Ron pulled the car around to the entrance of the hospital. Hermione had been so insistent on him learning to drive it in time for the baby. "We can't just apparate you know" she had said. She was right of course, and at the time, it had made sense. Come to think of it now, he had no idea how wizards brought home infants. He was far too young to remember Ginny coming home. "It must be floo powder," he supposed. He was grateful now that he had learned to drive the car. It had been six long days since they had arrived at the hospital, six days full of tears and heavy silences. Hermione still seemed to be just a shell of herself and Ron wondered if she would have even been able to use floo powder let alone apparate.

She sat there now by the door waiting for him. She looked like her pale blue jumper might swallow her up. Her hair fell limply around her face hiding her empty eyes from view. He had to remind himself that it had only been six days. He had always known Hermione to be so resilient; she had never been one to fall apart at the seams. She always had a plan, always a solution, always. But there was no plan, no solution; this wasn't a problem to be fixed. It was a tragic experience that they had shared, were sharing. It was all too much.

Ron stepped out of the car into the fresh autumn breeze. The light wind seemed to clear the painful haze from his eyes as he walked to Hermione. He gently brushed her cheek with the tips of his fingers, wiping away a solitary tear. She started, her gaze snapping to his. She had clearly been lost in thought as he just had. "Are you ready Love?" he asked. She nodded and reached for his hand. Her fingers were thinner, her face too. He kicked himself for not noticing before, he couldn't remember the last time she had eaten, he had been so wrapped up in his own grief that he hadn't seen how much she had been suffering. She had become a shadow of her former self right in front of his eyes and hadn't even noticed.

He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and gently led her to the car. As he walked back around to the driver side, he took a few deep breaths. "I can do this, we can do this" running on repeat through his head.

…

He pulled up the drive to their small cottage. They had bought the place only a year earlier, Hermione had loved it because it reminded her of the fairytales her parents had read to her as a child. It was small and cozy with a large garden at the back. At the front a cobbled path leading to the door, a lonely willow tree in the yard that they would spend the long summer days under. Now as he parked the car, the cottage felt cold and barren. Too big for just the two of them, The same willow tree looming above the door, drooping branches waving threateningly in the breeze, reaching out to grab them.

As they opened the door and lit the lights, Ron had a gut wrenching feeling he had forgotten something. Hermione wandered down the hall san to her knees on the floor. The nursery, he had forgotten the nursery.

Ron rushed down the narrow hallway dropping to the floor beside Hermione. He clutched he as tightly as he dared. "I'm so sorry" he mumbled into her hair. Tightness welled in his chest a he looked at her profile. He eyes were wide and blank, staring into the silent room.

They had only finished the final touches the week before they had rushed to the hospital. The room was light and airy with a bay window facing the garden. The walls were a stunning mural painted by Luna, a cheery forest full of deer and rabbits, small creatures peeking around hidden corners. Hermione had bewitched the ceiling to show lazily floating clouds and shooting stars.

Directly across from the door where they sat crumpled on the floor stood the bassinet. It had been a gift from his mother and like all the hand-me-downs Ron had received in his life, it was well worn and well loved. Hermione had been thrilled to receive it. She hadn't ever had anything passed down to her, being an only child, that it was a precious gift.

Now it was yet another reminder of a precious gift they had lost. It sat there empty. Mocking them from across the room the sun coming in the window to light on the mobile above. The tiny plush owls twirled and Ron felt the last shard of his heart break in two. He clutched at Hermione's too large jumper tears welling up in his eyes. She turned to him, brown eyes locking onto his blue. "He's gone," she whispered. He nodded and finally let the tears fall.