Ron paced in circles around an ugly set of furniture in the waiting room at St. Mungo's. The crystal bubbles that illuminated the halls glimmered overhead, but he was staring fixedly at the ground, unable to keep still. His fingers twisted and fidgeted of their own accord as he walked first one way, and then the other. Harry stood a few feet away, staring blankly down the corridor. They'd been waiting for nearly half an hour.

"Ron," Harry said quietly, and he glanced up for the first time since Neville had departed. Harry nodded down the corridor, where the ward doors had swung open.

"Dad!" Rose cried, running down the corridor into Ron's arms. Hugo followed closely behind her, and after him came Ginny, Albus, James, and Lily.

"Hi, Rosie," Ron said, harried, but relieved to be holding his daughter. He opened one arm to take in Hugo as well, and his chin trembled as they embraced. When they finally pulled back, Rose looked as though she were on the verge of tears. Ron gave a great sniff and reached out to rub her shoulder.

"Oh, Ron," Ginny said in a strangled voice when he turned to her, pulling her in for a tight hug.

"Hi, Uncle Ron," James said quietly, patting his back.

"How is she?" asked Albus, putting his arm around Lily, who hurriedly wiped away a tear. Rose clutched Hugo's arm and stared at Ron.

"I haven't been allowed in," Ron said hoarsely, looking between all of them, and Harry nodded in confirmation. "But it was a really close call. If she hadn't been at the Leaky Cauldron, with Neville and Hannah—" his throat gave a sudden pain, and he sank down into one of the waiting room armchairs.

"What happened?" Ginny asked, looking horrified.

"She was poisoned," Harry said quietly, sparing Ron the trouble of answering. "Something in her drink. Hannah's with Kingsley and a team of Aurors at the pub. Neville's gone north to tell Minerva."

Ron buried his face in his hands. Rose sat on the arm of his chair and put a hand on his back, biting her lip as tears filled her eyes.

"Mum'll be okay, Dad," Hugo said, sitting down next to him. "She will."

Ron looked up at him, trying to smile, though he seemed unable to keep the tremor out of his voice. "'Course she will," he answered. Several long moments of silence followed this, undisturbed but for a few sobs from Rose. Lily, who was sitting on the sofa beside Ginny, held out her arms, and Rose went to her, burying her face in Lily's shoulder.

Harry sighed, distressed, and turned to Ron. "I think I'll be more use if I get to the Cauldron. I'll be back in two hours, unless I hear differently," he told him, laying one hand on his shoulder. "Does that sound all right?"

"Yeah," Ron said, nodding up at him. "Go on. We'll see you soon."

"Be careful," Ginny told Harry, getting up and kissing him. "Please."

Harry nodded, kissed Lily's cheek, and rubbed Rose's back before hurrying back down the corridor. Hugo offered Ginny his seat and moved to the couch, leaning his head on Lily's other shoulder. Ginny took Ron's hand, and they all waited.

An hour crawled by. Lily leaned back against the sofa, staring at the ceiling, with Hugo on her shoulder and Rose's head in her lap. She rubbed the thick white scar on her throat with one hand, a nervous habit, and stroked Rose's hair with the other. James had moved to the floor, holding his head between his knees.

Albus sat in a chair near his mother, who was still clinging to Ron's hand. Ron himself had not moved or made a sound for nearly half an hour.

"I'm going to see if anyone else has answered the message we sent out," Ginny said gently, getting up. Ron nodded absently, not really hearing her.

A Healer hurried up. "Ginny!" she said rather breathlessly, catching her by the arms. Ron did a double take, realizing suddenly that it was Lavender Thomas. "I just got on duty and heard someone mention Hermione. This isn't my area, but can I help at all?" she asked, looking around at the family.

"Would you?" Ginny asked. Lavender nodded. "I need to know if anyone in the family's answered the messages I sent." Ginny dropped her voice. "I'm not sure I should leave Ron." She looked nervously back at him, and Ron dropped his head again.

"I'll go to the desk right now," Lavender told her, patting Ginny's arm. She bit her lip, looking at all of their miserable expressions again and raised her voice. "If there's one thing I know about Hermione, it's that she's really tough. I'm sure she'll be all right." Ginny gave her a faint, grateful smile, but Ron couldn't find it in himself to even react. "Well, I'll go and see if I can find anything out for you." And Lavender hurried away, before Ginny could even thank her.

Another half hour crept by. Lavender returned with a handful of notes from the family promising to visit the moment that they knew they would not be in the way, but she had little to say on Hermione's condition, though she had found out that Terry Boot was the Healer who was tending to her. Lavender had to return to the maternity ward, so Ginny said thank-you and came back to Ron, who had still barely moved.

It was nearly midnight. Rose had cried herself to sleep in Lily's lap, and there was a kind of tension in the air that seemed alive. Suddenly, someone cleared his throat, and everybody looked up. Lily got Rose to sit up and look at the Healer, Terry, who addressed Ron.

"She's not out of the woods yet, but she's stable for now," he said. Rose put a hand over her mouth, and Ron and Hugo stood. "Whatever this poison is, it's bad, and it works fast. We're examining it now. It did a lot of internal damage, and Hermione's going to have to spend some time here so we can keep an eye on her." He paused at the expression on Ron's face. "I can talk to you about that later. For now, she's awake, and aware, and wants to see her family."

"N-now?" Ron stammered. His voice was dry.

Terry looked at Rose and Hugo, who had joined their father. "One at a time is easiest on Hermione. Keep it brief, though," he told Hugo, to whom Ron had nodded to go first. "She's in pain, and we'll be giving her a Sleeping Draught as soon as you're done."

Hugo nodded and walked down the hallway to the room Terry pointed out. Ginny, James, Lily, and Al got up and came over to Ron.

"Are you staying here?" Ginny asked him. Ron nodded shortly, rubbing his neck as he turned to face her. "Why don't you send Rosie and Hugo with us? Lily's coming home with me for the night, and they can stay too. That way you can send us all word when she's feeling more up to visitors. I'll pass any messages along to Mum and Dad, I promise."

Ron nodded again, not meeting her eyes.

"Don't worry, Ron," she said, taking hold of his upper arms. "Hermione's strong. She's going to be fine."

At that moment, Hugo returned, looking deeply upset, but he gave Rose a look of encouragement. "She wants to see you, Rosie," he said.

Rose took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders, marching for the hospital room. Ron waited with the others, silent, but with his hand on Hugo's shoulder as he stared at the floor. Before long, Rose came back down the hall, fresh tears building in her eyes. She wrapped her arms around Ron, who kissed her hair.

"Why don't you two go with your aunt for tonight?" Ron said quietly, as Ginny, James, Al, and Lily walked a short ways down the hall. I'll Floo if anything—changes," Ron said. Rose and Hugo looked resistant. "Go get some sleep. Come back in the morning," Ron told them. "I promise, I'll send a message right away if there's…anything we need."

And, reluctantly, they left him, though Rose glanced back once or twice as Hugo held his arm around her. Ron watched the ward doors slowly stop swinging and let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

He paced a few times, then stopped, staring down the hall in the direction of Hermione's room. Then he paced a little more furiously, and stopped again. The blood was rushing around in his head, and he felt dizzy and a bit sick.

Finally, he started off towards her room.

The corridor seemed a lot longer than it should have been. His steps echoed eerily beneath the oddly gleaming crystal bubbles along the ceiling. When had all the sounds of the hospital faded away? Wasn't anyone else on the floor?

He stopped outside Hermione's door and took a deep breath. She would not see him lose control, he told himself, pushing open the door. He faltered, though, when he saw Hermione lying in the bed.

Hermione was as white as the sheets she lay in. She looked shockingly small, and somehow older than she truly was. Her face was drawn in pain and her eyes were closed. One arm lay over her middle. Her spectacles, robes, and handbag lay in a pile on a small table in the corner near her bed.

Ron's chin quivered, but he clenched his teeth hard and walked quietly around to the other side of the bed, sitting down in a small chair near her bedside. He slipped one hand into her ice-cold one.

Hermione stirred slightly, tightening her hold on his hand and opening her eyes slowly. She seemed to need a few moments to recognize Ron before a weak smile lit her face. Ron felt tears sting his eyes.

"You're…here," she said softly. It sounded as though speaking was a great effort for her.

"Of course I am," Ron told her, kissing her hand again. "Of course."

"I feel…like…a fool," Hermione said, shaking her head slightly. She was having trouble keeping her breath. "Taking…a…a drink with…without checking it…even at the Cauldron."

"You couldn't have known," Ron whispered.

"I could have…could've…lost you," Hermione said, her brown eyes full of tears, too large for her pale face.

And at last, Ron burst into tears, clutching her hand tightly. Hermione moved her fingers feebly to touch his features. She tried to smile and moved slightly on the bed to face him better, but gave a sudden, loud gasp of pain, wincing horribly and clenching her hand on her stomach. Ron got up.

"I'll find the Healer with your Sleeping Draught," he said quickly, wiping his face.

"No," Hermione said, suddenly frightened, and holding tighter to his hand. "I'll be…okay…I can wait. Just…don't…don't leave…me…all right?"

"Okay—okay, Hermione…I'm here, I'll stay right here," he told her. Hermione's eyes began to close, but she forced them open.

"Go to sleep," he insisted, reaching up to softly smooth back her hair. He could just see one of the gray streaks she had at her hairline that he usually teased her about to make her smile. "I'll stay right here."

"Don't…tell me…what to do…Ronald Weasley," Hermione said slowly, the corner of her mouth lifting. Ron gave her a watery smile and kissed her hand again.

"Mr. Weasley, were you planning on staying here tonight?" A young Healer had stuck her head into the room. "We don't normally allow—"

"That's all right, Mira," Terry Boot said, entering the room as well. "The Weasleys are old friends. I will allow Mr. Weasley to stay here tonight. I don't think it will cause any problems."

Mira blinked, looking surprised, but she nodded. "I'll see about a spare pillow or two, then."

"Thank you," Terry said, and Mira left. Then he turned to Hermione, withdrawing from his pocket a small, dark blue bottle. "Hermione, this will alleviate the pain, and it's going to put you to sleep for a while." Hermione nodded slightly, squeezing Ron's hand. "I'll be back in the morning to check on you. If you're in pain, or need anything else, don't hesitate to let us know. I mean it. We're here to help you."

"Thanks for everything, Terry," Ron said, getting up to shake his hand. Terry gave a brief smile and handed him the potion.

"That works fast. Take it soon, the whole thing," he said. "I'll see you both in the morning."

"All right," Ron said, uncorking the potion. He leaned over, kissed her cheek very softly, then straightened and held the bottle to Hermione's lips. When she had finished the potion, he replaced the cork and sat back down, picking up her hand again.

Hermione turned her head to look at Ron, her eyes starting to close. "I love…you," she said, rubbing her thumb over the back of his hand.

Ron felt tears forming again, and held on a bit tighter to her hand. "I love you, too," he said softly.

Hermione smiled.

Ron woke the next morning when a ray of sunlight streamed through the window into his eyes. He got up, feeling all his muscles and joints protest from spending the night in the chair, with his head on Hermione's bed. He stretched his back and went to close the curtains before the light could bother Hermione.

He was fully aware that if he ever voiced what he thought as he looked at her, Hermione would throttle him, but he couldn't stop himself from thinking it. She looked to be even sicker in the daylight. Her skin had taken on an almost translucent quality, and she honestly looked as though she had lost weight overnight. Even the gentle lines that were starting to crease her face looked deeper.

Hermione was wrapped under the half-dozen blankets Ron had procured for her. She had been freezing cold whenever he woke up in the middle of the night and touched her hands, and he had woken up several times. He glanced out the door, where he could just see Alexandra Morris, one of the Aurors Harry had sent to guard the room.

He sat down again, allowing himself to doze slightly for almost two hours. When his back ached, Ron got up again and walked over to the table to pick up Hermione's handbag, opening it and withdrawing her wand. He could have kicked himself for not remembering it earlier, but the wand was fortunately still there, and he slipped it into his pocket. As he did so, he saw a small picture of their family tucked into a small pocket in the bag. It had been taken about fifteen years ago; Rosie was perhaps eight, Hugo was six or so.

They'd been at the Burrow for Christmas, and Rose had had a terrible case of the flu. She spent most of the night wrapped in blankets in Molly's rocker by the fire. Merlin, she had Hermione's smile, Ron noticed yet again, as he watched his daughter laughing in her mother's lap.

He laid the photo on the table and picked up the robes, folding them haphazardly, then tucked Hermione's glasses into her bag, removing her Ministry clearance badge and coinpurse as well. He glanced over his shoulder. Hermione was still nestled among the blankets and pillows, but her eyes were half-open and looking at him. She smiled softly when Ron looked around.

"I didn't know you had this," Ron said, holding up the photograph.

"Your…mum…gave it to…me," Hermione answered slowly. Ron frowned a bit. She still sounded as though she couldn't catch her breath.

"I didn't mean to wake you," said Ron, coming to sit back down beside her. "You should rest, Hermione. Go back to sleep." He picked up her hand, rubbing her arm gently, as, without even a sound of protest, Hermione closed her eyes again, falling asleep almost instantly. He sat back, still holding her hand.

It did not occur to him right away that something was very, very wrong. Ron sat up, leaning close to her. Hermione's breathing was shallow and weak, and sweat had broken out across her forehead.

"Hermione," he said sharply. She didn't stir. "Hermione," Ron said again, a little more loudly, touching one hand to her clammy cheek. "Hermione, wake up."

Hermione's eyes fluttered, but did not open. Ron felt his stomach fall away and he ran for the door. Alexandra was startled.

"Mr. Weasley? What's—"

Ron ignored her. "Hello?" he yelled, looking all around, not caring that he was disturbing half the ward. "Somebody? Anybody? Terry? HELLO?"

One of the nurses at the desk at the end of the hall came running. Visitors were poking their heads out of rooms all down the corridor to stare at Ron.

"Sir, this is a hospital," the nurse said. "What is the matter?"

"My wife," Ron stammered.

The nurse rushed past him, and Ron followed her in. She picked up Hermione's wrist and felt for her pulse, laying her other hand on Hermione's forehead. Her expression turned grim.

"What?" Ron asked desperately. "What?"

The nurse headed for the door again. "I'm getting a Healer. Just a minute."

Ron moved to lean over Hermione again, touching her face gently. "Hermione," he said. "Come on…"

"Ron, I need you to wait outside," Terry said as he hurried into the room. "Please."

Ron nodded once and released Hermione's hand, allowing Terry and the nurse to come closer, and he stepped outside. As he waited, the nurse dashed out and back in, bringing two more Healers with her. Alexandra seemed so surprised that she could do no more than sputter in astonishment, and Ron was not inclined to explain anything. Then, after what felt like an eternity, the nurse came out of Hermione's room and addressed Ron.

"Mr. Weasley, can you please go to the waiting room?" she asked, sounding kind but rather tense.

"Why?" Ron demanded. "Tell me what's happening!"

The nurse took a step back, holding up both hands. "Your wife's experiencing a kind of latent shock reaction."

"That's impossible, I was just talking to her!" shouted Ron.

"Please, lower your voice, Mr. Weasley, we're doing everything we can," the nurse said. "I promise, one of us will be out to talk to you soon."

Ron glared fiercely at her, but through his anger, he was dimly aware that he would be removed from the ward if he did not cooperate. He marched down the hall, to the waiting area where he'd sat the night before, and began pacing.

The repetitive motion soothed his mind, and Ron began to think more clearly. Rose…and Hugo…he would send them a note. They might be on their way already, he thought, but he should write them, and Ginny as well. She could pass word along to everyone else, including Molly and Arthur. He hurried to find a nurse and asked for a quill and several pieces of parchment.

No sooner had Ron sealed the scroll than Hugo and Rose came down the hall. Rose held a bouquet of snowdrops. They almost walked past the waiting area, not seeing Ron at first. Then Hugo spotted him.

"Dad?" He and Rose hurried over. "What's wrong?" Hugo asked immediately. "What's happened?"

"I don't know yet...your mum was having trouble breathing, and they sent me out," said Ron. Rose covered her mouth with her hand. Hugo put an arm around her. "They haven't told me anything."

"Ron," Terry's voice said from behind him. Ron turned, and his heart nearly stopped at the grave look on Terry's face.

"She's not—"

"She's alive," Terry assured him. "But she's not well. This poison is really something powerful, more so than I thought. I'm going to have it fully examined as soon as Harry brings in the bottle. It's too much for the potions we were giving her before. We've altered what we need to, but her body needs time to fight it as well. She's had a second reaction to the poison, and she's unconscious. We're going to have to take it slowly for the next few days."

"Can't you wake her up?" Rose asked, her voice rising.

Terry shook his head. "I don't think that's safe. We have to just wait for her to wake on her own."

"Can we see her?" Hugo asked.

"Of course, but I should tell you that I'm having her moved to the critical care ward right now," Terry said, glancing over his shoulder. "She'll wake soon, but we need to monitor her more closely, and they're much stricter about letting overnight visitors there." This last comment was directed at Ron.

"I can't stay with her?" Ron asked, his throat dry.

Terry's eyes were sympathetic. "I'm sorry. Not until she's stable."