Hannah remembered precisely when the last time they had been together had been, "Valentine's Day," she murmured, glancing down at her lap before looking back at Neville. "I didn't think it could be that, I mean, I've been inconsistently sick and nauseous for the past two weeks and my trousers are starting to get too tight." She sniffled once and the let him go so that she could lay back on the bed and pulled her top up to expose her stomach where a tiny beginning of a bump was beginning to form. "Look at that. I don't think I'm just bloated and," she hesitated before continuing, "I'm late, Nev. Two months."
She wanted a family with him, she truly did. She wanted to marry him and have his children and be happy in their own home without a War raging outside the doors. But there was a War and they couldn't stop it and it wasn't any place in which to raise a child right now. So, needless to say, Hannah was terrified and hoping beyond hope that she was wrong. She didn't think she was wrong, though.