Ch. 4 - I'm going to make Mummy better

A/N: Nope - still not JK Rowling even if I'm traipsing in her wonderland.

A/N2: This chapter is why this story is M rated. Just sayin'. - DG

"I'm not surprised she fell asleep. I'm sure it was quite a shock to see her mum like this. Then again she's usually better when she wakes from her crash nap. But when she wakes up we'll go home for the night. I dunno if she'll get any sleep though."

"What are you planning on doing once you leave here tonight?" Robert whispered back.

"We'll swing by and see the kids and mum'll probably feed us. I know that she'll have questions and such." Ron looked down and saw his wife stirring on his lap. She had been asleep maybe an hour when she dozed off. "We'll head home afterwards then be back up here tomorrow morning." Ron ran his fingers down his wife's chin before giving her shoulder a squeeze. Brown eyes opened and saw bright blue ones.

"Hey," she said quietly.

"Hey yourself. Have a good nap?"

"What time is it?"

Ron checked his watch. "It's a little after eight. You fell asleep in the middle of our conversation."

Hermione sat up and rubbed her hands up and down her face. "I can't believe I did that. I've not done that in years."

Ron rubbed her shoulders and felt the tension lessen some under his fingers. "Don't be. You've had a rough day."

She looked over at the hospital bed. "Still no change?"

Ron continued to rub her shoulders. "Nah. I talked with the nurse while you were asleep. They gave her a sleeping potion, I think. It's sounded stronger than the Wheeze's Catatonic potion, but without the whiskers. She might come out of it tomorrow or the next day but the nurse didn't know for certain."

"Why don't the two of you go on home and get some rest. I'll stay up here tonight and keep her company." Robert spoke up from the other side of the room. He had been brushing his wife's hair.

"But Dad – "

Robert scoffed at his daughter's comment. "Rubbish. Someone has to get some sleep and I'll be awake worrying as it is. Besides, you've not eaten anything since we got here and that's not healthy for you."

"I'm fine. Really. I'll get something later."

"You'll do Mum no good if you're not taking care of yourself. That includes not eating, staying up all night, or coming down sick. If you get sick they won't let you come up here. So go on and kiss my grandkids and get some sleep. We're not going anywhere tonight."

Ron pulled his wife up off of the couch. "Don't argue with the man. We're going to the Burrow so we can eat and kiss the kids."

Hermione crossed her arms. "Looks like what I want right now doesn't amount to anything."

Ron smirked at her. "Nope. Tonight we're in charge."

"Fine then. We'll go. But I'll be back up here early."

"That's fine then. But go get some rest. I have a feeling this won't be a two day affair. This might be something longer." Robert looked at both of them. Hermione could only guess what her father was thinking. "I know Mum was in good shape before but I don't know what's going to happen now. Things might change. I just don't know."

Nurse Estelle slipped in the open door. "Evening. I'm here to check on Mrs. Granger and give her the 8pm meds. I thought I'd let you know that visiting hours are ending shortly. I know Lord Echlin left orders that one of you could stay the night with her."

Ron looked around for his rucksack. "We're about to leave Estelle. But we'll be back in the morning."

"So you're staying Mr. Granger?"

"I am but I'll stay out of your way."

"You're fine; you're not in the way." The nurse turned to Ron and Hermione. "She's in good hands. We'll take good care of her tonight."

Ron made his way to the door. He wanted to give his wife a moment without him. Sure enough, she picked up her mum's hand and pressed it into her cheek, whispering words only she could hear. He knew what she was saying – he said those words to her on many occasions. Next was a hug from her dad with more soft words shared between then. A kiss on her cheek and she was walking to the door.

Hermione passed him and was halfway down the hall before started after her. "Hey, slow down there."

Her stride and pace reminded him of Auror training – hustling without hurrying. She slid by people in the corridors like they weren't there where he tried not to run over everyone in his path while trying to catch up with her. He knew this was her way of hiding from her emotions, her way of stifling the overwhelming feelings. He'd catch up to her in a second in the twists and turns in the labyrinthine corridors. She kept pace out the double doors to the waiting room and further to the front atrium.

"Blimey, Hermione, slow down!" Ron finally caught up with her on the front walkway leading to the apparition point around the corner. He grabbed her arm to stop her. "Slow down!"

She turned and he saw why she was practically running. Tears flowed freely down her shadowed face. "Come here!" as he pulled her into his embrace. "She's gonna be ok. She's a fighter, just like you are."

"But Mum," she hiccupped "Mum's older. She could stay like that. There's so much I didn't get to say to her. She could get sick while on the vent. She could come down with pneumonia and die from it."

"You don't know that. None of us can right now. She needs you right now. You have to stay strong, to stay positive and know she's going to get better. Give her a reason to come back to us."

"But she's been mad at me for years."

"So? She's still your mum and she loves you dearly, even if she's fucked up on how she shows it. Mum was mad at you too but loved you to pieces. She just needed time to work through her shite before she could realize how bloody amazing you are. Hell, Jean's probably mad and it's nothing to do with you but she knows you can handle it. It's like when we row. You're the only one strong enough to handle me. If I yelled at Mum she'd give me that look and I'd sit down and get a thrashing – when what I need is to get that anger out."

Hermione stood there silently. Ron watched her tears stop and her breathing return to normal.

"She's in good hands tonight. Dad's there and the nurses are checking on her often. She's going to be fine – and if there is a problem we can be here quickly, yeah? There's nothing to really worry about tonight. It's not like we can do anything for her anyway, is there? We just have to wait and let her heal."

Hermione nodded quickly. "You're right. But I'm scared. She might not recover. She could end up like Frank and Alice."

"I didn't think you would either and yet here you are. You've got to have some faith. Now come on, let's get to Mum's so we can see the kids. I bet they miss you terribly."

Hermione looked in Ron's shadowed blue eyes. "What do we tell them?"

"We tell them the truth where they can understand it: Gramma Jean is sick and in the hospital. Mummy and Daddy are there with Grampa Granger to help her get better. They don't need to know the other stuff. It'd just confuse them."

"When did you get so smart?"

Ron lowered his head and gently kissed his wife. "That happened the day you kissed me." She smiled back at him for the first time since everything went pear shaped. "Are you ready to go see the kids? Mum might need you but the kids need you too."

Ron checked the wards on the property. They came through the Floo from a late dinner at the Burrow with Mum and Dad and the kids. Mum was fantastic, having gotten them a bath along with ready for bed. Hugo had just dozed off in Granddaddy's lap in the parlor when they arrived and cried when Hermione put him in his bed. He only settled down to sleep when Ron read him a bedtime story about dragons and a prince rescuing a damsel in distress.

Rose was another story. She asked so many questions. She was just as excited to know about the machines as his Dad was. He knew Hermione was emotionally spent today so he did the best he could. Ron ended up answering most of them and probably screwed half of it up in explaining it to her.

While he was explaining to Rose, Molly plated leftovers for them to eat. He demolished the leftover leg of lamb, roasted parsnips, gingered carrots and a loaf of bread. Hermione ate the vegetables and a slice of bread but left the rest for Ron. At least she ate something. Better than nothing really. Dad was a help, taking Hermione into the parlor while Ron and Rose, along with Gramma Molly, talked over his dinner. Rose yawned during the dessert – chocolate pudding – so Ron took her upstairs to tuck her into bed.

"Where's Mummy?"

"She's talking with Grampa. She'll be up in a couple of minutes."

"Can you read me a story like Mummy does?"

"Sure Rose. What would you like?"

"I want Princess Hera and the mountain troll."

"I need to go get the book downstairs. Can you wait a minute while I get it?"

"Sure Daddy."

Ron kissed his daughter on the forehead before rushing downstairs to find her book. Hermione wrote the book when she was on bed rest with Rose out of sheer boredom but it turned into a wizard hit. The kids loved the stories – the parents too – but only a few knew that the tales told to children were actually true.

Ron peeked into the parlor and saw Hermione crying again. He knew she wouldn't be up to reading to Rose tonight. She was too emotionally vulnerable to hide it. Let her talk with Mum and Dad. I'll handle it tonight.

Ron took the wobbly stairs two at a time, going into Ginny's room where Rose slept when she stayed over. Sure enough his precocious daughter was waiting for him with bated breath. "Where's Mummy?"

"Mummy's downstairs with Gramma and Grampa. They're talking."

"Why aren't you there with them?"

"Because you wanted a bedtime story too, like Hugo did."

"But I want Mummy."

Ron looked at the book in his hands. "Mummy's upset about Gramma Jean. You don't want me to read to you instead?"

Rose climbed out of the bed and made her way for the door. "Where are you going Rosie Posie?"

"I'm going to make Mummy better," she said in a determined voice.

Ron shook his head and followed his daughter down the stairs. Sure enough, they were still in the parlor talking quietly. He watched his daughter walk right up to Hermione and crawl into her lap. Hermione looked at her daughter, dressed for bed yet looking wide awake. "Mummy, it's gonna be ok."

Hermione burst out crying again.

"There, there Mummy. It's ok."

Ron walked into the den and sat on the couch. He took his favorite women into his arms and held them both. Hermione was sniffling through her tears while Rose was crying with her. Molly joined in, sitting next to Hermione and hugged her too. Ron saw his dad sitting in his favorite recliner. A grin crossed his face followed by an approving nod of his head.

"Come on Rose. Let's head on up to bed now. I need to get Mummy to bed shortly too. She's had a very long day."

"OK Daddy."

Rose gave Hermione a kiss on the cheek before crawling out of her lap and into Ron's arms. They left and went back to her room. A snuggle on the bed and Rose was fast asleep in minutes. He went back down to find his wife ready to leave for the night.

Hugs were given again before they departed. A quick trip through the Floo and they were home safe and sound. Ron locked it before checking the wards around the house. He finished that then came back inside.

Water was running in their en suite. He could wait until the morning to get one himself. The house was too quiet since the kids were with their grandparents but he thought that Hermione would need an evening alone. Whether she included him tonight was entirely up to her.

Ron peeled off his jacket and tore the vest over his head. He flung the smelly vest into the laundry basket by the bathroom door before sitting down to attack the boots on his size 12 feet. The boots came off before going into the closet too. Off came the socks that he had been in for 14 hours. Next removed was the webbed belt. He unbuttoned the top of his trousers when he heard the water shut off and Ron heard a muffled sob. He took two steps and he was at the door, gently pushing it aside to see his wife. She was beautiful mess. "Oh honey," he said before giving her a hug.

He caught a whiff of her shampoo, lilacs and aloe. He also felt the water running off her naked body onto his uniform pants and dribbling between his long toes. Bloodshot brown eyes looked up.

"Help me forget for a while."

"But you need sleep."

"I need you."

"I'm yours."

Hermione ran her damp fingers up and down his bare chest. She left water dripping onto the bathmat onto the floor. He saw the water running down her frame. He followed trails of water down her frame, first with his eyes then with his fingers. Some fell straight, like the line from her chin to between her breasts. He followed that drop with his eyes. He lost sight of it when it went into the crevice of her navel. Others followed winding curves, starting with a tendril of hair on her shoulder, down the curve of her breasts to the taut tip of the nipple – falling off onto the floor.

"You're beautiful," he whispered into her wet scalp.

Her thin arms wrapped around his waist. Small yet strong hands gripped his arse under his uniform trousers. His hips swayed under her fingers, gently grinding against her stomach.

She pulled her hands out of his pants and trousers to the top button, working to slide them off his narrow hips. When she reached the zipper he batted her hand away before falling to his knees on the carpeted mat. Strong hands gripped her hips, laying a trail of kisses in the valley between her breasts working his way down the curve of her abdomen to the swell of belly below her navel. He moved his hands up her flanks to her breasts, palming the soft flesh while tweaking the thicker nipples to hardness. He stretched his frame even higher so he could take one hard nipple in his mouth while moving his hands to her arse, kneading the flesh there.

She shuddered under his touch, feeling his chapped lips on her ever-heating skin. She loved that he was the only one who could boil her blood, twist her knickers and make her scream like no one else. She loved the calloused fingers he raked across her skin or the rough tongue he used on her willing flesh. She loved his continued enthusiasm for her body, ever changed by the war and the children she bore.

She was lost in his touch when he suddenly stood up. A lopsided grin was the only indication that they were moving elsewhere – namely to the bed in the next room. Ron pulled her, stepping backwards through the doorway into their bedroom and backing into the foot of their bed. She started to speak but was met with his long finger on her lips. A shake of his head kept her quiet. Only then did she notice that he had lost his trousers and pants in the process. She smiled bashfully. She desperately wanted to get lost in him, at least for another night. Many a night in their relationship, before and after marriage, were spend blissfully unaware of the world around them. Tonight she needed it – she needed the solace for her aching soul and bruised heart. She literally needed to get lost in the fuck he would give.

One long finger went under her chin, bringing her face to look upon him. Instead of kissing her though he sat down on the edge of their bed, using his hands to pull her closer while she toyed with the hair on his head. She scraped her nails through his scalp, earning a growl in reply. She did it again trying to provoke a stronger reaction. On her third raking through his ginger hair did she get a response: he pulled her onto his lap. She barely avoided hitting her head on his but his lips made her forget almost immediately that she could have been hurt. He plundered her mouth with a ferocity he rarely displayed since the kids were born. She loved getting lost under his ministrations, succumbing to the myriad of sensations he evoked from her. He was the only one who could make her feel intensely and so passionately.

He left her mouth and before she could whine or bemoan the loss he was trailing wet kisses down her throat to latch upon her breasts. She bent her back while leaning on his splayed legs so he could give her body proper attention. He sucked hard and it felt so good, so right. He pinched the other, rolling her nipple into a point. He moved back and forth between them, pinching and squeezing and biting.

"More, I need more," she groaned from above his head.

Ron pulled her hips forward while be scooted back on the bedclothes. She knelt above him, leaving half her legs hanging off the bed. "I'm yours," he growled. "Anything you need."

"Please," she begged in a whisper.

She felt his hands lower on her body, tickling her intimately. He knew her so well, knew how to get her yelling in seconds – or take his time when she needed to be feel every exquisite second of their lovemaking. Tonight she was losing control and needed to be lost in his touch.

Ron was a man of many talents when it came to his wife. He kept one hand between her legs while the other rolling her nipple. She bucked and twisted in his embrace while he continued to pleasure her. Sure as the sun, he had her groaning in delight. Ron watched her fall apart for the first time tonight yet she hadn't crumbled as she needed. Her voice echoed off the walls of their bedroom yet it still wasn't enough. He had to do more for her.

When she could see again, she scraped her delicate fingers down his torso, trailing her nails along the tender flesh of his ribs. Her touch was fire on his nerves. Her hands worked around his back to dig into the slightly hairy flesh at the tops of his hips. She rolled her hips against him, driving him mad with want. She dug her nails in deeper, hoping to provoke a stronger response. She felt the hands holding his hips and arse shaking.

Hermione leaned in and snogged him harder. She fell apart yet she couldn't chase away the first image of her mum today while she was lying in the bed hooked to the vent. She looked so small while the image burned into her memories. Now she truly understood the grief and horror Ron and Harry and the rest felt for her that terrible day way back when. That's why she fought to keep her liter cup from overflowing. She finally saw with her own eyes what they endured for her and it threatened to shatter her.

"Ron, please!"

Ron grabbed her arse while she dropped down onto him. "Oh fuck, you feel so good!" he groaned.

He watched her close her eyes, shedding fiercely fought tears from the corners. "I'm here," he whispered in her ears. "Trust me. Let go."

Hermione heard him but couldn't move. She was shaking too much from the emotions that were coursing through her.

She might have been on him but Ron was in control. He moved slowly, tender in his actions, watching her slowly succumb to the anxiety tearing her apart. He continued to love her, with his mouth, whispering coarse words just for her while sharing his body and soul. Ron shifted his feet and hips and saw Hermione's expression change. She opened her eyes wide and started to move with him. "Yes, please, right there," she crooned for him. He did as she asked, pacing himself while she bounced on him, taking pleasure from him. "Touch me," she whined while grinding her hips on his.

He grabbed her hips and arse and shoved her hard on his hips. He used his size twelve feet for leverage to make her shudder above him. She froze and ground her hips down as far as they would go, quivering in pleasure.

Years of marriage didn't dampen his appreciation that he could make Hermione fall apart.

Hermione half opened her eyes, still clouded with lust, barely articulating what she needed most. "Fuck me like you want."

He sat up taller at her rare choice of words. "Are you sure?"

"I need it."

Ron stared like a house elf at her. She rarely used coarse language, even with him in the privacy of their bedroom. "Bloody Hell yeah!"

Hermione slipped off of his lap and crawled onto the bed. Shagged out and crumpled did nothing to cool his enthusiasm. She laid back into the bedclothes with a come hither look to her eyes. Her happily complied while he covered her body with his own. His kisses were intoxicating and she didn't care that he pulled her hips flush with his own and pulled her knees above his elbows. All that mattered was getting lost in the moment with her husband. He settled in on her hips and once again made love to his wife.

"Come for me love, let go," he growled into her ear. "You know me – I'll go all night if you need me to. One spell and I can shag you until sunrise."

Hermione nipped at his throat in reply while she ran her fingers across the muscles of his bum. The tension in her body was competing with her thoughts that drifted across her mind while he was above her, making love to her, sharing his soul with her. She craned her head to look at his blue eyes – the ones that were so easy to get lost in. Such a tranquil shade of blue, she thought, and he's always there when you need him.

Ron kept his promise. She recounted behind her closed eyes, moving her hips in time with him – opening her eyes after giving birth to their children and seeing him there; seeing his blue eyes after they first made love the day of Fred's funeral; his worried blue eyes when she opened them again in the hospital in Australia; the morning after they were married at the Burrow. The best days of her life – and the worst – and he's been there since the day he returned to her life.

Tears started flowing at that thought, intertwining with the building tension in her body. "Harder," she whispered into his skin.

Ron went faster and harder while coiling the tension in her body even tighter. She whispered encouragement – a litany of harder Ron, faster, yes – and that was all he needed to fingers tangled into her rumpled hair, pulling her head back to look up his furrowed chin. She looked at his face while pulling his arse tight to her hips. She didn't need his answers. She already knew those. She needed him to listen and comfort – because she needed him most of all. She needed him because she was scared of what could happen.

"Let go," Ron said before pulling Hermione as tight as he could to him. He took her breath away in the physical and emotional overload and she started crying in earnest. Ron shuddered, her name dripping from his lips before her tension snapped, destroying the emotional wall she held to resolutely.

Ron rolled to his right and pulled her flush to his sweaty and spent body. He heard nothing but jibberish from her but he replied as best as possible, listening to her laments. Through his galloping heartbeat he heard her fears, her concerns, questions, complaints. He fought the urge to fall asleep because she needed him. He needed to be strong for her while she fell apart under grief and anguish.

Ron held her while she cried herself to sleep, following her shortly thereafter.