In Case of Emergency, a harry potter fanfic

A/N: Originally published 10/31/10 for the RHrBigBang challenge at The R/HR Love

Many many thanks to my incredible beta Urbanmama for pushing me to finish this very daunting challenge.

Awesomely, this challenge paired each author with an artist for illustrations. The incredible ~catching-smoke drew two incredible pieces to accompany this story that you should really look at because they are amazing. I cannot link them here, but they're in her gallery on deviantart under "Ron and Hermione" and titled "In Case of Emergency 1 & 2" Seriously, go look at them and leave her some love. They're seriously so gorgeous.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

He can hear Hermione screaming - the horrifying sound coming from another room. He can't reach her. He can't help her.

It's just like the nightmare that after almost 10 years he still wakes from in a panicky sweat. But they aren't back in Malfoy Manor.

He takes a deep, shuddering breath.

The lights are bright; his eyes can't focus. The pain in his head pulses through his body with each pounding heartbeat.

There's a young girl in a pink striped outfit sewing his head with a needle and thread. The loud sounds from the crowded room around him suddenly flood his ears.

He hears her again.

The girl lets out a shriek when he leaps from the bed knocking her back against the curtain. He runs as fast as his wobbly legs can take him toward Hermione's cries.

The small young woman is following him. Screaming for him to turn around, but he can't be bothered. He has to get to her.

He bursts into the room, and his body goes rigid. He feels as if he's drowning in the warm sensation of all his blood rushing to his toes.

There is his wife, on a table with more doctors than he can count swarming around her. There are awful machines making shrill noises in the small room, and the doctors are all shouting at one another. Hermione looks more terrified than he's ever seen.

And he sees the blood. So much blood. There's blood on Hermione's shoulder, soaking through the white cardigan she looked so lovely in this morning. There's blood all over the front of the doctors, on the floor.

She screams again, and his vision goes white. There are several nurses tugging on him now, trying desperately to pull him back out of the door.

He continues to struggle and the chaos only grows, until suddenly a baby's cry echoes through the air.

Before he can find his voice or break free from the grasp of a burly male nurse, everyone has been rushed out of the room.

He hears the words "emergency surgery," and his eyes drop to the bloody footprints scattered around the tile floor when everything goes black.

Ron had wanted to take her away for the weekend. Baby Hugo still wouldn't be here for a couple of months, but Hermione was already completely worn down. Rose had transformed from his sweet baby girl into an absolute terror. His mother said it was a just a phase. That she was feeling anxious about the new baby too and acting out. Hermione, in a hormonal tirade, told Molly that she could take care of Rose if it was "so damn easy." And after Hermione's immediate and tearful apology, Rose was going to stay at the Burrow for a few days.

He took her to Dublin for a long weekend holiday. The Wheezes had just had their most profitable school-season yet, and Ron's share allowed him to splurge on Hermione whenever she let him. Ron paid for a room at a posh inn that Neville and Hannah recommended and promised that they would spend every moment doing whatever Hermione wanted to do.

They arrived late Wednesday night and instead of eating a big dinner and making love all night like they'd planned, they both sat on the bed to take off their shoes and were asleep within minutes.

Thursday morning, Hermione woke up in a better mood than Ron had seen in weeks. She wanted to go to the natural history museum to see a new dinosaur exhibit. This seemed ridiculous to Ron, who argued that seeing bones of extinct animals was silly when they could have visited Charlie and seen live dragons. But Ron was never very good at saying no to Hermione. And walking around a museum wouldn't be that terrible - especially if he got to hold her hand and she kept smiling like that. Plus, with her pregnancy so far along, she wasn't likely to last more than a couple of hours before wanting to go right back to the inn for a mid-afternoon nap … to be followed by a late-afternoon shag.

She was positively glowing in a summery pink dress that hugged her pregnancy curves as she bounced eagerly on her heels in the lift. When they reached the front doors of the inn, she scampered down to the curb waving her arm.

"What are you on?" he called after her.

"Come on, let's take a taxi!"

"Its really close, we can just walk."

She rested a hand on her round belly and frowned slightly, "I don't want to walk Ron, and you know quite well we can't Apparate while I'm pregnant."

He laughed a little and opened the door of the black car that pulled in front of them, "All right, love. Whatever you say."

The car took off quickly while Hermione turned to Ron and thanked him again and again for taking her on holiday. He saw the blue car speeding toward them from behind her head, but it was too fast, and there was no time for him to reach for his wand.

Friday, 6 June, 2008; 1:22am

When Ron opened his eyes again he found himself in a small bed surrounded by garish floral curtains. A man in a bright white coat tore the curtain open before his eyes could adjust to the light. "Oh, good. You're up."

The man didn't look up from the clipboard in his hands. Ron tried to sit up, but his head felt heavy. When he tried to speak, his tongue felt too large for his mouth. Suddenly, the man was shining a bright light into his eyes.

Ron squinted sharply and turned his head away. The man grabbed his chin. "I need you to look into the light."

"What happened?" Ron finally managed to say.

"You were in a motor vehicle accident," the man said curtly. "And then you ran through the hospital like a mad man, and we had to sedate you. Lucky for you, though, you've got barely a scratch on you. No concussion. Just the ten stitches."

"Where is she?" he demanded.

"Your wife is still in surgery." The man scribbled on the clipboard again.

Ron continued to prod, "Is she all right?"

"Someone will update you on her condition." Just then, a young woman with round cheeks and short dark hair appeared around the curtain.

"Doctor, they are ready for you on seventeen."

The man handed the girl his clipboard, "Thank you. Can you please discharge Mr. Weasley?"

She took one quick look at Ron and looked back at the man, seemingly more flustered than before. "Yes. Yes of course."

The doctor left them alone in the small curtained space, and Ron started to slowly stretch out. But the nurse was already lunging for his arm, trying to pull him off of the bed.

"Come on!" she said in a frantic whisper, tossing a clear bag containing his clothes at him. "Hurry! Just come with me now."

She turned her back to him and peered outside of the curtain, apparently keeping watch for someone.

Ron struggled to fight the fog as he pulled his trousers from the bag and worked them over his legs. His legs shook as he got to his feet to pull on his shirt. Bits of glass fell from the bag onto the floor as he grabbed it. As soon as he was dressed, he awkwardly cleared his throat and she pulled him out of the curtain past rows of more just like it. He heard someone loudly retching behind the one on the end, before she tugged him around the corner.

They stopped next to a shelf covered in folded blankets, and she darted her eyes around behind his head. "Listen, I know-" a shrill tweeting sound rang out from her hip, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. She grabbed at the black box attached to her hip, glanced at it, and back at Ron. "I have to go. But I need you to go sit in that room down there." She pointed quickly, backing away from him. "Just stay there, okay? I'll be back." She darted down the corridor and called over her shoulder, "Stay there!"

The waiting room she'd sent him to was like a nightmare. He sat with his back as straight as an arrow in the hard chair, his arms folded protectively in front of him. He'd taken to absently staring at the flashing pictures on the telly that was mounted on the wall. He couldn't hear what was going on, but it was better than listening to the screaming baby with the fever. And when he'd noticed the woman crying quietly in the corner, pulling nervously on the ends of her skirt, he'd just about started crying too.

"Mr. Weasley?" he heard from the other side of the room.

Ron turned to find another man in a white coat, this one much older than the first. He had a beard that was dark on the sides with big patches of white.

"Can you come with me, son?"

He nodded and silently began to follow the man, his now sweaty hands shoved deep into his pockets. They got into the lift together and Ron's heart was pounding in his ears. They reached a door in the middle of the corridor and he held his breath and waited.

"Mr. Weasley, your wife is in stable condition. But she suffered extensive injuries."

Ron tried not to shake as he listened to the man read the list of medical conditions in front of him. Most of the words were foreign sounding, but he did understand broken leg, broken pelvis, fractured collar bone, extensive internal bleeding…

"She's going to need at least three more surgeries," the doctor continued, "Also, she hemorrhaged quite badly from the emergency delivery, and we had to perform a hysterectomy to keep her from bleeding out. We know Mrs. Weasley isn't even 30 yet, but it was a life-or-death decision, and I can assure you that the entire surgical team was in agreement that it was necessary. I'm so sorry…"

He kept talking. He still had more to say about recovery time and which of Hermione's surgeries took priority, but Ron's mind was somewhere else entirely. Weeks ago. When their family's biggest problems were Rose's frequent tantrums and Hermione's third-trimester discomfort.

They were cleaning Rose's baby things out of the nursery to make room for the baby, whom they had just agreed to name Hugo after Hermione's grandfather. Hermione sat cross-legged on the beige carpet, carefully taking things from the bureau drawers and folding them neatly into storage boxes. Ron was on a ladder in the hall, his top half in the ceiling while he rearranged the dusty boxes already crowding their small attic space.

"All right Ron, since you're getting your boy the rest have to be girls."

He stepped down off the ladder, "All of them? I grew up with one sister, and she was more than enough," he said teasingly. "So why all girls?"

"Because there are 50 pairs of pink socks in this drawer." She laughed, "Plus, boys are icky."

"Hermione, if you still thought boys were icky, we wouldn't be here right now." He leaned in close until his lips brushed her earlobe."You don't think I'm icky do you?"

"I've thought you were icky ever since I helped your Mum with the wash that first summer I visited you. Actually, I take that back, I thought you were icky starting in first-year, when I saw you eat." She winked and pushed a box toward him

He kissed her lips and scooped up the box, "Okay, fair enough."

He suddenly crashed back to earth, "The baby!"

The man flinched and looked at him, eyes wide.

"My son." The words felt heavy and fear sank deep in his stomach, "Is he… did he make it?"

"He's alive, but I don't have any more information about his condition, I'm sorry." He smiled warmly, "Go in there and see her, son, and I'll make sure someone from the neonatal unit comes down here to talk to you as soon as possible."

His hands were shaking as he slowly pressed open the door, and all of the air left his lungs as soon as he saw her.

Hermione was propped up in a tall bed with one of her legs hoisted up on pulleys. A plastic mask covered her nose and mouth. She was so still Ron was certain time must have stopped for a moment. He approached the bed slowly, standing next to a bag of blood hanging on a pole.

When her face came clearly into view reality crashed down on him like a giant stone wall and panic spread through him like wildfire.

I have to get her out of here.

But how? Could he Apparate them safely? It was doubtful. As shaky and emotional as he was, she'd probably get there in six pieces. But what about the baby?Maybe he could get himself to St. Mungo's or Harry's, even, for help. But as soon as he considered leaving her for even a second, he had to sit down and catch his breath.

For the next several hours, Ron sat silently on a hard vinyl armchair next to Hermione's bed, just listening to the clicks and whistles of the machines, trying to figure out a plan. He didn't have his wand. It wasn't in the bag with his things. He wouldn't be surprised if it was broken and thrown out. Where were Hermione's things? He looked up and saw a bag lying on a counter across the room. He jumped up and started quickly digging through the bag, but it was just her shoes, her handbag, and their passports.

She made him get a passport. Went through all kinds of complications to get it too. He didn't understand why, when they so rarely used muggle transportation to get anywhere. But she'd just rolled her eyes and said, "We live in both worlds, Ron. It's important for us to be prepared, especially in case of emergencies."

"In case of emergencies."

That's why she wanted him to actually learn how to use that mobile she'd bought him, that was stashed in a drawer somewhere in his Ministry office.

He slowly padded back to the chair and scooted it closer to Hermione's bed. He gently picked her hand up and placed it in his. Ron leaned forward and rested his head gently on her arm, "I'm so sorry Hermione."

Friday, 6 June, 2008; 3:17am

"Oh good, I found you!" The young nurse from earlier burst into the door. "Sorry I took so long. Having a hard time trusting the muggle Healers?"

He was positive he'd misheard her. He was tired; perhaps he was simply hearing his own thoughts projected in other people's voices.

"I know who you are. It's all right. I was a first year at Hogwarts during the war. Your wife was Head Girl of Gryffindor my second year. I was in Ravenclaw. I saw her name on the surgery board and thought it couldn't possibly be the same Hermione. But then I saw you and figured you might need some help."

"If you're a witch, what are you doing in a muggle hospital?"

"I'm muggle-born. Both of my parents are doctors. When I finished at Hogwarts they insisted that I go to the same university they did and study medicine."

"That isn't fair." Ron said, suddenly finding himself irritated by muggles.

She smiled, "It's really not a big deal. I decided I'd study nursing instead, practice a couple of years and then become a Medi-Witch. This is my first year." She waved her hand casually and turned her attention back to Hermione. "Are you doing all right? Has anyone spoken to you?" She grabbed the chart hung by the doorway and began to flip through the pages.

Ron snapped into action then. Suddenly there was someone he could talk to without fear of revealing himself as a wizard. "We have to get her out of here! To St. Mungo's. There's experienced Healers there. They'll know what to do!"

"Mr. Weasley, please!" she hushed, "Don't shout. I can help you transfer her to St. Mungo's if you want. But I think you should let her wake up and decide. The baby on the other hand-"

"Do you know anything about the baby?" Ron interrupted.

She looked up from the papers, "Do you?"

He shook his head slightly.

"Why don't you come upstairs with me, and I'll take you to him. The nurses up there can explain better." She opened the door and began to tiptoe out of the room.

He snuck into the hall with her and shut the door hesitantly behind him, "What if she wakes up?"

She smiled reassuringly, "She won't be up for a while. You really should come with me now"

"I'm Claire Murphy by the way." She said once they'd gotten inside the lift. "You can always ask for me if you need any help while you're here."

"Thank you, Claire." Ron managed, "This whole place is… really scary."

He could barely breathe when the young nurse led him into the dimly lit room. Loud beeps and clicks echoed through the room that was filled with plastic bubbles. She tugged at his elbow and led him to one of the bubbles in the corner, where a severe-looking nurse squinted at them until Claire whispered "The father."

Ron didn't even acknowledge the nurse and peered inside. His heart gave a shocking jolt when his eyes caught a glimpse of paper-thin skin peeking out from amongst the blankets and tubes. The baby could have fit in the palm of his hand; he didn't even look real. There was a tiny mask taped over his eyes and an angry white tube jutting from his mouth. His tiny chest was rising and falling in quick, jumpy breaths. Ron took an uneasy step back, his hands plastered over his mouth. He was suddenly very glad that Hermione was unconscious several floors away. She couldn't bear this.

"Is he going to be all right?" the question stuck in his throat.

"He's got a very long road ahead of him. He wasn't ready to be born, and his lungs aren't developed enough to work on their own. But he's lucky. He could have been much worse off."

Ron could scarcely imagine a baby in worse condition.

Baby. This wasn't just a baby. This was their son. "Hugo," he uttered, more to himself than at the baby.

The first moments with Hugo couldn't have been more different than the ones he had shared with Rose. For more than two years, the memory of his first afternoon as a father had got him through his darkest moments.

Rose was born at 7am just as the sun was starting to rise. A few hours later after all of the healers and family members had cleared out, Ron carefully stretched out on the bed with Hermione, both of them resting on their elbows to stare at the squirming bundle lying between them. The early morning sun was just beginning to creep in through the curtains.

Ron didn't know where to keep his eyes. The perfect baby girl in front of him was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He wanted to look at the tiny fingers that were holding his thumb and count them hundreds of times. But Hermione. God, Hermione. Her hair was shining in the light, and the pink in her cheeks was the same color as the pink blanket swaddling Rose. She was smiling a smile that Ron had never seen before. She was so breathtakingly beautiful he felt like he was in a dream.

He didn't want to do anything all day but stare at both of them – his two lovely girls. Even after Rose started crying and Hermione drifted off to much-needed sleep, he was in a happy fog of euphoric exhaustion. And that blissful moment faded into weeks of chaos and falling asleep at the kitchen table.

Today, however, there was no post-birth high. His wife was severely injured, and his premature son was clinging to life. He was separated from his wife and newborn by plastic tubes and hallways, and he felt more scared and alone than he had since the rainy day he angrily Apparated away from his two best friends, uncertain he'd ever see them again.

A few hours later Ron was still sleepily perched beside Hermione's bed, a new heavier burden of fear sitting on top of his shoulders.

He was slumped down in the chair, his eyes transfixed on one of the machines by Hermione's bed. He was pretty sure it was watching her heartbeat. The steady high-pitched rhythm made him feel an odd sense of calm. She was still here, no matter how broken her body was.

He couldn't help but think of the last time Hermione was the one perched next to his hospital bed.

Ron didn't have any memory of the actual accident. But Harry and the other Aurors that saw it had recounted it for him dozens of times. They were doing surveillance on a house in North London. Ron's post was on top of a three-story brick building with Harry. The others on their team were stationed on the ground surrounding it. They'd been up there for hours and everyone was wet and freezing. Then someone on the ground whistled and Ron jumped up, went to see what was happening, slipped and fell straight off the roof, smacking his face on a fire escape before crashing to the pavement. For a few nerve-wracking seconds, all the Aurors except for Harry thought he was dead.

What he did remember was suddenly realizing he was in hospital. He wasn't awake, he couldn't move, but the voice that had reached him was unmistakable. Hermione. He could hear her so clearly, feel her presence so deeply that it was almost as if he were out of his body, sitting in the corner observing the scene.

She was frazzled. Clearly she had Apparated straight out of bed. Her braid was falling apart in big frizzy chunks. She was wearing his latest Weasley jumper. It was so long on her she hadn't even bothered to put on trousers.

Hermione started to wipe her tears with the excessively long sleeves, her jaw quivering as she spoke, "W-Was he… was he hit by any spells?"

"Mr. Potter initially thought he may have been stunned, but it seems it was an actual accident. He just slipped and fell from the roof." The Healer patted her shoulder gently, "But we've healed all the broken bones in his face, the bruising should go away soon. And his back appears to be miraculously in order. It's likely he managed a last-minute nonverbal Cushioning Charm that didn't fully manifest before he hit the ground. We just have to wait for him to wake up to know much more. You can stay here as long as you'd like, Mrs. Weasley."

"Thank you." She said quietly.

Once the healer had gone, she took a few steps toward his bed, "Oh Ron, you idiot!" She snarled through her tears. "You say I don't have to worry about you because you're clever and quick. And then you go falling off of rooftops like a clumsy buffoon!" she was pacing back and forth and getting more hysterical with every word, "You can't keep this up Ron! I won't have it. Because... Because you're going to be a father soon." Then she took a giant gasping breath and collapsed into the chair next to the bed, her shoulders shaking with sobs.

When he finally came to the next day, the first thing he said to her was, "Is it a boy or a girl?"

She smiled brilliantly, "You heard me?"

"Of course I did."

"Then you won't be so stupid anymore?"

"I think we both know I can't promise that," he joked.

"Why do I love you so much, Ron Weasley?"

"Because I'm so handsome."

She laughed her sweetest laugh, "You really should see how awful your face looks."

"But you still love me even if my face is ruined, yeah?"

She gently kissed his lips, "Always."

He wanted to hear her laugh again. He was terrified, and the longer he thought of her, the more the fear and anxiety welled up in his chest.

Just as the faintest light of morning was creeping into the sky, her fingers started twitching underneath his, and he thought he heard a tiny whimper from her lips. He rubbed his hands furiously over his face to wake up and sat tall in the chair.

"Hermione?" he leaned in and gently brushed her hair from her face. "Oh God, Hermione, can you hear me?" he said, his voice straining to keep him from sobbing.

"Ron?" she half croaked, her eyes opening to slits.

"Hermione." He breathed a small sigh of relief and pressed his lips to her forehead. "The taxi was hit by an oncoming car. Don't know how I managed to make it out all right. You're really banged up, love."

"I'm glad you weren't hurt." She sniffled, "You're such a baby when you're hurt."

His unexpected chuckle at her joke made him realize that there were hot tears slipping down his cheeks.

Realization seemed to wash over her face, and she immediately started grasping at her belly over the tightly tucked blankets. "The baby! Where's the baby?" she winced in pain at her frantic movements. "He's only 28 weeks!"

"Hermione, please don't move! The baby is fine," he pleaded. But that was a lie, and he knew she could tell. "He's teeny, and he needs help breathing, but he's alive, Hermione, he's alive."

"He's a Weasley," Hermione cried. "He knows how to fight."

Ron couldn't help but smile again.

Suddenly, her face crumpled, and she began to shake, "Ron, please, everything hurts." Tears started quickly slipping down her cheeks and catching on the tube under her nose, "I have to see him. I feel so empty without him," she once again tried to lift her arms to cradle herself but instead she let out a cry of anguish that broke Ron's heart.

He stood and grabbed her wrist, holding it tight to the bed and gently rubbing his fingers over her arm, "Shhh, Hermione. Do you want me to fetch a nurse?"

She squeezed her eyes shut tight and nodded.

Ron reached over and pressed the button above the bed that Claire had showed him before she left.

He sat back down and nestled his face in close to hers, "Someone should be here soon." He stroked her temple, "I wish it were me in that bed instead of you."

She opened her eyes a moment, "Well, I can handle it," she declared.

"You're amazing, you are," he once again found himself saying. She never stopped giving him a reason to say it. "I love you so much. I couldn't go on if…"

Sunday, 8 June, 2008

Ron quietly shut the door to Hermione's room and saw George and Harry approaching him in the hall.

"You're late," he tried to smile, "it's just the two of you?"

Harry winced uncomfortably and briefly looked at the floor searching for a believable excuse.

But George smiled jovially, "My fault. And what do you mean 'just the two of you?'" George embraced him in a choking hug, "Aren't you happy to see your two favorite male relatives, Ronniekins?

"Is Dad here, then?" Ron instinctively lobbed back at George, but then sobered and looked nervously over his shoulder.

"Hermione's already been wheeled off to her surgery, and they won't let me take visitors in to see Hugo this late."

"We know." Harry finally spoke up. "But right now we're here to take you to the pub."

"You're joking, mate. I can't leave her."

George dragged him down the hall by his shoulders, "Yes you can. You're coming with us. On her orders. And even though you clearly do, I don't like crossing your wife. She's a frighteningly clever witch."

They found a pub up the street from the hospital and sat at a dark booth in the corner. George brought them a round of pints filled with thick, dark beer that Ron didn't like, but it would do under the circumstances.

He silently watched and nodded as Harry and George caught him up on quidditch scores, talking a bit about work before an awkward silence filled the air.

"Hermione says she doesn't want you sleeping on that bloody chair anymore," George said, without a trace of his usual teasing tone.

Ron sat up, annoyed that his wife was choosing to talk to him through his brother. "How do you know that?"

George fished Harry's mobile out of his coat pocket, "She actually knows how to use a phone."

"It's true," Harry added. "She rings me and her parents when you're visiting Hugo."

Ron folded his arms defensively, "Well, where am I supposed to sleep?"

"You could just go back to the inn." Harry suggested. "I spoke to the manager, and he agreed to let you a room for as long as you need."

After a few seconds of heavy silence, George looked at his watch and said, "Ron, I've gotta Apparate back home, but Angie and I will be taking turns coming up here. Take care of my favorite sister-in-law. And that strapping new nephew of mine."

Patting his younger brother's shoulder, George stood up slowly, adding, "Before I go, here." He reached in his pocket and handed Ron a Wheezes envelope. "It's your paycheck. I had it exchanged into pounds for you."

Ron peeked inside the flap and knew enough about muggle currency to realize that it was entirely too much. Standing up to his full height, he lowered his eyes to meet George's. "What's this? I only went in two days last month, and summer's not good for bonuses."

"Perks of owning a business, little brother. You hire other people to do the work, and you still make all the money." He gave Ron a hard one-armed hug. "Well, I'm off. See you later, mates."

Ron angrily swilled his drink looking at his brother depart, "Bloody git. I don't need the extra money."

"We know you don't need it." Harry said, "But we also know that you won't let us help anyway."

"Why hasn't Mum visited?" Ron said, quickly changing the subject to something else annoying him, "I haven't heard from her at all. Doesn't she care that her daughter-in-law is in constant pain and her grandson is fighting for his life?"

"Ron," Harry said tentatively. "It's just that... they don't understand why you're all still here."

"You haven't seen them Harry," Ron slurred, fighting an anguished expression. "We don't have any other options."

"No, I know. Trust me, I do. I just don't think -"

"Please bring my Mum and my sister here Harry," Ron said shakily. "I need to see them. I'll talk to them face-to-face."

Harry walked toward Ron, surprising him with the kind of hug they reserved for near-death experiences and exited the pub without another word.

Once alone, and in the street Ron decided to it was probably best to follow whatever plan Hermione and his brother's had come up with. As he walked back to the inn, Ron couldn't stop thinking of his family. The doctors assured him that Hermione's surgery wasn't complicated, just putting metal pins in her pelvic bones. It sounded completely barbaric and terrifying to Ron, but he'd already learned it wasn't much use trying to understand or doubt the doctors. Hugo wasn't faring well either. The neonatal nurses told him he wasn't gaining any weight. That they worried he might have intestinal obstructions. And then there was Rose. He couldn't even remember which set of grandparents had Rose at the moment.

Ron walked into the cool air of his room. He toed off his shoes and dropped his trousers on the floor before collapsing onto the bed.

Twenty minutes later, he had rearranged the pillows three times and still felt restless. He had slept without Hermione before, he'd sometimes spent weeks at a time away form her on Auror missions over the past ten years - something he was very much regretting at the moment. He clutched tightly at the pillows he'd collected from the other side of the bed. There was still the slightest scent of Hermione's shampoo lingering on the fabric. He cradled the lumpy cushions in his arms but nothing about it was comforting at all.

He closed his eyes tightly and let memories wash over him - like the first night they slept in the same bed for an entire night. It was the Christmas after Hermione's final year at Hogwarts. The Grangers had returned to Australia for a week to secure the sale of their cottage and couldn't get back to England before Hogwarts let out for holiday break. Ron met Hermione at the Hogsmeade shop, and they immediately Apparated to her big, empty house. That first December after the war, he could still count on his hands the number of times they'd made love – most of them frantic encounters on his creaky single bed. But that night they'd taken it slow, right on the living room sofa. Ron couldn't believe the exhilarating feeling of being in such a public room but knowing that no one would be interrupting.

She wanted to go to bed incredibly early and Ron remembered lying under Hermione's thick duvet, his arms wrapped protectively around her waist. His head was resting on the pillow at an awkward angle out of fear of waking her, and his neck was beginning to cramp. But he didn't care, because Hermione was warm and naked in his arms, and he could hold her all night if he wanted to. And he wanted to; it frightened him to think how much

She wasn't going to leap out of bed in a minute and grab her knickers rambling on about getting caught out. And George or Harry weren't going to open the door at a completely inopportune moment. It was just then that Hermione's whisper in the dark roused him from his half-sleep.

"Ron? Are you asleep?" she asked quietly.

"Not a bit."

She spun around in his arms and reached her hands up to his face to find his eyes in the darkness. She smiled brilliantly, "I'm too excited to sleep"

"Excited about what?"

"Being here with you. We finally get to be together without any possible disruptions. It's just too bad it's only for the night."

"It doesn't have to be."

"Good," she murmured to his chest.

"I mean it you know." He said, sitting up slightly. "You could come move in with me..."

She snorted sweetly, "And George? I don't think so."

The words filled him with a lingering insecurity that hadn't quite passed when she started tracing her fingers on his chest, "I'd much rather we have our own flat. I don't want to share a flat with George. And I don't want to share you with anybody else."

He looked at her like she had been speaking French and laughed with surprise, "You'd really get a flat with me?"

"Perhaps." She grinned wickedly and kissed his bottom lip gently, "If you do a better job of tidying up – especially your dirty socks."

"I promise there will never ever be a sock on the floor of our flat."

Of course he'd managed to break that promise over and over again. One particular offense led to a spectacular row that (as usual) led to even more spectacular make up sex on said floor. And with that fantastic memory playing out in his head, Ron finally fell asleep.

Tuesday, 10 June, 2008

He was about to leave for the night. He was getting up to kiss Hermione's cheek and get his coat, in fact, when someone knocked on the half-open door.

"Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley," the head neonatal nurse said somberly, "You should come upstairs with me, Mr. Weasley." She took a feeble, sad step into the room. "Hugo's breathing has become erratic, and the doctors are having trouble stabilizing him. They sent me to fetch you. "

Is he going to make it?" Ron asked.

"Please, Mr. Weasley, the neonatal specialists are doing their best to make sure he does," she answered calmly.

"That's not an answer," Hermione looked directly at the nurse. "We have to know! I have to be with him if he's not going to, not going…"

"It doesn't look good right now, Mrs. Weasley. But you mustn't give up hope."

"Ron, just go," Hermione half-sobbed.

"How can I do this by myself?" He finally confessed after several shaky breaths.

But she looked at him resolutely, her bottom lip quivering slightly, "You have been doing it by yourself. Go! I don't want him to be alone."

He nodded and kissed her wet cheek before standing to follow the nurse out of the room.

The nurse silently ushered Ron to the neonatal intensive care unit, Hugo's only home since his preterm birth. Two doctors and two nurses were standing around Hugo's incubator isolette, watching as Ron walked like a man being led to his execution.

"Mr. Weasley," one of the doctors said. "The good news is that his heart-rate is no longer dropping… at the moment, anyhow. But he's in the early stages of heart and lung failure. It's very touch and go. Just stay with him, and we'll be right here if he codes again."

"OK," was all Ron could manage.

"But if he does code, Mr. Weasley, I'm not confident we'll be able to revive him again," the second doctor added, while placing a not-so-reassuring hand on Ron's back.

Ron didn't respond to the second doctor, and directed his next words to Hugo.

"Hello, Hugo. I'm not real good at doing things without your mum. And if you don't make it, I don't think I'll ever get her back. So please, be brave and brilliant like your mummy and fight. I know you can do it."

With that one sentence, Ron kept vigil by his son's side, waiting for one of the many machines to beep, to sound the alarm that would signal his imminent death. After the first two hours, Ron sprinted back to Hermione's room to check on her, but the floor nurse told him they had administered a sedative… just in case.

After six more hours of keeping watch, the doctors who first broke the news were back for their next shifts.

"Mr. Weasley, your son is quite the little fighter. His breathing has improved remarkably. He looks out of the woods for now."

"Oh, thank Mer— thank you! I've got to go tell my wife," Ron nearly yelled.

When he pushed through the room red-faced and out-of-breath, Hermione immediately started sobbing "No, no, no."

Ron rushed over and put his hands on his wife's face, wiping her tears, "Hermione, he's alive! The doctor said he's out of the woods."

"What? He's really alive? Oh Ron!"

Ron leaned in to hug Hermione, and she clutched at him so fiercely he stumbled a bit. He put as much of his body on her bed as he could without crushing her. They cried and laughed, rejoicing in the small moment of peace… until Hermione cried out in pain. She had dislocated her shoulder from hanging onto Ron so hard. Ron felt awful just looking at her, but Hermione somehow continued to beam, even when the orthopedist came in to reset it.

"No more bone-crushing hugs, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley," the doctor said with an amused smirk.

"It was absolutely worth it," she replied.

Friday, 13th June, 2008

"What are these over here?" Arthur piped up, walking toward the light box on the wall.

"ThankMerlinforDad," Ron thought.

"Oh, those are my X-rays." Hermione said.

His Mum and Dad, along with Harry and a very pregnant, very irritated Ginny had finally come for a visit. But barely a word had been spoken since everyone walked in the room

Arthur looked closely at the glowing film, "Are they pictures of your bones?"

"Yes." Hermione nodded, "The one on the left is what my pelvis looked like right after the accident, and the one on the right shows the pins that I just had put in last week."

"Pictures of your bones," Arthur marveled, "and they don't even have to take them out of your body?"

She smiled, "No, it's a special kind of camera."

"That's fascinating. Those screws do look awfully painful though."

Approaching the bed, Molly let out a sad sigh and started, "Hermione, my dear g-g-gi," but she choked on a sob just as she reached Hermione's side.

"Oh Molly," Hermione extended her hands to cover her concerned mother-in-law's shaking fists. "I know it sounds kind of frightening, but there isn't really much to worry about; they're taking very good care of Hugo and me," Hermione reassured her.

"My dear girl," Molly whispered. "How long until you're well?"

"Well, I don't suppose I'll be walking for at least another month, possibly two."

"Have you absolutely lost your mind?" Ginny, who had remained uncharacteristically silent, shrieked from the corner

"Ginny-" Harry pleaded.

"No! She is being ludicrous!" she rounded back at Hermione. "What are you doing?"

"If the baby can't be moved to have magical treatment, then I won't have it either," Hermione responded.

"That's not logical! Stop being such a martyr! You think this is being a good mother? Choosing to lie in bed all day while your sick baby needs you? Not to mention a daughter who is being passed around from house to house like some sort of orphan-"

"That's enough!" Ron and Molly roared.

A look of shock washed over Ginny's features, and she pressed her hands to her face, turned and quickly darted out of the room.

"I'm so sorry," Harry apologized to the room and followed Ginny into the hall.

Ron was ready to chase after her himself and let her have a piece of his mind. How dare she talk to Hermione as if she had any idea how helpless they felt - the severity of the constant pain Hermione was in, not to mention the fact they'd almost lost their son just three nights ago. He turned instead to look at Hermione. She looked sad, but not in the hurt, insulted way that he would have expected. She looked disappointed. She'd expected them to understand. Ron realized that he'd always known they wouldn't. If he was honest, he didn't completely understand her decision either.

But then his mother sat gently on the edge of Hermione's bed and tenderly brushed a flyaway curl from Hermione's forehead. "Hermione," she said softly, but firmly, keeping her eyes locked on Hermione's, "I think you're incredibly brave. And you are a wonderful mother."

"Ginny will come round," Arthur added unexpectedly. "She's just frightened for you, and she desperately wants her friend - no, her sister - to get better."

He placed his hand on top of Molly and Hermione's clasped hands. "Maybe we can go meet our newest grandson now, Ron?"

Hermione lit up suddenly, "Oh, please do! And Ron, will you bring the camera my mum brought? I need to see if he's changed since yesterday."

Ron picked up the tiny camera off of the side table and kissed her head, "Of course." As they exited the room, Arthur asked quietly, "Is that a digeradoo camera?"

"Dad, it's called digital. C'mon, I'll let you take a picture of Mum and the baby."

Sunday, 15th June, 2008

Ron was very much looking forward to today. Hermione's parents had taken the weekend off to drive up and bring Rosie in to see them. The Grangers had been immensely helpful in the previous days, speaking with the doctors on the telephone when Ron didn't understand and taking care of Rose whenever they could.

When Ron met them out in front of the hospital, Rose started flailing in her grandmother's arms and when she set her down, Rose started sprinting as fast as her tiny legs could carry her. Ron scooped her up in his arms and instantly felt better. "Let's get you upstairs." Ron said kissing her cheek loudly, "Mummy is so excited to see you."

He set Rose down gently on Hermione's bed and she immediately snuggled into her side. Hermione wrapped one arm around her and pressed her lips to the top of her head. "Oh, I'm so happy you're finally here." She mumbled into her hair.

When she sat up Ron saw her quickly wipe a tear from her eye before smiling brilliantly, "What did you do today, Rosie?"

"Watch crickets." she replied.

"Ron, she means to say cricket – the sport, not the insects," Mr. Granger clarified.

Hermione looked up at her mother, astonished. "She's speaking so clearly!"

"We've been reading to her all the time. Just like with you." Mrs. Granger smiled.

Hermione turned back to Rose, "Do you like to watch cricket?" she asked with laughter in her voice that made Ron feel warm from head to toe.

Rose simply nodded before popping her thumb in her mouth and settling against her mother.

And for just a few beautiful hours they were a family again. Hermione smiled and laughed while Rose continued to chatter away, pointing at everything in the books Hermione read to her.

When her parents stepped out for tea, Hermione beckoned Ron closer and kissed him. He felt dizzy, like he used to back when they would just snog for hours.

"Mummy kiss Daddy!" Rose said happily.

"Yes, Rosie, she did," Ron replied, just as happily.

But then, Hermione looked at the clock, "It's about the end of visiting hours"

All at once Ron could feel the weight of ten days without sleep sink into his muscles. He took a deep breath and tried to soak in the last of a beautiful day before it went back another night alone.

Hermione kissed Rose's bouncy red hair, and started collecting all the books and toys that were strewn within arms-reach on her hospital bed. "Time to go home with Nana and Grandpa, Rosie," she put a stack of small cardboard books into Rose's backpack, "And tomorrow Uncle Harry is going to come round to get you and you can play with Al and Jamie."

Rosie kept her focus on her teddy bear, "You come too Mummy," she said matter-of-factly.

Hermione reached out to push her little girl's curls off of her forehead, "No darling, Mummy can't come."

Rose's immediate cry of "No!" crescendoed quickly. Hermione used all of her strength and her good arm to pull Rosie against her lap. Despite her struggle to comfort the child, she continued to wail.

Ron's patience began to quickly wear away. "Hermione, that grumpy night nurse has walked past three times already."

Mr. Granger took the lead, "Yes, we really should be going. Want to make it back to home by dark." He stepped forward to kiss Hermione on the temple, "I'll bring the car around."

He puttered out of the room and Ron moved to take Rose from Hermione. His toddler had tucked her head under Hermione's chin. Even though one of them was quite hysterical and had most of her fingers shoved in her mouth, they were looking up at him with the exact same eyes. He sighed as he pulled his daughter into his arms. "Come on, Rosie."

"Nooo! Mummy!" she began again.

"I know, sweetheart, I know. But Mummy can't go with you."

He walked quickly to where Mrs. Granger was standing by the door and tried to set Rose down next to her, but she kicked her legs and shrieked.

"You're not going to walk with me love?" Mrs. Granger tried to coax sweetly. But Rose cried harder and shook her head furiously.

"I'll walk her down to the car for you." Ron offered in defeat.

Rose was throwing herself around and kicking but her small fists gripped Ron's shirt desperately. "Mummmeeeee" she yelled even louder as Ron made his way for the door. She reached over Ron's shoulders for Hermione, her breath coming in deep sobs in between her screams.

"Ron! Bring her back to me!" Hermione shouted over the noise with a hint of desperation in her voice.

But Ron's patience had run out completely. "No, Hermione. She's only going to keep getting more hysterical the longer she's in here."

The words sounded so much angrier coming out of his mouth than he'd intended. He was about to start sputtering a half-assed apology when he felt Mrs. Granger place a hand on his arm, "Take her outside. The fresh air might help calm her." She smiled reassuringly.

The entire lift ride Rosie continued to lose it. She wailed unintelligible pleas in his ears, and when Ron swore he heard a distinct "please daddy" strung in between the other babbled cries, he felt his heart sink deep into the pit of his stomach. When they reached a bench outside of the hospital entrance she sank deeper into Ron's chest, where a large wet circle of tears began to soak through the left side of his shirt. Her cries of "Mummy" had subsided into a steady sound of "mmmm" interrupted frequently by hiccupy sobs.

Ron lifted her from under her arms and sat her down on his lap facing him. He wiped her tears from her cheeks with his thumbs. "Come on now. No more crying. We talked about this, Rosie. Mummy and baby Hugo don't feel well, and they have to stay here until they're all better. We'll all be together soon, all right?" He lowered his face to hers, "You're gonna be a big girl, right?"

She nodded slightly.

"Do you know how much I love you?"

Rose moved one of her arms slightly, but stayed slumped in his lap.

"Aw, come on." He bounced his knees, "How much does Daddy love you?"

"This much." She said holding her arms out wide.

He tickled her sides and covered her neck in raspberries as she flailed around, laughing loudly.

Mr. Granger's car pulled up beside them just as Mrs. Granger came out of the front entrance.

"She okay?" Ron asked, standing from the bench with a now calm Rose in his arms.

"She'll be fine. But you should go back in to see her."

"Yeah. Of course I will."

Back in Hermione's room, all of the lights were off except for the small reading one above her bed. Hermione was sobbing, with a small brown bit off fluff in her hands.

"Rosie left her bear," she choked out.

Ron went to her bedside and held her face, so he could look directly into her eyes. "That's all right. We'll just have to bring her back soon so you can give it to her."

"We're missing everything Ron," she whispered.

He reached out to rub her arm, "All you have to do is say the word, and Claire and I can make sure you're transferred to St. Mungo's."

She sat silent for a long moment, staring at his fingertips tracing her wrist. "I can't leave him here alone."

He nodded and started to get off of the bed when she let out a loud wail, "She's going to hate me! For the rest of her life." She shook with deep sobs, "She's going to hate me because I abandoned her."

"You didn't abandon anyone, Hermione." Ron tried, unsure if he could have another conversation like this. "Rosie is going to be fine. She's being taken care of by people who love her. That's what matters, isn't it?"

"But we should be the ones taking care of her Ron!" she shouted.

He stood up from the bed, defeated. "I don't know what you want me to do Hermione. I'm trying the best I can." His voice broke and he stared at the floor.

The night nurse burst in the door, "It's lights out, Mr. Weasley. Are you staying the night with the Mrs. or not? Either way, I can't have you disrupting the other patients"

Ron looked at Hermione, but she was looking at the wall. He started backing out of the room slowly, hoping that she'd ask him to turn around, so he could curl up in that awful chair and maybe get some sleep with her next to him.

But she didn't, and the walk back to the inn felt longer than it ever had.

Thursday, 19 June, 2008

Ron arrived at the hospital an hour earlier than Hermione told him to. She was getting out of traction, and the orthopedists were putting new casts and braces on her legs. She was finally going to be able to get out of bed and into a wheelchair to see Hugo.

It had been a particularly rough week. Since Rose's visit on Sunday Hermione's moods had been completely unpredictable.

Monday his sisters-in-law arrived and fussed over Hermione and took turns visiting Hugo the entire day. Fleur brought him three quiches, saying "If there's anything worse than English food, it's Irish food," with a wink. Near the end of visiting hours, Angelina mused over how much the cousins complained about Rose missing Sunday dinner at the Burrow, and Hermione burst into tears. "What did I say?" she whispered to Ron, who had to explain that Rose's visit had ended in mother-and-daughter sobs. Audrey replied that mother-and-daughter tears had been witnessed at the Burrow as well, but Fleur narrowed her eyes at Audrey, and interrupted, "Hermione, Hugo is such a little doll. The girls can't wait to meet him." But Hermione was too emotional to talk, and eventually the three Weasley wives kissed their Hermione good-bye and attacked Ron with tearful hugs.

Tuesday Hermione had cried on the phone to her mum all morning, refusing to let him in her room. For the first time since their arrival in Ireland, Ron had apparated back to their house, where he sat on the floor of their bedroom and wondered if they'd ever make it back home.

Wednesday however, Hermione was bright and cheery, looking forward to seeing the baby. So this morning as Ron approached her room, he wished he'd have a positive Hermione around today. When he came in, he was surprised to find her already sitting in a wheelchair by the door.

"Ron! I got to wash my own hair!" she exclaimed giddily as soon as she saw his face. "Claire helped me lean over the tub. I feel so much better."

He shook off his disappointment and smiled back at her, "That's brilliant. You look gorgeous." He kissed her cheek.

"I doubt that, but today I'll take the compliment," she replied brightly. "I know I should have waited for you to get in the wheelchair, but I wanted to surprise you."

She really did look better out of bed. She was in a fancy wheelchair with a big platform that held up her heavily bandaged leg, a soft blanket his Mum had knitted and sent with Fleur was draped over her lap. She was nervously drumming her fingers on the chair, and Ron knew she would bounce up and down if she could. "Actually, I'm more surprised that you're not already on the neonatal floor," he said seriously.

"Oh, Ron, I'm so nervous. I couldn't go without you. I want Hugo to see both of us together. Will you take me to him now, please?"

"Are you ready to meet your son, Mrs. Weasley?

"More ready than I've ever been."

"All right then everyone," Ron suddenly noticed Claire standing on the other side of the room, she knelt down to fiddle with the brakes on Hermione's wheelchair, "Let's get going then,"

It had taken quite a bit of maneuvering to get Hermione and her large wheelchair carefully across the neonatal unit. Ron noticed her nervously biting her lower lip the moment they'd come through the door. He reached down for her hand just before they reached Hugo, "It's gonna be all right," he reassured her.

She nodded and took a deep breath.

"Well, here he is." Claire said quietly, pulling Hermione around the side of one of the incubators.

Ron squeezed her hand harder as she lifted her neck to peer inside. He saw an immediate jolt of shock flash across her eyes at how small he really was. Then it softened to a much more intense, loving stare. "Hello, Hugo." she said quietly. "It's Mummy here. I'm so happy to meet you." She cooed sweetly, though Ron could hear how gravelly her voice was becoming, " I'm so glad you're here, and that you've been so, so brave."

"Just like his mum," Ron piped up.

"Am I allowed to I touch him?" she asked hopefully.

"Of course!" Ron answered, reaching for the bottle of the cold clear gel on the shelf, "You have to put this stuff on first. It's like special soap or something."

"It's sanitizer. So we don't spread germs." She explained, rubbing a small amount on her palms.

"Yeah, I knew that." He smirked shyly and quietly pulled up a chair to sit behind her.

She reached inside the incubator through one of the small round openings in the side. Ron watched as she gently grazed the back of her fingers against Hugo's arm, which wasn't much bigger than one of Ron's fingers. They sat quietly for a long time, and Ron couldn't take his eyes off her. He caressed the curls at the nape of Hermione's neck while she carefully touched a fingertip to each of their son's miniature fingers and toes.

"I can't wait to hold you." he heard her whisper after some time, tracing her fingers tenderly against his tiny wrist.

Hermione was strangely quiet on the way back to her room. As Ron pushed her along, he was relieved she had finally been able to touch Hugo.

As they crossed the threshold into her room, Ron clicked the door shut and was about to tell Hermione how much he loved her when her voice, unnaturally monotonous, interrupted his thoughts.

"Ron, you're a Weasley."

"Sorry?"

"You're a Weasley, and you come from a large family, and we planned on a large family."

"Well, we never wanted as many children as Mum and Dad."

"I'll understand if you don't want me anymore. Now that I'm… ruined,." she whispered staring at the floor.

He raised his voice then, frustrated and overwhelmed "Why would you ever say something like that Hermione? Do you even hear yourself? You aren't ruined!"

"I can't have any more of your children, Ron! You're a Weasley! You're meant to have more babies!"

"I don't need any more babies, I need you! Do you have any idea how lucky I feelwhen I wake up every morning and you and Rose are still there? And now we've got little Hugo, and he needs us Hermione." Hot tears formed in his eyes and his chest tightened as he tried to speak, "I love you and the children so much…" he trailed off in attempt to swallow the large lump stuck in his throat.

When he found his voice it emerged in a shaky croak, "You almost bled to death right in front of me, Hermione. I thought I was going to lose you. How could you even think I wouldn't want you? You're the first and only woman I've ever wanted!"

"I know that, II do. But I'm not thinking logically. I can know and feel your love, but I'm still so scared that I've let you down somehow," she said.

"But you haven't. You survived, and Hugo survived, and that's all I care about. Two children seems more than enough right now," he countered.

"But, but, there are other side effects to a hysterectomy. They might make me less desirable," she squeaked nervously.

"That's just not possible," Ron proclaimed. "You can barely move, and if I could somehow assure that it wouldn't literally break you in bits, I'd take you right now on that hospital bed."

"Honestly?" she said, looking him straight in the eyes.

Ron knelt next to the wheelchair and tenderly rubbed Hermione's cheek. "Honestly, it's downright inappropriate how often I've wanted you, how much I miss you," he whispered, and then kissed her delicately on the lips. "Does that settle it?"

"Kiss me again, and it does"

Saturday, 21 June, 2008

He'd completely blown it with the news that Harry and Ginny were parents again. Ron had congratulated Harry, who'd called his room at the inn at half 7. But when Harry asked whether he should ring Hermione, Ron said he'd tell her in person when he got to the hospital.

Several hours later, Ron finally managed it."Ginny had the baby this morning. It's a girl."

"This morning? Why didn't you tell me? That's wonderful! They finally got their Lily," Hermione said in a jumbled rush. "Are you going to go see them today?"

"I dunno," he shrugged weakly, "I'd like to see Harry and the baby, but do you think I should?"

"What about Ginny? She's your sister, Ron. If you expect me to resent her for having a healthy baby, I don't. Harry's our best friend, and you need to go meet our new niece."

"Well what if I do resent them a bit?"

"Ron, don't say that. You can't be angry with Harry and Ginny because of what's happened to us. It's got nothing to do with them, and definitely not the baby."

"I can't help it. I love them, but why can't I be angry at her for treating you that way?"

"Do NOT use me as an excuse, Ron. Yes, Ginny's attitude did hurt, but I said awful, hormonal things too when I was that pregnant. Remember when I yelled at your Mum? Ginny loves us, and I'll, I'll… not have you acting selfishly when you've got a baby to meet and a best friend to pat on the back."

Ron remained less certain of Apparating back to England to face his entire family. It was one thing to see them at the hospital, although Ginny hadn't returned after that first disastrous visit. But going to St. Mungo's to see all of them cooing over Lily while Hermione and Hugo were stuck here seemed impossible.

Hermione lost her patience and yelled, "What are you waiting for?

"I just can't see any healthy baby right now, especially theirs," he yelled back.

"What does that even mean? Just go! They're waiting for you, I'm sure of it. And you should fetch Rose from my parents' house, so she can meet Lily too."

"I can't, Hermione. I honestly can't right now. Another time. They'll undersand."

"Fine, then, Ron, I don't care at the moment what you do. I'm going to sleep, I'm exhausted," she said defeatedly.

Once she shut her eyes and turned her face away from him, Ron decided what he needed was a drink and went to the pub he'd frequented with George and Harry during their visits. But he couldn't even bring himself to down the beer he ordered,. Instead, he just stared into his pint and lost himself in a swirl of conflicting emotions.

Then the new mobile from Mrs. Granger that Hermione insisted he carry started to ring in his pocket.

"Hermione, seizure." Those were the only two words he could think of as he sprinted back to the hospital.

When he reached Hermione's door he found Claire standing outside of it.

"What happened?" he asked, completely out of breath.

"It was a reaction to the new pain medication she was on. But we fixed the dosage, she'll be all right."

"The medicine did this?" Ron asked, bewildered.

"Well, the doctors were trying something else since she's been so miserable. There was something in it that she's clearly allergic to. But she won't be administered that particular drug again."

"What do you mean, miserable?"

"She's in constant pain. Haven't you heard her scream or cry in her sleep? She's asked for stronger pain relief drugs "

Ron stared at her, unable to process much of anything. "She hasn't mentioned that. She hasn't said anything about the pain.." He said quietly.

"Mr. Weasley, I may be out of bounds here, but I'm sure she wants to put a brave front for you. Whenever you're visiting Hugo or return to the inn, she goes on about how strong you're being for her and the baby, and how she needs to be strong too," Claire confessed. "Look, she's asleep. You can go in and see her if you'd like."

He turned on his heels without another word. He didn't want to sit in a dark room all night watching his wife breathe while his heart pounded uncontrollably in his chest.

The moment the cold night air hit his face, he fell down right there in the carpark. He sat on the ground and just sobbed. Every bit of emotion he'd been keeping carefully tucked away for Hermione's sake was poured out of him. After a few minutes of letting everything out he carelessly Apparated on the spot and stumbled onto the pavement outside the Granger residence. He knocked loudly on the door and shuffled around the front step, trying to contain the breath that only came in choked sobs.

Mrs. Granger opened the door in her dressing gown. "Ron? Are you all right? Is Hermione all right?"

He shrugged. His hands stuffed deep into his pockets.

"I need to see Rose" he croaked, "I can't be alone. And I-" he began mercilessly chewing on his bottom lip, embarrassed that he was clearly about to break down again.

Mr. Granger had appeared behind his wife and placed his hands on her shoulders, "Just let the man in, Gemma." He pulled the door open further. "She's in Hermione's old room Ron."

"Thank you." He rushed past them up the stairs. When he'd reached the end of the hall he braced himself against the doorframe and furiously tried to wipe the tears from his face and get his breathing under control.

When he opened the door he could see a small lumpy shadow in the middle of Hermione's bed. He felt a sudden sense of comfort in seeing the familiar lace canopy blowing gently in the breeze from the open window. He walked quietly to one side of the bed and before he could sit, Rose popped up from under the covers.

"Hi Daddy!" she squeaked, bouncing on the bed in her blue "Crookshanks" pajamas.

He couldn't help but smile, "What are you doing awake you little monkey?" he scooped her into his arms and sat down on the bed.

She shrugged, an innocent look on her face.

"Well come on, lie down." Ron lay on his side next to her and tucked her back into bed. "What did you do today?"

"Cricket." She said

"You really like cricket? Isn't it boring?"

She shook her head.

"Well, Daddy is going to take you to a quidditch game when you're bigger and you'll forget all about silly cricket. Okay?"

"I forget it." she said simply before popping her thumb into her mouth.

Ron had to laugh, "Wow, you really can talk now can't you?" he tried to rest his head against the pillow, but he suddenly thought of Hermione. "Can you teach Mummy to talk to me?" he scoffed bitterly,

Why was Hermione hiding things from him?

"Ni-night Daddy." Rosie's small voice said on the other side of the bed.

He was exhausted, and his head was pounding. Tonight he could sleep, he wasn't alone. He had a small piece of the life he had been missing for just a moment. Why hadn't he sought his sweet daughter's comfort earlier? He could have been tucking her into bed every night if he had timed it right. Being here with her helped him imagine that his family would be happy and healthy and whole again someday. Ron had thought he could keep it all under control himself, but he wasn't in charge. They had become slaves to medicine and time. All he could do at this moment was stare at his little girl as her little eyelashes fluttered shut.

They still had each other.

Wednesday, 2 July, 2008

As soon as Ron had left Hermione's room that evening, he decided to finally go and see his sister and his best friend. He was sitting with Harry in the dining room while his mum was busy cooking dinner. Ginny was upstairs with baby Lily, every once and awhile Rose and his nephews came bursting through the door running around the table and shrieking before rushing off somewhere else.

"I just don't know what's going on with her lately." Ron confessed, "She doesn't tell me anything. Every time one of her doctors comes in she makes me leave the room. What are they telling her? What if she's getting worse or something and she just doesn't want to tell me."

"She wouldn't do that." Harry said

"But she did, she did do it two weeks ago and the bloody medicine almost killed her." Ron sighed heavily, "I just can't figure out why she's hiding. I know the answer is usually, 'Ron, you're being an arse.' But this time I really feel like I'm trying to do the right thing."

"Ooooh!" Jamie scolded from under the table, "Bad words!"

"No cursing in the house Uncle Ron." Ginny said as she appeared in the doorway."I've just gotten off the phone with Hermione. She says the baby is beautiful and she doesn't know how they all manage to have your eyes" she said kissing Harry's head on her way to her chair at the table.

"How did Hermione see the baby?"

"We've been sending pictures on our mobiles! It's really neat."

"You two are speaking again?"

Ginny looked confused, "Yes, didn't she tell you?"

Ron looked at Harry, "See? This is what I mean!" he turned back to Ginny, "Sorry I was a git when I came in then. I guess I didn't know I'd been apologized to."

"I really am sorry Ron. I shouldn't have said any of the things that I did. I was really hormonal and scared for you. I thought that magical treatment was the best option, but I didn't understand Hugo's condition." She sighed, "I should've apologized sooner, but I was kind of embarrassed about being so rude and I figured you wouldn't want to talk to me."

"S'alright I suppose." Ron shrugged, he reached under the table and pulled Rose onto his lap. "Were you tying my shoelaces together?" he asked her with a small laugh.

"No. I didn't." She said resolutely.

Ron turned back to Harry, bouncing Rose on his knee, "So, what do I do? How do I fix it?"

"I dunno, I guess you have to try to talk to her. See if she'll open up."

"Don't push her Ron," Ginny chimed in, "She'll come round eventually."

"I just don't want to lose her." Ron admitted quietly.

"You aren't going to lose her. She just feels out of control. You know she's never been good at that." He kindly slapped Ron on the back, "You two are rubbish without each other, and I know you'll figure something out."

Tuesday, 8 July, 2008

It had been 6 weeks since the accident. Hermione and Hugo were both healing slowly but steadily. Hermione had three more surgeries, and Hugo had one. Ron spent most of his time running back and forth between the two of them. He tried to go fetch Rosie or have someone bring her in as often as possible. Spending time with her always improved Hermione's spirits There was an unfortunate week at the end of June when Rose had a constantly running nose and couldn't come to the hospital at all. The doctors said Hugo was too fragile, and they wouldn't be able to see him if they'd had any contact with Rose. Hermione didn't take that very well. She said she didn't like having to choose between her children. Ron had made a joke that at least they wouldn't be covered in bogies since Rose had such a lovely habit of wiping her nose on their clothing. But Hermione had only stared daggers at him. His Mum hadn't been able to make it back again, because she had been busy helping out Ginny. But she had sent packages of letters and homemade sweets with George, Arthur and the sisters-in-law, all of whom took turns visiting.

He had gone into the Auror's office only once, to formalize his open-ended leave, and worked two shifts at the Wheezes. Hermione insisted it was good for him, but he felt he was letting her down by not being there with them, especially during those brief moments he was so busy he'd forget he was returning to a hospital, not a home.

This morning he was bringing Hermione a big roll of parchment that her department had sent her. She wasn't able to do any in depth work due to her condition, but some of her colleagues knew that as long as her sight work, she could read and consult on a few major cases.

"Here you are." he said setting the sack down and kissing her cheek.

"Thank you so much for bringing me these, Ron," she said, quickly transfiguring each large scroll into a shiny black binder."It's really nice to have something to do all day."

Ron sat down in the chair next to her and started to look for that car magazine he'd swiped from the waiting room. He wasn't ready to learn how to drive, especially now that he was living in the aftermath of a car crash. But he still found himself fascinated with the pictures of shiny metal and trying to figure out through the foreign words exactly how an engine even worked. It wasn't on the night table anymore, only a few of Hermione's books and a small stack of leaflets.

"What happened to the car magazine?" he whined slightly.

She smiled and scanned her work, "One of the nurse's took it back to the waiting room. Are you becoming obsessed with cars now Ron? I guess all men are the same," she giggled.

"I'm not obsessed. I just want to learn how the ones that don't fly run."

"You sound like your Dad."

Ron sighed and scooped up the leaflets, "I guess it's bound to happen. We all turn into our parents someday." He started to flip through the papers in his hands, which had titles like "What Does I.V.F. Mean for You?" and "How to Choose a Surrogate."

"What are these?"

"Just some literature my surgeon brought me to look at."

He turned one of the leaflets over in his hands, "What are they about?"

"Options for having another baby."

Ron looked nervous, "But I thought…"

"Well, I mean they only removed my uterus. I still have my other reproductive organs – my cervix, ovaries, fallopian tubes. They have this procedure where they can take my eggs and your sperm and fertilize the eggs."

"Then where does the baby grow? In a jar?" Ron laughed, scanning the large words on the page.

"No, then we could hire a surrogate to carry the baby for us, or ask a friend or relative I suppose, although I imagine that can be awkward."

"Wait, you mean put our baby into someone else to give birth to it, and then pay them for it?"

"Essentially that's how it works, yes… Unless we ask someone close to us."

"That's barmy Hermione."

"Don't you want more children?"

"Not like that, I don't!" he scoffed.

She looked hurt and turned her attention back to her work.

Ron sat forward and put the leaflets back on the table, "You're honestly telling me that none of this sounds completely insane to you?"

"I found out magic was real when I was eleven."

"We haven't been able to even take care of the baby we already have, and you're asking the doctors about crazy ways to go about getting another one! This conversation is ridiculous," he snapped.

"I'm sorry that you think I'm so ridiculous." She snapped back, her jaw tight.

"I just don't know why this is so important to you Hermione. I told you I'm happy with the two we've got."

"I feel like a failure Ron!" she shouted, crumpling into tears.

He waited quietly, unsure of what to say that wouldn't make things worse.

She continued to cry quietly for a few minutes and Ron just stroked her arm, "it's just-" she sniffled and traced her fingers mindlessly around the edge of the binder in her lap, "It wasn't supposed to go this way."

"Of course it wasn't Hermione. No one could have known-"

"I wanted to hold him right when he was born." She interrupted him, "I wanted to feed him at my breast. I wanted to fall asleep just looking at him. And be there when he cries." She broke down again for a moment and Ron looked at the floor, trying to keep himself together. "I'm not able to be a good mum. And I'm never going to get that chance again."

"But we have a chance right now, Hermione." Ron got up and sat on the edge of her bed, "Hugo is going to be well soon. We'll get to take him home and he'll be ours forever. Nothing is ruined, you aren't a failure. We're just getting started." He tilted her face to look at him, "Nothing is your fault. Absolutely nothing. Just please. Don't fall apart on me."

She took a deep breath and squeezed his hand. "Do you think we could go up and see Hugo now?"

He kissed her head and got up to fetch her wheelchair, "I think that's a brilliant idea."

Ron wasn't sure how he could make Hermione understand that she was all he needed; that as long as they were together they would be fine. Whatever he was going to do, he needed to figure it out soon before he lost her to her own insecurity.

Friday, 11 July, 2008

Ron knocked softly on Hermione's door before entering with two paper cups of tea. "Good morning love."

Hermione closed the novel she was reading and placed it on the ever-growing stack on her night table, "Good morning." She looked almost half her size with the sudden lack of casts on her bottom half.

He kissed her cheek and handed her the tea, "Are you ready to start your physical therapy today?"

"I suppose so" she shrugged.

"What's the matter? I thought you were excited yesterday."

"It's just… learning to walk all over again. It's going to be so difficult. I can barely bend my knees."

"Hermione, it's not like anyone's going to yank you out of your wheelchair and demand you skip around the room." He took her hand and smiled gently, "Come on. You've never been scared of a challenge. Don't you want to go in there and prove to all the other patients that you'll get top marks in walking?"

She cracked a smile and Ron felt satisfied. It was strange, having to be the one who pushed, kept her confidence up. But he appeared to be making progress in the last few days.

She took a few sips of her tea before setting it on the table. "Well," she asked in a small voice, "can you help me get dressed?"

Ron jumped to his feet, "Of course, what husband would I be if I couldn't?" he said with a cheeky grin. He walked to her open suitcase, started rifling through her clothes and asked, "What would you like to wear?"

"Those black yoga bottoms and the purple blouse in your left hand please."

When he approached the bed with clothes in hand, he suddenly felt very nervous. She looked up at him with an equal amount of worry on her face.

"Just," she chewed mercilessly on her lip, "promise not to stare or anything."

"Witch, if there's one thing I know how to do it's get your clothes off!" he interjected, trying to cut the heavy tension in the air

The smile was tugging at her lips again when she started to shrug off her hospital gown. She flinched when she tried to untie the bow at her neck.

"Let me do that."

He pulled the knot loose and the gown fell, exposing her bare torso. He immediately and unsurprisingly stared directly at her breasts. Even though there were bruises spread across her left side that were fading into shades of green and yellow, Ron still couldn't figure out what he wasn't supposed to be staring at. True, she hadn't lost any pregnancy weight being bedridden for so long, but he'd never complained at her being a bit rounder. She was soft, and round, and lovely. She was mental. There wasn't a thing to be embarrassed about.

He slipped the blouse over her head and helped work her still sore shoulder through the sleeve.

"Trousers now, I guess." He said flipping the ball of material in his hands, "unless you'd rather walk around bottomless." He pulled the covers back in one swoop.

Ron didn't mean to yelp the way he did. It all made sense. She'd been sending him on errands outside of the room for weeks because of this.

Along the length of her thigh there was a cut, at least 10 inches long, held together with black thread and ominous pieces of metal. Her leg was purple and misshapen from swelling. The sight made his stomach seize up in pain.

"I asked you not to stare." She said in a small voice.

"No you didn't." he argued. "You didn't tell me anything."

"I don't want you to see me like this Ron."

"Tough shit."

She looked shocked, "What?"

"Why is it easier for you to push me away than tell me what you're going through?" he sighed heavily, "Do you think I can't handle this or something? That I couldn't possibly understand you? I'm trying Hermione. I'm trying so hard. I've been here every single day just waiting for you to let me help you.. It's been six weeks! Why was it only three days ago that you started talking to me about how you're feeling? I'm going through this too you know."

"Yes, because of me!" she snapped.

"Don't start that again! That's not what I'm saying!" he rubbed his hands over his face in frustration before looking her square in the eye, "If you've just been expecting me to read your mind, I don't know where you got that idea. I've always been crap at Legilimency, and I wouldn't dare use it on you even if I wasn't. So please, if you would. Indulge me.."

She took a deep breath, "I'm supposed to be the one who knows what to do all the time. I didn't know what to do six weeks ago. I was in pain and I was terrified. I know that maybe I should have just gone to St. Mungo's that night and come back healthy a few days later. But then I realized I couldn't just show up here two days later after almost bleeding out and shattering all my bones. I couldn't figure out how to do it and still be allowed to see Hugo. I was so desperate I thought of using the Ministry's reserves of Polyjuice to pretend I was one of the other women in the family, but that was mad. After he stabilized I wondered if he could be transferred to a hospital in England while I actually went to St. Mungo's, but by then I had grown to respect my doctors, and the baby was finally thriving in the peds unit …"

"You really thought of all that?" Ron asked, still bewildered at the way her mind worked.

She nodded, "But mostly, I didn't say or do anything because it didn't seem fair. And I suppose I thought I deserved it. And don't say it wasn't my fault, I know. I'm just trying to communicate. I didn't know what the right way to handle this was, and I guess I didn't want you to worry about me anymore than you did."

"It's okay that sometimes you don't know what to do. Because then I just might. I know I didn't this time, but I could have tried to help you if you'd let me."

"I'm sorry. I should have been more honest with you."

"You know we work best together, and I want to help you. We need each other."

"I love you, Ron."

He hadn't heard her say it in a long time. The words almost sounded new, and they filled him with hope and warmth.

"I love you too Hermione."

She shivered slightly on the bed in just her T-shirt and knickers.

"Should we put your trousers on now?"

She nodded.

Ron carefully grabbed her around the waist. "Okay, I'm gonna turn you this way. Are you ready?"

She gripped her hand on the bedrail and Ron gently put a hand under her knee. Together they quickly turned her to face the bedside. Ron carefully let her legs hang off the side of the bed in front of her. Hermione took a deep breath and nodded to let him know she was all right.

Ron worked the baggy sweats easily over the boot on her foot and carefully over her other wounds. But when he reached her mid-thigh he couldn't go any further.

"All right, how should we do this? Do you want me to lift you and you can pull them up?"

She shook her head resolutely, "No. I can hoist an inch or two."

He smiled, "That's my girl." He kissed her forehead. "Okay, I'll be gentle; I promise."

"Hmmm. I've heard that before," she laughed.

He started counting, "One…" Hermione placed one hand firmly on Ron's shoulder, "Two…" Ron hooked his thumbs tightly into the waistband, "Three."

In one quick motion Hermione pulled herself up enough for Ron to get her trousers over her bum. When she crashed back down to the bed his hands got trapped under her.

They both stayed stock still for a moment, then Ron gave her arse a little squeeze.

"That doesn't hurt does it?"

His face was inches from hers.

"No."

"What about this?"

Ron leaned in and kissed her like he hadn't since the day Hugo was born. She let out a whimper and Ron fought the urge to crush her against him. He slid out of her sweats and gently moved his shaky hands up to caress the smooth skin of her back.

With an impeccable timing that only Harry seemed to possess, Hermione's new physical therapist burst into the room.

"Oh hello Mr. and Mrs. Weasley! Are you almost ready to go?"

Hermione turned over her shoulder keeping her arms wrapped around Ron, "I think we could use just a few more minutes."

The therapist smiled "Oh! Of course. Take your time."

Sunday, 13 July, 2008

Hermione was finally discharged from the hospital. Ron had offered to take them back home, but Hermione didn't feel right having the baby hundreds of miles away from her. So she was moving into the inn, and they would go pick up Rose after Hermione settled in.

"Well here it is." He said, gripping the door handle, "Home sweet home."

Hermione very slowly shuffled into the room very slowly with her walker, Ron followed closely with the wheelchair should she need to sit suddenly.

"It's surprisingly clean."

"I tried my best." Ron shrugged.

The room was tidy, but it did look lived in. Ron's shirts were hanging in the wardrobe, and there were pictures of Rose, Hermione and even baby Hugo in his isolette perched on the bureau..

"Well have a seat, I'm just gonna put a few things away. Fancy a nice dinner? We never actually had one, you know, before…"

"That would be lovely Ron" she smiled.

He was so happy to see her smiling again.

Ron stepped out from putting some of Hermione's things in the loo to find her still standing next to the bed, her hands gripped on the sides of her walker.

"Wow. Are you still standing there?" Ron walked closer and when she didn't reply he noticed her lips moving slightly. He folded his arms and paced around her slowly. "You're holding yourself up with magic aren't you?" he grinned.

"It feels so good to stand" she said rather quickly.

"Need me to catch you?"

"Yes please." She breathed, and in moment he had swept her up in his arms and laid her delicately across the bed. He immediately stretched out next to her on top of the quilt.

As they lay in bed together, Ron felt a familiar warmth overtake him. He froze, reveling in the feeling of sudden arousal.

"We still can't…" Hermione said.

"Oh I know. Trust me, I don't listen to half to things those doctors say but I remember that part."

They laughed a short moment until there was another long silence. Had they really forgotten how to be alone together like this?

"You know we could just snog… like when we first got together" she said with a playful smile, clearly reading his insecurity in his eyes.

"Well, if I recall correctly the 'just snogging' didn't last very long. I was never any good at keeping my hands to myself.," he replied huskily.

She looked slightly nervous, until he leaned in and kissed her bottom lip, "But I can try my hardest."

And then they were snogging. Really snogging. Ron felt an amazing rush at the feel of her soft lips sliding against his and her familiar scent all around him. He had completely lost himself in her, time didn't seem to be moving at all. His mind was completely clear, save for one thought. A constant chorus of "Hermione, Hermione, Hermione" was playing in an infinite loop in his head.

All of a sudden Hermione pulled back and yawned, quite loudly too. Ron snapped back to reality and said, "Are you tired?"

"Sorry," she frowned, "I just feel so comfortable and warm here with you."

He gave her a gentle squeeze and rubbed her back, "That's all right. It's just kind of funny," he began, "I took you to this place more than a month ago for a romantic dinner, and I'm starting to think I'll never get to."

"You can take me to dinner tomorrow." she promised with another yawn, snuggling deeper into his side. "But first we need to see Rosie in the morning. Take her to the park and to see Hugo."

"That'd be nice." He agreed, yawning as well. "Just promise me one thing Hermione."

"Mmhmm…" she said, her eyes closed.

"Don't ever make me eat in that bloody hospital cafeteria ever again."

"I promise."

Ron could barely remember closing his eyes, but the next thing he knew it was almost eleven in the morning and he and Hermione were just opening their eyes from a heavy slumber. Ron smiled and squinted at her in the bright light "I don't think I've slept that well in months" he leaned forward and kissed her lips, "I really missed waking up to you."

It was a small step, but Ron already felt like they were that much closer to having their life back.

Thursday, 17 July 2008

His palms were sweaty as they gripped the handles of the wheelchair. The bright yellow numbers above the door began to rise

3…

4…

They had taken this exact trip in this exact lift at least a hundred times by now, but it had never taken this long.

5…

"This lift is taking too bloody long!" Hermione shouted.

All the breath he didn't know he was holding in his chest burst out of him in a loud laugh.

"I'm sorry! I'm just so excited!" Hermione exclaimed, joining in his laughter.

Hugo was stable enough to be held, and his nurses expected they could take him home in a week or two. Since Ron and Hermione found out they'd be able to actually hold Hugo for the first time, they couldn't contain their excitement.

"Are you sure it's all right that I hold him first?" she asked when the doors finally opened.

"I've told you this is silly. I think after all that you've been through you more than deserve to go first."

All of the NICU nurses were smiling and excited to see them when they came through the door. Hugo's primary nurse was waiting by Hugo's incubator, a rocking chair now pulled up beside it. "You want to sit in the rocking chair love?" Ron asked with a grin.

She giggled, "Kind of. Help me?"

Ron came around to the front of Hermione's wheelchair and she gripped him tightly around his wrists. He helped her to a standing position and with a lot of support from Ron, she took a few slow, shaky steps forward before he quickly turned them around and helped her sit in the cushioned white chair.

He beamed down at her as soon as she'd sat down, "You're getting quite good at that."

She smiled back, catching her breath from the strenuous journey. "Thank you."

"Well are you ready?" the nurse asked.

"Yes!" they said together.

Hermione held her arms out expectantly, and the moment the nurse set the bundle in her arms everything went quiet.

"Hello Hugo." She whispered.

Ron knelt down beside them and reached out to touch his forehead along his little knit cap. A sense of calm spread over all of them.

They sat still for several silent minutes, watching as his green eyes blinked at them above the small tube that still ran under his nose.

"I don't ever want to put him down again," Hermione whispered.

"Oh, I think your arms will need a rest eventually," Ron said kissing her cheek, Hugo's small fist wrapped tightly around his finger. "But he's all ours now."

She rested her head against Ron's shoulder, "I can't wait to go home."

The nurse came up to observe the scene "It's really quite amazing how far he's come." she told them "The one thing I've learned working here is that a lot of love can works just like magic."

Ron and Hermione looked at each other and smiled, because it was something they were sure of.

5 June, 2009

"Muuummy…" Ron said in a quiet, high pitched voice, "Wake up mummy! It's my birthday!"

Hermione sleepily opened her eyes to see Ron standing above her, holding a giggling, drooling Hugo over her face.

"Birthday party!" Rose shrieked, jumping on the bed next to her mother.

Hermione sat up and kissed Ron before taking Hugo out of his arms, "Happy birthday big boy!" she squeezed him and kissed his round cheek. "What time will everyone be here?." she asked Ron.

"Mum already flooed this morning, said she'll be here at ten-thirty to start cooking. I thought I'd take these two out to the playground for a bit, keep them out of the way while you're getting things ready."

"That's very considerate Ron." She smirked. "Don't think I don't realize it gets you out of getting things ready."

"Yeah, you've got it. Go take a shower before mum gets here. We left you some breakfast on the table." He took Hugo back from her and tucked Rose under one arm, quickly walking toward the door.

"I'm on to you, but I still love you."

"Yeah…" he said, ducking out into the hall, "We'll see how you feel about that when you see the state of the kitchen. Bye!"

Ron sat on park bench, enjoying the view of Rose running in circles around her baby brother. Hugo sat happily on the grass and waved his hands at Rose, his eyes never leaving her.

He still couldn't quite believe it had been a whole year. There had been plenty of overwhelming joy, despite the early . The day they finally came in the door of their home, with both of their children. The first time Hermione walked across the physical therapy room without a walker or crutches. A few months ago when he finally got to bring Rose to a quidditch game. But, Ron had to admit that his favorite had been that Friday night late in August when he came home and found Hermione setting the table for two. Her hair looked shiny and her curls were smooth. She was wearing new trousers and a sly smile.

"Where are the kids?" he asked.

"I took them to the Burrow for the night." She set a fork down by one of the plates, "I went to see my doctors this morning-"

"Can we?" he shouted, interrupting her.

"Yes." She took a breath to keep speaking but Ron had quickly crossed the room and tossed her over his shoulder.

As he started for the stairs she lightly beat her fists on his back, "Ron! I made a really lovely dinner!"

He slapped her bum and continued up the stairs, "I'm hungry for something else entirely. In fact, I'm starving."

They ended up shagging nearly all night, just like their first night in the house was seven years earlier. At three a.m., when they were eating ice cream on the kitchen floor, they'd almost completely forgotten they had children.

But first thing in the morning, when they were sleepily staring at each other from across their pillows they spoke at the exact same time.

"It's too quiet in here."

"I miss my babies."

Hugo was a calm baby. He was much quieter than his sister and spent most of his time wide-eyed, observing everything around him. He was much smaller than his cousin Lily, but the doctors back at the hospital told them it would take a year or so for him to catch up to fullterm babies. The doctor even joked he'd probably end up taller than his father.

The baby had quickly become Rose's favorite plaything. Just the night before, Ron and Hermione had gone running down the hall at the sound of Hugo crying. They found him sitting in front of his sister on her bedroom floor, his arm and head awkwardly stuck in the neck hole of one of Rose's nicer dresses. Hermione had to explain to Rose that her brother wasn't a doll for her to dress up and play with however she wanted. She cried, "I wasn't trying to hurt him I. Just. Wanted. Hugo. To. Wear. His. Party. Dress!" They both had to cover their mouths to hide their laughter.

Hermione was constantly amazing him and he still fell in love with her several times a day. Her recovery had taken a few months, as always some days in physical therapy had been better than others. But she showed amazing strength that Ron admired so greatly. She insisted to everyone that now she felt better now than she ever had. He still sometimes caught her leaning against countertops and stopping to sit in the middle of chores. But she would always just smile and kiss him, her way of saying, "Don't worry about me Ron. I'm fine."

And she was. They were. Everything was fine.

Ron had gone and joined his children in the grass.

"Okay Rose go stand right there and catch him."

She scampered a few feet away and faced Ron and Hugo with her arms outstretched. Ron held Hugo's hands and stood him up on the grass, "Here he goes."

Hugo took two enthusiastic, wobbly steps before crashing down on his bum. Rose rushed forward and pulled him back to his feet, "That's alright Hugo. Try it again."

Just then Ron felt a now familiar buzz in his back pocket. He pulled out his mobile and saw Hermione's face flashing across the front.

"Hello?"

"Ron!" Hermione's frantic voice was on the other end, "I don't know how I did it, but I forgot to go get the birthday cake yesterday. Your mum wanted to make another one but there's no sugar anywhere in the house."

"Do you want me to get another cake or just get some sugar?"

"Just have him get the sugar dear! I make much better sweets than any store!" he heard his mum shouting in the background.

"Did you hear that?" Hermione asked.

"Yes, and I have to agree with her. We'll leave right now and stop in at the store on our way."

"Thank you Ron. I'm sorry for the trouble.""No problem, we were about to head home anyway. They both need a bath after rolling around in the grass. Love you. See you soon."

"Wait, Ron-" she interrupted before he could hang up.

"Yes love?"

"I'm really glad you figured out how to use your mobile."

Thanks again for reading! Remember to go check out the amazing art for the story by ~catching-smoke on deviantart! :o)