A Difficult Conversation

Hermione plopped down on the stool behind the front counter at Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes and watched as her husband of four months locked up the shop. Her and Fred had finally tied the knot after what Molly insisted, despite being provided with evidence to the contrary, on referring to as the longest engagement in wizarding history.

So what if it took them a little longer than the usual couple to set a date? Given the extra long life spans of witches and wizards, Hermione figured that an eight year courtship wasn't that bizarre. Besides once the wedding had been set in motion things had moved extraordinarily fast. The ceremony, the honeymoon, buying a house, moving in together, redecorating, and all the little adjustments that went along with marriage had put the two former Gryffindors into constant motion. Hermione had just found out, moreover, that the changes and alternations to their lives were going to continue into the foreseeable future.

Fred hopped up onto the counter next her and leaned over for a kiss. "You look knackered, luv."

"I found out some surprising news today," she informed him, grabbing his hand and giving it a squeeze.

"What's that?" Fred grinned. "Are you receiving another promotion?"

Hermione shook her head. "Nope. This is news that is going to affect both our lives immensely."

"So spill," Fred told her, cocking an eyebrow.

"I'm pregnant."

Fred shook his head and rolled his eyes. "That's pathetic."

Furrowing her brow and frowning at him, Hermione asked a bit hotly, "What do you mean, 'that's pathetic'?"

"I mean, if you really want me to buy that story, you are going to have to put a lot more effort into the buildup and the delivery."

"More effort…" she repeated slowly.

"Yeah, you need to storm in here raving about how we just turned the spare room into an office and now we are going to have to change it into a nursery. Rant about how your due date is going to fall during the most important section of your next Ministry assignment. Initiate some type of tirade about the lack of onsite childcare at your place of employment. Get all adorably frustrated and flustered like you do when life doesn't exactly follow your plans AND maybe then I'd fall for you being pregnant."

Hermione just stared at him through narrowed eyes.

"Hey," he warned her. "Don't get all upset with me because you're a bad actress."

"You're an idiot," she informed him, when she could speak again.

He grinned and waggled his eyebrows. "That's why I make the big bucks."

She snorted and shook her head, but he could tell she was at least partially amused. He hopped off the counter and grabbed her hand. "Let's go the Leaky for a drink before heading home for dinner."

"That sounds wonderful, Fred. Unfortunately, I have to stop drinking since I'm pregnant."

He gave her a lopsided grin. "You know, luv, it isn't really that funny after I've already figure out that you are joking."

Turning, he tried to pull her toward the door. Hermione, however, refused to budge.

"Fred. I. Am. Pregnant."

He looked into her eyes, as if he was searching for some indication that she was joking. "Impossible," he finally stated, although he did not sound quite as positive as he had earlier.

"Surely not impossible, Frederick. Your father did give you the talk, before we got married, about how little witches and wizards are made, right?"

He ignored her sarcasm in order to present further proof about why he would not believe she was with child. "I know you aren't pregnant, Hermione, because you didn't plan it. There is no way you are going to do something that BIG without making a chart figuring out the perfect timing for such an event."

"I agree that having a chart would have been the ideal way to go about getting pregnant, but such pre-planning isn't always an option. Sometimes one has to settle for post-planning." Hermione reached into her robes and pulled a sheet of parchment that she then laid on the counter.

Fred dropped her hand and reached for the scroll. Straightening it out, he saw that his wife had developed a weekly list of what they needed to accomplish during the next nine months to be prepared when their baby arrived.

He looked into her face, his mouth open slightly in surprise. "You're pregnant?"

She nodded at him, a pleased smile now on her face.

With an exclamation of joy, he gathered her into his arm and spun her around in circles. When he finally set her down, he gave her a deep, wet kiss. "I'm going to be a daddy!"

Squeezing his arm firmly, Hermione leaned into him. "Got you," she grinned.

"What?! You're not pregnant!"

Hermione's grin got even bigger, as she shrugged her shoulders. "You tell me. You are the supposed genius at being able to figure out when someone is pulling a prank on you. Am I acting adorably flustered, yet?"

Fred's eyes darted from her face, to her stomach, to the parchment, then back to her face again. "Bloody hell, Hermione!"

She giggled, kissed him, and then grabbed his hand and began to lead him toward the floo.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. You'll definitely know by the end of nine months whether or not I'm serious."