Disclaimer: I own Nothing

A/N: This story is based upon the scene where Ron suggests that he make tea and says that that's what his mum always does. Hopefully it will be a few chapters long starting with Ron and Hermione trying to conceive and then following Rose in a few moments through her life.

The wooden clock on the way read four thirty and the glittering moon through the window told Hermione that this was not the right time of day for her to be sitting in her kitchen crying. The house that she and Ron had bought three years ago was a nice cottage size with four bedrooms, an office, a spacious backyard, a quaint kitchen, and a welcoming family room. The two of them had been saving up for the house since the moment they became engaged. It was their dream home and they had spent the longest time decorating the house so that it gave the off the cozy, warm feeling that they were looking for. The house smelled of fall and the fresh cookies that had been baked with Teddy and Vicka earlier that day, pictures of the Granger- Weasley family lined the walls of the hallway, and throughout the house could be seen a mesh of wayward books, a forgotten broomstick, broken quills, chess pieces, lost earrings, and hastily removed ties- it was Ron and Hermione through and through. Yet to Hermione this house felt so empty, it was void of the one thing that she had been trying to fill it with and her body had for the third time told her no. So there she sat, silently crying over the fact that she had everything except the one thing that she truly wanted.

-"Hermione, are you down there?" A sleepy eyed Ron in a white t-shirt and plaid pajama pants came trudging down the stairs.

She looked up at him revealing red ringed eyes and quivering lips that she had attempted to hide behind a thick book that she was reading on muggle animal protection rights and couldn't find the strength to reply.

-"I'll make some tea," Hermione let a small smile quickly grace her lips as she watched Ron prod his wand preparing tea. She could always count on Ron to make tea whenever someone showed sign of distress. This habit that he acquired from his mother had made her laugh in her teenage years. When they had first started dating it annoyed her that he thought that anything could be cured with a cup of tea, but now it was a comfort and lately it seemed that they had been drinking a lot of tea. Ten minutes later, Ron sat two chipped tea cups and saucers at the table. He reached over, swept away her overgrown fringe and kissed her gently on the forehead. He then sat down across from her and took a sip of his own tea before letting out a sad sigh.

-"This is about the baby. Hermione I'm telling you things have to success eventually and… well if we don't we can always adopt,"

Hermione let her own sad sigh out and a tear rolled down one cheek. She attempted to bring the tea cup to her lips but found that her lips quivered too much to wrap around the edge of the cup and her hands shook too much to even bring the cup to her lips. She put the cup back down onto the saucer and began staring into the tea- too afraid to meet Ron's eyes bearing down on her. Hermione stared into the tea picking out the different colors in the raspberry tea. Raspberry- she used to hate raspberry but Ron got her addicted to it, and now people laugh when if they're asked what flavor of tea they like, the two of the simultaneously respond, "Raspberry," Ron has given her the time she needs by not saying anything, but by now fifteen minutes have passed and he cannot bear to be quiet any longer.

-"Drink, Hermione," She tries but she still can't. Can't he understand that they're baby hadn't even made it to the stage in development where he or she could be called a baby yet. This morning, she was thirteen weeks pregnant and thrilled; this was the farthest they had ever made it. Baby Anthony had only made it to seven weeks and baby Claire had lasted even shorter- only five weeks. This time she was so sure, Hermione just knew that at Sunday dinner at Arthur and Molly's she would be the one to announce that she was pregnant. However, she woke up a five thirty the previous morning to find baby Justin a sticky, wet, horrifying spill of blood across the bed sheets. She woke Ron and they stripped the sheets to be washed and barely spoke the rest of the morning. The rest of the day was a haze of work and now she found herself sitting in front of rapidly cooling tea. Didn't Ron understand that all she wanted was for her body to be rounded and glow and because of pregnancy just like Fleur and now Audrey? This was her third miscarriage in the two years that she and Ron had been trying for children. She was twenty-five years old; her body was in its prime shape, so she simply couldn't figure out why it had chosen to reject a third baby. Padma, her gynecologist had told her that miscarriages wear on the body and that she and Ron should seriously consider if they want to keep trying for a baby.

"Drink Hermione," When she finally brings herself to begin sipping the tea he continues.

"Hermione, we can try one more time if you like, but after that I can't do this anymore. I can't bear to see you in such a state anymore and I know it's getting to me too because Hartwell asked me if my dog died in the lift today. We can always adopt you know, there're plenty of children who would love to have a mother read to them every night, a father as brilliant as me, and more cousins than he knows what to do with,"

Hermione could see from the crinkles forming and the heavy bags under his eyes that he hadn't been lying; the miscarriages were taking a toll on him too. The eager auror-in-training, Nicholas Hartwell had even asked if their dog had died- they didn't have a dog, they had Crookshanks but it was the sentiment that mattered.

-"Adoption, yes Ron you're right, we can always adopt a child from the orphanage," Her voice was soft and robotic. But I don't what to adopt! I want frizzy red haired babies with brown eyes and freckles who support the Chudley Cannons and read Walt Whitman's "Leaves of Grass" before they go to bed. She wanted so desperately to scream this in his face, but she didn't because Ron was being patient and telling him that he understood that losing the babies was emotionally and mentally bad for them, and that maybe they should give up hope. He was being everything that it had taken him eighteen years to become.

Ron then stood up and gathered her in his arms, with a flick of his wand he refilled their tea cups, and then levitated the cups in front of them as they made their way outside. They settled into a porch swing and Ron wrapped a quilt around them. A quick look at her out of the corner of his eye had Hermione sipping her tea. She knows that routine now, 'drink' he will say if she doesn't. They sit slowly swinging and watching the sun come up. Hermione then tucks her legs beneath her and lays her head against Ron's shoulder and tells him all that she feels as they sip their tea.

-"I want a child that is ours, that is half of you and half of me. Is that so selfish of me?"

-"No, no Hermione it isn't. We all have wants and desires. Just promise me Hermione, that we can try one more time and if it miscarries we'll adopt,"

-"Okay," Hermione is surprised to feel that no tears fall as she makes a promise to Ron that she doesn't want to stick to.

-"Thank you, Hermione,"

-"Ron,"

-"Yes,"

-"Raspberry tea always makes things okay,"