Chapter 4

Ron and Hermione were by no means getting back together, but they both knew that they had achieved some sort of fragile truce for the time being. Grandma Weasley had decided that they all discuss the latest development after dinner, and Rose seconded the idea. It was strange for Hermione, setting the table with her husband (for they had not technically divorced) whom she hadn't spoken to in two years. She cast furtive glances at him when she thought he wasn't looking. His vibrant red hair had lost its life, and it hung disinterestedly around his face. A bit longer than he used to keep it, it was also peppered with a few gray strands. She could tell it had been a while since he had last laughed. Then again, she too had found it hard to smile ever since she had learned of Harry's death. She should have been there for Ron when it happened, but Hermione, in a moment of mindless selfishness, had forsaken everything that was important to her and had withdrawn into herself. She stopped caring about everything. Except for her work.

She would spend hours upon hours at her research lab, pushing herself until she no longer could remember what her life used to be. She began sleeping at her office, and when she did go home, all she had to look forward to was yelling, broken dishes, and accusations. All were rightfully deserved, but at that time, Hermione felt as though she were under some unfair attack. Of course, hindsight was always 20/20 and she knew now that if it had been Ron in her place, she would've wanted answers as well. But with his accusations growing larger and larger by the day, Hermione decided to keep her silence, refusing to answer any questions about her whereabouts. Ron, of course, assumed the worst, and called her a "lying, cheating, slut" sending Hermione into a rush of tears and out of the house faster than anyone would've thought possible. She didn't bother trying to correct her husband, because it gave her some sort of sick satisfaction, making him believe that she was wanted by someone else. But in reality, she had nowhere to go.

And that was how Hermione Weasley slowly spiraled into a life of utter loneliness and mild depression. Hugo had visited her once, telling her that Ron had jumped off a bridge in an attempt to end his life. In that moment, Hermione wanted to rush to St. Mungo's and beg for forgiveness. But then Hugo told her not to come, that her presence would do no good for Ron. So it was this bit of news that kept her where she was, in her dingy flat above the Leaky Cauldron, working at some no-name bookstore, having quit her job at the lab. All the Weasleys refused to speak to her, and she completely understood why. But she desperately needed to speak to someone, so she had taken to sitting at Harry's grave, and simply talking.

It was oddly therapeutic, and she found herself healing this way. Though she never got a response, she felt as though he was truly there, listening and being there for her as he always had been. But as time went on, she ran out of things to say and she found herself missing him more than ever. On one particularly horrid day, she almost felt Harry next to her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. He would smooth her frizzy hair down, and look down at her. "Mione," he would say. "You really should spend more time with the living. Do me a favor, and live a little. Go home to Ron and tell him you love him. You don't tell him nearly enough. And tell my beautiful niece and nephew that they should come round more often."

Hermione smiled and wrapped her arms around herself, wishing it were actually Harry that was hugging her. But then she realized that Harry was right, that she really did need to start living more. And that was when she got Rose's owl.
Dear Mum,

Come to the Burrow at around 7. Need to talk to you and Dad.

Sincerely,

Rose

Sincerely, she had signed. Not love, not kisses, like she had used to. A cold, unfeeling, sincerely, which probably wasn't even written with any sincerity at all. Yet, the note gave her hope. Maybe this was exactly the chance she needed to make amends.

Hermione looked up at Ron after she set the last plate down, this time not bothering to hide the fact that she was staring. He met her gaze questioningly at first, but after searching her eyes, he looked away as if he couldn't bear to look at her for any longer than was necessary. Hermione let out a breath she didn't even realize she was holding. She missed him so much, and loved him even more.

~:-:~

Rose couldn't pretend that everything was suddenly right as rain between her and her parents, but for the first time in years, she felt something other than hate towards them. Rose had also never felt so happy to be proven wrong. She enjoyed Grandma Weasley's cooking so much, that her father had to thwack her on the back after she had practically inhaled the mashed potatoes with such gusto that she began choking. This elicited laughter around the table, and she felt her heart lighten a little. This felt almost normal and it almost made her forget the reason she was there in the first place. Judging by how quickly everyone seemed to sober up, they too realized that today was not really a happy occasion.

As a general rule, Rose hated sympathy of all kinds. She didn't want it, and went out of her way not to get it, especially from her family. But for the first time ever (it seemed that these past few days were full of firsts for Rose) she actually wanted her parents' sympathy, because it meant that they cared. This almost made getting pregnant worth it.

Almost.

The rest of dinner was essentially silence, with Grandpa Weasley attempting to make small talk but then realizing that it was probably just easier to stay quiet. Once all the dishes were washing themselves in the sink, they all retreated to the sitting room where they had originally congregated.

Rose once again found herself clearing her throat awkwardly, and starting off with a "So…" But she was saved from the pain of approaching her situation thanks to her dear grandfather.

"I think you should keep it, Rosie," he said quietly, but rather suddenly. Four pairs of eyes rested tentatively on the oldest Weasley and waited for him to continue. He cleared his throat much like Rose had done a few seconds before, as he shifted in his seat so that he was facing his granddaughter. "It's a baby, after all. You're old enough to have one, and while I would gladly kill the man who did this to you, it's not the baby's fault." He looked around at everyone else, as if needing confirmation, before his eyes finally rested on Rose's.

"That's exactly what Hugo said," Rose told everyone with a small smile.

"Well, I disagree," Grandma Weasley piped up from Rose's other side. "I don't think you need a baby complicating matters much more. Firstly, you're much to stressed as it is. Having a baby will do nothing to lessen your headaches. Trust me, I've had six." She looked around threateningly at the people before her, as if daring them to say otherwise. "Secondly, being an Auror and all, it'll be hard for you to really be there for the child. I have no doubts that you'll make a brilliant mother Rosie, but you can't help if you have to be away most of the time. Considering the father won't be around to help you—" she paused here, and her family watched as her breathing grew heavier and her eyes attained a rather hard, flinty quality to them. "Well fuck that bastard anyways. Pardon my French." Rose found herself laughing with her father at her Grandmother's outburst.

"Anyways," Grandma Weasley continued, "It won't be your fault, but you won't even have time for the babe. That brings me to my third, and last point. Rosie, do you really think you can look at this child without being reminded of how it came about? What if the baby has his eyes, and his hair, and his cruel smile? What then? How can you possibly love a child like that?" She had eyes only for her pregnant granddaughter as she said this, and Rose was glad that someone else agreed with all the points she had brought up to Hugo. And then Rose turned to her parents, and raised her eyebrows questioningly.

"And what about you both?" she asked them, suddenly desperate to hear what they'd say.

"I think you should do whatever you feel best," Hermione said first, taking hold of Rose's hand. "I think a woman should decide for herself whether or not she wants to have children. I will not tell you what you should or shouldn't do because in the end, that is solely up to you. I will, however, tell you to strongly consider both sides of the argument. There are pros and cons to both. But I know you Rosie, and I know you'll make the best choice. I will support whichever one you choose," she ended with an encouraging smile.

"I agree with your mum," Ron added gruffly. "This is your choice, and I will completely support your decision. You're smarter than your mum" (Hermione shot him a reproachful look at this comment) "and much braver than me, so I think whatever you do will be for the best. All I ask is that you tell me who the hell did this to you, so I can personally see to his castration and tragically violent death."

Rose chuckled at her dad, and patted his arm consolingly. She couldn't help but feel that her parents were being uncharacteristically kind to her. Perhaps they were not eager to demolish what fragile sort of understanding they had reached tonight. Rose was okay with that. Their answers had been good enough for her.

"I think I came to a decision a long time ago, but I just wanted to hear what you thought of it." Rose took a deep breath before continuing. "I'm not keeping it." Rose held her hand up when Grandpa Weasley clearly showed signs of protest. "I understand Grandpa, that it is a life. And no one values a life more than I do. My job description is literally: save lives. But Grandpa, I don't think I could live with myself if I brought this child into this world. Basically, Grandma Weasley covered it all. But this kid wouldn't have a good life with me. It would be shunned and I really don't think I want to have a child only to have him or her wish death upon himself or herself. I don't expect you to understand, but please, for my sake, try to." Rose heald her Grandfather's gaze for three whole minutes, before he dropped his head with a sigh.

"I understand your reasons Rosie, and I respect them. But I still don't think it's the right thing to do. But it is your decision, and I will stand by it." Rose felt a rush of gratitude towards the wizened Weasley, and allowed a full smile to grace her features. She mouthed a small thank you to him from across the coffee table, and he smiled back in return.

And almost as soon as she had decided to come, Rose got up to say her goodbyes. She kissed Grandma Weasley on both her cheeks, thanking her for the wonderful dinner and promising to come around more often. She hugged Grandpa Weasley so tight, that he came up wheezing with laughter. She even decided to hug her parents; something that hadn't happened since she was 12. She hugged them cautiously, reservedly, as if a hug too tight would send them back into the state of silent angry indifference they had become so accustomed too. Or at least, what Rose had become so accustomed too. She kissed them on the cheek nonetheless, and promised to keep in touch more. A promise she sincerely hoped she would keep.

She waved her last goodbyes before Apparating away. Though she was tired, Rose still had one more stop to make before finally calling it a day.

~:-:~

Hermione watched as her only daughter waved at her, before disappearing into the night. She then realized that she was left with her husband and her in-laws, and suddenly felt extremely apprehensive. She turned around and gave Mr. and Mrs. Weasley hesitant smiles.

"I think I've intruded for long enough here, I better be on my way," she nervously tucked a few frizzy strands behind her ears and pushed her glasses higher up her nose so that they rested tightly against her face. "Dinner was as amazing as I remember it Mrs. Weasley, and Mr. Weasley, thanks for those new coffee grounds. I'll try them as soon as I get home." She looked down at her feet and felt the heat rise to her cheeks. They all stood there for a full minute before Hermione realized that she probably wouldn't get a response. She sighed inwardly, resigning herself to the fact that she had really screwed up. She had purposely not said anything to Ron, because what was there to say? "So I'll just be going then," she said, turning on her heel. And that was when the strangest thing happened. Someone pulled her wrist back into the house, and she felt herself being pulled into someone's arms. One deep breath was all it took to know who it was, and before she knew it, her own arms went up to wrap around him.

It was amazing how time could vastly changed a person, yet left them just the same. He still smelled of freshly mown grass, honeysuckle, the aftershave that all Weasley men used, and home. Oh how she had missed him. "Don't be a stranger," he said softly as he released her. She looked up to see Mr. and Mrs. Weasley with badly repressed smiles on their faces. And when she felt the tears coming, she knew it was time to go. She smiled up at all of them before finally leaving.

Hermione knew that things were far from all right, but this was a start.


Ok I didn't actually mean to have a Ron/Hermione subplot, but here it is nonetheless. Oh well, who doesn't love some Rermione, amirite or amirite?

There's gonna be some Sorose action in the next chapter though! (woo)

Review, Review, Review! :)