Hey everyone, you're getting this early this week as I'm out tomorrow night (My Dad seems to think we're American and should go out to an American themed pub/restaurant on July 4th!) Hope you enkoy...

Usual Disclaimers apply.

Chapter Ten

It was rather late when I woke the next morning. Last night, after he'd washed up, Ron had excused himself and gone for a bath. And shortly after that he was saying goodnight. It had been relatively early, but I suppose he'd had rather a long, emotional day. I suspected he needed some time alone to process everything.

Whereas I had lain awake for hours, just listening for sounds of him in the other room. It was practically killing me laying in our bed alone, whilst he was on the other side of the wall. I don't think I'd really thought through the ramifications of having him home, nor taken into account my own emotional feelings of the whole situation.

The truth was, I was confused and frustrated and hurt. Why hadn't he remembered a single thing about me yet? At least nothing personal. Could he not feel this crackling tension between us? Was it just me? I still felt a fool for thinking he was going to kiss me – it had obviously just embarrassed him. But, it just felt so weird us being here together in familiar territory, but being so far apart. I knew it was going to take time, I kept telling everyone else that, but I wasn't very good at listening to myself. But just how much time was too long? Could I stand it?

Eventually, after listening to his chorus of soft snoring for some time, I must have drifted off to sleep, not that it was restful. And now, it was late and I couldn't hear any sounds of life from the next bedroom. Suddenly I scrambled out of bed and threw my robe on. What if he'd decided he couldn't do this after all and had gone back to the farm? What if he'd left me? I raced down the stairs, the strap of my dressing gown flowing behind me and almost tripped over my own feet.

I must have let out an audible sigh of relief when I stepped into the lounge and found him sat on the sofa, an open book in his lap, because he turned to look at me. "Morning," he smiled, once, briefly before returning to the book.

"Morning," I put on a cheerful voice, trying to sound more awake than I actually was. "Have you eaten breakfast?" I wondered, hiding a yawn behind my hand.

"I got some juice," he replied. "Hope that was okay? I would have made some tea, but erm…well I'm not sure, or I can't remember the Wizard way," he looked a little embarrassed at that. He'd grown up as a wizard and only lived two years as a Muggle, yet the Muggle way was more familiar to him now. The realisation saddened me.

"Not to worry, I'll give you a lesson later. For now, I'll go make us some tea and…a bacon sandwich sound good?" I asked.

"Oh yeah," he grinned, almost salivating at the thought.

"What are you looking at?" I peered over his shoulder, almost expecting to find him actually reading 'Hogwarts: A History'!

"A photo album I found. Hope you don't mind," he grimaced sheepishly.

"Ron," I put my hand on his shoulder and then removed it quick when he flinched and stared at my hand. "I know you don't remember it yet, but this is your home, everything here belongs to you as well. So, help yourself to anything, do anything, rummage around, look at everything. Honestly, it's fine and I want you to." I tried to reassure him. "Were you…looking for anything in particular in there?" I wondered.

"Actually I remembered something this morning. It was...about you."

"You did?" I froze in my tracks on the way to the kitchen.

"Yeah, I was just lying in bed. I woke early you see, must be from all that time working on the farm. Anyway something suddenly came to me. We, we were arguing…"

"Well that narrows it down," I interrupted, laughing.

Ron chuckled once. "I was wearing these hideous robes, though you looked…beautiful. It was definitely Christmas time, but I think we were at school and there was a huge party going on."

"The Yule Ball," I gasped.

"Yule Ball?" he asked.

"Yes, that year Hogwarts was hosting the Tri-Wizard tournament, and the Yule Ball was part of the tradition. Anyway, what else do you remember?"

He shrugged. "That I was angry with you, thought I don't really know why. I seem to recall the argument continuing later upstairs, in the common room…and that I upset you. I wish I could remember what we were fighting about and why I was wearing those awful clothes. Oh, and who was Krum?" he added, which surprised me.

I sighed and moved around the sofa to sit beside him. Taking the photo album off him, I flipped forward a few pages and found some photos of us at the ball. There was Ron and Harry, sat glumly at a festive table, adorned with food and drink. Beside them sat Padma and Pavarti – their dates for the night, looking rather affronted. A photo below had Harry dancing with Pavarti for the opening number of the ball – the one and only time he'd danced that night. On the opposite page, there was me with my date. "That was Krum," I pointed. "Victor Krum. He erm…well, he was my date for the ball." I explained.

"Huh," he laughed once. "Though, I can see why you didn't want to go with me dressed like that. It looks like an old pair of curtains!" He screwed his nose up at the image.

"They weren't that bad, though you certainly hated them. But, we all needed dress robes that year and your parents had four sets to buy, they were the best they could afford at the time. And anyway, I did want to go with you, but...you never asked."

"I didn't?"

"Well, not until it was too late…and only then as a last resort because no one else would go with you. I was hurt. I had turned down Viktor a couple of times, in the hope that you'd ask me, properly I mean. But…you didn't, so I agreed to go with him."

"I was a right bloody prat then!"

I laughed. "Sometimes. But I think mostly, at that age you just hadn't admitted to yourself how you felt about me or you hadn't realised it yet. That's why we were fighting, I think you were jealous after seeing me with Victor…and maybe that unnerved you. And I was just upset that you were ruining my night and upsetting me, and that you'd come to your senses too bloody late!"

Ron snorted as he looked at the photos. "Still, I look a right tosspot in that get up. No wonder you preferred him," he nodded towards the photo of Krum. "Hey, he was a Quidditch player, wasn't he?" he remembered.

I nodded. "Still is, he plays for Bulgaria. Though…I don't know for how much longer, suppose he's getting a bit old for professional Quidditch playing."

"Knew that team was a bunch of gits," he muttered under his breath. "So…was he your first, you know, boyfriend?" he wondered.

I shrugged. "Not really, it was very short lived. We never really spent any time alone together – mostly he just liked to sit and watch me work in the library," I frowned and Ron laughed at that. "There might have been the odd kiss that night," I added, hoping to spark something within him. "And I had a wonderful time with him at the ball, but nothing much after that. Well, we wrote to each other for a bit and he invited me to visit that first summer. But, I never saw him again until your brother's wedding."

Ron nodded, and I sadly noted the lack of jealousy as he turned the page. "Was he friends with my brother then?"

"No, his wife, Fleur. They were both Tri-wizard champions for their schools." I explained.

"Fleur, my sister-in-law?" he asked curiously. "She's not, is she part, erm…er…" he frowned, trying to think of the word.

"Veela?" I supplied.

"Yeah, that's it. Veela!"

"Yes, she is."

"Huh. Something else I sort of remembered," he muttered to himself.

"Yeah," I mumbled. Something else that's not about us, I thought. "Well, I'll go see about those bacon sandwiches, shall I?" I got up and headed to the kitchen, leaving him looking through the book.

We munched on our bacon sandwiches in silence, still sat next to one another on the sofa. "Mmm," Ron groaned as he finished his, wiping his hands on the napkin I'd given him and then took a slurp of his tea. "That was good," he grinned.

I nodded as I was still eating. And then silence followed for a little longer. Ron picked up the book again. The fastidious side of me screamed in hope that he'd wiped all the grease off his hands. "Can I ask you something?" he wondered.

I nodded and finished my mouthful. "Of course. Anything."

"It's just…I'm confused. You said I have five brothers, right?" he began. And I stiffened, hoping this wasn't going where I thought it might be going.

"Yes," I began, hesitantly.

"But…on this photo from my brother's wedding, Bill, right? There's only four brothers, and me. So, who's missing."

"Percy," I sighed, hoping this was as far as the subject was going to go. "He'd erm…had a stupid disagreement with the family and wasn't speaking to them, so he didn't come. I mean, things are fine now with your family and him," I quickly added.

"Yeah, I assumed so, because," he flipped through a number of pages in the album. "He's here on our wedding picture, the one that was missing. Percy's the one with glasses, right?"

"Yes, that's him."

"Okay. But…there's still only four brothers…and well," he flipped back and then forth again, comparing photos. "I had twin brothers, right? But one seems to me missing on our wedding photo."

"Ron," I began and set my plate down on the table before turning to face him. "As well as forgetting all the amazing things you have in your life, there's some sad times as well, some things that are going to hurt to remember. And…this is one of them."

"What happened?" he asked, looking worried.

"Your brother, Fred. George's twin. He, he died, almost a year after Bill's wedding."

Ron gasped and his mouth fell open. "How?" He asked simply, his voice quiet and soft.

"He was killed…by a Death Eater, in battle."

"What…how?" he shook his head. "Death Eaters?"

"Do you know what they are?" I wondered.

"Yeah, I remember all that stuff. Heard Mildred and Max talk about them a few times, especially after I was first found. But…how did my brother…a battle? What kind of battle? What happened Hermione?" He looked at me desperately and I saw that his eyes were watery. It broke my heart to tell him all this, for him to go through this again.

"It just…he," I groaned, not knowing how to tell him. I really didn't want to get into the logistics of the war we'd fought in just yet. I didn't want him to remember all the bad times before he knew more about the good. "I don't know how to tell you," I admitted honestly.

"Does this have to do with all the nasty stuff you don't want to talk about yet?" he assumed.

I nodded. "I'm sorry Ron, I will tell you, I promise. I just…I don't want you to know about all the horrid stuff from our past before you remember more of the good. We had some amazing times too and…I'm afraid if you get too bogged down by the bad, you're not going to remember the good. But, I will tell you all about it, soon. I promise you that."

He took a deep shaky breath and nodded. "Okay." he agreed. "So, my brother, George…how is he these days?"

"He's okay. I mean, for a long time he was distraught, as was your Mum. I couldn't imagine the pain of losing a child, even more so now I'm a mother myself. And he was lost for a very long time, Fred and George were always together - partners in crime, you never saw them apart. For him, losing his twin was literally like losing a part of himself. But somehow, he got himself through it, you helped him a lot." I added.

"I did?"

"Oh yeah. You're support was really appreciated. I know he still misses George every single day and he still has bad days sometimes…grief isn't really something you get over, you just learn to live with it. But, he has a beautiful wife now, one of his old Hogwarts school mates actually, Angelina? Remember her. She played on the Quidditch team?" He shook his head. "Well, they have two children as well, a little girl called Roxanne, and a son he named after Fred. He's just like his namesake, a little terror and full of mischief – I think Hugo has picked up on some of his tricks actually," I groaned. "But…George is okay, he's not great and I doubt he ever will be, but…he's okay. He's actually the one who gave me the great advice after we thought you'd…died." I explained.

Ron looked down for a minute and then ran his hands over his face. He sniffed and I worried he was crying. Should I hold him? Comfort him? I didn't know what to do. "I'm sorry," he eventually muttered. "You were right."

"I usually am. But, what about this time?" I smiled.

He chuckled lightly. "When I said it would have been better for my family to still think of me as dead, and you said I was selfish. You were right, that was a horrid thing for me to even think. My family deserves the truth and I can't let them lose another son." A lone tear ran down his face as he looked at me.

"Come here," I sighed and pulled him into my arms, not caring how he reacted. He needed some comfort right now. "It's all going to be okay," I whispered as he lay his head on my shoulder and I rubbed his back. "They haven't lost you. I'm sorry I had to tell you about Fred." I whispered against his soft red hair brushing my cheek.

He nodded on my shoulder and held me as he allowed the tears to fall. These last few days must have been such an emotional roller coaster for him and I was just surprised the tears hadn't come sooner.

After awhile, he sat up and gave a huge sniff." I'm sorry," he muttered whilst wiping his eyes on his sleeve. "You must think I'm such a prat."

"No," I answered him gently and touched his arm. "It's perfectly understandable with what you're going through. I know these last two weeks have been hard on you and confusing."

He shrugged and sniffed loudly, his ears turning red. "Yeah, well…I still feel a right prat for blubbering on you."

"There's no need to be, I'm your wife, we share everything. I'm just so sorry I had to tell you about Fred." I handed him a tissue.

"I guess I'd have had to find out sooner or later. Better now than when I actually meet George." He blew his nose loudly, took a deep breath and composed himself, giving me a week little smile. "Sorry," he mumbled again.

"Forget it, okay. Look…what do you want to do with the rest of the day? Anything you want…"

"Anything?" he asked.

"Sure. Whatever you want to do, we'll do it."

He bit his bottom lip for a moment before he raised his head to meet my gaze. "Then…can I meet my kids?" he asked quietly.

My breathing hitched for a moment, not having expected that. I had been thinking along the lines of taking a walk or going out for lunch. Not this. "Oh, erm…yeah, sure," I rambled. "I mean…if you really want to. But, are you sure you're ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be I guess." He laughed once, but looked nervous.

"You don't have to yet. I can put them off a bit longer…or…."

"No, I want to see them. I think I kind of need to, I need to know they're real and I want to know them. Please Hermione? I want to meet our children." He grasped my hand.

How could I refuse that? "Okay," I nodded. "I'll go over to Molly's and get them. It might take me a little while though. I need to try and explain things to them before I bring them home. They have no idea we found you or what really happened. I have to prepare them. Okay?"

"Yeah, I understand." He nodded. "I'm sorry for being a pain."

"You're not," I shook my head as I stood from the couch. "You're right, they're your kids and you should meet them. Just…prepare yourself for when I bring them home, okay? I have no idea how they'll react to this news, so…be prepared for anything." I warned him.

He nodded, though his eyes betrayed the nerves he felt. "I'll be ready." he assured me. Before I darted up stairs to get dressed and bring our children home.

I first caught sight of Rose, lying on the sofa looking through a book when the floo came to a stop.

She looked up lazily and then when she saw who it was, scrambled off the sofa, flinging the book behind her and rushing to hug me as I stepped over the grate, soot and all. "Mummy!" she grinned and looked up at me as she held onto my legs. "We go home today?" she asked me, a wide toothy grin.

"Yes," I sighed and smoothed her hair back from her face. "I'm taking you home."

"Yay!" She let go of me and clapped her hands as she jumped up and down.

"Where's your brother?" I looked around for him.

She sighed and rolled her eyes over dramatically. "With Grandma, she fixing his finger."

"Oh Merlin, what did he do this time?" I wondered, going through to the kitchen with Rose following me.

"Hey Mummy!" Hugo grinned from atop of the kitchen table.

"And what have you been doing now, young man?" I asked, trying to sound stern, but not really having the energy. Molly was putting away a book and then handed her Grandson a biscuit.

"There we go, all better now," she smiled at him, cupping his chubby little cheek. "He got bitten by a gnome," she whispered loudly to me.

Hugo just looked up at me and laughed hesitantly.

"How many times have we all told you to leave the gnomes alone?" I sighed.

"Sowwy Mummy," he pouted and inspected his finger closely. "Gone now, look!" he shoved his finger under my nose.

"Yes, so I see." I hugged him and kissed the top of his head. "Now," I lifted him down from the table, "why don't you go upstairs and pack all your things up, nicely. So we can go home?"

Rose shrieked again and was already racing up the stars. "Go on," I patted Hugo's bottom and sent him in the direction of his sister. He followed slowly.

"You're taking them home?" Molly turned to me, surprised and perhaps a little sad that she'd be on her own again. She revelled in having the grandchildren around her.

"Yes," I nodded. "He…he wants to see them."

"How's he doing? Being home? Here, sit down love," she pulled a chair out for me.

"He's…okay. A bit overwhelmed I think, it's been a rough morning," I added as she was pouring my tea. "I…I had to tell him about Fred this morning," I added quietly. Even now, Molly's eyes clouded with sadness whenever you mentioned her late son's name. Not that his name was ever forbidden in the house, we often spoke of him. Just, you knew the reminder hurt. Up until two weeks ago, she'd reacted the same at hearing Ron's name. "He'd seen some family photos in an album and got confused," I explained.

"I see," she nodded, busying herself getting the biscuit tin out. "How…how did he take it?"

"He was pretty upset. To be honest, I think the last two weeks have caught up with him and he had a little meltdown. He had a few tears."

"Do you think it's wise to take the kids back now?"

"It's what he wants. He says he needs to see them and I think he's right. He doesn't want to miss another moment of their lives. And, who knows…maybe they'll jolt some memory for him? Because Merlin knows I haven't," I sighed.

Molly patted my shoulder just as Rose came clomping downstairs, dragging her bag that was overflowing with clothes and a teddy threatening to fall out, behind her. "Ready Mummy!" She jumped off the bottom step.

"Did you help your brother?" I asked.

"I coming!" he called. Moments later he was stood beside his sister, his bag packed even messier. I was quite sure they'd both forgotten a dozen things, but we could pick them up another time.

"Okay. Now, before we go home, mummy has to talk to you abut something very important. And I want you to listen and do your very best to understand, all right?" I asked, seriously.

Rose frowned at me. "Okay…."

"Why don't you take them into the lounge?" Molly suggested.

I led them through and pulled them onto the sofa, one either side of me. Molly closed the door quietly behind us.

"I thought we was going home?" Rose wrinkled her nose at me.

"We are sweetheart. I just need to talk to you for a few minutes," I pulled her close to me. "You see…it's about daddy."

"Daddy bwave!" Hugo spoke up, repeating what he'd been told about his father his whole life.

"Yes, he is."

"And he fighted bad mens," Rose added.

"He did."

"But he in heaven now," she finished, sadly.

I inhaled deeply and let it out slowly. "Yes, well. About that. Do you remember when I had to tell you that daddy wasn't able to ever coming home?" I asked Rose. She frowned at me. "No, of course you don't. You were barely older than Hugo is now," I hung my head into my hand for a moment, trying to find the words to explain all this to them.

"Mummy?" Rose asked, concerned.

"Okay," I began again. "When we…lost your daddy, he was fighting the bad men and he disappeared. Uncle Harry looked for him for days, weeks and no one could find him anywhere. We thought that he must have got hurt very bad. So bad that he couldn't come back and would have to go and stay in heaven." They both looked at me with little blank expressions, not having a clue what I was talking about. "Anyway," I continued. "Daddy had been hurt, but not as bad as we thought and, well…we found him now."

"Yay!" Hugo squealed, though I was quite sure he didn't understand what he was squealing for – he did the same thing when the dragon scored a Quidditch goal in his storybook.

"You found him in heaven?" Rose asked.

"No sweetheart" I sighed again and rubbed my hands over my face. Damnit, this was so hard – how was I supposed to explain things like amnesia to a couple of small children? How did I make them understand this and not just think daddy had left them and suddenly turned up again. "Daddy wasn't in heaven sweetheart, he never was. You see, when he got hurt,"

"By the bad men," she interrupted.

"Yes, when he got hurt by the bad men, it hurt his head. And, well...his memory has been poorly for a long time."

"What's memmemy?" Hugo asked.

I groaned again. This was getting worse. "Your memory is in your head, it's how you...know things that have happened. Like how you remember what happens in your favourite Oscar the stinky dragon book."

Hugo giggled "Chicken poop!" he chuckled, recalling his favourite part in the book where the poor old clumsy dragon falls in the chicken coop and gets covered in poop and everyone calls him stinky.

"Yes, well. Daddy's memory got hurt very badly, so it's not been working properly. And…he forgot all of us, which is why he couldn't….

"He forgot us?" Rose's bottom lip wobbled.

"Oh, he didn't want to my darling," I held her close to me and kissed the top of her head. "His head was just too poorly. And…he's very sad that he doesn't remember you. That's where Mummy has been the past couple of weeks, trying to help him remember."

"Oh…" she muttered, though it was clear she was confused.

"Hugo, do you understand?" I wondered.

"Daddy," he nodded. "Fell in chicken poop!" he then laughed.

"No," I sighed. "Rosie, Hugo…your daddy is home."

"Home?" My son looked at me quizzically.

"Yes, daddy is at home, waiting at our house. And he really wants to see you both."

"What if he's fibbing? What if he's not really my daddy?" Rose wondered, looking a little alarmed.

"Sweetheart, I know your daddy too well. I've known him much longer than you have. So, I promise you, it's honestly your daddy."

"Oh." She chewed on her bottom lip.

"So…do you think you want to go home and see him?" I asked, gently. I wasn't going to force them into this.

"Yay!" Hugo jumped from the sofa and grabbed his bag. "Go home!" he grinned at me.

I smiled at him, though I know he probably didn't understand, he was young enough to accept most things and just go with it. "Rosie?" I asked, edging off the sofa and knelt before her so I could look at her. "How about it?"

She pouted. "Okay," she whispered, reluctantly.

"I thought you'd be excited about seeing Daddy again? You talk about him all the time."

She merely shrugged. Okay, so this was going to be harder than I thought. Hopefully when she saw him and that he still looked pretty much the same as the photos she had, she'd remember and all the love and good times she had would come flooding back to her.

"Right, well let's go say goodbye and thank you to Grandma, and then we can be off."

Thank you as always for the amazing feedback...I'm so touched you love this story as much I loved writing it!

More is always most welcome :)