Hello everyone!

I'd like to thank all the nice wonderful people who read this work. Writing this fic has been a lot of fun, so much, that I've grown a beard fact:

Every time a man shaves, an angel loses its wings.

This piece has not been beta-ed. If you catch a mistake, please let me know so I can fix it and learn. Also, reviews are very welcomed and will be greeted with a complimentary beard, just as in the last chapter.

Again, all characters and the wizarding world belong to J.K. Rowling, but I insist that Ron's beard is never mentioned in her books, so I've established contact with the Author Rights Office.

Hermione was awakened by an obnoxious stream of light one cold Saturday morning. Although, as she stirred and adjusted her eyes to her new vigile condition, the same object of her disdain became a blessing when Hermione caught sight of her sleeping companion looking almost ethereal under the dim light created by her former enemy.

A wide smile instantly spread across Hermione's face and, determined not to waste such a view, she propped up in her elbow and began to drink in the appearance of one Ronald Weasley. He remained peacefully asleep spread on his back, one arm resting on his stomach over the duvet and the other one flexed upon the pillow. There was also one rebellious knee just slightly bent peeking out from the edge of the bed, teasing her with a hint of a freckled thigh.

Hermione averted her eyes from temptation and focused on what they've come to call the "freaking freckle". The ludicrous name belonged to an oversized and slightly darker mark that appeared one summer just below Ron's jaw. He hated it, but Hemione loved dropping slobbery kisses over it when she was snuggling into him. She had made her life mission to kiss each and every one of those darker and larger marks he so hated. To her, it was as if he had multiple solar systems in an extended universe of freckles, and she was an astronaut exploring and discovering new galaxies on the confines of his skin.

Hermione lowered her view, following the line of his throat. She licked her lips at the mesmerizing movement of his Adam's apple as he suddenly gulped. She wondered what was it that made his neck so delicious. Was it the shape? She mused, as she followed the lines of his tendons and muscles, stretching and relaxing when he swallowed once more. Or could it be sense? The salty taste of his skin combined with his intoxicating essence. Maybe it was because of the fascinating patterns surrounding the freaking freckle. Or perhaps it was all. His neck was so alluring just because it was his, part of him.

She continued gazing down until she found his collarbone and had to suppress a chuckle as she caught the mess he had made of his T-shirt. It was almost impossibly tangled, rolled between his armpit and the duvet, showing half his shoulder. Hermione's heart clenched at the sight of his splinching scar, being a reminder of one of many times their future together had almost been stolen by death. She decided to avoid the mourning memory and directed her eyes to his other side, immediately feeling better as she took in his rolled-up sleeve.

Now, this right there was another of the mysteries of Ronald Weasley. How was it that something as simple as an arm could turn her on like that? Hermione felt the warmth spread across her body as she drank on his bicep. It was relaxed but somehow yet contracted, highlighting the lines of his muscles. She bit her lip and decided to move up but a light moan escaped her as he jolted in his sleep, ripping his exquisite forearm. She had to keep going or she wouldn't be able to hold back.

Hermione moved on in this Ron Weasley tour. Next stop: hands. There it was, a large calloused but delicate hand with those bony magical fingers. Was she barmy to find his hands so endearing? She pondered. Well, she was certainly and undeniably barmy about him. His fingers were barely touching his temple and Hermione felt herself smiling as she eyed his fringe. After all these years, that rebellious fringe kept falling free on his forehead, continuingly teasing her to reach and caress it away.

Ron's eyes were closed, but Hermione could clearly picture the sapphire blue of his gaze. It was as if two gemstones were adorning his face. She loved those eyes so much. Those expressive, deep, passionate eyes of him that could pierce through all her barriers and unveil her soul. Those beautiful eyes that their daughter had inherited. It would never cease to amaze Hermione how they'd managed to create two human beings with such an exquisite mix of both of them, that would serve as living proof to the world that they were destined to be together. They had always been.

Hermione deflected from Ron's eyes and studied the grey hairs that now adorned his sideburn, proof of the life they'd shared. She giggled internally as she inspected his beard. Ron's beard. A being by itself. She tried to put a number to how many times she found herself drooling at his beard. That strong, sexy coppery-auburn piece of facial hair that hypnotised her. The grey was rapidly spreading from the edges to the centre, already taking his entire sideburn and half his jawline, sparkling across his face as evidence of the years moving forward almost too fast.

Hermione was now too tempted to take those slightly open lips of his in hers, but she didn't want to disturb his sleep. He seemed so peaceful. Then she remembered that Ron had told her once that if she ever felt the need, she shouldn't doubt and always, always, wake him up. And after all the gazing and inspecting she was more than needing him. So, without a second thought, Hermione leaned forward and brushed her lips against his.

She was about to pull away when he took her lower lips with his teeth, a clear sign that he was coming out from his sleep. Hermione released a satisfied moan for all the hold ones from earlier and he groaned into her mouth, taking her in for a deep kiss. Oh, how she loved his groggy, slobbery morning kisses. Ron moved the arm he had stuck between them to hold her tight, half on her butt and half on her side, as his other hand was now tangling in her hair. He was mumbling into her mouth amidst kisses something along the lines of "love you so much" and "best way to wake up". Things were heating up fast when they were startled out of their love bubble by Hugo's voice, coming from somewhere in their room.

'Your grandson is coming. Get out of bed you thirsty middle age people! See you at St. Mungo's.' By the time they found the source of the voice, Hugo's Patronus was starting to fade.

Ron was propped up in his elbows and Hermione had half her body over him, hanging by his neck. They were both blinking and staring at the empty spot where the Patronus had evaporated. Ron turned his head to look at his wife with his signature lopsided grin and said, 'He is coming, love.' His voice sounded strained out of the effort to contain a shriek of joy. Then he suddenly hopped out of bed, dropping Hermione unceremoniously to the side. He was bouncing around the room whilst he fetched his clothes and began to dress. Hermione shook her head amused at his overexcited husband feeling her heart grow an inch as she took in how adorable he was.

When they arrived at Hospital, Rose was already there, dressed in her Healer robes. They greeted and hugged, excited at the news, as Rose proceeded to tell them how Hugo had come with his wife an hour ago and she had had to ask for a colleague to make her rounds to be free to meet her incoming nephew. Time started ticking and a few hours later the waiting room was like a ginger's convention. Full of hordes and hordes of Weasleys, and the Potters.

After a few more hours, the maternity's doors flew open and a euphoric Hugo came out. He stood at the threshold for a second, scanning the room. When he found his father, he sprinted towards him. Ron sprinted too, meeting him halfway in a winding embrace. Hugo was screaming at lung force 'I'm a dad, dad, I'm a dad! A dad!' As Ron patted his back and nodded enthusiastically, too overwhelmed to articulate any words. After the initial shock, the entire room roared in joy as the Hospital's personnel tried vainly to ask for silence.

When the chaos ceased, Hugo had to come back inside to attend to his wife. Hermione, Rose and Ron were the first in line to meet the newcomer and about half an hour after Hugo's announcement they were called by a Healer. Hermione shared amused glares with Rose as they looked at Ron bouncing Luna Loovegod style all the way to the baby's room. Upon entrance, the lot was received by a beaming Hugo holding a little baby with some patches of brown hair in his hair. His wife was smiling fondly at Hugo and Hermione felt her heart clench in emotion as she recognized the look in her face as the same she had held when Ron presented Rose to Arthur.

'Hey, lot. This is Matthew Ronald Granger-Weasley.'

Hermione gasped and turned to see as a wide grin invaded Ron's entire face. He dropped an amused 'Wicked!' and took a few steps towards his son and grandson. Hermione felt tears running down her cheeks as she saw Ron taking baby Matt from Hugo's arms. Ron lifted his face to look at her, positively beaming with the precious treasure in his arms. Hermione was overcome with love at the memory of that same smile with a red-headed baby in his arms flew to her mind. But her heart grew another inch that day as she noted the grey hair in Ron's beard and she realised her Ron was now a grandad.