First time-out


"Ronald!" Hermione called as she stepped over the threshold to their apartment after the single longest day she'd ever experienced at work. "Why didn't you put away the dishes like I asked?"

He came out of the bathroom and fixed her with a look that told her he was not in a good mood. "It's nice to see you, too," he said with an edge to his tone that Hermione resented. She stomped to the kitchen and started putting away the clean dishes with jerky movements.

"Why do I have to do everything around here?" she asked no one, and angrily shrugged off his hands when they rested on her shoulders. "Did you water the plants?"

"Er... no," he admitted, and she heard him fumble around the cupboard under the sink to find their small watering can.

Anger bubbled within her, though it was probably caused of exasperation and exhaustion, not Ron.

"Did you call your mum?" Hermione's voice was rough and weak.

"What?" he shouted from the next room. "I can't hear you."

"Your mum," she repeated through clenched teeth when he had returned. "Did you call her?"

"No," Ron said, and Hermione turned to give him a questioning look, catching a strange twist to his words. "But I will once we have a little talk. Hermione Weasley, I'm giving you a time-out."

She threw her hands up. "What? Don't be ridiculous. We have to eat - rather, I have to cook somethi-"

He'd silenced her. Hermione felt herself tense up, shocked that he'd cast a spell against her. She didn't take his proffered hand, but reluctantly followed him to the living room to sit on a sofa across from the seat he took on the coffee table.

"Hermione," he began. "I want you to think about your attitude, because I've tried being reasonable and supportive for weeks. All I've seen is you feeling worse and worse, so I felt I needed to step in."

He waved his wand in her direction, and Hermione felt speech return to her. With another icy glare at him, she finally spoke.

"I am not a child," she said, "so don't treat me like one."

"Maybe you should stop acting like one!"

"I'm the child here? Let's look at the ever-responsible Ron who can't put five dishes away to make my life easier."

"I got home about five minutes before you. We know that work is killing us both - don't act like your life is so much harder than mine!"

"Work is not killing me." She crossed her arms and leaned back, suddenly defensive.

"Hermione, you're not in third year anymore," he said. "You don't need to overwork yourself. If you need to take time off, everyone will understand."

"I'm fine!" she screeched, though her anger was momentarily replaced with a sheepish expression at the noise she'd caused. Calmer and quieter, she said, "I know work has been hard, but I'm not about to give up."

Ron's lips were pursed as he weighed her words in his mind. "Hermione, I'm not asking you to give up. I'm asking you to consider our relationship and your health - mental and physical. Your work is much more active than mine, and you sleep much less than I do-"

"Because some people just fall asleep at the drop of a hat and leave the work to the rest of us-" she muttered.

"Irrelevant! I'm willing to work on my behaviour and help you more if you agree to do the same for yourself. I'm worried about you, Hermione."

"If you were worried, you'd help me instead of ignoring everything I say!"

"I don't ignore you! I would have done it eventually."

Her mouth twisted in a scowl. "Eventually means that you'd settle for having takeout every night just because the containers are disposable!"

"That's not true and you know it!"

"I don't know anything. At least, that's what you seem to be saying." Hermione was practically blowing smoke from her ears.

"Listen, even if the first five sentences from your mouth today hadn't been nagging questions, I would have had this conversation with you. I know you haven't been sleeping well. I know you're running on almost no energy. You can't imagine how impressed I am with everything you can do, but I'm also worried. Besides, you haven't asked me how my day was."

"That's a bit self-absorbed." There was no power behind her words. He looked lost, sad, and more than a little upset. Hermione felt the numb exhaustion leave her for a second, replaced by guilt.

"I'm sorry," she said. One hand moved to smooth down her hair in an unconscious gesture, and Ron bit down on a smile. He knew that little mannerism of hers, knew it meant she was thinking. That's all he'd wanted, a little bit of thought about the important things.

After the war, they had to relearn how to take care of themselves, and he'd be damned if he let Hermione work herself to death. Though she was doing incredibly valuable work, she'd be no use to anyone worked to death. More importantly than that, he didn't know what he'd do if she did real damage to herself and if he didn't at least try to help.

"I... Fine-How was your day, Ron?" Hermione asked, breaking the silence.

Ron grinned, finally able to share the news that he'd been holding in.

"I talked to Harry at work. Ginny's pregnant," he said. "I wanted to wait to tell you in person, because I know you love-"

Hermione's arms were around him as she crashed forward, pushing him down on the table. She was shaking, just slightly, and Ron could feel the warm kisses she was landing on the skin of his neck. He managed to place one on the top of her head before she moved out of reach.

"I'm so happy for them," she gushed, finally relaxing. "Oh Merlin, Harry's going to be a father."

She pulled back, eyes wide and brimming with happy tears. A grin split her face, a far cry from the stress he'd read there earlier.

"Ron, it'll be beautiful. We have to go wish them well. We should go right now. I'll bring some food - maybe we can have dinner there, or maybe they could come here. Do you think we could go to The Burrow? I'm sure they're all there."

"Sorry," he said, shrugging. "I simply can't allow that. You're not allowed anywhere for the rest of the night."

She raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"You're in a time-out," he answered, "remember? And you will be in one for the rest of the night. I'll bring you food. I'll call Mum. I'll come back and ask about your day. You just sit, relax, and think. We'll visit the Potters tomorrow."

She gave him a look that told him she wasn't impressed, but he heard no more complaints from her.

Thank Merlin. He was still quaking in his boots from the yelling earlier. Hermione looked an awful lot like his Mum when she was angry.

Despite the anger that had filled his and Hermione's little flat for weeks, he could feel that better things were to come. He loved Hermione with all of his heart, and knew she loved him just as fiercely. Perhaps they weren't quite ready for a family of their own - he knew Hermione wanted her career just as much as they both wanted children - but they were going to work on their relationship and get there slowly.

That said, his mum was probably bursting with the thought of more grandchildren, he thought. With that in mind, he grabbed the floo powder and threw it into the fireplace, ready to see the feast his mother had probably pulled together in celebration for Harry and Ginny.

Just before the flames turned green, Hermione called, "I can't believe I'm in a time-out, but I love you, Ron - thank you!" Then, after a short pause and a little giggle, she said, "And tell your mum that I say hello."

"I love you, too," he said right back, finally fully content with his actions of the night. His smile refused to go away. Then, to the fire, he said, "The Burrow!"