Hermione sat on the couch; her feet curled up near her chest and her head on Ron’s shoulder. Her hand was on her swelled stomach, waiting patiently for a kick or shift from the baby. Her brown hair was rather curly from being lazily taken out of a bun after she got home from work. She was eating a bowl of popcorn and mustard. Ron was completely enveloped in a horror film and hardly acknowledged Hermione leaning on him, except when it got to a particularly scary part of the movie he would scoot closer to her.
Okay, so he helped kill Voldemort but he can’t watch a horror film without hiding behind his wife… She watched as he oh-so-attractively yelped and leaned closer to her. It makes me wonder what he would do if someone walked in right now. He’d probably say ‘Take her; she taste better.’
Hermione filled her mouth with popcorn and waterfalled mustard into her mouth. Mmmmmmm... But I’m still hungry… crap…
“Ron,” Hermione said. Ron continued to stare at the 4-D wizarding television.
“Wha- oh… Hey Hermione!” He exclaimed happily, as if she just popped up there unexpectedly.
“Think you can handle being alone for a few minutes while I grab a snack?”
“Are you kidding me? Of course I can. I mean I am The Ron Weasley! The one who helped defeat Horcruxes, bringing Voldemort to his DOOM!!!!!!!!!! Of course I can handle watching a stupid horror film alo- OH MERLIN HERMIONE!!!!!!!!!!! DID YOU SEE THAT WEIRD SHAPE FLY ACROSS THE ROOM!!!!??????” He screamed, jumping up from the couch.
“Yes, Ron, I saw Pig fly to his food bowl,” Hermione said calmly.
“Oh, uh-yea,” Ron said quietly, his ears red. “I-uh knew that was Pig…”
“Yes, of course, Ron,” Hermione said with a smile. “Whatever stops the tears,” She added under her breath.
“I heard that!” Ron exclaimed. “Remember, I know where you live…”
“So you’re a stocker now?” Hermione asked.
“Always have been, always will.”
Ron walked over to Hermione and kissed her lips. She kissed him back.
“I may be a stocker, but I’m still a pretty impressive snogger, right?”
“Most definitely,” Hermione said with a smile and kissed his rough lips again.
It was like plugging a cord into an outlet. There’s a quick little spark that goes up and then flickers out. But ever since their first kiss, the spark between the two had never died. Nor would it burn out anytime soon.
Every touch was fresh and new. Hermione thought it wild how when her lips touched his she acquired a strange newfound energy, like after you drink one of those five hour energy thingies. Ron found it equally exhilarating the way his senses spiked when he saw her approach him.
And so they stood there, hugging and kissing each other like there was no tomorrow.
“Hermione,” Ron mumbled.
“Yea?” Hermione asked, her chocolate eyes meeting his blue ones.
“I love you.”
Hermione’s face went red and she felt warmer. “I thought our wedding vows kinda summed that up.”
“I love you more than my own life.”
Hermione blushed harder. Ron had never said this to Hermione before, even though he thought she knew it. He wanted to make sure that she knew, just to be positive. It was cheesy, he knew that too, but important.
It would be cliché if Hermione just repeated what he said, so instead she kissed him with as much passion as she could. Hermione then started towards the stairs, but turned around in the middle of the hallway.
He looked up at Hermione, his eyes bigger than before. “I love you, too.
“And what you said, it-it meant a lot. And just to let you know, uh-Ditto…”
“Ditto?” Ron asked, confused.
Ditto, Hermione? Really? She thought helplessly. “Yea, uh, that means I love myself more than my own life, too.”
Crap. Did you really just say what I think you said? “No, I didn’t mean it that way,” Hermione insisted with a nervous laugh that could have easily been considered scary. “I meant I love you more than me. Not the other way around.”
“Umm… Okay,” Ron said, apparently have puzzled, half amused.
“What, so you think it’s funny?”
“Maybe a little…”
Hermione smiled to herself. “Goodnight Ron!”
“It’s not that I’m tired,” Lie. “The baby’s tired.” Lie.
Shut up conscience, this isn’t lying; it’s making excuses, duh.
“If you’re tired, just say so.”
Ron was giving her The Look. Ugh, when did his eyes get so big??? He continued to stare at her with shimmering blue eyes, until finally Hermione caved.
“Okay, you got me. I’m tired. Not the baby, me. ME! ME! ME! ME! ME! Please, stop it with you’re eyes! It makes me feel bad!”
How dare he give me The Look! I am carrying his child! He should fear me and my pregnant witchy abilities. Yes, fear me! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Calm down, Hermione. Deep breaths.
You! Are you trying to tell me what to do!? After I get Ron, I’m coming for you, Conscience. Just you wait and see…
“Hermione?” Ron asked.
Hermione abruptly came out of her thoughts, “Oh, yea… Umm, I’ll be in bed if you-uh need me.”
She marched up the stairs, feeling completely idiotic. That, she thought sarcastically, went really well. What do you think conscience?
I think you’re a complete idiot.
Wow, way to state the obvious, captain obvious. That shall be your new name: Captain Obvious. It has a ring to it, doesn’t it?
You’re scaring me.
Like I said before, you should fear me! Mwahahahahahahahahahaha!!!!!
Hermione sighed as she climbed into the bed she shared with Ron.
Poor kid, having to have a wacko like me as a mother.
Hey! I’m not crazy, just special!
Well played. I’ll remember that the next time you’re stuck in the bathroom with no toilet paper.
“Hey, Hermione?” Ron walked through the bedroom door suddenly, causing Hermione to literally fall out of bed.
“Merlin, Ron! Ever heard of knocking?!” Hermione said with an angry snarl.
“Okay, I’ll be going, then,” Ron said hastily and ran out of the room.
“No,” Hermione called gently. “Wait, come back!”
She watched as he slowly backed into the room again. “What did you need?”
Ron shuffled his feet nervously and took a deep breath. “Have you been feeling okay?”
“Yes, I feel just peachy after carrying around a baby for five months,” Hermione said sarcastically. Ron smiled, so she continued, “What else?”
“You’ve been acting rather different lately, that’s all.”
“Ah, I’ve been feeling different lately,” Hermione said to him. “I think it must be the hormones.”
“Hormones?” Ron asked suspiciously. “Is that some type of disease?”
“Not exactly,” Hermione said with a sigh and an eye roll. “Hormones are horrid things pregnant people get that forces you to act different. In my case, rebelling against my overprotective conscience is the way of dealing with the intense mood swings and cravings.” She tried to simplify this so that Ron could understand more clearly.
“Okay…” He said stupidly.
Hermione didn’t catch the uncertainty in his voice so she crawled back into bed. “Are you going to bed yet?”
“Not yet, I have to feed the chickens.”
Hermione climbed under the blankets. “Wait a minute,” She called after Ron. “We don’t have chickens.”
“Good night, Hermione!” Ron called back happily.
“Erm… Good night…”
Well, that was odd.
Want to check it out?
So Self, why do you think he asked me why I was acting differently? That’s not like him.
Wow, for a person as bright as you I thought you would have caught on by now.
What do you mean, Conscience?
You’re scaring him.
Yes! And you’re scaring me, too.
Nobody gives a flying rats crap about you, believe it or not.
Wow, that’s pretty low considering I’m part of you.
Yep, that’s me, Hermione Granger, rambling to herself pointlessly, scaring off her husband, driving away her conscience…
And suddenly, Hermione felt sorry for herself.
Just four more months, she told her conscience, and I swear I’ll be back to normal.