AN) Enjoy! Please remember to review :)

June 2005
A loud 'thump' sounded through the small house as a door was slammed. Groaning in frustration, Ronald Weasley balled his fists and punched the wall nearest to him. How could she say he didn't care? How? For the past two months he had nothing but cater to her every need, always making sure she was okay. But apparently none of that mattered to her. All she could do was sit up in her, yes her, room and cry. Crying Ron had nothing wrong with, no, he would take her crying any day in comparison to being told he had 'no emotions' or 'no sympathy'. It was a horrid thing, to be told you didn't care for your wife and her feelings, and even worse, to be told you didn't care about your dead child. Tears weld in his blue eyes at the thought.

He loved the baby. He really did. If it was his decision he would gladly die in place for the baby's life; No question. But, how could he show that to Hermione? She loved the baby, Merlin he knew she did. If there was anything in the world she loved with everything in her power it was that baby. Ron felt the same, he just didn't show it. No, he didn't know how to show it. It was like wanting to pay attention in his old History of Magic class but not knowing how to, or what to do. He tried to show he cared by caring for Hermione, but she wouldn't have any of it. His brother, George, suggested cleaning the baby's nursery. He said it might remind Hermione too much of the baby. Problem was, when Ron tried to clean the nursery, he ended up thrown out of the room and forbidden to never go in there. He knew Hermione loved the baby, but he thought that was going too far.

It seemed like she couldn't let go. Or perhaps, didn't want to. It seemed like she wanted to hold on to the five months the baby spent in her womb. And it seemed like Ron was ready to let that go, to let it be in the past. Repairing the wall he punched with a flick of his wand, Ron turned and began walking to where the door was slammed; the nursery door. When he got there, he found it cracked. Walking in hesitantly, Ron noticed a small figure sitting in a white rocking chair beside the window. Sighing, the redhead stepped toward his wife.

"Hermione," he began gently, "I'm sorry." She turned her head to look at him with broken brown eyes. It tore his heart in two to see those eyes that once radiated warmth and love to now hold so much hurt and distress in them.

"I am too," she said, her voice cracking. "I've been so horrid to you these past few months. It's just, Ron that was our baby, our blood, I was responsible for this small little life and I let it down!" New tears found themselves onto her cheeks, she looked away as if embarrassed.

Ron bent down to where his face was only inches from her own. Gently cupping her face with his hands, his blue eyes met her brown ones with determination in them. "No, don't you dare say that, Hermione." What else could he say? What could he do? He felt worthless; he couldn't even give her advice, not that he had the faintest idea how too.

Her eyes flashed in anger and she swatted his hands away. "Don't you dare tell me what to say, Ronald! You have no idea what this feels like!"

"I don't?! Hermione, that was my child too! You're not the only one effecting by this! NO, you're the only one SULKING about it!"

"Sulking? SULKING? WHAT IN MERLIN'S NAME DO YOU WANT ME TO DO, RON? HAVE A HEN'S NIGHT WITH GINNY AND LUNA?" By the time Hermione yelled all this, she had already pushed Ron out of the door. "Just leave, please." And with that, she slammed the door in his face. Ron did the only thing that he could think to do at that moment, he Apparated to his brother-in-law and sister's flat.

"I just...I don't understand what she wants me to do," Ron said quietly while setting down his tea and looking at his best mate, Harry Potter. Harry surveyed Ron with pity and sadness in his eyes. Not only did it kill Ron to have someone look at him with pity in their eyes, what made it worse was having your best mate look at you with pity in their eyes. "Don't look at me like that," Ron said irritatingly.

A small smile tugged at Harry's lips. "Sorry, mate." His face took a more serious expression. "Look, have you tried just giving Hermione time alone?"

Ron looked at his friend incredulously. "Time alone? The bloody woman is always alone, Harry! She even sleeps in her own bed, alone!"

"Ron, I wouldn't refer to my wife as 'woman' if I were you." Ginny appeared from the kitchen, giving Ron a scathing look. "Empathize with her, Ron."

"How am I suppose to do that?" His voice was near a yell but Ron refrained from yelling because he knew how Harry would react to it.

Ginny sighed while sitting down beside Harry. He stretched and put his arm protectively around her shoulders. Ron felt a pang of jealousy, he and Hermione use to be like that, when she didn't swat his hand away and giggle. "Ron, just put yourself in her position," Ginny replied simply.

"Why can't she put herself in my position?"

"Ron, were you pregnant five months?" Ginny said dangerously, eyes narrowing.

"No."

"Did you throw up every morning for five months?"

"No."

"Then why in the bloody hell would she have to empathize with you?"

Ron knew his face was red, not from embarrassment, but from anger. "Oh, let me think, because I was the baby's father! Not only did she lose a child, but I did too Ginny! I DID TOO!"

"I know that Ron, but-"

"But what, Ginny? You women act like it was only her that lost the baby! Sure, she carried it but I helped create it! It was mine too! And what am I suppose to do? Hermione complains that I have absolutely no feelings when it comes to the baby but when I try to take care of her she pushes me away! I don't understand! It's like I'm suppose to feel one way, but when I do I get scolded for it!"

The room fell quiet and both Ginny and Harry looked at Ron, speechless; He was crying. It felt like his heart broke, again, at every word he said. Ron sighed and stood up. "I'm just going to go." He said before walking to the door. Just before he grasped the door knob, a strong hand grasped his arm.

"Ron, let's talk, eh?" Ron didn't turn. He merely nodded and allowed Harry to Apparate.

The Three Broomsticks hadn't changed much from when Harry and Ron went to Hogwarts. It still had a cozy yet edgy feeling and the butterbeer tasted just as good as ever. Ron looked over to Harry as his friend watched him. If he was planning on getting Ron drunk then he would have another thing coming, Ron wasn't allowed any more then five butterbeers ever since he and Hermione began coming to The Three Broomsticks as a couple. "What are you playing at?" He asked suspiciously.

Harry chuckled softly. "Nothing, mate."

A long silence ensued and Ron was about to get up and leave only to have Harry gently pull him back down. "Don't go. Tell me, how is Hermione doing?"

Ron sighed. "She isn't any better and she isn't worse. She's the same, really."

Harry seemed to contemplate this while Ron downed his fourth bottle of butterbeer. "How're you, Ron?"

How was he? It confused Ron just thinking about it. Was he okay? Was he still hurt? Did he just hide his feelings? It was too hard to tell. "I-I don't know," he said honestly.

"Look, I know it's hard having everything thrown and blamed on you. But just take it, mate. Hermione will come around, I promise. Just give her time. Be patient and just be there for her."

"It's hard to when she wont let you," Ron muttered.
Harry sighed. "This is hard for me because I have no idea what to say, but I'm trying. That's what you do; try."

"You make it sound so easy. Well, I've got news for you Harry, it's not."

"I know it isn't. Would you rather me be a good friend and try to reason with you or would you rather me allow you to fall into depression?"

"Bloody hell, Harry, you sound like one of those Muggle doctors."

A chuckle escaped Harry's lips as he stood up and laid some money on the table. "Thanks. Anyway, I have to get back to Ginny. Do me a favor and don't stay out late." Before Ron could reply, Harry was already out of the door. It seemed like at that moment something clicked.

Muggle doctor.

Jumping up from the table, Ron ran out of the door and Apparated home, ready to face Hermione.