Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, I am simply playing around in a world already created by J.K. Rowling.

Chapter 4: Crest of a Wave

Hermione awoke the same morning as Ron was making his extravagant purchase feeling lonelier than she had in a very long time. The last time she remembered feeling this miserable was when Ron abandoned her and Harry on their Horcrux hunt.

Although she recalls those few months alone with Harry some of the worst she's ever experienced she never could bring herself to blame Ron. If only she had let him know how she felt, maybe he wouldn't have left them, left her. There was so much doubt hanging in the air between them then… But now... Now things are the same aren't they? She lies here alone and miserable, but again it is her own fault. She should have spoken up sooner about her trepidations about children. Then she and Ron wouldn't be fighting; they would be happy and normal.

But then again, maybe they wouldn't be. Maybe if she had been up front with him, then he never would have asked her to marry him. They might not have had all these happy years together after all. Maybe he would have married someone else and she would have been alone anyways. Maybe she was meant to be alone…

Hermione lay there in her and Ron's bed pouring over all the "maybes" in her life and grew weary and tired. Her life was about certainty, all this confusion and doubt was clawing at her insides. Maybe Ron was right; maybe she was just being selfish. She was sacrificing her own happiness, Ron's happiness, their families' loyalty, and perhaps their marriage by her desire to remain childless. If she had a child then at least Ron would be happy, their family wouldn't be torn, and their marriage would survive. But she wouldn't be happy. But wouldn't it be a greater thing to be unhappy yourself to make those you love happy?

For the first time she let herself entertain the idea of being a mother. She saw what Ron always saw, a little ginger, with bushy hair. She could see Ron happy and giving their child the love and attention he always got from his parents. She tried to put herself in the picture, but she just couldn't imagine it. She was sure it was possible; everyone says that once you see your baby your life is changed. Maybe her motherly instincts wouldn't kick in until her baby was in her arms.

With the last maybe filling her thoughts, she rolled over to Ron's side of the bed and inhaled deeply from his pillow. She took deep breaths of his scent until she drifted off to sleep dreaming of him.

This was how Ron found Hermione when he apparated into their home following the purchase the bracelet. He was completely shocked; she had shattered all the expectations he had of returning to their home. He figured she would be gone, or maybe waiting for him to yell at him. Certainly he did not expect her to be asleep at 11:00 am in their bed, curled around his pillow.

The image of her curled desperately around his pillow broke him. Any doubt he had that she was not as miserable as he was flew out the window. She looked just as broken as he felt. He stepped out of the door way and into their bedroom and his eyes fell upon the trash bin over flowing with tissues. He would bet that she had been in their bed since he slammed the door behind him yesterday.

His instincts, and need to comfort her took over his senses. He had to be next to her, to hold her. He kicked off his shoes, and threw off his jacket before crawling under the covers and sliding over to his wife. He laid down flush against her and pulled her close to him. The feel of her warm soft body close to his was almost more than he could handle. He managed to shift her so she was even closer to him, and she stirred at the disruption. He knew he had woken her up because she suddenly became unnaturally still in his arms. She kept her eyes closed tightly as though she were afraid of what she might be lying on. Her brow eventually created a worry crease through the middle of it, and Ron could not stop himself from reaching down and soothing it.

Immediately after his fingers made contact with her skin, Hermione's eyes popped open wide. She looked wide-eyed into nothingness before she tilted her head and starred Ron in the face, with a look of horror. Ron didn't understand her reaction; she looked genuinely terrified.

"Hermione, it's just me," he said to her, lightly.

She continued to stare at him and began to tremble as she choked back the tears that were forming behind her eyes. Then she abruptly turned her head away from him and rolled out of his embrace. She sat perched on the edge of their bed facing the wall beside it.

Ron felt torn. He took her reaction as rejection, but his heart still pulled him to her. He still felt the need to comfort her. "Mione?" he asked aloud hoping to get some guidance from her.

"Just give me some time," she responded very strained.

How much time she was referring to, he had no idea. He decided to take a long hot shower, and see where her emotions would bring her by the time he got out.

Ron left the room and went into their adjoining bathroom, giving Hermione the privacy she needed to collect her thoughts. As soon as she heard the shower head turn on she let out a sob she had been choking down since waking up.

She felt horrible for sending Ron away again so soon. What he must think of her! But as it was, he had picked a horrible time to stir her from her sleep. She had been dreaming of him. Having a nightmare about him really.

She dreamed he had sailed away to live at sea. She dreamed he could not get over her, and move on with another woman, so decided to live without women all together. She sailed the see to find him, but he had been washed up in the waves, in the vastness that the ocean offered. Her dream was just consumed by big blue waves, and she ended up sailing the sea searching for him forever.

When she awoke to find herself in his arms, relief hit her so powerfully she panicked. She was in a state where her dream had seemed so real, that to be in her husband's arms, safe, warm, loved seemed like the dream.

Realizing she how badly she needed him she jumped from the bed and began to furiously brush her hair. She preformed a smoothing charm and pulling it back into a ponytail before dashing from their room for the guest bathroom.

She used a spare toothbrush and worked to make herself as presentable as possible. She could not live without him, he was invading her sleep, and consuming every conscience thought she had. To live without Ron was to live without magic; to live without air. It simply couldn't be done. She wouldn't be Hermione.

After she was satisfied she ran from the bathroom back to their bedroom without a moment to lose. Every moment with Ron was precious; she couldn't waste one, not while they were fighting.

She rounded the corner to their room, hoping to make it back before the end of his shower, only to arrive at the same time as Ron. Shaking his hair out, with a towel wrapped around his waste. The fresh clean smell he brought with him awoke every sense in her body, and brought back memories from happy, playful times they have had together. The most prominent feeling it brought forward was her demanding lust for him. She caught flashes from her memory of them together in the shower, and before she could process what she was doing, she had leapt into his surprised arms and wrapped her legs around his waist.

Ron had been expecting a lashing when he emerged from his shower. Hadn't Hermione made it very clear they weren't to use their baby-making machine? He felt floored when he saw his wife eyeing him like he was a piece of meat. After their rough and tremulous fight, having her look at him that way was like Christmas morning to a child.

He took her change in heart in stride and caught her like it was second nature when she threw herself at him. He held his ground when her weight hit him and he pushed her back up against the wall. He would avoid the bed in any case of her remembering their earlier argument.

Later they both collapsed exhausted beside their bed onto the floor. Neither spoke to each other, and was much too lost in their reflections to even move. Ron had the sense about him to light their bedroom fire, and Hermione found the sense to use Ron as a human pillow. They both lay there without speaking drifting in and out of sleep and their thoughts until darkness filled their room.

Ron was the first to pull himself out of his daze. He glanced around until he found it was 6:00 p.m. and decided to whip something together for them to eat. He gently lifted Hermione onto their bed, slipped into some sweats and tip toed his way downstairs.

He had never been anything close to competent in the kitchen, so Hermione always appreciated even the smallest effort he made to providing for himself or them both. He put all the food he could fit onto a tray and levitated it up the stairs while he got something to drink.

Hermione woke to a tray of food bouncing on her hip. She pulled herself into a sitting position and stared at the gesture. Did this mean they made up? Are they just going to go back to normal and pretend the baby thing didn't happen? It's sure to haunt them if they do this. They had to talk about what happened. She glanced over to his nightstand to check the time, but it was obscured by something. She reached to move it out of the way, and her fingers collided with something velvet. Her heart skipped a beat as she closed her hand around the familiar shaped box. She held it unopened in her shaking hand until she made a split decision. She quick jumped off the bed dropping the box, pulled on the first clothes she saw and apparated with a pop to the first place that came to mind.