I don't even know how to apologise for how unreliable I am being on this fic! SORRY! And I wrote this while half asleep and tired and haven't gone over it properly so I'm very sorry about the mistakes there will be.

Hermione padded into the kitchen the next day, to find the whole Weasley clan around the table about to eat lunch. When she entered, the conversation stopped. She bit her lip and was worried her nightmare had come true again, they found it to awkward around her now she was pregnant and they weren't going to be rid of her soon. While her anxious thoughts had only taken a second to build up, the air was filled with the sound of chairs being scraped back and she was suddenly swept into the arms of the family that had become her own. Laughter and congratulations sang through the air, and Hermione held on to anyone she could reach.

"Get away! Shoo!" Mrs Weasley was swatting at her brood as they backed off, "Give her room to breathe, honestly, what did I say about being gentle not 5 minutes ago!" She patted Hermione's arm with a warm smile then set about sorted a bowl of soup for the girl. Arthur gave her a soft hug before he sat down himself. Hermione sat down at the table next to Charlie, who poured her a cup of pumpkin juice as Mrs Weasley passed her a bowl of soup, which smelled amazing. The meal returned to normal, apart from the constant smiles aimed at Hermione and whenever she found her plate empty, it was filled by hands that weren't hers. When all the food had been eaten, and chairs were pushed back to make room for full stomachs and cups of tea were passed around, talk turned to the pressing issue of whether the cake tin should be cracked open, which it then was.

George cleared his throat, "Me and Fred reckon it's time to go see about opening up the shop again." Fred nodded, "Yeah, we've cleared up the damage so it's all grand spanking new." Hermione's head shot up. "Can I come into Diagon Alley with you?"

All eyes around the table shot to Hermione, who looked back enquiringly.
Ginny asked "Are you sure you're ready?"
Hermione nodded, "I think so, I'd like to get out and see the world again. Plus I'd like to get some books"
Mrs Weasley was about to say something when Mr Weasley placed a gentle hand on hers and squeezed it. She looked at her husband and sighed, knowing he was right, and she looked at Hermione and smiled. "That sounds lovely. Try to enjoy yourself."
Fred grinned, feeling responsible for Hermione's breakthrough, "Great, we were thinking of leaving around 2?"

It turned out that suddenly most of the Weasleys had reasons to visit Diagon Alley, Bill wanted to drop into Gringotts, Charlie was after a new quill, Percy had heard of a book he wanted to look into, Ginny claimed to want a book as well and Harry wasn't going to miss this for the world. Hermione sighed as she came downstairs to find them all standing by the fireplace. "Really? It's just Diagon Alley", she said, shaking her head and laughing. Despite it being August, she had gone for jeans and a jacket left open to hide her small bump.
"Shall we?" Bill asked, holding out the floo powder.
"Thank you darling," Fred answered, helping himself before stepping into the fireplace.

By the time they had all arrived in Diagon Alley (Hermione second last as they wanted to make sure the end was safe), it was close to half to half two on a Sunday afternoon and the street was busy. Hermione gasped, it was almost the same Diagon Alley she had visited seven years ago. Apart from one difference, the cracks left in the brickwork and the paving slabs had been filled, filled with love and light. Melted gold had been poured into the cracks of the street. This gave the street veins of gold sparkling in the light, and once more there was life in Diagon Alley. Shop owners had returned and rebuilt their places of business, and those shop fronts that had no-one to return to them were claimed and brought back to life. One shop across from Ollivanders had become a dark arts supply shop in to war, but now it was a flower shop filled to the brim with common and exotic flowers. The flowers had spilled out onto the street and any who passed by could smell the sweet scents.
Hermione set off for Flourish and Blotts but felt the entire group around her move with her, surrounding her. "I thought you had places to go?" She asked pointedly. No-one moved. She glared at Charlie, who winked at her.
"Sorry love, promised mum we'd look out for you."
Hermione rolled her eyes, but moved forward, hoping her protectors would eventually back off.
As they passed the new flower shop, she spotted a flash of soft pink amongst the oranges and yellows of the large bouquets in buckets at the front. Glancing back at the others, she slipped over to the edge of the display. There were half a dozen buckets filled with roses. Red, yellow, white, all the colours common to the muggle world were there. And then the Wizarding world roses: sky blue, violet, orange, pale lavender. But Hermione was drawn to the smallest bucket. These roses were cream coloured, with the petals turning a pale pink towards the edges with flecks of darker pink. She kneeled down, slightly awkwardly due to the bump, Bill and George noticing and moving forward to help. She didn't need it but they did their typical job of staying where she could feel their presence, knowing she could rely on them anytime. Her hand slowly picked out a perfect rose. The creamy pink petals brushed her nose as she held it to her face, closing her eyes, a drum beating within her and she thought of him in the quiet willing crowd.

Ron had been back for a few weeks, and they were walking to Xenophilius Lovegood's, where Hermione hoped they'd find out something about the strange symbol that seemed to haunt them. Harry was striding ahead, feeling rejuvenated now they had a plan, and now Ron had returned. The fact he'd also just finished his shift with the locket and passed it on to Hermione. Ron was walking a few feet behind Harry, running his hand along the low stone wall that lined the country lane they were walking along. With every step she took Hermione felt the locket bounce against her chest, the coldness pushing it's way into her heart. The hopelessness of their situation was trying to overwhelm her, her heart kicking her every time it beat, pushing her failures to the front of her mind. Breaking Harry's wand. How could they even consider defeating Voldemort, the most powerful wizard alive, after the saviours best friend had snapped his wand. How could they possi – NO! She shook her head, trying to scatter the negative thoughts. A flash of gold distracted her, up ahead the sun had broken over the low hill that surrounded the valley they were in, and the bright golden light had caught in Ron's hair and lingered there. A month ago Hermione would've given anything to see that head of hair poke out of the tent flap offering her a cup of tea while she was on watch, or poking out from beneath the covers on his bottom bunk. And now he was here, and Hermione just couldn't stop watching him. It was as if she didn't really believe he was really there, he honestly and truly came back to them. His hand was still grazing along the wall, his exposed forearm was littered with the scars from the Department of Mysteries. They were all scarred now. She'd never forget the moment his eyes left hers when he flung himself out of the tent; the seven year connection between them snapping a wrenching a hole in her chest. She hated her vulnerability when he had gone. She hated the power he held over her. She hated the fact that she looked to him so much. She hated the fact that she'd follow him anywhere. She hated that he hadn't trusted her, and followed her. She hated that she didn't feel like she was enough for him.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she snapped, reverting back to muggle slang in her anger. They were passing a small stone cottage, it's little front garden filled with greenery. Ron had stopped by a patch of winter roses that were clambering over the wall. His long fingers had just snapped the stem of a rose as he held it to his nose. At the sharp tone of her voice, his eyes darted to hers questioningly.
She stopped walking, and raised her eyebrows accusingly.
"That's someones garden, their private property. . . which you are vandalising for NO REASON!"
At this, a small smile crept onto Harry's face. He'd missed this.
"Good luck, mate" he muttered, clapping Ron on the back and continuing to walk.
"Come on then! What gives you the right!" Hermione's voice had become shrill.
Ron's eyes softened as the hand holding the rose fell to his side, and the other ruffled his hair. This was the most emotion he'd gotten from the witch since she'd attacked him with leaves. He smiled a little.
Hermione's voice was quiet and breathy, "What gives you the right to break something that isn't yours?" His shoulders slumped and his smile lost its light as he saw tears shining in her eyes. He dropped his bag from his back and walked over to the girl he'd loved for years stood. Where she stood and where she was crying, because of him. He held out the rose, his eyes never leaving hers, begging for the connection he thought he'd lost forever.
"It's for you." His words danced across the wind to her. "It's all for you now."
Hermione's eyes flickered down to the rose. It's pale and creamy pink petals glowed in the soft light. He's offering her everything she's ever wanted, centuries of it. And the thought ran into her heart.
Her face softened as she tentatively took the rose from him, rolling the stem between her fingers. She looked up at him and saw the sadness burn into hope in his eyes. They reached for each other instantly, his arms hooked around her back, standing tall so he was holding her up and her legs wrapped around him. Her hand with the rose is wrapped around the back of his neck, the other is pushed into his hair. Her face is pressed into his neck, while he buried his face in her hair. They stand there for a while, just holding each other. Harry was sat on the wall a few metres away, he glanced at his best friends before pulling an apple out of his bag.
When Ron lowered Hermione back to the ground, his hands framed her face, "I'm here for good now, you're stuck with me." He dropped a quick kiss on her forehead then he leant down to pick up his bag, with one hand still firmly entwined with Hermione's. The rose was still in her other hand. As they caught up with Harry, he chuckled and threw away his apple core.
"Finally," he laughed.

Hermione gazed at the rose. In the quiet moments between her heartbeats, she imagined something different, a different hand reaching down to help her up. But she stops after a moment, feeling calm. She slowly gets to her feet, smiling but shaking her head at the hands offered. The shopkeeper, a small round wizard in burgundy robes, bustled over. He smiled at the group, but it grew brighter at Harry and Hermione.
"Don't even think about trying to pay for that flower," he beamed. Harry looked awkward but Hermione smiled at him softly.
"Thank you," she murmured but he was gone, called over by another customer. The rose was all she needed for now. Ron had been gone for months now, but he was there in the petals all the same.