Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter nor do make money.

Waves

A/N: This piece is tied directly to the piece 'Bias'. You will see what I mean by the end.

Her life had become a series of waves. And she hated it.

There was the nausea. It would overwhelm her in the morning, only to subside by lunch and flare back up in the evening – most days. Other days, she woke up fine and the day went down hill from there and other days it was the opposite and still other it was a combination of them all.

There was the comments. The lies, the half-truths regarding why her case was different – all dominated by the anger in the hurt in the voices that sounded them. Each one further pulling at her emotions, pushing her into herself; sending so many emotions coursing through her regularly in the form of mood swings until she realized that she was about to drown amongst the ebbs and flows.

The worst part was that she probably could have handled her erratic mood swings, her guilt was causing as well as the stress of the trial, if she wasn't so tired all the time. Her exhaustion just seemed to make everything she was feeling ten times worse – which in turn killed her appetite. Her decreased appetite only made Ron's good-nature hovering worse and that only led to her feeling more guilty until...

She stopped fighting everything.

One morning, while Ron was getting ready for classes in the restroom, she stopped midway through putting on her own uniform, she came to the conclusion to just stop. Stop everything.

So, instead of finishing putting on her uniform, she put on her favourite jeans that probably only fit because of the weight loss and her pilfered Cannon's kit and sat back down on the bed. She was able to keep the tears at bay until Ron knelt in front of her.

When she lifted her head at his hand's insistence, she met his bright blue eyes full of concern as he pushed back her hair. Her tears finally started to slip from their base as she whispered. "I'm sorry Ron. I can't do this. I can't stand the whispers."

He was quiet for several minutes as they continued their conversation with only their eyes and not their words. After she flung herself into his arms, she heard him whisper, "What do you want to do?"

Surprised that she even had an answer as she hadn't even thought about what she wanted to do now, she knew that the one on the tip of her tongue was the right answer for them: for her Ron, and their child. Pulling back, she met his eyes and whispered, "Can we take Charlie up on his offer and go to the Reserve?"

"Are you sure?"

"Positive, only if you are."

Ron kissed her on her forehead before replying, "I'll owl him today. I'm tired of bloody old England too."