Disclaimer: Not mine, and never will be.

A/N: Told you that a new part of my story started. Hope you'll like it. It's a very emotional chapter, but I hope you'll like it. And I hope it isn't too pathetic…

To Halo of Darkness: Thanks so much for your help and I'm happy that you graduated!

Reconciliation

'Pop'.

Ron Apparated in front of his house door, a bag in one hand, the key in the other. He turned the key in the lock of the door and it opened. He stepped inside the dark house.

"Hermione?" he called from the living room. "Hermione, I'm here." He entered the kitchen and placed the bag on the table. "I've bought the milk you asked me to."

He looked around; not only were there no signs of Hermione, but, to his great horror, there were no signs of dinner either. "Hermione?" he called again, his tone a little bit alarmed.

He came back into the living room and turned on the lights. He looked around; there were no indications of a fight. Ron sighed in relief, thinking that very likely his wife was still at work, when he noticed some powder near the chimney. He bent down to have a better look and noticed that the carpet was covered in ash. As if someone had missed the fireplace, or as if his hand had been shaking furiously.

He looked up and for the first time saw a small piece of parchment on the beam right above the fireplace. It took him several minutes to decipher the message. There were big wet spots where the ink had faded away, as if someone had cried on it.

When he finally managed to pull out a sense from the message, he had to read it several times. In a shaky writing, so different from Hermione's usual one, there were written these words:

Ron. Rachel is at St. Mungo's, please hurry up. She might lose the child. Hermione.

Ron swallowed hard, then, and without even thinking, he picked up a handful of Floo Powder and stepped inside the fireplace.

"St. Mungo's," he said hoarsely.

---

Hermione raised her eyes from the cup of tea that she was sipping and looked at the young man sitting across from her. He was pale and seemed to suffer from lack of sleep. Hermione tried to smile reassuringly, but she wasn't so sure that she was succeeding.

"Everything will be fine, Emeric," she said, but couldn't recognize her own voice.

Emeric looked at her and nodded, not believing a word she said.

"Do your parents know?" asked Hermione.

Emeric nodded. "P-professor McGonagall owled them. She told them that I was going to spend the night away from school."

Hermione nodded. "Are they coming?"

Emeric shrugged. "I don't know." He looked at Hermione with concern. "And Rachel's father? I-is he coming?"

"I don't know," she sighed.

"I-I think he will," said Emeric, gulping. "Or, better, he has," he amended, nodding at the door of the waiting room.

Hermione turned to look at the door and her heart skipped a beat. Ron was standing there, with an upset look and his clothes all covered with ash.

Hermione stood from the chair she had collapsed on hours earlier and let the cup of tea clatter to the floor as she threw herself towards her husband.

She hugged him, burying her face into his chest. "Oh, Ron," she whispered, sobbing. "Rachel…" but her voice died in her throat as she thought about her daughter.

Ron glanced at Emeric and then looked down at Hermione. He hugged her back and stroked her hair. "Hermione, what happened?" he whispered into her ear.

Hermione sniffled and looked up at him, her eyes filled with tears. She clasped at his robe and gestured at the chair. Ron wrapped an arm around her back and, holding her tightly, led her towards the nearest chair and made her sit.

"Hermione?" he called her gently, sitting down next to her. "What happened?"

Hermione shook her head and started to sob again. Emeric knew that she had fought back the tears in front of him, but now that her husband was there she couldn't restrain herself anymore.

Then unexpectedly, Ron looked at Emeric and said, "What happened to my daughter?"

Emeric took a moment to recover from the shock that the man that, only a few months before, was going to strangle him was now talking to him with such despair in his voice.

"S-she was going to lose the child," said Emeric in a bare whisper. He looked intently at Ron's face, trying to capture any expression that could have betrayed his feelings.

But Ron's face remained impassive.

"How?" asked Ron, and his voice wasn't as steady as Emeric would have expected from his face.

"She Apparated, but left the child behind," explained Emeric, trying to close out of his mind the memories of that terrible moment.

"Apparated? But, have you already done the test?" asked Ron, surprised.

Emeric glanced at him and had to remind himself that Rachel hasn't talked to her father since Christmas. "No. We had the first lesson this afternoon."

"The first lesson? And did she Apparate during the first lesson?" asked Ron, pride evident in his tone of voice.

Emeric nodded. "But she shouldn't have. Madam Pomfrey told her that she shouldn't have attended the lessons, not at all. And Rachel wasn't participating in them. She just sat there, looking at us all, and then – she did it." Emeric took a deep breath; he was talking very hastily. "But she left the baby behind – it was terrible. And they said that Rachel too – she's in danger." Emeric buried his face in his hands and, for a moment, Ron thought that he had stopped breathing. The only noise audible in the waiting room was Hermione's hushed sobs against Ron's chest.

All of a sudden the door leading to Rachel's room burst open and a Healer exited. He was a tall man with blond hair and extremely blue eyes. Ron and Hermione raised their eyes, while Emeric jumped to his feet.

"Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, right?" asked the Healer, looking at Ron and Hermione, who nodded. "Emeric Malfoy?" he asked Emeric, who nodded slightly.

"How is she?" asked Emeric hastily.

"Better if you sit down, Mr. Malfoy," said the Healer, placing a hand on Emeric's shoulder and forcing him back into the chair. He sat on the other side of the room, across from them all.

"Rachel is sleeping," said the Healer, smiling slightly.

"She's fine, isn't she?" asked Hermione, concerned.

The Healer nodded. "Yes, Mrs. Weasley, she's fine."

"And the baby?" asked Emeric hoarsely.

The Healer looked at him with piercing blue eyes, and his smile faded away. "We did our best to save both the mother and the child, but the baby was in a serious danger."

Emeric paled so much that his grey eyes shone on his face like two pools of iron. "Are you saying…" His voice trailed off, too afraid to even think about the possibility that his baby could have never be born.

The Healer shook his head. "No, the baby isn't dead; he is still in his mother's stomach, but we'll have to see what is going to happen in the next two days. If he'll pass the next couple of days without further complications then we can say that he'll very probably survive."

Emeric swallowed hard. "V-very probably?" he asked hoarsely.

The Healer nodded. "What happened is an extremely complicated thing We've never had to deal with something like that. But we did our best and now we can only wait."

Emeric nodded and, closing his eyes, sunk into the armchair. He opened them only some moments later, when he felt the pressure of a hand on his left shoulder. He turned to see the father of his girlfriend with a serious expression on his face. Ron, with a nod, tightened the grip on Emeric's shoulder.

Emeric nodded back, then he looked at the Healer. "Can I see her?"

The Healer rubbed his forehead. "She's asleep."

"Can I stay with her until she wakes up?" he asked huskily.

"I don't know," said the Healer. "I don't think that you-"

"I just want to hold her hand until she wakes up," interrupted Emeric imploringly.

The Healer's eyes ran from Emeric to Ron and Hermione, who both nodded.

The Healer looked back at Emeric and nodded too. "Okay, but be very careful with everything you do. She's extremely weak, and doesn't need to be overexcited by anybody."

Emeric would have snapped at the Healer that he wasn't going to jump on Rachel as soon as he saw her, but he didn't find the willpower. Actually, it took great effort to even stand up and walk towards the door, watched by Ron and Hermione.

As soon as he disappeared outside of the door, the Healer turned his attention towards Rachel's parents. "We are going to tell you when she'll wake up," said the Healer seriously.

They nodded. "My sister works here," said Ron. "Can't she watch over Rachel?"

"Your sister is Ginny Weasley, right, Mr. Weasley?" the Healer asked, frowning in the effort of thinking.

Ron nodded.

"I'm afraid not, Mr. Weasley."

"Why?" asked Hermione weakly.

"Because she doesn't work in this ward. She stays in the ward for Magical Diseases," answered the Healer matter-of-factly.

"Can you inform her, at least?" asked Ron.

"Yes, of course, Mr. Weasley," answered the Healer promptly. He looked at Hermione and said, "Mrs. Weasley, you should go home and have some rest, or else we'll soon have to take care of another Weasley here."

Hermione looked at him darkly. "I'm not going anywhere, not until you tell me that my daughter and her baby are both fine."

The Healer sighed. "I knew that you would say that. Anyway, we'll keep you informed if there is any news."

"Thank you," said Ron.

The Healer nodded. He stood up and, without a further word, walked out of the waiting room, leaving Ron and Hermione alone.

Hermione buried her face again in Ron's chest and sobbed quietly, but when she heard Ron's voice, she pushed herself from him and looked at him.

"It's my fault," he said, and Hermione looked at him, more surprised at the tone of his voice, something that verged on despair, than at his words.

"No, Ron, it's not," she said, placing a hand on his cheek.

Ron took her wrist and pushed her hand away from him. "I prayed for that," he said so coldly that his voice sounded almost unnatural.

"Y-you prayed for what?" asked Hermione slowly.

"For that baby to go away. For that baby to die a natural death. For Rachel to lose her child," he whispered.

Hermione looked at him with her mouth wide open, not able to think or say anything reassuring. She felt Ron's grip tighten around her wrist and all she could say was, "Ron, you are hurting me," in a very thin voice.

Ron looked at her wrist without letting her go. "I know," he said inexpressively. "Seems like I keep on hurting people."

"Ron, that's not true," said Hermione hastily. "You didn't hurt Rachel. It's not your fault if that thing happened."

"Hermione, when I first read your note near the chimney I'm not sure what I felt," he said, looking in front of him.

"W-what do you mean?" stammered Hermione.

"I'm not sure that I cared," Ron answered.

"What did you feel?"

Slowly, Ron let her wrist go, and now it was Hermione's turn to catch his arm. "Ron, what did you feel?" she asked with an urgency in her voice that she didn't intend.

Ron sighed deeply. "I don't know. I think I was – scared."

Hermione smiled softly.

"What?" he asked, confused.

"Ron, that means that you care," she whispered. "That means that you love Rachel and her baby."

Ron looked at her and Hermione saw that his eyes were shining from tears threatening to spill over onto his cheeks. "The baby?" he asked croakily. "I don't love the baby."

"Yes, you do," she said softly. "You do, but you didn't know it yet."

Ron looked at her. He opened his mouth to reply, but no sound exited. Hermione smiled. "You love him more than you can even imagine."

"Hermione," he interrupted her, "how can I love someone that I wished would die?"

"You didn't want the baby to die," said Hermione. "You think you wanted it, but that's not true."

"How do you know?"

Hermione came closer to Ron and kissed him softly on his lips. "You were scared; you cared for the life of your daughter and her child."

Ron looked at her with his eyes wide, trying to convince himself that what his wife was saying was the truth, but it was hard. He felt so guilty, even if he knew that it wasn't his fault if Rachel had almost lost her baby. He felt guilty because he knew that the baby was his grandson, and if he died that very day he wouldn't even have the chance to show his love to him. Ron was afraid because he was going to lose someone of his family, and the fear was amplified by the fact that the last time that he had thought about that unborn child, he wished that it would have never exited.

"Ron?"

Ron looked at Hermione and smiled. "How do you know always everything?" he asked softly.

"I'm a little Know-It-All, remember that," she answered, smiling back.

"I know," he said. Then his smile faded away as he said, "Do you think that Rachel will forgive me?"

"I think that it's you that has to forgive her for her behaviour. I mean, on Christmas day you'd already asked her to forgive you, and she has been very mean – but, Ron, you have to understand her, the pregnancy and everything, she was-"

"I know," answered Ron, cutting her off. "I just want to start over on the right foot."

"You will," answered Hermione.

"Ron! Hermione!"

They both turned their heads towards the door, where a panting Ginny was trying to catch her breath, with her hands on her knees. She looked at them. "What happened?" she asked.

---

The first thing that Ginny said after she listened to what happened to Rachel was that she had never heard of something like that; and she meant both that someone was able to Apparate after only one lesson and that a pregnant woman could have left her baby behind while Apparating.

"Rachel is great – I mean, Apparating at the first lesson," said Ron after a while.

Both Ginny and Hermione glared at him. "Yes, she's fantastic, but she shouldn't have done something like that," said Hermione. "Not at all."

"I know," sighed Ron. "But would you ever guess that she could manage to do it just before the first lesson ended?"

Hermione shook her head.

"She's all her mother," concluded Ginny.

Ron looked at her expectantly, but Ginny didn't add anything about the father. He was going to say something, but at that very moment the door opened and a Healer entered the waiting room from Rachel's quarters.

"She's awake," she said, passing in front of Ron, Hermione, and Ginny with some bloody gauze.

"How does she feel?" asked Hermione anxiously.

The Healer stopped and looked at her. "She's in shock. Now her boyfriend is with her, but I think that they have almost finished. I heard her say that she wants to see her parents."

As the Healer exited from the waiting room, Emeric entered from the opposite door. He seemed quite calm, but still extremely pale. He glanced at Ginny and Hermione and then he looked at Ron.

"I think that she wants to talk to you," said Emeric to Ron and Hermione.

Hermione nodded. "How does she feel?" she asked, concerned.

Emeric shook his head and collapsed on a chair. "Not too well. But she's awake."

Ron nodded. He stood up and turned towards Hermione, offering her a hand to help her up; Hermione didn't take it. She raised her eyes and looked at him. "Go on, you have to talk to her," she said slowly.

Ron looked at her and gulped. "M-maybe it's better if you come with me."

"No," she said firmly. "It's something you have to do by yourself."

"But you are her mother and-"

"Ron, go on and talk to her. And, please, hurry up, I want to see my daughter," said Hermione.

Ron turned and walked uncertainly towards the door of Rachel's room, passing in front of Emeric, patting the younger boy's shoulder awkwardly.

He pushed the door open and entered.

The bedroom was extremely white. There were two rows of three beds on each side of the door, but only the bed near the window was taken. Between the beds there were some bedside-tables and chairs galore. Ron walked slowly towards the last bed on his right and sat on a chair near the bottom of it. He looked at Rachel for the first time, and saw that she was looking back at him.

Rachel was wearing one of those white dresses that they make you wear when you are in a hospital. She had some little needles in her left arm and a large amount of gauze around her head. She seemed so pale that she was barely recognizable amongst the whiteness of the room. But there she was, looking at her father as if she were a five-year-old child that had just made a mess.

"Hey," Ron said awkwardly.

Rachel didn't answer, and she didn't move. She kept on looking at her father, holding her breath.

Then she buried her head in her hands and started to cry.

Ron looked at Rachel and, for a long moment, really saw his daughter again. He stretched an arm towards her and started to brush her hair, bushy as Hermione's and red as his.

Rachel stretched her arms towards Ron and he hugged her. Ron felt her tears running down his neck and started to whisper into her ear, "Shhh, honey, Dad is here."

Rachel sniffled noisily and let him go. "I'm a terrible mother," she said, sobbing.

Ron looked at her, waiting for everything but that. "No, Rachel, you are not. You are-"

Rachel sobbed louder and said, "You were right, I'm too young to have a baby. I almost killed him."

Ron would have given everything to not have said anything like that. "Rachel, you are not a terrible mother, and yes, you are young, but not too young to have a baby."

Rachel looked at her father with her eyes filled with tears. "Emeric and I had a row," she said, out of the blue. "No, not now," she added quickly, noticing the look of pure disgust on her father's face. "Before the Apparition lesson. He told me that I shouldn't have been at the lesson at all and I got angry with him." She looked at Ron. "Does he care for our child more than I do?" she asked in a bare whisper.

"No," said Ron quickly. "No, he doesn't. He cares as much as you do. You just did – you didn't know what would have happened."

"Madam Pomfrey told me that I shouldn't have done it. She said that it could be very dangerous for the baby," she said, rubbing her stomach. "But I didn't listen to her. I thought that I was too intelligent to do anything that would harm my child." She looked at her father. "I'm really stupid, aren't I?"

Ron stood up from the chair and sat down on the bed, near Rachel. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pushed her towards him. "You are not stupid. You are intelligent, just like your mother: always the best in everything. The best marks at school, the best witch who casts spells and charms, and the best mother in the world."

Rachel looked at her father with her mouth open. "D-do you really think that? I was afraid that I would have never passed the Apparition test if I didn't follow all the lessons, and I almost killed my child because I was afraid of falling behind the others."

Ron nodded. "It's just that you want to excel in everything, exactly like your mother. But you can't be the best in everything you do. It's all right to make mistakes; you are only human. You wanted to do two things at the same time, but you can't. Sometimes you just have to stop and think what's really worth being the best."

Rachel nodded and leaned her head on her father's shoulder, she sniffled quietly for the last time before asking, "A-are you still angry with me?"

Ron smiled and, placing his index finger under her chin, made her look at him. "I was afraid that you were angry with me."

Rachel smiled back and another tear fell down her cheek. "No," she said, shaking her head. "Not at all. I felt so bad after what happened on Christmas day that I couldn't have been angry with you."

"Well, I'm not angry with you, either," said Ron calmly.

Rachel nodded. "And Emeric?" she asked, unsure.

"Emeric what?" asked Ron, confused.

"Y-you aren't going to try to kill him, are you?"

Ron's mouth curled into a soft smile. "No."

Rachel let out the breath that she didn't know she was holding.

"He's quite a good boy," said Ron unexpectedly. "For a Malfoy," he added quickly.

Rachel smiled and touched her belly.

Ron lowered his eyes and stretched the hand that was not behind Rachel's back over her stomach without touching it. "Can I?" he asked awkwardly.

Rachel took her father's hand and guided it to her stomach. "Can you feel it?" she asked him softly.

Ron nodded, speechless. He felt the bloated stomach of his daughter under his fingers and, dived by a thin layer of skin, the vague shape of the body of his grandson, unusually motionless. He saw Rachel's belly rise as she inspired deeply.

"Usually the baby moves more, but I haven't felt him since I woke up," she said, and Ron raised his head just in time to see more tears falling down her cheeks.

"The baby will be fine," he whispered to her, before kissing her on her hair. He hoped to sound more convincing than how he actually felt.

"The Healer said that the future of my child will be decided in the next two days." Rachel looked at Ron with puffy eyes. "How can I survive the next days with the thought that my child could die and that – that it is all my fault?" she asked, starting to cry again.

Ron hugged his daughter tightly and started to rock her gently. "It's not your fault, Rachel," he whispered.

"It is," she said, sobbing.

Ron let her go and took her shoulders. "Listen," he said, looking into her eyes, "if you knew that you would have harmed your baby so badly, would you have ever attended that lesson?" he asked seriously.

Rachel lowered her eyes and shook her head. "No," she murmured.

Ron loosened the grip on her shoulders and smiled. "That's what I thought."

Rachel smiled softly. "I'm so stupid," she said again.

"Well, you are also my daughter, not only Hermione's. A little bit of stupidity is expected," he said sweetly.

"Oh, dad!" exclaimed Rachel, burying her head in his chest.

Ron stroked her hair delicately and kissed her softly on her head. "Better if I go out and let your mother and your Aunt Ginny come in and see you," he said, removing the arm from her back.

Rachel nodded and Ron got up from the bed. He moved towards the door and stopped when he heard his daughter calling him.

"Yes?" he said, turning.

"Dad, can you tell Emeric to come in after Mum and Aunt Ginny have gone?" she asked.

Ron looked at her with an unreadable expression, then, slowly, his lips curled into a smile. "Of course, Rachel," he said before opening the door.

"Dad!" she called him again.

"Yes?"

"I love you."

"Love you too, Rachel."