Ron Weasley sometimes wondered how he'd gotten so lucky. He'd lay in bed with his wife, legs tangled together. His hand resting on her ever growing baby bump. Hers holding his lightly, held together over their soon to be child.

Every night Ron watched Hermione undress, marveling at the baby bump that was their child. Every night she caught him watching. "Used to be you watched a different part of me." she whispered, a bit naughtily, as she pulled herself into bed. "You should get undressed first so I can watch you. At least you look the same." Her changing body had been a source of frustation for her, but something he was enthralled with. She wasn't entirely unhappy about that.

He shook his head. "It's one of my favorite parts of the night. And trust me, Hermione, I still see every part." He helped her fluff the pillows just right.

"I still cannot imagine how or why your mother did this so many times." Hermione tried to get comfortable. "Two, Ronald, two, that's my limit. I don't care if they're girls, boys, or one of each, two is the limit." She groaned with the frustration of trying to maneuver herself into a good position. "On the other hand, perhaps just this one, I don't know I can do this again."

"Maybe we should have had them both at once?" Ron not so innocently suggested.

Another groan from Hermione. "If I could've figured out how to do that, we would have." she gave up trying to be comfortable.

Ron settled down next to her. If there was one thing he had learned in the past few months, it was how to make his wife as comfortable as he possibly could, and that usually meant snuggling next to her and holding her close. It wasn't ever a hard ship for him. He liked to know she, and their unborn child, were safe and with him.

He reached his hand out, touching her baby bump. He was rewarded with a small kick. "Kid's got a good aim."

"Kid is up in my rib cage and making my life miserable." Hermione retorted, although without her usual bite. Her hand found his and they held hands together over their child.

"Ah, now, come on. Won't be that much longer and we'll get to hold her for real." Ron was slightly terrified of that, but wouldn't admit it for the world.

"At least a month." she pulled him closer to her. His warmth made her feel more comfortable even with the baby making its presence very known. She rubbed her belly with her free hand. "Little girl is active tonight."

"Thought we'd decided on her name?"

"Rose. Rose Emmaline Weasley. It does sound nice, doesn't it?" Hermione had picked out Rose the moment they'd found out it was a girl. Ron, in typical fashion, had smiled and said okay.

"It's a good name. She should like it,too." He was just waiting to see if his daughter inherited the Weasley red hair to go with her name, but had never mentioned it to his wife, thinking it might not go over well.

"I keep worrying about it." she admitted.

"Well, don't. It's a fine name, for a fine girl, and soon enough she'll be here and be Rose and you'll never think about how you worried about it again." Ron wondered when he became the practical one in the relationship.

"You're right." That was a rare admission from Hermione.

"Always the tone of surprise." he commented.

Baby Rose choose that moment to give a good kick, eliting a gasp of surprise from her mother and a laugh from her father. "She agrees, she likes her name. So stop worrying." Ron told her.

Hermione sighed. "Fine. Rose likes her name and it's good." after a moment, she added, "I'm going on leave at the end of the week. They're making me."

"Hmmm." Ron mumbled, tucking her head onto his shoulder. Her hair smelled good, he thought. "We'll be fine, I've got a job."

"It's not fair, Ron. I could still work for a few more weeks." she protested. She didn't want to admit or tell him about her daily struggles just getting in and out of her desk chair at the office. As much as Hermione didn't want to admit it, taking early leave wouldn't be that bad.

"You could, but why?" he was drowsy. "You could put your feet up, knit a blanket, read a book, wait for me to come home at night." He used his foot to pull the blankets up closer and then spread the blankets over them both, knowing Hermione would have a hard time reaching them at the foot of the bed.

She had no argument for once. That was rare, he reflected, as they lay in their warm cocoon of blankets, a low fire burning in the heater, just together, safe. Soon they'd be three but tonight two, holding hands as they fell asleep.