Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters belonging in the HP world. Unfortunately.

Ron pushed his front door open and sagged against the wall, attempting to pull off his work robes, before giving up entirely and dropping to the couch.

Hermione looked into the sitting room from the kitchen where she was battling with dinner. "Rough day?"

Ron just rubbed his hands on his face and grunted.

A frown of worry crossed Hermione's face before she wiped it away. "Well dinner's almost ready…I think…and food always helps."

Ron looked up gratefully before standing. "What are you making? Need help?"

Hermione walked back to the stove where she watched Mrs. Weasley's cooking charm in action. "Beef stew. I haven't really gotten the hang of these charms yet, so I'm not sure if it's done."

Ron leaned over her shoulder and took a whiff. "Smells done to me. Mum's charms are pretty handy. They could probably even make raw mushrooms taste good…" he trailed off and Hermione turned in time to see a shadow in Ron's eyes, but he shook in head quickly and smiled up at her. "Beef stew sounds delicious."

Hermione had decided to wait her boyfriend out. He would open up when he was ready. So they enjoyed a perfectly prepared dinner and she waited. And they sat down in front of the fire and she waited. And they discussed her job at the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures and she waited some more. Hermione had become an expert in waiting, especially when it came to Ron. She hated that she was so good at it – which was a first for her, really – but she had gotten used to Ron's job as an Auror taking him away for days, weeks, at a time. He was just finishing Auror Academy, so he would soon have more regular hours, and she was glad that there was an end to the waiting in sight.

Ron sighed and Hermione smiled. She knew her boyfriend well.

"Are you ready to tell me what happened?" She leaned back from where she was cuddled on his chest and looked into his eyes.

He looked down and played with her fingers. "Well it's getting to the end of our training, you know…"

She said nothing and waited for him to continue.

His gaze remained firmly in his lap. "So they're really cracking down because in a few weeks we'll be out in the real world."

Hermione pursed her lips and nodded.

"And today… well… today was preparing us for what could happen if we were captured."

Hermione's mouth dropped open, but Ron's voice was steady.

"And we were tortured."

Hermione blinked to keep the tears at bay. "Oh love, I'm so sorry…"

But he cut her off.

"They used the Cruciatus."

She jumped to her feet.

"Why didn't you tell me you were in pain? Come on, you can take a bath and then I can give you a massage, it really helps. I think we have some Dittany around here somewhere…"
Ron didn't move, instead pulling her back into his lap.

"That's not it."

"…what do you mean?"

"Hermione, I just can't…" he made a sound of irritation at his failure to grasp the words.

So she waited.

"It was worse than the worst pain I've ever felt times one hundred times and they only did it to us for a minute. Just one time."

She cocked her head, unsure of where he was going.

"But you. That bitch used it on you for so long. So many times. And you survived. And you're still…sane. And you were able to keep your head and lie to her. And save us."

He choked, and she put a hand to his face.

"Hermione, I am so in awe of you, and I'm so humbled that you're with me. And I love you so so much."

And this time, Hermione couldn't wait. She grabbed him, and smothered him, and didn't let go. And then she put her forehead against his and they both cried for the past that still had a grip on them.

"Hermione, love, I'm sure I can make it."

"Ronald Weasley I have already seen you Splinched once in my life and I never want to see that again. We are both intoxicated, and I don't trust either of us to Apparate safely home. We are going to catch the bus and that is that."

"You are the only person I know that can nag drunk just as well as you can sober."

"Do not start with me, Ron."

"I say it only in the most affectionate way possible, love."

He sat down next to her at the bus stop they were waiting at. "Any idea when the next bus comes?"

"No, and this is really all Harry's fault. He should have known when he picked a bar in the middle of nowhere that you were going to drink, and you were going to force me to drink –"

"I'm sorry, 'force you'?"

" – And we were going to end up stuck. But he left us. He abandoned his best friends in the whole world. That complete arse."

"Hermione!"

"What?"

"…nothing. Only that I just realized that you are the perfect woman for me."

"What do you mean? Ronald are you laughing? Stop laughing! We are completely stuck and waiting for a bus that is never going to come and you are laughing!"

"Oh Hermione, relax." He grabbed her and pulled her into his arms. "This is just what we do. We get ourselves in some ridiculous situation, and you freak out, and I make you angry, and then we laugh. That's just how we are."

She looked up at him, and then around at the empty road in the middle of nowhere.

And she relaxed, and they waited.

Hermione was bloody sick of waiting. Ron, opting to be the level-headed one in the situation, kept telling her that it was worth it, and that the ends would justify the means, and that the little bugger must just really like it in there.

Easy for him to say. He wasn't the one who was hot, and bloated, and so very, very pregnant.

As in, a week and a half past due.

She had been patient. She would bloody have to be, wouldn't she? Yes, she had been patient. She had been good for a solid 40 weeks. And now, now she was antsy. Hermione had always been prompt and on-time. She definitely knew which parent this child was already taking after. It would, no doubt, have red hair.

Not that she would want it any other way, seeing as the only other option was damning the poor child with her unruly mop. Besides, she loved Ron's hair.

That was beside the point. The point was, she was hot, and bloated, and pregnant. And irritated. She had read in one of her pregnancy books that walking could help induce labor, so she egged Ron into walking with her. (Ron had read over her shoulder that sex could help too and was more willing to try that, but excuse me, she was a week and a half overdue, and was just not in the mood, so back off, bucko.) What she had failed to realize, despite his repeated attempts to remind her, was that it was mid-August and so muggy that her hair must have tripled in size as soon as she stepped out of the door.

So she was irritated. Because Ron was hot, too, and wanted to go home, so he was muttering under his breath about stubborn women and pregnancy hormones. She accidentally trod on his foot as they walked.

"Ouch, Hermione!"

"Whoopsies."

"Come on, love, please can we go home? There's gotta be something else we can try. Or you can just walk circles through our lovely, magically-cooled, humidity-free home. Please."

Hermione wiped sweat from her brow, holding her head high as she acquiesced.

"Alright fine, you big baby."

So they turned and headed home, and it was on the doorstep where she grabbed Ron's arm and winced as a painful cramp swept through her.

"FINALLY."

The next 25 hours was just constant waiting. Waiting to go to the hospital because no, we do not need to leave when contractions are 34 minutes apart. Ron. Waiting to get a room, because it turns out defeating Voldemort is not enough to bump you up the line when there is an excess of pregnant women going into labor. Waiting for that stupid, bloody, effing Healer to get back with a pain potion. And finally, waiting for the nurse to bring their sweet little girl back after taking her away to get cleaned and weighed.

And the next moment, the Healer was walking into the room holding a pink bundle that was screaming like any true Weasley should, and then Hermione was holding her daughter for the first time.

And time stood still.

Author's Note: Thank you for reading! Reviews and helpful criticism would be appreciated!