Me & My Girl
"Are you OK?" asked Hermione, because Hermione always knew what to say in these moments. Harry had just explained that he'd split up with Ginny, and Ron was trying to stay calm about it, even though he felt dismayed and indignant for them both. He wanted to slip out of their compartment, find his little sister and check she was okay. But Harry was being surly, which meant he was sad and agitated, and Ron needed to be here for him too. This was exactly the kind of befuddling division of loyalties Ron had been wary of when his best friend started dating his sister.
"Yeah, fine," grunted Harry, "Can we talk about something else?"
Yes, please can they all stop discussing this? But Ron's mind had gone blank. He couldn't think of anything. Why could he not think of anything? Oh God, quick, think of something to say…
"Tonks and Remus, eh?" he blurted, "Who'd have thought it?"
Well that was a daft comment, that was a another break-up. Or something like that. Ron hadn't really understood when Tonks started yelling at Lupin in the hospital wing.
"Yes, it explains a lot, doesn't it? I wonder when that happened," Hermione added quickly. Ron appreciated the way she jumping on to his random-sounding subject-change. He and Hermione were good at that. Often they didn't even need to look at each other to know what the other was thinking.
"You didn't know?" Ron asked her, genuinely unsure.
Hermione shook her head. "No,"
This surprised Ron, because Hermione usually knew everything about other people's love lives. She didn't gossip like other girls, but she hoarded information. Who was going out with or fancied each other were facts to Hermione, exactly like the thirteen steps of Arithmanthatic translation was a fact. Ron imagined all these facts being neatly filed in Hermione's brain, like the books in her beloved library were.
"Me neither! Odd couple or what? He's old enough to be her dad!" he exclaimed, cringing internally at how Obviously-Switching-The-Topic his voice sounded.
"No, he isn't. Remus is the same age as Harry's parents would be, he's thirty-seven. Tonks is twenty-four. She's the same school year as Charlie," Hermione rattled off. How did she remember stuff like that? Ron didn't even know how old Charlie was.
"Still, thirteen years is loads older," he insisted. Thirteen years older than them was thirty. Thirty-one, nearly, for Hermione. And even though she'd always acted like an adult, thirty-one was far too old for her.
Hermione nodded, and Ron felt relieved. "They must have got together and split up," she mused.
"Perhaps that's why he went to spy on Greyback. Blimey, bit drastic,"
Theatrically, Hermione rolled her eyes around the train compartment, and finished by pinning Ron with a pointed look. He wasn't sure what to make of that. Sometimes Hermione was ostentatiously tetchy for no real reason. And sometimes there was a reason she was tetchy but Ron didn't know what that reason was. Considering how well he understood Hermione, he really didn't understand her.
"What do you reckon, Harry?"
"What? Oh, Tonks. I dunno," Harry mumbled.
"Didn't you think she had a thing for Sirius?" Ron remembered.
"Evidently not," growled Harry.
"What girl would go for Lupin with Sirius around, eh?"
"Plenty of them!" interjected Hermione, "Remus is really clever and interesting. And he's fun- remember the Hinkypunks?"
Only Hermione would call a Defence Against The Dark Arts lesson from four years ago "fun". Hermione had also started to call Lupin by his first name, like she was proving that she was a real adult, on his level. Ron was trying to join in too, but it still felt unnatural. He hoped she didn't start calling Mad-Eye Moody "Alastor".
"Thought you said he was too old?" Ron pressed.
"He is. But I don't think it's out of the question that Tonks would fancy him,"
"How come?"
"Because he's nice! He's a good conversationalist. They'd have a lot to talk about,"
"Only 'cos Tonks doesn't shut up,"
"Remus is a good listener,"
"I s'pose they both change shape," Ron shrugged, "It's not the same but it must be pretty weird for them both,"
Going out with a werewolf must have been hard. Lupin always got ill around the full moon, and he was hardly the picture of good health the rest of the time. Plus, werewolves were freaky. Ron was used to being around Lupin, but werewolves in general were bad news, especially now so many were in league with the Death Eaters.
"Anyway, you're right, Hermione, it sounded like they went out before. They must have been dead sneaky with it if you didn't even notice anything. I'll ask Ginny, she's big mates with Tonks," Ron suggested, then winced when he realised he'd mentioned his sister.
"They were holding hands," murmured Harry.
"When?" Hermione demanded.
"At the funeral,"
"Maybe they sorted things out after the hospital wing," said Hermione, with uncertainty in her voice.
Harry shrugged, folded his arms over his narrow chest, and slumped against the window. "Maybe".
Ron was giddy and jittery, the way he always felt the evening before Hermione arrived. He wasn't used to being away from her and Harry, even for a couple of weeks. Last Christmas was the first school holiday in years where Ron had been away from Hermione for the whole break. Despite what he'd insisted at the time, Ron knew that he was mostly to blame for that. The whole Lavender business had been a foolish idea. Okay, some aspects of it had been fun and new and exciting, but only because he hadn't done those things before, not because Lavender was the person he was doing them with. As girlfriends went, she was far more of a girl than a friend. Anyway, he'd ruined things with Hermione for a while, and she hadn't come for Christmas and he'd missed her. Ron couldn't accurately remember, but he reckoned that this holiday would be the first time Hermione had come to the Burrow since the end of third year. That was disconcerting, because as far as Ron was concerned Hermione belonged here. She was part of the family.
Then something hard and round hit him in the back of the head. "Ouch!"
"Too slow!" chirped Fred, as the Quaffle bounced onto the floor, "Wake up, Ronald,"
Ron had tried to settle his agitation by suggesting that he, Ginny and the twins throw a Quaffle around in the back garden, though he couldn't concentrate on the game properly.
"That's the fourth one you've missed," grumbled Ginny.
"And this boy allegedly helped Gryffindor win two Quidditch cups in a row," scoffed George.
"How many did you two win? Oh yeah- one," Ron snapped.
"Somebody's on edge today," noted Fred.
"Wonder if it's to do with a certain curly-haired boffin arriving tomorrow?" added George.
"Remember what it says in the book," added Fred in a stage-whisper.
"What book?" Ginny interjected.
"Nothing," said Ron and the twins simultaneously.
"Looks like our cue to leave," said Fred, making a big show of checking his watch, "It's early opening tomorrow morning,"
Fred and George came home for Order stuff, and to cadge tubs of Mum's cooking, but most of the time they were busy at the shop.
"When are you next here?" Ginny asked.
"Thursday?" shrugged Fred.
George tossed the ball to Ginny and said, "See you two then. Or Wednesday. I dunno,"
They said goodbye and, as the twins wandered back into the house, Ginny dropped the Quaffle and plopped down on the grass. Ron sat beside her and stretched his legs out.
"Going to tell me what this mysterious book is?" Ginny asked.
Ron glanced at her. "Fred and George bought it for me. That's all you need to know,"
He'd been studying hard over the last few days. Compliments, manners, when to help and when to step back. The trouble was, Twelve Fail-Safe Ways To Charm Witches was designed to give you advice about a girl you liked who you'd only just met. The Twelve Ways were an order of steps to follow. The book never said anything about what to do if you met the girl six years ago and had grown up together as best mates. It didn't advise about girls who knew your family, spent Summers at your house, and knew nearly everything there was to know about you.
Twelve Fail-Safe Ways To Charm Witches gave tips on introductions and conversation-starters. The last thing Ron needed were tips on how to talk to Hermione. If anything, they had too much to discuss. When Hermione arrived tomorrow morning, Mum would fuss and everybody else would be in the way. And Ron knew that what he would actually need to do tomorrow was get Hermione alone to make sure she was okay after what she was doing to her parents. They needed to discuss Hermione's plan for the next couple of weeks until the wedding was out of the way. And he had to talk to her about what they'd do after that (because of course Hermione would have a plan for that too). And he needed to be alone with her so they could joke and laugh and talk. Just be. Sometimes Ron could think of a million things he loved about Hermione, and sometimes he couldn't think of anything specific at all- just the overall Hermione-ish-ness of her and that she was. Twelve Fail-Safe Ways To Charm Witches didn't have any advice for when you felt that way.
It didn't help having Bill and Fleur around, slobbering and groping each other every chance they got. Ron reckoned he'd heard Bill mention that they'd bought a house somewhere, and he hoped that that meant they'd move in after the wedding. Fleur was still mesmerising to look at, and sometimes when Ron was sitting opposite her at breakfast he couldn't help gaping so much that his spoon missed his mouth. But Harry had been right- you got used to her being around and being beautiful.
They weren't the only Order item now. After that bizaare argument in the hospital wing, it turned out Lupin and Tonks had got back together and were getting married soon. As in, in the next few days soon. Mum had scurried Ron and the twins away to tell them. Ron didn't understand that because it wasn't a secret, was it? But stuff with Lupin and Tonks was strangely secretive.
"Funny about Tonks and Lupin getting married, isn't it?" he wondered aloud.
Ginny nodded.
"Mum was thrilled when she told us, even though it makes her theory that Bill and Fleur are too fast look daft," Ron shrugged.
"I don't think it's daft. It's sweet. She's mad about him, and I reckon he must be too even though he's such a closed book,"
"Did you know even know that they were a thing?" Ron asked, craning his neck to look at her.
"Erm. Sort of,"
"What d'you mean?"
"She didn't tell me but you could work it out,"
"How?"
"She was miserable all year. Didn't you notice?"
"Obviously I noticed!" said Ron defensively, "But that could have been about anything! I thought she was depressed about Sirius dying,"
"She was. And then things ended with Lupin. I don't know what happened, but I'm sure it was him who finished it. He probably panicked that she'd get hurt because of him,"
"How d'you work that out?"
Ginny turned her face away and looked into the trees. "Men do that type of thing,"
"Gin-"
"It's fine. I'm fine. Don't you dare worry about me, Ron Weasley, because I'm fine," she re-iterated fiercely. Then she softened slightly and relented, "I'm just saying, it's kind of comparable,"
Ron didn't know how to respond to that. Ginny hadn't spoken to him about Harry breaking up with her. That wasn't very surprising. Ron doubted Harry would discuss it either. This was exactly why he hadn't wanted his sister getting involved with his best mate- it had led to awkwardness, bewilderment, fury and sadness. People claimed Ron was emotionally thick, but he'd at least been able to work out that the situation would end up this way.
Ginny evidently didn't want a hug either, so Ron huffed and twiddled his fingers into the overgrown grass. Mum would probably lumber him with mowing it before the wedding. She was already frazzled, so by the time Harry and Charlie and Fleur's parents had arrived, she'd probably have lost the plot entirely. Ron planned to keep out of her way as much as possible, which might be easier once Hermione had been here for a couple of days and Mum had stopped clucking over her.
He glanced at the new watch Mum and Dad had bought him for his birthday. Seventeen hours until Hermione would Floo in (she was always on time for that). Ron smiled. Seventeen hours to go.
"I can't believe they're having a baby," sighed Hermione, leaning against Grimmauld Place's kitchen counter clutching a mug of tea.
"Same," Ron concurred, plonking his own mug on the table and pulling a chair out to sit on, "Those two don't make sense to me,"
It had been a weird day. On top of all the Lupin stuff, Kreacher had turned up with Mundungus Fletcher, and now Ron and his friends had to break into the Ministry of Magic to steal a Horcrux from Professor Umbridge. Plus, according to Remus, Harry was a prime suspect for Dumbledore's murder. And Muggle-borns were being hunted down because supposedly they didn't count anymore. And Lupin had said that the Death Eaters, who are also the Ministry now, smashed up Bill's wedding which must mean that Ron's family will be under some kind of surveillance, and hadn't Lupin said "no deaths"? That was hardly reassuring but apparently that's best-case-scenario now for any room Ron's entire family were in.
"I'm worried about him," Hermione murmured, "He didn't seem…he wasn't himself, wasn't he?"
"Sending a punching spell into Harry's face? Yeah, just a bit!"
Thinking about Remus acting out-of-character and crazy was a good distraction from worrying about everything else.
"Remus is quite fragile, really," Hermione sighed.
"Well, he's ill," Ron reminded her.
"I mean emotionally,"
"Eh?"
"He isn't very well in his mind. I don't mean he's touched in the head," she clarified, seeing Ron's expression, "I mean he's sad. The wizarding world doesn't understand it like Muggles. Muggles have pills they can take for it- my Mum needed them for a while after I was born,"
"She had pills for her mind?"
Hermione nodded. "And Remus is so clever, he must know about things like that,"
"Maybe he doesn't like to dwell on it. I don't reckon he likes to think about romance that much. I mean, Ginny says he did a runner on Tonks last year,"
Ron was certain that the word "romance" had sounded ridiculous coming out of his mouth.
"Poor Remus," Hermione sighed. She gazed down into her mug so forlornly that Ron stood up, crossed the room to her, and slid his arm around her shoulders. He'd been doing that more lately. Most days, to be honest. A few months ago this would have made him feel anxious and flustered. Yes, he hugged Hermione hello and goodbye every term, but they'd always done that. And usually Harry was hanging around too, about to hug them both in the same way. Sometimes Hermione hugged Ron when she was grateful, or when they had survived probable-death-by-Death-Eater. The feelings behind those hugs, at least as far as Ron was concerned, were bewilderment, terror and relief. They were fierce and desperate- more clings than hugs. But in the last few weeks the way Ron hugged Hermione had been comforting and gentle. They were lingering embraces. It felt incredible to be so close to Hermione for so long, but it felt even more incredible to know that he was taking care of her and making her feel better. That Ron could be that for her.
Hermione exhaled deeply and rested her face against Ron's pyjama t-shirt. Ron laid his cheek on top of her frizzy, tickly hair, and they stayed there for a while silently. The longer the moment went on, the more the delicious, frightening, sheepish temptation crept up Ron's spine that now might be the time to choke up the courage to tell Hermione that he was in love with her. They were alone, they weren't busy, and she was in his arms like this. They could have all night, so he could try to explain that he was pretty sure it was love, though he'd fancied her for years. There was a lot he wanted to confess, apologise for, and ask. And maybe, just maybe-
"The baby won't be a werewolf," Hermione announced.
"What?"
"It's an acquired trait, so not in Remus' genes,"
Oh. Right. Tonks and Lupin's baby. Ron cringed. Of course Hermione was thinking about that. Why would she be thinking of anything else?"
"What does that mean?" he asked.
Hermione wriggled away slightly, and propped her chin on Ron's breastbone to look up at him. One of the most frightening things about considering admitting all that stuff to Hermione, was the notion that they might not be the same afterwards. That telling her how he felt about her would ruin things or change things and she wouldn't be his best friend anymore. But now, when Ron had his arms around her shoulders and her face so close to his chest, her expression all swotty and beautiful and Hermione-ish, it felt as if both were possible. It could be normal, natural even, for Hermione to be both his best mate and his girlfriend.
"Genes make you who you are. You inherit them from your parents. That's why Harry looks just like his dad," she explained.
Hermione had a habit of saying stuff like this as if she knew it first-hand, even though she couldn't possibly. She'd never seen Harry's dad! When Hermione borrowed other people's words and cleverness it sounded official and authoritative. When Ron quoted other, smarter people, he just sounded like an moron. Ron remembered how Mum had explained to him about the reason Fred and George were identical, but he knew the science part of it would sound daft in his mouth.
As a compromise which would make him sound that he at least kind of knew some stuff, he said, "Right, and that's why the twins are identical. Because they're made of the same genes,"
"Yes. You can inherit genes for freckles or brown eyes or being a good runner. Remus became a werewolf when he was bitten. It isn't in his genes, so it can't pass on to his baby,"
"Are you sure?"
"Completely. That's is what I mean about his mind," Hermione said forlornly, "He believes the worst about himself,"
"D'you think he'll go back to Tonks?" Ron asked.
"I don't know,"
"Tricky to tell with those two,"
"Remus must be really panicking for him to come here and tell us about the baby. They're usually very private," Hermione murmured.
"Remember when he got all tearful when Harry told us Dumbledore had died? It was so uncomfortable, it felt wrong to be watching him cry,"
Hermione nodded. Then she sighed heavily again, and snuggled back against Ron's chest. He smiled to himself, and pressed his cheek back against the top of her head.
"We'll be out tonight," Bill announced.
"Oh. Where?"
"We're going to the pub with Tonks and Remus. You're welcome to come if you-"
"No, it's fine. I'll stay here," Ron interjected hurriedly.
"Reckoned you'd say that," nodded Bill, "We don't tell them, then,"
"Cheers,"
Bill shrugged in response.
"I mean it. Thank you," Ron insisted. He didn't want anybody knowing what he'd done. Bill had been understanding, but Ron had sensed his disappointment. He deserved it. Merlin's pants, he'd been such an idiot. Selfish, paranoid, angry, impatient, and most of all stupid. He was better at being stupid than he was at being smart, so it was going to be hard work undoing his stupidity and finding Harry and Hermione again. Ron had to think like Hermione, and he didn't know how to do that. Yes, I'm staying, Ron. We said we'd go with Harry, we said we'd help. Yes, they had, and if he thought for a moment that Hermione would choose anything else, he didn't know her at all. In better moments, Ron saw Hermione's decision as to stay or leave, and in worse moments he saw it as himself or Harry. Either way, he'd been a moron to assume that Hermione would make any other choice.
"We've all made mistakes," said Bill. He'd said that a few times since Ron arrived here three days ago, and honestly it was annoying. What mistakes had Bill made? Only got an A in Potions OWL? Misread a hieroglyphic? Bought Fleur pansies instead of tulips? Bill's heart was in the right place, but Ron doubted that his charming, clever, handsome big brother, with a cool job and a Veela wife, knew much about stuffing things up.
"How are they, anyway?" Ron asked, changing the subject.
"Oh, you don't know," exclaimed Bill, "Remus and Tonks are having a baby. Due in the Spring, end of April I think," Bill continued.
"Yeah, I, err, knew she was pregnant," muttered Ron, though he'd forgotten about it.
Ron didn't want to mention how he knew this particular piece of information, so he was thankful that Bill just nodded and said, "We'll be leaving about seven and I don't suppose we'll be home too late,"
In three days off-the-run, Ron had learnt that nobody stayed out late or left home early anymore. Nobody fancied a wander after work or a spontaneous catch-up. People went out to their jobs or to the shops, then returned immediately home.
"You're seeing them together?" Ron asked.
"Of course," said Bill, "You can help yourself to yesterday's leftovers,"
"No, I mean Tonks and Lupin will be together?"
"Yeah. Why wouldn't they be?"
"I dunno, I- things are different now," Ron improvised.
"They're living with Tonks' mum. Her dad's Muggle-born so he's left home," Bill explained. The nonchalance in his tone, suggesting that this was commonplace, made Ron grimace.
"Remus, and Tonks, and Tonks' mum, in the same house?" he clarified.
"Yep. Lots of people are doing stuff like that, and it makes sense with her being pregnant and her dad not being here,"
So…they'd got back together? Remus had listened to Harry, or at least changed his mind about Tonks. That was a good thing, right? If Lupin wanted to have the kid- he'd seemed dead scared about it at Grimmauld Place. Kind of cold, too, like he'd detached himself from it. That was very different to being back with his pregnant wife and living with his mother-in-law.
"Are they happy?"
"Nobody's happy at the moment," said Bill, "Tonks lost her job at the Ministry but she's working somewhere else now. Don't know how long that'll last- she's getting pretty big now so you can definitely tell she's expecting. I don't think she likes being pregnant, but she's very excited for when the baby gets here. Remus is scraping around doing whatever odd jobs he can get employed for. Not many, obviously. So they both seem okay,"
"That's good,"
"I always forget he was your teacher," said Bill. If he wanted to believe that that was why Ron was interested, Ron was happy to let him.
"Probably our best one,"
"I can imagine that,"
Lupin, Ron thought, had had a panic and ballsed things up with his wife. And now apparently they were back together and doing okay. But that was Remus, who was cool and eloquent, and an actual adult. Ron was a clueless teenager.
Perhaps, Ron wondered, if they ever got out of this mess Lupin could give him some advice.
She had nightmares. All three of them had experienced bad dreams, in one way or another, for years, but Hermione's nightmares about Bellatrix were even more vivid and violent. During their first night at Shell Cottage, Hermione had woken up screaming, and Ron and Harry had bolted into the bedroom she was staying in. She'd been half-awake and delirious, and Ron had leapt onto the bed to grip her by the shoulders, shake her awake, and tell her that she was safe with him at Shell Cottage. Harry was on his knees by the bed, gripping the duvet and pushing his face against his fists, muttering to Hermione that he was sorry, it was all his fault and he was sorry. Ron didn't consider himself a sentimental person, but there in the dark with one best friend quaking and shivering against his hands, and the other best friend choking out apologies, Ron had felt his brain flick through memories of the last six years. Everything the three of them had gone through together. Plenty of it was exciting and dangerous, but to be honest most of his memories were of the three of them walking to lessons together, working on homework or hanging around the Common Room. And look at them now.
Once they'd all calmed down, Harry had seemed to know that Ron would handle it from here, so Harry had slunk back to his room while Ron climbed into Hermione's bed. If somebody had told him the day before that he'd soon be in bed with Hermione, Ron would have exploded with nerves. But he didn't feel any of that. It felt right, it was just something he had to do because he knew it would keep Hermione safe. He knew he made her feel calmer (though Ron's chivalry felt dented by the raging boner he woke up with the next morning. But nobody else needed to know about that). After the first night, they'd ended up in a routine where Ron would stay in a chair beside Hermione's bed until either one of them fell asleep. If Hermione nodded off first, Ron would stay a while longer to make sure she was breathing rhythmically and calmly, before slinking back to the room he was sharing with Harry. When Ron fell asleep first, nodding off in the wicker chair by Hermione's bedside, he'd wake up half an hour or so later. Sometimes Hermione would also be asleep by then, or else she'd be quiet and still enough that Ron felt okay about going to his own bed.
"It's for your comfort as well as hers, isn't it?" Luna had mused one night when Ron had met her in the corridor on his way back to bed, and had to explain to her what he was doing in Hermione's bedroom in the middle of the night.
Tonight, Ron was wine-woozy, but of course Hermione wanted to natter about Remus' baby.
"...just lovely, isn't it? He's so happy," she was saying, "It's been months since anything good's happened,"
"Yeah,"
"I'm thrilled for Harry, although I don't suppose he's used to babies,"
"No,"
"He's sweet with the younger years at school,"
"Hmm,"
"Though eleven is different to baby, isn't it?"
"When do you think we'll meet Teddy, Hermione?" Ron interrupted.
She jolted. "Oh. I don't know,"
It didn't seem like nearly nine months since Bill's wedding, so it was hard to imagine that Tonks had been growing a baby the whole time they'd been away.
"Maybe not for a while," Ron suggested. Inamongst Lupin's barely-contained bliss, he hadn't asked what Ron, Harry and Hermione were even doing at Shell Cottage, though before he'd left he'd promised not to tell anybody they were here. Ron assumed that Tonks was discounted from "anybody". Harry and Hermione would be, if Ron knew that kind of secret.
"No," agreed Hermione, brushing her hand against his arm. The contact still made his skin prickle, but was now also comfortably familiar. Weird.
"What about you? Do you like babies?" he asked.
Hermione shrugged, "Sometimes they're cute, sometimes they're boring,"
"You can't argue with a baby," Ron joked. Hermione needed information. It could be from books, or people, or observing what was happening around her, but she needed data. Babies didn't give data. Well, Baby Hermione probably did. Hermione was likely toddling around spurting facts about Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration. In the dopey Witch Weekly stories Ron had read on the sofa when he was ill as a small boy, witches and wizards thought it was sweet, or endearing, or deep or something, to imagine what the person they loved was like as a child. To Ron, it sounded hilarious. A baby with puffy hair and Hermione's I-know-best expression, buried behind a library book.
"Ron? Ron, what's so funny?"
Mum wasn't going to the funeral. She was drained from Fred's, two days ago, and she insisted that Andromeda couldn't miss her own daughter's funeral to look after the baby. So Andromeda had dropped Teddy off at the Burrow this morning. Poor kid hadn't been feeding well, apparently. The Burrow didn't have any baby potions or ingredients to make them with, so Hermione had offered to buy some sort of fake Muggle milk from the village. Ron had gone with her, because home felt miserable and claustrophobic today. He hadn't predicted After to be like this. He hadn't considered After much at all. After had been more of a hope than an actual concept, so it felt bamboozling that the future was now the present. It was different to what Ron had expected it to be, because everything was still mental, everyone was busy, things were still changing and it wasn't as if It Was Over.
After meant After Fred, too. Ron's family was missing a piece. George was missing his….not even his other half, his whole. The twins were a unit- even as their brother, Ron rarely bothered to differentiate them. Had rarely bothered. He felt outraged when Mum and Dad and everyone talked normally, as if Fred hadn't just died, but he felt outraged and terrified at the thought of Mum and Dad changing too.
Wordlessly, Ron and Hermione had joined hands as they trudged down the hill. They'd been doing that all the time for the last few days, and they were hugging more than ever. They hadn't Talked About It yet, which was unsurprising given that it had been sadness and craziness and funerals all week. It was also wildly frustrating and disconcerting, because their kiss (her kiss, she'd been the one to chuck herself at him) was fading further into the background.
"What are we buying?" Ron asked.
"Formula. It's baby milk for Muggles who don't want to breastfeed, or can't,"
Breastfeed, Ron was certain, was the worst word in the world.
"Made from….?" he asked.
"Powder,"
"And you reckon that's what Teddy needs?"
"I reckon he misses his mum," murmured Hermione, "D'you think he can tell that they're gone?"
"He definitely knows something's wrong,"
"Mmm,"
"Maybe he's scared. Or confused. But because he's a baby he doesn't know he's scared and confused, he just knows he feels wrong,"
Teddy didn't know what was going on, let alone understand it. He just knew, in a weird baby way, that everything had changed and everything was bad and the two people who had looked after him weren't looking after him anymore.
"D'you remember when Remus turned up in Grimmauld Place and was arguing with Harry, Harry said parents shouldn't leave their kids unless they really have to," Ron recalled.
"Harry's mum and dad stayed," whispered Hermione, "We saw the house. They died because they stayed, and Tonks and Remus died because they left,"
"It was different. Voldemort came for Harry's parents. They weren't going to leg it and ditch him there, were they? Tonks and Remus was different, it was a battle. He had to,"
Remus was in the Order of the Phoenix, same as Fred, as all of them. And they all had to fight.
"What about Tonks?" said Hermione.
"What about her?"
"You said he had to. Do you think it's different for Tonks?"
Ron suspected he'd walked into one of the "Are You Being Sexist?!" traps Hermione and Ginny were fond of setting.
"Dunno," he answered vaguely, "Sort of. She promised Remus she was staying home with Teddy,"
"He died thinking she was safe," Hermione whispered.
"That's good,"
"Why?"
"Better for him to think that Teddy was at least going to have his mum around,"
It was like Hermione wiping her parents' memories and packing them off to Australia to avoid them hearing that something terrible had happened to her, Ron thought. Though he didn't say it out loud. They hadn't even spoken about finding Hermione's parents to bring them home to their real life. It might not happen for ages- now was hardly the time for them to be arranging a search mission to the other side of the world. For them- as in Ron would be going with her. He didn't know why he assumed that, he just thought- well, knew, that he would. She'd need him. Hermione, thought Ron proudly, would always need him.
And, Ron realised, as they tramped through the grass towards the village to buy Muggle powder milk before a baby's parent's funeral, she always had.
Thank you for reading. Huge thank you to FloreatCastellum for kindly letting me use the dialogue in her story Safe for the opening scene of this fic (and for your continued support and sharing of this story!).
If you like this story, please also check out my new fic, Steam.
