AN: Thank you for all of the wonderful reviews for the past two chapters. I found the suggestions and comments highly helpful! AND! Looking for a beta. Please, send me an e-mail with Beta as the subject! Much love!

The Meaning of Love

Ron's Temper

Winds of Autumn

The day after Harry and Hermione shared their conversation in Harry and Ron's room, Harry told Molly of his plan to redecorate Grimmauld Place over a large breakfast, made especially in light of Molly's worry over Ron's failure to return the night before. She had been as excited over the news as Hermione had been, and just as eager to help him get it done.

Sitting at the table, Hermione looked happier than Harry or anyone had seen her since her sixth year. She wore a contented little smile, a sparkle in her brown eyes that seemingly couldn't be dimmed, not even by Ron's missing presence or Ginny's sour persona. Harry was happy for her. Truely happy that she could finally face the sunrise without shame and depression.

"Hogwarts letters came early this morning," Molly announced, handing them out to the three at the table. Ron's sat on the counter, a target of constant attention as Molly shot frequent glances at it, as if by doing so she could jerk Ron back home. The clock in the living room had his hand at safe, at least.

Hermione eagerly reached for her own envelope, anxious to see the book list for the upcoming year. As was standard procedure, Minerva had sent them all the standard invitation back to another year at Hogwarts, though each of theirs was a bit more personalized. Hermione's read:

Miss Hermione Granger,

You are formally invited to continue your schooling at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. If you shall find yourself accepting the offer, I would appreciate hearing from you. If you do not accept, I would also appreciate hearing from you.

Also, in light of recent events and repercussions, you will be granted further responsibilities and priviledges. As Head Girl, you will share a common room with the Head Boy. You will have access to the kitchens at any time, and should you be in need of assisstance from either Madame Pomfrey or St. Mungos, the fireplace will be open for your use. I do trust you to be responsible with such a responsibility, however, and if it is not, your position as Head Girl will be revoked.

I do hope that you accept the offer that Hogwarts is extending to you. And, rest assured, your present pregnancy will not have any weight on how you will be treated. Any person or persons found calling unnecessary attention to it in a uncalled-for way will face consequences, have no doubt.

Sincerely,

Headmistress Minerva McGonagall

Hermione stared at the parchment for a long moment, then beamed. She'd gotten Head Girl! Shaking the envelope to retrieve the badge, she set the note from McGonagall and the list of required books aside. A glance at Harry let her know that he'd been chosen as Head Boy. Sneaky, brilliant witch, McGonagall was. She knew that Harry wouldn't let anyone send her smart remarks or harm her, and by naming them both Heads, she had effectively--- and quietly--- ensured that they would always be together in case Hermione was in need.

"Congradulations, Harry!" Hermione squealed, reaching across the table to give him a high-five. Ginny smiled too, proud that her boyfriend had acquired such a position. She herself had kept a Prefect position, as she was sure Ron had.

"Will you be getting Quiddich Captain, too?" Hermione asked, tilting her head as she watched him. Feeling Ginny's spiteful brown gaze on her, she quickly dropped her gaze, becoming interested in the book list. A trip to Diagon Alley would be good for them, all of them. And while they were there, she and Harry could work on getting some things for Grimmauld Place.

"I don't know," Harry said slowly, staring at the badge. He was sure, with Hermione and Head Boy, that he'd have enough on his hands, along with the year of preperation for the N.E.W.T.S. Perhaps it would be good to pass on to Ron. He'd do fine, Harry had no doubt. Grinning, he glanced at Ginny. "Think Ron'll want it?"

Ginny's eyes brightened, and she grinned back. "He'd love it. Just don't let him know you passed it up and he got seconds on it." Harry nodded in response, grabbing a quill to write back to McGonagall. When he was done with the brief note, he paused, having been on his way to reaching for Hedwig.

Ginny, reading it, rested a hand on his arm. "You can use Arnold, or even Harrold." Harry smiled and winced.

"Crookshanks is around somewhere. He needs the exercise," Hermione offered without looking up from her list. She turned to Molly, immediately becoming emmersed in a conversation about what might be found in Diagon Alley; anything from baby necessities to what Harry might like in his journey to redecorate Grimmauld Place.

"Thanks," he murmered, taking Ginny's hand and tugging her after him as he left the kitchen. Ginny pouted slightly, stung that he'd choose Hermione's kneezle over her pygmy-puff. "C'mon," he whispered against her ear, his body brushing lightly against hers. Her eyes changed immediately, a tiny smile lurking on her lips as she allowed him to drag her to the empty field where they played Quiddich during the summer. Just over the rise was a field of trees, and the two disappeared into them. Dropping the parchment for later, Harry pulled Ginny close.

"Oohh, Harry, I've missed you," Ginny murmered softly, her hands framing his face as she kissed him gently. He smiled, kissing the tip of her nose and standing there, his girlfriend pulled tightly to his chest. She was nearly as tall as he was, and didn't fit against him as well as he would have liked. There was someone else who fit against him better...

"Don't talk," Harry whispered in return, closing his eyes as he just held her. Ginny had other things in mind, however, and she soon had Harry agreeing.

Back at the Burrow, Molly and Hermione looked up simultaineously as Ron finally came home. Upon being caught, the red-head flushed deeply and avoided his mothers direct look.

"Ronald Percival Weasley!" Ron winced, his shoulders sagging.

"Yes, mum?" he asked, turning to her hopefully.

"Just where do you think you've been?!" Planting her hands on her hips, Molly tilted her head back defiantly to meet the repentant gaze of her taller son.

"Mum..." Ron paused, leaning forward to whisper something in her ear. She stood silently for a moment, then smiled at him.

"Up to your room with you. Bathe and change. You'll not eat until you do." That said, Molly turned back to Hermione, taking her seat in front of her again and resuming their conversation about babies.

"Babies are such special gifts. They are what is truely magical in a world such as ours." Molly smiled, patting Hermione's hand. "I can't wait! You'll be due in... late January? Early Feburary?"

"Molly!" Hermione whispered urgently, her frantic gaze meeting Ron's furious ones.

"Pregnant, Hermione?" Ron asked softly, his voice completely at odds with the fire in his eyes. Molly blinked, then winced.

"Ronald, sit down. Hermione's got something to tell you." Ron ignored his mother, his gaze still locked furiously with Hermione's.

"Ron... I was raped," Hermione started out, dropping her gaze from his to stare sightlessly at the floor as she relived the memory yet again. When she'd finished her tale, she looked up at him, tears clinging to her thick lashes. "I understand if you're angry for me not telling you, but I knew how you'd respond, and I figured that I would wait until I knew for sure if there would be a reason to tell you or not. There is. I'm two months pregnant."

Ron was quiet for a few minutes. Then, as if he was just waking up from a long winters' nap, he stepped forward and drew her into his arms. "Why didn't you tell me?" he whispered hoarsely. That was what hurt the most; the fact that Hermione had kept it from him. Suddenly, things seemed to make sense. Her closeness Molly, her hesitance to go out into public, her withdrawl from things she loved, the pitying looks that the Order had been giving her, and the shadows in her eyes.

"I couldn't. You and Harry would have seen it as your personal failure, and I couldn't let you guys feel any more guilt." Hermione sniffled, burrying her face in his chest. He was taller than Harry, and more wiry. There was the same strength, just not as prettily packaged.

Ron closed his eyes. "You were wrong to keep it from us, Hermione. We would have helped you. What if we had kept something this important from you?" He felt Hermione shiver and drew away, giving her a last look before heading upstairs for his room. He heard Hermione's sob behind him, but ignored it. He was hurt, beyond belief, that she hadn't thought to share with either of her best mates.

In the middle of the hall he paused, as if the pieces of the puzzle were finally falling into place. Rage filled him, made him tremble, and he careened back into the kitchen. Hermione saw him first, and her eyes went wide as she stumbled out of the chair, an unreasonable fear filling her at the sight of him so angry.

"You told George first?!" he bellowed, slamming a fist into the table as he advanced on her. Molly was paralyzed; she'd never seen her son, any of them, in a rage such as this. Hermione backed up, terrified little steps that backed her into a corner as Ron advanced. Wide eyed and trembling, she slid down the wall to curl up, hugging her knees to her chest as he towered over her.

"I'm your BEST MATE! I WAS YOUR BOYFRIEND! And you trusted my brother over me?" Hermione sobbed, rocking back and forth, whimpering as Ron's rage washed over her. It was unreasonable to be so afraid, she knew it in some part of her mind, and yet she couldn't help it. Would he hit her? Would he send curses flinging at her like they had?

"Ronald!" Molly's voice rang sharply in the air, the threat reinforced by the wand that was raised and directed toward her youngest son.

Ron glanced at her, then backed off, fire still in his eyes as he stomped away, heading for the backdoor instead of going up to his room as his mother had ordered earlier.

Molly went to Hermione immediately, wrapping the trembling, terrified girl in her tightest hug and rocking her back and forth. Waving her wand, she sent a patronas to Minerva. It was high time that Hermione received some counselling, whether she wanted it or not.