A/N: Originally written for the Sinfully-Romione fest on Tumble on and on. - DG

"Hermione, would you come look at something?"

It was a lovely Sunday morning and Ron was still getting ready for the weekly pilgrimage to the Burrow for Sunday brunch. The kids enjoyed playing with their cousins outside, staying mostly out of trouble while Ron could sit around and bullshit with his brothers. And then there was mum's cooking. Taking a break from making meals for the family was a welcome respite.

Hermione put her head into their en suite, seeing him frown. "What is it?"

"Do you think I'm losing my hair?"

"What do you think, love?" Hermione disappeared when she heard the kids yelling from the living room. A minute later or so, she popped her head back in. "Lift the fringe, love." He did and she frowned. "Maybe but it probably is the haircut you got two weeks ago from the new stylist." She disappeared when she heard Hugo crying.

"Maybe it's from you ripping my hair out when I go down on you," Ron grumped. At least it wasn't going grey like mum's hair was showing, or even the few he saw in Hermione's hair. He lifted the fringe on his hair and saw that the hairline might have moved back an inch from what he remembered. He was getting older – he was over 30 now – and losing his hair like his dad would be something he'd have to accept, someday.

But it wouldn't be today.

He brushed his hair to hide the hairline and straightened up. They'd have to be at Mum's in a minute for helping with the kids and Hermione being drafted into the kitchen. And of course she'd make some comment about his hair. Mum never let an opportunity pass to critique it, whether it was too long or too short. Then again, she fussed over all of her kids, including Percy who was half-bald at this point, the poor sod. Even Ginny wasn't excused for keeping the pixie cut she kept from her playing days with the Harpies.

Maybe they'd have enough time before lunch and the kids were playing that he'd stop over at the shop to pick up a bottle of Wheeze's hair restoration tonic. George made galleons hand over fist on that simple potion. It should work for him too, especially since Percy used it, according to George.

"Ron, are you ready? We need to head over. I told your Mum that I'd help in the kitchen today."

"Yes, love," he huffed and went to the living room and saw Hermione and Rose impatiently waiting while Hugo had his nose in a book. "Let's go."

Hermione went first and Rose followed, with Ron tucking his already tall son in next to him. "Keep your nose next to my jumper until we get there. It won't be long."

"Can't we apparate there? I hate going by Floo."

"I know you do." Ron grabbed a handful of powder out of the pot. "We're going this way so we aren't late for Gramma's house. Going from our hose to the apparition point is a ten minute walk. If we are late, she will get louder than usual."

"Fine," Hugo grumped and stuck his nose into his daddy's jumper.

The Burrow Ron yelled as he threw down the powder and held his son tight for the spinning trip from their house to the Burrow. They landed and Ron released Hugo first. Hugo – five years old and pretty tall for his age and as thin as Ron was then – stepped out coughing. "I hate that!" he spat out ashes and littered Mum's parlour with even more.

"Is that Hugo I hear?" Molly stuck her head out from the kitchen. "I have biscuits in the kitchen for you while your father tidies my den."

Hugo scampered off to the kitchen, eager for biscuits before lunch. Hugo might take after Hermione in personality but he had his father's appetite. Ron snorted and pulled his wand to do as his mum asked. It took about five seconds.

"Hermione?"

"In the kitchen," she yelled back.

"Off to the Wheezes for ten. Back in a tick."

"OK."

Ron stepped back into the fireplace and yelled for the Leaky Cauldron. It was nice to walk easily on an early Sunday without being bumped into or bothered. But he couldn't stroll since he had to be back at the Burrow in a minute. The storefront looked immaculate, with the signs in the windows and the lights on, displaying wares. He walked in and the two part-timers were working. George hired them for the summer and were busy helping the few customers that were shopping. He slipped to the side of the store with the domestic products and scanned the various bottles. Sure enough, on the bottom shelf, in the black bottle was what he was looking for.

Wheeze's Fringe Follicle Frizzies – guaranteed fur restoration for your pate. Ethically sourced. Not tested on dragons, thestrals or any non-human subjects. 100% natural ingredients.

He picked up the large bottle of the potion and took it to the counter.

"Ah, Mr. Weasley. Making a purchase?"

"Yeah," he laughed. "It's a gag gift for Dad." He handed over the four galleons to Jessica, the manager trainee that Angelina hired back in the fall. "And I'm sure George will laugh, too."

"If you need to return it, hold onto the receipt," she said mechanically. "Sorry. Force of habit."

"I completely understand." Ron gave her a laugh and watched her put the potion bottle in a sack along with the printed receipt.

He apparated from the storefront and landed outside the gates to the Weasley property. Hermione would know he picked up something as soon as he asked for her purse. They'd talk about it later, once they were home and the kids were in the bed fast asleep.

Rose hadn't even started Hogwarts and he was losing his hair. That was a load of bunk.

Hermione smiled at him while she finished tending the salad for lunch. His mum gave him a look he didn't immediately recognize. "Did you get what you needed?" she asked.

"Yeah, I did."

"Well, maybe it will help with that hair cut you got from those muggles. If you'd let me cut your hair, you wouldn't look like poor Percy. I mean, you take after me so you should have a full head of hair."

"Mum, leave off," Ron grumped and left the kitchen. He went looking for Rose and Hugo. They weren't in the parlour so he went off hunting for his wayward children.

He found Hugo first, hiding in Ginny's old bedroom. He was sitting on the bed, reading a book.

"Was it too loud downstairs with the cousins?"

Hugo shook his head. "Gramma's mad at me." Hugo wiped his face and turned away from his Daddy.

"She is? Did she misunderstand you for some reason?" Ron sat down next to his son and waited. Hugo eventually turned back around. "Did she say why?"

"I got a biscuit and she tried to hug me and I said no. She said that was rude. She yelled at me." He looked up, with a mop of hair as curly as Hermione's was but with Ron's color and texture. Big brown eyes were swimming with tears. "I told her I didn't want a hug but she did it anyway." Hugo sniffed again. "I ran up here and found a book."

"It's too much today, isn't it? Is today one of your 'don't touch me' days? Do you want me to talk with Gramma?" Ron sat still and watched Hugo. "I know you don't like being hugged sometimes. Is today one of them?" Hugo put his book down and reached for Ron. He took his tall son into his arms, feeling Hugo shake. "I will once I know you're sorted. Gramma makes mistakes and she probably didn't realize that you were out of sorts." Ron ran his hand over Hugo's head and across his cheek, barely touching. "You do seem warm. Maybe you're coming down sick with something." Ron rocked him slightly and Hugo was snoring before he knew it.

"Yeah, I figured as such. I'm a grumpy firecrab when I'm sick too." Ron stood and gently laid his son down on the bed and covered him with a blanket. The book went onto the desk so it wasn't accidentally stepped on and he left the door open so he could hear him if need be.

Ron made it to the stairs and ran into Hermione. "Where's Hugo? Everyone's waiting on him for lunch."

"He's asleep in Ginny's bedroom and I think he's got a virus or something. But Mum didn't help matters. She upset him and you know he occasionally gets stressed from too much noise and change."

"He takes after me," she said.

"She fussed at him for being rude when he said he didn't want a hug and she did it anyway. I swear Mum doesn't pay attention."

"Ron, don't start today."

"I'll be good at lunch but I will send her an owl tonight when we get home. We've told her countless times that he's sensitive to some things."

"Yes, she should have, but she was also dealing with five other kids in her kitchen along with three of us and bread baking. You get beastly too when all of us in the kitchen with you."

"Fair point. Where's Rose?"

"She's outside sitting and talking with Albus, Roxanne, and James. They've been a cluster of magpies since we got here."

Hermione turned to go downstairs and Ron put a large hand on her shoulder. "Oh, hey, by the way, can you put this in your purse?" Ron handed over the sack with the potion to his wife.

She took the bottle out and stared. "You don't need it, dear."

"Yeah, I do. I don't want to look like Percy the prat."

"Ron, you're going to look like him. You might look like your father eventually but - "

"No I'm not," he whigned. "See this hair?" He lifted the fringe on the front and one lone hair stood out, one-half inch in front of his hair-line. "This was part of my hairline a year ago. Look at it."

Hermione put her hands up on his forehead. "You're upset over this? You spent galleons for one of the Wheeze's products for this?"

"Hermione, I love my Dad but I'm not ready to look like him."

"Love, - " She pulled his ears down for a snog, including begging entrance with her tongue. He reciprocated until they broke away, breathing hard. "You can be bald and I will still love you."

Ron puffed up. "I'll use the tonic but if it doesn't work, I'll quit fussing over it. Sorted?"

Hermione sighed. "You win. I'll put it in my purse and you can have it back once we get home. I presume you don't want anyone else knowing, like George?"

"Yeah, and Bill. They'll take the piss for me losing my hair like the prat."

Hermione reached up again and snogged her husband thoroughly, including messing his hair slightly. "Now they can take the mickey for you being kissed thoroughly by someone who knows how and not about your hair or haircut." She smirked and trod back downstairs to lunch.

"Barmy witch," he muttered before adjusting his trousers and checking on Hugo one last time before joining the family for dinner. He sat down at his place next to Hermione and Rose across from them, talking with Al.

"Where's Hugo?" Arthur spoke up first while Molly was plating lunch.

"He's asleep in Ginny's bed. I think he's come down with a cold or something. He was feeling out of sorts before we came over this morning."

"That explains why he was rude to me when he got a biscuit. I had to fuss at him for telling me no when I wanted to hug him." Molly sat down next to Arthur and across from Bill. "That's so unlike him."

"Actually, it is like him. He's rewarded for indulging you," Hermione added. "He gets an extra hour of playtime at home after we come back home if he gives you a hug. He doesn't like giving hugs unless he's comfortable."

Molly looked up from her own plate like a scared cat towards Arthur first. "He's always – "

Hermione said, "He takes after me, Molly. I was very distant with most people until I learned. Forcing him to hug you every time we visit stresses him. He loves you but hugging people is too much."

"Well, I, I didn't - "

"No, you didn't remember." Tension filled the air around the table with no one daring break it, not between the two witches in question.

"Mummy?" a small voice came down the stairwell. Hermione was out of her chair and up the stairs before Ron could stand, followed by a slamming door. Ron looked across at his daughter, already as tall as her Mum and thin as a rail. He loved her more than his own life and had since her first breaths. "Rose, do you want to stay for brunch? I think Mum and I need to take Hugo home."

"Sure. I'll floo home later." She went back to talking with Roxanne and James, and saw looks of commiseration from his siblings. He made for the stairs, taking two at a time, with chatter erupting behind him. As he figured, the bathroom door was closed and the noises from inside were muffled. Hermione's thoughtfulness never ceased to amaze him, even if few others realized it. "Hermione, what do I need to do for you and him?"

Hermione opened the door and Ron bit off a laugh. She was soaking wet. "Hugo didn't make it." Ron understood. "He's in no shape for apparition or portkey to get home." A soft sob behind her gave way. Ron stepped into the bathroom and saw his son looking ghastly, with all of his freckles standing out on his face. "We have to make one more trip today, champ."

"I hate going by floo. Can't we apparate?"

"Sorry, Kiddo." Ron picked his son up and hoisted him up onto his shoulder, covered in the expansive towel. He snuggled into his daddy's arms shivering.

"Well I'm coming home too. I don't want to have a row with your Mum over Hugo today. I can get Rose later, once the rest of them head home."

Ron carried his son down the stairs and towards the parlour. Arthur came in while the rest of the family was tucking into lunch. "Heading home, son?"

"Yeah. Hugo's sick and probably needs his bed for a few days. Hermione's coming with to not upset Mum."

"I'll talk with your Mum after lunch. I don't think she realized – "

Ron interrupted because he felt Hugo stirring. "She didn't but that's Mum for you – a dragon in a china shop. She thinks all of the kids are like Fred and James, not thinking that some aren't as comfortable in loud, noisy, and hugging environments."

"Well, send us an owl or call later to let us know how he's doing."

"Sorted," Ron saw Hermione slipping into the fireplace with her purse, his jacket, and Hugo's things. She was gone in a flash and Ron stepped in too. "Hold on tight."

Hugo snuggled in tighter and they spun away.

"I finally got him down to sleep."

Ron stepped out from the shower wearing only a towel. Dear sweet Hugo. Go big or go home, and that included making an epic mess on the Floo trip from the Burrow. Fortunately Hermione was outstanding in cleaning spells, even better than he was. She had Hugo out of his soiled clothes and in the tub in mere moments and tucked into his bed shortly thereafter.

"I figured he would be," Ron saw her still slightly soaked from her impromptu shower at the Burrow. "Why don't you get out of those wet clothes and grab a shower since he's asleep. I know it's uncomfortable."

"You're right. I'm chilled." Hermione stepped out of her skirt and shed the jumper and then out of her blouse and underclothes. She was in the shower and he reached for her purse and pulled out the bottle of hair tonic. "Since I'm already here," he said to himself and uncorked the bottle. It smelled like stinky feet and looked the consistency of congealed milk. "Here goes nothing." He poured a large dollop of potion onto his hand and fought the gag reflex from the sniff. "I must be mad!" He picked up the bottle again and read the instructions, which were to apply liberally over the hair and scalp and then rinse ten minutes later. "Simple enough," he thought and applied it as directed.

He reached for his towel and started drying off, making sure to get between his toes and behind his ears and in the creases of his arms and legs. He left his hair since the potion was working because his scalp was tingling, as the directions mentioned.

He was toweling off the rest of his body when the water shut off in the shower and Hermione reached out for her towel, wrapping it around her body. "Darn. That was what I was hoping to see." Ron's towel dropped to the floor.

"What, my two kids saggy in spots body?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, it is my favorite to look at, tickle, and do more with." He waggled his eyebrows and Hermione laughed.

"You're an idiot and I love you for it." Hermione's towel dropped from her chest and Ron was on her immediately, running his hands over her body while she worked hers through his hair. She released her hold on his head and pulled back, with clumps of hair in her hands. "Ron, what the hell?"

"Oh shit. I put the tonic in my hair while you were in the shower."

"Rinse it out, now."

"I will not. I'm supposed to let it sit for ten minutes," he complained.

"Damn it, do it, now."

Ron gave her a dirty look. "It's my hair."

"Not when it's doing this." She shoved him into the tub, dropping his hair onto the floor. "It's not supposed to come out from the back of your head, you idiot!" She turned on the spigots full blast, catching him with the pressure of the water full on the face. He sputtered and howled. "Damn it Hermione, stop it!"

"Not until you wash it all out."

"It bloody well hurts!"

"Shut it. I'm helping."

She shoved him hard and he howled again, landing on his knees in front of her. She worked her hands through his scalp, trying to get the congealed potion out, ignoring the pain in her fingers from the heat of the water and the compromised potion in his hair.

She worked and cleaned, running her fingernails along his scalp. Small lacerations marred his scalp where clumps of hair and skin fell off. Merlin's bits, she was being gentle and there were blood on his scalp where she was trying to get the goop off of him.

"I have to get you to St. Mungo's as soon as possible."

"For hair potion in my hair? Fuck no. That's bloody well stupid."

She lifted her hand in front of his face and he breath caught. He finally saw what she saw.

"Hugo," he whispered. "We can't – "

"Put your pants on and I'll wrap a towel around your head. I'll be along as soon as I can. I need to firecall someone to stay with him. Something happened with the potion for this to happen to you."

"Shit," Ron stepped out and wrapped the towel around his head and put on his soiled trousers. "Fucking stupid day," he growled.

"I'm sure Ginny will come over to keep Hugo while he sleeps. But I'm not waking him and I'm not leaving a seven year old home alone."

Ron went to the front closet and grabbed the first zippered jacket and put it on. His head was hurting worse now and he felt like vomiting from the pain. He grabbed some Floo powder and threw it in the fireplace. "St. Mungo's" and he was off.

Hermione came running into the emergency department at St. Mungo's, looking worse for wear in a track suit and her hair dripping wet. "Ron Weasley, he came in a few minutes ago."

"They wheeled him back immediately. I don't know anything else." The front desk medi-witch shoved the window closed.

"Wait, give this to the Healers," She shoved the potion bottle to the medi-witch and saw her walk it back into the department.

"We heard," Harry came running into the department along with Arthur and Molly. "Ginny is at home with Hugo and the kids are with her, bored already. She said she'd stay there with him until he woke then take him with her to the house."

"What caused it?"

"Ron's been upset for months about his hair, after that witch Skeeter wrote about him looking like he was losing his hair. So he, after we came to the Burrow, stepped out to pick up a hair tonic from the shop. Maybe it was old or something didn't do right. Anyway, I ran my hands through his hair and it was coming out in clumps, along with skin. I shoved him in the shower and then here as fast as I could."

"He never said anything to us about his hair." Arthur started and gave Molly a look that kept her from speaking up about nattering about his hair earlier in the day.

"He doesn't talk about it except at home, and that's mostly when – "

"I know," Harry smirked.

"Anyway, he wanted the tonic because he was convinced that his hair was receding and he wasn't ready to look like his Percy or you, Arthur."

Molly exploded. "He's handsome. He doesn't need it."

Hermione felt her anger boiling over. "Oh really? For the last 4 weeks we've been over, you've slagged on him about his haircut, or other nit-picky things. He went and got that haircut that you criticized today because of your complaints. I've spent so much time trying to remind him that he's not what everyone criticizes."

"He – "

"Molly, that's enough. You helped me plenty when I was losing my hair."

"But he's – "

"He's upset that people pick on him about losing his hair and it's not helped him at all."

George came bursting into the room, looking considerably upset. "Where is he?"

Hermione pointed and George went to the nurse and she took him back straightaway.

Harry looked at the closing doors. "What was that about?"

"I firecalled Angelina before I came. She sent George. It's his potion so he might know how to help."

Many minutes passed, with Ginny calling once so Hugo could talk with Mum. He fell back asleep after he talked with her and Rose. Hermione checked her watch and saw that two hours had raced by with no word from anyone after George raced into the ward.

"Mrs. Weasley?"

Two heads looked up. "I'm Mrs. Weasley-Granger. How is he?"

"Your quick reaction helped save most of the skin on his head. With both Mr. Weasley's assistance, we figured out what happened and created an antidote."

"Was it the tonic he purchased?"

"Oh, it was worse than that. Mr. George Weasley said he had a warning on the bottle to not mix with water. Well, your husband said his hair and scalp were still wet when he put the potion onto it. That alone wouldn't have done the damage that happened."

"So what did?"

"Your husband said that your son had been sick earlier. We checked and he hadn't completely washed everything out. Mixing the potion with water and stomach acids caused the reaction."

"How bad is he hurt, Healer?"

"We'll bring you back to see for yourself."

"Go ahead and tell us, please. He was an Auror for years. I can handle it." She save Molly a side-eye look and Molly kept quiet.

"we had to create an antidote for the potion. That's what took so long. Then an application of dittany to heal up most of the skin on his head was given. He'll need probably one more. The skin is tender but somewhat healed."

"You mean it will look like the splinching scar on his arm?"

"It's possible. We don't know if the hair will grow back in some spots, like the top of his head or in front. It's possible it will grow back but then again, it might not. We've never seen this particular injury before with the contamination so we're only guessing."

Hermione sighed. "That was what started the whole ordeal in the first damn place."

"He's awake if you want to come back. His head is wrapped up, to promote additional healing, but he can go home in a few hours, as long as he doesn't wash his head for a week and then only water for a month."

"Christ," Hermione picked up her purse and went with Harry with Molly and Arthur following. "He's going to be a fiend for this happening," she said to no one in particular. They walked back to his room and stepped in. Hermione saw him first, shaking her head. She heard two sniffles behind her.

"Go ahead and say it. I cocked up."

"No, I won't. It's rude." Hermione put her purse down and touched his face. All of the stubble was gone from his chin along with above his lip. "They had to shave off everything on your head, didn't they?"

"It's lucky that you didn't run your hands on my back or more. They said the burns were bad before they treated it."

"So you're going to look like that idiot Quirrell for a few weeks, huh?" Harry punched his arm and Ron tried to laugh. "Shall I see about getting you a proper turban rather than looking like a half-wrapped mummy?"

"Go fuck yourself, Harry."

"Ron!" two women erupted at his language.

"No! I'm sick of everything, of you harassing me for a ruddy haircut, Mum, and you, Dad, for letting her natter on when you know it bothers me. And you, git, for kicking me when I'm down, and comparing me to that traitor Quirrell."

Hermione saw Molly about to cry and Arthur along with her. "Now that we know he'll live, I'll take him home when he's released in a few hours and then owl both of you. I would say this hasn't been one of his best days."

Ron grimaced. "Mum, Dad, sorry. I'll come visit in a couple of days. It's really been one hell of a day."

Molly came over first and kissed Ron on the cheek, saying something softly to him before she left his side. Arthur stood by quietly and escorted Molly out.

Harry sealed the door. "You can get mad at me all you want, but you leave them out of it. I know Mum can be a handful but don't make her cry any more than she has."

"I'm sick and tired of Mum treating me like I'm seven and got ahold of her knitting shears and gave myself a haircut. She acts like she's never forgiven me for doing it that one time."

Both of them looked at Ron.

"Damn." He rubbed the back of his neck, wincing. "Anyway, that's why I don't let Mum cut my hair. I got a bad haircut because she was ripping my bollocks and I got it cut and she's still ripping my bollocks. I'm sick of it."

"Well, don't rip into her again." Harry and Ron shared a serious look before both nodding. Harry looked at Hermione and went to hug her. "I'm going home and tending five kids. You want them to stay the night with us?"

"Sure, if they will. Hugo might want to come home. Rose might want to stay and have a sleep-over with Lily Luna."

"I'll owl once we're home. It should be only a couple more hours."

Harry made for the door. "You look better off than the last time I saw Quirrell – but not by much." Harry ducked out.

"Git," Ron yelled at the closing door and hearing Harry laughing in the hallway.

"That means – "

"He says I look only slightly better than an incinerated dead man. The git."

"That wasn't very nice."

"That's Harry for you."

"Ron, about your hair," Hermione said before she was interrupted by a Healer making an appearance.

"So, Mr. Weasley, here are your instructions: You can wash your head with water only for the next month, and only wash it once a week. Your skin needs time to completely heal. The dittany we used did a decent job but since it's on your head, it will hurt some so take some pain potion as you need it." The healer handed over the first vial. "And this one is for keeping the skin soft so if the hairs that will come in won't stretch the scars on your scalp. We don't know for certain if it will all grow back or if it will even be the same color as your natural hair. It could come in grey, or even green, though your brother doesn't think that the small amount of dragon's blood in the tonic will affect you that much."

"Healer, are there any limitations on outdoor activities and recreation? Any other limitations?"

The healer ignored Ron. "He needs to keep it wrapped for three more days, just to make certain. We don't want any further infections. And he will need to keep his scalp shaded from now on. So hats any time he's going to be outside for more than two minutes, which includes Quidditch or watching matches live. This includes swimming or any water activities.

"And as long as he's not into yoga or football, I see no reason to limit his other activities, as long as he's not on his head. Now let's see how you're recovering." The healer pointed his wand at Ron's head and the dressings unraveled, revealing Ron's bald head with bright white patches over half his head. Even his eyebrows and ear hairs were gone.

Hermione gasped. "That's –"

Ron picked up the mirror on the side-table and erupted in a venomous tirade that embarrassed Hermione. The Healer stood there, stoic. "Yes, most of his head was chemically burned when he came in. If he'd waited another ten minutes, he'd be here a while, because of the damage to his skin. You were quite wise to rush him in."

"But you said water made it worse."

Ron moved his hand over the side of his bare head, finding a bright white patch of skin almost the size of his hand. "Bloody fucking hell!"

"It spread the chemicals to burn his scalp, rather than only in some spots. When he came in and we took off the hair, he had second degree burns on most of his head. Had you not made him rinse it, he'd have burned the top of his head and the back patch of his head to the skull. Suffice to say, I don't think Mr. Weasley will complain too much."

Ron moved the mirror to the other side and erupted in more caustic epithets.

The healer performed another spell and the dressings re-wrapped on his head. "Mr. Weasley needs to return in a week for a fresh dressing and a check-up. But otherwise you're free to go."

"Thank you Healer – "

"It wasn't just us, Mrs. Weasley. We called up one of our Master Potioneers who made the antidote with the other Mr. Weasley's assistance. I believe you know him. He's around the same age Mr. Weasley."

"I'll make sure to send him a thank-you note," she replied with her professional voice. "If that's all," she pocketed the two vials for her husband. "We'll owl if we have any questions or issues."

The Healer handed over a parchment with Ron's instructions for home and departed.

"That git," Ron growled.

"That git helped you."

"It doesn't mean I have to like him."

"I don't expect you to. Now let's get home. And no more potions, deal?"

"Sorted. I think today was my burn notice for worrying about my hair."

A/N2: This fic was inspired by the look drawn by stilestays and blvnk-art. I had to work backwards from an image and this story erupted. – DG