Ron stumbled through the door of the Knead for Speed Bakery just two minutes before they closed.
"Back again, Mr. Weasley?"
"Chelsea bun!" Ron shouted, out of breath. He clutched at the stitch in his side and tried to catch his breath.
"Coming right up!"
"Better make that two," Ron called back to Gary the shop owner. Running back and forth to bakeries, ice cream parlors, and sweet shops worked up quite an appetite.
Please let this be it.
Gary returned with the two buns in a bag. Ron quickly paid for his purchase and bolted out the door.
Ron ran as fast as his long legs would carry him to the Apparition point. Quickly, he popped back into the house he shared with his wife. She was lying on her back with her arm draped over her face, just as he had left her.
"Ron! Please put me out of my misery!"
"Bollocks. Let's try one last thing then I'll leave you alone. Deal?"
Hermione peeked out from under the crook of her elbow and gave him a skeptical look.
"I haven't been able to hold down anything all day. What makes you think I can stomach this?"
"I don't know. Maybe the baby likes Chelsea buns?" Ron helped her sit up and took a seat next to her. He pinched off a small piece of the bun and held it up to her tightly closed mouth. "Just a bite. Please?" He gave her the look and she couldn't say no.
"Not fair using that look on me when I'm weak and defenseless," Hermione said with a half smile.
She took the piece of bun from his hand and sniffed it.
"Mmmm it smells good. That's a good sign."
"Go on." Ron watched with anticipation. He had spent all day looking for something his pregnant wife could eat. Morning sickness was common, according to Hermione, and she would be just fine without food for a while. But she's pregnant with a Weasley, he thought. You can't not feed a Weasley!
She popped the bun in her mouth, chewed it slowly, and swallowed. They held their breath, waiting to see if this, like everything else, would come right back up. Moments later, Hermione looked at him and smiled.
"Ron! I think it worked!" She took another bite, and another, until it was gone. Ron grabbed the other bun from the bag and excitedly handed it to her.
"I'll go buy some more." He made to get up then realized, "Fuck, the bakery's closed!"
"Don't worry," she assured him, "I'll be fine for the night. Tomorrow we'll buy the lot of them."
"Sounds good. I wonder why you're able to eat these but nothing else."
"Like you said, I guess the baby likes Chelsea buns," she joked. "If it's a girl maybe we should name her Chelsea."
"If you're naming the baby after the food you can stomach, thank Merlin you threw up that Waldorf pudding!"