It is six in the morning. It is the day after Christmas just a year after the war. Ron Weasley lies in his bed staring up at the ceiling. His hands were resting on his chest. He rolls over and stares at a picture on his bedside table. It is of him and Hermione six months ago. She was not facing him and he was silently begging her for forgiveness. "Art mimics life," he whispered, glancing over at Harry, who was sound asleep and snoring ever so slightly. Ron sighed. He had not talked to Hermione in a couple months. She would not talk to him because she was angry and would not tell himwhy.

Ron threw his legs over the bed. Shivering slightly, he stood and in the darkness, undressed out of his pajamas and into some clothes. Tying his tennis shoes, he left the room and quietly walked down the flights of stairs. He stopped in the kitchen and grabbed his best gifts – a new, pewter cauldron, a broom servicing kit, and a designer owl cage cover – and left.

Standing on the stoop, he breathed in the air. He could smell the cold. It was going to snow soon. He walked to their newest car – a red Blazer that his dad had bought for 400 pounds – and going to the passenger side door, opened it with one hand and threw the gifts in. Swiftly walking back to the driver's side, he opened the door and slid into the car. The car seat is freezing and Ron shivers slightly.

Closing the door, he starts the car with the keys his father left in. Ron knew he was not a good driver, but he could drive and had his license – Hermione had insisted that he got one. Slowly, he drove through the town. The world was sleeping all around him and he was sure they were dreaming of all their gifts and of their happiness.

Ron shivered again. All he felt was numbness. His wife, Hermione, was not speaking to him and he did not know why. Ron felt helpless. What was going on?

In the apartment on the second floor, Hermione was curled up in a small ball on the couch. Tears trickled down her cheeks. She was so angry and alone. She wanted to rely on Ron, but could not. Hermione wished her parents were home, but they had gone to London to visit a friend in the hospital.

She uncoils from her position. Hermione wiped her eyes as she walked over to the window. She stares out of it. A red car pulls up and parks. The driver looks up at her. All she can see is his ginger hair.

Hermione turns and goes to the door. Grabbing her cloak, she puts it on and goes down to the car. Slowly, she opened the passenger door and got in. Sitting down, Hermione stares in front of her and says nothing.

Ron should not have come, but he had to see her. Hermione's parents had forbidden him to come around her. They were gone, so they would not find out about their outing. He starts the car and they drive.

Neither of them say anything to each other the whole drive through the silent town. Both said nothing and felt more lonely then they had ever felt before. "Hermione, I…" Ron began a few times, but he never said anything. Every time he would try to, she would glance over at her. A lost, stony look was in her eyes. She was a like an old brick house – strong and unmovable. As he looked into the orbs of brown, he felt like he could gaze into the forever. He could lose himself in those eyes. "Hermione, I will be there tomorrow," he promises.

After a short drive, he takes her back to her apartment. She gets out and closes the door without looking at him. Ron watches as Hermione hurries into the apartment. Sighing, he turns the car on and drives back to The Burrow.

The next morning, Hermione is at St. Mungo's ready for the test. She looked around, but he is not there. "You promise," she whispers. Her name is called and she stands. Glancing at the clock, she sees the time is 7:30. Hermione then follows the nurse to the examination room.

Meanwhile, Ron gets to the hospital. He parks and gets out. Ron paces. He knows that he should go into the hospital, but he cannot.

Instead, Ron walks down the street to get some flowers. Hermione, can't you see, it's you are pushing away? It's not me, he thinks, I want to be there. But, you are such a brick house. I couldn't convince you to let me be there for anything. You are too strong to let me be there for you. Ron held the flowers in his hands and then threw them away. Absently, he drove back to The Burrow without a glance back.

Back in St. Mungo's she sits. Her foot jiggles nervously. The doctor comes in and does an ultrasound. She stares at the image floating above her and she feels so alone. A lone tear trickles down her face.

He did not come to see her. He could not bring himself to do so. Weeks went by and not an hour passed without him thinking about her. One night after dinner, Arthur Weasley sat his son down. "Err, is everything alright between you and Hermione? Her parents are worried about her. She will not talk to them," he said, "Tell me the truth. IS everything OK?"

He was surprised that the Grangers had contacted his father. Ron could not ever remember them trying to in the past. He pushed the thought out of his mind and settled his head around the topic at hand. "Dad," Ron began. He stopped and stared into his father's kindly face. "No she isn't. She might be pregnant with our baby. However, she won't let me into her life. Her parents won't either."

"Son, I think you need to step it. Actually, I know. Go to her. Go now," Arthur said. His voice was crisp and clear.

Ron stood. He nodded and ran out the door. He drove faster than he ever had all the way there. Snow was just starting to fall and the streets were getting slippery when he reached the Granger's flat. Parking, he got out of the car. He stared at it and took a deep breath. Without stopping for another second, he ran up the steps and threw the complexes door open.

Ron ran up to the door and yanked it open. Hermione was on the couch, reading. She looked up and stood. Striding to the couch, he sat down. "I want to be part of your life," he said, "I want to see our baby grow up. I want to watch you grow into an elderly woman.

Hermione started to cry. She threw her arms around his neck and Ron found himself crying as well. They were together, but both felt alone – the time absent had caused things to change. They both knew it and silently agreed that they would work on becoming closer.