This was not part of the plan, not scheduled in the agenda, so why was it happening?
Oh.
"Ron?" Hermione calls, hearing the door to the apartment open. She sits down on the corner of the bed, the totality of the situation finally washing over her as the footsteps walk closer.
Ron enters their room, still pulling his gloves off, the snow on his boots melting all over the carpet. "Hullo," he mutters, leaning down to kiss the top of her head as he passes through to the bathroom.
She takes a deep breath, working up the courage to tell him before she breaks down into tears again. He didn't even look at her face.
"Hermione," he says slowly, "what is this?" He's in the door of the bathroom, holding up the test.
"Positive," she answers, breaking into sobs again.
"Blimey. But…how?" he asks, dropping the test and stumbling over to her, still not looking at her face.
"I dunno, Ronald," she hisses through the tears, "maybe last weekend, or the week before that, or in the car, or over holiday, or any time in between, you choose."
"Hermione…." He kicks off his boots and sits down on the bed next to her. "This isn't a bad thing, y'know." He tries to take her hand but she pulls away.
"Of course not, but it sure isn't good! This is not how this is supposed to happen! We were supposed to be married and own a house before we started making a family, not start from the end! This is not in the plan."
Hermione lets the sobs take over, her head falling, and Ron moves closer so he can comfort her. He wraps his right arm around her shoulders, using his other hand to lift her chin. She looks at him, the fear plastered all over her face. He moves his hand down, past her shoulder, her elbow, her hand, and finally reaches her stomach, flattening his palm against the fabric of her shirt.
"That can all change, we can make that happen," he finally reassures her.
"How?"
"We can buy a house, we can get married, it's not like we weren't going to. This is just the trigger, y'know?" He runs his hands through his hair, as if trying to convince her as much as himself.
"We can't just get married because I'm pregnant! That's not how it's supposed to happen!" She pulls away, standing up. She starts to pace, her arms folded as she glares at the floor.
"But that's how it's going to happen regardless, so we might as well not fight it," Ron counters, standing up as well. He pulls her in close to him again, placing another hand on her stomach. "This doesn't change anything but the order in which the "plan" is written." They both glance down at her stomach.