Author's Note: Okay, yes, I realize I have pretty much been in hibernation since September. I promise I haven't abandoned my love for fanfiction…I was just lacking in ideas! But I have a work in progress—a 6th year fic—that I hope to introduce soon. For the meantime, here's this little one-shot that I thought of many months ago, but never had the urge to write until tonight.

Disclaimer: Psh, I wish.


Ron Weasley stared at the clock with glassy eyes. He was tired; it had been a long day, and all he wanted to do was to go home. Unfortunately, his boss absolutely refused to end the workday before five o'clock. Ron really liked his boss.

He watched as the second hand moved ever so slowly in its circular path. Hurry up, he thought. He gazed down at his desk, resting his eyes on the papers he was supposed to be looking over. Ron tried to read one of them but his attention roamed. His stomach rumbled and he thought longingly of the stew Hermione had promised to make for dinner.

The unmerciful clock told him that he still had one minute and 13—12—seconds until he could disapparate. It was a Friday night and Ron was looking forward to the weekend. There was a Cannons game on Saturday night he was planning to attend, and his mum was throwing a birthday party for his dad on Sunday.

Ron's eyes shifted to the photograph on his desk. A miniature version of himself and Hermione beamed up at him. He smiled at his lovely wife of seven months as she waved and pointed at the papers on his desk, as if to say, "Get back to work!" Naturally, he ignored her.

He looked at the clock again. Yes. Only 17 seconds to go. Ron stood up, shuffled his papers, put them into his briefcase—a gift from Fred and George—and tidied his desk. He leaned against it for several seconds, waiting for the second hand to come full circle, and then disapparated with a pop the moment the clock struck five.

He appeared instantaneously in his kitchen, right in front of the counter. He placed his briefcase upon it and pulled off his tie. He could smell the stew baking already.

"Hermione!" he called. "I'm home!"

He heard her on the stairs, and in a moment she had joined him in the kitchen. "No need to shout, Ron. I knew you were home." She pointed at her watch and Ron shrugged. He knew the hand with his face on it had moved to Home. Hermione had insisted upon getting watches for both Ron and herself; she had been inspired by the clock that belonged to her mother-in-law.

"How was your day?" Hermione asked, taking his tie from him and folding it up carefully.

"Boring. Fudge Junior is just like his father, I'm telling you. I felt like waltzing right out of there and coming to visit you."

Hermione smiled. "You always say that. Today wouldn't have been a good day though; Luna and I were really busy."

"Werewolf draft?" Ron asked.

"Mmhmm. I sent a copy over to Professor Lupin for him to review."

"Well that's good," Ron said absent-mindedly.

"You look really tired, hun," she said concernedly.

"I am," he replied, running a hand through his hair.

"Well, dinner's about ready. Go ahead and sit down."

Ron moved over to the small table, noticing a small stack of mail. He shifted through the letters without interest; most of them were bills that he did not feel like paying.

Soon enough, Hermione had dished him out a large bowl of stew and a small glass of Ogden's Best. He gave her a quick kiss and sat down to eat, Hermione joining him. They talked somewhat about Mr. Weasley's birthday party on Sunday and thought of last-minute gift ideas, none of which were very good.

After the meal, Ron carried the dishes over to the sink and cast a Scourgify spell upon them. He turned around and saw Hermione sitting in her chair, staring at him with her hands between her knees, tapping her foot nervously.

"Are you okay?" Ron asked, frowning.

"Yes, of course. You want to go listen to the WWN?"

"Don't we always?" Ron said, looking slightly puzzled but smiling.

Hermione blushed slightly. Odd, Ron thought. He joined her in the small family room and turned the wireless on. The screechy voice of Rod McLannack suddenly filled the room.

"Turn it down a bit," Hermione ordered. She gathered Crookshanks into her arms and collapsed onto the couch. Ron kicked off his shoes and joined her, draping his arm around her shoulders.

"Pass me a chocolate frog," said Ron lazily.

Hermione smirked at him.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, I shouldn't eat them every night," Ron muttered, rolling his eyes.

Hermione just smiled and handed him a neatly-wrapped frog. Ron hastily pulled off the wrapper and took a large bite off the frog's head. He reached for the card and pulled it closer so he could read it. He figured it would probably be Merlin again, but he always checked anyway.

He frowned when he looked at the card. The picture was not of an aged witch or wizard, but of a small baby.

"Weird," Ron mumbled through the chocolate. "Must be a new one."

His eyes fell upon the caption and immediately his attention was roused. The name underneath the picture read Ronald Bilius Weasley, Junior. Ron stared at it. The explanation that followed was just as boggling: This newest addition to the Weasley clan promises to be both a talented Quidditch player and a brilliant scholar. He will undoubtedly have a love for sweets, books, cats, and the Chudley Cannons. It is also safe to assume that he will hate Bulgarians.

Ron looked up at Hermione in amazement. "What—is this what I—Hermione?"

She smiled a very sly smile and placed a hand upon her stomach. "Did you like that description? I thought of adding,'He will most certainly have red hair,' but I figured that was obvious."

Ron stared at her in shock, mouth hanging open and fingers clutched upon the card. "Are you telling me…that we're going to have a baby?"

Hermione grinned. "Yes, Ron, that's what I'm telling you."

Ron let out a breath and grinned stupidly at the card, running his hand through his hair. "Oh my—I didn't realize—Merlin, Hermione! This is amazing!"

He leapt off the couch and cast the chocolate aside, pacing back and forth like a madman in front of her. "This is just incredible! Are you sure it's a boy? How early can he learn Quidditch? D'you think he'll be a Keeper? No, maybe he'll be a Chaser! But where will he sleep? I guess we'll have to clear out the office…are we old enough to handle this? What if I don't know how to be a dad? I can't change diapers!"

"Ron, Ron, calm down!" Hermione said, laughing. "Yes, I'm certain it's a boy. It'd be a miracle if it wasn't, considering the curse your family has."

"When did you find this out?"

"This morning. I went to St. Mungo's with Ginny."

"What! Ginny knew about this before I did?" Ron ejaculated.

"I wanted to surprise you! Oh, gosh, it was all I could do not to tell you the moment you got home. But I thought this would be a better way!"

"It was clever," Ron said proudly. "That was a wicked good charm you put on the card, Hermione. You had me really confused."

"I know." She smiled.

"But—aren't we a little young for this? I'm only going to be 21 next month!"

"Ron, relax. You will be an amazing father. You've got all those brothers to give you tips! And don't try and tell me that your mother won't be in the middle of it all. She'll probably insist on being in the delivery room."

Ron laughed. "Yeah, very true. But oh gosh Hermione—I can't believe this! I can't wait to tell Harry! And what will we name him? We can't name him after me, I hate my name, we'll need something nicer than that…and we'll have to make sure he has nice things, not a bunch of hand-me-downs from his cousins, I hated that…and maybe Harry can be his godfather! But—oh Merlin, you're brilliant Hermione! Absolutely brilliant!"

He gathered her up into his arms and kissed her all over her face. She beamed.

"Calm down, Ron!" Hermione laughed.

"Calm down? This is one of the most amazing moments of my life! I love you so much, you know that? You are so brilliant, and beautiful, and you're going to be a wonderful mother—"

She cut him off with a kiss. "You, Ron, are brilliant. I've imagined this scene so many times, but I never thought your reaction would be this fantastic."

He sighed and leaned against her forehead. "We're going to be parents, Hermione. Us! Parents! We are going to have a child who is going to be bloody brilliant and absolutely wicked at sports, and he'll have lovely eyes just like you, and probably curly hair, and I'll take him to Cannons games, and you can read him Hogwarts, A History, and then he'll go to school someday…." He trailed off.

"What is it?" Hermione prompted.

"I just…I just realized how important this is. I don't think I've ever been so excited and yet so scared in my life."

Hermione looked at him sympathetically. "Hey, listen. Don't worry. You know what I think our child will be like? He will have a heart of gold, just like yours. He'll be extremely loyal to his friends. He will love his family and do absolutely anything to defend them. You know why?"

"Why?" Ron whispered.

"Because you will teach him all of that, Ron. You'll pass on all the qualities that I love about you, and you'll teach him how to be a loving and courageous person." She paused, and a slow smile spread across her face.

"What?" said Ron.

"Well, I was just hoping he won't inherit your stubbornness."

Ron raised his eyebrows. "My stubbornness? Are you sure that's even a word, Hermione?"

She shrugged. "It is now."

"If our kid is going to be stubborn, it will come from you," he teased.

"Excuse me? Are you not the one who insisted that my cat killed your rat? Who refused to acknowledge why he hated Viktor Krum so much?"

Ron grinned sheepishly. "Okay, you've got a point."

She nodded triumphantly. "Do you even want to know when the baby is due?"

"Oh!" Ron exclaimed. "Yeah! Yeah, when's he due?"

Hermione licked her lips and stifled a smile, as if she was about to reveal a huge joke. "Halloween," she declared finally.

A devilish smirk formed on Ron's face. "Halloween? Isn't that the day we decided that…"

"That Harry was conceived, yes," said Hermione.

Ron snickered. "Blimey, he'll love that. He was oh-so-pleased when we mentioned that to him the first time."

Hermione smiled, remembering one of the trio's jokes from years past. "I guess it's only fitting then that Harry be declared godfather."

"Well…duh," said Ron. "Who else would we pick? Vicky?"

"About that…" Hermione began. "I was thinking—you know, since you don't want to name him after yourself—why don't we name the baby Viktor?"

Ron stared at her. She stared straight-faced back at him, looking right into his eyes.

"You have got to be kidding me," Ron said finally.

Hermione snorted. "Of course I am."


A/N: woohoo, wasn't that a joyride. Hope you all liked it. I'm going to be up into the late hours of the night finishing my homework now. Curse you Jo Rowling!


…and keep an eye out for my upcoming 6th year fic wink