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Ron and Hermione were woken up by the high pitched squeals of their daughters who jumped on their bed and began to bounce around, pounding on legs and pulling up sheets.
"Grandma and Grandpa!" they chanted as they jumped. Ron opened his eyes in annoyance and reached out, grabbing Lorel right out of the air, which earned him and Hermione another two octaves of high toned gales of laughter as he pulled the little girl under the covers and started tickling her. Triniti continued to bounce until Hermione finally came to full consiousness.
"Triniti, honey please. No bouncing on the bed. Mummy doesn't feel so go-" Hermione begging was cut short by the familiar feeling in her stomach. Throwing back her covers, she sped to the bathroom and slammed the door shut. Sighing, Ron got up, letting go of Lorel and walked over to the bathroom. Opening the door, he kneeled down to Hermione's heaving form and rubbed her back as she emptied her stomach into the toilet. He pulled her hair back with one hand as she continued to throw up. Shivering, Hermione flushed the toilet and sat down. Ron pulled her into a hug as she closed her eyes.
"I'm so sick of this," she said. Ron reached down and rubbed the little bump that was her stomach.
"Well, just think, in a few months, it'll be over," he said.
"Mummy?" Lorel and Triniti appeared at the door, gazing with wide eyes at their mother who was still shaking, her hair plastered to her forehead with sweat. Ron watched them come over and rub their mom's back in comfort.
"Are the babies not hungry, mummy?" Lorel asked. Ron bit his lip to keep from smiling, but couldn't stop a chuckle from escaping. Hermione looked over at her daughter and smiled at her innocence.
"I guess so," she said wearily. Ron pulled her closer, kissing her head.
"You look like shit," Harry commented when he entered Ron's office. Ron didn't bother looking up from his paperwork.
"I don't want to hear it Potter," he growled, scribbling something on a memo. Harry sat down across from his friend and watched him for a while.
"Hermione ok?" he asked. Ron snorted.
"She's throwing up every morning, how would you feel?" he retorted. Harry smirked.
"Just weeks ago you acted like you'd just one the jackpot," he said. Ron rolled his eyes.
"Yeah well, It's been two years since I last won the jackpot. I forgot that to get the jackpot, you have to go through hell," he remarked.
"It's not that bad. Just be thankful Hermione's not so aggressive," Harry responded. Ron looked up at him.
"The last time you said that, I ended up spending the night at St. Mungos because Hermione got hold of her wand before I could get out the door," he muttered darkly, touching his head tenderly, grimacing at the memory. Harry paused for a moment, trying to recall the memory and then he smiled.
"Oh yeah," he said. Ron sighed.
"She wants to go for a walk after I come home from work... A walk?" he muttered. Harry stood and patted his friend on the back before going to exit.
"Well, at least she didn't say 'we have to talk about our priorities.'" He offered.
"Get out," Ron said. Harry grinned and closed the door behind him, leaving his friend to mumble to himself.
"This is nice," Hermione commented as they walked down the sidewalk. They had left the icecream parlor and were heading back home. Hermione had insisted that she was ok and that she wanted to walk back to the house as well. Ron had reluctantly agreed.
"I guess," he mumbled, looking up at the sky. The moon poked out through some clouds as the stars twinkled. Hermione glanced over at him then took his hand, pulling him closer. Ron looked down at their clasped hands then continued to walk, watching as the street grew more deserted as they entered the residential part of the town. Though it had been hard, the couple had managed to find a house in a wizarding section. It wasn't as big as the Burrow, but it would do. The path to the house was covered with trees and bushes. Hermione had been hesitant to by the place but after Ron promised to fix it up, she agreed and he had done a beautiful job.
"Where are the girls?" Ron asked.
"They should be sleeping now," was her response. Ron nodded as they continued up the path. He then froze. Hermione frowned.
"What?"
"Shh!" He pulled her closer to him as he glanced around the woods, drawing his wand. Scared, Hermione drew her wand as well, looking around trying to find the invisible threat that had Ron all riled up.
"Something's not right," he whispered.
"Ron!" Hermione gasped, pointing into the woods. A shadowed figure darted behind a tree. Ron pointed his wand at the person.
"Come out!" he ordered. Realizing that he had been noticed, the figure broke away from it's cover and sprinted off.
"Ron, he's heading towards the house!" Hermione whimpered. Ron broke off into a full blown run, eyes on the figure. Hermione cried out for him and then started to follow. Emerging from the path to the frontyard of their house, Ron lost sight of the perpetrator. He looked around. The house light Hermione had left on was still on. Hermione caught up with him, gasping for air. Turning to her, he took her arm.
"Hermione you shouldn't be doing that." She waved him off.
"Excersise is good for me," she wheezed, looking up. "Where'd the guy go?" Ron shrugged, looking around.
"I don't know..." he said. She straightened up and started for the door, worry etched on her face.
"Well, I'm going to check on the girls."
"I'll look around," he said, walking off towards the backyard. Hermione disappeared into the house. Rounding the house, he stepped over small toys and headed for the broom shed. Opening it up, he lit his wand and looked around but found nothing. Sighing, he continued to look around the yard until he hit woods.
"LET GO OF ME! RON!" came Hermione's peircing cry. Ron took off for the front of the house and then skidded to a stop, eyes wide. On the front yard stood ten deatheaters. Two had hold of Hermione, who was struggling, her arm bleeding. Two others were holding on to his daughters, who were crying. Ron raised his wand.
"What's going on?" he asked in a deceptivly calm voice. His mind was racing, sizing up the situation and searching for avenues in which death of a loved one was not an outcome. One deatheater stepped forward.
"Ronald Bilius Weasley. You've been charged with the murder of Lucius Malfoy."
"WHAT?" Ron yelped. The deatheater repeated himself.
"You've been charged with the murder of Lucius Malfoy," he said. Ron's mind went back to the last battle. He remembered. He looked up.
"What do you want with my family?" he asked. The deatheater motioned to his daughters and then to his wife.
"You have a choice to make. Either you chose your wife and those three things inside her or you can chose those two adorable daughters..." Hermione's eye went wide and met with Ron's.
How did he know about the triplets?
She started to struggle again.
"NO! LEAVE THEM ALONE!" she screamed. Ron just stood there, frozen, the deatheaters words running through his mind.
"Why are you doing this?" he asked, his voice hoarse. The deatheater finally removed his mask. "Draco Malfoy..." Ron muttered. The blonde grinned.
"At your service. Now, you must hurry, I haven't got all night."
"You can't make me chose!" Ron screamed, his heart tightening painfully in his chest.
"That's not an answer," was Malfoy's curt reply.
"Your father deserved to die!" Ron yelled. Malfoy stiffened, his eyes narrowing.
"My father is the reason you're in this mess Weasley so I suggest you tread lighly."
"You're an asshole!" Malfoy shrugged.
"Tick tock! Tick tock, Weasley. Time is everything. Now, decide!" he shouted, his eyes blazing with evil delight. Ron shook his head, pointing his wand at Malfoy. Hermione could see the pain in his eyes.
"NO!" he screamed. A smile appeared on Malfoy's lips.
"Well then... we'll just have to lower the choices shall we?" he said. Hermione's eyes bulged at what he had said. Ron stood stock still.
"What?" Malfoy turned to the deatheater holding Triniti and nodded. The deatheater took out his wand.
"NO!" Hermione screamed, trying desperately to reach her crying confused daughter, tears streaming down her face. There was a flash of green light and the little girl's lifeless body fell to the ground. In that moment, time stood still. Ron's heart stopped as he saw Triniti's small hand hit the ground, pale. Suddenly her whole life flashed before his eyes. Her birth. Her first step. First word. The first time he ever held her. Her birthday's. Everything... and now... she was gone... Hermione's cries of anguish and heartache came back into focus as reality once again came crashing back into his life.
"NO! YOU BASTARDS! NO!" he screamed, falling to his knees. Lorel started crying louder. Malfoy's smile grew, but it never met his emotionless eyes.
"Now, now, Weasley. You still have four more... that is if you start chosing. I asure you, I know spells that will pinpoint life and destroy it without affecting that thing you call a wife," he sneered. Ron remained on the ground, silent tears running down his face. Hermione's eyes remained on her fallen daughter, silently pleading that this was all a horrific dream. A dream that all of a sudden got much worse.
"CHOOSE WEASLEY!" Malfoy ordered, growing increasingly annoyed. Ron looked up and his eyes met with Hermione's. Her heart broke in that one moment. She saw his helplessness. His fear. And his utter ruin. She looked down and then around, searching for something. Then she saw it. Her wand. It was lying on the ground, ignored. Her eyes then met Ron's again. He could tell what she was thinking and shook his head slightly. She bit her lip, tears cascading down her dirty face.
I'm sorry, she mouthed. Then she did it. Twisting around she slammed down with her foot and then lashed out with her arm, hurting one man's foot and catching the other's eye. Released, she dove for her wand. From that point onward, things seemed to move in slow motion for Ron. He remembered screaming her name. Malfoy's shouts. Flashes of light. Three bodies hiting the ground, the sound of a broken wand and then a loud explosion. He remembered the pain of being blown back and hitting something. He remembered the flames and then the merciful darkness that overcame him. Then he remembered no more...
A/N: ...