I stare down at the plastic stick in my hands. Two minutes suddenly feels a lot longer than usual. Biting my lip, I look up at the mirror. My face is pale, my hair disheveled. I look like I haven't slept in days, and unfortunately that is the case.

I put down the stick as if it has burned me, resting it on the ledge of the sink. My eyes dart toward the bathroom door, unconsciously moving my thumb to my mouth so I can bite my nail. After a moment I realize what I'm doing and quickly stop, dropping the hand to hold my neck, my other arm wrapped around my waist.

My eyes glance back at the stick and I reach out for it slowly as if it were a wild animal. I suck in a deep breath and hold it up to my face so I can see the results.

Two pink lines.

I'm pregnant.

~Four months ago~

"Ron? I'm home!" I call out as I step through the door to our flat. I let out a soft sigh of relief upon kicking off my heels, wiggling my toes to get the feeling back in them. "Ron? Where are you?"

I move through the flat, depositing my keys in the bowl on the kitchen counter and draping my cloak over a kitchen chair. I flip on the light in the living room as I glide through, looking for any signs of my fiancé.

The door to our bedroom is cracked and I push it open only to find the same emptiness I've experienced with the rest of the flat. Frowning, I undo the buttons of my blouse, letting the fabric fall to the floor, soon followed by a trail of the rest of my clothes as I move toward the bathroom. I set my wand on the sink as I turn toward the tub and adjust the tap so hot water begins to flow. As the bath fills, I turn my attention to the mirror, finally pulling the pins out of my tight bun. I smile as I massage my scalp.

I notice the tub is full behind me and quickly turn to set off the water before it overflows. I climb into the water, sighing contently as the heat relaxes my muscles. A hot bath is just what I needed to relax after the work week.

"Hermione?"

I smile at the sound of Ron's voice. "I'm in the bath, Ron!" I call back.

A moment later he appears in the bathroom door, leaning against the frame. His Qudditch robes are caked in dirt and sweat, but thankfully he must have taken his boots off at the door because I notice no mud tracks behind him.

"How was the game?" I ask as I work my shampoo into my hair.

He shrugs in response and moves to start taking off his gear. "It was all right, I suppose. Jackson got hit with a Bludger about ten minutes in, so being down a Chaser fucked us over for a bit. Kelley caught the Snitch after an hour give or take, but we barely scraped by with the win."

"At least you won! You guys are one step closer to the World Cup now!"

Ron smirks and pulls his robes over his head. "Yeah, but Jackson might be out for the rest of the season. The Bludger got him right in the side of his face. The bloke at St. Mungo's said he's sure he'll make a full recovery, but it might take a while, even with magic. The rest of the team and I are going to need to find a substitute for our next game, if not the whole season."

"Oh, Ron, I'm sorry. What about Brett? I thought you guys kept him around in case of things like this."

Ron sighs and comes to kneel beside me, his hand playing with the water of my bath. "Brett took a position with the Holyhead Harpies last month. I must have forgotten to tell you. We'll just have to find someone better by this time next week."

His hand slowly dips under the water to stroke my arm and I giggle before pushing him away. "Oh no, you don't. You know the rule, Ronald Weasley. I am not sharing a bath with you right after any sort of game or practice. The water would be filthy!"

"You're no fun," he teases with a smile. "Well hurry up and get cleaned up so I can shower, then."

I roll my eyes but quicken my pace, rising the shampoo from my hair and even skipping shaving so Ron can clean himself up before he stinks up any more rooms in the flat. I accept the towel he hands me when I exit the tub and move off to the side so I can dry off while he showers.

"Oh, I completely forgot to ask you about your day," he says when he pulls the curtain around him. "How's the case coming along?"

"Very well, actually," I say, my voice raised slightly so he can hear me over the sound of the water. "We found some new evidence that should put the defendant away for quite a while, thanks to Harry."

"Yeah? What'd he find?"

"You know I can't share details until the case is closed, Ron."

He laughs. "Okay, fine, fine. How about the one with involving the Muggle shopping center? That one's closed, right?"

"Yes; that defendant was found guilty of assault and endangering the secrecy of magic. The Wizengamot sentenced him to one year in Azkaban, followed by community service upon his release."

Ron shut off the water and let out a low whistle. "Poor bastard. At least Dementors aren't in charge of the prison anymore. Still not a cheery place to be, though. Honestly, there is no way I could do your job, Hermione. A prosecutor for the Wizengamot and the Ministry? No, thank you." He steps out of the shower and wraps a towel around his waist as he moves to the mirror to start shaving.

"Well, the same goes for me and your job," I laugh. "You saw me my first- and only! - time on a broom; I nearly pissed myself! Besides, I hopefully won't have this position for much longer. The Senior Secretary to the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot is retiring at the end of the month, and I have it on good authority that my name is being tossed around for the promotion!"

"You're joking!"

"No!"

Ron's face breaks out into a grin and he hugs me. "That is great news, Hermione! You'll be Chief Warlock- no, Witch! -of the Wizengamot before you know it!"

~Two months later~

I stumble through the door to the flat and kick off my heels. "Ron?" I hear a muffled response come from our bedroom and slowly begin making my way there, but not before noticing the mess in the kitchen and the living room. I narrow my eyes as I deposit my keys and cloak before making my way to the bedroom.

Ron is laying under the covers of the bed surrounded by all the junk food we own.

"What the hell, Ron?!" I yell.

He looks at the mess around him before shrugging. "You weren't home and I was hungry and tired from the game. What was I supposed to do? Wait?"

"No, but you could have at least eaten in the kitchen! Our bed is covered in crumbs and I just washed the sheets!"

"So? You can wash them again tomorrow."

"What? No, no I cannot! Ron, you know I work Saturdays now because of the-"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. Because of your promotion."

I blink at his tone and move my weight to one side as I cross my arms against my chest. "Excuse me? What is with you tonight?"

"What is with me? What is with you? All you ever talk about is your bloody promotion and I'm sick of it!"

My jaw drops. "You cannot be serious right now, Ronald Weasley! You were the one telling everyone after I mentioned that my name was being tossed around! I didn't even have the job yet and you were bragging about me to all your teammates, your family, and our friends! And now you are accusing me of only talking about my promotion? You were so happy for me a month ago when I was offered the position!"

"Well that was before I realized how much time of yours this bloody job was going to eat up! You couldn't go to the majority of my games when you were just a prosecutor, but now you can't go to any! Not to mention you are never home when I get back! We don't talk anymore, Hermione!"

"We don't talk? Ron, all I've wanted to do is talk to you, but everyday I've gotten home the past few weeks, you have either been passed out or only interested in shagging!"

"Well at least one of us was interested in our relationship!"

"Have you been drinking? What is with you tonight?" I hiss as I stalk pass him to the bathroom, slamming the door behind me. I notice the empty beer bottles in the trash and sneer when I see them. Ron always has been a pissy drunk.

Ever since my promotion Ron had been distant and perhaps even a little bitter. The Chudley Cannons lost their first match without Jackson after only finding a mediocre replacement, successfully ruining their chances of going to the World Cup. While my career was zooming off in the right direction, his was stagnant.

I pull off my work clothes and step into the shower, hoping the water will wash away my frustration with Ron. He can't keep taking his anger out on me. I won't stand for it. I am not some newbie on his team that he can boss around when he doesn't get his way.

I shut off the water and dry off as I move to the closet connected to the bathroom. The longer I stay away from Ron, the sooner I'll stop being so angry. I pull some pajamas out of my dresser at random and get dressed, tossing the towel into the hamper on my way out. Upon reentering the bedroom, I find the bed still covered in food, but no Ron in sight.

"Ron?"

I frown when I don't get an answer and leave the bedroom. My eyes flicker over the flat, noting exactly every mess he has left in his wake, but still not finding him. The prat must have walked out to avoid the rest of our argument. Fine, I can live with that.

I return to the bedroom and clean the bed with a wave of my wand, deciding that Ron can clean the rest of the flat whenever he gets back from some late night pitying drinking. He is really going to need to stop that once we're married. I climb into bed and adjust the sheets before using my wand to turn out the light and rolling onto my side and shutting my eyes.

My eyes flutter open at the sound of my alarm and I yawn, stretching my limbs. I pat the mattress next to me and sit up completely when I find it empty. Strange. Ron always crawls back into bed with me, no matter what kind of fight we've had. I push back the covers and swing my legs out of the bed, grabbing my robe from the chair by the windowsill. I tie the sash around my waist as I call out for Ron.

I walk toward the living room and find it in the exact same state it was last night when I went to bed, and Ron is not sleeping on the couch, or at the kitchen table. Nor are his shoes by the door or his keys on the counter.

I return to my bedroom and throw on a pair of slacks and a sweater. As I brush my teeth I keep listening for the door to open and Ron to come stumbling in with a painful hangover. So far, nothing.

I pull my hair back into a ponytail as I walk determinedly to the living room and throw some Floo powder into the fireplace and call out Harry's name.

After a moment, his face appears in the green flames.

"Hermione, I'd like to preface this by saying that I love you, but I absolutely loathe your sense of timing. It is far too early for any sort of interaction with the outside world, not to mention that today is my one day off and Ginny and I-"

"I am going to cut you off right there, Harry," I say with a smile. "I do not need to know what you and Ginny had planned for today."

He rolls his eyes and smirks. "Wow, Hermione, always thinking the worst of us. Well come on then, out with it. What could you possibly need so early in the morning?"

"Ron and I had a domestic last night and he must have stormed out while I was in the shower. Did he happen to swing by your place? He's not home yet."

"I haven't seen him. Hey Ginny!" Harry's face disappears as he leans back to call for his wife. "Gin! Have you seen or heard from Ron today?"

There is a pause and I can faintly hear Ginny's voice, but I can't quite make out what she's saying.

"Hermione said they had a domestic and he went out last night; he's not home yet!"

Another pause.

Harry's face reappears in the fire. "Ginny hasn't heard from him, but she says she's willing to hex him because she assumes he's at fault."

I laugh. "No, the fault is probably equal between the two of us. He was drinking and I think he's still jealous about my promotion. Ever since the Cannons lost that match against the Falcons he's been a right prick, but I've been stressed with the new job and all that, so I probably haven't been the most supportive fiancé."

Harry snorts. "Ron can get off his high horse. These issues started with his team losing, not necessarily you getting that promotion. Who'd they get to replace Jackson, again?"

I shrug. "I think some girl from the Wasps. I want to say her name is Sarah or something to that effect."

Harry's face vanishes again. "Oi, Gin! Which player left the Wasps to play for the Cannons? Sarah Fisherman, right?"

Ginny's voice sounds much closer when she replies. "Yeah, that's her. Pretty stupid move if you ask me. She's really not that great of a Chaser and the Wasps have a much better record than the Cannons, even when they had Jackson; she really downgraded when she accepted that position."

"Makes you wonder why she did it then, doesn't it? Suppose she fancies Kelley? His girlfriend did just dump him," Harry says.

"Risking your career for one bloody Seeker? Hardly worth it if you ask me," Ginny scoffs. Her face suddenly appears in the fire and she smiles at me. "I'll let you know if I see my brother any time soon, Hermione. Now, off you get- you've got to go to work and I've got the whole rest of the day with my wonderful husband."

"Just keep the details to yourself, please," I laugh. "See you two later!"

AN: The title of this story comes from Kelly Clarkson's song "Beautiful Disaster"