"Oh, just that you're in so much trouble when she grows up." She lifted her own eyes, meeting Ron's with that smile still on her face. It dropped away, replaced by a frown of confusion as she watched Ron's own smile falter slightly as their eyes met. She looked back down towards the baby, tuning out the conversation around her as she contemplated Ron's behavior. She supposed, on the one hand, she wasn't acting normal. Or what had become her normal since waking up last September. That moody, sullen, raincloud attitude of hers had finally gotten old (though, she was sure, the others had found it tiresome long before she herself had), and she had decided that she wasn't going to be that closed off person any longer. She wasn't going to accept her fate lying down. Though, to be fair, she was still technically accepting her fate. She knew she was dying. Knew she was going to die and that very little could be done to stop it from happening. What had changed, though, was her willingness to be a closed-off shell of her former self along the way. She wanted to live, for the little bit of time she had left.