CH 72: Trusting Gut Intuition

The days were starting to get warmer, and the wildflowers they had planted for Fi were finally starting to grow in the back garden. Ron and Hugo had also been working on the Dennis' rose garden, which was blooming nicely. Once done there, they also had to keep up the garden at Hermione's house. Ron had decided that maintaining two muggle yards was not for the faint of heart. And when Michael called and asked him to lend a hand in his as well, he was almost ready to throw in the towel. But, Harry had saved the day and helped him learn a few charms he used to keep the weeding under control but not so much that the neighbors were asking questions.

With it being late June, Ron's work at the Auror Academy was slowing down, and the work with students at Hogwarts had more or less ended while students revised for end of year exams. Ron was enjoying his time working with George, but he was really enjoying taking advantage of the long, sunny evenings near the summer solstice. Some nights the three of them would eat out in the garden and then Hermione would read in a chair on the patio while he and Hugo worked in the yard. But, on the nights Hermione worked late he and Hugo would snag some sandwiches and apparate out to the countryside where they could fly for a few hours and enjoy the outdoors. Sometimes Hugo would bring along a sketch book to draw in or a book for them to read together outside, but most of the time they would just fly, letting the air fill their lungs as they sped along rolling hills, patchwork fields or crashing waves.

Those nights flying with his son were his favorite. The first time he had heard that phrase he almost cried. He had been with some folks at the Auror Academy, at they were heading to a pub for drinks. Ron bowed out saying he was looking forward to flying with Hugo that night as Hermione was working late. One of the older professors nodded understandingly. "I remember doing that with my Jacob. Some of my best memories. You're right not to miss it. Enjoy your time flying with your son tonight. It just doesn't get much better than that."

"Thanks," he'd managed, working to hide his suddenly wet eyes. "I will."

Since then, he'd had an even greater appreciation for their evenings together. While he was excited to see Rose in a few weeks, he really did love his one on one time with Hugo too. And now that life finally seemed to have leveled off to a normal place, he realized it was only one more year until Hugo went off to Hogwarts. And the lump in his throat at the thought of it urged him to take advantage of every evening with Hugo he could. They'd flown last night, but this evening they had other plans.

Ron worked that day at WWW, but wrapped up around 3 so that he could fetch Hugo from school. They planned to take sandwiches over to the Care Home that night for their regular card game with Mrs. Carrington, so Hermione had asked them to pull everything together since she wouldn't be home til after 530. When she finally came in at 545 she was toeing off her heels at the door and running upstairs to change yelling her apologies for being late as she did. Ron and Hugo laughed, just shaking their heads as she blew like a whirlwind in one door and out another. But soon the three were off in the car and headed to see their friend.

When they arrived at the home, they all decided that the weather was nice enough that they could eat and play cards out on the patio. Hugo and Ron went to claim a table while Hermione rolled the older woman out in her chair, chatting as they went.

"Sorry I couldn't make it last time the boys came," Hermione apologized. "I am transitioning from one job to another, but somehow that seems to be meaning long evenings at times helping my old boss since my replacement won't start until August."

"That's perfectly alright dear," the old woman said. "I love that you come at all. And I certainly can't complain about being visited by handsome young men. Even if that husband of yours keeps beating me at chess. I will win one of these days, though. I promise you that."

"You're a braver woman than I am," chuckled Hermione. "I played him a few times and realized it would never happen for me, so I have written it off altogether."

"I used to play a lot of chess when I was younger, but I guess fell out of habit. But your Ron has lit the fire in me again. And I am telling you, I will not leave this earth before I get him."

"Good luck with that," Hermione said sarcastically. "You may whip him at all kinds of card games, but I don't know that anyone has beaten him at chess since he was eleven or twelve. Sort of his thing."

"What if it's my thing too? Just because he is young and handsome and not yet beaten doesn't mean I won't be the one to do it," Mrs. Carrington crooned, which made Hermione grin as she reached the patio door.

The four of them nibbled on sandwiches and biscuits while Mrs. Carrington beat them at cards. Since it was still early, Hermione helped Hugo with his homework while Ron beat Mrs. Carrington at chess. The first time they played Ron could tell she was a good player who was out of practice. She was definitely getting back in the swing of things and was proving to be a formidable opponent. But Ron was still swiftly defeating her each time. He chuckled as he listened to her trash talk as he wheeled her back to her room at the end of the evening.

"I'm telling you, I will not die before I beat you," she insisted.

"Well, that's good, because I would like you around for a very long, long time," he said smoothly, causing her to laugh and playfully smack him on the arm.

Late that night as they were going to sleep, Ron pulled Hermione in close to him under the covers, causing her to sigh contentedly at his touch. He kissed her neck and said, "I never got to ask you how your day was."

"Good," she said trying not be distracted by his lips which were now on her ear. "I really like the new work and am learning a lot. I think it will be better by the fall once the new solicitors come on board with Nic. But even though I'm working long hours, I am really enjoying it."

"Good," he said, moving his lips to the top of her spine.

"How about you?" she asked with a smirk. "I mean, aside from being randy as a teenage boy and beating old women at chess, what else is going on?"

She felt him chuckle and grin against her skin. "Think you're so clever, do you? I'm brilliant, actually. Two of my three jobs are hitting their summer lul, and we are getting ready for the summer rush at the shop. And I am loving my evenings with Hugo. But now that I have a little more free time I thought I'd loop back around to a little project I've been thinking about but never had time to work on."

"And what, pray tell, might that be?"

"Really want to know or keep it a surprise if I pull it off?"

"Is it about me?"

"No."

"Then I want to know."

"Ok. Well, it's about Mrs. Carrington, actually. I just have this feeling that there is something else there. No reason to think it, but back when I worked as an auror trusting my gut served me well. So, I thought I would dig into her background a little bit and see what I can find. I would love to be able to locate a long lost niece or nephew for her or something. Just seems so sad to have this wonderful woman all alone. And if I were her long lost family member, I would want to know she existed. So, I thought I would see what I could learn."

"Muggle detective work?"

"Maybe. Or maybe," he gave a fake gasp, "I'll even visit a muggle library!"

She grinned and rolled over. "See, when you say things like that I just can't resist you," she laughed as she crushed her lips to his while reaching for his waistband.

"Blimey," he stuttered when she came up for air. "I'll have to find reasons to visit muggle libraries more often!"

The next week after dropping Hugo at school, Ron headed to The Ministry to see if he could connect with the muggle police liaisons from the auror department. He ran into Harry in the hall who, when he discovered why Ron was there, apologized profusely for having forgotten to follow up on their conversation from earlier in the spring.

"No worries, Harry. If it had been urgent, I would have asked you again. But it is just one of those little things that keeps niggling away at me. I don't know that there is anything there, but I just want to check it out. I have a few weeks between the auror academy work and the kids being out for summer holidays, so I thought it was a good time to see what I can find."

"Alright. Absolutely. You know who would be good to help you? Coppedge. Matthew Coppedge. He is a great guy – a squib on the London police force who does a lot of work with us. Here let me jot down his contact info. He probably knows who you are, but he's a bit younger than us – so if you get a blank stare, just tell him I sent you."

"Great. Thanks, Harry. You know how I love it when I have to drop your name to get in places. It means blessed anonymity," Ron grinned.

"Well, don't count on it. But he's a good bloke. His dad's a muggle, mum's a witch. I think she was the same year as Charlie – a Ravenclaw maybe? Anyway – some of his siblings were at Hogwarts with Teddy, which is how I met him initially. Nice family, smart kid."

"Cheers. I'm off."

After apparating to an alley near the London address, Ron made his way through the maze of the police station to locate the right department.

"Morning. Could you help me find Matthew Coppedge please?" Ron asked of the burly police man at the front desk.

Giving Ron an unimpressed look, he turned around in his swivel chair and yelled, "MATTIE! Visitor for yeh."

At that, a young man came out from an office door making his way up and then saw Ron.

"Holy shite. Ron Weasely," the man said quietly more to himself than to Ron. Recovering, he stammered, "Uh, hello, won't you come back to my office?"

Ron nodded at him and followed him down the hall and into a crammed office where he shut the door behind them.

"Mr. Weasley, it is a great honor to meet you, sir."

"Please call me Ron. Harry gave me your name-"

"Head Auror Potter? Yes, we've been able to work on a number of cases together. While I know you and I have never met, I have followed your work for years. It's quite an honor, sir. The detective work you were able to accomplish on that potions and immigration case last year, well, it was tremendous."

"Thanks," smiled Ron. "That was my last case. I lost my partner in a car crash and had to solve that last case for her before I could let it go. But, I haven't been in the field since then."

"I heard that. I am so sorry about Auror Creevey. She was incredible as well. And I am sorry to hear that you retired."

"Well, thanks. I'm working at the academy and with some Hogwarts students now trying to help train people to jump in front of spells instead of jumping in front of them myself. Easier on the family that way."

"Yes, well, rumors do run about you. But, I had heard you had stepped in to raise your partner's son and then had managed to meet Hermione Granger."

"You know Hermione?"

"No, not personally – I only know of her. She is a legend in her own right amongst muggles – especially the officers who work in immigration. Brilliant, brilliant woman."

"Yes, well, I quite agree since I married her," laughed Ron, holding up his ring finger.

"Congratulations! That's brilliant," the young man said. "But, as exciting as that is I am guessing you didn't hunt down a random squib detective to brag about your brilliant bride."

"This is true," nodded Ron. "Through a random series of events I have met an older muggle woman who seems to have no living family. I just have this gut sense that there is more to her story, and as my gut sense has been right so many times before, I thought I would try to poke around and see what I could find out. But, my muggle research skills aren't too keen, so I asked Harry who might be a good person to talk to, and he sent me to you."

"Sure. I am happy to help out. What do you know about her?"

Ron told him the tale of how they had met, and the friendship they had struck up with the few details he knew like the names of her late husband and son as well as what she had mentioned about her late husband's family during the war.

"Carrington is ringing a bell for me too," nodded Coppedge, "but I can't quite place it. Can you give me a few days to see what I can find?"

"Absolutely!" said Ron. "Like I said. Nothing urgent – just one of those niggling feelings I can't shake. Let me jot down my mobile number for you, and you can give me a ring if you find anything."

"Impressed. Not too many aurors have mobile numbers," he laughed.

"Well, when I suddenly had to step into a muggle world to raise Hugo, I learned a whole lot real fast."

"I remember when I had to learn the muggle world in a hurry," nodded Coppedge knowingly. "Overwhelming to say the least."

"Yes. But good. I have certainly learned to love my cell phone," admitted Ron.

"Don't we all," confessed the young man.

They said their goodbyes with the young detective promising to call soon. Ron hadn't even made it home when his phone rang.

"Mr. Weasley? It's Matt Coppedge. I found something. Um, I think it best you come back in the office so I can give you what I have."

With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Ron headed back the way he came. Soon he was back in the cramped office, and Coppedge had a file folder of copied papers for him.

"I knew the name was familiar. It only took a quick search to pull up why. I – well – this isn't going to be easy," he stammered.

"Did someone hurt her? Just tell me." Ron said in the gruff auror voice he realized he hadn't heard from himself in quite a while.

"No. Well – you're auror instinct was right. There is a lot there. It's just rather more personal than I think you could possibly be expecting. I'm really sorry. Here." With that, the nervous young man slid the file folder across the table to Ron, who flipped open the top folder. He glanced through the newspaper article on the top of the stack. He scanned it, blood draining from his face.

"I don't – I don't understand," he stammered as he shook his head frantically.

"Aldren Carrington was her son."

"No. No. It can't possibly – you can't mean…."

"I'm sorry. I really am. But that's her son."

"Uh, I have to go," muttered Ron as he stood up. "Can I apparate from here?"

The young man nodded but said, "Yes, but I don't think that you're in any shape-" But his concern was cut off with the crack of apparition, Ron having vanished in front of his eyes. The young man sighed, and dashed off a note to Head Auror Potter to let him know what happened.

Ron landed on the sandy cliffs next to Shell Cottage, the tears rolling down his face before he could even catch his balance. He gruffly ran his hand across his cheek to wipe them away, as he made his way to the porch where he could sit in a rocker overlooking the sea. He sat into the creaking rocker, closing his eyes and leaning back against the cottage wall as he took a deep breath. Instead of letting it out slowly and quietly, he let the frustration spew forth from him screaming, "FFUUCCKK." "FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK." He let the wind over the ocean absorb his curses and shouts, and taking another breath, he tried to clear his mind to read each and every page in the folder Coppedge had given him. The words were blurred by his tear filled eyes, but he finally finished the whole folder and then closed his eyes to absorb it all. He wished he had his broom so he could let the air blow everything off him. But he didn't, so he just sat and rocked there in the wind at the edge of the sea. He had lost track of time, and he jumped at the buzzing of his phone in his pocket. When he glanced at the caller information, it was Hugo's school. "Fuck," he said again, realizing he had missed the pick-up time.

"Hello," he answered.

"Ron, hello this is Mrs. Rupesmith, Hugo's art teacher at school."

"Hi, Mrs. Rupesmith. I am so, so sorry. I just realized the time. I am terribly late to pick up Hugo. I got caught up in something today and completely lost track of the time."

"No worries, Ron. It's ok. I know this is a rarity, which is why I wanted to call and be sure you were alright."

"Yes, yes. I'm fine. But I'm still a ways out from the school."

"Well, I am headed over to the art center. Would it be alright if I took Hugo with me? I could use an assistant for my class this evening. It's with kindergarteners. I could use all the help I can get."

"Um, yeah, if he wants to. Could I talk with him a moment? Is he there?"

"Oh, yes. Hang on, here he is."

"Ron?"

"Hey, Hugo. I am sooo sorry. I lost track of time this afternoon. Do you want me to come get you or do you want to go with Mrs. Rupesmith and help her with her class this evening?"

"Well, you'll still owe me. But I would love to go help her with her class. Can I?"

"Of course, buddy. Of course. What time should I pick you up? Can you ask her?"

"Hang on….Ron, she says she'll just drop me home after if that's ok. Please? Pretty please?"

"Sure, Hugo. You know very well I am in position to bargain."

"So true, Ron. So true. But letting me help out tonight is a good start."

Run chuckled into the phone. "Alright, Hugo. Have fun. Tell Mrs. Rupesmith thank you for me and that I owe her too. I'll see you at home."

"Bye, Ron."

"Bye, wingman. I love you."

"Love you too."

With that the phone clicked, and Ron stared at the screen in silence as the tears flowed again.

"What the fuck do I do now?" he muttered into the wind.

He shrunk the folder and its contents down, storing it in his pocket and then walked over to visit Dobby's grave.

He took off his socks and shoes, tugging the cotton sock off his pale foot. It came off inside out, and he stood there shoving his hand inside the sweaty sock to turn it right side out before placing it on Dobby's grave. "What do I do, Dobby? What is the right thing? I knew there was something, but I thought it was something good. All this can do is add pain. And I don't want to add pain, there's been too much already. But I don't know that I can forget." He stood there watching the wind whip the grasses. Sighing, he simply touched Dobby's headstone and headed out.

Hermione walked in the front door at 530, toeing her heels off into the pile by the door. The house seemed quiet so she called out, "Ron? Hugo?"

Not hearing an answer, she headed upstairs to change clothes. Looking out their bedroom window, she saw Ron in the back garden, shirt off, drenched in sweat, digging furiously around the back of the garage. She put on grubby work clothes and headed out to join him.

"Hello, handsome," she said with a smile as she came out bringing him cold pumpkin juice.

"Hey," he said, smiling at her and taking the cool drink gratefully.

"Where's Hugo?"

"Uh, he's helping Mrs. Rupesmith teach a kindergarten class at the art center this evening. I messed up this afternoon and was late to get him. She had called and asked if he could go with her as she could use the help, and he said he wanted to. She's dropping him by when they're done. He seemed pretty thrilled to be asked."

"I bet. You ok? What happened? You've never missed pick up like that."

"Oh, yeah. I just screwed up. I was helping Harry look into something and then got distracted, and then I decided to come back here and put this garden bed in. You know, we have all of this sun here in the yard but we aren't growing any vegetables – only flowers. So, I've been meaning to do it."

"Ok," said Hermione, confused but trying not to show her feelings. "I thought you were wanting less yard work, not more."

"Well, since Harry taught me those charms it's been a lot easier."

"Wouldn't it be easier to dig this hole with those charms?"

"Oh. Uh. Yeah. Probably. But it's a good work out."

"You smell like a skunk, but you look hotter than hell," she teased.

"Yeah?" he said cheekily, flexing his biceps.

"Yeah," she said. "You are totally taking a shower before I kiss you. But, do you need help digging? I may not be a master landscaper, but I can handle a shovel to dig a hole."

"If you want," shrugged Ron. "I was just digging out this area here that gets the morning sun so we could do vegetables."

"Where are the vegetable plants? It seems rather late for seeds."

"Oh. Yeah, it was more a spur of the moment decision, so I don't have them yet."

"Alright," she said, sensing there was more to it than he wanted to talk about, so she started digging.

They kept at it until they had a large enough space for vegetables. Realizing how late it was, Hermione ordered a pizza to be delivered while Ron jumped into the shower. Mrs. Rupesmith dropped Hugo round, and Hermione thanked her profusely for her help. But she insisted he was so helpful that she was hoping he would help her for the next 5 weeks with the same class. Seeing how Hugo was beaming with pride, Hermione couldn't argue with it. Hugo simply raved about how much he'd enjoyed it and was still raving when Ron came down from the shower. Hermione took her turn getting cleaned up, and the three of them had some quick pizza, still listening to Hugo natter away about his night.

Hermione offered to clean everything up while Ron put Hugo to bed. When Ron still hadn't come down after an hour, she turned off the lights and headed up to bed. She poked her head into Hugo's room and saw Ron fast asleep, arms tightly wrapped around a sleeping Hugo as if protecting him in his sleep.

The sight caused mixed emotions in Hermione. First she was struck by what a special image of the two boys she loved so much it was. But, something was going on that Ron was not telling her: forgetting to pick up Hugo; randomly digging holes in the yard that he already complained about having to keep up; and then falling asleep clinging to Hugo like his life depended on it. She didn't know whether to be more concerned or angry about it all. They hadn't even been married four months yet, so it seemed a bit early to be hitting marital struggles. She felt the tension rise in her and had to intentionally take some deep breaths to release it. She knew he loved her. She knew he wouldn't exclude her. She just had to give him the benefit of the doubt and ask him straight out tomorrow. She walked over to the small bed where Ron and Hugo were sleeping, kissing them both and covering Ron with a light blanket before shutting out the light and heading to bed.

The next morning Hermione was up early, having not slept well without Ron's light snores next to her. She got up and had breakfast waiting for the boys when they made their way downstairs.

"Morning you two," she said with an attempt at normal chipperness. "I must say, you two looked pretty cute last night when I came looking to see why Ron never came back downstairs."

"Sorry," Ron said sheepishly, taking the tea from her gratefully. "I think all that yardwork tired me out more than I had thought, and I just zonked out."

"That's ok," she said kissing his stubbly cheek. "I missed you though. I hadn't realized how hard it is to sleep without you there."

"I'm sorry, love," he said earnestly. "I really didn't mean to do that."

"It's alright, Ron. You fell asleep. Hugo, were you able to sleep with Ron's snores in your ear?"

"Yeah," Hugo said. "I got used to Ron's snores when he slept on my floor all those months. I kinda like it even if that sounds weird."

"Not weird to me. I like it too," she laughed.

The family had their pancakes with syrup, which Ron dramatically licked off the plate. Hugo went up to get ready for school while Ron washed the dishes.

"Ron, any chance you are free for lunch today?"

"Uh, I don't think I can today," Ron said feeling a rush of guilt go through his system. "I have to check in with Harry on some things this morning and then help George out. With the Hogwarts students out in two weeks, we're gearing up for one of our busiest times of year aside from Christmas and back to school shopping."

"OK," said Hermione sadly, frustrated at his overly-detailed excuse. "Just thought I'd take a shot. It's been a while since we've had a meal just the two of us."

"I miss that too," he said honestly. "Maybe this weekend we could do that. Today just isn't a good day."

"Alright. Sounds like you're busy all day. How about I take Hugo to school and pick him up this evening?"

"Oh. Uh. Ok. That's great, thanks."

"Well, I'm going to go get dressed. See you tonight?"

"Right. Tonight," she said as he kissed her quickly on the cheek.

Her heart broke a little feeling like he was lying to her, but she tried to squelch it down and remind herself that she trusted him and loved him.

As soon as Hermione and Hugo left, Ron headed to catch Harry at the Ministry. Harry's secretary was back to being rude to Ron again, so at least that felt normal. But, she let him wait in Harry's office anyway. After about twenty minutes of pacing, Ron was relieved when Harry came in.

"Hiya Harry."

"Morning. How are you?"

"Well, I learned some shite yesterday."

"I heard. Coppedge was worried about you when you left and sent me a note telling me what happened. How did Hermione take it?"

"I couldn't tell her," he said, his voice cracking as he ran his hands through his hair.

"What?"

"I couldn't do it, Harry. I left there and went to Shell Cottage. And, fuck, it's just so damn painful. And I wish I didn't know. Because it doesn't change anything. It just adds this fucking layer of shite to muck through to get back to the good stuff. And I love her too much to dump that on her."

"Ron, mate, I know she's your wife, so it shouldn't be my business. But, I think you should tell her. She's gonna know something is up. And trust me when I say that whatever she thinks you are keeping from her will be way worse for you."

"Worse?! How can it get fucking worse that this?"

"No, I don't mean worse information. But she is going to come up with some idea of why you are acting weird or upset or whatever and that is going to be worse that trying to keep her from learning something painful."

"I dunno mate. I don't think I can fucking do this to her. To either of them."

Harry looked at him, trying to peer into those blue eyes that seemed to hold so much pain. "Can I do anything? Anything at all?"

"No. None of us can, can we? It's done. It's happened. And there is nothing anyone can do. And knowing this or not knowing this doesn't change any of that. Just makes it hurt more."

"I'm really sorry, Ron. Really."

"I know. And I appreciate it. Alright. I'm going to go to the shop. We've got some things to finish pulling together before the students get out."

"Yeah, yeah. Alright. Tell George hello for me. And let me know if you need anything. And, really – think about telling Hermione. Trust me on this one. I know I'm married to your sister, but I still have a little more marriage experience under my belt than you do."

"Can't do it, mate. But thanks," Ron said as he headed out.

Hermione was sitting in her office mindlessly tapping her pen against the desk as she tried to force herself to pay attention to the webinar on the computer screen. A faceless voice was speaking out over the phone line about the legal tax structures of various philanthropic organizations in different EU countries and how Brexit may or may not impact the existing organizations operating throughout Britain and the EU countries across the channel. While the sincere legal voice droned on about potential impacts of evolving tax law in the United States Hermione couldn't bring herself to even pretend to pay attention.

Instead of watching the various presentation slides on the monitor, she stared at the muggle picture on her desk of her and Ron from their time in Hawaii. The concierge had taken it for them one evening when he'd brought them dinner on the lanai. Once she'd seen it on her phone, she knew it was one of her favorites. Ron was sitting on a deck chair with Hermione on his lap. The ocean was in the background and the soft pink light of sunset was all around them. Her hair was blown away from her face, and she looked happy and perfectly at peace smiling at the camera. Ron, however, was too busy staring at her in utter adoration to even notice the camera. The more Hermione stared at that picture, the more she decided that Ron couldn't be cheating on her or anything like that. She knew he loved her. She knew it in her very soul. But she couldn't figure out what the hell was going on and why he suddenly got weird and quiet and evasive. Could he have rejoined the auror squad and not told her? What else could he possibly be doing with Harry this week at work? And if he was sneaking around without telling her and now putting his life in danger again, well, she couldn't even think about it.

Exasperated, she finally threw her pencil down, muted the sound on her computer to block out the legal lecture broadcasting over the internet and picked up her cell phone to ring up her sister in law.

"Ginny? It's Hermione."

"Hey there, Hermione. How are you? Haven't seen much of you the past few weeks."

"I'm, well, I need a favor."

"Sure. Of course. What's up? Did Ron do something stupid already?"

"No. Ugh. Maybe. Honestly, I don't know. But, I need to find out. If I pick Hugo up after school could I bring him by to have dinner and spend the night at your place?"

"Absolutely. Anything I can help with? He's an idiot. But he loves you more than anything. You know that, right?"

"Yeah," Hermione said quietly as she felt the tears come to her eyes. "I do," she sniffed. "I don't doubt that. But something's going on, and I have to get to the bottom of it or I'll go mad."

"Good. You need to knock some sense into him. I don't know what he's done, but whatever it is you have to nip it quickly. Because he is so in love with you. So, whatever it is, hold on to that, ok?"

"Ok," sniffed Hermione again. "Sorry. I hate that I'm being this weepy wife already. It will be fine. I am sure it's something stupid. I just need to figure it out. I'll bring Hugo through the floo around 5 if that's alright."

"Absolutely. I'll see you then. You'll be fine, Hermione. You both will. I promise."

"Thanks, Ginny."

Ron had made up as many reasons to work late at the shop as he could come up with, but at 6 George finally kicked him out and told him to go home to his family. He stepped through the floo and heard Hermione call out, "I'm in the kitchen." He took a deep breath, let it out slowly and made his way into the kitchen.

"Hey, sorry I'm so late. Where's Hugo?"

"He is spending the night at the Potters. It's just us tonight."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Do you want to go out for dinner? I can go get cleaned up real quick."

"No. Frankly, I want to stay in tonight."

"Tough day?"

"You could say that. I was just worked up over the same stupid problem all day and I was totally distracted by it. Couldn't focus on anything else."

"Sorry it was such a hard day," Ron said moving to stand behind Hermione and moving his hands to her shoulders so he could rub her tight neck and shoulders. "Wish I could help."

"You can, actually."

"Yeah? More neck massage?" he teased.

"No," she sighed, closing her eyes summoning her courage. "You could tell me what the hell is going on that has you hiding something from me."

Ron froze, hands still on her shoulders.

"Chose your words wisely, Ron," she said, suddenly shifting to her solicitor voice and still not looking at him, "because I know something is going on."

"Hermione-"

She turned around to stare into his eyes to see what she could discern. All she saw was pain and fear swirling in his eyes, so she tried to soften her approach. Placing her hand on his chest, she said, "Ron, there is clearly something that is going on that has you worked up or upset or something. You forgot to pick up Hugo yesterday, which you have never ever done. You practically dug a hole to the center of the earth to theoretically add more gardens to tend when you already hate the ones we have, and then you fell asleep with Hugo clinging to him as of your life depended on it. I don't know what has you so spun up." By this point she had tears coming down the side of her face. "And honestly," she sniffed as she wiped her eyes, "I don't know whether I am more angry with you for not sharing whatever it is with me or more hurt by the fact that you clearly don't trust me to know whatever it is that is going on. I'm your wife, Ron."

He had been still and frozen, staring at her as she spoke, and felt the tears burning at his own eyes as she started to cry. His mind was swirling, wrestling between sharing the news with her and yet desperately wanting to protect her as well.

Unable to handle his silence, she grabbed his bright orange WWW robes and jostled him, shocking him into snapping out of his frozen daze. "Say SOMETHING, Ron! Please, for God's sake. What the hell is going on?"

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, shifting his eyes from her gaze. He pressed his forehead down to hers, unconsciously trying to draw strength from her. "I'm sorry." He closed his eyes briefly, and tears silently rolled down.

"The absolute last thing I wanted to do was hurt you or exclude you or make you feel cut out. I love you. More than anything. Absolutely anything." He got quiet, trying to figure out where to go next.

"Then why did you lie yesterday? I don't want us to get good at casually lying to each other, Ron. Marriages like that don't make it. And we have to make it, Ron. I love you too much to not make it."

"I'm so sorry," he gasped, pulling her tighter to his chest.

"What happened yesterday?"

"I honestly did go to see Harry," he started quietly. "I know I made it sound like that was all day. It wasn't. But I didn't know what to do."

He stared at the floor, and she let the silence hang heavily between them until he finally continued.

"I had told you a while back I wanted to see what I could learn about Mrs. Carrington. Do you remember that?"

She nodded but said nothing.

"Well, I went to see Harry in the morning to see if he could point me to a contact in the muggle police, which he did. I went over to a muggle police department in London and met up with a squib who works there. I told him what I was looking for, and he called not 20 minutes after I'd left to tell me what he'd found. And…"

His voice faded, still wrestling with where to go and how to navigate this while somehow protecting her.

"And?" she finally said.

He sighed. "And, I learned something awful. So awful that I apparated directly from the police office to Shell Cottage. I didn't know what to do. I was sobbing and yelling and furious and sad, and that is where I go to feel safe, I suppose - to find my way a bit. And I was there the rest of the day lost in my thoughts until Mrs. Rupesmith called reminding me I had forgotten our son at school. And then she offered to take him to that class, and I came home still upset and now feeling guilty for forgetting him and I just had to burn it off. And digging a hole – like Harry did for Dobby. Well, it seemed right. So I just started digging. And then I lied about the stupid vegetables. You're right. I don't want to keep up some stupid vegetable garden. I just needed to sweat out my frustration. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have lied to you. I just felt so stupid. And I didn't know how to handle it."

"You could have just told me the truth."

"I should have. But, the thing is, Hermione. It's – it's bad. I knew if you realized I knew something you would want to know what it was. And as much as I hate what I now know, I really don't want you to have to know it too."

"You don't have to protect me, Ron. I'm a big girl. I'm sure I can handle it."

"I'm not sure I can handle it. And, I'm sorry, Hermione, but I do have to protect you. I have to. You are not just my wife, you are my whole life. You and the kids – you are all that matters to me. I have to protect that. I have to protect you. I don't know how to explain it. I just can't not do it. Protecting the people I love is more than what I do – it's who I am."

"You're my husband, Ron. You are not my father. You don't get to choose what I do and don't know. You can't censor what parts of the world I get to know about. Not that my father gets to do that either, really. I can't imagine that whatever it is you know is so awful I couldn't handle it. I've seen a lot of really awful, terrible things all over this world. I know you were in the war and an auror, but I have held my own in war zones around this world too. You don't get to treat me like a child, Ron. Don't shelter me. I won't have it," she said, he voice getting louder and angrier as she spoke.

"Hermione, you don't…"

"NO RON. You don't. You don't get to decide. You don't get to pick. Remember those little vows we took a few months ago? You don't get to be the filter between me and the world. We promised to respect and trust each other. I take those vows seriously. I assumed you did too. "

"Hermione, of course I took the vows seriously – I DO take those vows seriously. Fuck, you are everything to me."

"Clearly not, Ron. You don't trust me to handle whatever it is you learned about Mrs. Carrington you aren't telling me. I love her too, you know. I care about her, too. Whatever is going on for her, or happened before – I deserve to know too."

"That's not fair-"

"FAIR? FAIR? Fair is expecting your new husband to be truthful. Fair is expecting to be treated as an equal. Don't talk to me about fair."

Ron was churning on the inside. He had to intentionally force his voice almost to whisper so he wouldn't bellow at her with all the frustration, anger and fear that was boiling just under the surface. "Can you just trust me, Hermione? Please? Could you know this is bad and let me just hold this burden for both of us?"

"How can you ask me to trust you when you clearly don't trust me to handle it?" she said, now openly crying. "You talk about fairness and trust and equality, but they're just words, Ron. They are empty words. We promised to face life together from here out. We promised to support each other in things that came our way. I want to be your wife, your equal partner, not your breakable, dainty thing that needs protecting and sheltering. And I want you to be my husband, not my babysitter."

Ron was crying now as well. He began pacing back and forth in the kitchen feeling rather like a caged tiger. "But Hermione, this goes both ways, doesn't it? Doesn't that apply to trusting me too? I know you COULD handle knowing what I learned. Of course you can. You're amazing and can handle anything. But that doesn't mean you should have to do it. And once you know, you can't un-know it. And I would really like you to trust me on this. It will only add pain. It won't help anything."

"It doesn't mean you should have to do it alone either! Wasn't that the whole fucking point of you going with Harry to save the world? He had to do it. You loved him and didn't want him to have to do it alone. He kept trying to push you off for your own good and you wouldn't have it. How is this different? You know what? Don't answer that! I'll tell you. It's not any different at all – not one bit. You are trying to carry all the burden and I am here to tell you I REFUSE TO LEAVE YOU TO CARRY IT ALL ALONE! I love you. I'm here. For all of it. Good and bad. I guess I thought you'd gotten that through your THICK SKULL when I married you, but APPARENTLY NOT!"

By this point, she was also pacing as she ranted through the kitchen, and anyone who happened to have looked on them would have thought they were two caged lions circling each other.

Finally, Ron stopped, stood still and put his face in his hands. "Hermione, this is insane. I love you. I don't want to fight about whether protecting you from pain or trusting you enough to hurt you is the better path. Neither of us can possibly win. Either way we both lose. I love you. My instinct is always to protect you. It will always be to protect you. It's what I do. It's who I am. And I am sorry you are upset by that. If you really, earnestly, honestly want to know what I found out yesterday, I will tell you. But I am warning you – it will hurt. A hell of a lot. And you can't un-know it. And I really don't think you want to have to carry this. I am asking you to please be ok with not knowing. But if you aren't ok with it, of course I will tell you."

She stood still, staring at him. "I love that you want to protect me," she said as she walked over to him, touching his face softly. "I feel safe with you, Ron. And I love that your first instinct is always to keep me and the kids protected from the various dangers out in the world. But keeping me safe from knowing something feels different to me than protecting me from a curse. That doesn't make me feel safe. That makes me feel excluded and babied and belittled. I need to know, Ron. I need to know. I need to know for me, and I need to know to be there for you. Whatever it is, it is clearly something that is incredibly upsetting to you. And I want to be there for you too. I want to share the burden together. We can't face things together if we aren't in it together."

He shook his head back and forth as he felt his lips tighten, trying not to cry again. She didn't move her hand, and she stood there, feeling his tears begin to hit her palm as they spilled from his raw eyes.

"Her son - he killed them," he said, voice breaking into a sob at the end.

"Mrs. Carrington's son? Aldie? He was a murderer?" she asked, brow creased with confusion.

He placed his hand over hers still on his cheek. Suppressing his sobs, he quietly spoke through his tears as best he could. "He was the driver, Hermione. Aldie Carrington was the drunk driver that killed the Creeveys."

As the words hit her, Hermione felt her knees buckle slightly and realized her weight was being supported by Ron's arm around her waist. She shook her head, now leaning against his chest.

"Hermione? Hermione?" Ron said lovingly in a concerned tone. "I'm so sorry. I didn't want you to have to know. I am so sorry. I should never have gone looking for more information. Are you ok? Can you say something?"

"That was her son?" she gasped in a small voice, still not trusting herself to move her face from where it was buried in Ron's chest.

"Yeah," Ron said, nodding gravely. "It was him. Like she said, he'd been a drunk for years. He'd been in and out of prison. He'd been busted for public drunkenness and vagrancy, he'd gotten into bar brawls and he'd robbed a number of places to get money for booze. And he'd had a number of arrests for driving drunk before. He hadn't had a proper license in years. But, yeah, it was him."

"Of all the people in the whole damn world…." she muttered.

"I know. I know. I was just so furious yesterday. I was mad at him for killing them, mad at him for abandoning his mum. All of it. What a rotten excuse of a person. But, then, you know she loved him. And I think about George when he was drunk – just escaping from pain, and it had to have been hard growing up like he did. But he let it overcome him, and in doing so he destroyed so many lives. And part of me wants to be mad at her too, but I can't, so I took it all out on the sodding dirt in the back garden. I am so sorry."

She was still shaking her head back and forth against his chest, somehow trying to tell herself it couldn't be true or maybe shake herself awake from the bad dream. But slowly she started to let the reality of the moment sink in. She felt herself tighten her arms around Ron, holding him closer.

"I hate that it's true, but I am still glad you told me," she finally said. He just nodded, not trusting the lump that had appeared in his throat. After the silence settled around them, she said, "I'll come back to the Carrington situation in a minute. But, please don't ever lie to me again. You can tell me you aren't ready to tell me yet or you need time to figure out what to say or something. But do not lie to me. Ok? Do you understand?"

He leaned his head back so he could look into her eyes. Both of them had red, tear stained faces, but he could see hurt, forgiveness, love and resoluteness in her eyes. Moving his hand so that it cupped her face just as he had during their wedding ceremony he finally said, "Hermione I promise you that I will never make that mistake again. I should never have lied. I was so stupid. And I promise that with the possible exception of presents or surprise parties I will never lie to you again. Ever. In my entire life." She nodded, lips pressed tightly together trying not to cry. Then Ron added nervously, "I don't feel like I have any right to ask for your forgiveness, but I hope that in time my actions will help regain the trust that I have broken."

"Oh Ron," she said in an exasperated voice. "I forgive you. It will take a bit longer to forget. But you are forgiven. And, I believe you when you say you won't do it again. We are figuring out what it means to be married. And we are both going to make mistakes. But you also have to promise me that whenever it is that I do something stupid – you bring it up right away, ok? I mean I know I just about made myself sick with worry today, and it was only about 24 hours. We can't put our marriage through that. It's too young and too inexperienced to be able to handle it yet. We have to work it out and work through it straight away. Ok?"

Ron chuckled. "I can't imagine that you could possibly screw up in the same magnitude, but yeah, I promise. And – thank you – for making us work it out, and for your very much undeserved forgiveness. I am so bloody lucky."

"Ok. Yeah," she laughed. "Usually I tell you it's me that's lucky, but tonight you are right – you are absolutely lucky!"

He kissed her forehead in relief while she tightened her arms around his waist.

"Alright," she said, "But that doesn't solve all the issues here tonight."

He sighed. "Can I poor us some wine for this part of the conversation?"

"Yes please. As twisted and ironic as it is, I think it is in order."

Ron puttered around the kitchen looking for some wine and glasses. As he opened various cabinets he asked, "Do you want to order take out or something or should I throw together some sandwiches too?"

"You do wine. I'll put on some pasta," she said going to find the right pot.

They worked comfortably together in the kitchen, the large weight between them now lifted. Despite the awful news she had just learned about Mrs. Carrington's son, she felt so much more relaxed now that she knew she and Ron were ok. As long as they were ok and in it together, they could work out almost anything. They sat at the kitchen table eating the simple supper they had made. While they still had a hard conversation ahead of them, just the lack of tension in the room had them both smiling.

"So, now back to the Carringtons," Hermione sighed.

"Well," Ron said, trying to swallow the mouthful of spaghetti. "I know I've had about 24 hours more than you to get used to the idea. But, all I keep coming back to is that it is done. Telling Mrs. Carrington or Hugo or Rose doesn't seem to have any purpose to it."

"You're right, but it feels bad, doesn't it?"

"Yeah. It does. But if we told Mrs. Carrington it would make our time with her feel strained, and it wouldn't help her in any way that I can see. If we tell Hugo – well –I still don't see the point."

"Ok. So, we sit on it for now. Did the detective fellow have any other information on possible relatives or anything?"

"Well, not really. He gave me a few more names to try and track down, and he said he'd promise to keep looking and would let me know if he learned anything."

"At least that isn't a total shutout. Although it would be weird to have to share her with some random family wouldn't it?"

"I know," laughed Ron. "I thought about that too. I kind of like her for our own sweet little muggle grandmother."

"Well, she plans to live until she can beat you at chess, so apparently she will be around a while," Hermione teased.

They both laughed and eased into other conversation, edging ever closer to feeling like they were back to themselves again. Eventually they started talking about the summer with Rose home in a few weeks.

"Do you think Hugo will be fine going back in the master bedroom for the summer?" Hermione asked.

"I think so. But I do want to take another vacation as a family if we can. Your work is much more flexible now, and George will be fine with whatever we want to do if I give him enough notice."

"Should we do another relaxing trip like Mallorca or so something more adventuresome and educational this time?" Hermione asked.

"I'm sensing from that question that you already think it should be the second."

"Well, maybe more of a hybrid model. Could we find somewhere to do a bit of both?"

"I am sure we are up the challenge. Did you have anything in mind?"

"Not really," she admitted.

He looked at her with an eyebrow up.

"Honestly, I don't have a place in mind," she said defensively. "But, I do like the idea of being able to connect to some historical place or a book or author or something. It just seems to give some structure and interest to vacations that way," she said sheepishly.

"Ok. Well, let's assume I haven't read any of the muggle books you are thinking of, because we both know I am certainly the least voracious reader in this family. Is there anything the other three of you would have all read and might find fun?

"Hmm. That's an excellent question. I am going to have to think on that one a bit."

"Can I admit something?"

"I would hope so," she scoffed.

"I love it when we read as a family. We did it on Christmas and after my time in hospital. It's not anything I grew up doing with my family, and I really do enjoy it. Obviously I like reading with Hugo in the evenings, but there is something special about the four of us snuggled up together all hearing the same words and envisioning the same story. Maybe we pick a new story to read in the first part of the summer and then incorporate that into our holiday towards the end."

"I love that idea," she said earnestly. "And I love even more that you love reading as a family. I love it too."

He just smiled, and flicked his wand to take their dishes up to the sink.

"But I was wondering something…."

"What?"

"Well, as much as I loved that villa in Mallorca last year and it was absolutely what we needed at the time, maybe we should do something a little more low-budget this year." She paused to try and read his facial expression, but couldn't make out what he thought so she kept talking. "I don't want them to think its normal to rent villas along the Mediterranean or stay at fancy resorts all of the time. I want those things to stay rare enough that they are special, you know?"

After a moment of silence, Ron finally said in a mixture of surprise and embarrassment, "You're right. I – I hadn't even realized that is what we were sort of doing. But, you are absolutely right. I had always said I didn't want my children to have so much that they couldn't appreciate it. And you are right."

"I think we are still a long, long way from having spoiled children. But, I think it is easy to slip into thinking of our summer vacation as a special time with the kids so we start confusing special with pricey. I think we should make it a goal to make it special and budget friendly. They don't need to know we could go to a fancy resort. Maybe we all stay at Shell Cottage or even camp for a bit. What do you think?"

"Camping, huh?"

"Well, maybe it's time for both of us to redeem our experiences living in a tent."

He laughed, shaking his head. "Have you ever seen a magical tent?"

"No," she said suddenly intrigued. "How are they different?"

"Maybe I'll let that part be a surprise."

"Sure," she chuckled. "I don't need to sleep on the ground and eat mushrooms the whole time or anything. But I like the idea of a simpler holiday. We could hike, fish, kayak, do campfires – read, maybe have Hugo teach us to paint – that kind of thing."

"Alright. I think we have a good start to a plan at least. And I still like the idea of incorporating it with a book or story or author or something."

"I love that idea too," she said, but was unable to stifle the yawn as she spoke. "Sorry," she said, embarrassed. "I didn't realize how tired I was until just now. Sort of feels like I was hit by a lorry or something."

"I know what you mean," he said yawning as well. "I feel the same way."

"Must be this roller coaster of emotions we've been through over the past few hours. I think I am now officially crashing from the adrenaline rush of it all."

"I've never actually been on a roller coaster," he mused, yawning again.

"We're pathetic," she laughed as he made quick work of their dirty dishes. "We have a night for just the two of us and neither of us can stay awake to even clean up our supper. We hardly look like your typical newlyweds."

"Well, I don't think anyone has ever mistaken us for typical anything," he chuckled.

"That's certainly true," she said as she flicked off the lights as they headed upstairs. He popped into the loo to brush his teeth and came back into the bedroom to see her now clad in one of his old quidditch jerseys, which hung down to her knees and trying to wrangle her hair into a ponytail. He quietly came up behind her and helped hold her crazy curls while she slipped the elastic around her hair.

"Thanks," she said softly with a small smile as she headed off to the loo.

"Definitely my pleasure," he said quietly after she left the room.

When she came back he was in flannel pajama bottoms pulling back the blankets from their bed. She crawled in, and he spooned up behind her as he flicked off the lights with his wand.

"I really am so sorry about everything, Hermione. I love you so much. Are we really ok?" he whispered softly into her curls.

She rolled over to look him in the eye as she touched his face gently. "We are really ok, Ron. I love you. We are more than ok." She kissed him softly and tucked her face into the nook between his shoulder and neck, gently placing her hand on his chest as she relaxed against him. He kissed the top of her head and wrapped his arm snugly around her.