Disclaimer: I don't own it.

Hermione thought that life was bad when Ron went blind.

Nothing, I mean, nothing compared to her feelings of emptiness that she experienced in the Waiting room of St. Mungo's.

What can I do with a husband that can't function?

That's not a husband at all. That's a shell of a person.

That shell used to be your best friend, your lover, your husband, your business partner.

How could I ever explain to his son or daughter who he really was? The person he really was.

The pain of looking on him wrenches my heart.

The doctors wanted to wait and see if his body was strong enough to fight off itself. If it wasn't, magical barriers would placed for the meantime. Dr. Bigston and Hermione watched him from an observation window, Ron's body phasming and convulsiving; the objects in the room moved around.

"He won't hurt himself; you have my word." Dr Bigston was about twenty five around Hermione's age.

"All I want Dr. Bigston is my husband back. All of him. I refuse to take piece of him back. I won't take only his smile or part of his brain: I want ALL of him back."

"Mrs. Weasley, You Have my word."

Hermione sat in St. Mungo's Hospital for twenty-seven hours. With only the company of herself through the wee hours of the night, she drank coffee. When Harry came back in the morning, he finally said something.

"Hermione you have got to stop." Harry took the cup and held it out of her reach

Hermione jumped out of her seat reaching for her cup, but her stomach stopped her. "Stop what? Stop worrying about him?"

"Stop drinking all the coffee, you somebody might want some you know," Percy took a cup and gulped a sip. "Ahhh, good to the last drop."

Hermione sat back down and glared at him. "Bastard."

"Hermione have you heard from a healer yet?"

"No."

"Just wait here." Harry stormed off, walked into a boardroom, and started to shout.

Three minutes later, a frazzled looking mediwitch came out with a chart.

"Ronald Weasley has been brought back to magical homeostasis. But we don't know how long he's going to stay in this state; the magical barriers we've placed in his body could be fought off by his own magic." The mediwitch almost walked away without saying the words Hermione wanted to hear the most.

"Nurse, tell Mrs. Weasley what you told me."

"He has recovered his sight."

Hermione ran down the corridor at a neck-breaking speed, a speed too fast for a woman who was with child. She skidded into the doorway followed by seven Weasley, a Potter, and two Malfoys.

"Ron," Hermione said, the tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

"Mione." Ron turned his head to the door, his eyes already spilling the precious tears. "Why are you standing there?"

Hermione gave a small laugh. Then the tears came.

In torrents and torrents of salty tears.

Damn, there goes my make up!

Ron wiped away at his tears. "I can see you after all, come in."

A/N: Leave me a review, it's my only caffine fix. No more coffee for the poor writer. :)

How long will Ron have his sight? And how will Hermione's baby keep up with all this stress.

Love you all so much hopefully you'll love this

OH yeah, thanks you Maxwell House for letting me borrow that phrase. Bonus Points and Faster update for those who find it and leave it in the review you're nice enough.

Thanks again ;)