Disclaimer: The characters in this story do not belong to me. They are the property of JK Rowling, Bloomsbury, and AOL Time Warner.

A/N: Warning - this chapter contains flashbacks. Don't let them confuse you. =] Please review!

FEBRUARY 12th

Dear Ron -

It's a girl! A beautiful baby girl! Harry and I have decided to name her Molly, for Mom, of course. Molly Alicia Potter. She's absolutely perfect... Well, naturally, she's been making it impossible for either of us to get any sleep, but that was to be expected.

We'd love for you to come and visit. Whenever you get a break from work, let us know! We'd be so happy to have you.

I'd write more, but I don't have the time to write a longer letter. It's difficult to find any peace around here anymore - even as I sit here writing, Molly lies crying in her cradle. Oh, I'd better go tend to her.

Write back soon! We miss you so much!

All my love,

Ginny

Ron smiled at the letter in his hands. He couldn't quite believe it: he was an uncle! He had to get back to England to see his niece.

But it wasn't that simple.

When he first moved to Kenya, Ron had told himself that he could never visit his sister because work was simply that pressing. And besides, he'd tell himself, travel from Africa to England wasn't exactly easy. Yes, apparition made things easier, but it was still very complicated. Apparating cross-continentally involved all sorts of customs and traveling fees.

But as the months wore on, he allowed himself to remember.

Ten years ago.

Ron sat in front of the common room fire, staring into the dying flames. He wasn't sure what time it was.

Perhaps it was nearing dawn.

Perhaps it was barely midnight.

Ron had lost all sense of time.

Harry and Hermione had been worried about him, or so they said. "Where've you been all this time?" Harry had asked, as he and Hermione returned from dinner to find Ron sitting in the common room, gazing blankly into the fire. "You've been here all along?"

"Yeah," Ron had said absently.

"Doing what?"

"Just thinking."

"About what?"

"Nothing in particular." Well, that was certainly a lie.

"You alright, then?"

"Yeah, just fine."

But of course, he wasn't "just fine". Ron had been sitting in the same chair, staring at the same fire for...well, he wasn't sure for how long.

And all because of Ginny.

Stupid Ginny.

Meddling into things she didn't understand.

And ruining his evening.

"Ron," she had said, "it's about time for you to stop acting like a five- year-old. Hermione's waiting, you know she is. And she isn't going to wait much longer."

"It's so much more complicated than that," Ron had said, rolling his eyes impatiently.

"Really? I'm not so sure."

"You have no idea."

Ginny raised her eyebrows. "Well, it seems pretty simple to me. Ron, you love her - "

"Now, wait just a minute - "

"Go ahead, then, tell me you don't." Ginny paused, but Ron said nothing. "Thought so."

And he couldn't stop thinking about that damn conversation.

-----

Dear Hermione -

How can we thank you enough? You've done so much for us these past few months. And we're so lucky that our best friend simply happens to be the most efficient midwife in the country.

We'd love to have you around for dinner sometime soon. Let us know when time permits.

All my love,

Ginny

Hermione smiled at the letter in her hands. It had been her pleasure to deliver Molly.

And she would love to join Harry and Ginny for dinner...if she could find the time. Hermione was always very busy; if she wasn't on call, she was at St. Mungo's Research Center, working on some new development or another. But maybe she could take a day off...Hermione didn't think she had taken a day off in six years. She had always found comfort in her work - it was a routine she could fall back into when all else failed.

When Ron failed.

But, no, Hermione wouldn't let herself think about that. She had gotten through those times once; she didn't have to relive them again.

Ten years ago.

Hermione lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling. She knew that midnight had come and gone several hours ago.

Hermione needed to sleep. N.E.W.T.s were approaching, and Hermione had to be in good health for the exams.

But sleep wouldn't come, because her mind was distracted. A conversation kept playing itself over and over in Hermione's head.

"Ginny," Hermione had said, "I just can't do this anymore."

"He'll come around." But there was little truth in these words. Both girls knew that.

"He won't come around." Hermione bit back her tears. She wouldn't cry. Not over this.

Ginny paused, staring hard at Hermione. "So what are you going to do about it?"

Ginny's words had confused Hermione. "What can I do?"

"Well," Ginny said slowly, "why does he have to be the one to come around?"

And, of course, Ginny was right.

As she lay there, watching the first rays of the sun illuminate the ceiling, Hermione let a single tear trickle down her cheek. If only it was that easy, she thought. But it's so complicated....

And then, a distinct voice within her asked, But is it? Is it so complicated?