"I know it's far too early to be wondering if it'll be a boy or a girl, but I can't help but imagine," Hermione admitted, and when she laughed again, it was almost with tears in her eyes from trying to contain the excitement. She had always been the sort of individual to let her imagination run wild, and now that Ron was smiling, it felt as though she had permission to finally outline in detail all of the things that she had yearned for, all her life. To fill in the blanks, to put every last piece in place.

"Knowing how many boys there were in your family, I'm immediately picturing a boy. Red hair, freckled, probably getting into far more mischief than I'll ever feel comfortable with. He'll probably love Quidditch, to my great chagrin. Boy or girl, I'm sure I won't be escaping that," she mused aloud, shifting until she could tuck herself next to Ron, tugging on his hand to let his arm encircle her shoulders. "And I feel fine. A little under the weather, admittedly, but I think it's no more than a bit of fatigue. No nausea yet."