Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling. I own nothing of hers!

Chapter 10

Ron leaned on the kitchen counter sipping his tea and reading the Daily Prophet; his eyes scanning the Quidditch section. The house was quiet. Though it was early, Rose was already at her Nana and Papa's. They were going to the park today. Ron knew she would enjoy that. According to the various family members acting as caretakers, Rose has been doing alright while she'd been away. He wasn't sure how much of that was true, and how much was his family trying to convince him that he's handling the situation well. His thoughts drifted to the other female in the house.

Hermione.

He had already made her breakfast and sent it up to her. He hadn't actually seen her that morning at all. Rose was thrown completely off at home by not having her Mum consistently in her life the past several weeks. She was almost always crying, and Ron made sure he spent loads of quality time with her in the evenings. She'd snuggle extra close to him when he was reading her a bedtime story; often waking when he tried to slip from underneath her. One night he slept on the floor since he couldn't escape the room without her crying.

But, last night, he was able to sneak out of her room. He just chose not to sleep in the same bed as his wife.

How messed up was that?

He sighed as he pushed the Prophet to the side, not able to distract himself from the constant argument that pounded inside his head.

He was angry.

He was doing everything. Taking care of every meal, bathing, dressing, caring for their daughter, telling the family, doing everything that needed to be done around the house and otherwise. And grieving on top of it all. Hermione wanted nothing to do with their daughter. She laid upstairs in the dark crying most of the time. Did nothing to help out. Why couldn't she push past this like he did?

That's where the guilt started to seep in.

He knew what she was going through. Hermione was the strongest person he knew. This was her way of grieving. She needed time to cope and adjust to their new life without their new addition. Ron knew that if he let himself, he'd be the same way. She was doing the best she could. Just like he was. She carried a child in her womb for seven months… only for that babe to be stillborn. Ron could never feel that connection between a mother and her child. He didn't know what it was like to be pregnant, or go through the physical toil of labor…

But, the argument still raged on. He was full of anger, and sadness… guilt… despair. And he couldn't decide what he hated most. That his wife was completely ignoring their daughter… or that she wasn't seeking comfort in him.

It hurt.

It hurt like hell.

So, last night, he let the hurt swell, and decided to sleep on the couch instead of with his wife. And he was paying for it this morning, as his stomach was in guilty knots.

His eyes travelled to an envelope sitting on the counuter and pulled out the two pictures he discovered the day after they came home from the hospital. He had made duplicates of them, and framed the pair. Those were currently sitting on Hermione's bedside table. But, the two he held, were his. He often caught himself going back to them, just staring… for what felt like hours. He analyzed the picture and tried to memorize every detail. It was odd for him, coming from a magical world, to have one photo with no movement at all. He would always run his finger across the image and try to recall how he kissed his daughter's tiny forehead or held her tiny hand in between two of his fingers.

The creak of the stairs caused his eyes to move from the photograph.

Hermione came around the corner. Her curls were damp, indicating that she had bathed recently. She wore her robe, wrapped around her body; the sash tied around her mostly flat, waist. Plaid pajama bottoms covered her legs.

Her eyes met his.

Merlin, when's the last time she actually looked into his eyes?

"Hey," Ron smiled, packing away the photographs; relief flooding over him that his wife had finally made an appearance downstairs.

"Hi," she whispered, her hands resting over her breast, holding tightly to the collar of her robe. She looked around the room cautiously.

Ron noticed her scanning the room, and connected the dots to what she was searching for, "Rose is With your parents. But, I can go get her if-"

"No," she spoke firmly, her eyes almost frantic at his suggestion, "It's fine."

Ron swallowed the frustration that seemed to burst forth at her words, down and looked away as he nodded to show he heard her. His excitement of seeing her downstairs was now replaced by his irritation of her not seeing their daughter. She sat on the barstool by the counter. He looked around the room as he raked his brain for something to say, knowing that something needed to be said. The silence was killing him. Yet, he knew if he said the wrong thing, she'd leave.

And only Merlin knew if she'd come back.

"Care for a cuppa?" Ron suggested.

Hermione nodded, "Please."

He prepared the tea just how Hermione likes it, sweetened with a touch of honey, and set it gently in front of her.

"Thank you," she cleared her cracking throat.

"Of course."

The room was cloaked in silence again, as Hermione sipped her tea and Ron did everything he could not to stare at her. His heart breaking with every second that went by.

"You didn't come to bed last night," Hermione mentioned, her teacup close to her lips. She looked at his shoulder; avoiding his eyes.

It took Ron a moment to realize what she had said, "Oh, yea. I didn't... Rose was having a hard time last night. Slept in there," Ron explained. His stomach twisted again with the lie he had told his wife.

"Puer custodibus charm," Hermione whispered, looking away from him, calling his bluff.

Ron knew the baby monitoring charm was still effective in Rose's room. She would have heard him sleeping in there.

Damn.

"Right… I… I didn't sleep in there. I slept on the sofa," Ron admitted, watching Hermione's face carefully. He witnessed a wave of upset cross her face. Though, she used everything she could to fight it. Her tell was the shaking of her hands as she set her teacup down.

"I see."

Ron pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled deeply, "Hermione…"

But, he was interrupted by the ringing of their Floo. Ron waited a moment, still watching Hermione as she struggled to keep her emotions contained. His luck ran out when the bell rang again. He sighed, and left to answer it. When he opened the access, the Minister for Magic walked in.

"Ron, I apologize for dropping in on you like this," The older man was clearly out of breath; must have been in quite the hurry. "First, I want to offer my sincere condolences for your loss. We can't imagine what you're going through," he boomed in his deep voice.

"Thank you. Erm… what exactly brings you here, sir?" Ron questioned, hoping he didn't seem as impatient as he felt. He wanted to get back to his wife and finish their conversation. He needed to tell her how much he loved her. She needed to know that-

"We're enacting mission 572e tonight," Kingsley explained concisely.

Ron's mouth hung open. He was shocked, "You found him?!"

Kingsley nodded, "Yes. We're concerned he'll leave, so we're acting immediately. Ron… is there any chance you could lead it?"

Ron's shoulders sagged, as he looked behind him towards the entrance of the room. This time, he had no conflict with his decision.

He knew where he needed to be.

"Kingsley, I can't. Hermione…my family needs me right now. I won't leave them." Ron spoke firmly.

"I understand. But, I had to ask," Kingsley responded, "Take care, Ron."

With that, he left in a hurry.

Ron stared at the Floo for a bit. Hoping that they would finally get the bastard that they had escaped their clutches before.

After a moment, he turned and made his way back to the kitchen. Maybe he could get Hermione to talk more.

However, when he returned, the kitchen was empty.

…

"How's Hermione doing?" Harry asked, popping a crisp into his mouth. Harry looked around Ron's kitchen, where he'd dropped by to bring the pair some lunch.

Ron shrugged. Since the surprise visit from Kingsley that morning, he found Hermione tucked away into the library. A book in her hands, yet her eyes stared off in front of her, instead of being lost on the page.

"She came downstairs today."

Harry raised his eyebrows, "Really? That's great!"

Ron nodded sullenly, crushing a crisp between his fingers. His best mate observed the action.

"Why don't you look happier? Isn't that a good thing?" Harry questioned. He knew Hermione had been shut in her room for the past two weeks.

Ron swallowed, unsure just how Harry would take what he was about to say.

"I didn't go to bed last night," Ron glanced up at his mate.

"You're having trouble sleeping? Based on what you told me, Mungo's would be more than happy to give you some potions so you don't have to make them yourself-"

"No. I didn't go to bed."

"You didn't-"

"I chose not to sleep in the same bed at my wife because I'm so frustrated with her."

Harry looked stunned by the admission.

"Ron…"

"I know. I'm a shitty husband. I'm a horrible bloody pathetic excuse for a man. But, last night… I just couldn't do it. And she knows."

Harry took a moment to process the information, "She knows you're… upset with her?"

Ron chuckled bitterly, "Probably, she's the smartest person I know. But, I was referring to the fact that I slept on the sofa."

"What did she say?" Harry asked after a few moments of silence.

"She didn't get a chance. Kingsley interrupted," Ron sighed, pushing aside his half-eaten sandwich, no longer hungry.

Harry observed his broken friend. He knew without Ron saying anything that he was still grieving from their gut wrenching loss. He and Ginny wanted to be there for them, while still giving the couple the space they needed. Ginny thought a few times about coming by, but, wasn't sure how her pregnant belly was going to affect Hermione.

"She hasn't seen Rose since that first night she came back. She's been upstairs in her bloody room, and when Rose wanted to see her that night? Hermione practically screamed at us to get out," Ron explained, his throat tight.

Harry contemplated this new information, "What caused her to do that? You just walked in with her and she said to leave?"

Ron swallowed, feeling his emotions get the better of him, "No. Rosie... she... she said hi to the baby..." Ron left the comment hanging.

"Ah," Harry nodded, understanding why Hermione had the reaction she did, "…so seeing Rose reminds her that she lost Maisie?" Harry formulated.

Ron shrugged, "I dunno. Maybe."

"Have you asked her?"

Ron scoffed, "In the maybe twenty words she's spoken to me? No. What's worse than her not speaking to me is her crying because of something I did. I just can't win."

Harry's eyebrows wrinkled, "Ron, you lost a child. No one wins in this. It's been devastating for the whole family, and we don't even feel a fraction of what you do. This doesn't just heal overnight, or in a few weeks. Who knows how long it'll take the pair of you to feel normal again. But it's you and Hermione. The two of you can get through anything. Don't give up on her."

"I'm not giving up on her!" Ron snapped, raising his voice at his best mate.

Ron watched as Harry watched him with knowing eyes.

Shit.

"Really? Since when is giving Hermione more than two weeks to stew in something a good idea? Last time I checked, going months not talking was one of your biggest regrets."

"This is completely different and you know that. This is not some petty argument! We lost a child!" Ron yelled, not even considering his wife might have heard him in the large cottage. He didn't realize tears had begun pouring down his face.

"I get that Ron! But, you know it isn't doing her any good to be sitting around just thinking about it! Talk to her!"

"You have no idea," Ron spat, looking away.

"You're right, I don't. And I don't have to. This is between you and your wife! I've known you both since we were eleven! Nothing will change the fact that when you two stop talking, you grow apart. Talk. To. Her. Get her to talk. Do something Ron! If you don't, you'll regret it."

A silence filled the room as Ron digested the information. He hated to admit it, but, Harry had a valid point.

His best mate watched on as he thought through what had been said.

Harry pushed the fringe back from his forehead and sighed, moving to stand. He waved his wand, disposing of the uneaten food, and sending the dishes to the sink.

"Just think about it. She loves you, Ron. And the Hermione we know is still in there. Maybe you just have to bring her back out," Harry shrugged on his coat before giving a pat to Ron's shoulder, and taking his exit.

...

It was next afternoon that Ron spoke to Hermione again, after his lunch with Harry. He had thought long and hard about what his best mate had said to him. And, as much as Ron hated to admit it, he was right. He knew keeping the distance between his wife and himself would only make things worse. And Ron had to stop getting frustrated with her. It wasn't helping anything, and it put a larger divide between the pair.

Ron entered their bedroom, which still had the curtains covering the large windows; a small fire crackled away in the fireplace. Hermione had come up a few hours ago for a nap, he assumed. She didn't say anything to him; neither did he to her. He saw her body beneath the bedclothes, a sight that was terribly familiar to him. He worked his way closer to the bed, which he had slept in the night prior, and crouched down beside the mattress, now eye level with his wife. She was sleeping, looking much more peaceful than she had in the past month.

He wondered if he should for a moment, as he hadn't felt his wife's skin for some time... Giving in, he used his large, freckled hand to brush some curly tendrils away from her face. She inhaled deeply at his touch and slowly opened her eyes. They sleepily gazed at him for a moment, before turning into the sad eyes he had witnessed for far too long now.

"Hey," Ron whispered, continuing to smooth her hair back, and brushing the side of her cheek gently.

"Ron?" Hermione hoarsely whispered, looking at him with questioning eyes. He sighed as he had no clue how this would go.

"I was thinking you should come to dinner tonight. The family misses you there, and it would do you good to get out of the house for a bit...Have some of mum's cooking," Ron chuckled, although Molly had insisted on him taking home several leftovers for Hermione each time he had gone.

He could have sworn her eyes had a glossy sheen painted over them the instant he suggested it. She shook her head negatively, "No... I'm just about to pump again... You go. See the family." She shifted, which effectively left his hand slipping from her head to the pillow behind her.

Ron bit the inside of his cheek with exasperation. He should have known it would go this way, heaving a careful breath he spoke, "Hermione, it'll be small tonight. Bill and Percy are both working, Charlie is over visiting Sophie's family, George and Angelina took that trip to Ireland... it'll just be Mum and Dad and Harry and Gin. That's all."

Hermione shook her head again, a panicked look in her eyes, "… I can't. You go." Her eyes danced away from his; Ron followed where her vision went, and felt another blow to his stomach. Lying on her bedside table was Masie's small blanket that she had been wrapped in at St. Mungo's. Ron hadn't noticed it being there before. He gave her the box the next morning after he had found it. Now, the delicate item was carefully draped across a book on her stand.

"Love, this isn't healthy," He could see her jaw set at his words, knowing that she was becoming upset again. He hated himself more than ever then. He knew what he was saying would upset her. "You need to get up and get out of this damn room. See the family, get back to normal, you know? We've got to get you out for some fresh air… You can't keep-"

Before Ron could finish a hawk Patronus flew into the room, "Weasley, open your bloody Floo! It's urgent!"

Ron moved his eye from his coworker's Patronus, and looked down at his wife who was looking toward the covered window than him. Tears were causing trails down her face. He sighed in frustration and pushed himself up from the bed, moving quickly to the Floo downstairs.

"Luxby?" Ron stared slack jawed at the Auror standing in his den. He was carrying something filthy in his arms.

The piercing screams that emitted from the item proved what it was.

"Weasley, we didn't know what to do. Found him under some rubble. The girl's missing. We think she hid the kid. No sign of her, but, they followed Gnash and think he still has her hostage. Can't take little man to Mungo's 'til it's safe."

"So, you brought him here?" Ron's eyes stared at the wailing infant, that his coworker was now transferring into his arms. The babe continued screaming as his face was scrunched with upset.

"Didn't know where else to take him. I've got to get back. Sorry," and with that, Luxby left, leaving Ron with a baby, no older than a few days by the look of it, wailing in his arms.

Ron looked down at the infant who was terribly upset with whatever was happening at the moment. Just covered in a small piece of dirty cloth, he was filthy and the smell of him made Ron's stomach turn. Ron's mind raced. He had no idea what to do with an infant. He recalled what Luxby said about St. Mungo's, and swore under his breath at the realization that he was responsible for a baby that suddenly.

"Ron's what's going-" Hermione entered the room, in an oversized jumper, and coming down the final step. Her eyes drawn to the piercing sounds of the infant in her husband's arms.

"Is that a..." Hermione couldn't finish the question, as she was just too shocked to find her husband holding a filthy infant in his arms.

"Yeah, remember I told you about the mission a bit ago? The team found him on their mission for that kidnapped girl. Assuming he's hers... Autar Gnash is still on the loose and they can't take him to Mungo's until he's found." Ron watched Hermione's face, the thought just now hitting him how hard it must be to have a baby in such close vicinity since they lost their own, not long ago. He cursed Luxby for bringing a child over after he knew what their family had been through. He scrambled for something to say.

"I'll take him to Harry's. He and Gin can watch him," Ron reasoned aloud and began to move toward the Floo.

After a moment, Hermione spoke through the wailing, "No. Hand him to me."

Ron was fairly confident that caring for a child wasn't on the list of things for Hermione to do that would help her healing process.

"It's okay. He'll be fine. I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Just hand him here!" Hermione insisted, but Ron looked at her warily; the infant wailing in his hands.

"Love, are you sure? I can take him to Harry's-"

"Yes. Give me the baby. I have an idea."

Ron reluctantly handed the small infant to Hermione who adjusted the dingy cloth around his body. She muttered a cleansing charm, hoping that would make him feel a bit more comfortable. She rocked the screaming baby gently, wanting to soothe the child before she carefully brought the squirming human close to her chest, pulling the shoulder to her jumper down as well. She peeled away the layer of her nursing pad, and brought the infant to her breast. The wailing continued as she held him there, whispering comfortingly as Ron looked on, stunned.

"Come on, now. Latch on now, darling," She cooed, readjusting herself to the crying mouth. Suddenly, the infant attached and the screaming cries were muffled, and then muted. Hermione and Ron both let out a relieved breath.

"That's better, isn't it? You were probably starved, poor dear." She tutted, to the content infant nursing away. She brushed her fingers along the child's few wisps of brown hair.

"Ron, would you get one of the newborn nappies for him? And look for one of Rose's old sleep suits... I might have kept a few from when she was born." Ron stood transfixed, brought back into motion by Hermione's request.

When he returned, Hermione was still in the chair with the infant lying on her breast. His mouth was no longer latched, and he seemed to be snoozing away happily. Hermione sat gazing with a mixture of emotions at the child, only looking up when Ron spoke.

"This is the smallest I could find, but we can transfigure it to his size."

Hermione covered herself once more, and set to work. They ran a bath for the infant in the kitchen sink. Hermione just imagined what kind of grime he had gone through and knew a thorough cleaning would help the infant in a multitude of ways. He awoke during the bath, but only seemed perturbed as they worked the washcloth around his skin, working off the layers of filth that rested on it. His cry was hoarse and heartbreaking. Hermione tried her best to be gentle, but, the grime wouldn't remove without a hint of force. She spoke to the child lovingly, wondering if this had been the only time in his life to be spoken to affectionately.

After they had cleaned him the best they could, they placed him in his first ever nappy, and a small sleeper that Rose wore when she was a newborn. Ron transfigured it to his size, as well as making it a pastel green instead of soft pink.

The infant was obviously dehydrated, and never had a wellness check after he was born, concerning Hermione. She summoned a few books that she had read since the war to care for infants. She found a few substitutes of potions and had the infant suck them down. She noticed the color flushing to his skin, making her sigh another breath of relief. She had done all she could until they could take the babe to St. Mungo's.

She retired to the comfortable rocking chair in the corner of their bedroom she had resided in before. Holding the infant and lowering her other sleeve to nurse the malnourished child. She sat rocking and feeding him for quite some time. She wasn't sure just how long.

Ron sat on their bed watching her. He couldn't help but wonder if this is what it would have been like, watching his own child nurse... he shook his head quickly as he felt tears push behind his eyelids. He glanced back at his wife who was now holding the slumbering child, still against her breast. He could finally sort out the emotions in her eyes. There was obviously a large amount of love there. But, there was also hurt, and pain. Almost as if she was reminding herself this was not her baby. He sighed as he continued to watch.

"You want me to put him in the cot?" Ron asked, as he stood from the bed and walked over to her. Hermione shook her head negatively, without looking up from the baby. Ron exhaled as he squatted down to meet her eyes.

"Love, you need your rest too..." She gazed back at him with the same emotional eyes. She took her hand and cradled Ron's cheek, the first touch he had from her in ages.

"He's nothing over a few days old, yet, has never been held while he slept. I need to do this for him, love." She slipped her hand away and looked back down at the sleeping infant.

"You go ahead. I'll be a bit longer."

Ron sighed once more, feeling the rush of emotions come pounding down on him. He ground his teeth as he went downstairs to ask his parents for Rose to stay the night.

Remember me? So sorry this took me forever to get up. I still have more to write for you all. I look forward to hearing what you think, and possibly any predictions!

More to come!