Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling. I own nothing of hers!

Chapter 32

The three left the British Ministry of Magic at precisely five thirty in the morning. Arriving at the Australian port at half past three. They checked in through the Australian Ministry officials while Ron made it his duty to triple check the security measures put in place. By four, they were on their way to the muggle hotel where they would be staying. They would check into the hotel, get settled, then meet her parents at a local restaurant for dinner.

Ron stared wide eyes out the window of the taxi as it took them to their destination. He's seen it before, but, the muggle world never seemed to become normal for him. It looked so much different than London, which he had only been to a handful of times. He'd been to other muggle locations as well, but they were usually the slums that housed shady scumbags.

Rose was still sleeping, as she was none too pleased at waking so early in the morning. Her head slumped over her right shoulder, jostling a touch as the car moved.

Hermione watched the pair, thankful she had them both with her. She knew this trip would be difficult for a number of reasons, and she needed their support. As they were about to reach the hotel Hermione decided to phone her Mum to let them know of her arrival.

Ron was still marveling at the sights when he heard Hermione speaking.

"Yes, we just arrived, so I figure we'd look around for a bit and then meet you at the restaurant?"

Her eyebrows furrowed as she listened to her Mum on the other side.

"What happened? Is he alright?"

Ron turned when he turned to look at the witch; her features etched with worry.

"Of course, I can. Same time?" Hermione asked, her face now slightly more relaxed. A few more moments passed in silence.

"Alright. Bye, Mum."

Hermione ended the call and sat staring at her phone for a few moments. Ron watched her take thoughtful breaths.

"Everything okay?" Ron questioned. Hermione brought her eyes up to meet his and nodded slowly.

"Dad's feeling a bit tired, so they've asked me to bring take away to the house tonight instead of going out." Hermione swallowed and watched Ron for his reaction.

"How do you feel about it? Are you alright?" Ron inquired. Hermione chewed on her lip in thought.

"I guess it just makes it more real… that he is sick and can't always do the things he used to," Hermione voiced quietly, and rested her head on the window, taking in the Australian landscape.

They arrived at the hotel, the same one Harry and Ron had occupied last time they visited. Ron took careful watch of a now energized Rose who viewed the hotel's large water display in the lobby, as the best thing she had seen yet, while Hermione checked them in. Ron was extremely thankful they had the room flooded with air conditioning, as Hermione told him, so he didn't have to set a cooling charm every time they came in. Rose was terribly warm when they were unloading the car. Luckily, she was now in a much happier mood.

They were on one of the top floors, allowing for a spectacular view. They took the lift up to their level and quickly found their room number. As Hermione entered the room, she began to unpack and find the things they would need to lay them out, ready to be used. Ron led a wary-looking Rose into the room, pulling open the curtains to show her the view out the crystal-clear window. The tot was mesmerized by all the movement outside. Ron took the opportunity to look around the room.

There was a large bed, which looked very comfortable, set against the main wall, toward the right side of the room. A settee and small dining set filled in the other half of the room. A cupboard, with a telly on top, rested on the opposite side from the bed. And one small door was to the right of the bed. Ron assumed it to be the loo. He took inventory of the room once more.

"There's only one bed," Ron commented, wondering if he was just missing where the other room was. Hermione looked up from her unpacking and brought up some clothing with her, smoothing out the wrinkles with her wand.

"Oh, well, I figured we could just share… I brought Rose's playpen that she can sleep in," Hermione continued to place the items into the cabinet, but Ron happened to catch the slight blush that painted her cheeks.

"Is that so?" Ron mused.

"It's not like we haven't shared a bed before, Ron," Hermione whispered, eyeing him as she bent over to get something particularly large out of the luggage.

Ron watched her bend over and had to stifle a groan at the sight. He glanced back at the only bed and was slightly concerned that he could keep his sanity as he tried to keep his promise to Hermione.

Hermione stepped out of the vehicle carrying Rose on her hip, the toddler now much more awake than earlier. Ron brought the take away and carried it with him to stand by Hermione.

"Ready to meet your papa and nana, Rose?" Hermione asked the tot, who looked at her mum bemused. Hermione turned toward Ron.

"Are you ready?" She asked nervously. Ron pushed his own anxiety aside and put on a confident front.

"Of course, I am. Let's go in." Ron nodded his head forward, allowing Hermione to take the lead.

Hermione walked up the three wooden steps and knocked on the white painted door on the small house, the seventh on the block. She readjusted Rose on her hip and she breathed in deeply, sneaking a quick glance back at Ron, still standing on the walkway, giving her a encouraging smile.

The door opened to reveal a woman in her fifties who had shoulder length, mahogany curls, with silver strands filtering through. Her hazel eyes were large and framed by slim glasses.

"Hermione!" Jean Granger spoke, looking at Hermione, then at the small girl she held in her arms. The older woman covered her mouth with her hand in awe, her eyes becoming wet with tears.

"Hi Mum," Hermione spoke softly, as her mother stepped forward, eyes closed, to embrace her daughter. Jean's eyes went straight to Rose, who was looking confounded in Hermione's hold.

"Rosie, this is your nana. Mum, Rosie."

Jean looked like she could hardly contain her excitement. Rose watched the woman who was speaking to her mum. She was always wary of new situations and people. Now, she was in a new place she didn't recognize, feeling very warm, and not at all happy. Her breathing picked up, as she became more distressed. Hermione reached to smooth down her sweaty curls, running the back of her hand along her cheek afterward, feeling the poor child heat up.

"Hello Rose," Jean whispered, smiling broadly at her granddaughter. She held her hands out, to hold the tot.

"No!" Rose cried as recoiled back into her Mum, tucking her face to Hermione's shoulder. As she opened her eyes, she saw Ron standing behind the pair.

"Daddy!" She called, reaching out an arm toward the tall man.

It was at this moment, Jean's eyes snapped to Ron, who was previously blocked by Hermione's small figure. He walked up the steps to his daughter, who was squirming in Hermione's hold. He passed off the food and nappy bag in exchange for the sweaty, curly haired tot, now cuddled in her father's arms.

"What is he doing here?" Jean asked surprised by the sight.

Ron adjusted Rose in his hold, as she was still wriggling uncomfortably and looked up to Jean, who was staring at him. She was no longer shocked, but, now had stern look on her face.

"Mum..." Hermione warned, returning a serious glance to her mother.

"Mrs. Granger. Nice to see you again."

Ron nodded respectfully toward the woman. Her brows furrowed and a firm grimace grew on her face. Jean looked as if she was about to say something, when Hermione jumped in.

"Can we come in, mum? Rose is clearly too warm out here." This seemed to shock Jean back to her hostess skills.

"Yes, of course."

She stepped back, and allowed plenty of room for the family to enter. They piled into the den, Hermione walked toward the kitchen quickly. Ron stopped once inside and looked around the quaint room. Ron let out a relieved breath as the room was dramatically cooler than outside. Jean quickly shut the door, swooping the last bit of lingering heat out of the house.

Ron beheld the room, looking just as he remembered it. Two settees were facing each other with a low coffee table lying in between. The room was brightly lit with sun's rays streaming in through the windows. Other than a few complete bookcases and a fully stocked china cabinet, the room was bare.

In the connected room, a circular dining table sat with several chairs surrounding it. A purple tablecloth was draped over it, with small candles in the center.

Ron lingered by the settee, scooting Rose's nappy bag higher on his shoulder as he waited to see what he should do. He didn't show it, but, Ron was nervous about being there. Although he knew the Grangers had a problem with magic, he still had a desire for them to like him. Now that he knew he was one of the reasons for Hermione's strained relationship with them, he didn't want to say anything to make it worse. Knowing his temper, he would have to keep a pair of tightly closed lips.

"Mum, would you help me with dinner in the kitchen?" Hermione asked forcefully, watching as her mum hadn't moved from her spot by the closed front door. She raised her eyebrows and nodded her head toward the kitchen door, urging her mother in. With a huff, Jean turned on the spot and walked through the door and into the kitchen. Hermione watched as the door swung closed behind her mother. Breathing deeply, she turned to Ron.

"Make yourself comfortable. It… may be a few minutes," she added warily. The young witch exited through the kitchen door.

Ron removed the bag from his shoulder and set it on the floor gently. He sat on the sofa and attempted to set Rose down as well, only to have her cling tightly to him with a whimper.

"Alright, Rosie. It's fine, love," Ron reassured her, as he began to hear a muffled conversation emitting from the kitchen. He reached into her nappy bag, quickly locating her well used, stuffed lamb, and her sippy cup. Casting a cooling charm on it, he gave it to the tot, who gratefully accepted both. She released her tight grip on his shirt and relaxed into him, taking large drinks of the cool water. Ron sat tapping his foot against the ground, as the voices grew louder in the kitchen.

"Because he cares about me! About us!"

Ron swallowed nervously at the voices muffled through the door, knowing they were talking about him. He listened closer.

"How could you bring him here? Why did you not tell us?" Jean hissed exasperated.

"This was going to be a difficult enough trip, let alone the reason I needed to come! If I would have told you, we'd have been in a row before we got here!" Hermione yelled.

"Whose fault was that? And would you keep your voice down!" Jean hissed piercingly.

Ron thought that was ironic; after all, he could hear them both through the door.

"Like he doesn't already know we're rowing about him!" Hermione laughed shrilly, causing Rose to turn her head toward the sound.

"Mummy?" Rose asked Ron, her face etched with concern.

"She's alright, Rosie." Ron comforted her, holding her a bit tighter as he listened once more. He must have missed Jean's comeback; unsure if he actually wanted to hear what the woman had to say or not.

"Mum! That's enough!" Hermione shrieked, causing Rose to become more troubled.

"I love him! He's back in my life and he's now in his daughter's! We all deserve that! If you don't like it, then that's fine. But, that is the end of it! I'll see dad, and be on my way."

Hermione's voice was approaching, and at the end of her sentence, she came back through the kitchen door walking quickly to the dining table with two plates full of food. She turned swiftly, but, Ron caught her flushed cheeks and shining eyes before setting the food on the table. She perched her hands on the cloth and took a calming breath. She turned again, now facing Ron, and gave him a flit of a smile. He was sure it was meant to be reassuring; but he knew better.

After she returned with two more trays of food, Ron approached cautiously.

"Well?" Ron quizzed, cringing as he saw her heartbroken face. He slipped his arm around her back, knowing the witch needed some relief. Hermione fell toward him resting her head on his chest, chuckling bitterly.

"Haven't been here more than an hour and we're already rowing. Just brilliant," she muffled into his shirt. He gave her a quick peck to the crown of her head and squeezed her tighter.

"It's going to be alright, love," he whispered to her hair.

At that, they heard steps approaching to dining room. The two separated as Hermione breathed deeply, attempting to prepare herself for another emotional blow. Through the door came Jean and Hugo Granger. Ron heard Hermione's breath catch as she viewed her father.

He was only in his fifties, but looked much older than that, he was pale and rolled an oxygen tank behind him. The last time Ron had seen him, he looked like any other middle aged man: tall, well built, with a head full of sandy blonde hair. Now, he looked as if he had aged fifteen years. Ron thought he'd at least shrunk a good half a foot; perhaps it was the way that he was slumped over when walking. Instead of his former weight, he was now thin and boney. His full head of hair was now bare, and covered with a cap.

"Daddy," Hermione breathed, quickly making her way toward the sickly man, embracing him firmly. A grin spread across his face as she tightened her hold on him. He carefully put his arms around her and held her close.

"Hermione," he whispered.

After a moment, she pulled back, and at hearing him wince, a panicked look crossed her face.

"Oh! Did I hurt you?" She asked hurriedly, worried that she hadn't been gentler.

"I'm fine, sweet. Just not as solid as I used to be," he joked, although no one in the room laughed. His smile dropped, seeing the concerned looks on their faces.

"I should probably sit," he muttered, and made his way to a chair at the table. Jean helped him and she toted his tank behind him. He heaved a sigh as he sat, and looked around at the people who were now taking their seats with him. Ron sat across from him at the table, with a small toddler on his lap. Hugo's eyes began to glisten as he watched the little girl with deep red curls.

"Rose, this is your papa. Dad, my darling little Rosie." Rose looked at the man who sat across from her. He had a tube running around his ears, to his nose, and back down below him. Rose's eyebrows scrunched together and she cocked her head to the side trying to figure out why he would have such a contraption on him.

"She's even more beautiful than the pictures." He whispered in awe, placing his hand over Hermione's whose rested on the table.

"Thank you, dad. She's my pride and joy," Hermione genuinely smiled at Rose sitting on Ron's lap. Rose was watching the man carefully, and was unnerved at the hissing the oxygen tank gave off. Ron tapped his foot a few times to bounce his daughter on his leg, distracting her from the muggle creation.

Hugo's eyes turned toward Ron next. He watched as the redheaded man bounced the small tot, at a brisk pace, helping to calm her nerves. His hands secured her safely, making sure she wouldn't tip from it. She twisted on his leg to face him and reached her arms up toward his face. He instantly knew what she wanted, and brought the child to his chest, her arms wrapping around his neck while swaying gently to comfort her. After a moment, he reached for her lamb and sippy cup, and readjusted her in his arms. She laid comfortably back and graciously took her items. Now, resting with her head on his bicep and cuddling her stuffed lamb toy. They flowed seamlessly together. Hugo thought to himself.

"She had your eyes, and your hair," he added after his speculation of the pair. Ron looked up from his daughter at the older man's voice, unsure if the sickly man was speaking to him. As all eyes in the room turned to him, he nodded once, glancing at Hermione, who speedily looked back at her father in shock.

"She does," Ron agreed, uncertain what to say to such an obvious comment, but, not wanting to disregard the olive branch that was extended to him.

A huff was heard from across the table. Hermione's eyes broke to her mother, glaring at the audacity of the woman who was shaking her head in disbelief.

"What a bit of luck you had, him showing up again all the sudden wanting to be a part of her life, after he walked out on you," Jean muttered, focusing on Hermione as she spoke.

Ron could see the rage build in Hermione's eyes, her brain was calculating a proper response when her father jumped in.

"Jean, let Hermione explain what happened. Perhaps it is not as we thought."

That's when the three adults looked toward Hugo in astonishment. Hermione's eyes were wide, utterly surprised by his words. While Jean looked completely taken aback, her mouth left hanging open in incredulity. Hugo turned toward Hermione and smiled gently.

"So how did things come about?" The man asked calmly.

Hermione kept staring at the man, her eyes glittering. At the silence, Ron turned toward the bushy haired witch. Hugo's eyes passed between his daughter and the two other redheads at the table.

"Hermione?"

"Of course, yea," Hermione shook her head and began explaining their complicated past very carefully, leaving out only a few details.

They served and ate their dinner as Hermione told them her story. Hugo listened quietly while Hermione spoke, often glancing at Ron and Rose. The tall ginger tucked away his meal and helped Rose with hers.

"So, I took the position in England, and have been there since," Hermione finished, winded from her explanation.

Hugo was sipping some tea, and looking methodically at his still full plate. Hermione took another bite of her dinner, while glancing toward her mum, who hadn't spoken since she started her tale. She looked bitter and irritated, which just frustrated Hermione. Her father was clearly making an effort. Why couldn't she?

"So, she's alright now?" Hugo inquired, watching the tot lovingly.

"Oh, yes! She had a checkup a few months ago, and the Healer, uh, doctor said she was perfectly healthy," Hermione provided.

Ron sniffed the air and scrunched his nose.

"Speaking of our perfectly healthy little girl, she needs a nappy change. If you'd excuse me."

He stood, holding Rose against his chest as she stayed outward from him, grabbed the nappy bag, and headed toward the loo. Leaving Hermione alone with her parents.

Hugo watched him exit the room.

"It seems he's a natural with her," her father mused. A grin spread across Hermione's face.

"He is. Even from the start he had picked things up so easily with her. He loathes that he missed so much of her life... I suppose he's trying to make up for it," Hermione filled in dreamily, as she watched the spot where he disappeared to. She was so proud of Ron; the way he was with Rose, and how he had behaved since they had arrived.

"Ridiculous."

Hermione came out of her Ron induced thoughts and brought them to the woman who was now clearing the table. The witch felt her temper rise and the need to confront her mother.

"After everything I told you! How could you still hate him?" Hermione yelled. Her mother ignored her outburst and continued to stack the plates to be cleared.

Hermione stood, whipped out her wand and sent the dishes flying past her mum to wash themselves and find their homes in the cupboards. The older woman gasped in shock as she watched the table become spotless. She turned her harsh stare to her daughter.

"How dare you use magic in this house!" Jean shrieked, eyes wide and angry.

"How dare I? How dare I use an ability I was born with? A skill that helps define who I am? I just saved you a quarter of an hour you would have wasted on-" Hermione yelled back, when Hugo stood and stopped them both.

"Please," he voiced weakly. This sobered Hermione instantly, but Jean was still ready to row.

"I-"

"Jean, please," he repeated. The couple shared a look, one pleading for the other to end the argument. Jean inhaled sharply and Hermione could have sworn she saw tears form in her hazel eyes.

"Fine. I'm headed to bed. The guest room's all set for you and Rose." She turned and began to exit the dining room.

"We will be staying at a hotel, with Ron." Hermione stated, leaving no room for argument. She watched as her mother turned her head as if listening to her response, then straighten forward again, pushing open the door.

"Fine." The door swung shut behind her.

Hermione slumped in her seat. She brought her arms to the table, crossing them, and resting her head upon the limbs. The witch was utterly upset that she let her temper get the better of her, once again. She heard her father exhale in a puff as he lowered himself carefully in the chair.

"I'll speak with her. She'll come around."

Hermione turned her head toward him, still allowing them to rest on her arms.

"How do you know?" She inquired. He breathed deeply, and smiled warmly.

"Because you're her daughter. You are a mum now. I see how much you love your little girl. She loves you the same." Hermione pondered the thought.

"Why have you come around?" She whispered. His eyes searched his daughter's face for a few moments before he answered.

"When you're this close to dying, you start feeling as if you should make all your wrongs, right."

Tears formed in Hermione's eyes as she listened to her father speak.

"After you left, I started to see just how grown up you had become, well before you should have. You were leaving us, and the knowledge that you chose magic-"

"But, I didn't choose magic over you! I could have you both." Hermione cried, her tears pouring on to her cheeks. Her father leaned forward and rested his hand upon her cheek gently.

Hermione poured more tears at the familiar gesture. She had remembered back when he used to do comfort her when she was a child. One time, the neighborhood children called her odd and weird, saying that she'd never fit in with them, and would never have any friends. She came inside as quickly as she could, not wanting them to see her tears. As soon as her front door shut, she collapsed on the settee, face first and desperately tried to keep her sorrows internal. Yet, the tears slid down her rosy cheeks no matter how much she desperately tried. Being the kid who didn't fit in was difficult. Much more so than adults understood. But, her father came to her; brushed back her wild curls and cradled her cheek, wiping her tears away, and asking her what the matter was.

It was hard to believe how much she had been through since then.

"I know that now, sweet girl." He brushed her curls back feebly.

"It'll all be worked out, in the end. You'll see." Hermione closed her eyes as more tears leaked out. Her dad leaned forward and kissed her temple.

Moments later, Ron rounded the corner with Rosie in tow, as she held tightly to his fingers.

Hermione sat up and wiped the remaining tears from her face, pulling her curls back and trying to recompose herself.

"Ron, would you so kindly help me up the stairs?" The older man asked, as he rose from the chair. Hermione instantly stepped by him and steadied him as he swayed. Ron agreed, and went to his side. Hermione hugged him, more cautiously this time, but still emitting her thanks to him. She watched as he said goodnight to Rose, and took ahold of Ron's steady arm to lead him upstairs.

A/N: Thank you for reading. Don't forget to review! Just a reminder that the last day to vote in the Romione Awards on Tumblr is today! More to come!