The fact that Daphne wanted a child had not escaped Harry. She'd brought it up at least twice now and despite her denying that she wanted one, he knew there was something more to it then that. When she had told him about the faulty pregnancy tests, it had been in her tone. He hadn't recognized it at the time, what with the shock he'd been dealing with, but looking back it was obvious.
Since she had said it was nothing they needed to talk about, Harry had been thinking of nothing else. He needed to figure this out, but had felt like he was drifting at sea, not really sure where he was going or what was going to happen. In the end, he'd gone to see Mr. Weasley. If Daphne wasn't going to talk then he needed to find someone who would. Mr. Weasley had always treated him like a son and if anyone would know what Harry was going through at the moment, he was sure that it was Arthur.
As expected the conversation, while a little embarrassing, had been beneficial. Arthur had given him several things to think about and that had been what he was doing when Daphne returned to the house. At first all he could do was blink and stare at her. There hadn't even been a hello, she'd just thrown it at him and for some odd, he found it endlessly amusing. Perhaps because that she was thinking on the same topic or perhaps it was the way she was standing, looking for all the world as though she was scolding him. For a moment, he fought with himself before he started to snicker.