Chapter 24 (The last chapter...)

It had been a month since they had reversed the spell. Ron had continued to work diligently at his rehab, spending ten to twelve hours a day working on some aspect of his recovery. While he was no longer improving at the rapid pace he had enjoyed the first few weeks, he was remarkably better compared to where he had been only five weeks prior. There were still some things that were out of reach, but his physical strength and stamina were much better. He could be up and about for stretches of nearly four hours at a time without getting too worn out. But, his body still needed to rest, and often sleep, midday to regain some strength. He'd actually been cleared to do anything his body felt strong enough to handle, and that had been something he and Hermione had quickly embraced in the bedroom. While they both wanted to explore that even more, there was still a limited reserve of energy, and they both knew he had to keep pushing on his recovery – however painful the sacrifice.

In addition building overall strength and stamina, he spent almost half of each day building back his fine motor skills. He had initially scoffed at the different therapy supplies the hospital had sent for him to work on. He insisted it looked like a nursery school with boards of buttons, buckles, shoestrings, switches and placing different shaped blocks into various shaped holes. But then he tried to do them and was quickly humbled, realizing just how far he still had to go to get back to the ability to do things he used to take for granted. There had been a lot of grumbling about how he wouldn't have to bother if they'd just let him use magic, but even Ron knew that wasn't really true. And so, he diligently worked at re-learning the skills of buttoning his shirts, zipping his trousers, tying his laces, chopping vegetables, using scissors, and his personal favorite – throwing and catching a quaffle.

Unfortunately tossing the quaffle around couldn't yet be on a broom as the healers insisted on at least another month before he tried to use his magic again. And, they warned, that even that would have to start slowly. So, he had set a personal goal of wanting to be back up on a broom by his birthday in three months. He had tried to convince Hermione to re-learn the skill with him and give flying another chance, but he had yet to win that argument.

The only other remaining barrier was his voice. He could speak some, and it was improving, but it was painful and didn't sound at all like Ron when he did. Ron thought that many of the exercises that he was working on to build his vocal capacity back were absolutely barmy. Hermione had tried to explain the logic of all of them, but he still didn't quite understand the point of singing sounds or pushing against a wall. But, barmy or not, they did seem to be helping somehow. Just not nearly fast enough for his liking. But any time he would get frustrated, Hermione would remind him that less than three months ago she hadn't even been able to communicate with him in any way, and that would shut him up and refocus his attitude on his rehab.

Ron's attitude most of the time was optimistic. Occasionally he would get frustrated by what he was still unable to do, but most of the time he was able to focus on the positive and stay focused on what he had instead of what he didn't.

And, one of the things he was most grateful for was the healing strides he and Hermione had made in the relationship with his family. When Ron and Hermione had been able to go through the large stack of letters from everyone, they each had been in tears. Each individual had been so contrite and so grateful that Hermione had refused to believe what the experts had said. The apologies from his mum had been the most meaningful, as she had stepped up and apologized not only for this experience, but for not believing her all those years ago when the press painted Hermione to be in a relationship with Harry. Hermione had been so touched that Molly was truly making amends for all of the past hurts, and the two of them were now closer than ever.

Despite the renewed relationships, Ron and Hermione had asked that visitors be limited to a small handful each day, if for nothing else to not overwhelm them and to allow Ron to stay focused on his therapy. And, as his voice was still struggling, he still relied on Hermione to speak for him most of the time, and trying to manage that with a large group of people all wanting to talk with Ron at once would be overwhelming.

So, his mum had promptly arranged a schedule of dinners where she would cook the meal and send it with the designated people for the evening. Unsurprisingly, his parents had been the first evening, and Hermione had asked George to come as well to help smooth out any awkward moments. It had been stilted at first, but they soon had gotten past the apologies and hugs and settled into a comfortable dinner peppered with amusing anecdotes from George. At one point, Hermione had managed to corner Arthur alone in the kitchen for a while where she finally asked the question that had been on her mind since Harry described his initial reaction to the news.

"Mr. Weasley, may I ask you a question?"

"Only if you call me Arthur, dear," he said with a wink.

"Oh, alright," she blushed. "But, please be patient with me while I adjust. Old habits are hard to break."

"Oh, don't I know it."

"Anyway, Arthur, can I ask you something?"

"What is it?"

"Well, it seems to me, and I could be wrong here, but from everyone's reactions to everything, you seem the least surprised. And, so I was wondering if perhaps you had suspected Ron was in there all along?"

Arthur Weasley smiled thoughtfully and put down the bowl he had been holding. "Well, Hermione, I suppose there isn't an easy answer to that question. The straightforward answer is 'no,' I didn't really know he was alive and trapped in his own body. Hoped, maybe, but certainly didn't know. But, while you refused to believe what the experts told us about Ron, well, I guess I took a different approach."

"How so?"

"I guess you could say I refused to believe that there could be a problem you couldn't solve."

"Pardon?"

"Hermione," he said as he walked over to stand in front of her, placing his hand on her shoulder. "They don't call you the brightest witch of your age as a cute nickname. You are a brilliant witch, but it isn't because you know more facts than anyone else. Albus, Minerva, Severus, they all knew more magic than you, and especially more about dark magic. But, you were the one who figured out that there was a basilisk loose in the school. It wasn't because you knew more, it was because you think differently. You are brilliant not because of the knowledge you have but because of how you look at problems. You somehow see the pieces all fit together in ways that others cannot. It proved to be the same when you were hunting horcruxes. You didn't know more information than others, but you saw how the patterns emerged in such a way that you were able to get Harry to the solution."

"That wasn't just me-"

"Oh, I know," he interrupted. "Ron and Harry each had particular skills Albus knew would be needed for that mission to be successful. But you, my dear, you were the one who he knew could look at an unsolveable problem, step back, look at it differently and find another way to look at it. And, I refused to believe that this problem was any different. I haven't seen you put your mind to a problem that you didn't figure out."

"Well, no one is always right-"

"Again," he interrupted. "I am certainly not saying anyone is always right. But, when you are fully focused on something, you always figure something out. And, while I may be a stodgy old wizard, I know true love when I see it, Hermione. And that is something you and my son have. It is a rare gift, one most people never get to experience. But knowing the love you have for Ron and your ability to solve impossible problems, I refused to believe you wouldn't bring him back to us one way or another."

She stared at him, slightly dumfounded.

"But – why did, how come you never..."

"As I said in my letter, Hermione, I am not without sin here. I treated you poorly. I saw how upset Molly was after every visit to see him, and selfishly I worried that between the grief over Fred's death and then Ron that she would not recover and I would lose her as well. So, when she suggested fewer visits, I didn't fight her on it. That doesn't mean I shouldn't have come myself – popped over from work and such as Harry did. I am surprised at how quickly you did it. But, never for a second did I think you wouldn't figure it out."

Hermione looked at him, clearly at a loss for words. So, Arthur simply hugged her and kissed her cheek. Then in classic Arthur Weasley fashion he promptly change the conversation altogether.

"Do we have any whipped cream to go with that treacle tart Molly made?"

And with that, the subject had been closed.

Other dinners had been less dramatic, with fun tales from the dragon reserve the night Charlie and Percy came, and talk of baby clothes when Bill and Fleur came for dinner. But, today would be different.

Today was Christmas Day, and they had convinced the healers to clear him to finally use the floo network again. And, so they would all be gathering at The Burrow for dinner. It was the first time everyone would be together since Fred's funeral. But it would also be a party, and Molly had invited Neville and Hannah, Alice, Luna, Hagrid, Professor McGonagall and several other friends from school. And, Ron knew there were to be other surprise guests as well. Suddenly, a flustered Hermione emerged from the loo interrupting Ron's thoughts.

"I don't know why I even bother," she huffed as she shoved a curl behind her ear. "I can spend an hour on it and yet my hair looks the exact same."

"But I love your hair the way it is right now," he said silently.

"I can't imagine why," she protested.

"Because most people see you as prim and proper and totally controlled, but I know this whole passionate, wild and creative side of you that they don't see. And your hair reminds me of that. It has a mind of its own. Well, that, and not to mention it looks damn sexy all spread out on a pillow beneath me."

She playfully smacked his arm. "Oh, stop. Anyway, we need to get going. Did you get all the presents put into the bag for us to take?"

"Yes, all presents are present and accounted for," he smirked.

"Ha, ha," she said with an eye roll.

"Are you ready for all of this?"

"Yes," she said earnestly. "You know, for a long time I couldn't ever imagine me getting there, but I really am. I love your family, and we've all come a long way in a short time. And, holidays are about celebrating families – and a few awkward moments are always a part of that, aren't they?"

"Oh yes, absolutely. That's what gives us all the gossip to talk about with the rest of the family."

"Precisely!" she laughed. "I just wish my parents were going to be able to be there. I haven't seen them in so long, but I understand with their clinic schedule they just weren't going to be able to get here in time. But, it will be so good to see them next week. I have missed them so much."

"I know you have, love. And it will be amazing to finally see them in your arms."

She smiled and leaned up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

"Well, I suppose this is as good as it gets, so let's go to The Burrow and get you another maroon jumper!"

He laughed and followed her into their living room.

"Right. Of course, now that I've finally come to appreciate them she'll probably change and do it in green or something."

"Oh, I wouldn't count on it."

"I know. And I'm not. But it will be good to get back to some traditions, you know?"

She nodded and turned to see Ron grab the bag of presents. "Are you really ready to floo? Any concerns at all?"

"No. None. I have enough voice to say those words."

"OK. But you go first so I'll know if something doesn't work right."

"Fair enough," he nodded.

Then he stepped into the floo holding the bag of presents, threw down the floo powder and without another thought said, "The Burrow," in his croaking voice. And off he went.

Hermione sighed in relief and then did the same.

Soon they were both engulfed in a room of embraces, Christmas crowns and mouth-watering smells. Ron managed to just smile and use facial expressions to greet most everyone, and soon they had settled into a Weasley Christmas. Molly declared they were to open presents before supper, and so they crammed everyone into the bursting sitting room. Several presents were exchanged, and Hermione was in tears when she received her first Weasley jumper with an 'H' on it.

"Should have done that years ago," Molly tutted. "But this year has been about starting fresh in many ways."

Hermione hugged her warmly and quickly put on her jumper.

"Oh, wait," George said. "Where is that other present that had Hermione's name on it? Harry did you leave it upstairs?"

"Oh, yes," Harry said. "Thanks, George. I'll pop up there now and bring it down."

Hermione looked at Ron and shrugged. But when she turned back towards the stairs, she was stunned. There on the stairs were her parents, grinning at her with open arms. As soon as the shock wore off, she bolted towards them and captured them in a fierce embrace.

"I'm so sorry," she cried. "And I love you so much!"

"Oh, we love you too, Hermione. We're so glad you are ok."

The other family members tried to allow them a private moment, but then again, there is only so much privacy anyone can expect to have at The Burrow. Ron walked up behind her smiling and shook her father's hand.

"Ron, can you believe it?" she gawked.

"Oh, Hermione, who do you think got us here?" her mum asked.

"What?" she said, her head whipping back around to look at Ron, who gave her a sheepish, lopsided grin and shrugged.

"Well," her father said. "We had planned to come next week like we'd told you. But then we received the most lovely, heartfelt letter from your young man, here, and we knew we had to make here for Christmas after all."

"Thank you," Hermione said as she hugged Ron. "Thank you so much."

"Well, we'll have a chance to visit more after the presents and such, let's settle back into the group for a while, alright?"

"Alright," Hermione nodded, still slightly in shock at seeing her parents.

Chairs were brought in, and soon the Grangers were sitting next to their daughter and enjoying the spectacle. People were oohing and aaahing over the gifts, and the parcels under the tree were dwindling. Finally, Ron pulled one out with Hermione's name on it and brought it over to her.

"Huh, doesn't say who it's from," she observed.

She focused on unwrapping the paper, and then found a small box. When she opened it, she found a diamond ring and looked up to find Ron on his knee in front of her. Gasping, she covered her mouth in shock as Ron started to speak.

"Hermione," he said aloud in a strong but scratchy voice. Then slowly but steadily he continued, "I've practiced with the speech therapist for weeks now to be able to say this aloud for all to hear. I love you more than life itself, and your amazing dedication over the past year has shown me you feel the same. Life with you was what I have always been fighting for, and I don't want to let another day go by without laying claim to that future. Hermione Jean Granger, will you marry me?"

She burst into tears and kissed him immediately. The room erupted into whistles and catcalls, but then Ron pulled back from the kiss and asked, "so that's a yes then?"

"Of course that's a yes, you ridiculous man. I would love to marry you!"

"We finally get our happily ever after, Hermione," he said to her silently.

She grinned, leaning in for a kiss as she silently replied, "Yes we do. But, in a way it isn't that surprising. I guess I just refused to believe there was any other option for us."

"Well, then, I am glad you seem to always be right," he said before he held her face in his hands and kissed her once again.

(A/N: I just wanted to say thanks for following along on this journey with me. As always, I can't tell you how much your reviews and notes of encouragement mean to me even when you don't hear back from me directly. And, I will say again - if you can't find the story you want to read, then I really encourage you to write it yourself. It continues to be a rewarding experience for me. I am trying to work on some of my own stories now and spend less time on fanfics, but I have to admit that it is somehow comforting to come back and write about characters I feel I know and love when I hit writers block in my own new universes. So, as it helps me write more overall, I will most likely keep writing these stories as I continue to pursue other writing channels as well. Thanks again for reading my works...carrytheotter)