A/N:

Happy MondayFriday! Two weeks in a row, yeeeehaw (yeah, in my mind it's Friday and I made it).

First of all, thanks to Cheesyficwriter and RomioneB. They are the best, even if RB leaves some nasty nasty messages that make me question her sanity.

Thanks to everyone that takes the time to read this fic and leave a review too. I'm always happy to read them.

The wizarding world, characters included, belongs to J.K. Rowling. The only thing I own is a calendar that says that today is somehow Friday.

The only thing that was worse than a Monday, was a Monday without sleep; and after the talk with Hermione the night before, I reckoned I had the most restless night in years. It had been too much to take in one day: having her close, the twins, her words... Merlin, her words.

"The only one I can truly love...he wasn't in Australia."

Those fucking words echoed in my head since they left her mouth. It had to be me, right? Then why couldn't she just say it? It was Slughorn's Christmas party all over again, only worse, because now we had so much more to lose.

But then, I couldn't put all the blame on her, could I? Of all the things, I had to go and say that I didn't want to settle down. Of course she wouldn't stay to listen! I should've known better than to start with that. I know Hermione, and I should've predicted how things would end if I said that. She had just poured her heart out – in her infuriatingly indirect way, but still – and the first thing she heard from me is…

I growled and checked my watch, finding that it was getting late. Grudgingly I stood up and put on my robe, accepting that I was in for a long day of spiraling over last night. As soon as I stepped out of my room, I caught a flash of red hair. Hugo was sitting on a stool at the kitchen table with a large book.

I grinned. 'Morning, little one. What're you doing up so early?'

'Waiting for my mum to feed me, I guess.' Hugo shrugged. When I passed behind him, he lifted his face and followed me with his gaze as I rounded the kitchen table. When I stood in front of him, he asked, 'Why are you awake?'

'Work. Where are the others?' I asked, noticing we were alone.

'I like to wake up early,' he said with a smile, 'but Rose don't, she likes to sleep late. Mum's always fighting with her to wake up. But she wasn't sleeping, she was sad 'cause she miss Grandpa and Nanna. Mum was cuddling her, she told me to wait out here and she'll come out when Rosie is asleep again.'

'Oh,' I said. I didn't know why, but I was worried that Rose was upset. I tried to shake the bad feeling and focus on the little beast I had in front of me. 'So, breakfast? What d'you want?'

'Porridge. That's what Mum always makes.'

'Of course you want that,' I chuckled, 'mind if I add a bit of fun to it?' He shook his head no. 'D'you like chocolate?'

'I love chocolate!' He shrieked, then hastily covered his mouth with his hands as if to quiet himself, turning to look towards the door of the spare room. After a few seconds, he let out a deep breath as he dropped his hands to the table – so much drama in such a small body.

I started to prepare porridge for both of us, plus a little extra food for me – you can't fuel a six-plus foot Auror with only a bowl of porridge – when Hugo spoke again.

'Do you like chocolate?'

'Of course I like chocolate,' I snorted as I turned my head to face him, 'only barmy people don't like chocolate.'

Hugo nodded in agreement, then closed the book and moved it to the side, putting his elbows in its place with his head resting on his hands.

'Have a mission? Today, I mean.' He asked. I shook my head no. 'That's good. Is it scary to be an Auror?'

'It was before. Sometimes, not always, though.' I answered. 'You see, the job isn't all about catching dark wizards; there are also a lot of boring missions. But you know what scares me the most?'

Hugo lifted his head and shook it fast. I waited a few seconds before I spoke again. Hugo was leaning over the table, curiosity evident on his face.

'Paperwork.' I said dramatically. 'Tons and tons of paperwork. They should warn you at the academy. Had I known, I may have reconsidered my career choice, I reckon.'

Hugo snorted loudly and dropped himself flat on the table, chuckling. I turned to the stove to finish making the food. A few charms later, we were sitting in front of each other, breakfast served. Hugo looked at me with a disappointed expression.

'Something wrong?' I asked, already knowing what he wanted by the frown on his face.

'Ha!' I said as I took out the box of chocolate sparkles that I had been hiding under the table and put a bit in his bowl. His face lightened up with a wide grin.

'You're fun, Uncle Ron.' Hugo took a spoonful of food, and just before he shoved it into his mouth, he added, 'I like you.'

I grinned. 'I like...you...too…' I trailed off, distracted by Hugo's face. He had closed his eyes as if he wanted to focus on savouring the taste of–

'Mmmmmm...chocolate,' he moaned.

The sight of him doing something that was so characteristically me made me feel uneasy, but at the same time, it felt somehow right. It was as if I was seeing myself through a mirror, but a mirror into the past. I felt a shiver run down my spine as a wave of something I couldn't describe washed over me. I didn't have much time to reflect on the feeling though, because Hugo began to talk again and ask me about my life. I knew I should just send him back to Hermione, finish my breakfast and head to work, but I reckon I was enjoying the chat with the little one, so I decided to stay a bit longer. Besides, I knew Robards would grant me the time since I rarely asked for anything.

After sending my Patronus to my boss, Hugo and I moved from the table to the sofa and resumed the conversation. As soon as we sat down, he again asked about my job. When I said I was an Auror, every kid I've met so far had been eager to know about the missions – the "cool" part of the job. But Hugo was different. Though he showed excitement over the chase and catch part, he didn't ask further into that.

He was hungry for knowledge. He wanted to know how we did our research and planned the missions. I told him that Harry (Hugo, of course, knew who Harry was) and I had come up with a new structure for the Office; that I was the Head of the Intelligence and Tactics Department while Harry had his own Department too, leading all the fieldwork and mission execution. Both of us worked under Gawain Robards, Head of the Aurors.

As I described what my Department was about, Hugo's face lit up. He was over the moon knowing that I got to lead a specialised group of Aurors into getting intel and planning strategies. I didn't know why, but seeing the proud smile on his face as he told me I had the coolest job in the world made my heart swell. Don't get me wrong; I'd surpassed my insecurities ages ago. I knew what I was worth. But still, the kid had changed the fate of my day from "sulking over Hermione" to "I'm gonna rub this in Harry sodding Potter's face".

I was the best. Hugo Granger thought I was wicked.

It was getting late, and I had to leave, but I didn't want to leave Hugo alone. I didn't have anything in the flat that was kid-friendly so that he could entertain himself whilst he waited for his mum and sister. Deciding that I would deal with that later, I excused myself to get ready for the day.

When I came out of my room, this time showered and dressed, Hugo was on the sofa with the same book he'd been reading earlier. As I rounded the edge of the sofa to take a place at his side, I stole a glance at the pages: Quidditch Through The Ages.

'Your mum got you a book about Quidditch?' I asked, not able to hide my tone of surprise.

'Nah,' he said as he lifted his hand and pointed to the shelf behind him with his thumb, 'I found it there. You don't mind, do you?' he asked, lifting his face to look at me, his brow slightly furrowed.

I shrugged. 'As long as you don't ruin it, we're all good.'

He snorted. 'I can't do wrong to a book! Mum would kill me! She can feel it when we do something to a book, I mean. She's not there, but then you touch one of her books and poof, she's there. And then she does the look.' At the last two words, he made a lower voice and shivered.

'Yeah, I know the look. You don't mess with the look.' I said with the same tone he had used. 'Anyway,' I added, sitting on the centre table in front of him, 'aren't you too young to be reading?'

'Can read some words,' he said proudly, 'just not the hard ones. Was looking the pictures really. I wish I can fly like that. You can, right, Uncle Ron? Mum said you're a keeper.'

'I was a keeper.' I corrected him.

The smile fell from his little face, and he looked back at the book, putting one hand on the page where a group of wizards were zooming in and out of a picture. Shit.

'Hey, don't...look. Ask your mum, and if she gives you permission, I'll teach to fly a bro–'

'YES!' he shrieked with a wide, slightly lopsided grin. 'I'm gonna fly high and fast! He said, making his hands move like brooms in the sky.

'Woah, slow down your Hippogriff, kid. First, you have to ask your mum. Then, if she agrees, I'll teach you how to ride a toy broom. I'll ask Harry today if we can borrow his kids' brooms, and we could give it a try this Thursday when we're at his place for his birthday party. What do you think?' Hugo nodded enthusiastically.

'Sorted, then!' I said as I ruffled his hair and stood up. I really needed to get to work.

I said my goodbyes to Hugo and headed to the Ministry, my mind full of images of a little red-headed boy zooming on a broom. The goofy grin that spreaded across my face lasted me until I got home again.

In the days that came next, despite the fact that Hermione and I didn't have the chance the sort out our situation – not with the kids buzzing around all the time – and that she was way more reserved than she'd been the day she arrived; I was the happiest I could remember in a long time.

Hermione had been adamant that the kids should get into a routine for their new life, for she had only a week before she started her new job at the Ministry. She gave them a first day to lay in and rest, but she would have them both dressed and fed early in the morning, ready to be dropped at The Burrow from Tuesday on.

Hermione wanted the kids to attend school, but she couldn't be reached during the day – not being in the Ministry of Magic – if anything happened to them, so Mum had offered to be their emergency contact. We've already had a fellytone once in the house, so we made the connections again. Mum practised a lot in the months that passed before the lot arrived, so she's become a master of Muggle communication these days.

Mum had been so insistent on helping that she somehow convinced Hermione to get a home in Ottery St Catchpole so she could be close enough to walk the kids from school to The Burrow. I had to give it to the old witch. She'd made a pretty good case with her 'What if the Floo fails, dear? I can't Apparate with the twins' speech. And in the end, she'd won, whether by good argumentation or by tiring Hermione, I couldn't tell.

So every day after work, I would go to The Burrow to pick up the twins, and we'd spend the evening wandering around Diagon Alley or having fun at the flat. Most of the time, we were alone since Hermione had to go work out the arrangements for the incoming school year and prepare their new home.

I'd learned so much about the twins in the days they stayed with me. I found out that both liked to read – shocking, I know, Hermione's children enjoyed reading! – but also, they both showed a significant interest in Quidditch. They also were as fond of chocolate as I was, which was a shame because Hermione was very strict about the amount of sweets they could get. However, I had to admit that when we were alone, there was a tiny bit of rule-breaking in that aspect.

Sod it. I gave the kids chocolate. Sue me.

Besides, if they were to complete their Chocolate Frog card collection, they had to get the chocolate, didn't they?

The first half of the week went by in a blink between work and the kids, and it was Thursday before I knew it. So far, Rose and Hugo had met some of the Weasleys and Potters at The Burrow, but they hadn't yet seen the whole lot – and we were quite the lot. So they were a bit nervous, which made them shy at the beginning, but after a while, they were playing with the other kids as if they'd known each other forever. It was comforting to see them playing around with the gang and fitting in so well.

Midway through the party, we grabbed the toy brooms and went outside for Rose and Hugo's first flying lesson. I could tell by Hermione's face that she was hesitant to let them get on a broom, but I knew she was just projecting her fears because the kids were bouncing on her heels as I explained to them the basics of flying. When they both got the gist of the theory, Harry helped Hugo as I took Rose, and we guided them around the yard as they began to practice.

They were on cloud nine as they flew from one side to the other, encouraged by the rest of the kids. The older ones had all brought their brooms, and were side by side with Hugo and Rose, and those who were too young – or too scared – to fly were running behind them on the ground. I stole a glance at Hermione to find her radiating happiness as she followed her children with her eyes, though she would still jump and frown every time they lost their balance.

After a few rounds, I let Rose go on her own and relieved Harry from Hugo. While she was a natural, he seemed to be having a bit of trouble controlling his broom. The memory of flying classes at Hogwarts filled my mind, and I had to suppress a laugh. Well, we know who takes after Hermione's talent for sports.

Despite his struggles, Hugo kept practising until the cake was ready and we had to land. I wasn't sure if he would be willing to give it another shot, but then I saw him go to Albus and ask if he could borrow his broom for a few days. As soon as Albus agreed, Hugo ran to me and asked me if we could practice at The Burrow the next few days because he wanted to fly with the other kids this Sunday at our monthly family get-together. I knew he wasn't my son, but it made me proud to see him so determined. He was a tough one.

After the cake was served, I took my plate along with a butterbeer, and went to the furthest corner of the garden to have a moment to myself. I sat on the ground, leaning against a small tree, and began to attack the sweet wonder I had in my hands as I watched the funny lot in front of me. They were all gathered around a long table. Adults were happily conversing about Merlin only knows what, and the kids were playing and eating simultaneously, making a mess wherever they passed. It was quite the sight. I spotted Hugo and Rose; they blended in so well, and it was amazing to watch.

'Knut for your thoughts?'

'Thought you were rich enough, Potter.'

'Twat.' Harry said as he sat beside me. 'So...Hugo and Rose.'

'Hugo and Rose.' I repeated, still looking at the twins.

'You all get along well, I see?'

'I reckon we do, yeah. They're pretty easy going, y'know?' I said as I turned to face Harry.

'Must've taken after the dad, 'cause we know the Mum is not the best in making a good first impression.' He mused. I felt a pang in my gut and couldn't help the hurt that showed up on my face.

'I didn't – shit! Sorry, mate…' Harry stammered.

'Yeah, nothing to be sorry about.' I reassured him.

I turned back to look at my family, and we stayed in silence for a while until Harry spoke again.

'You're not the same, you know.'

'What d'you mean?'

'I dunno, really. But you're different, like…' he trailed off as he seemed to be sorting out his thoughts. After a moment, he continued, 'You seem happy, you know? Not that you were sad before, but...you get it.'

'No, I bloody don't.'

Harry sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. 'Look, mate. There's been this...talk about you for a while between the family – sit back, you prat, don't make a scene before you listen to the whole shit.' He tugged me down to my previous spot.

'We all think – thought – that you were stuck,' he continued. 'If you compare yourself to the younger version of you from, let's say, six years ago, what differences do you see? Besides work, I mean. What do you see?'

I thought for a moment but found nothing. I was fucking stuck, wasn't I? With nothing to say, I just shrugged.

'Exactly!' said Harry. 'It was like you were living in the past.'

I turned to look at him, eyebrows up. 'Was?'

'You're different since they've been here.'

'I do feel different.' I conceded. Harry nodded but remained silent, so I went on. 'It's like...I dunno...when I hadn't met them, I didn't need them; but now that I have, I do. And I can't go back.

'It makes no bloody sense that in only four days they've made such a change in me, you know? But – bloody hell! – they did, mate.' I said as I ran my hands over my face, then dropped them flat on my thighs. 'I wake up every day with a smile because I know they'll be there. And I go all day grinning like a sodding idiot because I know that when I get home, I will get to watch Rose get all flustered 'cause Hugo is getting the grip at chess better than she is.

'It's like we're a family, yet we're not. At the end of the day, they're still not mine and Hermione and I are not together. And it's all so fucked up! So fucked up! What the fuck will I do next week when they leave?'

'I don't know, Ron.' Harry said, his voice soft and soothing. 'But I think you two should talk and sort things out.'

'We did. But I buggered it up; we both did, I think… I don't know.'

'Then talk again. Merlin, you're old enough to figure it out! I've seen her looking at you all evening, mate. Whatever you feel, I reckon she feels it too.'

I chuckled. 'Merlin, if you've noticed–'

'Yeah, yeah, you prat, laugh.' Harry cut me off, smirking as he stood up. When he'd shaken the earth and twigs off of his robes, he spoke again. 'Look, mate. I can't tell you what to do, but if I were you, I would talk to Hermione and clear it all up. Because that thing that happened today – that thing I saw between you and the kids – that's worth fighting for.'

As soon as he finished his speech, Harry turned around and left, not giving me time to retort. As he walked back to the lot, I looked past him to a young witch with bushy brown hair that was cleaning the face of a little version of herself and the little red-headed boy that was hugging her on the back. As I watched, a warm feeling spread throughout my entire body.

Hermione Granger, let's fucking talk.