A/N: I don't own Harry Potter

This is for the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Assignment #7 – Aquatic Studies - Task #1 - Hammerhead Shark:Write about being scared of something or someone

Writing Club April

Showtime: 23 - The Crucifixion: (action) crying

Warning: infertility

Word Count: 1167

"I don't want a baby, what part of that can't you understand?' Hermione asked, throwing the magazine on the floor. "And signing me up to receive Baby Monthly is not the way to argue your case!" It had arrived in the post today, with her name on the subscription block. She knew she hadn't ordered it.

"I just thought, maybe seeing all the cute little faces in cute little outfits staring up at you would make you want one too. I thought we talked about this before we got married, 'Mione. You know I want a big family."

"I know, Ron, but... right now... I'm up for a promotion at work. It's one step closer to getting my dream job. Could you just image how much good I can do if I'm Minister?" Hermione asked, looking her husband in the eyes. They'd been married for two years this month. They'd been trying on and off for a child for the last year. So far, they'd had no luck. Hermione had finally discovered why. It only made things harder.

Hermione knew part of the reason Ron was pushing so hard lately for them to have a child was the pressure his mum was putting on him to give her a grandchild. It apparently wasn't enough that she already had two; Victoire and Dominique.

She knew Mrs. Weasley would keep pushing the subject. That was part of the reason she'd started working Sunday nights, just to avoid dinner at the Burrow. She was surprised Ron hadn't figured that out yet.

"You have always wanted to change the world," Ron murmured. "But isn't changing our world, our family, just as important?" he asked, standing up. Hermione looked at the floor. There really wasn't a right answer. She knew no matter what she said, it would be the wrong thing. Lately everything she said tended to be the wrong thing.

"Yes, no, I mean, I don't want a baby right now," Hermione finally said. It wasn't exactly a lie, well, it was, but Hermione couldn't bring herself to fully admit it. Maybe if said it enough, it would become true, and her heart wouldn't break every time she saw a picture of a baby, or found out someone else was expecting.

"So you've said. I'm going to go out, talk to Harry, at least he's reasonable," Ron said, walking out the front door of their home and letting it slam behind him. Hermione stared at the door before shaking her head.

"It's not like we're not bloody well trying," she yelled at it, throwing her hands in the air. "It's not like it's my fault I can't conceive!" she screamed. She knew Ron couldn't hear her, but admitting those words out loud finally made something inside her break. She stormed into the bedroom and threw herself face down on the bed.

Hermione knew she was going to have to tell Ron the truth, eventually. It wasn't like she was trying to hide it, but how could she possibly tell him something so horrible?

Eventually, she would have to tell him that because of the spell she'd been hit with at the Department of Mysteries in their fifth year it was unlikely she would ever be able to conceive a child. She'd only found out this past month.

Part of her was terrified Ron would leave her once he knew. Another part, a smaller part she tried to ignore, wanted him to leave her. The idea of him leaving broke her heart, but she knew he would never be happy with her, not broken like this. All Ron had ever talked about was having a family and Hermione couldn't even give him that.

She cried herself to sleep, face buried in the pillow. She didn't hear Ron come home around midnight, didn't hear him put the flowers into a vase on the kitchen table. She didn't hear him come up the stairs to their room. She only stirred when he sat down on the bed and started stroking her hair.

"It's morning?" she asked groggily, raising her head slightly.

"Technically, yes, but no, it's just a bit after midnight. Look, I'm sorry for yelling at you, 'Mione. There's just a lot of pressure right now, and Ginny just announced that her and Harry are expecting..."

Hermione sat up, her hair flat where it had been pressed against the pillow.

"Ron, I'm sorry. I should have told you, I went to the healer last month, to see if maybe there was something they could do, to help us... you know."

"You didn't tell me."

"I didn't want to worry you that something might be wrong with me," Hermione whispered, tears stinging her eyes. Ron wiped them away.

"Hermione?"

"I can't have children," she blurted out. "The spell, our fifth year, the one that, you know. It's extremely unlikely I'll ever be able to have a child. I'm sorry."

Ron stared at his wife for a moment before pulling her to him and wrapping her in a tight hug.

"Hermione, I'm... I wish I had known."

"You can leave if you want. I know this isn't what you wanted, Ron. I know you wanted a huge family running around underfoot. I know you didn't want a broken witch who can't ever give you that."

"Hermione, look at me," Ron said, breaking the embrace and tilting Hermione's head so she was looking him in the eyes.

"I am not leaving you, 'Mione. I love you. I am disappointed we won't be able to have children of our own, but there's other ways. I mean, Charlie has his dragons wearing onsies in the Christmas card. There are orphans from the war, Muggle born children who are disowned by their parents, Hermione, even if we can't have our own children, we can figure out a way to have our family."

"Really? You're not leaving me?"

"Not unless it's what you want. Is it what you want?" Ron asked, Hermione could hear a slight touch of fear in his voice.

"No, not really. I just don't want you to hate me, resent me for what could have been."

Ron kissed her forehead, shaking his head.

"I could never hate you, Hermione. Why don't we sleep on this, maybe in the morning we can discuss where to go from here?"

Hermione nodded.

"Technically is it morning," she whispered, nearly laughing in relief. Ron didn't care that she was broken. He loved her and wasn't leaving her. He was right. There were other ways to have a family, as long as it wasn't dragon babies in onsies.

"Yes, it is, but I need sleep and I think you do too?" he suggested. Hermione snuggled against him, using his head as a pillow. Her eyes drooped slightly.

"Love you," she murmured as she fell asleep using Ron as a pillow. He smiled, wrapping an arm around her before closing his own eyes. They would figure this out in the morning, together.