A/N: Almost one full year later….I wrote something. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Hermione stormed into her bedroom, slamming the door open in the process. Her husband followed her, loosening his tie as he attempted to reason with her.

"Come on love, did you really expect me to enjoy myself? You know I hate these things."

Hermione dropped her purse on the bed. She shut her eyes and took a deep breath in a fruitless attempt to control her anger. This was not how she had wanted the night to go. She had the whole night planned in her head, down to every last detail. It was going to be perfect, but instead her "loving" husband had spent the last four hours trying his hardest to ruin it. The thought of this broke her resolve to keep her cool, and she rounded on her husband.

"Ronald. Bilius. Weasley. While I understand that dances, or social interaction of any type for that matter, are not your forte, this night was supposed to be a celebration for your sister and our best friend! All of our friends and family were there! It seems to me that you could at least attempt to be a pleasant human being for once in your life!"

"Why were they even having a party? It's their second child she's pregnant with; it's not like it's anything new!"

This was the last straw. The next time she spoke, she was nearly screaming.

"You are the most insensitive man I have ever had the misfortune of interacting with! A child is a gift, Ron! What is so terrible about them wanting to celebrate the fact that they're going to be bringing another life into this world?" She could feel her eyes stinging, so she turned her back on him again. Breaking down in tears would probably reduce the effect of the fierce arguing she was known for.

Unfortunately, he knew her far too well. His hand was on her shoulder less than a second after she stopped speaking.

"What's wrong, dear? It's clear my lack of dancing skill isn't all that's agitating you."

She still refused to look at him. Avoiding his eyes, she walked into the master bathroom and began to take the multiple bobby pins out of her hair, which she had pinned back for the occasion. "You're right, it's not that. It's the fact that you continuously avoiding conversation with everyone, including me. Oh, pardon me, you talked to Seamus because he was acting as barman!"

"Hermione, you know I hate these…events. And work was stressful this week, I didn't particularly want to talk to everyone today. All I wanted to do this weekend was unwind at home with my beautiful wife!" He moved into the doorway of the bathroom as he spoke, leaning one arm against the door frame.

"Flattery won't get you anywhere," she muttered as she carefully removed her earrings, her eyes still fixed straight ahead. "You know, you could have at least stayed by me and just smiled at everyone or something!"

"Is that what this is about? If you wanted me to spend more time with you tonight, you could have just said so, Hermione," Ron said exasperatedly, gazing at his wife almost pleadingly. He had been hoping to end the night peacefully in bed with the love of his life, not arguing with her over trivial things.

"That's not what this is about. Not really, anyways." Hermione put both her hands on the countertop, bowing her head down and taking another deep breath. "I'm not really angry, Ron," she said in a low voice, "I'm…upset." She finally raised her head and met his eyes. He could see she really was hurt, and he tentatively moved towards her.

"I can't fix it if I don't know what's wrong, love," he said gently, "please tell me what I did."

"I…" she walked out of the bathroom now and began to change out of her party dress. Ron watched her; although he was concerned that he had upset her, he couldn't help but appreciate his wife's petite, soft body. She caught him staring, and glared in return. He quickly turned his back and began to undress himself, changing into pajamas. Hermione was still silent, but he knew better than to pressure her for an explanation. Once he had his pajamas on, he turned around to find her sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at him earnestly.

"Ron, why aren't you excited for Harry and Ginny?"

He sat down next to her gingerly. "You know I'm happy for them. I just didn't really see the need for a party in order to celebrate that happiness."

She sighed for what must have been the thirty-seven thousandth time that night. "A baby is a big deal, Ron."

"I know…" he said cautiously. He wasn't quite sure where she was going with this conversation.

"I mean, I'd say it's a legitimate reason for celebration. And they being the parents, I think they should be allowed to celebrate as they wish."

"Hermione," Ron said firmly, placing a hand on her shoulder again and rubbing gently, "Will you please tell me what this is really about?"

Hermione twisted her hand up to rest on his as she met his eyes. She was grateful that their row had ended; one advantage of being married and living together was that they had learned to calm down much more quickly. "I was going to tell you something tonight, and I want you to be excited about it. I guess that your behavior tonight just worried me."

Ron's hand stilled, and his heart leaped as he realized slowly what she was getting at. "Hermione…are you saying…?" He hardly dared to hope that it was true.

"I'm pregnant, Ron. I was going to tell you earlier, but I wanted to be sure before I told you about it. I only took about five tests before I finally believed it—"

"Hermione." Ron came out of the brief state of shock he had been in, a smile spreading across his lips. "How the hell could you think I wouldn't be excited about this? You're…you're pregnant?" He touched her stomach gently.

"Yes." She was tearing up quickly, but her smile was just as wide as Ron's. "Yes I am. We're going to be parents, Ron!"

"Yeah," he said, slightly dazed. "Yes, I suppose we are."

The next thing Hermione knew, his lips were on hers. She reveled in the familiar feeling of his kiss, but she couldn't help but notice a new feeling in it. It took her a moment before she realized it was joy, more joy than they had ever felt before. She could feel him smiling against her mouth as she moved her fingers into the flaming red hair she loved so much. He pulled away from her mouth and began kissing every inch of her face and neck as she giggled somewhat uncharacteristically. He continued down and back up her arm, then her shoulders and chest, leaving feather light kisses as he went. Finally, he lifted her tank top and kissed her stomach soundly before grabbing her waist, bringing her down on top of him as he lay down on the bed.

She smiled, touching her nose to his. "I'm sorry I was cross with you, Ron."

"S'okay. Harry said Ginny was moody when she was pregnant with James, too."

Hermione hit his chest lightly, unable to be truly angry with him in such a happy moment. "Just don't tell me that I'm being moody and we'll be okay. Deal?"

Ron kissed her again in response. "You're having our baby, love. You're allowed to do whatever the hell you want for the next nine months."

"I'm going to hold you to that," she said, smiling cheekily.

"You're beautiful," he said, pulling her closer to him and inhaling her scent.

"I love you," she murmured before capturing his lips once again.

"Lmootu," he mumbled in response as they fell together into a world of happiness that was entirely their own.

A/N: Well, I'm rusty and out of practice, so it's not bad for my first attempt at fanfiction since last June. Leave a review if you'd like, I'd appreciate some feedback. Thanks