Disclaimer: Harry Potter isn't mine; this story is.

A/N: I love Ron very much which may be why this one was so very difficult to write (and why it took me ALL DAY). Katy gets full credit for the line about Molly being a better cook than Hermione – works perfectly, doesn't it?

By the time Arthur and Molly woke in the morning, there was no sign that there'd been any nocturnal visitors. They were in the kitchen, Arthur reading the Daily Prophet and Molly cooking breakfast when George and Percy came in. It was clear when their mother turned to smile at them that she'd been crying, and George felt the knot in his stomach tighten, but he smiled back and went to put his arms around her.

"Morning, Mum," he whispered, and he squeezed her tightly even as she clung to him for longer than she normally did. After a moment, she pulled away and turned quickly back to the stove to hide the fresh tears in her eyes.

"You both take a seat," she called over her shoulder, struggling to keep her voice level. "I'll have breakfast ready in just a moment."

Arthur lowered his paper and smiled at his sons. "She's glad to have you both here," he confided, winking. "She's never gotten used to just cooking for the two of us."

Percy and George nodded, trying to smile back, but it was hard. The same thought had entered both of their minds at once – Molly would never – NEVER – get used to cooking for herself…

But they had to shake this from their minds as their mother served them breakfast with the closest she could come to a smile, and when they'd just about finished eating, Percy realized he needed to tell his parents that he'd decided to give them a few days before he moved back in. He cleared his throat, but considering no one had said a word in quite a while, his brother and parents turned to him at once. He shifted uncomfortably to suddenly be the center of attention.

"I – I was thinking about this last night," he said quietly. "I do want to move back in, but I figured you might need the next couple of days to tell Ron and Ginny, so I think I'll just wait until the weekend, all right?"

He and George glanced at each other and then just as quickly looked away. No need to tell their parents that this had been Bill's suggestion, that he'd pointed out that Ron, more than any of them, would most likely need the privacy that the rest of them had been given when they'd found out the news. Neither Arthur nor Molly noticed this look, though. In fact, they both seemed relieved.

"That's a good idea, Perce," Arthur said, nodding encouragingly. "You'll probably need the time to pack your things anyway, right?"

Percy nodded quickly and was relieved to find that this ended the conversation. Breakfast finished up quickly after that, and he and George left the Burrow one after the other, Percy flooing over to the Ministry and George to his flat over the shop. Once they'd both gone, Arthur and Molly looked at one another.

"Ron tonight?" Arthur asked, trying to keep his voice normal. Molly nodded.

"I owled him yesterday. He and Hermione will be here at 6. You're going to work, aren't you?"

He nodded, getting to his feet. "I'll be home by 5:30."

They looked at each other for a moment, but neither of them said anything. They didn't have to. It was clear to both of them that they were each dreading this night almost more than they had the others.

…

Ron was ecstatic to get the invitation from his mother. Although he would never tell Hermione this – his mother was so much better at cooking than she was, and he was in dire need of one of her home-cooked meals. He waited for Hermione at the Leaky Cauldron, and when she arrived at almost 6, he was practically faint with hunger.

"Come on, Hermione; let's go," he urged, dragging her to the fireplace. She rolled her eyes.

"Calm down, Ronald. You know your mother will have the food ready as soon as we get there. I'm sure you can make it another minute or two."

He looked at her plaintively, and for a moment, she actually doubted the truth of her own words. Then she came to her senses.

"You can," she said firmly, but she allowed him to push her forward to take the green powder. Moments later, they were both standing in the living room of the Burrow, and both Arthur and Molly had rushed forward to greet them.

"Come on into the kitchen," Molly urged, taking one look at her son's face and immediately recognizing his intense need for biscuits. He grinned at her.

"Thanks, Mum," he whispered, rolling his eyes and tilting his head slightly toward Hermione who, fortunately for him, was busy talking to Arthur and didn't notice.

Before long, they were settled around the table, and Ron didn't need to be told twice that he should tuck in. It was some time, naturally, before any speech was possible.

Finally, after they all seemed quite full, Arthur cleared his throat. Ron looked up from his plate expectantly, and Arthur took a deep breath. It was time. Again.

"We – we invited both of you here tonight because we have some news to share." He sighed. He couldn't help it. He was starting to regret this idea of telling each of the children separately. These words weren't getting any easier to say; in fact, they were getting harder. But one look at Ron's confusion forced him to continue. "I've been having headaches, so your mum made me go to St. Mungo's. They – well, Hermione will probably know more about this than we do, but the healer said it's what the muggles call a tumor. It – well, she said I only have a few months."

Now, Ron was no longer looking confused. In fact, he wasn't looking at either of his parents at all. He was staring down at his plate, and his expression was stony.

Hermione glanced at him quickly; then, knowing he would prefer for no one to look at him, she turned to Arthur and Molly. She took a deep breath, let it out slowly. "Did they say whether or not they could operate?" she asked. Her voice sounded relatively normal, and she was grateful. Ron needed that from her right now.

But their response didn't help. "No, they can't," Arthur said. He didn't say anything else, but he didn't need to. Both he and Molly turned to look at their youngest son.

"Ron?" Molly said tentatively. For a moment, none of them thought he was going to respond. Then, he raised his head. His eyes were expressionless, and he seemed to be looking right through them. Molly felt a chill run down her spine. "Do you – do you understand what we're telling you?" she asked.

Slowly, he nodded. He didn't speak, and after another moment had passed, he got to his feet.

"I've got to be getting home," he mumbled. "Harry won't know where I am."

Without turning to see if Hermione were following him, he raised a hand in farewell to his parents and stepped directly into the fireplace. The silence he left in his wake crackled. Then Molly and Hermione looked at each other.

"I'll go," Hermione said quietly. Molly's eyes were troubled. "Go quickly," she urged. "We're telling Ginny and Harry tomorrow. I don't want them to have to find out some other way."

Hermione nodded, but even as she stepped toward the fireplace, she turned back to Molly and said, "I wouldn't worry about that. You know that was just an excuse. I'm sure Harry is the last person he'd want to see right now."

Molly nodded slowly, but now she was even more worried about Ron. So was Hermione, and she quickly uttered, "Grimmauld Place" as she threw down the powder.

But he was nowhere to be found. Once she realized he wasn't there, she went to Diagon Alley. It wouldn't do to let Harry and Ginny see how concerned she was, and, she had to admit, how very sad too. She knew she was letting her concern for Ron take precedence right now because not to would mean to think about Arthur's news, and – well, she just wasn't prepared to do that yet.

She didn't find him in Diagon Alley either, though. And it was hours later when she'd given up and gone back to the Burrow alone that he finally returned. She was curled in an armchair in the living room; Arthur was asleep, and Molly was supervising her knitting needles when they heard the crack in the garden. Hermione raised her head and looked at Molly, but Molly merely motioned for her to stay put, and she did the same. Moments later, Ron appeared in the doorway.

"Mum?" he said shakily. He was staring at her, and his eyes were very much no longer expressionless.

Molly looked at him carefully before slowly standing up. She opened her arms slightly, and he rushed into them. For a moment, there wasn't a sound in the room, and then Ron mumbled, "I'm sorry for rushing out." His voice was strained, and Molly shushed him, holding him tightly.

Hermione watched this through tear-filled eyes but didn't move until they broke apart, and Ron suddenly noticed her.

His lips were twisted as he fought for control, and he mumbled, "'Mione…"

He didn't need to say anymore. She crossed the room in two long strides, and then he was in her arms, and he couldn't fight any longer.

"I didn't mean – I just can't – it's Dad," he gasped, the unfamiliar tears making his words unintelligible.

"Shhh," Hermione soothed.

It was a long time before Ron managed to pull himself together, but once he did, he found that he couldn't look at either his mother or his girlfriend. They glanced at each other, and Hermione silently got up and went to the kitchen. It was clear that there were things Molly needed to say.

"Ron," she began. He wouldn't look up from his knees, but she knew he was listening. She sighed. "The only person we have left to tell is Ginny. She and Harry are coming to dinner tomorrow, so please don't say anything to either of them until then."

He nodded, still not looking at her. She shook her head in exasperation. "Ronald Weasley, will you please look at me when I am speaking to you?"

Slowly, his head came up, and then his mother almost wished it hadn't. His eyes were red, but so were his ears, and he looked very much like he'd rather be anywhere else at the moment. Her eyes softened.

"Everyone else reacted the same way," she suddenly found herself confiding. Ron looked at her skeptically, but she nodded. "Even Charlie," she added. The red started to fade from Ron's neck, but he asked, "And Bill?"

Molly sighed and shook her head. "Well, no. Not here. But you know Bill. I'm sure Fleur's gotten the worst of him."

Ron nodded. He wished he could say the same about Hermione. He wished he hadn't put all of this on his mother when she already had so much to handle. He looked at her, and she saw his apology in his eyes.

"Don't be silly, Ron," she said crisply. "I would rather you not run off, but to feel bad about feeling bad? Well, that's just ludicrous."

Now he smiled, albeit weakly.

"Well, thanks Mum," he said. "That makes me feel better."

Molly couldn't help but smile back, and after another moment, Hermione came back in. The three of them sat together in silence for a few minutes until Ron cleared his throat.

"Do we – I mean does Dad know how many months?"

Molly shook her head, but she had to bite her lip to keep it from trembling. None of them said another word; they couldn't. The silence stretched on until Hermione and Ron both glanced at the clock and realized how very late it had gotten. They rose to leave, but Ron turned again to his mother and surprised her by pulling her into a very tight hug.

"We'll be here if you need anything," he said, and Molly suddenly felt a surge of pride for her youngest son. Pulling away from him, she rested her hand on his cheek.

"Thank you," she whispered. He stared at her for a moment and then, blinking hard, he turned and stepped quickly into the fireplace. Before Hermione followed him, she, too, hugged Molly.

"We really do want to help," she told her, and her own voice shook. Molly squeezed her tightly as she whispered back, "I know."

And then Hermione was gone too, and Molly was left alone in the living room. She looked around slowly. Alone…