Hermione woke up in the middle of the night, partly because of the empty space next to her in her bed, and partly because of the fact that there was a strange singing coming from down the hall. She grabbed her wand hesitantly, careful to not make any noise. As she raised herself to her feet, she uneasily looked at the empty spot next to her.

During the occasional times that Ron didn't sleep next to her in their comfortable bed, it was extremely hard for Hermione to sleep. She would toss and turn, next thing she knew she would be awake, crying because of some nightmare that hadn't surfaced since the last time Ron had left had come back to haunt her on the one night that he wasn't there. Those were the nights when she would walk down the hall and look at old photographs, the ones that barely pushed the nightmares away until he returned.

She wrapped her dressing gown tightly around her and slid her slippers onto her feet, thanking George, who had recently invented magical warming pads for slippers, and had given her a pair for Mother's day a few weeks ago.

Hush little baby; don't say a word

Daddy's going to buy you a golden bird

And if Mummy doesn't shoot it at me

I'll make you a show the whole world can see

She looked into the nursery and gave a sigh of relief when she saw Ron's sitting in the rocking chair, tiny Rose settling comfortably in his lack. She smiled at the edited words as she stood for a few moments, watching Ron's strong back muscles flex under his wife beater as he rocked back and forth on the wooden chair.

Hush little baby; don't you sing

Daddy's going to by you a diamond ring

And if that diamond ring turns brass

You'll still be the smartest little girl in class

She stifled her giggle at his assumptions that Rose was going to turn out as intelligent as Hermione was. Hermione didn't think of herself as a genius, but Ron did. While Hermione was pregnant, Rose had always kicked right before Ron entered through the door, even before Hermione could tell that he was home. When she had told Ron about it he had said, "It's those brains you know!" and had kissed her belly lovingly.

Hush little baby; rest your voice

I'll be there for you because I made that choice

I'll stay with you and Mummy forever

You and me, the three of us, always together

Rose didn't know what he was singing about, but Hermione sure did. Right after they had found out that she was pregnant, Ron had sat her down and told her that he would be there for her, and Rose, for as long as he lived. He promised that whatever happened, he would be right beside the both of them, helping in any way that he could. She cried while he spoke those words, the ones that had more meaning then any other he'd ever spoken.

Hush little baby; don't you cry

Mummy loves you and so do I

I love you so much, my eyes get wet

You're my everything, don't you ever forget

"What about me?" Hermione whispered in his ear, just before wrapping her arms around his shoulders. He jumped a couple inches out of the chair, a startled expression on his face. The lines along his face instantly relaxed when they saw her, and his eyes softened into the warm, liquid blue that she loved so much.

"Did I wake you up?" he asked, his ears reddening a little. Even after all these years, he still got red sometimes.

"No," she answered softly, stroking the straight brown hair on their baby's head, "It was more you being gone. You know I don't sleep with the empty space in our bed."

"Why don't you head to bed, love? I'll finish putting Rosie down and then I'll come back. You look tired," his tone was filled with emotion, and his voice was hoarse and gravelly from the early hour of the morning.

"Alright," she said, "but you have to promise to be in soon."

He looked her in the eye and nodded, a silent promise that he would be back in bed with her within a few minutes. She leaned down and kissed Rose's forehead, before swooping up and giving Ron an innocent kiss on the cheek.

"I love you," he whispered as their lips parted, his arms still firmly encased around Rose.

"I love you," she whispered back, before stroking his hair down and walked slowly out of the room, taking one last look at the adorable scene in front of her.

Authors Note:

I have a question for anyone who knows. Is a wife beater still a wife beater in England? Or is it something else? I'd like my stories to be accurate. And I didn't want to say tank top because it makes Ron sound like a girl :D!

Alright, and another question. I don't think I'm crazy (wellll…) but it makes me so mad when people say "I love you," and then someone replies "I love you too." Well, the too part makes me mad. I think it almost degrades the fact that they're saying I love you. I mean, I know you can't avoid it, but it stills makes me mad sometimes. Maybe I'm weird. What do you think?

Good? Bad? Review:)