Life Goes On

"Hello? Hello?" someone called from the fireplace. "Anyone home?"

"Coming!" Hermione responded. Of all the technology in the Muggle world that wasn't in the wizard world, she hated how they didn't use telephones the most. She crossed the apartment slowly, careful not to step on any of Haley's toys. Finally she got to the fireplace and saw Sirius Black's head floating among the flames.

"Oh, hello, Sirius. I haven't heard from you in a while."

"Well, I've been working really hard lately, but I just got laid off."

"Laid off, why?"

"Dumbledore doesn't need spies anymore; Lord Fytaero's gone for good." He paused briefly. "How's Ron holding up?"

"Still in the hospital. He's been out of it since that day."

"Wow…. Five weeks is a long time. And how are you, Hermione?"

"I'm getting along. I just got hired at a new job."

"Oh yeah? At the Ministry again?"

"No, at Hogwarts. I'm going to teach Arithmancy."

"What a coincidence! I'm going to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"I guess we'll be coworkers then."

"So…how's Haley handling this?"

"Better than I am - she's too young to understand. The doctors are saying they don't know if Ron's going to survive or not." She took a deep, shaky breath.

"Hermione…. I'm so sorry. I know this is partially my fault."

"Your fault? How could it be your fault?"

"I should have been a better guardian to Harry. And besides, if it weren't for me, his parents would still be alive."

"Are you still blaming yourself for that? Sirius, Harry would have still turned out this way even if he had a perfect childhood. And you were a wonderful guardian, but Harry was already too far absorbed into the Dark Arts by then for you to have made any difference."

"I guess you're right, but I still keep blaming myself."

"Well don't. I'm not blaming myself for Ron's injuries because I showed him the article about Harry's kidnapping. It's not going to make any difference and he would have found out anyway."

"Ha! You sound like you're starting to believe in destiny and the Inner Eye, Hermione."

"Not quite! Anyway, I'm sorry to cut our conversation short, but I have to go back to the hospital."

"Maybe I'll come visit, too. Which hospital?

"The Wizard Infirmary in London."

"I'll try to get there. I've really got to start packing."

"Packing, why? Where are you going?"

"Didn't they tell you? We have to be moved in at Hogwarts by two weeks from Wednesday."

* * *

As if Hermione didn't have enough stress in her life, here was yet another thing to worry about. The new term didn't start until January second; why did she have to move in now? There was already a new job, Ron, the new baby, and Haley to worry about, not to mention Christmas. Now, with the move on top, she was in over her head. Without Ron, she was drowning.

So she and Haley got on the London Underground and went into the city. The hospital was for wizards only, so naturally, it was hidden in a dark alley. Muggles who walked by would see only some stray cats sitting on top of a dumpster, but wizards saw the entrance to the huge white building.

Hermione had some faith in the hospital. It was said to be the best wizard hospital in all of Europe, and sometimes, special cases were even sent there from hundreds of miles away. Their potion masters had come up with many common mixtures that she had in her medicine cabinet. But still, she had to be worried.

When Hermione had found Ron in the front hallway that fateful afternoon, she hadn't really considered that Ron would be this bad this long. He still hadn't woken up, and everyday she saw him, the gash in his arm got worse. It was starting to turn shades of green, yellow, and purple, and there was talk of amputation. But it was the wound on Ron's stomach that was the worst, and that couldn't be amputated. It wasn't deep enough to damage any of his organs, but he had lost quite a lot of blood. Hermione even wondered how he had made it home in the first place; the doctors talked about how damaging Apparating could be when a person was badly injured.

"Come on, Haley," Hermione called, as they walked up a flight of stairs to Ron's room. Hermione knew it well; she had been coming here every day for five weeks. Still, the doctors argued whether Ron would live or die. But Hermione had to hope he would live. She just wanted everything to be back the way it was before Harry had been kidnapped. She wondered if Harry - wherever he was - was in such a bad state as Ron. Ron hadn't been awake enough to tell anyone about Lord Fytaero or Harry Potter, so the Ministry still had people on the case, trying to find out where Ron had battled. They didn't know that he had burned the file.

All they could find searching Ron's office were random files with no helpful information and a note he had written to Hermione. Ron had once told her he wrote a note every time he went on a mission where there was a chance he could be killed, but Hermione was still shocked when they gave it to her. It read:

Dear Hermione,

You know I always write one of these letters before I leave my office, but this time, it's for real. I'm going to try to find Harry, and therefore, I'll most likely run into Lord Fytaero himself. I'm sure he'll put up a great fight.

If I don't return alive, know that I love you: always have and always will. And Haley, too. And good luck for our new baby, in case I never get to meet him (or her). I can't tell you where I am going - I want no one to follow me if I am caught or killed. I'm sorry this letter is short, but time is wasting; I must find Fytaero before it is too late.

Love always,

Ron

Hermione had read the letter so many times, but she had to fight tears back even the last time. What if Ron didn't come out of this alive? What would she do then?

But Hermione had always been clever, and after Ron's first week in the hospital, she started to make contingency plans. She would need money, so she applied for a job at Hogwarts. She no longer wanted to work at the Ministry, and it took much too long to get a job there because of all the tests and background checks she would have to go through. She knew Hogwarts like her own house; she had spent six and a half wild years there.

But the thought that worried her most was the new baby. She'd always had a picture of what would happen when she went into labor. She would be at home, Ron would have the day off, and he'd drive her to the hospital. Then he'd be there to hold her hand - just like when Haley was born. But it looked like it wasn't going to turn out that way. Though she still had another month to go, Ron wouldn't likely be in that position by then. What would she do if she went into labor when no one was home? She supposed she could go to a neighbor's, but that wouldn't be the same, and she didn't know any of them that well.

Then she had gotten a letter from Hogwarts saying they had a position open and they knew her well enough that she would not even have to interview. She took the job. What other choice did she have?

She knocked on the door of Ron's room, not expecting an answer and not getting one. Ron was lying on the bed, as usual. He looked somewhat peaceful, except that he left arm was really infected now. The doctors had tried to clean it, and for a while, it looked as though it would heal, but now that was no longer likely.

Haley crawled up onto a chair by the window. She had brought a coloring book with her. Hermione realized it was probably disturbing to bring her to the hospital every day, but her sisters-in-law were too far away to watch her every day, and Hermione really didn't want to put her in daycare.

Hermione sat down in the chair next to Ron's bed. It was almost pointless for her to be there. Ron couldn't hear anything she said to him. If only Ron was awake and alert, she could at least talk to him. But that wasn't possible.

There was a knock on the door, and Sirius popped his head in.

"Hello," he called quietly.

Haley smiled at him. "Hi! Want to see my picture? It's a coloring book of dragons from Uncle Charlie," she said, showing him the Chinese Fireball she had just colored bright orange.

"Very nice, Haley," Sirius said. "Let me talk to your mommy for a little while, okay?"

Haley nodded and went back to her box of crayons.

"What a little artist you've got there," he said, pulling up a chair next to Hermione. "Are you all right? Nevermind, you're not, but is there anything I can do?"

Hermione shook her head. There was nothing he could do, nothing she could do, nothing anyone could do.

"I'll be right back," he said. "Let me just grab a bite. I didn't eat lunch."

Hermione watched him leave the room and close the door behind him, wondering how he could think of eating now.

Her attention was drawn back to the bed with a rustle of covers. Ron had been stirring in his sleep more lately. The doctors said it was a sign of discomfort, but she tried to trick herself into thinking it was because he was waking up.

Haley started to hum a silly little song she had learned from TV. She wouldn't be able to watch anymore, now that they were moving to Hogwarts. Although their apartment building was inhabited only by wizards, it was still able to get TV and radio signals. Those kinds of things went haywire at Hogwarts.

Somehow, maybe because she was tired and depressed, she started to cry. Her baby was never going to know its father, and Haley was too young - she would forget him, too.

Suddenly she heard a faint voice. "Hey, what are your crying for?"

First she thought it was Sirius, but when she turned around, the door was still closed. Then she thought she was imagining it, which sounded likely because she felt crazed. But then she felt something touch her hand lying on the bed, and realized.

It was Ron.

She smiled at him through her tears. "Hey, I think I've seen this someplace before," he said, "but you were down here, and I was up there."

"Oh, Ron!" was all she could say, and it was barely a whisper.

"That sure was relaxing. How long have I been out of it? A few days?"

"Five weeks," Hermione said.

"Five weeks?!" Ron said incredulously. "Bloody hell!"

This could only make Hermione laugh, and soon she was laughing so hard, she couldn't tell if her tears were tears of joy or laughter.

Ron started to laugh, too, but realized it hurt too much. "God, I missed you."

"You don't know how much. Don't ever do this again…."

"I'll try not to…." She leaned down to kiss him as Sirius came back in.

"Whoa! What did I miss?"

Suddenly Haley looked over, too. "Mommy and Daddy sitting in a tree. K-I-"

"That's enough, Haley."

Ron smiled at Haley and Sirius, but it was a weak smile. "Be here when I wake up again," Ron said to Hermione, settling back into sleep.

And when Hermione went home that night and went to bed, she had the biggest smile on her face.

* * *

Ron continued to get better, sometimes waking up for a few minutes at a time. Hermione made sure she was there every day, and he made sure she woke him up at least once to talk. He understood how hard this must have been on her. It was hard for him when she had been on the verge of death, too. But everything was going to get better now.

One week later, Ron was very alert when Hermione went to visit him. She didn't bring Haley; she tired Ron out way too much. She had left her with Sirius, who was willing to pick her up from the apartment or even the hospital. And he had helped Hermione start to pack.

"Hello," he said when she walked in. She usually had to wake him when she came in.

"How long have you been up?"

"About fifteen minutes."

"That means we don't have much time."

"I don't know about that. I feel pretty awake today."

"That's good because I have a lot to tell you."

Ron looked around the tiny hospital room. "Where's Haley?"

"With Sirius. Ron, I'm sorry to tell you this like this, but we're moving."

"Moving? Why? Did we get kicked out?"

"No, no. I got a new job at Hogwarts and we have to be moved in by next Wednesday."

"Wow…." Hermione paused to let Ron take in the news. "But Hermione," he continued, "you can't move all by yourself."

"Sirius is helping, and the twins."

"Oh, good. And you've been to the doctor lately? And the baby?"

"Fine," she said shortly.

"I can't believe I've missed so much…."

"Ron, I need to know what happened. The Ministry is still searching for Lord Fytaero and Harry."

"Fytaero is dead. I killed him," Ron said, suddenly not meeting her eyes.

"But what about Harry?"

"I just told you."

"You said Fytaero. Did Fytaero kill Harry?"

"He can't, Hermione. They're one and the same."

Hermione gaped at him. "Harry was Lord Fytaero?!"

"I know, I couldn't believe it either, but there it is."

"So Harry is…?"

"I had to do it. He would have killed me, Hermione. Without a second thought."

"And Ron, there's something else. Did the doctors talk to you…?"

"About not using magic? Yeah, they did. I can't do any spells even with my wand for a few months."

"No," Hermione said. "About your arm?"

"What about it?"

"It's very infected, and-"

"They're going to cut off my arm, Hermione?" They were both silent, while she looked away.

"My God," he said.

"If they don't take your arm, it's going to take your life."

"If they have to, so be it," he sighed.

"I'll let you get back to sleep."

* * *

When Hermione came in the next morning, Ron was lying in the bed as usual, but now his arm was missing.

He turned to face her. "Come around this side; I'd rather not look that way."

"Last night I was reading about magic prosthetic limbs. I think I can make you a new arm out of magic."

"Really?" Ron asked.

"Yes, but I don't know how well it will work."

"Wormtail had a magical hand, remember?" Ron said. "He cut his old one off to resurrect Voldemort."

"Here goes nothing," Hermione said, muttering some spell Ron had never heard before. A silvery green wisp flew out of the wand and attached itself to Ron's stub, forming itself into a human arm.

"Wow," said Ron, awed. "It's perfect! And the best thing is, it doesn't hurt at all."

"How's today been otherwise?"

"I've been up for two hours already, and I'm kinda tired. George came for about thirty minutes this morning. And then Ginny and my mom."

"That's good; you've had company."

"I'd rather have my arm." Ron held his two arms together: one was fake and glowing and odd silvery green color, and the other was real and the color of the rest of his skin. "Lucky that," he said. "It's my left arm, so I still have my spider bites."

"That's a good thing?"

"Something to show for my adventure," he said, shrugging.

"Well, you've been up a while today, so I'll let you get back to sleep."

"Okay, but, Hermione, don't come back tomorrow."

"Why not? Don't you want to see me?"

"Oh, of course I want to see you! But Apparating is really bad for pregnant women."

"Then I'll just take the train, or the bus."

"No Hermione. I don't want you to. I'm not worth it."

"Ron, next week is Christmas."

"I know. Please, Hermione?"

"Oh, all right. I'll see you soon then."

She gave him a good bye kiss, then left.

Ron smiled. Sooner than you think.