This story is dedicated to my Dad, who today left the Kandahar Air Field in Afghanistan. After nine long months, he's finally coming home. I'm one of the lucky one's however. When my Dad gets here, he'll ask me how every thing is, instead of saying nothing at all.
Support our troops.
Hero
"I can't do this Hermione! You can't do this!"
"It's my job Ron," she said pulling on her coat. "There are hurt people out there who need my help. The need it Ron."
He looked at her appraisingly, and turned so that he wasn't facing her.
"What about Eric Hermione? You promised him tonight. It's his birthday for Merlin's sake. You can't just leave." It was a punch below the belt, he knew, but he was out of options.
"One day he'll realize I was doing the right thing Ron. I'm a healer. I have to be there. I should be home before midnight." She turned to open the door.
"You can't fucking walk out! We haven't had dinner together in two weeks! Our son keeps asking me where you are, and when I tell him, he asks me why you're gone so much!" He punched the wall angrily.
Hermione turned to face him, the rain coming down hard outside their little home.
"I need my work Ron, and it needs me. Eric will understand that someday."
"How Hermione? How will he understand if you're not here to tell him?"
"I-I'll explain it when I get home." She turned the other way.
"What are you going to do? Wake him up at midnight and ask him how feels about it?"
She walked up to him, eyes blazing and poked his chest, causing him to step back. "It takes two to tango you know."
"What's that supposed to mean? I don't get up and leave all the time!"
She went to storm out the door and then turned back to look at him. "If you don't understand why I'm doing this Ron," she gulped air, "then maybe we shouldn't be together."
She stood outside the door, rain running down her jacket and disappeared.
Ron went and slammed the door closed. Then he realized he wasn't the only one in the room. Their five-year-old son Eric was peering through the banisters on the steps.
"Come here buddy," said Ron walking around to the bottom of the staircase. Eric stumbled down them and into his Father's arms, letting out a little grin. He had a gap in his mouth from where a quaffle had hit him in the face. He wouldn't get his two front teeth for another four years.
"Where's Mom Daddy?" he asked.
Ron carried him to the couch and sat him down. Kneeling in front of him he started to explain.
"You know Mommy's a healer right little guy? Well tonight Mommy's going to go out and save lives of a whole bunch of people because there was a really bad accident. Your Mom is a hero little man."
"But it's my birthday!" Ron frowned and massaged his temples.
"I know buddy. But we're going to do a big birthday party tomorrow okay?"
Eric put on a pout. He stuck his index finger in his brown curls and began to twirl it around his finger. "Can't she be a hero tomorrow?"
Ron laughed and plucked his son's freckled nose. "Got your nose!" he said. Eric let out a squeal and chased him around the living room, until they ended up in a wrestling match. Eric won.
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Ron turned on the television Hermione had convinced him to get. He turned it down so not to wake Eric and flicked through a few channels before settling on the muggle news.
The fireplace lit up, and a man's face balanced on a lime green collar appeared.
"Mr. Weasley? Can I floo?"
"Yes of course," said Ron, recognizing the healers uniform. He turned off the telly, and stood up to greet the man. A balding healer stepped through the fireplace.
"Mr. Weasley, I'm afraid I have some bad news," he said as Ron went to shake his hand. He pulled back.
"Is it Hermione? What's wrong?"
"We had a busy night tonight Mr. Weasley, and there was an accident."
"What happened?" said Ron frantically. He shook the man's shoulders. Instantly four other men were in the room pulling Ron off the healer.
"We had a dark wizard come in Mr. Weasley. He was shooting everywhere and we couldn't manage to get his wand away in tine... I'm desperately sorry."
Ron fell to the ground; his body gave way. He started to cry and sobbed into his hands.
"No, no, no, no, no!" He moaned her name into the carpeted floor. But there was nothing he could do to bring her back.
"Daddy?" The quiet voice from the stairs brought him out of his trance.
Eric made his way down the stairs, a teddy bear in one hand. His pajama's were covered in broom sticks.
"Daddy. What's wrong?" He moved slowly towards Ron, his eyes wide.
Eric. Ron had forgot. In this mess of everything, he had forgot about Eric. He sat up and wiped his face.
"Come here little man," he said patting the carpet beside him. " I want to tell you a story about your Mom. Mom was a hero tonight."
