A/N: For the lovely and brilliant Ash. Also for the Sherlock Competition (Part 1, Prompt 4: write about moving in or finding a new place to live)

"It's perfect," she says, looking at the little gated house with the neat, spacious yard.

Already Hermione can imagine settling down here, living out the rest of her life in this quiet, cozy place. As she strokes her swollen belly, she can see a child with her eyes and Ron's nose running around, jumping into piles of orange and yellow autumn leaves.

"It's a Muggle neighborhood," Ron says.

Hermione makes an impatient noise. "Yes, Ronald, it is," she confirms. "My mum used to bring me to the park near here when I was younger. We can do the same with our little Rosie."

Her husband doesn't look impressed. His eyes flicker from his wife to the house. "We're not Muggles..."

"But it's perfect!" she insists. "Plenty of room for a family. Good primary schools. It has one of the lowest crime rates in England. And-"

"Muggle crime rates," Ron points out, his voice dropping to a hushed but urgent whisper as a group of teenagers run past. "Best way to avoid Muggle crime? Live in a wizarding village."

Hermione turns to him, eyes narrowing slightly. She could expect something like that from the Malfoys, but not Ron. "You sound a bit prejudiced," she accuses, her tone sharp and dangerous.

"I'm not prejudiced," he says, taking a quick step back, fully aware that arguing with a hormonal pregnant woman might not be in his best interest. "But you know about wizarding things. I nearly lost an eye trying to use your parents' toaster."

"You can learn."

"Hogwarts is over, Hermione. No more Muggle studies."

Hermione slumps slightly, letting out a sigh. "You never took Muggle Studies."

But she knows she's lost her battle.

OoOoO

Hermione looks sadly at the real estate brochures, eyes fixed longingly on all the perfect houses. She had hoped that Ron would come around, but even now he's too stubborn, and she's too tired to have a great row.

Frustrated, she scoops them all up, crumpling them into a massive ball of glossy paper and tossing them into the bin.

OoOoO

"You sure?" she hears Ron say.

Hermione peeks around the corner, watching as Ron sits in front of the fireplace, talking to the flaming outline of his mother's head.

Mrs. Weasley nods, smiling at him reassuringly. "Of course, dear. Your father looked into it, and it's- Oh, hello, Hermione!"

Ron jumps, as does Hermione. He turns, grinning sheepishly, his face flushed pink. "I thought you were with Ginny," he says weakly, unable to meet her eye as he jumps up and kisses her cheek.

"Arthur? Is that you? Got to go, dear," Mrs. Weasley calls before vanishing.

"What was that about?"

"That? Er, nothing," Ron says a little too quickly, the blush spreading ears. "I was just, erm, asking Mum about onion soup."

Hermione snorts. "You're a really bad liar, Ron."

"But you love me," he laughs, pulling her close and kissing a trail from her cheek to her lips.

Hermione knows he's trying to distract her, to make her forget what she's just overheard. She knows she shouldn't let him, that marriages shouldn't have secrets and lies. But he deepens the kiss, and she runs a hand through his hair, promising herself that she'll pursue the matter later.

OoOoO

"Okay," Ron says, keeping his hands clasped tightly over her closed eyes. "Now, there's a step right here."

Hermione stumbles slightly, but he keeps her steady. "I hate surprises," she says darkly, scowling at whatever happens to be in front of her hidden eyes. "There's no way to prepare for them."

Ron chuckles against her ear, his warm breath tickling her skin. "Same old Hermione," he muses. "A little further. Not that far!"

Her foot collides against something solid, sending a shock to her swollen ankles. With a yelp, she jumps back, crashing against Ron who removes his hands from her face and grips her arms.

"Careful!"

Taking advantage, Hermione opens her eyes, head tipping to the side, puzzled by the unfamiliar house before her. "What's this?" she asks, turning around to face her husband.

"It's a house, Hermione. I thought you were supposed to be the brain in this relationship," he teases, grinning proudly.

"I can see that. But why are we here?"

"Mum had a solution," he explains, his grin fading to a softer, more genuine smile. "Some little villages are perfectly balanced. Wizards live peacefully beside Muggles, and-"

"Did your mum tell you what to say?" Hermione chuckles, amused by how professional he sounds.

"Hey! I read!" he says defensively, folding his arms over his chest in a mock pout. "The point is, there are Muggles here. And wizards. Primary schools. Little wizarding shops hidden away so only we can see them."

Hermione nods. She's read about such villages, but she doesn't understand why Ron would bring her there. Unless...

"Oh, Ron..."

He opens the door, gesturing her in with a grand sweep of his arm. "Welcome home, Mrs. Weasley."