AN: Thank you so much for all your fantastic comments. I love the reception I've been getting for this story and I'm so glad you all love single Dad Ron as much as me. This chapter is redemption for Ron, probably not in the way you're expecting, but I think you'll agree that he deserves this.

As always, my betas are amazing! Honestly, they sort out my shit writing and help me plot and this story would be nothing without them. And this chapter is dedicated for Edie K, she knows why! If you enjoy this one, please let me know and if you don't, it's fine to let me know as long as you're constructive and kind xxx

Ron and Hugo take a walk to the Burrow where the family discuss the events at the fete.

After days like yesterday, full of drama and arguments, Ron struggles to sleep. But with his nephew's warm weight in the bed next to him, he has one of the best night's sleep in a long time. Even with Hugo's constant tossing and turning and nighttime fidgeting, Ron still manages a full eight hours.

He wakes the following morning without the help of an alarm clock or the sun in his eyes and lets out a loud yawn as he rolls onto his back. There's a small elbow poking him in the face, but when he looks past it, he can see that the light emanating from the window is grey and gloomy.

Usually, there'd be some internal reflection on how the weather reflects his mood, but not today. Yesterday was his day for having a strop and wallowing in all of his hurt feelings, but after a decent night's sleep, he's feeling a little sunnier.

Up until Rose's interruption, Ron had been having a great day. Sure, Hermione's news was hard to deal with, but he's not going to allow it to ruin the whole experience. He enjoyed being a part of something great, and despite the fact he worked hard during the hottest day this year, he has a great sense of achievement from it all.

Ron has woken with new clarity, something he's been missing over the past couple of weeks. He's still upset, of course, but giving himself a chance to grieve, and throw a tantrum over everything, has helped him move past his initial hurt.

Now, Ron is keen to find out what happens next.

He's glad he decided to invite Hermione over tonight. Talking things out is the following step in moving on with his life. Ron isn't sure whether they can still have a relationship after everything that's happened, but clearing the air is still the best course of action. He still has to see her, even if Hugo only has another week in her class. Ron enjoys being a member of the PTA, and he hopes to stay on the committee until Hugo leaves the school. And that means learning to work with Hermione.

A slight pang of loss strikes his heart, forcing Ron's face to cloud over. He was so hopeful that things could be great for him and Hermione and was looking forward to starting a proper family, just the three of them. But he knows he has to move on with his life—for his and Hugo's sake.

Something wriggling in the bed brings Ron back to the present and alerts him to the fact that a small child is waking up next to him. With a grin, he slides his hands to Hugo's side and starts to tickle him.

"No, no." Hugo squirms, trying his best to fight his uncle off. "Stop it. I'm ticklish."

"I know. That's why I'm doing it. You fidgeted all night long, so it's time for payback."

Hugo's infectious laughter fills the room as he kicks out in an attempt to get away from Ron's fingers. But the elder Weasley is bigger, and Hugo eventually succumbs to the attack.

They play fight until they're both panting for breath, and the pair collapse back onto the mattress, lying upside down with their feet on the pillows, Hugo's head resting on his uncle's arm.

"I won," he declares, throwing his arms up in victory and almost punching Ron in the face.

Ron raises his eyebrows as he asks, "How did you work that out?"

"I just did."

Realising there's no point in arguing with the eight-year old's logic, Ron rolls onto his side and starts to haul himself out of bed. "Fine, I'll let you take this one."

They lie in silence for a moment before Hugo rolls more towards Ron. He shuffles closer so that their noses are touching before asking, "Did you get to meet Rose yesterday?"

Ron shakes his head. "Not really. Did you?"

"Yeah! Did you know she's Miss Granger's kid?"

"Nope, Miss Granger didn't tell me."

He tries his best to quell the residual annoyance that threatens to bubble into something more. Hugo's questioning is innocent, and it's not his fault Hermione blindsided Ron yesterday.

"Me neither." Hugo laughs. "Rose is cool, though. She told some funny jokes."

"That's great, kid. Maybe Miss Granger will let you hang around with her if you ask nicely. Do you want a champion's breakfast?" Ron starts to get out of bed, done with the conversation. Every mention of Rose's name adds a stab of pain to his stomach, and he'd prefer to stay in a good mood today.

"Yeah!" Hugo follows Ron.

"Go get yourself dressed then. I'll meet you in the kitchen."

⁂

Since both he and Hugo woke up with a ton of energy, once they've devoured their breakfast and tidied up, Ron decides that they should walk to the Burrow. The gorgeous weather that shone down on the fete yesterday has completely disappeared, replaced with drizzly, grey clouds, but it does nothing to deter the pair from their adventure.

With wellies and raincoats on, they set off from the house and head through the village. As they pass the old fire station, Ron glances up at the third floor, wondering what Hermione is doing. Hopefully, she is enjoying spending time with her daughter and will be in a good mood when they meet up later. Although he yearns to walk up to the building and have it out with her now, he drops his head back down to focus on Hugo.

It'll be worth the wait.

As they head into the countryside, Hugo starts to drag his heels. For once, he doesn't complain that he's tired, and instead, he decides to enjoy his walk. He stops and crouches low next to the hedgerow every few steps, no doubt looking for creatures and animals. At the next gate, the kid stops and climbs a few rungs to peer into the field.

"What are they growing in here?" he asks.

"Corn, I reckon. Though sometimes they change the crop."

"Why?"

Hugo always has a hundred questions. He's a curious child and needs to know every minute detail about everything that goes on in the world. More than once over the past few years, Ron has found himself having to Google the answers to Hugo's interrogation to make sure he provides the correct response.

The kid is going to be the brainiest child on the planet. Maybe he'll be a rocket scientist or the next Prime Minister.

"Plants release different nutrients, so by swapping the crop, it makes the soil better," he finally tells Hugo. At least he didn't have to Google the answer for this one.

It's overwhelming sometimes. Although Ron is clever, he hasn't got the same level of intelligence needed to keep up with Hugo. Homework is manageable for now, but as Hugo moves through the years towards high school, it's getting harder for Ron to be helpful. If Hugo carries on in this trajectory, Ron is going to have to hire professional help.

Or you could forgive Hermione tonight, admit your undying love for her. Then she can help.

Ron shakes the thought from his head. It might not be that easy to bury the hatchet, and even if he can, they might not be able to move past what happened yesterday. He can no longer assume that things will work out, but he's made his peace with that. Instead, he's going to take each day as it comes and try not to think too hard about what the future might look like.

By the time Ron and Hugo make it to the Burrow, the grey clouds have turned dark, and the wind is picking up. A storm is brewing, but Ron ignores the sense of foreboding that comes with it. He will not allow anything to ruin his day. The Potter's have parked their people carrier on the drive, Ron has got a six-pack of beers in his rucksack, and Hugo is in a good mood.

How can it get any better than this?

Hugo runs ahead, a little red flash chasing through the chickens, sending them squawking and fleeing from his ferocious roar. The kid doesn't bother to knock. Instead, he barges his way into the farmhouse in search of his cousins.

"Mum, Dad. I'm here!" Ron calls as he hangs up his and Hugo's coats then wanders through to the kitchen, inhaling the scent of roast lamb as he moves. Despite the short amount of time since they had breakfast, his tummy rumbles. There's nothing better in the world than his mum's cooking, even if it sometimes comes with a dollop of bad advice.

Pressing a kiss to his mum's cheek, Ron ignores her assessing look. After checking she's doing okay, he peers over his dad's shoulder at the latest headlines. "Anything exciting going on in the world of Ottery St. Catchpole?"

Arthur lifts his head from the broadsheet long enough to give his youngest son a wide smile. "Nope. As boring as usual and that's how we like it. There's a nice write up of the fete, but that's it. I've been browsing the classifieds to see if there are any bits and bobs for me."

"Not that he needs anything else," Molly tuts.

Ron's dad loves collecting things, especially parts of old cars and antiquated electronics. As soon as the children moved out, he converted the garage—which had been a playroom until then—into a workshop. Arthur's favourite hobby is taking every item he finds from the free ads or picks up from massive skips outside building sites, pulling it apart piece by piece, then putting it back together again without the manuals. He doesn't even mind if they don't work afterwards. It's the process Arthur enjoys, and his workshop and the backyard are a graveyard of every successful and unsuccessful project.

"Where are Ginny and Harry? Their car is in the drive."

"We're here!" They enter the kitchen from the staircase, looking harassed and bothered.

"We were just sorting out the kids. They're already fighting, and we've only been here for ten minutes. Did you bring them?" Harry questions, eyeing Ron with thirsty eyes.

"Yeah, I've got the beers." Ron shrugs off the rucksack and removes the six-pack, offering it to Harry, who takes it with a grin.

"Treehouse?"

"Wait, that's not fair!" Ginny pipes up. "You can't leave me up here with the kids. They'll drive me nuts."

"You go down, too, love," Molly says with a smile. "Me and Dad can keep an eye on the kids for a while."

"You're only having one, though," Harry protests as they head out of the kitchen. "You promised you would drive."

The drizzle Ron left as he entered the Burrow earlier has turned into a full-blown storm, and the trio run through the soggy grass and mud to avoid getting soaked. They hurry to climb the haphazard ladder, their feet slipping on the wet wood. It's a squeeze to get all three into the house, but eventually, they settle—Harry, then Ginny, then Ron—with their backs against the furthest wall and their feet pressing against the opposite sides. The confined space means they're sitting hip to hip, with elbows invading each other's personal space, but it's cosy, acting as a shield against the violent weather outside.

Harry cracks open the pack and hands out the first set of cans. Ron takes a deep breath as he waits for his, letting the smell of the treehouse in the rain take him back to when he was twelve, and Fred and George gave Ron his first taste of booze. They'd snuck a bottle of inexpensive whiskey out of Arthur's alcohol cupboard one Halloween, and Ron hadn't needed more than a couple of sips before he'd started to feel dizzy. He'd almost fallen out of the wooden hut in his attempt to get back up to the house.

Unfortunately, he didn't make it back to the Burrow in time and ended up puking on his parents' over the top lawn decorations. As a reward, his mum grounded Ron for two weeks, a massive injustice he was keen to remind his family of whenever he got the chance. He wasn't the one who stole the whiskey from the cupboard, and he'd only had a bit. The twins, as always, seemed to get away with it, having stashed the bottle in a nearby bush before rushing to 'help' Ron.

"So, how did your stall do yesterday?" he asks Harry before taking a large swig of his beer, enjoying the cooling sensation of the bitter liquid as he swallows.

Drinking from cans with his friends and putting the world to rights is the perfect way to spend summer. He and Harry have thrashed out so many issues and problems over the years drinking beer in this treehouse, although they usually don't invite Ginny to join them.

"Ugh, don't even get me started on it." Harry sighs. "Slughorn slept through the whole thing then woke up at the end of the fete moaning about his sunburn. I think we sold two bottles in total."

"And then I had to listen to Harry whining about it all night," Ginny adds, throwing her husband a wry smile as she rolls her eyes. "But the fete was a success, and McGonagall looked pleased at the end, which is the most important part."

Ron pouts. "Did she make another big speech?"

"Yeah. It's a shame you missed it. She still needs to count up the floats, but the way she was gushing about Weasley's Watering Hole, it was clear she thinks you've won," Harry admits, with a faint undertone of bitterness in his voice.

"Dammit! I would have liked to ride on some of that glory."

Ginny pats her brother's leg. "Well, she's announcing the results at the school disco. Harry is going to facetime me, so I don't miss out. Although are you still paired with Hermione for chaperoning that too?"

"Yep." Ron lets out a heavy sigh.

The treehouse goes quiet for a moment, and Ron plays with the ring pull on his can. Out of the corner of his eye, Ron can see Harry and Ginny exchange meaningful looks, communicating in their silent way that always infuriates him. They've been in each other's lives for so long now, it should be easy for the two of them to say whatever they need to discuss out loud without worrying about repercussions. Ron is stuck with Ginny as a sister, and he's been friends with Harry for far too many years for Ron to dump him over something as small as being honest with each other.

"Spit it out," he growls, turning his head to look at his sister and her husband with raised eyebrows.

"We, uhm, we could see there was a heated discussion going on between you and Hermione, but I couldn't hear you over Slughorn's whining," Harry says. "Then you stormed out. What happened?"

"Turns out she has a kid, but she neglected to tell me about her."

"Oh…shit." Harry pulls another beer from the case, cracks the ring pull then leans over Ginny to give it to Ron, who takes it with a grateful smile. "Was that the girl talking to Hugo?"

"Yeah. Her name is Rose. But it's okay, I don't need sympathy or anything from you guys. Hermione is coming over tonight once Hugo is in bed, and we're going to chat about it. It's only fair that I hear her out. After that? Well, we'll see."

Despite the fact he says he's okay, Ginny rests her head on Ron's shoulder anyway. He's grateful for the action. It reminds him that through all the bad advice and suggestions he gets, there's at least one of his siblings on his side. In fact, most of them have supported him pursuing Hermione, unlike their mum.

"At least Hugo likes Rose," Ron adds with a smile.

Ginny lifts her head and takes a sip from her can before questioning, "Yeah?"

"Yeah. The kid won't stop talking about her, even though they only had a brief interaction yesterday. In fact, it might even beat his infatuation with Hermione."

"Well, that's something, I guess. Although I wouldn't tell Mum, she'll just say it's another thing that might upset Hugo if you and Hermione don't get back together."

They sit like this in comfortable silence for a little longer, but soon Molly calls them out of the garden for dinner.

"Wanna chug the last two cans?" Harry grins at his best mate, offering one of the remaining drinks to him.

"Sure!"

Ron takes the can, ignoring Ginny rolling her eyes at them.

"You two are getting old now, don't forget you can't drink like you used to. And Ron, you need to stay in your right mind if you want a decent conversation with Hermione."

"One more won't hurt." Ron shrugs then counts down from three before attempting to empty the can in one go. Ginny is right; it takes him a little longer these days, but eventually, the final cans are empty. He collects up the rubbish then hurries back up to the house through the rainstorm.

⁂

Sunday lunch is a quieter affair than expected. Only the Potters and Ron have come to the Burrow with their families, meaning all of the adults can fit around the large wooden table that takes up most of the kitchen. The children sit at the garden table, which Harry and Arthur brought in and set up in the front room, and a cacophony of laughter and jokes filters through to the grown-ups as they tuck into Molly's delicious roast lamb.

The usual conversations stop the adults from descending into silence. The family discuss the last week of school for the children and what they used to get up to during that blissful week when they were small. Holiday plans come next, and Ron makes a mental note to try and book a trip for him and Hugo as far away from Devon as possible—it'll suck if they're the only ones who can't go on holiday this year. Then the banter switches to speculation on whose football teams will come top of the league, along with a healthy dose of abuse aimed at Ron, who supports a team that is always in the relegation zone.

Then the chat comes around to yesterday's successful fete. Ron's stomach squirms as the family analyses every stall's contents and tries to determine who might have won McGonagall's competition. As they talk, his mum's eyes burn into him. She keeps on flapping her mouth open and closed as if looking for a good moment to interject, impatience burning in her eyes. It's clear that a family member has filled her in on what happened once the fete closed yesterday, and Molly is eager to say her bit.

Ron keeps the conversation going, asking inane questions about some of the stands he didn't get a chance to visit, but eventually, he runs out of options, and the talk comes to Weasley's Watering Hole. A small buzz of pride attacks his heart as most of the family shower the stand with praise, but then the table goes quiet, and his mum finally gets her chance to speak.

"Well, I enjoyed my turn at the stall. It was a lot of fun, really colourful," she starts, and Ron lifts his head, feeling optimistic that she might just be praising him for it all. And then she opens her mouth again. "I especially enjoyed getting to know Miss Granger a little bit better. It's such a shame because she is a lovely girl, and I can see why you were smitten with her, Ronnie."

Ron closes his eyes and takes a huge breath, holding it for five seconds then taking his time to release it. As he does, some of the tension held in his shoulders disappears too. When he looks around the table, he finds all of the Weasley adults staring back at him. The tips of his ears burn red hot, but he ignores the feeling.

"What's a shame, Mum?" he asks, keeping his voice level. If he wants to control this conversation, he cannot afford to lose his rag.

"She has a child. That was a bit of a surprise when Georgie told me this morning. You didn't mention anything about her the other weekend when we talked."

Ron resists the urge to roll his eyes. Did George tell her, or did she ask the right questions to get the tasty information from him? He's pretty sure he knows which way that conversation went, but it's not something he wants to challenge her on right now. He has other fish to fry.

"No, but that's because I didn't know about Rose. For whatever reason, Hermione chose not to disclose that when we were spending time together. She will be coming to mine tonight, though, and I'm sure she'll tell me then."

Molly sets her knife and fork down with a sigh. "You're seeing her again?"

"In that, she's coming to talk to me about what happened yesterday, then yes. But we're not currently dating."

"Oh, good. I thought you closed things off," Molly affirms, more to herself than Ron.

He tries to keep his voice calm, and even as he replies, "I did, yes. But I think it's only fair that I hear Hermione out, don't you agree?"

Mum huffs but doesn't say anything more straight away. With shaking hands, Ron cuts off another piece of meat, although he's not sure why, because he's no longer hungry. His stomach has tied itself into one giant knot, and if he doesn't get this conversation over with soon, he might throw up. Over the years, avoiding confrontations and letting people down has become a unique skill of his, but he's not sure he can put up with it for much longer.

Ron is fed up with how his mother speaks to him and controls every aspect of his and Hugo's life.

He swallows the hard lump of lamb down, wincing as it sticks in his dry throat, and he almost chokes.

"Well, just be careful," Molly says. "I wouldn't want Hugo to get upset."

It's not the worst thing his mum has said to him, but it's the straw that breaks the camel's back. Since he adopted Hugo two years ago, his life has been full of advice that he didn't ask for and small digs about his parenting skills. Everyone thinks they know what's best for both Ron and Hugo, but he refuses to listen to it any longer. At the end of the day, Ron is the only person who stepped up to adopt the kid when Fred died, and the only one sacrificing any sort of personal life to look after a child that isn't even his, not that he begrudges Hugo any of it, of course.

What's best for Hugo and what's best for Ron are not mutually exclusive.

The only thing Ron has been shit at recently is realising that he should be listening to his heart instead of allowing his family's opinions to affect his decisions. Hugo is healthy. He's good in school, tries at sports, and stands up for what he thinks is right, although that isn't a lot considering he's only eight years old. He's a bloody good kid, and Ron knows that he's doing an excellent job at bringing his nephew up.

He puts his cutlery down, being careful not to make too much noise or act in a way that his family might perceive as angry. He folds his hands then rests them on the table in front of him. After taking a shaky breath, he looks his mother dead in the eyes, ignoring the pounding of his heart as he says,

"The only thing that may upset Hugo is me being unhappy and the Cannons losing. It works the same for me, too. And ever since I listened to your advice the other week, I've been fucking miserable."

A gasp reverberates around the table at his use of a swear word, but he doesn't allow it to put him off. Molly's cheeks colour as she digests what he says.

"I don't know what you're talking about, love." She keeps her eyes fixed on her youngest son. "I'm only looking out for the two of you."

"And I'm grateful for that, Mum, and everyone else. But unless I ask for it, I don't need it. It's messing up my life and confusing me. I don't know where my opinions end and yours begin anymore."

Arthur's eyes flit from Molly to Ron then back again. He takes his glasses off and wipes them on his napkin before saying in a soft voice, "Now come on, Ron, don't you think you're being a little unfair to your mum?"

"No," Ron shouts, stopping himself from slamming his hands down on the table just in time. He doesn't want the kids to know they're arguing. He lowers his voice before continuing, "What's unfair is Mum trying to control me. I live with Hugo all the time. I know what he loves and what makes him upset. Also, it shows how little faith Mum has in me, that she assumes I'm just going to jump straight into a relationship with Hermione without thinking about all the eventualities.

"I took Hugo for pizza the other day, and he asked why I didn't have a girlfriend. He was curious about it, and do you know who he suggested I went out with? Hermione. Hugo adores her, and she loves him. Do you know how rare that is? To find someone as brilliant as Hermione who will accept the fact that I have a kid and the rest of my fucked up history as well? Rose might have been the icing on the cake if we were together. A ready-made family for Hugo."

"I just think—"

Ron raises his voice just enough to cut Molly off. "It wouldn't be the worst thing in the world if we decide to get back together and make a go of things. But that's for me and her to decide. The only people who get a say in it are Hugo and Rose."

His heart thumps in his chest. Can someone die from standing up for themselves? He's never done it before, and he's scared that his mum will throw him out or refuse to offer him any more help with looking after Hugo. Why couldn't he have tackled something smaller first?

Still, it needs to be said, or he and Hugo will always be living under her control.

He turns to the rest of the family, who are now gaping at him. "The same goes for the rest of you, especially with the gossip in the group chat. And bets. No more of it. I'm fed up with my personal life being the source of entertainment for everyone. If I need advice, I'll come and ask for it, okay?"

A low murmur bounces around the table, although nobody dares to say anything out loud. Molly and Ron glare at each other for a little longer, and he makes sure his stare is unwavering. He will not be the first to back down, not this time. After what feels like forever, she finally shifts her attention back to her dinner plate.

"Arthur, love. Pass me the gravy, please?"

When she takes the boat, her hands are shaking, but she hasn't dared to argue Ron's point. Every beat of his pulse sounds in his ears, but his heart soars with joy. He has finally stood up for himself, something he's wanted to do for a long time. Winning the battle against his mum has made him feel like he can achieve anything. He only hopes this mood will carry through the afternoon until he sees Hermione later.

Awkwardness descends on the table due to the confrontation. Ron knows it's down to him to resolve it. With a smile, he fills his fork with more food, finally feeling hungry again.

"So this disco on Friday night, what can I expect? Is it going to be completely awful, just like it used to be when we were there? Or have they hired a decent DJ? Will you be helping with the food, Mum?"

With all the questions Ron throws out, the tension breaks as the Weasley siblings reminisce on their worst and best memories of the school discos at Ottery Junior School. Across the table, Harry lifts his glass in a toast to Ron, a proud smile on his face.

Ron is satisfied that he's done his best. Maybe he'll stop being the butt of everyone's jokes and will be allowed to live his life the way he wants to from now on.