"Finally!" Mrs. Weasley was the first to break the silence as her stunned expression gave way to a cheerful, watery-eyed smile. (She always cried at such good news.) "First it takes you seven years to finally realize you're feelings for each other, then another seven to get some grandchildren out of you two! For Merlin's sake it's about time."

Everyone else quickly followed Molly's lead, abandoning their surprised expressions. "This is wonderful, Hermione! When are you due?" Ginny asked over the happy chatter, as she brushed the glittering confetti out of her hair.

"Well I'm three months along now."

"And you're just telling us?" Harry chided jokingly.

"I just found out too, mate." Ron answered him. Harry looked questioningly at Hermione who gave him the same answer that she gave Ron.

"Well, I wasn't completely sure until about a month and a half ago when I went to see a muggle doctor and well, we've been busy," She still felt a little guilty about waiting so long to tell Ron. "I haven't decided if I want to stick with a muggle doctor, or if I want to use a healer. I set up an appointment with the healer Ginny went to for next week." She finished looking slightly overwhelmed. Telling everyone just made it feel so much more real.

Everyone else then began bombarding the expecting couple with questions while eating James' Birthday cake. James didn't seem to mind in the least that the attention had focused away from him slightly; he sat in his chair feeding himself handfuls of cake, throwing the occasional chunk at an unsuspecting adult.

They stayed to see Harry and Ginny open all of James' rather large pile of presents—including the toy broomstick Ron gave him, much like the one Harry had gotten from Sirius when he was a baby. (It must be said that Hermione did not find this an appropriate gift for such a young child, but was talked into getting it by Ron who felt that he must fulfill his 'godfatherly' duties.) After all the presents were opened and the mass of wrapping paper and ribbon cleaned up, Ron and Hermione decided that they should call it a night. They said their good-byes and stepped into the green flames of the fire.

They returned home to their dark, quiet flat. Ron couldn't help but realize now just how lonely it was, how much they needed a new addition to brighten up their rather bland lives. They had been through so much together; why had they waited seven years. Suddenly Ron couldn't find any reason that they should have waited this long. 'Mum's right: finally.' That wasn't the first time Mrs. Weasley had said that to them.

Hermione decided to go straight to bed; she was exhausted from all of the day's excitement—by the time they'd left, Ginny and Mrs. Weasley were already planning a shower, a huge list of possible names had been suggested and everyone seemed to have decided what they would be buying them for the baby.

Ron, however, collapsed onto the sofa where he quickly got lost in his thoughts.

His thoughts were of the first time his mother reacted in such a way as she did that evening; when he was just eighteen and still staying at the Burrow while doing his auror training, the war had really just finished. Sometimes then, they still expected to see Tonks or Lupin come through the door with news; George still paused once in a while expecting his twin to finish his sentences (his sense of humor had not left him); and everyone was still recovering emotionally. It was nearly Christmas and Hermione was staying with them for the holiday…

---

Mrs. Weasley turned the knob and walked in to Ron's bedroom. "Ron, I did you laundry for—oh, my!" For a moment her eyes went wide and her face stern; Ron braced himself for her to yell. Hermione, whose eyes were even wider, had the sheet pulled up from her chin looking positively petrified. Then, to their complete and utter surprise (and horror) Mrs. Weasley walked over smiling broadly. She grabbed pulled them both into a very awkward hug and she began to cry with tears of--could it be-- joy? She was still a little emotionally unstable from all her family had been through, but this—this was no where near the reaction they had braced themselves for.

"Mum, I..."

"It's about time!" Her voice rang through the house and she, thankfully, scurried quickly from the room. Ron turned scarlet, 'Bloody hell, everyone had to of heard that.' He covered his face with his hand. 'No, no, no. This can't be happening.'

Even after the door had shut and Ron had laid back down—still covering his obvious embarrassment—Hermione sat up with the sheets to her chin, looking petrified. Suddenly the colour returned to her face, which had gone completely white upon Mrs. Weasley's entrance, and she blushed furiously. She began to laugh next, and looked at Ron. "I suppose no one's told her, then."

"Why are you laughing? My mother's just caught us shagging!"

"Didn't you hear her? She's happy. She's probably gone and told everyone. You have to admit it is rather funny."

"Funny? You're mad!" Ron removed his hands only to look at her incredulously. "I won't be funny when George gets wind of this."

Hermione only smiled and made to get up, pulling the sheets with her. "'Mione! What are you doing?" Ron grabbed desperately at the end of the sheet as she headed toward his dresser to fix her hair in the mirror.

"Getting dressed and going to get some breakfast, what does it look like?"

"You're not honestly thinking about going down there with my whole family after what's just happened."

"Yes," she threw clothes at him. "And so are you." He obliged, but dressed glaring at her as angrily as he could pretend to be—as hard as he tried it was getting more and more difficult to be genuinely angry with her.

When they got down to the kitchen the table was full of food and Mrs. Weasley was still cooking feverously, apparently in a good mood. And to Ron's despair, the whole family was already seated—including Harry (who was also staying there), Bill and a pregnant (though no one knew yet, at the time) Fleur. The latter two had come for the usual Sunday morning breakfast. Hermione took a seat next to Ginny, leaving only one option; the only open seat was next to George who smiled deviously as he sat down. Ron closed his eyes and sighed deeply, preparing himself for the ridicule. George clapped him on the back, "Ickle Ronnie! How are you? Get a good night sleep?" George emphasized the last word. Ron groaned and stuffed a heaping amount of egg in his mouth, trying his best to avoid their questions—and their gaze. He felt himself redden. By now Mrs. Weasley would usually have cut in to stop the 'nonsense' at hand, but she was busily humming to herself as she cooked, summoning ingredients and utensils from all over the kitchen.

"What's the matter, Ron?" Bill had now joined in; he winked and glanced at Hermione who was deep in conversation with Ginny. Ron shot a pleading look at Harry, who smirked but joined in the girls' conversation.

"Yes, vhat eez wrong, Ron. You look sick," said Fleur looking genuinely concerned.

"I suppose he didn't get much sleep last night. What do you think Dad?"

"Why didn't you sleep, Ron?" He said rather absently, as he was busily fiddling with an old muggle television remote. He and Fleur were obviously the only ones who didn't get the memo. Ron pushed out his chair and left for the front room with rather a lot of commotion. Mr. Weasley looked up and watched him leave. "What's got his wand in a knot?"

"Hermione," George said immediately.

"Am I missing something?"

"You usually are, dad." Bill answered.

"Well, I suppose I should go talk to him?" Mr. Weasley asked more than stated, George just laughed.

Ron was sitting on the sofa staring straight at the ceiling. "Ron? What's going on?"

"Nothing." He didn't look at Mr. Weasley. 'What was the big deal, he was an adult after all. Why was this so horrible? Because you're in your parents house! Ron you really are such a--' He was battling with himself internally when his father cut in.

"George seems to think its Hermione."

"It's nothing, just leave me alone."

"You know, Ron, women are very different from us—"

"Dad, I know. I just—" He was starting to get angry now, but Mr. Weasley didn't seem to notice.

"I realize that it can sometime be hard, especially in times like these, to understand how they're feeling and what you want but you really should try…" He rubbed the side of his face apparently uncomfortable with the conversation. "…to tell her how you feel. Is that what this is about?"

"No. She knows how I feel. It's not about that"

"I think she very well knows how he feels!" Someone—either Bill or George yelled into the room. Ron was now very red and very angry.

"Oh, Well. I see then. Um, I—" He was even more uncomfortable now. "She doesn't share these—umm—feeling then? I don't really know—"

"Oh, no, I think the feeling is mutual!" came another interjection. This was it, Ron couldn't take it anymore his temper was reaching its maximum.

"Then I—" Mr. Weasley opened his mouth to speak but Ron cut in.

"Dad! She knows, I've told her! She gets it! It's not about that! We've had sex, alright Dad? That is what this is about! Mum walked in on us in bed this morning! For Merlin's sake, can anyone get any privacy in this house?" Ron stormed upstairs and slammed his door behind him, leaving a stunned looking Arthur Weasley in the living room…

---

Ron laughed at his recollection; his ears went red just thinking about it. It was the first, as well as the last time his father had ever attempted to talk to him about women. That was when he decided to find his own place; and even long after he did he refused not to put several locking spells on the bedroom door. 'Thinking back,' he thought as he lay there on the sofa, 'It really wasn't that bad…oh who am I kidding that was mortifying." No one even knew then, or said much of anything about he and Hermione's relationship. Even his mother, until walking in on them, was surprisingly unaware. Though, after that incident her heavy, sorrowful mood seemed to begin to lift slightly.What did it matter now; they had grown up even more since and gotten married. He laughed again and stood up, shaking his head at his embarrassing memory. He was going to bed…with his wife.

I have to say, that was a rather funny chapter to write. How do you like the idea of the flashbacks like that one? I'm planning to use them to show glimpses of the earlier parts of Ron and Hermione's relationship. I thought it would be better to do that than try to start right after the war and work up through the next seven years. What does everyone else think?

Thanks for all of your reviews! I'm happy that you're enjoying this story. I'm trying to keep everyone satisfied by reviewing often but I'm not going to promise every chapter will come as quickly as these three have. But thanks again for all the support and feedback I'm getting with the story, it is very encouraging.