Author's Note: Hey! Roads were too nasty to drive to school today, so I wrote this instead:)
This isn't really particularly oneshot-like, but as soon as I get through this story about the baby, than they should become more like typical oneshots.
Thank you to everyone who favorited or alerted! You guys ROCK!
Niftygirl, once again is amazing for reading through this :)
I don't think I have anything else to say, reviews are greatly apprecitated.
Enjoy!

The paperwork took longer than he had expected, or perhaps he had simply underestimated how distracted he was. When he had finally dotted the last 'i' it was nearly noon. He stacked the papers neatly, and pushed back his chair.

He was debating whether or not to go down to the Leakey Cauldron for some lunch when his door opened and the tiny middle aged witch who served as a secretary for the Auror department entered.

"There's an owl from your wife Mr. Weasley," she offered him a sealed envelope addressed to him in Hermione's neat handwriting.

"Thank you," he said as he took the envelope. The witch smiled at him.

"Still no baby?" she asked. Ron chuckled. It seemed that that was all anyone had asked him for weeks.

"Not yet," he answered beginning to open the envelope. She nodded and returned to her own desk, closing his door quietly behind her. Hermione's note was short, and looked as though it had been scribbled quickly. Well, it was scribbled by Hermione's standards anyway, the result was still something that was at least ten times neater then his own best handwriting.

Ron,

When you come home, bring Fizzing Whizbees.

Love,

Hermione

Ron smiled to himself as he read it. For months Hermione had been experiencing odd cravings for wizard candies she had never even particularly enjoyed. Ron was typically quite amused by these cravings, except of course when they sent him flooing all over the place in the middle of the night. He was still better off than Harry at least. Ginny had gone through both pregnancies eating almost nothing besides cupcakes from this one Muggle shop. Poor Harry had been in there every day, buying the pink frosted things by the dozen. He had on multiple occasions complained to Ron about how much he now loathed the very sight of a cupcake.

He picked up the stack of papers on his desk and removed his jacket from where it hung. Stepping out into the hallway, he was shocked at how many people seemed to be filling it, and what was more, that they all seemed to be aware that his baby had not yet been born.

At last he reached Harry's office, which seemed like a haven of safety after the throng of sympathetic and inquisitive people he had had to wade through.

"Blimey," he said, closing the door to Harry's office. "How is it that everyone seems to care whether or not Hermione's had the bloody baby?"

Harry seemed completely unsurprised that Ron had come barging into his office, swearing about the people in the hallway.

"They're just showing off how well they know what's going on in your life." said Harry without looking up from his desk. Ron walked up to him and placed his stack of papers on his desk.

"Here's that paperwork. Would you mind if I took off?" Harry looked up at him. "Hermione's home all alone, and I'm too distracted to be much use any way." He felt for a moment a horrible sensation as if he were explaining to Snape why he had failed to complete his homework, but instead of sneering at him as Snape would have done, Harry merely smiled.

"Of course mate. Tell her I said hello."

"Yeah, thanks." He slipped into his jacket. Harry turned his attention back to his work.

"Don't mention it."

He made his way out of the building, emerging in a few minutes onto the streets of Muggle London. Outside a cold drizzly rain fell from the gray, cloud covered size. Ron zipped his jacket as he walked along the streets to the Leakey Cauldron. He passed through the bar quickly, resisting the urge to at least get a sandwich. He did not know exactly why, but he was very eager to get home. Diagon Alley, wasn't very crowded, probably due to the dreariness of the day. It brought to the front of his mind the memory of the day that he, Harry, Hermione, and a goblin called Griphook had travelled to this same alley in disguise to rob Gringotts.

Remembering that event caused him to remember the rest of that horrific day. He pushed the memory away. Even now he could see his brother's eyes glassed over and empty, he could feel the magical fire engulfing him, he could hear You-Know-Who declaring that Harry was dead. He pushed it out of his mind, cold and powerful though those memories may be, he was strong enough now to keep them from taking hold of his mind the way they used to. He could never forget how painful and horrific that night had been, but he no longer dwelled on it. He could go whole weeks, not without thinking of Fred, but without thinking of him like that. He could now remember his brother as he had been, as opposed to the empty body lying on the floor of the Great Hall beside so many others. Naturally it had taken ages to arrive at this healthy attitude. He was grateful at least, that all of the things he had given up in his life would mean that his child would never have to make such sacrifices.

He went quickly into the small candy shop that was one of the many new stores in the alley. He wished that he could have some prediction of which candy Hermione would want next, so that he could simply stock up now and save himself a trip. But there was never any sense to her cravings, so he simply grabbed a package of Fizzing Whizbees. He glanced at a display of Chocolate Frogs and resisted the childish urge to buy the whole display, simply to see how many of the collectable cards featured his own name. He quickly paid for the Whizbees so as to remove himself from the temptation.

He contemplated a walk up to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes for a quick visit with George. But despite the emptiness of the street, the store looked crowed and he really did want to get home and find some food.

He returned to the Leakey Cauldron and flooed home. Hermione looked up at him as he emerged from the fireplace. She was still sitting on the couch where he had left her this morning, but she had removed her shoes and had a book balanced on her belly.

"You're home?" she asked, she appeared worried for a moment. "Is something wrong?"

He strode across the room and kissed her forehead, "Nothing's wrong. I got your candy." He handed her the package and she smiled as she popped one into her mouth.

"Thank you. Do you have to go back?" he shook his head, and she visibly relaxed.

"Harry says hello." Said Ron as he sat down beside his wife on the couch, she rested her head against his shoulder.

"He and Ginny are coming for supper. I owled to invite them, I still feel horrible for waking them up." She closed her book and set it down, rubbing her round stomach gently.

"What did Ginny say when you told her that?" asked Ron, whose eyelids felt enormously heavy again.

"She said it was really your fault and I shouldn't feel bad." Ron laughed, yes that did sound like exactly the sort of thing his sister would say.

"I'm not surprised. I suppose technically it is my fault."

Hermione reached for his hand. "Don't talk like that Ronald Weasley. It isn't anybody's fault; we wanted this baby." Ron placed that hand that Hermione was holding on her stomach gently.

"You know I don't feel like that. Ginny is just tired, and probably trying to get revenge on me for all the times I accused Harry of knocking her up." Hermione's chuckle was cut off by a particularly loud growl from Ron's stomach.

"Haven't you eaten?" she sat up to look at his face.

"No," he admitted, grabbing her hand as she made to get up off the couch.

"Let me make you something." She protested, attempting to pull her hand free.

"No," he got up from the couch himself and propped a pillow beneath her head. "You sit right here." He handed her her discarded book. "I'm perfectly qualified to make myself a sandwich."

As he walked into the kitchen she muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "just don't burn down the house". He smiled thinking to himself how impossible it would be to love her any more…