd stop blushing in the next ten years or so.

"Yes, well- it was time for a change," I said. The room was done in shades of rose and cream. I'd thought it was very sophisticated when I'd picked them out.

"I didn't know you liked red so well," he said softly. "It was green last time, wasn't it?"

"Um, I like red," I replied. "I like red a lot," I added in a whisper, my eyes darting up to his hair and back to his face before I looked away. His face was pink now, too.

"Hermione-" he said in a strangled voice and I looked up at him again to find him tossing the covers and screwdriver on the bed as he closed the distance between us, taking me in his arms.

"Ron?" I managed to blurt out before he bent over me and covered my lips with his. His arms were wrapped about my shoulders and mine were up against his chest. I could feel the heat from his skin through the light sweater he was wearing and although he felt a little thinner than he had two months before at the wedding, I could still detect the outline of hardened muscle from all his quidditch training.

It was obscene how easily I was turned on by the man, I thought.

He made a little noise deep in his throat as he plundered my mouth and I fisted handfuls of his sweater, pulling him even closer. One of his arms moved away and landed against the wall behind us; before my own back met the wall as well; and he leaned into me, hard in an effort to get as close as possible. It was easy to see where this was going if one of us didn't stop it. It had always been this way, really. We'd realized pretty quickly in our relationship that all those times we'd wanted to beat the other person's brains in had just been sexual tension rearing its proverbial head. But Merlin, I didn't care- as much as I hadn't cared that night in his mum's pantry.

The thought sent warning bells off in my head and I finally managed to tear my mouth away from his, although he continued to kiss me, starting with my jaw and trailing down my neck. In order to reach it better he hefted me up against him and pulled my legs about his waist. Oh, yes, this position was definitely familiar.

"Ron," I breathed, and he made that little noise again, hefted my legs higher. I could feel his arousal through the fabric of his corduroys and whined some. His lips were still plying the skin of my throat and he was clearly bent on his task, not paying any attention to my words. He was as bad with sex as he was about food, honestly.

Not that I'd normally mind, but Ginny was right. I had to tell him- preferably before we slept together again.

"Ron," I said again, a little more insistently and he finally pulled away and looked me in the face, his eyes slightly glazed, lips swollen, hair mussed from where one of my hands had crept into it moments before. I sighed and he started to move forward to kiss me again.

"Hermione, I love you," he said hoarsely. "I'm sorry, I can't not say it anymore- I know you wanted to stay casual, but-" and here he began kissing me in between words, "I just kept hoping- that you would- realize how I- felt-"

I tugged on his hair. "Ron, put me down," I said. "Ron- Ron!"

He finally pulled away completely, his face a bright red and gently lowered my feet to the floor again. I could feel tears building in my eyes. He loved me? He loved me- that should make me really happy- ecstatic, even.

"Hermione, I-"

"I love you too!" I blurted out, then clapped my hands over my mouth.

His eyes widened and a huge smile spread across his face. "You- you do?"

I nodded miserably. Now for the hard part.

"You don't look happy," he pointed out and crossed his arms- presumably to keep himself from grabbing me and swinging me around, like he did in all my best daydreams.

"I- that is- I am, and I mean it, Ron, I do, but I-" I stopped and took a deep breath. "I'm pregnant and I don't know if you're the father or not," I said in a rush.

His smile got bigger for one glorious moment and I thought he would swing me around anyway, but then it collapsed.

"What?"

I covered my face with my hands and started to cry. "I'm so, so sorry, Ron!" I exclaimed. "I got so upset with you when you didn't owl after that time, at the wedding, and I didn't know what was going on, so I got really angry and pulled someone just to get back at you and I've regretted it ever since and now I'm pregnant and I'm so, so sorry, Ron!" I managed to blubber through my tears.

I peeked at Ron through my fingers and saw him unfold his arms, then cross them again, then unfold them again. His face did the same series of flip flops before a look of confused sympathy settled on it. He took my hands in his and lowered them from my face. He squeezed them gently before fishing a handkerchief from his pocket for me and wiping my cheeks with it.

"Let's go talk about this…somewhere else," he said. "Kitchen or living room?"

"Kitchen," I mumbled and he put an arm about my shoulders and led me out of the bedroom. If he glanced back at the bed regretfully, I didn't notice. I was feeling the same way right about then, anyway. Bloody conscience.

"Right," he replied. "It's definitely time for that custard," he said, with a small smile down at me.

I was so stunned he could still smile at me after all that, I didn't say another word for some minutes.

AN: Well, it's not much in the way of cliffhangers, but it will do. Cheers!