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Hello..I know it has been forever, I really do. I've had horrible writer's block, like the worst I've ever had. Also, since the last time I updated in April, I've had school finals, summer school, a church retreat, and horrible Post-Potter Depression since the final movie just came out. But it also made me want to write more, yet I had no idea what to write. Hold fast though, me friends! I have some great ideas for this story that just popped in my head recently. You guys are great, you really are – I'm very sorry it has taken me so long to write this.

P.S. Sorry to bring up Harry Potter being over…Yet, since we all love them so much and will remember them forever and ever, it isn't really over. (My only comforting thought while I'm crying all the time at the littlest thought of Harry Potter. )

Disclaimer: Honestly, if I was JK Rowling, I would have 1000x better writing skill

Chapter 13:(My favorite number is 13; hopefully that indicates this will be a good chapter )

The next morning, I was awakened by the morning sun beaming through the white lace curtains of our bedroom. I smile when I see a freckled, muscular arm draped over my swollen stomach. I intertwine my fingers with Ron's and he just stirs, squeezing my fingers in his sleep.

Suddenly, I feel the fluttering in my belly again.

"Ron," I say urgently, trying to wake Ron up. "Ron, wake up." I nudge his shoulder.

"Mmmh…'Mione, no." He grumbles, flipping his head so he's facing me. I see his bright blue eyes flutter for a moment before closing again.

"Ronald, wake up!" I playfully slap his back.

"What, Hermione?" He asks groggily.

"Wake up! The baby is kicking!" I proclaim, swatting at his shoulder again.

"Really?" Ron asks, grinning.

"Yes!" Ron sits up straight, staring at my stomach as if it's occupied by an alien. "Here, maybe the baby will kick again." I tell Ron as I grab Ron's hand. I lift my shirt and place Ron and I's intertwined hands on my belly.

"I don't feel anything," Ron says disappointedly. "Maybe it wasn't the baby, maybe you're just –"

Ron is soon cut off when the baby kicks fiercely again. Ron sucks in a sharp breath.

"That's wicked!"He says, this time staring at my belly with love.

"It is, isn't it," I chuckle.

We sit there, in our warm bed for about an hour or so, just talking. Once the baby stops kicking, we slide back under the covers and lay with our legs intertwined. I look into Ron's shining eyes.

"I hope the baby has your eyes," I say and run my fingers through my husband's hair. "And your hair."

Ron grabs my hand out of his hair. "She'd be more beautiful if she looked like you."

I grin when Ron leans forward and kisses my temple. "Wait, 'she'? You think the baby is a girl?" I ask curiously.

Ron's ears redden. "Well, while I was gone, I kept having dreams of you holding a baby girl."

"Really?" I ask.

"Yup," Ron says in his extremely Ron-like way; magically making a serious moment funny. I giggle and Ron grins and sits up. "Do you want any breakfast? I'm gonna make some."

"Sure," I agree and start to laugh when Ron prances out of the bedroom acting like a ballerina.

"Au revoir mon mari." I cheekily speak in French. Once he twirls his way out of the room, I put on some warmer clothing and head downstairs, too.

I walk barefoot into the kitchen and stand next to Ron, watching him crack eggs the Muggle way.

He smiles one of his famous crooked smiles and says: "Bonjour mon amour."

I wrap my arms around and clasp my hands at his hip. "Pourquoi parlons-nous en franc'ais?"

"Je ne sais pas." He replies and ruffles my hair.

"Good thing we are all fluent in French, or else we wouldn't know what Fleur is talking about half the time." I say and help him crack an egg.

"Indeed," He agrees jokingly. "The summer before the wedding was hell though; not just because of the war, but because Mum was so adamant about us learning French."

"Yeah, that was rather hectic." I say as I reach for some flour for breakfast, figuring Ron's making pie. After all, that's pretty much all he knows how to make.

"Hey! I'm making the pie not you! Stop helping me!" He proclaims childishly.

"I'm just grabbing the flour! Geesh," I joke back and open the sack of flour.

Ron reaches over and flicks some flour in my face. "Thank you but get out."

I look up through the flour on my eyelashes and the rest of my face, and see Ron trying to hold in a laugh. "You're in for it." I say icily. I grab a fistful of flour and throw it in Ron's face. I start running away with the bag in my arms, but Ron circles an arm around my chest and pulls me back.

"Oh, no you don't. Get back here." Ron says, grabs a huge fistful of flour out of the sack in my arms and throws it in my hair. I squirm out of Ron's grip and turn on him.

"Ronald Weasley! Not in my hair, that'll take forever to get out!" I yell at him, trying to keep a straight face.

"I know!" He says and laughs mischievously. And I throw more flour at him, most just ending up on the slippery wood floor. Ron starts to run at me, but I slip under his arms, set the sack on the counter, and grab the bowl of egg yolks. I lift the bowl up and glare at him threateningly.

"You wouldn't dare," Ron says with a worried look on his face.

"Oh yes I would!"

Ron tries to run at me again to try to grab the bowl, but instead slips on all the flour and lands on his stomach. I laugh hysterically, as Ron looks up at me with pleading eyes.

"No puppy-dog eyes!" I warn him, Ron now only looking at the threatening bowl of egg yolks. I laugh again and dump it on his head. Ron's face was priceless. "Look who's gonna be washing their hair for a long time too, now!" I laugh even more hysterically.

Ron grabs onto my ankle and drags my foot out so that I start sliding down the side of the counter. "You better stop making fun of me." He says, leaning up on his hands so his face is even with mine.

I wipe some yolk off of his bangs. "Or what?" I ask, feeling the tension.

"Or I'll…" He starts but finishes by kissing me.

"What a bad punishment." I say against his lips, my arms habitually slide around his neck. I feel him laugh against my mouth.

After a few minutes, Ron pulls his legs up so that he is sitting across from me, never breaking contact with my mouth. Soon, I feel him place his hands on my hips and slowly pull me closer. I thread my fingers in his hair and groan into his mouth. He slides me onto his lap, and I circle my legs around his waist. I feel him slide his arms under my bum, and soon he's standing. He sets me on the counter and continues to kiss me passionately. I slide my hands down his chest and rest my hands on what he calls his "Auror-Abs", and Ron runs his hands down my legs.

We continue to kiss for what seems to be forever before I feel flour being dumped on my head. I break contact with Ron and start to glare at him, thinking Ron was avenging his yolk-soaked hair. But, out of the corner of my eye, I see Ginny with her wand out and pointed towards the bag. I feel my face burn red.

"How many times is this going to happen?" Ginny asks, punctuating each word. Ron jumps when he hears Ginny's voice. I slide off the counter and adjust my rumpled clothing.

"As I've said many times before, Gin, you have no room to talk." I say, crossing my arms across my chest and popping my hip to the side, copying Ginny's stance. Ron stands next to me and rests his arm on my shoulder.

"Yeah," He says sassily.

Ginny starts laughing at our stance and puts her hands up in surrender. "Alright, alright; I got it."

Ron binds down and picks up the bowl off the floor and throws it into the sink. "Not to sound rude or anything, but what are you doing here?"

"Simmer down, Won-Won." Ginny continues threateningly.

"Excuse me?" I half-seriously interrupt. "We don't use that name in our house." I hear Ron chuckle behind me as he wraps his arms around my waist.

Ginny laughs. "Mum wants a semi-monthly Weasley dinner tonight at home." Ginny informs, twirling her wand in her fingers. "So…clean yourselves up." And with a pop she was gone.

I stood there, pulled out my wand, and cleaned the kitchen with a single wave.

"I'm taking a shower," I say to Ron, walking to the bathroom. As I assumed he would, I soon heard Ron run up behind me, grab me, and carry me to the bathroom.

"The shower is a two person shower, you know," Ron smirked. I just kiss him in response.

~"~"~"~"~"~"~"~"

"Hermione," Ron yelled to me from downstairs. "Hurry up! We're almost late!"

"Ron, hold on! I'm trying to find a shirt I fit in!" I reply, digging through drawers trying to find something my swollen belly fits into. I need to go shopping, I thought to myself.

"Hermione, just wear your blue blouse," Ron says from the doorway.

"I don't fit in it, Ron! My stomach and my boobs are too big," I yell at him, blowing my crazy hair away from my face.

"I'm sure there's something you can wear," He says calmly. "Wear that fluffy white dress you have." I suddenly stand up straight.

"The babydoll-cut dress? Oh, yeah," I agree, running into the closet. "This should fit." I slide the dress over my semi-bare body. "Can you zip it for me?" I ask Ron, quickly throwing my hair up into a bun.

"Yeah," Ron says and zips it up without a problem. "Told you it would fit!"

"Yeah," I agree, turning around and clasping my hands behind his neck. "You were right and I was wrong."

"My shining moment," He says jokingly, placing his hands on my waist. "I've always wanted to hear you say that." I chuckle and kiss him quickly.

"Whatever," I say, grabbing my purse and Ron's hand. "Now, let's go!" I hear Ron laugh when I start dragging him to the fireplace.

"You hate being late don't you?"

"Yes, I hate it," I say sternly. "Now get in the fireplace! Come on!" I grab a fistful of Floo Powder. Ron steps in and grabs my hand. "The Burrow." I say, and I soon find us in the living room of the Burrow.

"Ah, there you two are!" Ginny exclaims from the couch where she is watching Harry play with James. "Mum, they're here." Ginny says while walking into the full kitchen.

"Say hello to Ron and Hermione," Harry tells James. James waves his cute, pudgy hand at us. "He just learned it." Harry beams.

"He's adorable, Harry." I say to the proud father.

"Yeah, you did a good job," Ron says, wrinkling his brow. "Even if it was with my baby sister." I hear Harry sigh as he walks into the kitchen.

"Come on, Ronald," I say, pulling Ron into the kitchen behind me.

"Hey, Ron and Hermione; where have you…" Angelina cuts off. "George control your child," Angelina warns her husband, rolling her eyes.

"She's your kid too, Ange," George retorts, pulling Roxanne off of the table and onto his lap. "Ron, get ready. Once the baby comes…" George sighs. "You don't even want to know."

"Hey," Angelina retorts, swatting George's arm. "Don't scare them. It's really not that bad." She defends, looking at me and Ron.

George murmurs: "Yes it is."

"Are you trying to make me mad?" Angelina asks, looking rather fierce.

"Let's go sit down," Ron suggests, guiding me to a space next to Fleur and Bill.

"Hey, Ron and Hermione," Bill greets us, clapping Ron on the back.

"Dinner is ready," Mrs. Weasley yells over the loud kitchen. Bowls, platters, and plates fly through the air and land perfectly on the table.

"Looks great, Mum," Ron says from beside me.

"Thank you, deary," Mrs. Weasley kisses the top of Ron's head and sits down next to Mr. Weasley. "Dig in!"

Once you attend a few semi-monthly Weasley dinners, you learn to watch out when it comes to Weasleys' eating. Hands immediately go to the center of the table grabbing food from all angles. Fleur, Percy's wife Audrey, Angelina, Harry and I look at each other, sitting back and waiting until things calm down before getting food.

Suddenly, Ron wraps his arm around me and kisses the side of my head.

"I love you," He whispers into my ear.

"Je t'aime trop," I reply in French, closing my eyes and savoring this beautiful, random moment of my amazing life.

There you go, guys! I like this chapter! I'll be updating a lot more since I have a lot more free time!

Love you, guys! PS, If you don't know what they're saying in French, use Google Translate

~R