"What's that smell?"

The question was carried into Hermione's study and she looked up from the document she had been perusing. She suddenly became aware of a strong odor wafting in from the kitchen. With a gasp she dropped her quill and hurried toward the oven. The unmistakable smell of burning meat escaped along with a significant amount of smoke as she opened the door. Hermione sighed, removing the dish with mittened hands and placing in on the counter.

"Not a word," she shot over her shoulder to her husband. Ron had followed her to the kitchen and was now leaning against the doorpost, arms crossed and an amused look upon his face.

"I would never," he smirked. He took a few steps toward his wife and placed a kiss on her cheek. "Dinner smells wonderful."

"Ha ha. I know you want to laugh so just do already." She shook her head dejectedly. "I suppose this is how Hugo will remember my cooking for the next year. I reckon he'll really be looking forward to the Hogwarts' feast."

"Nonsense. You've been his mother for what, seventeen years now? You know he loves you regardless."

"Yes, well," said Hermione, "at least Rose is bringing over a casserole. She was so excited to cook something in her new flat. Let's just hope she takes after your mum when it comes to cooking rather than her own."

Hermione removed her wand from her pocket and swished it through the air. The ruined roast dumped itself into the rubbish bin and the pan made its way to the sink, immediately filling with suds. Hermione turned around and looked at her husband.

"Are you still wearing the clothes you went out flying in? Don't you think you should change before the children arrive? They should be here any minute."

"It only takes me three minutes to change," said Ron, glancing at his watch, "and they should be here in seven. That leaves me a full five minutes to..."

He did not finish his sentence, leaning instead toward his wife and pressing his lips over hers.

"Ron," she mumbled, pulling away, "I really have to finish editing that document I was working on-"

Her husband chose to ignore her, instead raising his hands to cup her face. "Work can wait," he whispered, his lips inches from hers. He waited a moment for Hermione to retort, but when she did not, he pulled her toward him, kissing her deeply.

"Mmm..." was all Hermione said, her report forsaken.

"Mum, Dad?" came a voice from the sitting room. "You here?" It was Rose.

"Yes, dear, we're in the kitchen," Hermione called out, still slightly out of breath. Her face was flushed as she quickly straightened herself out. Ron just grinned.

"Go change, Ron."

"Yes, love." He headed out of the room, pausing to plant a kiss on his daughter's cheek as she entered.

"Where do you want me to put the casserole?" she asked, slightly lifting the pan in her hands. Hermione motioned to the counter and Rose set it down.

"I hope it came out all right," said Rose. "I followed the recipe to the letter but it doesn't look exactly like the picture.

"It smells marvelous," said Hermione, hugging her daughter. "I'm sure you did a wonderful job. "So, how's the new flat?" she asked as they headed toward the dining room.

"It's lovely, Mum," gushed Rose, "you must come see it once it's all the way unpacked. I have the best view from my bedroom window, and it's so close to work." Rose had recently begun her job at the Ministry, working as assistant to the head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports.

"That's great, Rose," smiled Hermione. "And your new flatmate, Margie Macmillan? You two get along?"

"Yes, well, we were always friendly at school, and she is just so nice. I'm really happy, Mum."

"I'm glad," said Hermione. "It's nice to see you so happy."

They were walking across the room, heading for the sofa when a loud crack made them both jump.

"Honestly, Hugo," said Hermione as both mother and daughter clutched their chests in fright, "didn't I tell you to only apparate right beside the door, and not in the middle of the room like that? You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

"Sorry, Mum," said Hugo, a mere foot away from them. He grinned a lopsided grin and ran his hand through his thick, ginger hair. "Won't happen again. Hey, something smells good!"

"Hugo, my boy, just in time!"

Ron entered the room in fresh clothes and headed over to his son. He had obviously jumped in the shower, as well, because his hair was wet and sticking to his neck, and droplets of water were still dripping on his shirt. He looked so deliciously handsome that Hermione's heart fluttered. It was amazing that he still caused the same reactions in her after all these years.

Ron looked up momentarily from talking to Hugo when he felt her eyes on him. He grinned like a little boy and winked. Hermione laughed.

"Care to help me in the kitchen, Rose?" she gestured to her daughter, heading in that direction.

"Sure, Mum."

"If you would just grab the utensils then I'll grab the casserole." Hermione reached forward to grab the dish but this action caused a sharp pain in her head, and her hand instead flew to her temple as her eyes squeezed shut.

"Mum! Are you okay?"

Hermione slowly opened her eyes, but her vision was blurred. The image of her daughter's worried face gradually returned, and Hermione managed a weak smile.

"Just a headache dear, don't worry. It sometimes happens to me when I spend all day reading. And that stunt Hugo just pulled didn't help any. I'll be fine."

Rose gave her mother a look, not quite sure if she believed that Hermione was fine, but knowing well enough to drop the subject.

"It's shocking they made him Head Boy, isn't it?" she said with a grin as she helped carry things to the table. "He doesn't seem very responsible, does he?"

"You know your brother is quite brilliant, and he can be responsible when he wants to be. He just likes to have a little fun is all." Hermione smiled, thinking about just how much her son resembled Ron.

"Did I hear my name?" asked Hugo, already sitting at the table. "I'm hungry, let's eat! I need to build up my strength for my last ride on the Hogwarts Express tomorrow!"

Hermione and Rose simultaneously rolled their eyes, but Ron just grinned.

"Agreed," he said, "let's eat!"

***

"I just can't believe that our youngest child is going off for his last year at Hogwarts," said Hermione later as she and Ron were getting ready for bed. "Remember when we were at Hogwarts? Where did the time go?"

"Yeah, I remember our last year together at school. We didn't know it was going to be our last year together at the time." He pulled his shirt over his head and then looked at his wife. "Pretty rotten year if you ask me. I buggered the whole thing up, didn't I?"

Hermione looked up from removing her shoes to see the apologetic look in Ron's eyes. So many years and two children later, he still never fully forgave himself for the Lavender fiasco. Hermione didn't care at all. She had him now, didn't she? And it warmed her heart to see how much he still cared.

"Yeah, you really did," she agreed, taking a step closer to her husband. "When I look at Rose and Hugo, I can't believe that they're already up to that stage in their lives. They look so young and carefree. Not that our youth was ever really carefree," she shook her head, "but don't you miss those days a little?"

"No," said Ron so fervently that it made Hermione quirk her eyebrow at him.

"Really, you don't?"

"Nope. We're not old folks yet, Hermione." He laughed. "But honestly, I like this. I like now. I like being married to you. I don't miss worrying about what to say, and what to do. Back then I couldn't touch you, or hold you, or..."

He bent down and lightly brushed his lips against hers.

"Or do that," he whispered, his breath washing over her face. He was looking into her eyes with such love that Hermione found she could not breathe. Oh, how she loved this man!

So she reached both hands behind his head to lower it to her level and kiss him. Hard. She put everything into that kiss, wanting to show him how much she still loved him after all these years. Ron gladly acceded and slanted his mouth against hers, deepening the kiss. He backed her up until her knees were brushing the edge of the bed and she knew that he wanted what she did. She slid her hands under his shirt and ran them up the bare skin of his chest and he shuddered. She smiled against his mouth. His hands snaked up into her hair and gave a light tug, and then...

"Ouch," she mumbled, breaking away from the kiss. A sharp pain, similar to the one she had experienced earlier in the kitchen, had hit her head. Ron looked at her worriedly.

"Hermione, are you all right?" he asked nervously, pulling her to sit next to him on the bed.

"Yeah, I'm fine." She rubbed her temple. This headache was really getting annoying.

"Hermione, I don't think you're fine. Rose told me about what happened earlier." Hermione opened her mouth to retort but Ron cut her off. "She was just worried about you, and so am I. Will you please see a healer?"

"Really, Ron, I don't have any time. I have a meeting tomorrow with Tom McKinley and I need to finish up my presentation on -" She stopped short at the look on Ron's face.

"Hermione."

"Okay," she sighed, "fine. I'll go in to Saint Mungo's tomorrow, right after we drop Hugo off at King's Cross."

"Good. Now go to sleep, you need to get some rest."

"But-"

"No buts, Hermione, good night." Ron climbed under the covers and turned out the light with a swish of his wand. Hermione sighed and followed suit.

"Good night, Ron," she whispered, reaching to take his hand under the covers. He squeezed it back.

***

"So what did he say?" Ron asked for the third time, pacing back and forth in the waiting room. Hermione sighed from her chair and looked up from the issue of Witch Weekly she had been reading.

"I told you, Ron, he didn't really say anything. He just asked me a few questions, took some tests, and told me we'd find out the results soon." She paused. "Will you stop pacing, already, you're making me nervous!"

Ron flopped into the chair beside her. He looked at her so fearfully that she felt her heart melt.

"I just, if anything is wrong with you, Hermione, I can't...I don't know what I'd do."

"Shh..." said Hermione, putting her hand on top of his, "it's just a headache. I'm sure it's nothing. Like you said, we're not old yet, Ron."

Ron just looked at her. "Hermione..."

"Mrs. Weasley?"

Healer Pye stood in front of them, an envelope in his hands. They both looked up.

"Your test results are back, and they are, well...um..."

"Augustus," Hermione whispered. "We know you. You know us. Just give us the results." Ron squeezed her hand.

Augustus Pye shook his head. "I'm so sorry, Mrs. Weasley. It looks as if you've only got a few more months to live."