Hermione returned from St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries on a type of high. She was so happy she didn’t quite know what to do. A potion, she thought. Working hard on something always calmed her down. Plus, maybe a Calming Draught would do her some good.
Hermione went to work on the potion brewing just like she had always done at school. Diligently, carefully, measuring everything exactly, double-checking. Ron always told her that she needed to trust herself more. She always knew that she needed to work on that, and she had been doing better lately. But now, she was just too happy to care. She was going to be a mother! She and Ron were going to have a child!
With these happy thoughts, Hermione completed adding all of the ingredients for her Calming Draught, and the only thing left to do was heat up all of the ingredients. She crossed her perfectly white kitchen (thinking all the while about how soon little hands would be in there dirtying it up; strangely this thought pleased her) to the microwave. Much to the rolls of Ron’s eyes, Hermione insisted on having a few muggle appliances in their house. These included a stove, a microwave, air conditioning, and a television.
Hermione put the potion in the microwave and set the timer for ten seconds. Or at least, she thought she did. In actuality, Hermione had accidentally hit the “zero” button a second time, setting the microwave to one minute.
Hermione sat down in her favorite kitchen chair and pondered what was going to happen in only a few short months. She was so delighted about this baby. But what if Ron wasn’t? What if Ron didn’t want a child? The wizarding world was still just healing after all. Voldemort had only been defeated for two years after all, and her and Ron married for only one. Oh god, Ron probably didn’t want a child. Oh my god, Hermione thought. What am I going to do? On the verge of tears, Hermione buried her head in her palms. It was in that cool blackness that Hermione realized that way more than ten second had past since her put the Calming Draught in the microwave.
She got up and rushed over to the microwave, it’s little digital timer still counting down the seconds. Oh my god, she thought again. She pummeled the “open” button on the microwave, and that’s when the potion exploded.
Hermione was blasted backwards off her feet and landed on her bottom several feet back. Gingerly, she got to her feet and looked around at her kitchen, which most definitely was not spotless any more. The blue potion had splattered all over the walls, ceiling, and floor, and was currently flowing down to the floor in rivulets.
With just a sweep of her wand Hermione cleaned the room, but she could not restore her carefully crafted potion. So, she began checking to see if, unlike her potion, she was all right. She went through a mental checklist. No blood, two legs, two feet, two arms, two hands, ten fingers, one nose, two eyes (both working), two working ears, all of my teeth, my hair, I’m good. Then a horrible thought entered Hermione’s head. The baby! What if the baby had been harmed in the explosion? Hermione’s initial reaction was to go back to St. Mungo’s and have them check to see if the baby was all right. Then again, she had just left, not ten minutes ago, with the knowledge of her pregnancy, and did not think it wise to be returning quite so soon to make sure the baby was fine. She was sure it was, don’t mother’s feel when something is wrong with their baby? Yes, they do, decided Hermione, and that was that. Instead of going to St. Mungo’s, she headed upstairs to write a letter to Ron.
Ron,
I’ve got something to tell you. Something big, and important. Big and important news. Don’t worry, it’s good news, at least I think it’s good news. Just, please, be home for dinner tonight. I love you.
Hermione
After re-reading her letter, Hermione decided that it seemed very un-Hermione-ish. But, in her current state of euphoria (for the exploding potion had driven all of her doubts of Ron’s rejection clear out of her head; they were rather silly, really, of course Ron wanted this baby) she couldn’t seem to manage anything more, well, intelligent.
So she sent it with Pig, Ron still kept him around through all the years; Hermione figured that was because Pig reminded him of the good past. Pig was still as small as ever, Hermione wondered if the baby would then like playing with him.
With still several hours before Ron got home, Hermione decided to see if Harry and Ginny were home.
She put some Floo powder in the fireplace, and attempted to call out there address, but nothing came out of her mouth. She tried once more. Still nothing. Panicking, Hermione stepped out of the fireplace and ran upstairs to her bathroom. Facing the mirror, she tried once again to talk, but no sound came out. The mirror did confirm, however, that Hermione was indeed moving her lips.
Oh my god, she thought once more.
Slowly, Hermione slid down the side of her bathtub to the floor. She placed her head in her hands again, and tried to think in the quiet darkness. I can’t talk, so I’ve lost my voice. What did mum always do when I lost my voice as a child? Hermione just thought for a while, until her memories salvaged her. Tea! I’ll go make some chamomile tea.
Determined to get her voice back before Ron came home, Hermione made a boiling hot cup of tea. Ouch! she thought, as she could not scream it out loud.
One singed tongue later, Hermione decided to try talking again. No good. She still had no voice. If she could of, Hermione could have scream out loud in frustration. She already told Ron that she had something big, something important to tell him. It wasn’t only that, she wanted to tell Ron. She was so excited about this baby, she needed to tell someone. Silent tears began to roll down Hermione’s face. When the tears had exhausted themselves, Hermione glanced at her watch. Only half and hour until Ron was due home for dinner. She dragged her sullen feet upstairs to get ready. Upon entering her room, she was greeted with Pig flying right into her. Apparently Ron had received her letter. Grabbing Pigwideon out of mid-air, Hermione stuffed him back in his cage, ignoring his hoots of protest. She was surprised to see a letter sitting on her desk.
Hermione,
I got your letter. I promise to be home on time, I’ll even come home a little early! Can’t wait to see you. I love you too.
Ron
Despite her recent depression, Hermione smiled a little. She loved Ron’s notes to her. Suddenly, it hit her. That’s how she would tell TonCrap, she thought. He’s going to be home early! Hermione rushed to get ready. She magically cooked the food, threw on some nice clothes, and only went for basic hair and makeup. She barely had enough time to stand up straight when she heard Ron’s voice calling from downstairs.
“Hermione! I’m home!” Then his tone of voice settled. “Mmmm, something smells good.”
Hermione could practically see Ron rubbing his hands together and smiling. Thinking that made her smile too, and she grabbed a pad of paper and a pen off her nightstand before heading downstairs.
“There you are,” said Ron as Hermione entered the dining room. “Have a good day?” he asked, giving Hermione a quick kiss on the lips.
Hermione nodded.
The sat down at the little two person table. Ron always called it “The Romance Table.”
“Ah,” he said, “I see that we’re using the Romance Table tonight.”
Hermione only smiled a little smile.
“I know that smile,” teased Ron.
Hermione just sat down and gestured to the food.
Unable to quell his appetite any longer, Ron sat down and greedily began eating Hermione’s thirty-second-dinner. “This is good, Hermione,” she said, only his mouth was full of food as he said it, so it came out more like, “Fis iv food, Fermiofe.”
If she could of, Hermione would have laughed. As it was, she could only smile.
“Okay,” Ron said, putting down his fork. “What’s wrong with you, Hermione? Why aren’t you talking to me? Didn’t you have something to tell me?”
Hermione nodded.
“What is it?”
Hermione began scribbling on the paper she grabbed and showed the scribbled sentence to Ron.
“‘I can’t talk,’” he read aloud.
Hermione nodded.
“Doesn’t your mum always tell us to drink tea when that happens?”
Hermione nodded, and then began writing again.
“‘I’ve tried that already.’ Oh. Well did you do any spells today?”
Hermione sprung up from her chair and gave Ron a big kiss.
“As much as I liked that, Hermione, why did you just do that?”
Hermione began scribbling.
“‘Because, Ron, you’re a genius!’ Well, I can’t argue with that.”
Hermione rolled her eyes and ran into the kitchen.
Ron followed. “Hermione, what in the world are you doing?” asked a baffled Ron, as he watched Hermione run around the kitchen, grabbing various items, and then throwing them all into a cauldron.
Hermione showed Ron a piece of parchment headed Antidote.
“Okay, what are you making an antidote for?”
Hermione pointed at her throat.
“You have a sore throat?”
Hermione shook her head and opened her mouth wide.
“Er...”
Hermione mimed something coming out of her mouth.
“You feel like you’re going to throw up?”
In response, Hermione just smacked her forehead.
“You have a fever? No. A headache? Come on, Hermione.”
Hermione had gone to ignoring Ron’s attempt at guessing something she’d already explained to him. Finally, her potion began glowing pink. Hermione scooped up a bit in a glass and raised it, as if toasting.
“You want to give a toast?”
Hermione shook her head and drank the potion. She shuddered, and then opened her mouth to see if she could talk once more. “I love you, Ron.” Hermione clamped a hand over her mouth. “I can talk again!”
“Yay, no more guessing games!” Ron celebrated.
Hermione laughed and tan to hug Ron. “I’m just glad I can talk again.”
“So, what’s that news you wrote to me about?” asked Ron.
“We’re going to have a baby!” Hermione squealed delightedly.
“What?” repeated Ron, although he was beaming.
“I’m pregnant!”
“Hermione!” Ron picked up his wife and spun her around. “I can’t believe it!” He gave her another kiss.
“So, you’re happy about it?”
“Completely."
Ron, I've Got Something To Tell You, But I Can't Say It by MrsRuebeusHagridDursley
Chapter Notes: I would like to thank Gin_Drinka for giving me this prompt, Jo for letting us control her characters for a brief while, and the musical Legally Blonde for giving the inspiration to have Hermione say (or rather, think) "Oh my god" so many times.
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