a/n: This is a Romione, NOT a Dramione.

Huge thanks and hugs to my amazing friend and beta callieskye. And thanks to all of you for those reviews.

Chapter 13: One Way Road to Hell

Hermione knew she was purposely stretching the evening, trying to steal moments from life itself. She ought to have left an hour ago if not more. One more dance, one more drink, just another few minutes of a carefree chat...the list of excuses went on. But the truth was, in between swinging on Charlie's arms, playing with Torie and Teddy or grabbing that passing goblet of wine, her eyes sought out the person sitting at the far edge of the tent. She should've known that the closer he got, the less control she'd have over herself. And yet, she'd agreed- to have that dance, initiated it almost. And now her heart wanted more- more of the hurt that would come later that night, more of his memories… more of him. It was extremely unhealthy and illogical but it had always been hard to follow her brain when Ron was involved..

Furious with her lack of self-control, first after Harry and Ginny's vows and later when she agreed to the dance, it was almost self-defence when she had lashed out those hurtful words at him. It was vindicating when his breath hitched as she reminded him that these were their last moments together. However, the realisation that she was still so familiar with everything 'Ron', even the sound of his exhale or drawing in a sharp breath, was disturbing.

She had not looked into his eyes for as long as she could manage. The slightest of touches, his familiar fragrance while being encased in his arms brought back memories and desires she thought she had long since repressed. It was shocking how much longing still existed between them, despite their years of separation and all the hurt those years held. Her need for him was almost overpowering. Kissing Draco never made her feel this way, never sparked these intense feelings... She hated Ron a little more for it and hated herself for her weakness; her mask had slipped again.

Her belongings were packed away neatly in her bag that was waiting for her at the foot of her bed. All she had to do was wish everyone 'night, make false promises that she'd visit soon, grab her things and leave. Just like that, she'd be free from the shackles of her past, but would she?

As she sat sipping on her fifth glass of wine, absentmindedly massaging her feet that were aching thanks to her heels, she pondered where her life would lead her after tonight. Work would keep her busy, but there was always a chance of bumping into Ron at the Ministry. Was she ready to see him again? More importantly, was she ready to NOT see him ever again?

Her heart lurched painfully at the thought and before she could hold back, she turned to catch a glimpse of him again. And precisely at that moment, he had left his chair hurrying- towards the table where her mum now lay slumped over….

….

The past few hours had flown by; Hermione couldn't remember all of it clearly.

As their car sped through the country roads towards London, she wiped off the moisture trickling down her cheeks, careful to hide it from the man next to her.

The sight of her mum passed out at the table had shaken her to the core. Her first thought had been poisoning, but that was just absurd and was ruled out by a quick few spells by Kingsley. It was Ron who had suggested they visit the closest Muggle hospital at Ottery St Mary first. He was also the one to accompany them and handle all of the hospital formalities along with her father while she stood next to her unconscious mum's bed, watching with rising panic as nurses and doctors poked and prodded at her with multiple medical appendages.

Now she and Ron were in the car again, racing against time to reach the London hospital.

She glanced briefly at the man at the wheel before looking at the ambulance ahead of them, carrying her ailing mother and distraught father. Fear like never before seeped in her heart.

"Liver deterioration happens over the years and is very difficult to detect early," the doctor at Ottery St Mary had informed them. She wondered how long her mother had been going through it alone, hiding her pain and symptoms perhaps? Or maybe Hermione had just been too busy to notice? Too caught up in her own problems?

She bit back another sob and turned to look resolutely out of the window. The cold air stung her eyes but she ignored it.

She couldn't stop blaming herself. She had barely seen her parents in the past few months. The clinic was busy as usual and that combined with the renovation work at her parent's home kept them busier than ever before. Hermione herself had been busy at work and more recently, with matters of the heart. But that, she admonished herself, was no reason to not see her parents more frequently.

"Only further tests can pinpoint the cause and the degree of damage. Post that diagnosis, the exact treatment can be decided. In the worst scenario, we might have arrange for a transplant. But that, as I said, is the worst case. Let's hope it's not that bad," the doctor had added kindly, but something in her heart told Hermione that fate was not done playing games with her life.

…..

He was still waiting for her, he always would whether she realised it or not. He would always belong to her more than he belonged to himself, and that, Ron knew, would never change.

The breeze wafting through the open windows of the car played with her curls at her temple, the setting sun lit up her features, glinting where the moisture from her eyes stopped on her cheeks. It was a strange twist of fate that had given him these moments with her. However, he'd rather have the pain of separation than have her go through the distress she was in currently.

As the rays of the setting sun gave way to dusk, he turned on the headlights and sped up, following the siren-wailing ambulance as it sped down the highway. She had barely spoken a word since they'd left the small hospital at Ottery St Mary. It was clear that neither she nor her father, Dr Granger, had been aware of her mother's health condition. With the small town hospital lacking the facilities to provide anything more than basic treatment, they'd made arrangements to transfer her to London.

"She'll be okay," he said, breaking the hours-long silence.

Even after having spent more than six years pretending to be a Muggle, Ron had never appreciated the magical means of transport more than he did in the current situation. They had been driving for hours, and he was anxious himself. Crucial time was running out.

Hermione hadn't spoken a word to him since they'd left the Burrow. When her father had insisted on accompanying his wife in the ambulance, she'd quietly mentioned that she'd follow them in her parents' car. But Ron knew she was in no state to drive. After finishing the hospital formalities and seeing the ambulance off, he had followed her to the parking lot. As Hermione had approached the driver's-side door Ron stopped her by holding back the door.

"I am not sure you are okay to drive. May I…?"

The look she gave him clearly indicated that she had not expected him to accompany her to London. But at least she hadn't questioned it further. Handing him the keys, she'd quietly moved to the passenger side instead.

Back in the present, she had been gazing out of the window forever. Wondering if she had dozed off, he called her softly. "Can I ask you something?"

At first, he thought Hermione hadn't heard him but then she turned a smidge. "Yes," she replied in a small, tired voice.

"What's a transplant?" he asked tentatively not sure if she'd reply at all. From his peripheral vision, however, he sensed her turn a bit more towards him and chanced a glance.

"It's a muggle medical technique where they replace a diseased or non-functioning organ of a patient with that of a donor's," she explained in a tone so familiar that nostalgia hit him hard. "There are many who donate their body parts, and when they die, their usable organs are harvested and provided to patients who need them."

She paused briefly and Ron chanced another glimpse and noticed her wipe a tear away as she bit her lip. "But it's not very easy because a lot of tests have to be done on the donor and the recipient to ensure they're a match. Otherwise, the recipient's body would reject the new organ and it would all be for nothing. But.. not everyone donates their organs so many patients are on a waiting list to receive organs… It's not an easy process," she explained in a weak voice before pausing. "However, if I am not wrong, there are some live donors as well."

"Live donors?!" Ron exclaimed automatically, looking between the road and her, terrified. Despite all the benefits, it was gruesome to imagine muggles pulling out the heart of a living person to place it into another's body.

Apparently, Hermione understood the reason for his surprise and immediately shook her head, "Oh no, not that way," she replied with the faintest hint of a smile, "Not all organs, only the ones that won't endanger the donor's life, like, you know, bone marrow or a part of the liver, and I think a kidney as well."

"So... any one of us could donate a part of our liver to Jane?" he asked hopefully, and she let out an impatient sound like their old days when he had asked something silly. But her voice was soft when she replied. Perhaps she understood the emotion behind his statement.

"No," she exhaled, "It's not that easy, as I said, they have to match details. Blood types at the very least and I am not sure what else."

He nodded his head in understanding as he manoeuvred around another car.

"May I ask you something?" she asked after a while.

"Alright," he said, not taking his eyes off the road.

"Why- why did you come along with m-, I mean, us?"

He took his time concentrating on sliding towards a slower lane before he replied, feeling her eyes on him all the time.

"Because we have been friends for as long as I can remember." Hermione let out a derisive chuckle which he tried hard to ignore before he continued. "I swear I'd have done the same, no matter… no matter what happened between us in the past."

He could still feel her eyes on his face and he knew that brilliant brain of hers was working twice as hard to work out his true motives. It was hard to say if she'd believe him but he continued anyway.

"I know we aren't… aren't friends anymore," he added, eyes glued on the road ahead and felt her turn away. "but... there was a time when we were…I don't have an ulterior motive. I don't expect you to-" he sighed, forcing himself to finish the sentence, "-forgive me or anything. Not doing this to get into your good books, I swear."

"A little hard to believe, don't you think?" she replied bitterly, as far as he could tell, still looking away.

"Let me be here for yo- your family now... for my sake if not yours," he added anyway, eyes firmly on the road when he felt her eyes on him. "When all this is over, and your mum is back home safe, we'll go back to being the strangers that you want us to be. I promise."

….

She caught him clench his jaw at his last comment then turned away sharply to look outside. Darkness was claiming the surroundings. She somehow knew there was something worse coming her way; she could feel it in her bones. No matter how hard she tried, Hermione couldn't deny that she was glad of Ron's presence, glad of the strength that was emanating from him.

They weren't friends anymore. He was right. But they weren't strangers either- if they were, her heart wouldn't hurt so much every time he was near. If they could become strangers so easily, she could have treated him like a face in the crowd, not remembered every freckle on his nose, or the way his eyes changed colour with his feelings. She wouldn't remember how he picked her up in his arms playfully, or the way he pulled her into him to assuage her fears. She would neither remember nor crave the sound of his heartbeat as she blended in him. She bit her lip hard to draw blood; anything to be rid of her memories, her pain...

"How much longer?" she asked after many long minutes.

The countryside had blended into the darkness at some point, more lights from the buildings blinking back at them like little stars as they entered the city limits.

"Almost there," he told her as their car made a sharp left.

…...

He dropped her off at the emergency entrance right behind the ambulance before proceeding to find a parking spot. By the time he found her again, Jane had a been admitted to the intensive care unit and tests were already being carried out. Thomas Granger was with the medical team providing her medical history.

He found her sitting alone in the waiting area. With his heart twisting painfully in his chest he grabbed a glass of water and slowly approached her before handing her the glass wordlessly and taking the seat next to her. She accepted it and took a few small sips before wrapping her fingers around the glass, looking straight at the huge doors that hid her parents from view.

A while later, a nurse came to inform them that Jane had regained consciousness. They still couldn't visit her as she was undergoing tests, but Ron relaxed a bit as Hermione looked at him with the barest hint of a smile. It already felt like a very long day. Thomas joined the couple soon, looking marginally better than he had since Jane's sudden collapse, and explained that Jane was in stable condition and good hands. There wasn't much they could do than wait. So they moved to the hospital cafeteria and Ron ordered tea for everyone.

It was Thomas who started speaking. "I am so sorry for all the trouble, Ron. We spoiled the joy of your sister's wedding."

Ron rubbed the back of his neck, uncomfortable. "Please Sir," he replied, "this could've happened to anyone," he added.

The old man nodded and patted his hand. Somehow Dr Granger looked years older than he did just hours earlier. "I am so glad you came along," he added. "Hermione's made some good friends; it makes her mother and me worry a little less about her being in a different world from ours."

Ron looked resolutely at the cup in front of him. If only the old man knew how much Ron had hurt his daughter, he wouldn't be so thankful.

"Are they going to keep her here long?" asked Hermione.

"Yes, sweetheart, so it seems," replied her father sadly. "They have yet to find what caused her liver to fail."

There was no more conversation as the trio finished their drinks and returned to the waiting area. A little while later, they were informed that Jean had been moved to the ward and could have visitors. As the father-daughter duo went in to see her, Ron excused himself and instead stood to wait outside the room to give them some privacy. But he was soon called by none other than Jane herself.

He entered the room to find Hermione sitting on her mother's bed holding Jane's hand tightly with tears trickling down her cheeks. Her father sat in a chair close to the bed and gestured Ron to occupy the other.

"I am sorry, Ron." said the elderly lady, and Ron's guilt mounted. He ought to be the one apologising to them, not the other way round.

"Please don't, Mrs Granger," he beseeched, sitting uncomfortably in the chair. "I hope you're feeling better now?"

"Slightly, yes. And it's Jane, dear," she replied with a smile, which Ron noticed was strikingly similar to her daughter's. They discussed the wedding a little, which Ron realized, was her way of distracting her daughter.

"I can't wait to see you in a white gown," Jane said as she caressed Hermione's messed curls, "- walking down the aisle, love." Can't wait to see your dad give you away. I was telling Molly the same. It's the saddest and yet the happiest day for a mother to see her daughter wed, y'know?"

With his heart threatening to rip apart, Ron noticed the steady stream of tears leaking from Hermione's eyes. A sudden knock on the door made them all turn around, Hermione hastily wiping at her eyes.

"Could I speak to you in private please?" asked the elderly doctor, directing his question to the senior Grangers.

"These are my children here, I want them to stay," replied Jane, causing Ron to look up at the woman who returned a kind smile that reminded him so much of his own mum. If anything, it made him feel all the more guilty. Ron rose from his chair, offering it to the elderly gentleman who was looking uncomfortable. The doctor offered a small thanks, grabbed the chair and sat himself down, looking at all the anxious faces in front of him.

"As you please, Ma'am," he said, with the air of a person who held bad news. Hermione glanced at him and he nodded once to placate her silently. There wasn't much he could do.

"Dr Granger," the man addressed Jane, "We have the results of some of the tests we ran. It seems you have a genetic condition called Hemochromatosis." The man looked at all of them again. Ron had no freaking clue what he was talking about but he noticed the Granger seniors shared a worried glance.

"As I'm sure you know, it's an iron metabolism disorder," the doctor said before looking at Ron and Hermione, "To explain in simple terms, it means that her body has been accumulating excess iron over the years, causing damage to her liver." He turned at Jane again before he proceeded.
"Normally this occurs less in females because their body loses iron during their monthly cycles. However, in your case, considering your accident and subsequent medical history, your body has unfortunately lost that option," he finished gravely.

"What now?" asked Jane herself. Hermione's father, Ron noticed was looking pale.

"We run some more tests to see how severe the damage is," the doctor replied, adjusting his glasses. Post that, we will be able to decide if we can treat you through medication or will you have to go in for transplant. But then, we found your blood group is AB negative, so-" he paused, looking at all of them, "- let's hope that damage is less. It's a rare group and the recipient list is already long... Do you have any siblings?"

Even with his minimal knowledge about muggle health care, Ron knew the situations were grave. The doctor was just being kind enough to keep them hopeful.

"No, doctor. I was an only child."

"Parents?"

"No longer alive."

"Any of your children with the same blood group?" asked the man looking between Ron and Hermione.

"No, she's RH positive."

The doctor glanced at Ron once but did not probe, merely adjusted his glasses again and nodded. "We'll do our best," he said finally and took his leave.

….

Each answer her mother gave was like a nail in her coffin, and Hermione felt the sands of hope slowly slipping from between her fingers. What was this accident that the doctor had mentioned? Hermione couldn't remember any, but if it stopped her mother's menstrual cycle, it would've happened after her birth. Caught up in thoughts, she missed what the doctor said as he left. But as soon as the door closed, she looked up at her parents and asked the first thing that came to her mind.

"What accident was he talking about?"

A silent look passed between them as she watched with mounting terror, and finally, it was her mother who spoke.

"I always wanted at least four children, y'know that? Both, your Dad and I, are only children, and we knew how lonely that was." She squeezed Hermione's hand a little and took a few deep breaths. "But I'm RH negative, and back in those days, medical science was not as developed as it is today. I had a difficult pregnancy but then you arrived, healthy and beautiful. We were so happy!" she smiled, and patted Hermione on the cheek fondly before she continued. "And then, a little after you turned three, I became pregnant for the second time."

Hermione gasped and looked between her parents. How had they never told her before?

"We didn't want you to be lonely like us," her mother sighed, "so despite the risk, we thought we could have at least one more baby. It wouldn't be easy but we were hopeful," she paused, and her father continued.

"When your mother was four months pregnant, one day she was driving to the supermarket. You were in the rear seat, all buckled up and safe when-when a bike suddenly came in front of the car. In her attempt to avoid a collision, your mother lost control, and-and the car hit a tree." Hermione gasped and looked between her parents. Her father picked himself up from the chair he was occupying to sit at the edge of the bed and wrapped an arm around her mother.

"We … we lost the baby," he added in a thick voice, "-and she lost all hope to conceive again as her uterus was severely damaged. It had to be removed too." Her father clasped her hand and she cried. "Thankfully you were in the back buckled up and unhurt, love," he smiled, but she could barely keep her tears in check. Her parents lost one child and the one they had, had forced them into hiding, didn't see them for years and even now, was too busy to care for them.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she cried.

"What could we tell you, dear?" said her mother slowly, tears pooling in her own eyes but wiping away Hermione's.

"You were safe, that was all that mattered to us."

….

Ron felt extremely uncomfortable witnessing what he knew was a very private matter. He had no clue how he could help any of them. For fuck sake, he had only helped make Hermione's life worse by being around. He could see how weak and exhausted Jane looked as she tried to console Hermione. Figuring that the elderly lady needed some rest he quietly asked permission from Thomas to take Hermione outside. He was wondering how to convince her when she got up and walked out with him.

"Tea?" he asked once they had resumed their place in the waiting area. She shook her head in negative and arched her back, resting against the wall behind and closed her eyes.

He sat there quietly, watching her wipe of a tear now and then until her breathing slowed and she seemed to doze off. Ron knew it couldn't be a comfortable position and ached to help her rest her head on his shoulder. But that, he knew, would be breaching the high walls between them. So he sat hunched on his chair, which was unfortunately not meant for men his height. His neck ached, and leg space was woefully limited but wouldn't dare move lest she slump to the side and hurt herself.

Minutes ticked by and he was beginning to feel drowsy himself when someone called.

"Where can I find Dr Thomas Granger?" he looked up to find a nurse standing in front. "I need him to sign a few papers," she informed. "Could you please ask him to come down to the admission area?"

"Yeah, sure," he responded, and she left.

Rubbing the ache off his stiff neck muscle he turned to the woman next to him. "Erm… Her-...Could you just go and call your Dad?" he asked softly. Hermione however, was now leaning against the wall on the other side, fast asleep. So he let her be and strode up to the room the Grangers occupied. Knocking the door gently to announce his presence, he entered, catching the last bits of their conversation.

"- she magicked herself out of her seat belt and you lost control trying to coax her back in?!" finished the old man, before he noticed his wife staring horrified and turned slowly to find Ron standing dumbstruck at the door.

"I- I am-" he muttered, looking at the couple. "I'm sorry, I- knocked, they were looking for you, and I just came in to pass on the message!" he added hurriedly looking between the two, pleading them silently to refute what he thought he had heard.

It couldn't be true. But they were looking at him with so much trust and pain…

"It was accidental magic, sir!" he begged for them to understand. "She-she wouldn't be able to control it at that age!" he pleaded for reasons unknown to him. "Please, she can never know… she'd blame herself forever…. It wasn't her fault..."

"Come here," called Jane kindly, and he stood next to her bed, head hanging low in shame. "We know it's not her or her magic's fault, Ron. We have never blamed her for it. She was safe. That was all that mattered to us."

"Th-Thank you," he replied.

"I'll go and see what they need," sighed Thomas tiredly, as he left the bed and stood, patting his wife's arm tenderly before giving Ron a tired smile.

Ron gestured another mute apology at Jane and turned around to follow Thomas when she called him again, causing both men to pause.

"Take care of her, Ron. Take care of Hermione, for us?" said Jane softly as she met Ron's eyes.

"I promise to do all I can," he replied and left the room.

…..