When I Have You - A Ron/Hermione Fanfic

Where all the chapters of the fic 'When I Have You' will be published. Full credit to nami64 on deviantart for the banner. Full credit to viria13 on deviantart for the avatar

[whenihaveyouromione]

When I Have You - Chapter 102

(commissioned from @elyonblackstar.art on Instagram)

This was originally chapter 100, hence the difference, but then it changed. This is still my favourite chapter.

Lyrics from "First Times" by Ed Sheeran, a song he wrote about his wife :)

Read on ao3 or Fanfiction.net.

---

Chapter 102

~~~

Ain’t it funny how the simplest things in life can make a man,

Little moments that pass us by

~~~

“Woah!” Ron’s jaw was on the floor and he couldn’t quite pick it back up again. Hermione had told him that tonight was black-tie style dress — which, in Muggle terms, meant really fancy clothes — but she’d not informed him that what she planned to wear to the event was a very elegant — very low-cut, he noted with a grin — black dress that he never would have pictured her ever wearing. She’d curled her hair, its usual bushiness gone, and she’d even put on makeup. She looked absolutely stunning and he found it difficult to take his eyes off her. 

Hermione smiled at his reaction, but a moment later, she looked down. “Is it too much?” she asked, suddenly sounding uncertain. “It’s not something I’d usually wear, but —”

“Absolutely not!” Ron said firmly. “You look great. No… that’s not the right word. You look so, so beautiful, and that’s saying something, because I really do think you look beautiful all the time.”

Her lips curved up into a smile, her cheeks tinging pink. 

“Though,” Ron said, a smile forming on his own face, “I do think it would look better off you. If you know what I mean.”

“I always know what you mean, Ron,” Hermione answered dismissively. “And one day, you’ll have to be careful of what you say around our daughter.” She stepped closer to him, taking Rose from his arms. She was looking very drowsy, the time nearing seven-thirty in the night.

This was going to be the hardest part for them. Rose was spending her first night away from them. Well, just a few hours, really. It had been Hermione’s idea, but he knew there was some regret in her decision to have her parents look after Rose while they enjoyed a night out together. 

It was their anniversary. Four years being married, and almost eight years together. It was a special night, Ron knew that, and he wanted to make the most of it.

“She’s good to go,” he said gently. He didn’t want to show his own hesitations about leaving Rose behind, because if he did, then Hermione would probably change her mind. They’d at first contemplated bringing her parents here, so at least Rose would be somewhere familiar. But, Ron had then reasoned that they could just pick her up on the way home. They were heading into London anyway. 

Now, though, he was pretty confident that he’d be bringing Hermione home before they did anything else, because they had very little time these days to be alone, especially when Rose slept in the same room as them. They’d had to get creative. 

Hermione nodded. “I guess we should go then.”

“Yep.” Ron guided her to the fireplace, his hand on her back, which — to his delight — showed a lot of skin. He grinned. 

“Stop smiling,” Hermione said, though she wasn’t facing him.

“How’d you know I was smiling?” Ron asked, dropping his hand. 

“Because I know you,” Hermione answered. “The moment I put a nice dress on, you’re all over me.”

“I’m always all over you.”

“I’m holding our daughter,” she reminded him, though there was amusement in her voice above anything else. “Once we drop her off at Mum and Dad’s, you have me all to yourself.”

“Alright,” Ron said. He picked up a handful of Floo powder and tossed it into the fireplace. “You go first.”

Hermione cast him a very amused look, but she did as he requested, her hand over Rose’s head to shield her from any ash. When she was gone, Ron followed, still grinning to himself. 

The other side was a very calm and peaceful atmosphere. Robert and Jane had known of their hesitation about leaving Rose, and so they were not showing what Ron could only imagine to be pure delight at having their granddaughter to themselves for a few hours. 

“Wow, Hermione, you’ve dressed up well,” Robert commented as Ron stepped out from the fireplace. He’d already cast anti-stain charms all over his suit, and he was pleased to see he’d performed it effectively. “As your dad, I am not sure I approve.”

“My husband approves,” Hermione said, smiling. 

Robert flashed an amused look Ron’s way, and Ron was very proud of himself at how well he hid just how much he approved. “I bet he does,” Robert muttered. 

Ron passed a bag full of Rose’s things to Jane.  

“And everything’s in there?” she asked, accepting it. 

“Yes. There’s three bottles,” Hermione said. “You hopefully will only need two, but there’s three just in case. She’ll probably sleep until about midnight, which is when we aim to get home.”

“So early?” Robert asked. 

“The show goes until eleven, so we’ll give ourselves an extra hour, just in case. We may even be back earlier.”

“Well, don’t hurry back,” Jane said. “The two of you haven’t had a night out in a long time, and it’s your anniversary. If you’ve packed an extra bottle for her, then you can probably stay out a little longer. When do we need to feed her again?”

“In about an hour,” Hermione said. “Then again when she wakes around midnight. And then… maybe again if we’re not back.”

Ron knew that wasn’t going to be the case. As much as he wanted to enjoy their night, he didn’t think they’d cope much longer than their allocated time away from their daughter. 

Jane smiled, her eyes on Rose. Her smile turned sympathetic when Hermione hesitated handing her over. 

“She’ll be well-loved here, Hermione,” Robert assured her. “You kids enjoy yourselves.”

Hermione kissed Rose’s cheek, and then with very heavy reluctance, she passed Rose over to her dad. “Bye, sweetheart,” she choked. “We’ll be back soon, I promise.”

Rose watched her, smiling. 

“See you, Rosie,” Ron said, stepping forward and tickling her under the chin. “You be good, alright?”

Rose gave him a smile, too, and before either of them could change their minds, he slid his hand into Hermione’s and led her to the door. There was a bus stop just down the road which led straight into the city. 

Ron closed the door behind them, wincing at the last sound they heard — Rose’s cries. 

“Oh,” Hermione said, pulling her hand away. “I feel so awful. She doesn’t understand. She probably thinks we’re abandoning her —”

Ron stepped toward her, a hand on each of her shoulders and kissed her. “She will be okay,” he said calmly. “Let’s enjoy our night together because we won’t get many of these moments. I want to celebrate being married to you.”

Rose could still be heard, even though they were standing out the front.

“Let’s go,” he said, taking Hermione’s hand again. “Before my resolve breaks and I go back in there again.”

Hermione seemed to appreciate his honesty. She smiled and squeezed his hand. “Let’s go,” she said. 

~~~

The first kiss, the first night, the first song that made you cry

~~~

Ron was certain he’d never set foot in such a fancy place again. This was something Hermione had organised, telling him she’d splurged considering this was the best year they’d had so far. They were attending dinner and a show — of what, Ron had no idea and didn’t really care about. He was just excited to be spending an evening with his wife, without them having to worry about a baby.

Though, worry they still did, even if neither of them mentioned it. Ron had set that rule on the bus ride over. He wanted tonight to be about them. Every other day of their lives was about Rose. 

The foyer was crowded with other couples, all dressed up like them. Hermione didn’t look out of place at all, though she was still the most beautiful. Ron couldn’t take his eyes off of her, or remove the smile from his face. People dressed in tuxedos came around offering free drinks, and Ron accepted a glass of wine, regretting it the moment he had the first sip. 

“You have it,” he said, choking down the bitter taste and handing it to Hermione.

“I can’t,” Hermione said. “I’m not comfortable drinking alcohol while breastfeeding.”

“Oh, right.” Ron looked around for a place to subtly dispose of the glass, but couldn’t find any. Everyone else was drinking slowly from their glasses. “I don’t know why I always think it’s going to be better the next time,” he told Hermione. “Goblin-made wine is much better.”

“Well, unfortunately they don’t sell that to Muggles,” Hermione replied. She smiled so brightly, and Ron’s heart swelled. 

“You are so bloody amazing, you know that right?” he said to her.

“That’s just because you like what I’m wearing.”

Ron chuckled. “I will freely admit that what you’re wearing is doing amazing things to me right now, but I really didn’t mean it like that. You know I love you no matter what you’re wearing. You know I love you.”

“I know.” Hermione stepped forward, her body pressing against his, arms around his neck and she kissed him. Her lips were so soft and tender and he was pleasantly reminded of their very first kiss and the thrill he’d felt at having her finally. It felt so long ago now, and so many kisses ago, but it would always remain his favourite.

He held her waist, ensuring she didn’t pull away too soon, but his hands slowly crept up her sides, reveling in the silky smoothness of her dress. He moved them to her back, feeling her exposed skin, but that was too much for him. He groaned, breaking the kiss before he got too carried away in a very public place. 

Hermione stepped back, seeming rather pleased with herself, and to his utter relief, an announcement sounded from somewhere that the doors were now open. 

Hermione dug into her small bag and pulled out two tickets. “Ready to go in?” she asked. 

“Please,” Ron replied, his voice strained. 

Hermione was laughing silently at him, he could tell, but she turned and walked toward the door, offering her hand for him to take. 

They were led to a beautiful table set for two, somewhere in the middle of the room. It was dark in there, but each table had a candle in the centre, creating a romantic atmosphere. 

Once seated, Ron immediately reached for Hermione’s hands. “Do you remember the first time you kissed me?” he asked. 

Hermione’s eyes widened at the sudden question, but she soon relaxed and nodded. “It’s hard to forget.”

“It’s hard to imagine just how far we’ve come since then,” Ron said. “All the things we’ve done together, all the things we’ve achieved… it all started there, didn’t it?”

Hermione gave a small smile. “I think it would have happened after that, if it didn’t then.”

Ron laughed quietly. “You’re probably right. I was quite in love with you at that point. I’m glad you made the first move, though.”

“Would you have? Made a move if I hadn’t, I mean?”

Ron paused before answering. This was something he’d thought about occasionally over the years. His answer always changed, but he nodded. “Yeah,” he said finally. “I think I eventually would have. It just would have been after I went through every possible scenario in my head to figure out what the best move would be and it may have taken me years to work it out.”

Hermione laughed. 

You find that funny?” Ron questioned, grinning at her. 

“Well… yeah,” she said. “Because aren’t I usually the one to run through every scenario in my head and you the one to act without thinking?”

“Which is why I’m glad you decided to do it that way for once,” Ron replied. 

Hermione smiled. “Tell me, have you thought about it? Did you reach a conclusion on what your preferred method of winning me over would have been? I’m curious.”

“Does it matter?” Ron asked. “It didn’t happen that way.”

“I want to know.”

“I dunno. How much would I have had to win you over?”

“You probably would have just had to have held my hand and I would have thrown myself at you.”

Ron returned her smile. “So, it wouldn’t have been all that different.”

“Tell me.”

“Alright, well, if it reached a point where nothing was happening with us and I felt I needed to make the move, I think I would have asked you out. While stammering over the question in sheer terror of what your answer might be.”

“You mean out on a date?”

“Yeah. You sound disappointed. It’s not as fun as throwing yourself at someone in the middle of the war, is it?”

“I think it’s a very Ron thing to do. I would have been flattered. And I, of course, would have said yes.”

“I like the way it happened better. I think back on that moment very fondly.”

Hermione’s eyes drifted to their entwined hands. She didn’t speak for a long time. Ron relished in the peacefulness, tuning out the chatter surrounding them and focusing solely on the woman next to him. 

“I think that was the moment I knew.” When she spoke again, her voice was barely a whisper.

“Knew what?” Ron asked, though he could guess. He’d had the same feelings in the same moment. That kiss — their first kiss — had erased every doubt in his mind and he’d never been more certain of anything when she’d been in his arms. 

She looked up, a look of complete joy on her face. “That we’d end up here. Married. With a child. Just… happy. It just felt —”

“Right,” Ron finished. 

“I knew in that moment, that if we survived the war, then we weren’t going to look back, we weren’t going to question anything. I could feel it in you, too. You just knew as well.”

“I knew it without a doubt,” Ron confirmed. “Our friendship was over.”

Hermione laughed. “Yeah, we ruined that, didn’t we?”

“But I will admit,” Ron said, “I did have some doubts.”

Hermione looked at him curiously, so he hurried on to explain. “Not about you, not about… us… not really. They came around the time you said you wanted to have sex with me. That panicked me more than I let on.”

“I know,” Hermione said. “You were pretty nervous that night. But you lost those nerves pretty quickly, though, if I remember correctly. I recall you being on me pretty quickly again after that first time.”

“Ha! Yeah. Yeah, I was…” He paused, thoughtful, trying to figure out how to word what he wanted to say. “That just felt like the point of no going back for us. I worried that if we did that together, we’d find it was actually awkward moving from friends to lovers, but then being friends would feel awkward after being so intimate.” He looked up, noticing her amused expression. “That makes sense, right?”

“It does,” she assured him gently. She frowned slightly. “Can you believe I didn’t actually think about that? I never even contemplated that it might be awkward, or weird —”

“And it definitely wasn’t,” Ron assured her. “And once I realised that, then I never looked back. But… at the time, I just thought if it didn’t work out for whatever reason, then I’d lose you entirely — as my girlfriend, but also as my friend.”

By the look on Hermione’s face, it was obvious that she was only now just realising that what he said could have been a real possibility. Thankfully, it hadn’t worked out that way, but the thoughts hadn’t seemed to cross her mind until this very moment. She confirmed that by saying, “I’m so glad you’re only telling me this now.”

Ron laughed. “Yeah, well… my mind might have been telling me that, but the rest of me was pretty keen, so I wasn’t going to think too hard on it in the end. I knew that if I said anything, you would have taken the high road and said we should wait, and I didn’t want that either.” 

“Sounds like a confusing time for you,” Hermione said, amused.

“Oh, it was,” Ron assured her. “I both wanted to be with you in a sex way, and didn’t want to ruin anything between us.”

Hermione flashed another smile before her expression turned serious. “Ron, I do hope you know just how much I love you.”

“Of course I know.” He squeezed her hands in assurance. 

“No, but… I know I’m not always the best at expressing my feelings. You’re so open, and I’m just a little more guarded. I know sometimes it can come across to you — and maybe others — that my feelings for you don’t always match your feelings for me. That’s not true at all, you know that, right? I’m just not as good as expressing them openly like you are.”

Ron nodded, sensing she felt a little saddened by her confession. Though, he’d never thought he was great at expressing how he felt, he just had a terrible time at hiding it, too. “Yeah, I know that. And don’t worry about it, I have no filter. You know that. I say things without thinking. It’s a curse.”

“You’re my happy place, my safe place, my everything and I’m so very appreciative of it all. It just… I guess it overwhelms me a lot of the time, to feel so much for one person that it leaves me with no words to express it. But… I fell in love so young, and I just never fell out, and… I just love you, Ron. So much.”

Ron’s heart just about leapt out of his chest. “Please stop talking,” he begged. “Because if you don’t, well, I might just do something I shouldn’t do with so many people around. 

Hermione laughed. 

He leaned down to kiss her, deepening the kiss enough to let her know that he loved her, too, but not enough to draw attention to them. “And don’t forget,” he said, his lips near her ear, “you were the one to say you loved me first. I’ll never forget that.”

That had her cheeks turning red, her hands tightening around his. He extracted one hand and rested it on her knee. She melted at his touch, which pleased him. 

“It’s amazing to discover the things that have made me happiest in life,” he said to her. “Growing up, I wanted the glory. I wanted to be Quidditch captain, to be Head Boy, to… be an Auror. I wanted to be recognised. It was my dream.

“But, you know what I think of when someone asks me what my happiest memories are? The things I think of when I conjure a Patronus? Asking you to marry me, actually marrying you, the birth of our daughter. Those are the best moments of my life, my greatest achievements. I wish I could go back and tell my eleven year old self to not worry about all those things I worried about — to tell him that none of what you want is going to make you happy, but you’ll find happiness in the simpler things. That the best job in the world is being a dad to a little girl that you will love more than your own life itself. And that that girl you met on the train, the one that annoys the pants off you, that maybe you need to be nicer to her, because one day she is going to make you happier than winning any Quidditch Cup ever could.”

“Not that you’re going to fall hopelessly in love with that girl?” Hermione teased. 

“Eleven-year-old Ron wouldn’t have been able to handle such information,” Ron said. “He was far too immature for that.”

Hermione smiled. 

“But I do wish I could just tell myself that it’s the simple things that will end up making me the happiest. I wish someone had.”

Hermione laid her head on his shoulder. “And maybe if you’d known all that, we wouldn’t be here now.”

“No, maybe not. Not sure I would have believed it, to tell you the truth, though.”

The lights dimmed after that and all talking ceased. Ron moved his arm to fold around her waist, drawing her even closer to him. 

And somehow, as he sat there with her, he realised that his heart really did have the space to love her just that little bit more than he did yesterday.

~~~

The greatest thing that I have achieved

Is four little words, down on one knee

~~~

Ron felt at peace when the show ended. He’d enjoyed it, and the food had been delicious. And to his surprise, neither of them had mentioned Rose. They truly had enjoyed their time together, it being just the two of them. Rose was probably sound asleep in the small portable cot Hermione’s parents had gotten, happy to have some new people to play with. 

They left the theatre hand-in-hand, smiling. 

“I really enjoyed tonight,” Hermione said as they made their way down the street. 

“Me too,” Ron said. “Another moment to add to my bank of growing favourite memories.”

Hermione smiled. “I almost don’t want it to be over.”

“It’s not,” Ron said, and he stopped — the place deliberate — and turned to face her, grinning at her.

“I’m not sure I like that look on your face, Ron,” she said warily. 

“There’s one more memory I have from our life together. And I’m very fond of it.”

That didn’t abate Hermione’s wariness at all. It increased it, if anything.

“And what might that be?” she asked.

Ron’s grin broadened and he nodded to his right. Hermione turned her head, both of them now staring down a dark alley. 

Hermione frowned. “It’s a rubbish alley,” she said. 

“It’s not a rubbish alley. It’s an alley, and I have very fond memories of you pulling me into one once.”

“Oh, Ron,” Hermione said, finally catching on. “We don’t… we’re a lot older now. I’m not as… well, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

But she didn’t protest too hard when Ron tugged on her hand and pulled her into it. The benefit this time, was it was dark and no one would see them, even if they walked past. 

He backed her up against the wall, enclosed in the dark entirely, and by the time he brought his mouth to hers, she was kissing him back. She flung her arms around his neck, forcing his body against hers. 

This was going to be the last time in many more months before they got to be so close for such a long time again, and he wanted to savour every moment with her. But he also wanted to tear that dress from her body, because as good as it looked on her, he knew it looked better on the floor. 

He settled for dropping one strap down her arm, just to see how far he could get with her before she stopped him. He trailed his lips along her jaw, down her neck and to her shoulder. She, surprisingly, held him tighter, allowing him to kiss her. 

So, he tried the other strap, and kissed her there, too. He did that for a long while before her hands slid away from his neck and he thought that this was it. As much as she was enjoying it, the knowledge that there were people nearby had gotten to her and she didn’t want to go further. 

But her hands didn’t push him away. They moved to his waist, and then to the belt buckle of his suit pants. He slid the straps of her dress down further, fingers trailing her skin. 

“I’ve missed you,” he murmured against her neck. “Merlin, I’ve missed you.” He pressed against her, suddenly even more desperate than he’d been before. 

He was surprised just how far she was taking this. She’d managed to get his buckle open, though she didn’t go any further than that, instead allowing him to kiss every part of her exposed skin. 

After a while, he reached behind her, feeling for the zip of her dress, and finally, he felt the hands that he’d expected long ago, push him away. 

“Stop, Ron,” she said, her voice filled with apologies. 

He dropped his hands, pressing his forehead against hers. 

“I thought I could do it, but —”

“Let’s go home,” he said gently. 

She nodded, and he held her tightly, reaching with one hand to take out his wand. He Apparated them both home, where Hermione was much more willing to allow him to unzip her dress and have it fall to the floor. 

~~~

The first look in your eyes when I said, "I love you.”

~~~

It was well after midnight, nearing one, when they Floo’d back to Hermione’s parents’ place. Both of them were awake, the lights in the living room on and the television going at a low level. 

Both looked surprised to see them come through the fireplace rather than the door. 

“Didn’t get the bus back?” Robert asked with a knowing look. He then looked them over. “That’s not what you were wearing when you left.” They’d changed into something more comfortable after they’d pulled themselves out of bed. 

Hermione flushed, but didn’t bother giving a response. 

Ron grinned. 

“How was she?” Hermione then asked, changing the subject quickly. 

“Oh, perfect,” Jane said. “Cried a little after you left, but she settled pretty quickly and was all smiles after that.” She smiled herself, as if reliving a very fond memory. “We had no issues getting her to sleep. Was out like a light after we gave her a bottle, changed her… oh, she was a delight.”

“That’s our Rosie,” Ron said proudly, noticing the smile forming on Hermione’s lips too. She’d done a lot of smiling tonight as they remembered how they’d reached this moment, the best part of their lives, but it never got old. 

“Did you two have fun?” Jane then asked. “How was the show?”

“Tonight was amazing,” Hermione answered. “The show was great, but it was just nice to actually spend some quality time together. We did a lot of reflecting, thinking back to the moment that got us here. It was lovely.”

Ron nudged Hermione affectionately, and her eyes glistened with love. 

“Where is she?” Ron then said. “I’ll go and get her.”

“We put her in the spare room upstairs,” Jane said. “We fed her at midnight, and she went straight back down.”

While Hermione began to explain to her parents about the show, which really had been the least thrilling part of their night, but the safest one to talk to her parents about, Ron went to get Rose. He entered the room quietly, smiling at the sound of her even breathing. 

He bent down to pick her up, begging her to stay asleep. She did, her only sign of disturbance being a grunt.

He carried her back downstairs, treasuring her tiny body against his, so warm and fragile and perfect.

Hermione smiled at him and then she came over to peer at Rose.

“Thank you,” she said to her parents. “We really appreciate it.”

“Our absolute pleasure,” Jane said. “She was a delight.”

Hermione smiled again and then, with Ron still holding Rose close to him, she set up the Floo connection. 

Ron indicated that she should go first, that he was okay to follow. 

She obliged. For a moment, he simply stood there, staring at the space she’d been a moment ago. And then Rose stirred against him and he was reminded again of just how simple his life was now, and that he wouldn’t have it any other way.

~~~

I can't wait to see everything that's yet to be

Our first child, and then a million more first times

~~~

[whenihaveyouromione]

When I Have You - Chapter 101

Read on Fanfiction.net or ao3 as well.

---

Chapter 101

Rose’s smile filled Ron with so much joy. It was something he was unable to find the right words for. It was just a feeling that made his heart swell and for him to feel things that he didn’t even know he was capable of feeling. 

Over the years, Hermione had already pushed those boundaries, his love for her growing every day. But Rose… Rose had completely broken down and disintegrated all those barriers of what he thought he could feel. She’d completely and utterly changed the definition of love for him from the moment she’d entered this world.

And every day, it was something new. Every day, she’d grow and change. She’d do something they hadn’t seen before, learn a new skill. At three-and-a-half months old, she was already showing that she was desperate to be on the move. She wriggled and rolled so much now it was almost difficult to keep up with her. She’d be in one place one moment, and then the next she’d be at the other end of the room. 

“She’s going to start crawling soon,” Hermione had said one afternoon as they watched her attempt to wriggle herself towards a toy. There was a brief moment where it looked as if she was trying to push herself onto her knees. 

“No, she’s far too little,” Ron had answered, ignoring what he was seeing with his own eyes. 

There was a baby book Hermione kept in the living room, picking it up every so often to refer to one thing or another. She did that then, flipping to a page. “Well, it says here they can start crawling from as young as four months.”

Ron watched his daughter, feeling a mix of pride and worry. He was thrilled to see that she was thriving. She was such a happy baby, she ate well, she was active. Sleep was still an issue, but nothing out of the ordinary, he thought. At the same time, the last three and a half months had been the best of his life, and the fastest. He’d watched his nieces and nephew grow, watched how big they’d gotten. James really did crawl around now at tenth months old and he got into everything. Ron had witnessed with his own eyes how nothing in Harry and Ginny’s house was safe from his curious little hands. 

But James hadn’t crawled until a month ago. He’d been perfectly stationary and happy to be so. 

Rose could at least give them a few more months. 

Now, he watched her on her play mat by the breakfast table as he made himself a coffee. She’d long since grown unsatisfied with the restraints of the bouncer that kept her safe, insisting that they put her on the ground.

She smiled at one of the many toys she’d collected in the two weeks since her dad had started working at the joke shop. It moved around the floor, singing, and she turned on her tummy, following it with her eyes. 

Her little face warmed him more than any coffee could and he smiled, watching her.

“You’ll make a great Quidditch player one day, Rosie,” he said. 

At the mention of her name (or the sound of his voice, Ron hadn’t quite worked it out), her eyes drifted towards him, grin widening. 

“Maybe I can teach you how to play young. That way, when you get to Hogwarts you’ll be a superstar.” He smiled at the thought, though he was disinclined to think too far into the future considering he was already bothered by the fact that the first three and a bit months with her were already over. But he’d be incredibly proud if his little girl was to make the Quidditch team in her first year. No one had done that since Harry. 

Rose’s attention drifted back to the toy.

“On second thoughts,” he said, “you’ll probably do much better if your Aunt Ginny was to teach you. You’d probably get free lessons and have much better success.”

The thought of his daughter being a great Quidditch player in the future brought another smile to his lips. She was part Weasley, which meant she’d probably be decent, though she’d unfortunately lucked out in the area of having him for her dad. Aside from Percy, who flat out refused to get on a broom, he was probably the least skilled of all his siblings. Hermione insisted he was good and he just let his lack of confidence get in the way, but Ron knew that wasn’t entirely true. 

Part of being a great Quidditch player meant you needed to have a lot of confidence. And he didn’t.

James, Ron thought, would walk his way onto the team when his time came. And with any luck, Rosie would not inherit Ron’s lack of confidence and join her cousin (or play against him if that were to be the case). 

But he had many years to go before that happened and Ron hoped that time would just slow down a little so his wish didn’t come into fruition too quickly. 

She was perfectly happy to play on the floor of their kitchen for the time being. 

His watch said ten minutes to five o’clock, which meant Hermione would be home in about twenty. Over the few weeks that Ron had been with Rose and Hermione had been at the Ministry, she’d made a big effort to get home on time. Ron had joked at the time, telling her that she just didn’t trust him to take care of Rose without her supervision. Though, he knew it was more because she didn’t want to miss any time with Rose. 

She was incredible, and Ron made a point of telling her that when he could. She seemed so on top of managing parenthood and working and he admired her for it. She gave Rose so much time and attention when at home, and gave her all to her job between nine and five, five days a week. 

How she did it, he’d never know. 

Ron’s eyes flicked to Rose again, who was still being entertained by the toy. “I think she’ll be surprised to see us home early today,” he commented to his daughter (who he was well aware could not respond to him). 

After working tirelessly for two weeks at the shop, he’d — for the first time — taken advantage of being the boss and left at four-thirty. Oswald was proving to be a reliable employee and Ron trusted him and the other girl — Isla — to set up for the weekend. 

It gave himself time to actually sit down, drink a cup of coffee, and it gave Rose some additional time to move. 

And then Hermione would come home and they’d need to get ready for dinner with Harry and Ginny. What had once been a common gathering had dropped off significantly since they each had children. These days, it was all about routine and being home in time for bed. 

He savoured the coffee, drinking it in small sips and reheating it with his wand whenever it got too cold. 

He’d just about finished when he heard Hermione arrive via the Floo. He was hoping to surprise her, but there was no way she would not have heard the loud squeal of delight from Rose as the toy nudged her nose.

“Ron?”

“Nice one, Rosie,” Ron said cheerfully. “Remind me not to take you to any surprise parties. In the kitchen!” he called.

A moment later, Hermione came into the kitchen, her eyes flittering from Ron to Rose on the floor. “You’re home,” she said, sounding surprised.

“Yes,” Ron said brightly. “The benefit of being the boss, right?” He grinned as she came over to kiss him. 

Her mouth turned up into a small smile. “Yes, very. How was your day?”

Ron shrugged. “Busy. Never isn’t busy. You’d think people would get sick of buying stuff, but nope. Seamus came in today.”

“Oh, that would have been nice,” Hermione answered. “It must be getting close to the baby being born now.”

“Yeah,” Ron said. “Seamus said only a few more weeks.”

“That’s so exciting.” But Hermione didn’t sound excited. She frowned, and Ron realised her attention wasn’t on him. 

“What is it?” Ron asked. 

Hermione jumped, looking back at him. “Oh, nothing, I just… it’s funny that you ran into Seamus today, and he’s about to have a baby…”

“Why?” Ron questioned, confused as to where she was going with this. He didn’t think it was funny that Seamus had come into the shop, or that he was about to become a dad. 

“Well… did you ever hear that Malfoy had a baby?”

For a moment Ron didn’t speak, but then he said, “What?”

“Last November,” Hermione said. “Before Rose. And he never said anything. I mean… we don’t exactly talk, but he didn’t even mention it or anything. Never asked for time off…”

Ron shrugged. “Did you ask?”

“No. I didn’t even know. Not until today, when he mentioned his son in passing. Said that was why he was late. ‘Sorry, my son was sick.’ And that was it.”

Ron shrugged again. “How’d you know it was last November?”

“Because Maia asked him and he told her. I overheard. It just seems strange, doesn’t it? That he didn’t even bother to mention that his wife had a baby. Or didn’t ask for any time off? Wouldn’t he want to spend time with his child?”

At that, Ron laughed. “It’s Malfoy you’re talking about, Hermione. He’s probably hired someone to look after the kid and goes about his business like it doesn’t exist. Isn’t that what Malfoy’s parents did with him? The saddest part in all this is that our Rosie is going to have to put up with a Malfoy when she goes to Hogwarts. He’ll be in her classes and everything.”

Hermione didn’t speak for a moment, apparently incredibly bothered by the fact that Malfoy didn’t feel the need to tell her about his own child. If Ron was being honest, he didn’t actually blame Malfoy. Why would he? It wasn’t like she had told him anything about Rose. 

“Come on,” Ron said, “let’s get ready for this dinner and talk about kids we actually care about.”

Hermione seemed to snap out of whatever she was thinking, smiling again. “You know,” she began, “tonight just might take today’s baby count up to three.”

“What do you mean?” Ron said quickly, worried. He tried to do a quick calculation in his head, but nothing came to him. Hermione couldn’t be pregnant again, could she? It had taken them forever to get Rose. And he loved her with all his heart, but he wasn’t quite ready for another kid. Not now. “Are you —” he said, hesitant.

“What?” Hermione almost laughed. “No!” She laughed again. “No, I was talking about Harry and Ginny.”

“What?”

Hermione shrugged. “Well, last year, Ginny was talking about her return to Quidditch this year. She was incredibly excited about going back. She is meant to be going back in March, and March is only a few weeks away. She hasn’t gone to a single training session. She hasn’t been away… only one thing kept her away from Quidditch last time, and that was James.”

For a moment, Ron stared at her, his mouth slightly open. Then he shook his head, partly impressed at how perceptive Hermione was and how ridiculous her comment sounded. She was right, of course. Ginny hadn’t made mention once this year about going back to playing Quidditch, when last year it was all she talked about. She hadn’t been to any practices and Harry hadn’t said anything about her being away. Ron knew that he would have, if she had, because he would have been left looking after James on his own.

But, she couldn’t be pregnant again. 

“James is only ten months old,” he blurted out. 

Hermione shrugged. “You and Ginny aren’t that far apart in age,” she reminded him. “It’s possible.”

“Yes, but…” 

“Well, I could be wrong,” Hermione said. 

“But you don’t think so?” Ron replied. He glanced back down at Rose, imagining her at James’ age. She was already showing signs of wanting to move more and the thought of having another baby so soon almost horrified him. He adored his daughter, but he was happy with just her. At least for the time being. A very long time being, he thought. 

Hermione seemed to know what he was thinking, for she said, a smile on her face, “Don’t worry, if that’s the case, I’m not going to get any ideas for us.”

Ron looked back at her. “Thank Merlin.”

Hermione laughed.

“Well, I suppose we should go over then. Let them break the news to us…”

Hermione bent down to pick up Rose. “Hello, sweetheart,” she said, kissing Rose’s cheek. “Did you have a good day today?”

“As always,” Ron replied. “She flashes a smile and the customers just hand over their money.”

“So, you’re using her as a sales pitch, then?”

“No. They just see her and they can’t resist.” 

Hermione bit back a smile, which meant she wasn’t too upset by it. “When did you last change her? Maybe we should change her before we go.”

Ron thought back to his day. They’d been quite busy, and he remembered at around three o’clock telling Oswald he just needed to tend to Rose for a moment and if he could watch things. But then that kid had knocked over the Skiving Snackboxes, and then Rose had fallen asleep, and then… and then he’d gone home. And not changed her. The last time had been around midday.

Guilt swept over him in a way that he’d never felt before. “Oh, Merlin, Hermione… not since midday. She’s been…”

Rose flashed him a smile, which he probably didn’t deserve right now. How had he forgotten such basic care for his daughter?

“It’s alright,” Hermione said. “I’ll go and do it now.” She left the room, talking to Rose all the way down the hall, leaving Ron to wonder if she was angry with him for forgetting. 

He’d never forgotten before. In fact, he’d slid into his routine with her so easily that it had become habit. At busy times, she was strapped to his chest, during quieter periods she was out the back with the toys where Ron could keep watch of her. Every two hours, he routinely fed and changed her. But that kid… he’d caused Ron to forget. After he’d cleaned up the mess and told the apologetic father not to worry, he’d gone back to feed her, because forgetting to feed a hungry baby wasn’t possible, but he’d then just put her back on the charmed playmat while he went to help another customer. 

He shook his head, running his hands over his face. He knew Hermione had her misgivings about Rose being at the shop every day, but until today, it had worked well. Now, this just proved that he couldn’t do it. 

When Hermione returned with Rose a few moments later, she found Ron sitting on a chair at the kitchen table. She stopped, looking at him, frowning. “Everything okay?”

Ron shrugged, his previous cheerful mood gone now. “I messed up,” he said.

Her frown deepened. “What do you mean? Did something happen today?”

Ron lifted his head to look at her, slightly surprised by that question. What did she mean by ‘did something happen’? Hadn’t she just heard what he’d said about not changing Rose since midday?

He felt lost for words for a moment, before regathering himself. “I forgot to change her,” he said. “I just… I just forgot.”

Hermione was silent, and if Ron hadn’t been watching her, waiting for her anger to set in, he would have thought that her silence was due to being furious with him. But that was not the emotion on her face at all. She looked more confused than anything.

Before speaking, she came to sit opposite him. “Okay, you forgot,” she said calmly. 

Ron was completely taken aback by Hermione’s response. Was this the same Hermione who had fussed over every bottle just two weeks ago, he was talking to, or had someone taken her place? His mouth opened, but no words came out. 

Seeming to sense his surprise, Hermione continued, “Ron, if I’ve learnt anything since we’ve become parents, it’s that we need to throw out the notion that we need to be perfect for her at all times. She’s fine, isn’t she?” 

Ron looked at Rose, nodding. “So, you forgot to change her once. I’m assuming you got busy today and it slipped your mind.”

“It shouldn’t have,” Ron mumbled. 

“And you’ve never forgotten before, have you?”

Ron shook his head. “Some idiot kid destroyed the place, and I had to deal with that.”

“So, it’s fine. Honestly. Did you think I’d be upset?”

The truth was, yes, but he was mostly upset with himself for forgetting to do it. Wasn’t that what he’d promised Hermione when they made this arrangement? That he would be the perfect person to take care of their daughter?

Hermione’s voice cut through his thoughts, seeming to understand what he was thinking. “Don’t beat yourself up,” she said gently. “Things like this are going to happen sometimes. And she’s fine. I promise.”

Ron nodded, not wanting to continue the conversation anymore. “Should we go? Don’t want to be late. And maybe you’re right; maybe they do have news to tell us.”

…

Ron knew immediately, the moment he stepped into Harry and Ginny’s house, that Hermione was definitely right. It was obvious the second he laid eyes on his sister that she was pregnant again. He didn’t know how he knew, because she wasn’t showing all that much, and he wouldn’t have noticed if he hadn’t been looking, but he now couldn’t help but notice the small bump she carried. 

And she was rather cheerful, too. So was Harry. They greeted them brightly, ushering them into their living room as if they hadn’t seen each other in months, not just weeks. 

Which was still a long time, Ron reasoned. Longer than what they were used to. It wasn’t until he left the Aurors did Ron realise just how much of his time spent with Harry had been at work. If there was one thing he did miss about that job, it was going in and seeing his best mate every day. The laughs, the talks, and the company. 

Now, with a kid each and working separate jobs, they actually had to schedule catch-ups such as these, and that was hard. 

And it looked like Harry and Ginny were going to have their hands full even more so than what they currently did. 

The living room was larger than Ron and Hermione’s, and more open. But even so, it was crowded and filled with many toys, both magical and Muggle, that Ron could guess James never played with. 

Harry, much like Ron, had been determined to ensure that his son didn’t miss out on anything like he had. The only difference was, Ginny had not been there to convince Harry that James didn’t need all that stuff like Hermione had for Ron. She’d agreed with him. 

Looking at the space, Ron felt grateful for Hermione. Rose had everything she needed and a little bit more, but she didn’t have everything like James did. But, Ron reasoned, James was probably going to have to share his things in a few months, so that was something. 

Upon seeing his visitors, James crawled over to Ron and Hermione, grabbing onto Hermione’s leg and using it as leverage to pull himself up. Hermione bent down to pick him up, allowing the boy to nuzzle into her. 

Ron beamed at her, feeling a rush of love for his wife and nephew. Hermione had always been good with James, even before Rose was born, and over the ten months of James’ life, they’d developed quite a bond. James adored Hermione and Ron knew without question that Hermione loved the son of her best friends. 

It had Ron thinking back to almost a year ago now, when Harry had showed up at their place under the pretense of returning a pen, just to express his fear that his son was going to be left alone if anything were to happen to him or Ginny. They’d assured him then that that wouldn’t be the case, but Ron knew now with the utmost certainty that if anything was to happen to either of them, he and Hermione would take James in, in a heartbeat. And he’d be loved and cared for as if he was their child. Because that was how they both felt about the kid, his tantrums and all. 

While Hermione cooed at James, talking to him and making him giggle, Ron extracted a blanket from Rose’s bag — something they carried everywhere — and with Harry’s help, laid it on the carpet of the living room. Things looked different these days on their dinner dates, where their main priority was making sure their kids were set up before they looked after themselves. 

Harry brought over some toys and laid them on the mat, and Ron placed Rose on it. She immediately rolled over onto her tummy, stretching out her hand to reach for one of the toys. Harry and Ginny got to witness first-hand her attempt to briefly get onto her knees before collapsing back onto her tummy.

“Wow, you weren’t kidding when you said she was close to crawling,” Ginny said, sounding impressed. 

“What are you going to do when she actually moves?” Harry asked.

“Put everything up on the shelves,” Ron answered, grinning. “Isn’t that what you had to do?”

“Yeah, luckily for us we had many more months before we were forced to do that,” Ginny answered. 

Hermione put a bubbly James back on the ground and he immediately crawled over to where Rose was playing. He sat on the mat alongside her, picking up a block with some letters on it and shoving it into his mouth. 

Rose didn’t pay him any mind, more interested in the small bear she’d managed to grasp in her little hands. 

“Friends for life!” Harry said brightly. “Just like we always said they would be.”

They watched the two kids play for a few moments, Ron feeling a sense of calm wash over him. Oh, how he loved this life he’d chosen for himself, where the simple joy of watching his daughter and nephew play beside each other made him feel at peace. 

It was Ginny who broke the silence. “Anyone care for a drink?”

They answered in turn, and Ginny — looking rather pleased with herself — hurried from the living room to fetch them. 

“So,” Ron said, once they were all settled on the sofas, their chosen drinks in hand. He decided he was going to get straight to the point, even if Harry and Ginny wanted to do it differently, “how’s Quidditch practice going, Gin?”

He felt Hermione’s reprimanding gaze on him, but he ignored her. He knew his sister was pregnant, so they may as well have it out in the open now. 

“Haven’t been going!” Ginny answered cheerily. “In fact, I’ll be missing another season all together.”

“Oh, and why might that be?” Ron asked, not at all trying to disguise his mock surprise. Hermione whacked his arm gently, but he again ignored her, instead focusing on his sister. 

Ginny’s eyes narrowed. “I saw you staring at me when you got here, you know. So you obviously know. How’d you find out?”

“I’m married to someone who notices everything,” Ron said in response, and all eyes flickered to Hermione. She gave Ron an unimpressed look. 

“Hermione noticed you weren’t talking about Quidditch anymore,” Ron answered on behalf of his wife when she didn’t say anything. “And concluded that only one thing kept you away from Quidditch last time, so that same thing would be keeping you away this time.” He paused, looking his sister over. “You don’t sound too upset about it, though. Last time you were murderous at not being able to play.”

Ginny shrugged. “Not much I can do about it. It’s happened, we didn’t plan for it, so I just have to deal.”

Ron winced at the admission. “Huh, so another surprise.” He tried his best to control the bitterness that was threatening to escape, though he wasn’t sure he was successful. He didn’t want to be upset with either of them for seeming to be able to have a baby so easily, especially because he had Rose now and having another baby wasn’t on his mind, but he supposed some residue of his and Hermione’s struggles still lingered at the back of his mind. 

“Yes, and that bothers you, doesn’t it?” Ginny asked spitefully. She opened her mouth to continue, but to Ron’s utter surprise, it was Hermione who interrupted. 

“You remember how hard it was for us, don’t you?” She didn’t say it in a mean way, but Ron was grateful. He saw Ginny close her mouth and go a little red — something that Ginny never did.

“I’m sorry,” she said after a moment. “I did forget for a moment.”

“But, Ron is being rude, too,” Hermione continued, and Ron’s gratefulness vanished. “We’re happy for you both. Aren’t we, Ron?” She nudged him in the ribs.

“Of course we are!” Ron replied, meaning it. “Of course I’m happy. When’s it due?”

“Well…” Harry began, “somewhere towards the end of August or early September. The official date is the twenty-ninth of August, so if that is what happens, Rosie will have a friend at Hogwarts. But who knows.”

“James was early, so this one probably will be, too,” Hermione said matter-of-factly. "Oh, it'll be so good for Rose to have a friend when the time comes!"

"Yeah," Ron added, "otherwise she might be forced to make friends with Malfoy's kid."

"What?" Harry and Ginny said together, looking at Ron with wide eyes.

"When did that happen?" Harry then added.

Ron shrugged, looking at Hermione. "Last November, apparently. Hermione only found out today. He never even asked for a day off or anything."

"Do you think he's hired someone to raise his child?" Ginny asked.

"Most likely," Ron replied with a nod. "That's what I think, too."

"I can't believe it wasn't even in the papers or anything," Harry said. 

Ron shrugged. "Probably didn't want to draw attention to himself. The papers haven't been kind to the Malfoys in recent years."

"That's so strange," Harry murmured thoughtfully.

"You said it," Ron replied.

A cry distracted them, and Harry immediately jumped up, pulling a much larger James from Rose. He'd decided that lying across her was the answer to taking the toy she was playing with from her.

Hermione moved to check on Rose, but the cry had been from James, not from his cousin whom he was crushing. 

Once it was established that Rose was okay, and Harry gave James a different toy to distract him, Ginny beamed. 

"They even fight like best friends. Siblings, even."

"And just think," Ron said, "soon James will have a real sibling to bully. Is he getting a little brother or sister."

"Brother," Harry and Ginny answered in unison, both of them smiling. 

Ron looked at Hermione, who was also smiling. It made Ron's own mouth curl up, too. 

"Well," he said, "let's hope this one learns to stand up for himself. Because he's certainly going to need it."

Both Harry and Hermione jumped up again, just as James tried to take Rose's toy from her for the second time. 

“He’ll be older by then,” Harry said, sounding hopeful. 

“And more prone to jealousy,” Ron added helpfully. 

Harry picked James up and carried him to a completely different part of the room. He set James on the floor and put some toys around him. “Well,” he said, shoving a toy into James’ hand. The boy took it and put it in his mouth. “Let’s hope that it’s different when his little brother is here.”

[whenihaveyouromione]

When I Have You - Chapter 100

Read on Fanfiction.net or ao3.

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Happy 100 chapters all! This was not the chapter I hoped to be 100 (it will be 102) but the story called for some additions to be written to help progress it, so this is now chapter 100! Thank you to those who are still reading this after 100 chapters!

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Chapter 100

“It’ll be fine, Hermione,” Ron said, for what felt like the tenth time that morning. He finished putting the last sock on Rose’s little foot and then stood up, allowing his daughter to roll onto her tummy and try and wriggle herself forward ever so slightly to reach one of her toys.

Ron hadn’t been too impressed the first time she’d done that just two days ago, because she was only three months old and wasn’t supposed to be doing that just yet. But she was determined and insisted on rolling now whenever they placed her on her back.

“What’s she going to do in a joke shop for eight hours?” Hermione questioned, also for the tenth time that morning. “Especially now that she seems to want to move more.”

“I’ll bring her some toys,” Ron said. “And, George — I mean, we — have products on the shelf for kids her age.”

That wasn’t the right thing to say to Hermione, who’d always been mildly opposed to the products, no matter the age of their user. 

Ron sighed. “Are you going to wish me luck? It’s my first day, and I’m feeling a little nervous.”

Hermione’s eyes snapped from Rose and settled on Ron, and he saw her expression soften. “Good luck,” she said. “You’ll be great. You’re just working with your brother.”

“I think that’s the most terrifying part,” Ron confessed. In the days leading up to him starting at the shop, increasing doubts had crept into his mind, settling themself deep within the parts of his brain he’d worked on over the years. Would he be good enough? Was he capable of running a business? But the worst one was could he work with his brother? 

Their relationship in recent times had become positive. He and George got along rather well, and the incessant teasing he’d received when he was younger had abated as both of them matured. But they also only saw each other a few times a month, mostly at the Burrow under the watchful eye of their mother. This was something incredibly new for both of them, especially for Ron.  And they wouldn’t really be working together. Once Ron got settled, George would go back to managing the Diagon Alley shop and Ron would be solely in charge of the Hogsmeade one. They’d probably only meet once a week to sort things out or discuss new products. So, it probably wasn’t going to be too bad.

“You’ll be fine,” Hermione said, stepping forward to kiss him. “It’ll take some time to get used to it, but you’ll figure it out. I know you will. Besides, you forget that you’re essentially in charge.”

“I’ve never been in charge of anything before.” Another fear of Ron’s. Hermione had stepped perfectly into the role of Head of the Office of Personal Law, and Harry had been blessed with a natural ability for leadership. But Ron… he had never had any real experience. He’d always followed Harry’s lead — having his say where he felt necessary — but at the end of the day, Harry had always been the leader. This time, he would be in charge. People would turn to him for advice, support… anything. 

“Well, you are now!” Hermione answered cheerfully. “I know you’re nervous. I was, too, when I first started. But you’ll be fine.” She kissed him again and then picked up Rose. She handed her to Ron. “You’ve got this,” she said. “Just… just don’t let Rose get too invested in what’s there.”

Ron knew she wanted to say it as a joke, but he heard the sincerity in her tone. He smiled and nodded, knowing that it would probably just about kill Hermione if their daughter turned out to be more of a Weasley than a Granger. 

…

He’d contemplated Apparting to Hogsmeade, but thought better of it, knowing that he had Rose with him. Apparition was a tricky thing to learn, and whilst Ron now considered himself quite apt at it, he wasn’t game enough to attempt Side-Along Apparition just yet (or ever). He’d never forgive himself if Rose was to accidentally lose an arm or a leg or have something horrible happen to her. He still remembered his own Splinching, and how painful it had been. He could never inflict that on his daughter. 

So, he Floo’d. The shop that George had found in Hogsmeade had its own fireplace. It hadn’t been connected to anything upon purchasing it, and it had taken George a little bit of fussing with the Ministry to open it up again for him. Apparently the name Weasley — especially given that their own brother was the Head of Magical Transportation — had meant little in the way of the Ministry’s fear of what it would be used for again. 

What Ron hadn’t known was this shop had once belonged to a Death Eater which had sold all sorts of unruly and illegal items. Since the war, it was cleared out of all its Dark artifacts, and had sat abandoned ever since. George had been eyeing it off for some time but only recently had the money to go through with it. 

“Ah, you’re here!”

Ron was surprised to see George already there, though he was thankful. In truth, he realised that he hadn’t had plans on what to do if his brother had arrived after him. Despite them spending some of Ron’s time off after leaving the Aurors going through everything, Ron supposed he wouldn’t really get the idea of it until he’d been there for a bit.

He likened it to starting with the Aurors. He’d been a bit lost and new at the start of that, but eventually, he got comfortable enough to become bored by it. He supposed it would be similar here, though he hoped he wouldn’t get bored by this job. Something new and different seemed to happen every day at the joke shop, from what Ron had witnessed. 

“Yeah.” The fireplace led into the space they’d set up as the office. It was slightly larger than the space George had at Diagon Alley, but not by much. Already, it was crowded with bits and pieces of products or prototypes of new products. It was almost like George was using this new premise as a dumping ground for all the things he couldn’t fit at the other one. 

But there was a small, cleared space in the corner with a chair which Ron knew was for him. Another reminder that he was in charge here. 

“You don’t sound thrilled,” George said. “You’re not nervous, are you?”

Ron shrugged and George laughed.

“It’s just me, mate,” he said. “Your brother.”

“That’s what I’m worried about,” Ron confessed. 

George chuckled. “Well, hopefully within a week, you’ll be rid of me and you can run things as you wish. Two weeks, max, because that’s how long I have Verity for. She’s been really great, volunteering to stick around for a few more weeks, but she’s been abundantly clear that two weeks is her max. After that, she’s out of here.”

“Well, I’m sure I’ll be fine after two weeks,” Ron said, offering a smile. “You’ve already shown me the ropes, and I know where everything is on the shelves, I know all the products. It’s just the… the running of it that I’ll have to get used to.”

“That’ll be easy enough,” George said confidently. “You’ve met the staff we got, they’ve met you. I’ll help you with the rostering, too. That’s probably the hardest part, really. Oh, and paying them, of course.”

It had been agreed between them that once Ron got the hang of the store management part, he’d move onto other things, too, such as being responsible for paying the staff (both here and at the Diagon Alley premises) and a few other administration aspects of the business. There would come a time, George said, where the staff would be confident in managing the shopfront by themselves which would mean Ron could stay at home and do it. 

That had been the appealing factor in it and he’d agreed. 

He’d also play a hand in new product designs — as George seemed to think he had a knack for it — and everything else as time went on. It seemed busy, but Ron wanted busy. The reason he’d quit the Aurors was because it hadn’t been busy.

Today, though, he’d be merely learning what it was like to work with customers. 

“So, I have Oswald coming in today,” George said. “We agreed that he seemed the most competent so I thought it’d be easier to have him. He’ll be here in about fifteen.”

Ron glanced through the narrow doorway which led out to the shop front. Everything was set up and looking well. 

“You think the three of us can manage it… you know, with two of us not knowing what we’re doing?”

George nodded, though Ron saw the hesitation in his expression. “I think so. You’re not a complete idiot, Ron, despite what I used to tell you. We’ll be fine. Busy, but fine.”

Ron nodded.

George’s eyes finally fell on Rose, who had remained quiet the whole time as if realising it was important for her to do so. A small smile fell across his lips. “Besides, we have the biggest selling factor of all.”

“Don’t let Hermione hear you refer to her as that,” Ron warned, but he smiled. “You know, she’s worried that Rose spending too much time here will make her actually like it.”

“Inevitable,” George said. “She’s part Weasley, it’s in her blood to like what we sell here. Anyway, we have some stuff that’s suited just for her age.” He waved his wand and a moment later, a small, blue teddy bear landed in his arms. He tapped it with his wand and the bear changed to a deep blood, red. He tapped it again and now it was pink. This didn’t seem to interest Rose at all.

“Got anything that makes lots of noise?” Ron questioned.

George grimaced. “Didn’t we go through exactly what every product did last week?”

“Yes, but —”

George tapped the bear again and this time music began to play. Rose’s eyes landed on the toy as she watched it sing. He then put it on the ground, tapping it with his wand again and the bear danced around the room, much to Rose’s delight. 

“If anyone’s interested in this, make sure you tell them it can also be charmed to speak the kid’s name,” George said. “Perfect kid’s toy.” He nodded to Rose, who was still fixated on the dancing, singing bear. “Quite popular, too.”

“I can see that,” Ron laughed. 

“We’ll be fine,” George said. “Especially with Rosie here to woo all the customers.”

Ron smiled. “Again, don’t let Hermione hear you saying that. She’ll probably want to change our arrangements if she does.”

George nodded and winked. “Sure. Will be our little secret.”

For the next little bit, Ron walked through the shop, familiarising himself with where everything was. He wanted to be able to point people in the right direction if they asked for something. He just about had it all memorised when a young man of about twenty appeared via the fireplace out the back. 

He was dark-haired, olive-skinned and looked eager and excited to be standing in the small office. Ron remembered him from a few weeks back when George had introduced him to Ron. Oswald, his name was, and he had been looking for a job for some time. Ron had to admit he was a bit boisterous, but George insisted they needed enthusiasm in a place like this. 

He was one of five employees who’d be working here with Ron. Over time, Ron hoped he’d learn all their names. 

“Right on time,” George said, looking at his watch and then smiling at Oswald. “Impressive.”

“Can’t be late for my first day, Mr Weasley,” Oswald answered, sounding almost breathless. His eyes flicked to Ron, who had returned from his investigation of the shop, Rose still in his arms. “Oh, hello Mr Weasley. And Little Weasley.”

Ron hid a laugh at that. He wouldn’t say it, but he found the idea of Rose being referred to as ‘Little Weasley’ endearing. 

“Oswald,” Ron answered with a nod.

“I’m ready to go,” Oswald then said. “Tell me what I need to do, where I need to be, and I’ll do it and I’ll be there.”

“Your first step will be to slow down,” George said, grinning. “I do like how enthusiastic you are, though. But save some of it for when we have the streams of customers pouring in, in a little bit.”

Oswald didn’t seem all that perturbed by George’s statement, for he ploughed on. “Are the Hogwarts students coming here? It’s been a few years since I was there, but I know a few of the now seventh years. Will be good to see them again.”

“I sent an owl last week to McGonagall,” George said patiently. “Explained about our opening and whatnot. She has made special arrangements for an extra Hogsmeade trip — called in a favour, you know?”

Ron raised an eyebrow at that. “You and McGonagall are on good terms, are you?”

George answered with a shrug. 

“Oh, great!” Oswald explained. “Well, I guess I should set up. I’ll be out the front, right?”

“Yes,” George said. “However… you answer to Ron, not to me. Within a week, you’ll hardly see me. He’s your boss.”

Oswald nodded and looked directly at Ron, awaiting instructions. Ron flushed slightly, remembering all the times he’d walked into Hermione’s office at the Ministry and witnessed her giving orders to Malfoy and Maia with an air of confidence and authority. He would have done anything for that confidence now rather than the fluster that he felt instead. 

“Er, yeah… maybe you can walk around the store, you know? Offering help to find things.”

Oswald nodded again and left for the front. 

George laughed, causing Ron to spin around to face him. “What’s so funny?”

“You’ll have to learn how to be more commanding than that,” George said. “Otherwise they’ll walk all over you. Use the same authority you used when you used to kick those first years out of the chairs in the Gryffindor common room.”

“What?”

George waved him away. “You know what I mean. Also, we have five minutes until opening. What’s Rosie going to do?”

Ron stood there for a moment before answering. “I brought something to carry her in. Let me get it on.”

…

If there was one thing George had been right about, it was that Rose would be a huge selling factor. People apparently loved seeing a baby in the shop — especially one that smiled so much. And apparently, they adored men with babies, too, for Ron received many compliments throughout the day about how good it was to see a baby out with her dad. 

The day went well. George had also been right about Ron being fine. He was fine. In fact, he was more than fine. As the customers trickled in, in the morning, he got a good feel for what it was like to talk to strangers. Strangers were something he usually avoided, because most of the time they only approached him because they knew he was Harry’s brother-in-law, Ginny’s brother, or both. But it actually felt nice talking to someone outside of his family. He rarely did that, he realised. 

These people came in because they were interested in what he had to sell, not who he knew. They asked him questions, gave him compliments, and Ron was pleased to learn that it all felt natural to him. He wasn’t lost, he knew his way around the shop, and by the time the Hogwarts students piled in, excited and joyous for an extra few hours after classes, he felt extremely comfortable. 

Business went well, too. Ron remembered all those times he’d come to Diagon Alley and seen the place packed. This shop was slightly smaller than the other, and it, too, filled up with eager customers. They made a fortune at a guess, which left George grinning from ear to ear. 

Rose had stayed strapped to his chest for most of the day, save for when he had to feed her or change her. And things went smoothly enough that he was able to slip away for a few moments to do either. It probably wasn’t good for her to be in the carrier for as many hours, but he knew that most days wouldn’t be as busy. Eventually, the excitement would wear off and Rose would also become more active. But he made a mental note to himself that he’d have to figure out a way to keep Rose active and playing, but also be able to watch her simultaneously. And he’d find a way, because he was determined for this system to work. 

By the time five o’clock came, the last customers were leaving and George was bolting the door shut, manually and with charms. Oswald, who’d worked hard and tirelessly the whole time, collapsed into a chair by the counter, groaning. 

“My feet,” he complained. 

“You did well,” Ron said, realising it was appropriate to compliment the young man. It was the truth, anyway. 

“What a wonderful first day!” George said cheerfully. “I couldn’t even tell you the Galleons we brought in today. And look!” He indicated the almost bare shelves. 

Ron was about to ask if they had enough to restock before he realised he should know that. Then it occurred to him that he did know. There were stacks and stacks of products crammed out the back, shrunk to fit. 

“How do you feel, Ron?” George said. “Good?”

“Great!” Ron answered truthfully. “Honestly… it feels… right.” It felt more than right being here — like he’d been built to run a joke shop all along. Despite his nerves early on, once put into the situation, it had all come naturally — easily. 

“Well, get used to it,” George continued, “because I imagine the next week or so will be just as busy. Minus the Hogwarts kids, of course. Doubt I could convince McGonagall to let them out every day.”

“That was weird, don’t you think?” Ron said. “Seeing the kids, but not being one of them. Not being a kid anymore.” 

George waved him away. “You get used to it. Besides,” he nodded at Rose, “eleven years and you’ll be at the station again, waving her off.”

Ron looked down at his daughter strapped to him still. She’d fallen asleep not so long ago after he’d fed her a bottle. “You don’t think we can find somewhere for her to move around more, do you? She likes to move, and I just don’t think it’s good for her to stay strapped to me all day.”

George thought for a moment. Ron knew he wasn’t about to banish Rose from the shop after the hit she’d been with the customers. 

“I could put together a play pen or something. Give her some of the toys —”

“Even I draw the line at having my daughter on display, mate,” Ron said. “But a playpen could work. Just maybe… somewhere not in the eye of the public.”

George looked disgruntled, but nodded. “Yeah, we can figure it out. We will figure it out. Besides, in a bit you can do things from home anyway.”

“Thanks,” Ron said. 

“Alright,” George said, “I’ve got to head off to Diagon Alley and assist with the restocking there. You two alright to do it here?”

“Sure,” Ron said. “Part of the job, isn’t it?”

Oswald was slow to get to his feet, but he nodded. “On it.”

George nodded to both of them and was gone a moment later, leaving Oswald and Ron.

They spent the next half an hour restocking the shelves until they were bursting again, and Ron sent Oswald home. It was nearing six now, and Hermione would be wondering where he was — and probably fretting about Rose. He was surprised she hadn’t come here just to check it out. 

Before he headed to the fireplace to go home, Ron took one last look at the shop. He had a good feeling about this new job. It felt right, like he could manage it. It had been chaotic today, but he knew that once he got the hang of it, it would be easy. 

But he knew with one hundred percent certainty now that he had made the right choice.

He was no longer Ron Weasley, Auror. 

He was Ron Weasley, joke shop owner.

[whenihaveyouromione]

When I Have You - Chapter 99

Read on Fanfiction.net or ao3.

---

Chapter 99

The night had been restless. Ron, who usually slept through everything save his daughter’s cries, woke every time Hermione turned over. Every time she sighed, shifted, adjusted herself in the bed. He felt her anxiety over the coming morning, knowing how nervous and worried she felt about returning to work. 

He’d felt it, too, when it had been him six weeks ago. The dread of leaving Rose, wondering if she’d forget him by the time he got back, or the fear of being called out and something happening to him. 

Hermione wouldn’t need to worry about that aspect, but he still understood how she was feeling and rather than assuring her that it would be fine, he’d spent the night relating what he’d felt on his night before so she knew he got it.

It hadn’t helped, though. She’d still been restless. 

Now, it was morning and she was out of bed before sunrise, taking Rose from the room at five o’clock and telling Ron to get some more rest. 

Despite the difficult night, Ron himself felt rather relaxed. He felt happy about what the day would bring — excited, even. With Hermione’s return to work, it was going to be his first full day at home with Rose. 

He’d had time with her, of course, but never a full day. Once Hermione left for the morning, Rose would be his responsibility until Hermione got back. He’d be in charge of feeding her, putting her to sleep and changing her.

And he couldn’t have been happier about the prospect. 

In the four weeks he’d had since finishing his final day as an Auror, he’d never felt more sure of his decision. He and Hermione shared their responsibilities with Rose. They’d take her out for walks, to the shops, while the other had some time to themselves. They’d share the duty of cooking, of playing with Rose. A nice routine had developed between them and they felt as if they’d settled into parenthood in the last few weeks. 

But today things were going to change and Ron was wholeheartedly prepared for whatever was thrown at him. He understood now, just how his mother felt with having seven kids to look after. Like she had said about herself on many occasions, he felt as if he was built for this job. Things came naturally to him with Rose and they had since the beginning.  He did wonder if it was due to the nature of her birth that made everything less frightening and much easier now. Her birth was the most terrifying thing he’d ever had to go through — and he had fought in a war — that maybe it made everything else a lot easier for him to cope with. He could handle the many wake-ups, the late nights, her crying for hours on end and them not knowing how to make it better. He liked doing it all, even if it was hard.

He didn’t know how long he’d been lying in bed after Hermione got up, but eventually, he rolled over and sat up on the edge. He picked up his watch to check the time. It said six-thirty. That was a sleep-in these days. 

Feeling rather refreshed for so early, he made his way downstairs, the sound of Rose’s happy gurgling putting a smile on his face before he even laid eyes on her. She’d become rather vocal in the last week or two, always making sounds when she saw something of interest — most commonly Ron or Hermione or her toys. At 3 months old, she hadn’t quite mastered holding her toys yet, but they’d caught her making a good attempt if they ever put her down. 

The noises she made filled him with so much happiness and he could listen to her talk all day. 

“Oh, Rose, don’t do that!” They were the first words he heard when he came into the kitchen, and they came from a very bewildered-sounding Hermione. She was sitting at the small kitchen table with Rose on her lap, a cup of coffee pushed to the centre and her plate of toast somewhat away from the edge, too.

She turned to Ron. “Well, she’s worked out how to grab things now,” she said, exasperated. 

“What?” Ron asked, bending to pick Rose up and kiss her cheek. 

“My coffee. She almost pulled it on top of herself because she discovered she could grab the handle of the cup.” 

Ron smiled, holding Rose up in the air, causing her to smile back. “Clever girl!” he said.

“Wouldn’t have been if she actually managed to do it,” Hermione said, getting up from where she sat and carrying her plate and cup back into the kitchen. “We’ll have to watch her now. Make sure everything is stuck in place so she doesn’t pull it on top of herself. There’s a spell that we can put on things. It makes even a feather too heavy for a child to lift.”

Rose gave Ron another wide smile and he brought her back down and kissed the top of her head. “Are you ready for a fun day today, Rosie?” he said. 

“What exactly are you planning on doing?” Hermione questioned. 

“Dunno yet,” Ron said. “We’ll see as the day goes on.”

Hermione didn’t seem to like that response. She liked to plan her days. There had been times when she’d told Ron a whole week in advance what they were going to do together. He accepted that with Hermione, but that wasn’t how Ron planned on running things.

Though, noticing the anxiety on her face, he said, “Maybe we’ll go for a walk or something.”

“Around what time?”

“I dunno, I’ll see — maybe ten.”

Hermione nodded, smiling. “I’m sorry, Ron. It’s just… there’s so much to think about today. I just know the moment I step into that office, I’ll be consumed by work again. They’ll have questions, I’ll need to fix things, and then —”

“Then, at the end of the day, you’ll be able to come home to us!” Ron said brightly. 

Hermione smiled again, some tension from her shoulders easing. “I’m going to have a shower and get ready. You’ll be okay for the moment?”

“Of course!” Ron said. “Just no grabbing coffee, Rosie.”

“Put her in the bouncer,” Hermione said. “Might be the safest place for her at the moment.”

When Hermione disappeared back down the hall, Ron did as she suggested and put Rose in the bouncer while he made breakfast. He even handed her two toys — a rattle and a ring — so she would have something to do.

Sure enough, her little fingers curled around them, her eyes widening as they did. 

Ron watched her for a moment, smiling and feeling a rush of affection for her, and then made his breakfast. 

Hermione came back just as he was finishing, dressed in her work robes and hair done up. Ron admired her for a moment. 

“I missed you in those,” he said.

Hermione lifted an eyebrow. “What? Didn’t you like my new ‘mum’ attire?” she questioned.

“No, that’s my favourite,” Ron assured her. “But, you look good like this, too.” He kissed her, pulling her towards him, hand at the small of her back. 

Hermione didn’t let the kiss linger for too long. Her eyes flicked to Rose who was still engrossed in her toys. Sadness flashed across her face. 

“You’ll do great today,” Ron assured her, moving his hand to her face and cupping it. “As I’ve said before, you’ll master this whole being a great lawyer and being a great mum thing. You’ve got this.”

“I don’t feel it. Oh, I’m going to miss her so much today.”

“Yeah, it sucks, but we’ll be fine. I promise.”

Hermione picked Rose up from the bouncer, holding her daughter close. She hugged her, looking as if Ron might have to pry Rose away in a moment. 

But he allowed her to have a long moment with Rose. He’d been like this only a few weeks ago.

Hermione looked up at Ron again, smiling sadly. “I never thought it’d be this hard.”

“Neither,” Ron confessed. He reached forward and gently took Rose from her. “Say goodbye to Mummy, Rosie. She’ll see you this afternoon.” He thought he saw a few tears brim Hermione’s eyes, but she blinked and they were gone.

“You’ll be amazing!” Ron said again. “Have a great day and we’ll be here when you come home, alright?” He leaned down and kissed her. 

Hermione nodded and he followed her to the living room and the fireplace. Hermione looked so jittery — something he’d never seen her look before when leaving for work.

“Love you,” Ron said cheerfully, and he picked up Rose’s hand and moved it in a waving motion.

Hermione smiled one last time before stepping in. In a rush of green flames, she was gone and it was just Ron with his daughter.

…

Ron learnt early on that when Rose flapped her arms, she was excited. It didn’t take a genius to figure it out with the huge smile she now added along with it. 

And that was what she did when he came into the room at half past ten when she’d woken up from a nap. Her bright blue eyes were wide and full of life, her gummy smile, her clenched hands flailing when she saw him.

“Hey, Rosie,” he said, picking her up. “You’re happy today, aren’t you? I thought you’d be a little quieter considering everything’s changed.”

It was a funny thing, he noted, that Rose seemed completely oblivious to Hermione’s absence. He didn’t think he’d mention that to Hermione, but Rose hadn’t even fussed about Ron feeding her, seeming to know that if she was hungry a bottle was what she got today. He knew Hermione had been worried about that, but she was the perfect baby.

It wouldn’t be the case every day, he knew, but he was glad it was for their first. 

While Rose had slept, he’d taken the time to rest. They’d played all morning and by the time nine came around and Rose’s eyes had drooped and she’d become grizzly, Ron had also felt his energy wane. 

So, he’d put her to bed and come back downstairs and not moved from the sofa. He knew Hermione liked to do other things when Rose slept, even if that just meant reading, but Ron didn’t have the energy for such activities, even if he’d wanted to.

He’d even fallen asleep for a bit. 

But now, she was up again and bright-eyed, ready to play.

“Let’s go for a walk,” he told her. “I know there’s a playground nearby and you’re too little to play, but maybe we can just check it out, yeah? Get out of the house?”

Rose’s eyes never left his, watching his mouth, studying his facial expressions. When he stopped talking and watched her, as if waiting for a response, she gave it, with a cooing noise and smile. 

Ron smiled, too.

“I thought you’d like that idea,” he said, and he carried her from the room. 

He realised how ridiculous it might look to be talking to a baby that had no idea what he was saying, but it made sense to him. One day she would understand, one day she would be able to respond. He saw no harm in having a conversation with her now, even if her only answer was to smile at him. 

They’d bought a pram for Rose, but in her three months of life, they’d scarcely used it. They’d discovered that carrying her strapped to them was much easier, particularly if they needed to use the Floo to get somewhere. She’d become used to the travel now, and they were able to cast a protective charm around her so as to avoid her swallowing ash. 

But today, Ron supposed he would use it. It allowed her to see the sky, the sights and everything around her. She liked being outdoors a lot. 

He’d managed to put it together a little while earlier, cheating and using magic when he’d first attempted it by hand. Why bother, he’d thought, when you have magic to do things for you? He’d become less reliant on magic over the years, but it was still his preference compared to doing things the Muggle way. 

It was waiting in the hall, and after he put a few layers on Rose, he laid her down in it. A small cry escaped her, unfamiliar with her new environment.

“It’s alright, Rosie,” he soothed. “It’s alright.”

Her small cry turned into fussing, and then crying some more, until her whole face was red and scrunched up, and her cries echoed down the hall. 

Ron picked her up, cradling her. “I promise you, Rosie, it’s going to be okay. You’ve just got to give it some time.”

Of course, she didn’t understand that reasoning, so she just continued to cry when he put her in again. They did this four times — Ron putting her down, then picking her up again — until she eventually settled. She stared up at his smiling face, eyes wide and curious, but no longer fearful. He pushed the pram forward a little, just down the hall. Her arms flapped excitedly. 

“See,” he said, beaming. “Told you it’d be fun, but you didn’t want to listen, did you?” He pushed it again, and she moved her arms once more in joy.

Satisfied that she was settled, Ron went outside, walking slowly down the driveway. It was still cold at the end of February and he was grateful that he’d thought to dress her in warmer clothes.

They didn’t run into anyone until they reached the playground. There were two other children there, on the swings, with their parents. Both were girls and looked to be around three and four years old. The older of the girls was shrieking loudly as, who Ron could only assume to be her mother, pushed her. The younger girl was laughing, watching the other. 

Ron sat down on a park bench and lifted Rose from the pram and sat her on his lap, facing the children. Her head darted back and forth, watching the children with interest. She’d never seen a playground before and apart from her cousins who smothered her with affection (or in James’ case, sat on her) she’d not met any other kids. He supposed that was the benefit of having a large family — there was no need for socialisation outside of the little bubble they’d created. 

“You can do that one day when you’re bigger,” he said to her. “A few years away, though. Many years, actually.”

Rose cooed, arms waving in excitement for a moment, before her attention drifted to the other things around the playground. The trees swaying in the light breeze, the birds on the grass, or the odd car that drove by. 

“This is your home, Rosie,” Ron said. “When you’re big enough, you can come here as much as you want.”

They sat for a little longer until Rose became restless. She was getting tired, ready for another nap. And probably hungry, too. 

He was just starting to put her back in the pram when one of the parents of the kids came over to him. She was slightly older than Ron, maybe early thirties. And she smiled.

"I've seen you around," she said with a kind smile. 

"Yeah," Ron said, "we live not too far away. Just a short walk."

The woman smiled again. "We live on the same street, I think." 

Ron offered a smile himself, though he had to admit that he'd never seen this woman in his life before. In saying that, though, he didn't know many of the neighbours apart from the ones on either side of them. And even then, only enough to say hello if they passed each other. It was hard to make friends when they lived completely different lifestyles — especially one they couldn't even really share.

The woman seemed to understand his smile as him telling her he didn't know. "Number twenty," she said.

"Oh, yeah, nearby," Ron said. He and Hermione were at eleven. 

"You've got a really beautiful daughter," she then continued. "How old now? I think the last time I saw you and your wife, she was still pregnant."

"Um, three months," Ron said. "She was born a few days after Christmas."

"Oh, lovely!" Another smile. "I'm Naomi, by the way. I just thought I'd come over and say hello. You looked a little lonely sitting by yourself."

In truth, Ron hadn't felt lonely at all. Quite the opposite. He had his little girl with him. "Thanks," he said, meaning it. "I'm Ron. I just thought I'd take her for a little walk. It's our first day together and all."

Naomi looked surprised. "Oh, so you're doing the whole stay-at-home dad thing?" Her tone wasn't accusing at all. In fact, she sounded rather awed by that.

"Erm, not really," Ron explained. "Just between jobs at the moment. I just left a job with the… um… law enforcement." He'd almost slipped up. "Going into business with my brother in a few days." 

"I must admit," Naomi said, laughing a little, "I've always been curious as to what you and your wife do. I've never seen you leave the house, drive a car to work…"

"Hah, yeah." Ron shifted. He was grateful he and Hermione had answers for this if they ever arose. They just hadn't arisen until now. "We work odd hours. See, when I said law enforcement, I meant… policing. Always the night shift, you know. My wife, she's a lawyer. She does a lot of stuff from home. We don't really need a car."

Though, they'd always talked about getting one. They'd probably need one soon, he thought. One of them would have to learn to drive eventually.

"Oh, I see. So you just drive a police car then?"

"Well, not anymore." Rose grizzled, causing both of them to look at her. "As I said, I've left. Wasn't for me. My brother owns a shop in —" He was about to say London, but given that London was a decent drive from here, that would perhaps raise Naomi's eyebrows. "In the city. He's asked me to be part owner. And I said yes. Much more friendly with a kid and all." He shrugged. "Anyway, nice to meet you, but I've got to get her home before she ruins yur time here."

"Nice to meet you, too!" Naomi said, waving. 

Ron left after that, smiling to himself as they walked. This whole not being an Auror thing was good. He got to spend valuable time with his daughter and was able to meet some of the neighbours. He thought a few kids lived on their street and maybe it was time he and Hermione got to know them a little better. For Rose's sake. It would be good for her to have friends apart from her annoying cousins. 

For the whole way home, Rose screamed, causing a few other people out and about to look his way. But Ron didn't care. He was just happy to be doing this. 

…

The first time Ron was able to sit down for the rest of the day was five minutes before Hermione got home. Rose was having another nap and dinner was cooking in the kitchen. All he needed was five minutes, so when the whoosh sounded and green flames seared into his eyes, he jumped back up to his feet. 

“Hey!” he said, noticing immediately that Hermione was scanning the room for Rose. “She’s upstairs having a nap. Went down easy after a busy day.”

“Did you have fun?” Hermione asked, shrugging off the top layer of her robes. Ron kissed her. “Was she okay?”

“She was perfectly fine,” Ron assured her, kissing her again. “Good, happy… we did a lot of things.”

Relief filled Hermione. “I’m glad.”

“And how was your day?” Ron asked. 

“Oh… it was actually quite good!” Hermione answered. “Honestly, I thought it was going to be hard trying to find a rhythm again, but it all just fell into place. There were, of course, things I need to catch up on over the coming weeks, but I think it’s going to be better than I expected.”

“That’s great!” Ron said, “because today was one of the best days I’ve ever had.”

Hermione smiled, and it was the first time she’d done so since getting home, Ron realised. “Well, I’m pleased for you.”

She followed him into the kitchen as Ron rattled off everything he and Rose had done that day. He told her about the park and meeting Naomi, a neighbour, and how Rose liked watching the older kids, and about the games they played at home, and all the little details he thought Hermione would like to know, such as how much food she had and how many times she napped. He checked on dinner a few times in the process, eventually stopping and allowing Hermione to talk about her day.

It turned out that Hermione discovered that she really could do both jobs. Just like Ron had assured her. She’d doubted herself initially, but apparently everything had fallen into place.

“You know,” she said eventually, “I think we can make this work. This plan we have.”

Ron grinned. “Of course we can.”

“I think I feel more comfortable knowing Rose is with her dad and not someone else.”

“I’ll take good care of her, you know I will,” Ron said.

Hermione nodded, smiling. “I do know. You love her more than anything. And…”

“And, what?” Ron pressed, wondering just what was going through her mind. 

Her smile widened, “And I now get it. I can see how happy this makes you. You made the right decision, Ron. Leaving the Aurors, I mean. Not because you weren’t good at it, because you were brilliant. But because I can see just how happy not being there makes you.”

For a moment, Ron said nothing. He watched her, searching for any hint of dishonesty, but couldn’t find it. He knew his decision had been difficult for her to fathom and he’d known how worried she was about everything, and yet she had supported him in making the change. But she’d never told him outright that she thought he had made the right decision. 

“Thanks,” was all he managed to say.

Smiling again, she stepped forward and kissed him on the lips. “I’ll go and check on Rose.”

“And I’ll finish off dinner.” He beamed. “And, Hermione… thanks for what you said. I mean it. I know you weren’t sure…”

“I’m sure now,” was all she said before pulling away and heading down the hall to check on Rose.

[whenihaveyouromione]

When I Have You - Chapter 98

Read on Fanfiction.net or ao3 if you'd like!

---

Chapter 98

The Ministry suddenly seemed brighter now that Ron knew he only had a few more weeks here. There were things he noticed now, as he walked across the atrium, that he hadn’t once noticed in his nearly eight years of employment. He hadn’t noticed the brightness of the main entrance or the little lights that danced above their heads. Nor had he ever seen the cheerful smiles on the employees' faces.

That was something that would always baffle him — the majority of people actually enjoyed working here. For years now, this place had made him feel so down that he’d failed to see the genuine smiles on the vast majority of people’s faces as they made their way from lift to lift, level to level, running errands or on some business. 

This was the heart and soul of the wizarding world. Its mere existence kept their society alive and free from reprimand and unnecessary exposure. It was — well, it had been — an honour to work there, especially in the job that he had. There would be nothing quite like being an Auror. And he’d certainly miss seeing Harry every day, or walking down the corridor and finding Hermione bent over a stack of work as she fussed about everything needing to be done. 

But with the dark cloud of dread having lifted with his decision to leave, he could see the appeal; the satisfaction, the joy working here brought. No matter what they did, they liked being here, which told him he definitely didn’t belong anymore. 

Today was his day off, but he’d come to officially tell Robards and Kingsley of his decision. Hermione had come, too, offering moral support, but he suspected part of her was curious to see how her office was faring without her. 

Ron was determined to not let her anywhere near it, for he knew that once she stepped inside, she’d start organising everyone. Not to mention that Malfoy would see his daughter, which he wasn’t ready for just yet.  

She was too precious to be exposed to the likes of a Malfoy at such a young age. He wanted to keep her safe, to keep her hidden from prying eyes. Not that he thought Malfoy would care, but he wanted to be safe rather than sorry.

Rose slept against his chest. She was in a carrier tied around his body, where she fit perfectly and snuggly inside. Ron liked this Muggle invention. Being able to hold her so close to him without his arms getting tired was a miracle. And, it had protected her from the Floo better than had he just been holding her.

She’d fallen asleep shortly after putting her inside, not even stirring at the whirling feeling of being sucked through hundreds of fire grates.

“You’re really going to do this, aren’t you?” Hermione said as they stopped at the lifts, waiting for one to take them down to the Magical Law level. 

“Are you really asking that?” Ron said. 

Hermione flushed, turning her gaze to the lift. “I am just checking, because there’s no going back once you tell them.”

“Do you not want to be married to someone who owns a joke shop?” Ron teased. “Is it embarrassing for you to admit that?”

“No, not at all.”

“Bit of a step down from telling everyone you’re married to an Auror, huh?” Ron grinned at her, and she smiled back. Once, he might have thought that to be true, but after seven years with her and everything they’d been through, he knew without a doubt that he could have been the Ministry’s janitor and she would still love him. 

“It’s not if it makes you happy,” Hermione answered, offering another smile. 

“Yeah, it’s a step up, really.”

Rose shifted against him, but didn’t wake. As they rode the lift down, Ron watched her, listening to her even breathing. Every time he looked at her, every time she smiled at him, it made him just that little bit more certain that he was doing the right thing. He couldn’t wait to be able to spend more time with her; this little girl — so tiny and yet so perfect — had become his world. Everything revolved around her now. Every decision, every action. 

He was counting down the days when he wouldn’t have to say goodbye to her every morning. 

They stepped out of the lift and began the walk down the corridor when a voice called out. 

“Weasley!”

Ron startled, turning to find Robards behind him. His boss frowned, eyes running over the three of them. First Ron, then Hermione, and then Rose, before settling back on Ron. “I hear you’ve organised a meeting in fifteen minutes with myself and the Minister?”

Ron nodded. “Yeah…”

“But you won’t say why?”

“It’s best to discuss this in private,” Ron replied.

Robards’ eyes narrowed. “I see… well, I’ll see you then, Weasley.”

Ron nodded and waited for Robards to continue on before he started walking again.

“I think he knows,” Hermione said.

“Of course he knows,” Ron said. “Why else would I be arranging a meeting?”

Robards wasn’t in the Auror office when they entered, but Harry and Dean were. Harry looked surprised to see him there, but Dean seemed delighted, getting up from his desk to come over to them. He hadn’t met Rose yet, only heard about her, so the first thing he did was peer into the carrier attached to Ron.

“She’s beautiful!” he exclaimed.

Harry was slower to approach. “Come for a visit?”

“Come to resign,” Ron corrected. 

Harry’s mouth opened, but was stopped from saying anything by Dean’s exclamation of what?

“So, you’ve made your decision, then?” Harry said. “I mean, your mind hasn’t changed?”

Ron hadn’t yet told anyone other than Hermione of the new arrangements regarding the joke shop. And it seemed that George hadn’t let it slip, either. 

“Yeah, I have,” Ron replied after a moment. “I’m leaving. For good. I’ll be helping George open the new shop in Hogsmeade.”

This seemed to surprise Harry even more than the fact that he was resigning. 

“He’s not just helping out,” Hermione interjected, almost scoffing at the word. “George asked him to become part owner, and Ron accepted.”

“What?” Harry gaped.

Ron nodded. “Yeah.” He shrugged. “You’re looking at the new owner of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. Er, as of March, I mean.”

“Are you for real?” Harry questioned. “Ginny hasn’t said anything…”

“Ginny doesn’t know. No one knows. I don’t think, anyway. It’s all kind of new. But… it feels right. Moving onto something better, I mean.” He looked down at Rose still sleeping against him. “It means I get to spend more time with her. Which is great.”

Harry nodded, though he said nothing. He still looked shocked by the revelations. 

“We’ll miss you here,” Dean said. 

“Yeah, I’ll miss seeing you all every day, but we can still catch up. I mean, I’m not getting rid of Harry any time soon. We’re family.”

“Well… just don’t forget about me, alright?”

“Come into the shop, I guess,” Ron answered with a smile just as Robards walked in. 

“Weasley, you ready?”

“Yes.” Ron unclipped the carrier from his body and Hermione lifted Rose from it. He set it on his desk — it looked the cleanest it ever had — and Hermione rocked Rose gently against her. He kissed Hermione’s temple and the top of Rose’s head. “I won’t be too long,” he said. 

Hermione nodded as Ron turned to follow Robards from the Auror Office and off to the Head Auror’s personal office. Ron had only been in there a handful of times, Robards usually preferring to conduct business surrounded by others. It was a small, cramped space, filled with objects such as Sneakascopes and other useful tools that hadn’t been used much in recent years. 

Ron found a chair and sat down. “Where’s Kingsley?”

“Minister Shacklebolt will be here soon — ah!” Robards jumped to his feet as the door swung open and Kingsley came in, robes sweeping behind him. 

Ron had expected the Minister to sit beside Robards, but instead, he took up a seat beside Ron, offering him a warm smile. It made Ron feel a little more uncomfortable. He now felt as if he was speaking to Kingsley as a friend and not as his boss, which was a lot harder. 

He shifted in his chair. 

“So, Ron,” Robards said, “let us get straight to it. You’ve called a meeting. Tell us what for.”

Ron shifted again, cleared his throat and then decided to get straight to the point. “After some thinking, I’ve decided that I’m no longer suited for the job as Auror. I… I’ll be resigning in two weeks.”

Robards’ eyes widened and he could sense Kingsley’s eyes on him, too. 

“You’re a good Auror, Ron,” Kingsley said after a moment.

“I’ll agree to that,” Robards said with a short nod.

“That may be so,” Ron said, “but I don’t think I can give my best to the job anymore.”

“May we ask what’s changed for you?” Kingsley asked. “I remember when I offered you the position to begin training — you were thrilled to even be considered. Something about being your dream job.”

“My daughter,” Ron answered simply, and neither man seemed to have a reply to that. Kingsley had no children, himself, but Robards had one son, working in the Magical Creatures department. 

After a moment, Robards said, “Many people have children and work as an Auror, myself included.”

“Yeah, I know, but I don’t want to.” He’d expected them to try to talk him around. He’d planned for it. “I… I have another opportunity lined up. Part owner of the joke shop my brother runs. It’s less dangerous and I get to spend more time with my daughter.”

It seemed that neither were able to argue with that assessment. How could they? 

“Well, Ron,” Kingsley said, “we’ll be sad to see you go, but I suppose we cannot stop you if that’s what you want.”

“I’ll be losing one of my best Aurors,” Robards added. “Especially when we are still figuring out the Black Robes.”

“Sorry,” Ron said, though he found it hard to mean it. In all honesty, the last of the weight that had been holding him down was beginning to lift, relief and joy filling him instead. 

“And there’s absolutely nothing we can do to change your mind?” Robards continued, glancing over at the Minister nervously. “We… can’t pay you more? Give you better hours? Eliminate weekend shifts?”

“No,” Ron answered honestly. “You couldn’t pay me enough.” He winced, knowing how that sounded. “I don’t mean that in a bad way, honestly. I’ve enjoyed my time here, liked being an Auror, but I now see my future elsewhere — somewhere where my life isn’t placed in danger every day, leaving myself, my wife, or my daughter wondering if I’m going to make it home at the end of the day.”

“You’ve contributed so much to the Ministry over the years, Ron. You’ve left your mark here, regardless of whether you stay or not.” Kingsley offered him a wide smile, and Ron knew in that moment that the Minister wasn’t going to try and change his mind. Perhaps it was just Kingsley’s way, or perhaps he could see in Ron that nothing would convince him to change his mind, but he seemed content with this turn of events. 

Ron returned his smile. “Yeah, well… I’ll just leave it at that for now.”

Robards seemed to give in after that, too, leaning back in his chair and sighing. “I had you pinned for someone high up in the future, Weasley. You and Potter. Deputy Head and Head.”

This surprised Ron. He stared at Robards for a moment. “You did?”

Robards nodded. 

Kingsley said, “As did I.”

Ron couldn’t quite find the words to respond to this revelation. In truth, he’d not seen himself reaching any further than Senior Auror, maybe eventually being one of the Aurors who ran training sessions for those with aspirations to become one. But now, to hear that both Kingsley and Robards saw him in a much more prominent role than that, pride swelled within him. It hadn’t changed his mind in the slightest, but it still felt good to hear it. Gave him confidence.

“Wow, that’s… that’s… I really appreciate —”

“Still not enough to change your mind, though?” Robards asked. 

Ron shook his head. 

Robards nodded. “Understood.”

“How many weeks are you giving us, Ron?” Kingsley then asked. “So we can fill your shoes, as hard as that will be?”

“Two weeks. Three, if you’re desperate,” Ron told him. “I start with George at the beginning of March, but I’d like a week or two in between, just to… you know… get things in order.”

Both men nodded, looking at each other and then back at Ron again. 

“Very well,” Kingsley said after a moment. “Consider your employment at the Ministry finished in two weeks from today.” He held out a hand, which Ron accepted, smiling and relieved that it had gone well. He hadn’t thought it wouldn’t, but he’d been a little nervous at how they’d react. He was glad neither had tried to put up more of a fight than what they did.

Robards offered his hand, too, and they all stood up, moving to the door. 

Together, they headed back down the corridor to the Auror office, and Ron was unsurprised to see that Hermione was no longer there. The optimist in him thought that maybe she’d taken Rose to the lunchroom, or for a walk around the atrium. But he knew her too well to know that if he walked a few paces down the corridor, he’d find her introducing their daughter to her office. 

Robards and Kingsley left Ron to speak to Harry, who got up from his desk. “So… you’re done?”

“In two weeks, yeah. Don’t worry, you’ve still got me until then. Someone’s got to do all the hard work around here.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “You think that’s you?”

Ron chuckled, not bothering to answer. They both knew that Ron was hardly the hardest worker in the office, even if he did give a lot more to the job than he had during his time at Hogwarts. 

“See you tomorrow then?” Harry said, clapping Ron on the back. “We’ll have to celebrate your final days with us. Go out with a bang. Maybe solve the bloody case of the Black Robes.”

Ron left after that, not even bothering to check anywhere else for Hermione. He went straight to her office, and sure enough, there she was, Rose in her arms and talking to her junior, Maia. Malfoy sat at his desk, head bent and apparently paying either of them no mind. 

She turned her head at his approach, almost looking guilty. 

“Why am I not surprised?” he said, grinning.

“I wasn’t expecting you to be back already!” Hermione exclaimed. “You’re done? It’s done? They didn’t try to change your mind?”

“Not really,” Ron said. “They were disappointed, but they understood I think. Though…” He frowned, thinking about what Robards and Kingsley had said at the end.

“What?” Hermione asked, eyes on him. 

“Robards said he thought I’d make a good Deputy Head of the office in the future.”

“Well, of course!” Hermione said. “You’re a brilliant Auror. I’m not surprised by that at all.”

Ron smiled at her. “So… couldn’t help yourself. Found your way back here?”

“It’s not like that!” Hermione said. “I just… I will be going back soon. I wanted to see…” She looked away from him, embarrassed, though Ron only smiled.

“You wouldn’t be Hermione if you didn’t come here while you waited. So, Rosie, what do you think of the place your mum will never surface from?”

“Oh, come on!” Hermione said, gripping his elbow and steering him towards the door. “If you’re done, we can go.”

Ron smirked and allowed Hermione to steer him from the office and down the corridor to the lifts. He felt so much relief knowing that in a few weeks, he would no longer be employed here. His eleven-year-old self would have balked at the idea of him ever giving up a position with the Aurors, but he wasn’t eleven anymore. There were many things his eleven-year-old self would have hated about this life. But, at twenty-five, he’d done so much, achieved a lot already, and he felt content to give this one thing up. 

Hermione didn’t speak until they were outside in the fresh air, choosing not to head home straight from the Ministry. Muggle London was bustling for the middle of the week, people wrapped in coats and scarves in the still-cold late January weather. 

Hermione stepped into a side street, and with Rose attached to her in the carrier, she managed to extract a tiny, thick coat for their daughter from her tiny bag at her waist. 

Ron rarely noticed it these days, though he was always amazed at how she managed to think of everything. 

He helped her put it on Rose, who didn’t appreciate being disturbed, and then she pulled out a coat for each of them, too.

“Honestly having second thoughts about this whole being Rosie’s main carer, you know,” Ron said, shrugging on the coat and feeling instant warmth. Had she placed heating charms on it? “I’d probably forget the baby if it weren’t for you.”

Hermione smiled. “You’ll be fine. So… it went well, then?”

They returned to the main straight and walked, everyone warm and snug. 

“Really well,” Ron said. “Two weeks. That’s all I have left.”

“And then what?” Hermione questioned. 

Ron thought for a moment, a smile falling across his face. “And then… a new chapter of our lives begins.”

[whenihaveyouromione]

When I Have You - Chapter 97

Read on Fanfiction.net or ao3.

---

Chapter 97

George knocked on their door at ten on the dot. He’d even dressed for the occasion, perhaps doing his best to convince Hermione — who had never fully approved of a joke shop despite being impressed by his success — that this was the best choice for her husband. His hair was slicked back and he was wearing some basic dress robes, so much so when Ron opened the door, he barked out a laugh. 

“You want to be convincing, don’t you?” George said, stepping past Ron without an invitation to enter. He stopped in the hall, looking around. “When was the last time I visited here?”

“Who knows,” Ron said, closing the door. “And why’d you come through the door? Your place is connected to our Floo, isn’t it?”

“I thought it was more polite,” George replied. 

“Polite?” Ron raised an eyebrow. “When have you ever been worried about being polite?”

“Since I’m desperate for a partner in my business,” George said. “Besides, before I got here, I took a little stroll through this part of the city. It’s nice here. You’ve picked a good spot. I also like what you’ve done with the place.”

“We haven’t done anything,” Ron answered as Hermione joined them in the hall, nursing a happy Rose. 

She’d done her best to get out of Ron what he wanted to tell her. She absolutely hated surprises and not knowing, and it had just about killed her trying to figure out what he and George so desperately wanted to say. He wondered if she actually had and just wanted him to say it, but her insistence that he tell her suggested she hadn’t. It was probably the last thing on her mind, for he thought that some part of her still believed that his unhappiness with the Aurors was merely a temporary problem that would sort itself out. 

He knew she wouldn’t be happy about this decision. It didn’t fit in her idea of what a career should look like, but he hoped that she could at least be understanding and support him in his decision. The last thing he wanted was for them to get into an argument over it, or for them to not agree. This, he thought, was what was best for their family. He just wanted her to realise that, too. 

“Morning, Hermione,” George said with a nod her way. “Morning, Rose. Good to see you again.” He made the same gesture, to which Rose responded with a frown as she took in the near stranger standing in her hall. She’d seen George a few times in her short life, but Ron doubted that she could remember people she didn’t see every day. 

George returned her frown. “It’s me!” he said. “Your favourite uncle!”

Ron snorted. 

“What?” George said. “Don’t tell me it’s Harry. It’s not Harry, is it? Well, I’ll be sure to become the favourite uncle. She’ll be seeing a lot more of me, after all.”

This time it was Hermione’s turn to frown. She looked between Ron and George and was about to ask something, when Ron said, “Come on. Kitchen or living room?”

“I could use some coffee,” George answered. “Hermione might need some Firewhisky.”

“Kitchen it is.” Ron led the way down the hall and into the kitchen, where George sat down at the small breakfast table and Ron went to make some coffee. As he did, George held out his arms as an offer to take Rose. Ron watched Hermione hesitate a moment before handing her daughter over to him. 

He then watched her expression relax when Rose gave him a big smile at the ridiculous faces George decided to pull. She sat opposite George and waited. There were so many burning questions in her, Ron could tell. The fact that she’d managed to not say anything since George’s arrival was astounding. She usually had a lot to say about everything — even when her input wasn’t needed. But here, she just seemed completely bewildered and confused by the prospect of her brother-in-law sitting at her kitchen table, playing with her daughter, while also knowing he was here to share something important.

But, just as Ron was bringing over the coffee, she seemed unable to contain herself any longer. “So,” she said, “are you going to share this big news you have any time soon?”

George lifted Rose up, to which she grinned again, and then brought her back to his lap where he turned her around so she could see Ron and Hermione. She didn’t seem phased to be with someone else in the slightest. 

“Well, Hermione,” George said as if he were speaking to her about the weather, “I think I’ve solved your financial problems.”

Ron closed his eyes briefly, wanting to hit his brother for starting that way. When he opened them again, he saw Hermione’s mouth open, but no sound coming out. They didn’t have financial problems. Not while he was safely and securely working for the Aurors. It was the issue of him leaving that left it open, and even then Hermione was Head of an important department and earned a decent wage. 

George seemed to realise his mistake, for he said, “Let me rephrase that. I’ve solved the problem of what might happen if Ron were to leave the Aurors and leave you both in a small pickle.”

That was better, but not by much. Hermione’s eyes flashed to Ron before looking back at George questioningly. 

George shrugged. “He wants to leave and I need a business partner. Works out well, don’t you think?”

Hermione turned to Ron immediately. “You want to work at the joke shop?” 

It was exactly the response Ron had expected from her. She really didn’t think highly of George’s career path. It probably killed her a little inside to learn that it was the career her husband was now considering. 

“Well… yeah,” Ron said when he couldn’t think of a better way to break it to her. “I kind of just asked George if he needed help until he found someone else, but —”

“Ron is the perfect ‘someone else’,” George finished. 

Hermione looked as if she’d been hit by one of George’s prank products. She seemed to have so much to say on the subject, but didn’t know where to begin. But it was clear she thought this plan of theirs was completely and utterly ridiculous. 

This was no surprise to Ron, but George seemed rather put out. Ron wondered just what he’d thought would happen. Had he thought he’d rock up, reveal the great news to her and she’d hug him and thank him for helping Ron out? He’d known Hermione for almost as long as Ron had, albeit not as well, and he should have known that this kind of change wouldn’t sit well with her. 

It wasn’t that she meant to put down the idea, Ron knew that. It was just who she was — rigid in her ideas that she struggled to break from them no matter what others said or did to counter those ideas. 

She wanted Ron to stay with the Aurors because that was where he’d be successful. That was what was important to her. He knew, eventually, she’d come round to the fact that he needed to do something that made him happy, but it would take some time for her. 

“Ron…” Hermione said after a moment. 

Ron nodded. “I think it’s a good idea. And I can leave the Aurors knowing that I’m not leaving us — our family — in a tricky situation. I’ll go from one job to the next with ease.”

“But, Ron —”

“The money is virtually the same,” Ron added.

Hermione’s eyes widened. “What?”

George dug into one of his many pockets in his Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes uniform and extracted the same piece of parchment he’d shown Ron the night before. He slid it across the table to Hermione, where she picked it up. “I run a successful business, Hermione,” he said as Hermione read the figure on the page. “Successful enough to easily open a second premises, which will make room for more products, more sales and therefore more profit. That number is based on my worst  week in the shop. Sometimes the profit might be more, but never less.”

Hermione set the parchment down and once again looked at Ron, who offered a lopsided grin and a shrug. 

She then turned back to George. “I didn’t realise it was doing so well,” she told him.

“It’s booming,” George answered proudly. 

Hermione shook her head, apparently having nothing else to say. One of her concerns had been money. It wasn’t that either of them were obsessed with money, but they’d built their lives around the incomes they were currently earning. Hermione as a Head with room to move up even higher, and Ron in a high-paying job that he’d not made any serious plans to leave until recently. Sure, they could have cut back on a few things, but the thing was… they didn’t really want to.

Having grown up with nothing, Ron enjoyed all the comforts they had and the things he could offer his daughter. Truthfully, money was what had kept him where he was for so long. But now that a different opportunity had come up, where the money also wasn’t an issue, he wanted to jump on it. 

“It has more benefits than just the money,” Ron said calmly. “It’s more flexible, and I can work while looking after Rosie.”

Hermione frowned. “How can you work with a baby to care for at the same time?” Her tone wasn’t accusing. Ron sensed she was genuinely curious about an answer. 

“A baby isn’t too much trouble in a place like that. Especially Ron being part owner, he’ll be in the back working more than he will out the front… eventually. And, there are days where — again, as owner — you don’t have to go in at all. Sometimes I spend my whole day in my flat just putting together owl orders, sorting through the orders, sending them off. All things that can be done easy enough with a kid in tow.”

“Not to mention Rosie is so cute they’ll take one look at her and buy the shop out!” Ron said brightly. 

Hermione glared at him. 

“I’m joking,” he assured her. “I wouldn’t use her to sell things. But… the point is… this is exactly what I’m looking for and I think it’ll work for us. I’ll be here, or at the shop, doing non-dangerous things. And, I’ll also get to spend more time with Rosie, being her dad. And you… you can continue being amazing at the Ministry and doing what you love. It works out well.”

Ron didn’t know what part of that spiel was the wrong thing, but whatever it was triggered tears to spring into Hermione’s eyes. But she wiped them away before Ron could ask about it and said, “I suppose it does.”

Ron frowned. 

“Great!” George said. “So, it’s settled then? Ron will be part owner of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes.”

Still eyeing Hermione, now concerned about what he’d said to make her upset, he reluctantly looked at George and nodded. “Yeah. I guess I am.”

“And don’t worry, Hermione,” George said, apparently none the wiser to Hermione’s distress. “He doesn’t start until March, so we have about six weeks to get things in order. That all good?”

Steeling herself and with no sign of her moment of weakness before, she nodded. “That gives us some time to sort out things with Rose, I suppose.” She looked at Ron. “And you’re completely sure about this? You don’t think that once you get settled again, you’ll feel differently?”

“You know I’ve felt this way long before Rosie was here,” Ron said. “My mind never changed, I just could never find the courage — or a reason — to take that step to walk away.”

For a moment, she watched him. Perhaps she was looking for some indication that he was saying all this because his brother was sitting next to him. But he didn’t give it to her — he couldn’t because he didn’t feel an ounce of regret about his decision — and eventually a small smile played at her lips. 

“It’s a good idea then, I think.”

“Really?” Ron blinked. “I mean… that’s great, but… I’m surprised you’re agreeing so easily. I thought —”

“What’s a reason to argue?” Hermione asked. “I mean, I struggle to understand why you’d wish to leave a well-paying Ministry job to work in a joke shop, but… I also don’t want you to be unhappy, and I can see that being an Auror makes you unhappy. Also… also, it means Rose doesn’t have to go into the care of someone else every day…” 

“Yeah,” Ron said. 

Hermione nodded, but didn’t say any more on the matter. 

“Great!” George stood up, beaming. “This has solved all my problems. I can now guarantee my purchase of the Hogsmeade premises and Ron, your name is on it now, too.” He passed Rose into Ron’s arms. “I’ll be sure to check in with you in a few days to sort out the logistics, but once I get the keys, it’ll be yours to run as you wish — under limitations, of course.”

For the first time in years, Ron felt excited about the prospect of going to work again. Sure, he’d have to finish off his time with the Aurors and he knew he still had some weeks left with them. But he was going to be a part owner of a successful business and get to see his daughter every day. No missions, no dangerous situations. It was all he wanted. 

George bid them farewell and let himself out with a skip in his step. Ron and Hermione waited in silence until they heard the front door close before speaking. It was Ron who spoke first. 

“You’re definitely okay with this?” he asked her. 

“I… I think so,” Hermione said. “It’s not my choice, but if George’s calculations are correct, it doesn’t leave us any worse off. Besides, the shop really is doing well and I can see you’re excited about it.”

Ron smiled. “I am, actually. But mostly I’m excited about seeing Rosie more.” He jiggled her slightly on his knee. 

Again, Hermione’s expression changed and Ron realised that whatever had upset her before had something to do with Rose and he spending time with her. 

“Everything okay?” he asked. 

“Yes.”

“Hermione…”

“It’s… nothing.” She wiped at her eyes, trying to hide the tears that had formed again. 

“What’s going on?” Ron questioned. 

“It’s really nothing,” Hermione insisted. “I’m being stupid.”

“It doesn’t seem like nothing. Tell me what’s going on?”

Hermione didn’t answer immediately. Ron thought she wasn’t going to at all. But then, her voice a whisper, asked, “Do you think I’m prioritising my job over Rose?”

“Huh?” That was not what Ron had expected from her. “What do you mean?”

She shook her head. “Before, when you said… when you said we’ll all be happy because you get to look after Rose and I get to go back to work… is that what you think I’m thinking about?”

Ron frowned, confused. “I’m not following.”

Hermione sucked in a breath. “It’s not the first time, Ron, where you’ve mentioned it.”

“Mentioned whatt?” Ron asked. “Hermione, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“The way you say it, it seems that you think I can’t wait to end my maternity leave and head back to the Ministry and start working again. That she’ll just be second to me when I start doing, as you put it, what I love.”

Ron didn’t laugh even though he wanted to. “I don’t think she’ll ever be second to you, Hermione! I say it because… well, because I think that you’ll be amazing at doing both. I think that you’ll head into work each morning and go into boss mode and be amazing at that. Then, when you get home, you’ll switch that off and switch on being Mum to Rose and you’ll be incredible at that, too.” He paused, watching her. “I meant it as a compliment! I admire you. I think it’s quite clear that I cannot do both and being a dad… it’s better for me. I like it more. But you… you can do both.”

“Can I?” Hermione asked, and Ron heard the familiar choke back of tears.

“Of course you can! You don’t think you can?”

“I’ve struggled in the past, haven’t I?” Hermione said. “I mean… we almost broke up once because I couldn’t ‘switch off’ once I got home. I don’t want to be like that for her. Or with you again, for that matter.”

“You won’t,” Ron said confidently. “That was years ago. We were younger then. More immature. And I was stupidly in love with you that I just wanted you all to myself. These days, I’m more sensibly in love with you, and… and you have no idea just how amazing you are at being Rosie’s mum.”

“I’m scared about leaving her,” Hermione confessed. “I’m scared about missing her so much I won’t be able to focus…”

“Well, now you can go back knowing that she’ll be well cared for,” Ron said, kissing the top of Rose’s head. “I’d die before I let anything happen to her. You know that.”

Hermione smiled weakly. “I know. I just… I never thought it’d be this hard to leave her. I think even I thought I’d be excited to get back into things… but I’m not. I’m not ready to leave her.”

“Yeah… it sucks,” Ron syampathised. “But, we have a plan now and it’ll work. I know it will. We’ll make it work.”

Hermione nodded. “And you’re really sure about this? I mean, the joke shop aside, you’ll be filling Fred’s spot. Are you okay with that?”

Ron nodded. “I am,” he said. “I think Fred… I think he’d be happy to know it was someone he could… I wouldn’t say trust… but, you know… I think he would.”

Hermione nodded, offering another smile. “I think he’d be happy, too.”

Ron leaned across the table and kissed her. “I love you,” he said. 

“I love you, too.” 

“And you’re a great mum. And you’ll continue to be a great mum and a great lawyer.”

“Thank you, Ron.”

Ron kissed her again. “No need to thank me. It’s only the truth.”

[whenihaveyouromione]

When I Have You - Chapter 96

Read on Fanfiction.net or ao3.

---

Chapter 96

Ever since he’d started working at the Ministry, Ron realised that he’d rarely left it during the day. Most of his days were spent underground, in an office, walking the corridors or in the lunch room in the hope of catching his wife at the same time. 

But today, he’d escaped aboveground. He had an hour and for a while, he simply wandered Muggle London. Once upon a time ago, he would have felt completely lost and bewildered to be in an environment he was very much not used to. Over the years, though, he’d grown accustomed to how it all worked. He understood money, how appliances functioned, and simply how to converse with Muggles without bringing magic into the conversation. Now, he could walk past a shop and not wonder what a ‘computer’ was, because he knew and could envision it in his head. 

He stopped in a small cafe and ordered food, paying for it with only a moment’s hesitation on how much he needed to give over to the worker. He then smiled at the woman taking his money, thanked her and left with his food. 

It was a fairly simple life, he realised. At least for Ron.

For the second half an hour of his break, he returned to the most familiar part of London — Diagon Alley. There, he was amongst people like him and he was free to carry his wand around and he didn’t receive odd looks when he walked past in robes. 

Here was a place that he’d grown up in, visited with his family to either buy his older siblings’ school supplies and wishing it was him, or going with his mother when everyone else was at school, he and Ginny tagging along and staring into the window of Quality Quidditch Supplies. 

He had the best of both worlds now, and maybe, if things didn’t work out in the wizarding world, he could find a job in the Muggle one. He wondered if Hermione would agree to that.

That was an option, though not one he really wanted. 

He only had about twenty minutes left when he stopped out the front of his brother’s shop. As usual, it was filled with colour and noise and when he peered through the window he saw that it was filled with small children and their parents.

He made a note that he’d have to take Rosie here when she was a bit older and then entered. George was at the back, trying to serve a never-ending line of paying customers, all the while keeping his eye on the others, probably making sure they didn’t run off with anything.

Ron had always admired George’s positivity. Growing up, Fred and George had always been the ones to make others laugh. But right now, he looked flat-out stressed. He seemed to be doing the job of three people.

“Alright there, George?” he asked, coming to the counter.

George barely glanced at him, accepting a handful of Galleons from a woman with two young children bouncing on their toes with their new toys. 

“I’m more busy than I’ve ever been and it’s not even the summer holidays!” George eventually said.

“Where’s Verity?” Ron asked. 

George waved a hand vaguely in the direction of the shelves. “Over there, trying to be in more than one place at the same time. I’m going to miss her when she goes, that’s for sure.”

Ron peered through the crowd, but couldn’t spot the woman that had been in the shop virtually from its opening. He’d only met her a handful of times, talked to her even less, but she did seem on top of everything, and George seemed to really like her and appreciate her working for him.

“What brings you here?” George then said, finally looking at Ron in a lull moment before the next group stepped to the counter. “Aren’t you working?”

“Lunch,” Ron said. “But I do have to be back in a moment. Just thought I’d drop in and say hi. I didn’t realise you’d be so busy.”

George snorted. “Been like this for a while now. That’s four Galleons.” He held out a hand to a boy and girl, both about ten, to take their money. “Hence why I want to open up in Hogsmeade. Relieve some of the pressure.”

“It’s good for business, though, isn’t it?” Ron said. “I mean…”

“If I had the staff to manage it properly.”

“You haven’t found anyone else?” Ron asked. 

“Nobody I trust to run a whole damn shop on their own. I’ve got a few workers in mind to assist, but I really need someone at Hogsmeade to oversee things.”

Ron once again looked around the shop. It had more and more products each time he visited. George was a genius. He couldn’t quite grasp how his brother could continue coming up with ideas and putting them out to have them successfully sold. He was the most successful business in Diagon Alley — no one could deny that. 

“Then, ever since I put out my Homework-Helping-Cheat-Free range, the owl orders for Hogwarts have picked up by eighty percent. I can barely produce them in time. Some students are getting them a whole month after they order it. What’s the point by then? Exams are over.”

“You can only do so much,” Ron reasoned. “You need —”

“Help,” George said. “Yeah.”

Ron fell silent. He only had a few minutes before he had to get back to the Ministry, though seeing how stressed his brother was made him want to stay. Perhaps he could take money from people. He didn’t know much about the products, but he could take money. 

“Listen, mate, I’m really busy, I’d love to chat, but I just can’t.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Ron said. “I’ve got to get back to work anyway.” He paused, thinking for a moment. “Hey, how do you feel about me stopping by at five today? As you close?”

“I don’t have a problem,” George said, “but Hermione might. Isn’t she at home today with a screaming baby?”

“It’ll be quick,” Ron said. “Just… wait around a bit?”

George shrugged. “Alright.”

“Thanks.” Ron left the shop after that and Disapparated from the street, an idea already forming in his head. It wouldn’t be much, or as well-paying as the Aurors, but he supposed it could do for the meantime. Ron was looking for a change, George needed help. It was the perfect answer to the problem he’d been dwelling over for years now. 

He’d help George out in the shop. 

…

The evening was a cool one, the sky above dark and grey, but Ron’s mood felt light. He had sent a memo to Hermione after returning from his lunch to tell her he had to help George with something. She hadn’t sounded too upset, but was very aware that she had been with Rose all day and he’d make this quick.

He couldn’t see why George would deny him the offer. Ron couldn’t promise he’d be the best, but he was help and that was what George was after. Perhaps he could help enough for George to finally open his Hogsmeade shop. 

Despite all the shops being closed, Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes still shone brightly. In that moment, he appreciated the joy George’s work brought to everyone — children and adults alike. He couldn’t wait to bring Rose here and see her face light up when she saw all the bright colours. 

George was restocking the shelves when Ron entered, this time, to a much quieter environment. The customers were gone and now it was just George. He seemed more relaxed.

“Made a killing today, I bet,” Ron said by way of greeting.

George smiled and laughed. “I’m on my way to Gringotts after this to put it all in the vaults.”

“Vaults?” Ron questioned, surprised. Was George making enough money to keep two vaults in the wizarding bank? If that was true, he’d kept that very quiet.

“My one, and the business one. Gotta pay my staff… well… my skeleton staff, that is.” He frowned. 

“That’s what I came to talk to you about, actually,” Ron said. 

That caught George’s attention. He lowered his wand from levitating boxes to the higher shelves and turned to Ron with a raised eyebrow. “What, you’ve come here to offer your services, have you?” Ron could tell he meant it as a joke.

“I have.”

“You — what?”

Ron moved to the back of the room where the counter was. “Is there a place we can talk? Sit?”

George nodded, indicating his office at the back. “Come in. Tell me exactly what’s going through your mind, brother.”

Ron followed George into the office, noticing the boxes of products, tests and piles and piles of plans and drawings scattered throughout it. It was near impossible to move, let alone sit, but George managed to find two chairs beneath the mess. 

Ron sat in an old wooden chair that wasn’t very comfortable, but it’d do. 

“So,” George said, not wasting any time. “Tell me. How are you supposed to help me out when you’re out there fighting all the bad guys all the time?”

“I’ve decided to leave the Aurors.”

George’s eyes widened. He didn’t speak for a few seconds. “Are you serious?” he eventually asked.

Ron nodded. “I’ve decided it’s not for me. The days are long, most spent inside an office rather than being out on the field. And even if they were, I’d much rather come home to Rosie and Hermione in one piece than beat up, or not at all…”

“Wow,” George said, scratching his head. “That’s… that’s huge. The Aurors are like —”

“Not everything it’s talked up to be,” Ron said. “At least not for me. I’ve been wanting to for a while, but it’s been hard. I know we’ll be losing income, and with a baby…”

“Yeah, you have a kid now,” George said thoughtfully. 

“Yeah, and it changes things.”

“So, you want to come and work for me instead?” George said. “The safer option?”

Ron nodded. “Something like that. And, also… I can see you need the help.”

George laughed. “That’s a step down, don’t you think? From an Auror to standing behind a counter taking money from eager children and tired parents, or stocking shelves.”

“It’s what I need right now.”

George thought for a moment. “Does Hermione know about this? I mean, does she know of your plans, or —”

“She knows I plan on leaving. She… gets it. I think. She doesn’t know I’m here talking to you, though. Not about this.”

“And she’ll be okay with you moving from there to… here? I know how she feels about my products…”

“It’s not really her choice,” Ron said shortly, then sobered. “I think she’ll feel better if I have a plan, which I do now. If you’ll have me, I mean.”

“Of course I’ll have you!” George said. “Merlin, I could use any help I can get. Though, it doesn’t solve my issue of staff. Verity said she was out of here the moment I found someone to replace her…”

“At least you’ll be working with your brother?” Ron offered, a sheepish smile forming.

“Huh. Yeah, that’ll —” He paused, something in his expression changing. Ron wondered if the mention of brother had brought back memories of Fred; how, were Fred here, they wouldn’t be in this predicament. But then his mouth broke out into a grin.

“What?” Ron questioned. “What’s so funny?”

“I just had a thought!” George said excitedly. “You know I’m looking for someone to run the shop in Hogsmeade. Well, the shop that doesn’t yet exist. What if that’s you?”

“What?” Ron said, taken aback by this turn. He’d come here offering his services to help his brother, not… not take charge of a whole shop. 

“Well… think about it!” George said. “You know I want someone I can trust, and I can trust you. These days I can, anyway. I mean, you’ve got a wife who keeps you in check, and you’re a dad now, which is a hell of a lot of responsibility. And we’d keep it in the family, too. I run this place, you run the one in Hogsmeade. The boss.” He thought some more, giving Ron the opportunity to speak. 

“I’m not sure I’m out for —”

“I have an even better offer for you!” George cut in as if Ron hadn’t even spoken. He looked at Ron gleefully. “Become part owner with me?”

“What?” Ron’s mouth opened. “No, no, that’s not what I —”

“You’re serious about leaving the Aurors, right?” George continued.

“Yeah, but —”

“I can guarantee that this business is doing well enough that being part owner would not be much of a difference to what you’re earning with the Aurors. Maybe, if we have a good week, it could be even better.”

“George, I’m not sure I —”

“It was built to be run by two,” George said. “Fred and I. It’s hard doing it on my own. It’s exhausting, not to mention that my whole life is based around how well it does. Did you know I haven’t actually had a girlfriend since… well… since forever? And I haven’t even been on a date? I don’t have the time to even think about dating, because all my attention is on keeping this shop up and running.”

“No,” Ron said warily.

“There the rest of you are, living your lives, in long-term relationships, married,  kids… and here I am —”

“Running the most popular business in wizarding England,” Ron interjected. 

George smiled and then shrugged, leaning back in his chair. “True enough. But… it’d be good to have someone to share the responsibility with. You know, deal with some owl orders. Have some fresh ideas, too.” He gestured vaguely to the shop front. “You might not remember this, but way back, you and Harry came in here with a little crawling Teddy and you suggested I put in some things suitable for the real little ones.”

Ron frowned. He didn’t remember that. 

“Well, I took that on board and they’re some of my most popular products outside of the school range. So, you’ve got the ideas, Ron. Maybe bring those ideas to the table. Have them here. Work on them with me. As my partner.”

Ron opened his mouth to protest again, but when he searched for an argument, nothing actually came. Other than him knowing absolutely nothing about how to run a business, this seemed like an even better opportunity than his original plan to offer his assistance. 

It seemed all too surreal, and a little unbelievable that everything seemed to be falling into place. He was walking away from one job and into another that was potentially just as good financially, if not better. 

But, there was one big problem. He wanted to spend more time with Rose and be present more. Taking on something such as this wouldn’t allow for that.

“Mate, I must say, this is a huge thing, and I appreciate it, but, the whole reason for me doing this is to be with my daughter more —”

“You can have her here,” George said. “I mean, when Hermione’s back at work and everything, you can have her here. I see the babies brought in here all the time. The bright colours entertain them and they love it. Besides, she’d be a huge selling factor.”

“So, you want to use my kid as a sales tool?” Ron questioned.

“No, but it can’t hurt. My point is, though, you can have her here and work. And, if you can’t come in, then you can easily do stuff from home.” He pointed up. “I sit up there often. Well, I did, when I had the numbers to be down here. It’s nice at times. Being the boss has its perks.”

Ron shook his head, but not as an answer, more trying to process everything that had happened in the past five minutes. The scariest part was that he was almost considering the offer as a serious opportunity. 

“I can see you’re torn,” George said. “You can think about it. I got a bit excited. But… I’d love to work with my little brother. Plus, I know you wouldn’t let me down.”

Ron wasn’t as confident in that assumption, but he nodded. 

“When you say ‘part owner’,” Ron began slowly, “you mean like…”

“Literally part owner. Half of this would be yours. I’d ask you to buy it off me, but… honestly, you’d just be filling a gap that has been here for seven years. So… just… fill that gap. And, if anything happened to you and me, you’d have something for Rose to inherit, and any future kids you might have. Merlin knows I won’t be having them anytime soon.”

A sinking feeling filled Ron. Was George asking him to replace Fred? Was that the reason? That he needed someone to fill a hole that hadn’t ever been filled since Fred died? He didn’t want to be that person. He didn’t want to be Fred. He couldn’t be Fred.

George seemed to know what he was thinking. “Don’t worry, I’m not asking you to replace him. I just want you to fill the gap — and all the work — he left me with. Besides, I think he’d be happy to know it was you who was taking over.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Ron said. “Both of you never took me all that seriously…”

“Yeah we did,” George said, grinning. “We greatly admired the way you always got yourself into trouble, doing dangerous things…”

“You never showed it.”

“That’s because teasing you was so much more fun.” George chuckled. “If that’s going to be the deciding factor of your decision, though, then on behalf of Fred and I… I apologise for all the shit we did back in the day. We were young, too. I’d like to think we’ve both matured.”

“Yeah. We have, I guess.”

George took a blank piece of parchment from the desk near him and snatched up a quill. He scribbled something on it and passed it to Ron. “That’s the standard profit we make each week, excluding what I pay for staff and products and things. On an average week, that’s what I take home for myself. Happy to split it fifty-fifty with you because with an extra shop, that means more customers and it might just double. But it’ll go up for sure.”

Ron accepted the slip and read it. He did a quick calculation of half the figure and realised it was only a little less than what he was earning with the Aurors. He looked back at George, eyes wide. “It’s this successful?”

George nodded. “The shop, the owl orders, yeah, it’s doing alright. People need a laugh.” He took the slip back from Ron and smiled. “So, what do you say? Will you be my partner?”

Ron really couldn’t see a reason to say no. If George’s numbers were right, their income would be virtually the same as before, but it would contain the flexibility of being able to have Rose with him. And on days that he couldn’t get to the shop, he could stay at home with her and… work. Perhaps he could do the owl orders and send them all off. It was exactly what he wanted. Needed.

“Erm, yeah, I guess,” Ron said, breaking out into a grin. “Completely unexpected, because I thought I was just offering you some help, but this might just be perfect for what I’m after. You’d have to show me the ropes, though. And teach me how all the products work, because I’m not exactly caught up with that. But… yeah, if you’ll have me.”

George jumped up, whooping. He then clapped Ron on the shoulder. “Welcome aboard, partner. You are officially part of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes.”

Ron smiled, and then beamed. “Yeah… yeah I am!” Somehow, this felt right. Like he’d made the right decision. 

“How long will it take you to finish up with the Aurors?” George said.

Ron shrugged. “A month or two? I haven’t told anyone but Harry yet.”

“How about we say March?” George said. “I’m going to send an owl tonight accepting the conditions of the Hogsmeade premise. It’ll take a month or two to get all the products over, the signage up, so that works, I think!”

“Yeah, March is good!” Ron said. “Wow…”

“Yes, yes, it’s happening so fast. We’ll find some new employees. Verity will be pleased to be out, and Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes will be more successful than ever!” George clapped Ron on the back again. 

“Now to just tell Hermione the good news!” Ron said, sarcasm etching his voice with the words good news. He knew the last thing she’d want would be to refer to her husband as the part-owner of a joke shop. It was probably much more exciting to tell everyone she was married to an Auror.  

“She’ll be alright,” George said. “Show her the profit I make. She won’t say no after that.” He glanced down at his watch. “It’s getting late, but how about I stop by tomorrow morning? We can go through it with her so she’s on board?”

Ron nodded. “Yeah, that might be for the best. If she hears it from you, she might be —”

“Less inclined to agree,” George said thoughtfully.

“I was going to say more inclined. I know nothing about running a business, but believe it or not, she admires your success, even if she doesn’t like what you sell. How about ten tomorrow? That gives us time to sort Rosie out and whatnot.”

George nodded. “Ten is fine. I’ll break the good news to Verity and then… leave her to run the place and head on over. I can’t wait to see little Rose again.”

Ron smiled. “She’ll be glad to see you, too.”

George clapped his shoulder. “Once again, welcome aboard, mate. I look forward to having you on my team.”

“Thanks,” Ron said. He left the shop and Disapparated home, landing on his doorstep. When he came in, he found Hermione once again in the kitchen with Rose asleep in her bouncer on the table.

Hermione smiled. “Everything with George okay?” she asked as he kissed her.

“Better than okay,” Ron said, grinning. “He’s coming round tomorrow. I’ve solved the problem of what I’m going to do when I leave the Aurors.”

[whenihaveyouromione]

When I Have You - Chapter 95

Read on Fanfiction.net or ao3.

---

Chapter 95

Rose’s face lit up when Ron came into the kitchen. Hermione had her sitting on her lap while she tried to juggle her breakfast. Ron didn’t know what she’d been doing prior to his appearance, but ever since her first smile two weeks ago, it was all she seemed to do now when she saw either of them. 

Ron returned her smile, his heart aching with the knowledge that he wasn’t going to get to see that smile all day, every day anymore. 

“You like the robes, Rosie?” he asked, holding out his arms. “I haven’t put them on since you’ve been here. It feels strange wearing them again.” He crouched by Hermione’s chair, coming level with his daughter’s face. Her mouth spread into another smile when he tickled her under her chin. “I’m really going to miss you. It’s going to be hard.” He lifted Rose from Hermione.

He’d known since before she was born that this moment would come. What he hadn’t known back then was just how much he’d love every moment he spent with his daughter. Part of him had even thought that maybe after six weeks of being stuck at home with a baby who needed him for everything, he’d appreciate his job more than had before.

Instead, it had confirmed that he didn’t want to be an Auror anymore so firmly that he’d resented even dressing in the robes that had once made him so proud. Not that it was dangerous these days, but his job had a history of being hard. People died doing what he did. The very thought of anything happening to him — abandoning his daughter — made him physically ill. 

“You’ll be fine,” Hermione said confidently as he tickled Rose again, resulting in a third smile from her. “It’ll take a bit to get used to, but you will get used to it.”

Ron gave a non-committal nod. He’d not expressed his uncertainty to Hermione since that one time two years ago — before she was even pregnant. How had he let this go on for that long? He should have made his decision back then, but something always seemed to come up. His injury against the Black Robes, losing their baby, then having Rose. He just always felt like he would be letting people down if he were to leave. And the question of what was he supposed to do instead always entered his mind.

There really was nothing else for him. He was overqualified for almost every other job now, and he’d lose a large chunk of his income doing almost anything else. Now that they had a baby, they needed every Galleon possible.  

“I’m sure they won’t give you too much work on your first day. Just a lot of catch-up and briefings,” Hermione continued, mistaking his silence as worry.

“You don’t know Robards like I do,” Ron said, kissing Rose’s forehead and reluctantly handing her back to Hermione. “He’ll throw me right into everything with the expectation that I’m up to the task, lack of sleep not considered.”

Hermione kissed him. “You’ll be okay. Just think about coming home. And, please, actually make it home.”

Ron smiled. “I doubt they’ll put me in the field. Have any plans today?”

“We might go for a walk this morning. Then when she’s sleeping, I might actually start preparing for me to go back to work.”

“You still have six weeks left!” Ron protested. 

Hermione smiled. “I know, but unlike you, I don’t like leaving things to the last minute. There’ll be a lot to catch up on.”

“You’re also supposed to be using this time to spend with our daughter,” Ron reminded her. 

“Which is why I said when she’s asleep. And I don’t mean I’m going to be at it all day, or exerting myself. I just might send in some memos, and get a rundown on what’s happening.”

“I’ll check up on Malfoy for you,” Ron assured her.

“That’s not what I meant —”

“I’ll still check in.” He kissed her again. “Please don’t do too much.”

“I won’t.”

Ron lingered in the kitchen for a moment longer, watching his wife and daughter.

“Ron?”

Ron shook his head. “It’s harder than I thought,” he said, and he kissed Rose’s forehead again, and gave Hermione another kiss. And before he could change his mind, he left them there and Floo’d to the Ministry, not at all happy about the bustling atrium he found himself stepping into. 

As he stood by the grates, taking in the familiar, yet unfamiliar, sights, he couldn’t help but wonder just how he’d ever thought that this was what he’d wanted. If he was being honest, the most exciting part of this career for him was getting offered a position in the Aurors. Training had been good, too, but it had basically ended there for him. 

It was the title, he thought. The prestige and status that came with being an Auror. That had mattered to him when he was eighteen, the sixth child of Molly and Arthur Weasley and the new boyfriend of Hermione Granger. It had been important to be recognised, and acknowledged, for doing something worthwhile. Back then, he hadn’t even considered that he’d receive an Order of Merlin, First Class award, or that his name would be in the history books for new Hogwarts students to learn about. Back then, he’d been lost, confused and traumatised from the war, and being offered a job in the Aurors had seemed like the perfect fix. He was doing exactly what he’d always dreamed of, not once thinking about the consequences of jumping straight into doing something his mind just wanted to simultaneously forget. 

There were so many more important things than recognition for him now. Rose was the first that came to his mind. Maybe if he didn’t have her to consider, he could stick it out. Maybe he could do what he’d always done when these thoughts had come to him and he’d brush them aside, convincing himself that this was what they needed. But he saw things differently now that she was in his life. He didn’t care what others thought, whether he was successful; he just wanted to be a good dad to Rose and a good husband to Hermione, and make them both happy. 

He had actually made the decision to go to Robards and give his notice — deal with Hermione’s reaction when he returned home unexpectedly — when a hand clasped his shoulder. 

He spun, coming face to face with a grinning Harry. 

“Been so long you can’t remember your way to the office, huh?” Harry said, laughing. 

“What?” Ron questioned, coming to and realising he’d been standing there with what was probably a dumb expression on his face. 

“You’re just standing there, mate,” Harry said. “It’s tough coming back at first, isn’t it? Rose keeping you up?”

Ron looked at Harry, taking in his best friend. Harry seemed to belong here, standing in his Auror robes. There were rumours spreading far and wide that Harry was Robards next in line to be Head, and if Kingsley had any sense, he’d do just that. Harry was made for a job like this; it was ingrained into him to protect others from the evils that were out there. In comparison, Ron felt like an imposter in his robes. Maybe he’d belonged once, but he knew that he didn’t anymore and it was about time he actually said that out loud. He’d taken Hermione’s advice — he’d given it time. But his feelings remained. They’d grown stronger, even. He couldn’t pretend anymore. 

Harry frowned. “She really not sleeping, huh?”

“Rosie’s fine,” Ron said. He ran his fingers through his hair. “She’s great. That’s the issue, really.”

Harry’s frown deepened. “I’m not following.”

Ron nodded. “Fancy a small chat before we start?”

“Of course,” Harry said, and he smiled. “You can tell me all about that amazing daughter of yours.”

“It’s not like you haven’t met her,” Ron said as they pushed their way through the workers to the lifts. “Let’s go to the courtrooms. I can get into Hermione’s private office down there.”

“I know I’ve met her, but she’s my niece and I’m interested since we last saw her. You and Hermione handling parenthood okay?”

Ron nodded. “Honestly, I feel as if it’s something that I should have been doing years ago. It just feels…”

“Natural?” Harry finished. “Yeah, I’ve seen you. You seem pretty comfortable playing dad.”

“Yeah. I dunno. Maybe it’s the Weasley in me, but I just love every moment with her. It doesn’t feel right being back here, being away from her.”

“Worried Hermione won’t do it right?” Harry teased as they stepped into the lift for the courtrooms. 

Ron smiled, shaking his head. “She’s nailing it. And she’ll nail the work-life balance when it comes to it, too. As for me… I’m not sure I’m cut out for the whole working and being away from my kid aspect.”

“It’s really hard,” Harry sympathised. “It took me months to get used to it, but you do adjust. And kids so young are incredibly resilient. Admittedly, Ginny is rostered to begin training for the Harpies again in April, so that’ll be a challenge, but we have a plan. But I understand how hard it is to leave for the first time, not knowing what they’re doing, if they’re okay…”

The lift came to a grinding halt and Ron and Harry stepped out. Being early, there were hardly any people in the courtrooms. They walked in silence for the short trip to Hermione’s office just off courtroom two. Ron used his wand to unlock the door, breaking her enchantments she hadn’t even told Maia or Malfoy how to get past. 

The office was small, but it was pristine. It was the place Hermione worked when she had back-to-back cases to handle on busy days. On most days, even Ron wasn’t allowed in here unless it was to drag her away from her work. 

Ron moved to her desk and sat down in the chair. Harry grabbed the only other one in the tiny space and sat on the other side. He looked at Ron sympathetically. 

“I’m guessing all this is overwhelming. Being back here after being in such a nice little bubble with your new family. I experienced that, too.”

Ron leant back in the chair. Harry was briefly aware of his dying interest in being an Auror, but he always got the sense that Harry didn’t fully comprehend just how much he didn’t like it anymore. Because of that, he’d not really spoken to Harry about it, nor had he spoken to Hermione, who also didn’t get it. But if he didn’t talk it through then he’d continue being stuck where he was with no way forward. 

“You remember way back before Rosie was born and I said that I was considering maybe… leaving the Aurors?”

Harry nodded. “Yeah. How you weren’t sure if it was for you anymore…”

“Well, being a parent really puts perspective in your life, as I’m sure you’d be aware of.”

“Of course,” Harry said slowly. “I’m not really liking where this is going. I’m getting the impression that this new perspective hasn’t told you that you should stay here.”

Ron shook his head, saying nothing. 

Opposite him, Harry also leant back in his chair, sighing loudly. After a moment, he looked back at Ron and asked, “So, you’re really going to leave?”

“I’ve been dreading it since she was born, but the moment I stepped out of the Floo, I just knew I didn’t belong here anymore. I feel like an imposter wearing these robes. I keep thinking about how much I just want to be at home with my baby.”

“No job’s going to allow that, mate.”

“Yeah… I know that. Which I think is why I’ve been here for as long as I have. There’s nothing else I can do that I’m qualified for that will allow me to be with her and work. But I think I’ve just now reached a point where I no longer care. Being an Auror requires one hundred and ten percent and right now, I think I can only give eighty.”

Harry stared thoughtfully for a moment at a spot on Hermione’s empty desk. Then he said, “I’m not going to be able to talk you out of this, am I?”

“Do you want to?” Ron asked. “Do you want to work with someone who’s miserable the whole day?”

“I want to work with my best mate,” Harry said. “This might sound cheesy, but coming into work every day and seeing you there is always a highlight. Before we had James, I didn’t see my wife for weeks at a time. It got lonely, so seeing you and Hermione here each day… kind of made things easier.”

“You’ll still have Hermione,” Ron said. 

Harry laughed. “True. But it’s not quite the same as having a laugh with you, is it? I don’t share an office with Hermione, which I’m admittedly grateful for.”

“That’s my wife you’re talking about.”

Harry grinned. “But this isn’t about me and I’ll cope. I’d never ask you to stay in a job you’re unhappy in just to entertain my sorry self when it’s just me.”

“Ginny won’t be taking James to training, will she?” Ron said.

Harry nodded. “True, I suppose.” There was a moment’s silence before Harry spoke again. “So, when you leave, what will you do instead?”

Ron shook his head. “I just want to be a dad right now. I don’t want to have to deal with anything else but Rosie. Then… when the time comes, I suppose I’ll look for something less strenuous. Something where I can leave every day and know that I’ll come back home without worrying if I’ll die or get hurt.”

Harry nodded. “So, a peaceful life?”

“Something like that.”

Harry laughed. 

“What?” Ron questioned.

“It’s just… I was thinking about the day we met. On the train, we were eleven years old. My first impression of you was that I liked you very much, but I never would have put you as the person who sixteen years later would want to give up a successful career so he could spend more time with his baby daughter.”

“Sixteen years ago I probably would have forgone the kids and dived head first into being an Auror,” Ron admitted. “But… things change. I’ve changed, and that’s not me anymore.”

“You’re a good dad, Ron, and I know how much you love Rose. I can’t really argue against wanting to spend every moment you can with her. I just… I guess I just want to say… give it a day or two?”

“Thanks,” Ron said, feeling a weight lift off his chest. “That means a lot. Thanks for understanding.”

Harry nodded. “Of course. But…” He stood up. “Are you planning on quitting right now, or do you think you can manage another day with me?”

Ron also stood. “I think I can manage one more day,” he said. “Besides, I’ve told Hermione none of this and I don’t think she’s going to take it as well as you have. After all, I’ll be telling her that I’m quitting fifty percent of our income with a newborn to care for.”

“She’ll understand,” Harry said.

“Have you met Hermione?” Ron asked, smiling. “She’s more likely to kill me. But… at least I’ll die knowing I made the right decision in the end.”

“So, you’re not saying anything today then?” Harry asked. “I mean to the others? Robards?”

Ron thought for a moment as they left the courtrooms. Before Harry had found him standing listlessly in the atrium, he’d been about to march to Robards’ office and say he wasn’t coming back again. But… he really should speak to Hermione first. Not to ask for her opinion, because his mind had been made up, but so she knew what was going through his head. So she understood why he had to do this. He couldn’t very well quit and then come home and say he had no job anymore. 

“Nah,” he said eventually. “I guess I’ve just got to stick it out for a little longer before I’m gone completely. So, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone.”

“Of course I won’t,” Harry said. 

Their conversation changed to other things for the remainder of the journey to the Auror Office. Familiarity did return to Ron as they walked through the corridors, passing people he knew. In a way, Ron would miss the life he had led here for the past seven years. It had had its moments. There were many fond memories, most of which involved Harry and Dean and Neville and working with them. There was also having lunch with Hermione, going to her office in the afternoon to get her to come home. 

But it all just kept coming back to Rose. Things needed to change because of her and being an Auror was something in the past for him. 

“Hey, welcome back!” It was the first thing Ron heard upon setting foot in the Auror office again. It was Dean, clapping him on the back. “It feels like forever since I last saw you in here.”

“Huh, yeah. It’s because it has been,” Ron answered, smiling at Dean. 

“You look well,” Dean then noted, looking Ron up and down. “Parenthood treating you well, then?”

“Yeah,” Ron said. “It’s great. I love it.”

“Sleeping alright?”

“That’s the hard part.” 

Ron was welcomed back by his other fellow Aurors, all approaching him within the first half hour and either congratulating him on having a baby or saying they were pleased to see him. By the time he sat down at his desk, which over the weeks had accumulated a nice pile of paperwork, he was feeling more appreciated than he’d ever felt. 

It didn’t feel as if his colleagues were just happy to see him because their workload had increased in his absence, but because they actually valued him being there. He thought back to all the rumours he’d caught wind of in his time here, how people talked about how he and Harry were some of the best Aurors they’d ever seen. He’d always dismissed them, thinking his involvement in the war had a lot to do with that image, but… maybe not. He really was decent at this job, he knew that. Even if he was qualified for another job, would he be as good at it? At the same time, none of it made him want to change his mind. 

Robards was the only one who seemed indifferent to Ron’s return. At nine on the dot, he marched into the office, calling a quick meeting. 

“Over here, over here,” he beckoned, drawing them over to where he was perched on his desk. His eyes fell on Ron and he nodded briefly. “Welcome back, Weasley. I trust you can join in and catch up?”

“Yeah,” Ron answered. “I can follow.”

Robards nodded again. “Good. Listen, Aurors, you’ll be finding yourselves out of the office more this week. We are interviewing our imprisoned Black Robes again and I want all of you to take on at least one. There’s more than enough of you to do that, so you’ll each be given a time and person.”

“We’ve interviewed them already,” Dean interrupted, sounding almost annoyed at the prospect. “More than once. They’re not speaking.”

“Which is why we’re planning to break them down,” Robards said. “Bother them until one cracks. Spelled or not, they can be broken if the will is there.” He waved his wand. “You’ll each find your schedules on your desks. With the Magical Law office temporarily understaffed and… er… running less efficiently, we’ll need to do some of it ourselves.”

Ron looked at Harry who offered a guilty shrug. When they got back to their desks, Ron snatching up his weekly schedule, he said, “So, Malfoy’s not pulling his weight then?”

“It’s been a bit chaotic,” Harry admitted. “He’s technically in charge because Maia is under Hermione’s wing. He’s… well, he’s not as efficient as Hermione is.”

“You mean he’s lazy?” Ron asked, feeling satisfaction settle inside him. “I take it you’ve deliberately kept this from Hermione?”

“What’s the point in ruining her maternity leave time?” Harry said. “Besides, we’re managing. Hermione’s trained Maia well. She’s doing fine.”

“Stupid git,” Ron muttered, finally looking at his schedule. He was rostered in for an interview on Wednesday, which was his last shift until Saturday. Well, that was something then. He got two days off with Rose.

“In all fairness,” Harry continued, “I doubt anyone could be as efficient as Hermione.”

“He’s still a git,” Ron said. He slid some pieces of parchment towards him, eyes scanning them briefly. He couldn’t wait to be shot of this — pouring over report after report, rarely actually getting to use any exciting magic. He probably wouldn’t get to use the spells in any other job either, but at least he wouldn’t show up with the expectation each day and leaving disappointed. 

Ron had to admit that the day went well considering. He got through the work, the knowledge that very soon he wouldn’t be sitting here doing it anymore. In a way, it made things a whole lot easier and he couldn’t help but laugh at the fact that had he attended work every day with the knowledge that it was one of his last, maybe he would have enjoyed it more. 

He worked solidly until midday, when Harry said it was their break. Standing up, he admired that the pile on Ron’s desk was a lot smaller than it had been three hours ago. 

“Efficient,” he said with an impressed nod. 

“Yeah, well, can’t leave you lot here with all the work, can I?” Ron joked, also getting up. “Though, a lot of it was just simple stuff. I haven’t been here for six weeks, have I? Got no idea what’s going on, really.”

“Still,” Harry said, “you’ll be missed.”

They began walking to the lunchroom, Ron, for the first time since he started training, feeling as if today was actually going to be a good day.

…

Despite the good day he did have, it didn’t stop Ron from getting out of there the moment the large clock in the Auror office ticked over to five. He was stepping out of his fireplace by the time it was five-oh-five, hearing Hermione’s voice from the kitchen. 

“Hey,” Hermione said when he came in. She left the pot on the stove to come over to kiss him. 

Ron looked around in search of Rose, only to find her fast asleep in an unfamiliar bassinet that sat on the table. 

He went over to peer into it. 

“Oh, I bought that today,” Hermione said. “You know, just so we aren’t doing things one-handed. She loves it.”

Ron smiled into the basket, watching for a moment the rise and fall of his daughter’s chest, before turning back to his wife. 

“How was your first day back?” Hermione asked brightly. 

“Yeah, pretty good, actually,” Ron said. “How was your first day alone with Rosie?”

“You know what?” Hermione said, “I thought it would be hard. I thought she might miss you, but we were fine. I ended up taking her into the city. We got the bus — I didn’t really want to Apparate her just yet — and I bought the basket. We went out and about and… it was really fun.”

Ron smiled. “That’s great,” he said. “I’m glad you had fun. I missed her a lot today. It was hard being away.”

Hermione returned to the stove, peering into the saucepan before replacing the lid. “It’ll get easier,” she said. “But if it makes you feel better, I know she missed you, too.”

“I’m glad.” Ron came into the kitchen, leaning against one of the benches. He wasn’t exactly sure how to bring his decision up with Hermione, but he knew it was something he had to do sooner rather than later. He’d already put it off for far too long and he wasn’t going to do it anymore. “I came to a decision today,” he said after a moment.

“A decision? About what?” Hermione frowned at him. “Work?”

“Yeah,” Ron said. He bit his lower lip, searching for the words. “You know how a few years back, right when the Black Robes started and I got hurt and stuff?”

“Yes,” Hermione said warily. 

“And how I mentioned how I wasn’t sure if being an Auror was something I wanted to do anymore?”

“Yes,” Hermione said again. “But you got over that, didn’t you? I mean… you’ve been really enjoying it, haven’t you?” He heard the uncertainty in her voice, and he knew in that moment she was going to be disappointed in him. 

Ron shrugged. “It has been convenient ever since then,” he said, “but I’ve not really enjoyed it for many years.”

“What? But Ron… you’ve always wanted to —”

“Yeah, I know, it’s what I’ve always wanted to do,” Ron said. “And I’ve done it. Today when I was there, I hated it. I hated being away from Rose. I made the decision to leave the Aurors.”

Hermione said nothing. For the longest moment, she simply stared at him, her expression unreadable. Ron had known this would be hard for her to process, and telling her like this probably wasn’t the best way to do it. The timing was probably wrong, too, but the timing had always been wrong. He needed to do it. 

Eventually, she spoke. Her voice was barely audible. “You what?”

“I’m quitting,” Ron said. “I want to be here with Rosie. I want to be her dad, not someone who goes off doing dangerous things every day, not knowing whether I’ll ever get to see her again. Being an Auror is dangerous and I’d much rather come home every day to see her and you than dealing with Dark Wizards.”

Hermione opened her mouth but no sound came out. From the table, Rose whimpered and shifted, but didn’t wake. 

Eventually, she spoke. “Ron, you can’t just —”

“I’m doing it,” Ron said, his voice firm. “I know it’s not what you expected, or want, but it’s how I feel. I feel miserable going in every day. I get no enjoyment from doing any of the work anymore. It’s not what I thought it would be. There’s no fulfillment in it anymore.” He glanced over at his sleeping daughter. “But there’s a lot with her.”

“So, you’re just going to stay at home, then?” Hermione questioned, and he heard a hint of anger in the way she spoke. “Stay at home with Rose each day?”

“I hope to find another job eventually,” Ron said. “One that’s not as dangerous. But for now…” He looked over at his sleeping daughter. “For now, yeah, I just want to be here with her. You go back to work in six weeks and you were worrying about care for her. Well, now you don’t have to.”

Hermione shook her head. “That’s not the solution I wanted, Ron,” she said. “I’m actually really upset about this. That you made this decision without even talking to me about it.”

Ron nodded. “Yeah, I know. I’m —”

“You just made the decision without even discussing it!” Hermione continued. “You just went in today and decided you’d had enough, so you quit without any worry about how we’re going to handle this?”

“It’s not like that,” Ron said. “You know I was thinking about it —”

“Two years ago!” Hermione cried. “More than two years ago. Between then and now, you never said a word. Nothing that indicated you were unhappy. And now… now you just come home and tell me you’re quitting without any backup plan?”

“Hermione —”

“No, Ron,” Hermione said, “This isn’t okay. We just had a baby. We have a house, we have food to get, bills to pay… what I earn can’t cover all of that.” 

Ron rubbed his face with his hands. He’d known she’d be upset, but he’d hoped that if he explained that he wasn’t happy, then she’d understand and be supportive. But he had kind of sprung it on her out of the blue. He might have been feeling this for years, but she was right when she said he hadn’t spoken about it to her since the first time. He’d kept it to himself, going over and over the pros and cons of it all in his head, but never out loud. 

“I’m sorry,” he said after a moment. “I know this is a lot to take in. That it’s a shock. It’s just… when I got there today, all that backwards and forwards I was doing with myself, all that questioning, I just found the answer I was looking for.”

Hermione seemed to relax a little, taking a few deep breaths before she spoke again. “Ron,” she said gently, “I know you were struggling to leave Rose today. I know you love being with her, but you can’t just quit your job because you miss her. It’s… not how it works.”

“She’s not the reason I’m leaving,” Ron said. “She’s just the deciding factor. I don’t want a job that could risk me not coming home to her one day.” He thought for a moment. “Listen, I haven’t actually quit. I just made the decision to do it. I’m still going to go in tomorrow, and the day after. I’ll stay until something else comes up. Something that’s better for us.”

“This is perfect for us,” Hermione said quietly. “It always has been. It’s worked.”

“It doesn’t work anymore. Not for me.” He looked at Hermione, who now seemed torn between sympathising with him and being furious with him. “Hermione, I just don’t want to do it anymore. I’m unhappy there and because of that, I can’t do the job that’s required of me. Not to my best ability anymore. It’s been great, it really has, but there’s a job that I love more now and that’s being a dad. For me, I can’t give one hundred percent to both, so I choose Rosie.”

“She doesn’t bring us money,” Hermione said. 

“Yeah, I know. She brings us a lot more important things.”

Hermione glared up at him, and she must have seen something in his expression, because her expression softened. “You’re really that unhappy being an Auror?”

He nodded. “I am.”

“You should have said something sooner.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry. I just… it was just hard to make the decision to finally do it. I know that whatever I do, I won’t earn as much as I am now and that’s kept me from doing it sooner.”

Hermione’s eyes flickered to Rose again, who remained asleep, blissfully unaware of the changes that were about to befall her. She looked back up at Ron again. To his surprise, she smiled. “I suppose I can’t be too angry over you wanting to spend more time with her. I just… I just don’t know what we’re supposed to do in the meantime.”

Ron reached out and tugged her arm, drawing her towards him. He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her. “We’ll think of something,” he promised. “All I know is that you and Rosie — my family — are the most important people in my life and I want to do what’s best for all of us. I know you’ll handle it all so well. You’re a great mum, a great wife and you’re a great Head of office. You’ll move further and further up at the Ministry and I’ll be there to support you in every step. Meanwhile, I’m more than happy to take a step back so you don’t have to worry about her.”

Hermione sighed. “It will make caring for Rose a lot easier,” she conceded. 

“Mhm.”

“And you’re absolutely certain you don’t want to be an Auror anymore?”

“The only thing I was more sure of was marrying you,” Ron replied. “We’re a team, and this is what I need to do to make it work. And I’m completely okay with this decision.”

“Alright,” Hermione said after a moment. “I suppose I understand.”

“Thank you.” He kissed her again, and it was only then that he realised it was probably the most he’d kissed her since Rose was born. She always seemed to be in one or the other’s arms that they had barely touched each other in six weeks. 

After a moment, he pulled away. Rose’s cries quickly filled the kitchen and they smiled at each other.

“I’ve got her,” Ron said. And he went over to the basket, picking up his now-wailing daughter.

[whenihaveyouromione]

When I Have You - Chapter 94

Read on Fanfiction.net or ao3.

Self Promo: An invitation to my Discord book community The Global Book Nook. We talk about books and other things.

---

It was two o’clock exactly when the all too familiar screams woke Ron again. At first, he didn’t even open his eyes. It was the same thing every hour, like clockwork. Rose had been sleeping peacefully since eight, but when they came to bed at ten, Ron just had to drop his wand. He’d tried to rest it on the bedside table quietly, but it had slipped from his hands and rattled on the wooden floor, waking his daughter. 

Twenty minutes it had taken to settle her, and then just as he’d been drifting off, she’d cried again. Another twenty minutes and it happened at midnight. 

Now at two o’clock, he wasn’t even surprised. Just annoyed with himself. If he hadn’t dropped his wand, he’d probably be having at least an okay night’s sleep. 

He rolled over just as Hermione was dragging herself out of bed, looking as weary as he felt. 

“Do you want me to get her?” he mumbled.

“No,” she said, “you did last time. It’s my turn now.” 

He assumed Hermione went to get Rose from the bassinet at the foot of their bed, but he couldn’t have been sure, because even through her screaming, he drifted off to sleep, knowing that his daughter — at least for a bit — was tended to.

Nights were the worst thing about being a parent, he’d discovered in his first month with Rose. He adored her — loved seeing her in the mornings, loved playing with her, loved cuddling — but the nights were rough. It wasn’t even that she was a poor sleeper. She slept fine for a one-month-old baby, but for Ron, who wasn’t used to being woken multiple times in the night, it was hard. 

He had another two weeks before he had to return back to work and if the lack of sleeping continued, he wasn’t even sure he’d be able to do his job properly. It required high alertness to his surroundings at all times, and that wasn’t something he could achieve with broken sleep every night. 

It actually made him appreciate Harry a whole lot more. Ron knew for a fact that James had been a far worse sleeper than Rose, and he’d come to work cheerful and ready most days. Maybe he’d need to get some tips. 

When he woke again, it was to the sun shining through the window.

He sat bolt upright, his chest pounding. Rose had never slept for so long at once and his first thought was that something had happened to her. But then he realised her bed was empty and so was Hermione’s spot next to him. He briefly considered if Rose had woken again, but in his exhaustion, he’d failed to hear. 

The thought caused a wave of guilt to settle in him. He didn't want Hermione to think he wasn't interested in raising their daughter together, even though he struggled to get up when she woke up. 

He climbed out of bed, expecting to find Hermione downstairs with Rose, perhaps having her in the living room on a blanket and waving toys in front of her face to keep her busy. But when he came in to greet them, it was empty. No lights were on, all was quiet.

Ron frowned, suppressing a yawn. That was odd. 

He went back upstairs and checked Rose’s bedroom — the room she hadn’t actually yet slept in — and his heart soared with love. He smiled at Hermione and their sleeping daughter curled against Hermione’s chest. Hermione was in the nursing chair, also asleep. 

Still smiling, he knelt in front of Hermione and gently rested his hand on her knee. She woke instantly with a start. 

“Hey,” he said, “you weren’t here all night, were you?”

Hermione blinked a few times, looking around Rose’s bedroom as if to gather her bearings. Her eyes fluttered down to Rose against her chest before drifting back to Ron. “Oh, goodness, I must have fallen asleep.”

Ron smiled again. “You get some sleep,” he said, carefully pulling Rose from her arms. “I’ve got her now.”

“Oh, are you sure? You spent half the night with her, too…”

“I’m okay,” Ron assured her, slowly getting to his feet so as not to wake Rose. She shifted but didn’t wake. 

Typical, he thought. Wakes at me dropping my wand, but she gets transferred between people and she doesn’t stir. 

“Get some rest.”

Hermione pushed herself up from the chair. “You’re sure?” she asked again.

Ron nodded. “Completely.” 

Hermione made it to Rose’s door before she stopped and turned back to face him. “Oh,” she said.

“What?” Ron asked. 

“I just… I think… I changed her at some point in the night. And as I was changing her, I think she smiled at me.”

“Really?” Ron asked. “She smiled?” They’d been doing everything they could to convince her to smile at them, from funny noises to ridiculous dances, but nothing worked. She watched them curiously all the time but never cracked a smile. 

Hermione nodded. “I think so. But I was also very tired, so maybe I imagined it.” She left after that, and Ron had no doubt that she was asleep before he probably even reached the bottom of the stairs. 

For the first half an hour, Rose slept. Ron had become quite skilful at doing things one-handed. Having his wand, of course, helped, but he’d left that upstairs, so he made a coffee in the kitchen the Muggle way, using one hand. He also managed to make toast without his wand, too, and spread it with jam. 

All the while, Rose slept. For once, he could even sit at the table and eat and drink without her interrupting. It seemed that a wild night had exhausted her as much as him and she was enjoying a sleep-in. Though, not much of one. It was only seven thirty when she stirred. He had just been — quietly — putting his plate in the sink to be washed later when her little arms sprang up.

He looked down in time to see her eyes flutter open.

“Morning, Rosie,” he said, kissing the top of her head. 

She lifted her head ever so slightly off his chest, perhaps in an attempt to locate his voice. She hadn’t really mastered the head control thing yet, though, so it flopped back against him. Then she cried.

“It’s alright,” he soothed, beginning to rock her gently against him. “Bit of a shock, isn’t it, waking up to find your mum not here? She’s just resting for a few hours, so it’s you and me for a bit, alright? Are you hungry?” He laid his crying daughter across his arms. It didn’t stop the tears at all, but at least she could now see him. 

“Come on,” he said, “I’ll get you some food.” He rummaged one-handed in the kitchen, simultaneously doing his best to soothe Rose. She really wasn’t that used to taking a bottle, but it was something Hermione had already insisted on introducing in the hope that by the time she had to return to work, Rose would have the hang of it. Ron had tried giving it to her once or twice unsuccessfully, but Rose always knew that Hermione was around then. This time, she wasn’t.

He wasn’t even sure how to make a bottle, but he had watched Hermione do it and thought he could remember. She’d had both hands free those times, though. 

“It’s alright, it’s alright,” he said to Rose, “just give me a moment.”

A moment was a good few minutes — by the time he’d found everything, put it all together and then let it cool enough for Rose to take — and Rose was screaming to be fed. Shifting her into a position that was comfortable for both of them, he all but stuck the bottle into her mouth, and to his great surprise, she accepted it. 

After a moment of her getting used to it, she seemed content with what he offered. He smiled. “See,” he said, “not so bad when you’re hungry.”

He carried her and the bottle to the chair and sat in it, watching Rose as she drank. He wore a permanent smile whenever he watched her these days. Whether it be her flapping her arms and legs while lying on the floor, or her wide eyes taking in everything around her, he just loved her more than he’d loved anyone or anything. He liked being her dad, he liked spending every moment that he could with her. And he loved that it was Hermione he was doing all of this with.  

As her eyes began to close, content with a full belly, Ron realised there were only a few more weeks with mornings such as these. The knowledge unsettled him, and so he did his best to push it aside, enjoying the moments he did have. But soon, they’d have to start contemplating the logistics of what they were going to do. 

Already, Hermione occasionally spoke of what would happen when she returned to the Ministry. Whilst she spoke with worry and sadness, her brain — as usual — focused on all the practical things about how it would work. She had two more months left, and after that, they’d send Rose to her parents’ place to be cared for. 

It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Molly and Arthur — far from it — but she emphasised that they had lots of grandchildren. Rose was the only one Robert and Jane had, so it meant more to them to spend time with her. Though, even that seemed to make Hermione nervous. As much as she spoke of the practical, she still had an issue with leaving Rose and letting other people look after her. 

Ron didn’t either, but it was for a different reason for him.

It wasn’t fear or worry that something would happen to Rose if he wasn’t around. It was that no other job seemed as important as the one that involved raising Rose. He’d been unhappy with the Aurors for a while, but stuck it out because the money was good. But even that didn’t seem worth it anymore now that Rose was here. 

It seemed ridiculous, but he felt much happier where he was now — in his kitchen, sitting down and holding and feeding his daughter. And the last thing he wanted was to have to step away from this and go back and deal with criminals and Dark Magic. 

Rose and his home were everything the Aurors weren’t. Rose and Hermione were where his happiness was. The Ministry was where he felt unhappy. These almost five weeks had been the best of his life, and he didn’t want it to end.

Rose fell asleep sucking on the bottle. She hadn’t quite finished it, but he took it out of her mouth and set it on the table. He smiled again, just enjoying watching her sleep. 

Merlin, she was perfect. 

While Hermione slept, he busied himself with a few things around the house. All one-handed. 

It was nearing nine-thirty when Rose woke again, and Hermione was still nowhere to be seen. Ron resisted the urge to check on her, knowing that she needed to sleep for as long as she could. She was often the one up with Rose at nights — more than he was. 

Finding nothing else to do, he took her back into the living room where they’d set up a little play space for her. There wasn’t much at the moment, because she couldn’t do much. Just a few toys and a blanket that they lay her on. When he entered, Crookshanks jumped up off the sofa, meowing at the sudden disturbance. He’d come to Ron earlier searching for food, but had disappeared again after finishing his breakfast — obviously to nap on the sofa. 

His eyes fell on Rose and he meowed once more before stalking from the room, probably muttering in cat language about how everything had changed since she’d come home. Ron got the sense that their cat wasn’t too fond of the baby, preferring to leave whatever room Rose was in. 

Ron laughed at himself, laying Rose on the blanket. Their cat. When had he started thinking of Crookshanks as his — theirs? Probably when Kingsley had dumped him in his arms while Hermione was in Australia all those years ago. 

Merlin, how old was Crookshanks now? He hadn’t been young when Hermione had got him fourteen years ago. He’d be nearing twenty, Ron was certain. Wasn’t that how long cats lived?

“He’ll get used to you,” Ron told Rose, who probably hadn’t even noticed Crookshanks. “Just takes some time.” He reached for the small basket of her toys and took out the rattle she seemed to like the most. Her eyes widened when she saw it, her legs kicking in excitement. 

Ron placed it in her hand, wondering if she would actually shake it, but her hand merely grasped it and then unclasped it a moment later. She was watching Ron now. 

“Not quite there yet,” Ron said. “That’s all good.” He shook the rattle in front of her. More kicking her legs. He did it again, and her eyes followed it as he moved it around. They did that for longer than Ron thought could be entertaining, but eventually, he put it down and took out his wand, which he’d retrieved from upstairs. “Want to see something cool, Rosie?” he said. 

He took all the toys from the basket and laid them on the floor next to her. A moment later, he waved his wand, and the toys lifted from the ground, forming a ring of colours and sound above Rose.

She was mesmerised. It was almost like hypnotism the way she followed them. Nothing else in the world seemed to exist for her at that moment — just the toys, making a rainbow in front of her. 

On occasion, he thought he saw her mouth curl a little, which could have been a small smile. But there was nothing substantial that convinced him that she actually had. 

“Are you going to smile?” he said, guiding the toys back to the basket. “Or did your mum just make that up?”

Rose was back to watching him now, his voice and face also mesmerising for her. 

Ron grinned. “It doesn’t take much to make you happy, does it? Is it going to be this simple all the time? I doubt it. I’ve seen your cousins — Victoire, Dominique. They were quiet and calm once, too. Now they’re little demons who’ll terrorise you.”

Movement from the corner of his eye distracted him. He turned to see Hermione entering the living room, still looking tired, but not completely drained. She smiled. “This is all too familiar,” she said, joining them on the floor.

“What is?” Ron asked.

“You and Rose, playing together. I see it a lot. It makes my heart happy.”

“How are you feeling now?” Ron asked. 

She nodded. “So much better… thanks, Ron.”

“It’s okay. We had fun, didn’t we, Rosie? We saw some magic, you had a bottle —”

“She was okay?” Hermione interrupted.

Ron nodded. “When there’s no other choice, a bottle is quite appealing. She slept after, I did some stuff, and now we’re playing. We’ve had a good morning.”

“I’m glad,” Hermione said. She stroked Rose’s cheek affectionately, and they watched as her mouth parted into what — this time — was an unmistakable smile. 

Hermione retracted her hand, looking at Ron. “You saw that, right?” she said. “She definitely smiled?”

“Yes!” Ron said, beaming. “She definitely smiled. At you. I tried to get her to do it, but couldn’t get anything. But then you come in and she gives you the biggest grin I’ve ever seen.”

Hermione repeated her gesture with Rose, and again, another smile. Ron could see the flush of joy across Hermione’s face. “She’s so sweet,” she whispered. “Oh, she’s just so cute.”

“Of course she is,” Ron said. “She’s our daughter. We were always going to make cute babies.”

Hermione laughed. “I can’t believe she smiled at us.”

“At you,” Ron reminded her. “I couldn’t get anything in the two and a bit hours she was with me.” 

Hermione flushed with joy once again and picked Rose up off the ground, cuddling her. 

“Breakfast?” Ron asked, standing up.

“Yes, but I can —”

“What do you want?” Ron interrupted before she could refuse his offer to get it for her.

“Toast, I suppose,” Hermione said, smiling. “Thanks.”

Ron returned her smile and went to the kitchen to start making her breakfast. He didn’t mind doing all this, he decided. Housework wasn’t his favourite, but it wasn’t too bad when he had a wand to assist in most of it. Besides, he liked looking after Hermione. Even if she constantly insisted that she was capable of doing things by herself, he still liked doing it for her. It wasn’t the point. He knew she could do anything without him, and better than him. She could definitely do more than he could or ever could. But the little things like preparing breakfast was something he actually enjoyed doing. For her, that was. If anyone else asked him to make them breakfast, he’d tell them exactly where to go and where they could put their request. 

He just wished that he could do this every morning.

[whenihaveyouromione]

When I Have You - Chapter 93

Read on Fanfiction.net or ao3.

---

Chapter 93

Rose screamed. It was the most ear-splitting, agonising scream that Ron had ever heard from her in her brief life. The scream was so loud that Dominique, who had been thrilled to meet her newest baby cousin, ran away and hid behind Fleur. 

“She’s loud,” Dominique said. “Why is she crying so much?”

“Zat is what babies do,” Fleur said. 

“Yeah, I wouldn’t judge too much, Dom,” Bill added fondly. “You were probably the loudest of the bunch.”

Dominique stuck out her bottom lip in a pout as Molly attempted to soothe a screaming Rose.

Hermione flinched beside Ron, and he could tell she was fighting every instinct to take her daughter from his mother’s arms. 

But a moment later, Rose’s cries were reduced to whimpers and eventually stopped altogether. 

“Seven kids and five grandchildren. She knows how to do it,” Ron whispered. “She’s on top of it.”

Hermione winced. “It just feels so wrong when I'm not the one…” 

“Get used to being part of a large family.” Ron kissed her temple. “There're heaps of people around to help.”

Now that Rose had settled down again, Dominique ventured back over and planted a big wet kiss on her cheek, grinning afterwards.

“So cute,” she said.

“That,” George said, coming to stand in between Hermione and Ron, “is the truth.” He threw his arm across each of their shoulders. “You make cute kids. Well done. Though she’s loud, isn’t she?”

Despite his brother's mocking, Ron was in a state of such happiness that he didn't even notice it. “It’s her first time meeting this lot. Scary for anyone at the best of times, but terrifying for who has been here a week and only seen our house and St Mungo's.”

“Hm, true,” George said. He dropped his arms, watching Rose being rocked by Molly for a moment, and then continued. “How are you holding up, Hermione? Ginny told us about Rose’s grand entrance. You doing okay?”

Hermione nodded. “Yeah. I’m okay. Better than anyone thinks I should be. Ron keeps fussing over me — not letting me do anything. I can’t even shower without him making sure I haven’t fallen over —”

“That’s not true,” Ron cut in. He looked at George. “She’s exaggerating. I’m just trying to do my part. All the books say I’m supposed to be a support after —”

“Yeah, but not a control freak.” George nudged him. 

“No, he’s great,” Hermione said, offering Ron a smile. “A great husband, an even better dad.”

“Thank you,” Ron replied. 

Another scream had them turning back to Molly, who was surrounded by a pack of curious children. 

“Victoire!” she scolded, and the eldest jumped. “Do not poke her.”

This time, Hermione seemed unable to control herself. She hurried over and all but snatched Rose from Molly's arms.

“I think she’s getting tired,” she blurted. “Do you mind if I put her down upstairs, Molly? It’s been a big morning for her, meeting everyone.”

“Of course, dear,” Molly said, sounding a little hurt that Hermione seemed to not have trusted her to settle Rose again. “You know where the room is.”

Before Ron could say anything, Hermione disappeared up the stairs. 

It took Ron a moment to realise everyone was watching him. “Er,” he said, looking around, “it’s our first week, and it’s all a bit new. I’ll go and see if she’s okay.”

“Don’t be too concerned, Ron,” Molly said gently, resting a hand on his arm as he passed her. “It’ll get easier as she grows.”

“Thanks,” Ron said. “It’s our first time with a lot of people. It’s a lot. For Rosie and…” He gestured in the direction Hermione had gone.

“Of course,” Molly said kindly.

“I’ll be back in a moment.” Ron walked up the stairs slowly, trying to keep himself calm. He knew Hermione had been nervous about bringing Rose over to the Burrow, but he’d thought he’d managed to talk her around. It was something that Rose was going to have to get used to — and something Hermione would have to get used to. The Weasleys — as busy and as chaotic as they could be — were his family, and therefore Rose’s family. 

But, he realised, as he reached the first landing where his mother kept a room set up for all the young children to sleep in, he could also understand her nerves. He had to admit that coming over here was a lot at the best of times — more so now that he’d been living away from the Burrow for seven years. He loved his family, but it was huge now and a lot for a little baby (and her parents) to handle. Plus, the traumatic birth probably made Hermione a little more protective than she would have been otherwise. 

He pushed open the door slowly, poking his head in. Hermione was bent over the old cot he had once slept in, stroking Rose’s cheek.

“You okay?” he asked softly.

Hermione turned briefly before returning her focus back to Rose, whose eyes were fluttering.

“I hope they don’t think I’m that person,” she said.

“What person?” Ron asked. 

“The one who freaks out every time someone else holds their baby. The one who doesn’t trust anyone else with their child.”

Ron entered the room fully and closed the door behind him. “I think they think you’re just a new mum who is still trying to figure everything out. They’re not judging. Not at all.”

Rose’s eyes closed completely. Hermione left her hand to rest on the baby's belly for a few moments longer and then slowly backed away, turning to Ron.

“I never thought I’d be like this.” It sounded like a confession to Ron, though he didn’t know what for.

“Be like what?” Ron asked.

“Fussing over her, worrying about her… just wanting to be with her all the time. I thought that I’d be different. Better.”

Ron took her hand, pulling her towards him. “What’s better than loving your daughter?” He almost laughed at the insinuation. “Hermione, where’s this coming from? Are you okay?”

For a moment, she didn’t answer. She looked at something over his shoulder, and he realised she was trying to find the right words. It was unusual for Hermione to not know what to say. 

“Hermione?”

“I didn’t realise it would feel like this,” she eventually said. “That I’d love her so much. That she’d mean absolutely everything to me, and that I’d be so… overwhelmed by it all.”

“She’s six days old, Hermione. Not even a week. And you spent two of those days in hospital because of what we can only describe as a very traumatic birth. In my eyes, you’re the strongest person I’ve ever known, and you’re handling it way better than I could. You’re the best mum our Rosie could ask for.”

Hermione laughed through the tears that had formed in her eyes. “Rosie? Is that what you’re calling her?”

Ron shrugged. “I thought it was cute.” He gathered her against him. 

“Of all the books I read, none of them prepared me for just how exhausted I’d feel or just how much I'd want to protect her from everything.”

“Like loving grandmothers and big bully cousins?” Ron teased. 

“I know.” Hermione sighed. “I suppose… it’s just going to take some getting used to, to… let others help.”

“It’s always been a problem of yours. You know that. You like to do things yourself. It’s why you’re so good at what you do. But… when it comes to raising our Rosie, well, we don’t have to do it on our own. She’s lucky. She’s going to grow up surrounded by people who love and adore her. But at the same time, we’ve got this. You’re allowed to feel protective of her, you’re allowed to love her like you do. There’s nothing wrong with that. She’s tiny. She needs us.”

Hermione nodded and pulled away from him. She took his hand and pulled him towards the door. “I just never expected to feel this way. It’s a new feeling for me. It’s strange.”

“I get that.” Ron began to close the door gently behind him but was stopped by Hermione a moment later. She opened it again and quietly cast the sound charm so they’d know when she was awake.

“It even makes me nervous having her so far away,” she said, this time smiling. 

“I reckon it’ll get easier.” They started descending the stairs. “I mean, look at Victoire and Dominique, and even little Molly to an extent. They run around wildly and Bill and Fleur seem happy to let them run free. Bill said something about burning off energy. She’s just so tiny now, and so little, that we want to do everything we can to keep her safe.”

They reached the bottom of the stairs, and Hermione turned to him, smiling. “You seem to have it under control.”

Ron shook his head. “I feel the way you do,” he assured her. “I hate hearing her cry; I just want to do everything in my power to keep her safe. But I suppose I’ve just embraced my feelings for her a little quicker than you have. I love her so much and it’s how I wanted to feel when I saw her. How I hoped I’d feel. I love being her dad.”

“And I love being her mum. I just want to be the best one I can be for her.”

“And you already are.” Ron kissed her. “You have this under as much control as I do, and you also have me. Don’t put so much pressure on yourself and don’t let those dumb books tell you what to do. Rosie’s the only book we need. She’ll let us know.”

They returned to where everyone else was. 

“Is Rosie going to stick?” Hermione questioned.

“You don’t like it?” Ron asked.

“I… don’t know.”

Ron smiled at her but didn’t respond. 

“Everything okay, dears?” Molly questioned, looking anxious.

“Yep. Sound asleep. Meeting you lot took it out of her, Mum,” Ron said.

“I scared the baby, didn’t I?” Victoire asked. “I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s alright,” Bill assured her. “Babies, when they’re just born, scare easily. When she’s a little older, she’ll probably find you hilarious.”

“As we all do,” George added with a smirk. 

Victoire beamed, then vanished with Dominique trailing closely behind her.

“Stay close!” Fleur called after her children. “Don’t go past ze big tree.”

The only sound was the giggles of the two girls.

“So, anyway,” George said after a moment of silence, “as I was saying, I’m in a bit of a pickle regarding what to do with the shop. I have the money, but not the staff to manage a second one.”

“You’re opening a second shop?” Hermione questioned, sounding mildly impressed. She’d always been somewhat dumbfounded by the success of the joke shop — apparently unable to fathom how so many people could be interested in such useless products. But they weren’t all useless. Especially these days. Most of what George sold were fun, practical things. Ron personally enjoyed the sweets George had created. George said they were an enormous hit. 

George shrugged. “I have the money to purchase premises in Hogsmeade, but when I spoke to Lee and Verity about it — the two employees I trust the most — they both quit on me.”

“What?” Ron said. “But —”

“No hard feelings,” George assured him. “Lee was only ever there temporarily, helping me out while I needed it. He has his own job with the Prophet. The shop was always on the side for him. It was good of him to stick around as long as he did. But he didn’t think he could take on the responsibility of helping me manage two shops.”

“And Verity?” Ron said. “She’s been around since you opened, practically.”

George nodded. This one seemed to bother him more than Lee — his best friend — leaving. “That, I admit, was a bit of a shock. I offered her the management position at the Hogsmeade one when I opened it. It would be hers to run. But she said she’d been doing some thinking and thought she needed a change in her career. She’s with me until the end of February. I can assure you that no other job with her qualifications would pay as well, but…” He shrugged. “What can I do?”

“I’m sure you’ll sort it out, George,” Molly said. “You’ve gotten this far. I’m sure it’s not the first challenge you’ve faced in running it.” Then she exited toward the kitchen. 

“Hire more staff,” Ron said simply.

“I’m not worried about the Diagon Alley one,” George said. “It’s whether I should go through with opening Hogsmeade when I don’t have someone experienced enough, or someone I trust enough, to make sure it runs smoothly. I was really banking on Verity.”

“You don’t have anyone else who could do it?” Hermione asked.

George shook his head. “I have two others who work for me and they’re both nineteen, fresh out of Hogwarts and one isn’t really that bright. Good worker, but…”

“You’ll work it out,” Ron said confidently. “Mum’s right. You always do. But I’d probably suggest holding off on the second shop for a while. Don’t rush into anything…”

“And risk losing the premises.” George sighed. “Anyway, enough of my worries. Nothing for you two to worry about. Not now that you’re parents and navigating that. I’ll think of something. I’m still sort of hoping that Verity will have a change of heart and stay on.”

Ron thought that was unlikely, and he suspected George did too, but neither of them said anything. 

A moment later, Molly called them all for lunch. 

“It just keeps getting bigger and bigger,” she said brightly in reference to the table they all crammed around. “Soon, we’ll need to expand the kitchen to fit you all in.”

“Not everyone’s here today, Mum,” Ron said with a smirk. “We fit just fine.”

“But you won’t on the rare occasion everyone shows. And it’s a thought, don’t you think, Arthur? We can make the kitchen itself bigger, expand the table, and have everyone in here comfortably.”

“Of course, dear,” Arthur answered with a smile. “Will give me something to do when I retire. Which… I plan on doing in six months' time. I’ll be ending my time at the Ministry in June.”

“Really?” Bill said. “You kept that quiet.”

Arthur grinned. “Well, we had far more important things to discuss, like our beautiful new granddaughter, that it never came up. But yes, I look forward to living the rest of my days out as Granddad Weasley and not having to go to London five days a week.”

Everyone threw a million questions at Arthur after that, asking what he planned to do with all the free time he’d find himself with. George even teased him about working at the shop, but Arthur said that might be a little too loud for him to stomach in his old age. 

Ron couldn’t help but think of his own return to the Ministry in three weeks. He had four weeks off work to spend with Rose, but after that, he’d be forced to leave her every day. He thought about asking for more time, but before Rose’s birth, they’d been very busy with the Black Robes issue. They still weren’t far into solving that despite their best efforts. 

They’d just finished eating when a piercing cry filled the kitchen, frightening James, who burst into tears.

Hermione made to stand up, but Ron put his hand on her arm, pulling her back to her seat. “I’ll get her,” he said. “Remember, we’ve got this.”

Hermione nodded and smiled, relaxing back into her chair. 

Ron made a note to be as quick as possible. He took the stairs two at a time and opened the door slowly, smiling.

“Hey, Rosie,” he said. “You didn’t sleep for long.” He approached the cot and picked his daughter up, bringing her close to his chest. “Too much excitement, huh?”

She settled against him, which meant she wasn’t hungry. Usually, if she was hungry, she’d cry no matter how close he held her. 

“Come on, let’s go and see everyone again.” He carried her back downstairs, this time navigating the stairs carefully. When he came back into the kitchen, he could tell that Hermione was using all of her strength to not go for Rose. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him; he knew that. It was just in her nature to want to be in control — the reason why she made such a great Head of an office. 

As he returned to his chair, still holding Rose close to him, Hermione said, “Is she hungry?”

“Nope,” Ron said. “She’s good. Aren’t you, Rosie?” He turned Rose around so that she could see everyone else. He didn’t actually know how much she really could see, but he’d noticed she was quite observant in her short, little life. She liked watching people.

Rose’s eyes went wide as her world was suddenly filled with colour and people and things that were new to her. Everyone was staring back at her, though her understanding of social queues probably didn’t register this. They might have been big blurs of colour for all she knew. 

After a moment of silence where everyone was watching Rose, Molly said, “She’s just such a sweetheart.”

Ron looked at Hermione, who smiled. Rose’s hands flapped in what could only be excitement. 

“See,” he said to Hermione. “She’s okay. We’ve got this.”

Hermione nodded. “I know,” she whispered. And he saw her relax ‌to the point that she might actually enjoy this visit after all. 

[whenihaveyouromione]

When I Have You - Chapter 92

Read on Fanfiction.net or ao3.

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Chapter 92

The house never looked cleaner. Even when they used magic to do the job, Ron had never been more attentive to every speck of dust that existed than he had been that morning. He’d run his wand over the place three times and then used the Muggle duster just to be extra sure. The place practically sparkled. 

In the two days Hermione had spent in the hospital recovering from Rose’s super quick birth, Ron had spent his evenings going over books in preparation for them both coming home. Rose’s bedroom was ready, the house was free of dust that could get into her little nose, and he’d changed the sheets and washed everything so it was comfortable for Hermione. He'd also made sure to scrub the place where the birth occurred again to spare Hermione the memories. 

While she insisted she was okay, Ron knew she was still exhausted — especially because Rose apparently didn’t like to sleep at night. 

Not on the second night anyway. 

When Ron had turned up at the hospital that morning after finishing up his cleaning, he’d found Hermione fast asleep in bed, to which she claimed it was the first time she’d actually managed to sleep since three in the morning.

“I should have stayed,” was all Ron had said, immediately regretting leaving once again and giving into her insistence that he go home. He could have helped. 

But Hermione had merely smiled and said, “It’s too late now.” She had been keen to leave, having her bags packed and out of bed fifteen minutes later. 

Once Hermione was ready, Ron lifted Rose from her bed, cradling his daughter close to his chest. She was thriving, eating well and doing everything a two-day-old baby was expected to do. He’d spent yesterday learning how to change nappies, which Hermione forbade him from using magic for. The baby had slept well (except ‌at night, it seemed) and her eyes were blue and bright and curious. 

She was going to be as clever as Hermione, he decided. 

“Ready?” he asked Hermione. 

Hermione nodded. “More than ready. I can’t wait to sleep in my own bed again. Hospital beds really aren’t that comfortable.”

“Agreed. Can’t say I’ve enjoyed my few times lying in one.”

Despite her insistence that she was well, Ron couldn’t help but note Hermione walked slowly towards the lifts. He didn’t mind, because she had just had a baby, and anyway, it gave him more time with Rose. Holding her, he decided, was his new favourite thing. She fit so perfectly into his arms and he simply didn’t want to let her go. He’d spent months waiting for her and now that she was finally here, he wasn’t letting his daughter out of his sight. 

It never occurred to Ron that using the Floo would be unsettling for a baby who was only two days old. But he and Hermione learnt the hard way that maybe they should have taken things a little slower when she coughed, spluttered and then screamed her little lungs out due to the shock of it. 

Hermione all but snatched Rose from his arms, comforting and apologising and rocking her back and forth, trying to soothe her. Ron took out his wand and removed the ash from her skin, feeling immensely guilty. 

“Well, that’s a great start to our lives as parents,” Ron said, stowing his wand back in his pocket. “We take her home and the first thing we do is frighten her and she cries.”

“Everything is so new to her,” Hermione said. “It’s all going to scare her.”

Ron watched as Hermione settled Rose, love washing over him. She was already so good at it and it filled him with so much joy. With Hermione around, they were going to be just fine. After a few moments, Rose settled. Hermione smiled at him. Ron smiled back.

“I added a few little touches to her room. Do you want to see?”

“Maybe in a little if that’s alright? I’m not sure I feel up to walking up the stairs just yet.”

“Of course.” Ron guided her to the sofa instead and helped her sit down. Rose wriggled. “Is there anything you need?” he then asked.

Hermione shook her head. “Maybe just bring her bed down here? That way, we can put her down and she can sleep.”

Ron nodded and went upstairs to get the bassinet that was set up in their bedroom. He pulled it back into the living room and set it in the corner, then sat next to Hermione on the sofa. Over her little fright with the Floo Network, Rose had fallen back asleep. 

“She’s pretty good,” he couldn’t help but comment. “I mean, she settles easily.”

“Yeah, during the day.” Hermione smiled. “How are you going to handle your first night with her? Being woken up multiple times? Having to get out of bed…”

“I’ll be alright,” Ron said. 

Hermione scoffed. “Sometimes it takes me five goes to wake you in the morning.”

“Yeah, but she’s cute enough to get me up, I think.” Ron ran his hand over Rose’s head. “I can’t wait for all the days to come with her. I just… love her so much already.”

“Me too,” Hermione said quietly. 

Ron watched her, searching for any sign of distress or memory that might be stirring in her, but Hermione simply watched Rose fondly, her eyes filled with adoration. 

A knock at the door caused them both to jump. Hermione frowned, looking at Ron questioningly.

Ron grimaced. “I think that’s your parents,” he told her.

“What?” Hermione cried. “They’re here?”

“Yeah.” Ron stood up. “It’s harder for them to get here to see us, and now it will be harder for us to see them with a baby. So I thought they should at least have the chance to meet her before she’s introduced to the abundance of Weasleys who’ll terrify her. Won’t that be fun, having all those cousins to grow up with and torture her?”

Hermione smiled. “They’re here?”

“Yeah, but not to stay,” Ron assured her. “They’re not stupid. They don’t want to interfere, they just want to… meet her. That’s all.” Hermione didn’t seem as excited as he thought she might be. “You want me to send them away? They have a hotel for a few nights… they won’t mind.” I don’t think.

“No,” Hermione said. “I just didn’t know. It’s all been a bit of a whirlwind…”

“Which is why I thought your parents being here is better than my family barging their way in and Mum offering unsolicited advice…”

“Maybe you should let them in?” Hermione suggested.

“Yes, right…” As he hurried to the entrance, Ron couldn’t help but wonder if he’d overstepped. He’d thought she’d appreciate family being around her, but her reaction hadn’t been what he’d anticipated.

He flung open the front door. “Hi!” he said, a little too quickly. 

Jane and Robert looked at Ron, alarmed. “Everything okay?” Jane questioned.

“Yes,” Ron said, stepping aside to let them enter. “It’s fine. Crazy, as we’ve just got her home, but everything’s okay. You know I could have brought you here via the Floo. You didn’t have to drive.”

“Oh, no.” Robert laughed, but it wasn’t a cheerful laugh. “It might be quicker, but having everything on the ground is much more enjoyable.”

“Besides,” Jane added, “we’d like to spend a few days here.” She paused, her brows furrowing. “If that’s okay, of course. We certainly aren’t going to intrude on your lives as new parents. But we’re here if you need us.”

Ron beamed, a deep affection for his in-laws flowing through him at that moment. “Want to see her?”

“Of course we do,” Jane said. “We haven’t even seen a photo yet.”

“Yeah, well… I can’t work a Muggle camera too well,” Ron confessed. He indicated the hall down to the living room. 

Although they tried to hide it, Ron sensed their excitement as he followed Hermione’s parents back to where she and Rose were still on the sofa. 

Both Jane and Robert stopped at the entrance, their eyes falling on the small bundle that was their granddaughter. Hermione looked up, giving her parents a tired smile. 

“Hi,” was all she said, but it was enough for Jane and Robert to continue into the room and sit on either side of her. 

“How are you?” Jane asked. “Ron has filled us in on all that happened… it’s been a stressful few days not being able to see you…”

Hermione nodded. “I’m fine. She was just… in a hurry to get here after staying in for three days too long.” She laid Rose along her lap, her bright blue eyes alert and taking in her new surroundings. Ron came to stand nearby, but didn’t interfere. As much as he wanted nothing more than to spend every moment with his daughter, he would have a million more chances to hold her than either of Hermione’s parents would. 

No one spoke for a while, all watching Rose as she darted her eyes backwards and forwards. Ron doubted she actually noticed anyone, but her gaze seemed to linger on Hermione just that little bit longer. 

“Well, she certainly looks like you, Ron,” Robert said. “She’s got your hair at least.”

Ron smiled, but didn’t speak. 

“My dad had red hair, so I suppose it runs on both sides of the family,” Robert continued. 

“Oh, Hermione,” Jane sighed, “she’s so, so beautiful.”

“Do you want to hold her?” Hermione asked.

Jane didn’t need to be asked again. She reached out her arms and Hermione passed Rose over to her grandmother. 

“So, how’s everything going?” Robert asked.

“Well, she’s spent most of her life in the hospital so far,” Hermione said. “Tonight will be the big test. First night in her own bed… in her house…”

Robert’s eyes flicked to the bassinet by the wall. “Is this where you’re planning on keeping her every night?”

“No,” Hermione said, smiling. “She’ll be upstairs with us in our room for the first few months, at least.”

“And then we’ll hopefully convince her to move into her own room,” Ron added. “Though, I’ve heard that can be difficult with some. Dominique is still refusing to go to her own room, and it’s been four years.”

“Which one is Dominique?” Robert questioned. “You have a fair few nieces and nephews. I’ve lost track.”

“My brother Bill, his youngest daughter.”

“Bill’s the oldest, right?”

“Yeah.”

Robert grinned. “You’ll need to map it out for me one day, Ron. Where does Rose fit into it?”

“Eh, somewhere in the middle, I’d imagine. Eventually,” Ron said. “But for the moment, the youngest and the one who’ll get all the attention.” He smiled at the thought, suddenly excited to introduce his daughter to his family. 

“Would be nice to grow up in a large family‌,” Jane said. 

“Chaotic,” Ron replied. “Crazy.”

“Oh, you love it,” Hermione said. “You know you do. And Rose will, too. She’ll have so many cousins to grow up around. So many friends before she even starts school. It’ll be so good for her.”

And so many to compete with, Ron thought, but he didn’t voice that opinion. That had been  something he’d learnt to deal with himself and he hoped Rose wouldn’t feel the same pressure as he had growing up. He wanted only the best for his daughter in all aspects of her life.  

It was something he really liked about Hermione’s family. Everything was always so calm when they were here. He imagined growing up in that household never really felt like a competition.

Hermione’s parents took turns holding Rose. They both seemed completely besotted by her, Jane cooing and Robert doing his best to not show just how pleased he was to have a granddaughter. Ron brought in some snacks and drinks for everyone, and it was one o’clock when they finally decided to head to their hotel. 

“You have our mobile number,” Jane said, giving Hermione a hug. “Just call if you want us over tomorrow, but otherwise we will give the two of you some time with your beautiful daughter.” 

“Thank you,” Hermione said.

“Yeah, if you need to catch up on sleep, give us a call. Will be more than happy to take her for a walk.”

“We’ll be sure to ask,” Hermione said, though, by the sound of her tone, Ron didn’t think that would be the case. He couldn’t blame her. They just needed some time alone to spend with little Rose. 

Hermione showed her parents to the door, Ron trailing slightly behind carrying Rose. When they were gone, she turned back to him, giving him a tired smile. 

“Why don’t you get some rest?” he suggested, looking at the dark circles under her eyes. 

“Oh…” Hermione looked down at Rose, who’d fallen asleep. “I’m not sure…”

“We’ve got this,” Ron assured her. “You did it all the last two nights. Get some rest. We’ll be fine.”

“What if she gets hungry —”

“Then I’ll come and get you.” Ron stepped forward to kiss his wife’s forehead. “What good am I going to be as her dad if you won’t let me share the job?”

He half expected her to argue again, but exhaustion seemed to take over at that moment, and she nodded. “I won’t be too long. Maybe an hour —”

“Take as long as you need. We’ll be fine.”

Taking one last look at them, Hermione made her way slowly up the stairs, turning to look back only twice before disappearing. Ron waited at the bottom until he heard the bedroom door close and then looked down at his daughter.

“Well, Rosie,” he said, “it’s you and me for a bit now. What do you want to do?”

The only response he got was Rose turning her head slightly. 

…

When Hermione came back down, an hour and a half later, Ron had Rose lying on a blanket in the living room. Her eyes sometimes glanced at the rattle he held in front of her, but mostly they darted around the room.

She’d only cried once in the whole time Hermione had been gone, and he’d managed to settle her all on his own, which he felt proud about. 

“Hey,” he said, “you look better.”

“I feel better.” Hermione sat on the sofa. “But I heard her cry…”

“Yeah, just a little. She’s alright, though hungry now, I think. Was just about to come and get you.”

“What are you doing?” Hermione asked.

Ron smiled. “Just playing. She likes this one Harry and Ginny got her.” He picked up a bright orange rattle with the Chudley Cannons emblem on it.

“Does she like it, or is that the only one you’ve shown her?” Hermione asked, smiling.

“She’ll be a Cannon,” Ron said. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Upon hearing Hermione’s laugh, Rose’s face screwed up, and within moments, her cry filled the room. Her head turned towards Hermione, who got off the sofa to pick her up. 

When Rose was settled again, eating, Hermione said, “So you had fun with her?”

“Yes,” Ron said. “She’s perfect. I loved every moment of it.”

That was the absolute truth. The first time he’d been completely alone with his daughter, he’d been worried sick about Hermione. But today, he’d really started to get to know her. She was only a few days old, but every moment with her had taught him something new. He had taken nothing but pleasure in just watching her and falling more and more in love with every passing second. 

He knew now, more than he ever had before, that this really was what he wanted. The feeling was better than he had ever imagined. Rose was better than any daughter he’d concocted in his head. She was everything and more, and he’d do absolutely anything in the world for her.

“I’m glad,” Hermione replied. “You’ve really gotten to know her over two days.”

Ron frowned, unable to determine the nature of Hermione’s comment. Outwardly, it sounded like she was pleased, but the knowledge of how she had spent the first few hours after Rose’s birth hung over him. Part of him even felt guilty for having those extra few hours. But… Hermione had had the nights. 

“I don’t mean that in a bad way, Ron,” Hermione said gently, as if reading his thoughts. “It’s beautiful. You seem to have bonded with her already.”

Ron shrugged, finally dragging himself from the floor and to his feet. “I dunno. There’s still a lot to learn about her. She’s only a few days old." He looked at them, snuggled on the sofa. "It’s getting close to dinner time. Do you want me to get something? Cook something?”

“I’ll do whatever you want,” Hermione said. “I’m not up for decision-making about food right now.”

Ron laughed. She was usually one to be incredibly picky about the food, planning what they’d eat a week in advance. No doubt after a few weeks and they got into their routine with Rose, it would go back to that. But currently, Hermione was relaxed — and probably very, very tired. 

“Alright, I’ll go and get something in a bit. It’s been a busy few days.” He studied Hermione for a moment.

“What?” Hermione asked.

“What do you mean, what?”

“You’re looking at me funny.”

“I’m just grateful,” Ron said. “Happy. I’m happy we have Rose, but I’m mostly happy that we have Rose together. I like being her dad. I just feel happy.”

Hermione smiled. “Me too. I’m happy we have her.”

It made the wait for her feel so worth it. It was so long ago now when he’d first expressed his desire to have a baby to Hermione behind the Burrow, and she’d promised they could talk about it in a year. Then a year came, and she had agreed, and then everything that had happened between then and finding out they were having Rose. It had hurt then — it still did — but not as much now. Because if none of that had happened, then they wouldn’t have Rose.

Ron sunk back into the sofa, smiling. “I love you,” he said. “I love both of you so, so much.”

Hermione returned his smile. “We love you, too,” she whispered. “Thanks for all you’ve done these past few days. We wouldn’t be here without you.”

That wasn’t entirely true, but Ron accepted the compliment. Hermione had done a far lot more than he had in the past nine months, but she wouldn’t accept this as an argument. 

After a moment of silence, Ron felt Hermione’s head lean against his shoulder. This was the first time the three of them had truly been together without Healers or family around. 

Their first family moment. And Ron couldn’t wait for many more.

[whenihaveyouromione]

When I Have You - Chapter 91

Read on Fanfiction.net or ao3.

---

Chapter 91

They’d dimmed the lights in the hospital room, which surrounded Hermione in an orange glow. In the two hours since she’d been taken here, she’d not stirred once. When the Healer had left and Ginny had helped Ron dress the baby, he’d Floo’d straight to the hospital to inquire about the wellbeing of his wife.

Her admittance into St Mungo’s had been a bit of a whirlwind, which left the administration scrambling to find any evidence of her actually being there. It didn’t help that his daughter had not enjoyed her first Floo experience and had screamed the whole time they’d been searching for Hermione’s documentation. 

Completely inexperienced with a child he couldn’t just hand back when they became distressed, Ron endured the crying until Harry came to meet them.

His eyes flickered from Ron, to Ginny and to the baby, then back again.

Leaving the desk, Ron approached his friend and asked, “Where is she?”

Harry had shaken his head, looking apologetic. “I’ve no idea. I’ve not seen anyone, let alone Hermione. I have no idea where she is or what’s happening.”

This almost tipped Ron over the edge. His heart still recovering from what had happened less than half an hour ago, he once again passed his daughter into the arms of his sister and demanded the wizard find out where Hermione was this very instance.

After some more scrambling, the wizard was able to inform Ron that Hermione had been put into a room on the second floor, the floor for Magical Bugs. 

Harry, Ron and Ginny all hurried there, only to go through the process all over again with locating Hermione’s room. 

Finally, they were able to speak to the Healer who’d taken her in, and Ron left Harry and Ginny as he was led down a silent corridor, his baby back in his arms, now settled.

There was nothing seriously wrong with Hermione, the Healer had explained as they walked. She’d experienced a small bleed, but that had been easily fixed with a common spell before she lost too much blood. They had given her a blood-replenishing potion, but what had kept her unconscious until now was the shock her body had endured from such a quick and intense birth. 

The Healer was confident she would wake up in a few hours, then opened the door to the room. She’d then said something about admitting the baby into the hospital so she could be with Hermione for a few nights and left.

Ron hadn’t left the chair by her bed since, two hours later, and only then did the day's events sink in. 

A bed appeared in the room that Ron assumed was for the baby, so he’d laid her down and watched as she drifted off to sleep. He wasn’t entirely sure how babies this young functioned right after entering the world, but he was surprised that she’d given no sign of being hungry yet. It was a good thing, he supposed, but he didn’t know if it was normal.

She seemed content, though, so he’d just sat and let it all wash over him. The room’s silence settled him, leaving his mind blank, and he realised how very tired he felt. It had all happened in a way that neither of them had even once anticipated, but the end goal had resulted in the same — they had their baby, and she was the most perfect thing he’d ever laid eyes on.

He had plenty of nieces and a nephew, but it was different when he knew it was his own child. She was part of him — she wouldn’t exist if it wasn’t for him. She was his daughter. He was her dad and despite the horrible fear he’d felt in the moments before she’d practically fallen into his arms, he was proud of himself for remaining calm throughout it all. He’d had to; he’d had no choice, but he was still pleased with his ability to not run away from something so terrifying. 

He reached forward and picked up Hermione’s hand, which was warm and soft. He wanted her to wake soon so that she could see their daughter. It didn’t seem fair that she’d spent nine months alone with her, only to miss out on the first two hours of her life. 

“She’s perfect,” he whispered to her. “We’ll love her so much. She’s so beautiful.”

From the small bed, the baby stirred. Her eyes sprung open, and a moment later, deafening screams filled the once-silent room. 

Ron released Hermione’s hand and jumped to his feet. He picked his daughter up, knowing this time for certain that she’d woken because she was hungry. He wasn’t really sure what to do other than rock her. Did the hospital have anything to give her while Hermione was still unconscious? They were far from well equipped to house a baby, which was something that had never bothered him until now. Hermione couldn’t have been the first person in history to require hospitalisation after giving birth, so why was there no ward for cases such as hers? She’d been thrown into a place where they had a bed, surrounded by people who were infectious with Merlin only knew what. 

It didn’t seem right to him. 

The baby continued to cry, and Ron did his best to settle her, though to no avail. She wanted her mum, and that was something he had no control over.

“It’s alright,” he tried to soothe. “It’s alright…” He returned to the chair with the baby squirming in his arms. He rocked her gently, but she just continued to cry. “I’m sorry,” he said, feeling helpless. He was failing already; his daughter was hungry and he had no means of nourishing her. 

He was very close to searching for a Healer to see if they had a suggestion, when movement from Hermione caught his attention. She was stirring, waking, trying to take in her surroundings. 

She blinked rapidly for a few moments before she managed to turn her head, her eyes falling on Ron, confusion etched on her face.

“Ron?”

“Hey,” Ron said, smiling at her. “Hey.”

She blinked again, her eyes falling to the screaming baby. For a long while, she didn’t say anything, perhaps too disorientated to speak. She watched as Ron rocked their daughter until she eventually quieted. Then she looked back at him. 

“What happened?” Her voice rasped, and she cleared her throat, repeating the question. 

“It was pretty intense,” Ron said. “She came incredibly quickly. You passed out — they say from the shock of it all. And blood… there was a lot of blood.”

Hermione’s mouth opened, but no words came out. She returned to staring at the baby.

“Can you sit up?” Ron asked. “Then you can finally meet her for real.”

Hermione nodded, and with some help from Ron, she was sitting with her back against the bed, two pillows supporting her. 

“She’s quite perfect,” Ron told her, unable to contain a smile. “We’ve gotten to know each other quite well in the two and a bit hours you’ve been here.” He passed his daughter into Hermione’s arms, the baby suddenly seeming content to be held by her mother.

“Two hours?” Hermione asked quietly.

“Yeah,” Ron said. “But you’re okay. Just a shock to your body, they say.”

“I can’t believe… I missed it.”

“Do you remember much?” Ron asked, returning to the chair and happy to allow Hermione to have the much deserved time with their daughter. 

“No,” Hermione said. “It’s all a blur at the moment. I remember… vaguely… seeing her, but then… nothing… oh, Ron, look at her.” And for the first time, a smile appeared.

“She still needs a name,” Ron said.

This seemed like too much brain power for Hermione to contemplate at this point in time, so he was about to drop the subject when she asked, “You’ve spent some time with her. Is there anything that stands out? Does she feel like anything in particular?”

“Kind of,” Ron said, though he wasn’t sure if he should say it. In a way, he’d privately been almost calling the baby by that name — instinctively, almost. But he also knew that he shouldn’t have been, because it was as much Hermione’s decision as it was his — if not more considering what she’d been through to give him a daughter.

“Tell me,” Hermione said, unable to take her eyes from the baby. 

“Well…” Ron began, “a bit after she was born, when the Healer had cleaned her all up and everything, I was holding her and she was sleeping, and the thing that stood out to me the most was the fact that she had really red cheeks. They were like a rose colour, and after that, I couldn’t help but think that would be the perfect name for her — Rose.”

Hermione didn’t speak. She just continued to stare at the baby. Then, “Rose suits her, I think. She looks like a Rose.”

“Really?” Ron said, surprised considering they’d spent months disagreeing on every name they could think of.

Hermione nodded. “It’s perfect for her. Our Rose. I love it.”

Ron smiled. “Me too.” And now he really could think of her as Rose. 

“We can think of a middle name later,” Hermione said. “I’m… too tired.”

For some time, nothing else needed to be said between them. Ron sat in the chair, Hermione in the bed with Rose in her arms. No one disturbed them; no one came to see if they were okay. Ron didn’t even know if Harry and Ginny were still in the hospital somewhere or if they’d gone home. He suspected the latter, picking up James to get him in bed at a decent hour.

He glanced at his watch. It was six in the evening. He stifled a yawn. 

“You should go home,” Hermione said.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Ron said. “I’m staying right here with you, and I’m not leaving your side until I know you’re okay.”

Hermione smiled. “I’m fine. Really. I could probably go home —”

“No, you’re staying here,” Ron insisted. “We all are.”

“Where will you sleep?” Hermione questioned. 

“Here.” Ron touched the chair he was sitting in. 

“Ron…”

“I’m not leaving.” If he went home, he knew he wouldn’t get any sleep. He’d just be worrying the whole night whether or not Hermione and Rose were okay. Were Healers coming in every few hours to see them? What if something happened with Rose when he was away? They weren’t exactly equipped at the hospital to care for a baby. Not in this ward, anyway. Now he understood why Hermione had wished to have the baby in a Muggle hospital — it was the standard for Muggles to have a place for newborn babies and their mothers, meaning she’d be looked after better. 

“Honestly, Ron, we’ll be fine here. You’re exhausted. You’ve been amazing today —” she reached out a hand and covered his, “— you deserve a break. Please, Ron…”

Ron hesitated. His eyes drifted to the bed where Rose had been sleeping for the past twenty minutes after being fed. After spending so long with her, it felt near impossible to leave his newborn daughter. He’d waited so long to meet her, and now that she was here, he had so much love and adoration for her, he wanted to be with her at all times. It was his job to keep her safe, and he was up for the challenge — every day for the rest of his life. 

Hermione was still smiling at him, but her eyes were pleading. She wanted him to go — at least for a few hours. “What if she cries?”

“I can get up,” Hermione said. “I’m feeling better. I’ll be able to get to her — don’t worry.”

Ron didn’t believe her. He had no doubt that she thought she could do it, but what would happen if she tried and couldn’t and there was no one around to help? Would Rose just lay there crying with no one tending to her, because he was certain the Healers had already forgotten about them?

He was once again about to protest when the door opened, and the Healer that had taken Hermione from their house entered. She smiled at them.

“How is everything?” she asked kindly.

Ron opened his mouth to make a comment about it being the first time someone had come to see them, but Hermione seemed to sense his frustration and spoke over him. 

“We are good. Feeling a little tired, but I was just about to send my husband home for the night.”

The Healer, who Ron remembered had introduced herself as Healer Farsley, nodded. “A good idea. I have three more hours before I finish, and then I’ll fill in the next person to do frequent checks overnight. A good night’s sleep will be good for you.”

“Can’t I sleep here?” Ron asked. “Can’t you manage a bed in here? There’s room.”

Farsley shook her head. “Your own bed will be much more comfortable. Don’t worry, we will take great care of them, and you can come back first thing tomorrow.”

Scowling, Ron looked back at Hermione, who nodded her encouragement. “We’ll be fine,” she promised him. 

Realising he had no choice, Ron sighed — loudly, so they knew he wasn’t happy about this decision — and then went to where Rose slept soundly in her bed. She was wrapped snugly in a blanket, and he once again admired just how perfect she was. He couldn’t quite believe she was his daughter. 

He ran the back of his finger down her perfect face, causing her to turn towards it. Smiling despite himself, he backed away and kissed Hermione lightly on the lips. 

“I’ll see you in a few hours,” he said. 

He left the room, regretting the decision immediately. He wasn’t supposed to spend the first night of his daughter’s life on his own. But then again, nothing about this had gone to plan, so he supposed where he slept was included. 

He just hoped Hermione would be okay. 

He walked briskly to the Floos so he didn’t change his mind, and Floo’d home to the quiet of his house. In the hurry of getting to the hospital, the lights had been left on and the towels and everything were still lying where they’d been dropped on the floor. 

It seemed like such a long time ago now, when in reality, it had been mere hours. Just seeing it all there made him feel ill. Things could have just as easily gone very wrong today.

He took out his wand and cleaned the towels with a Scourgify, and then flicked it again to fold them up. He left them on the sofa, prepared to return them upstairs in the morning, and dragged his feet upstairs to the bed. 

It had been years since he’d not had Hermione sleeping beside him in his own bed. They’d spent almost every night of their relationship together since she finished her final year at Hogwarts — some Auror expeditions being the rare exceptions. 

It felt strange knowing that she wasn’t going to join him, but he was so tired that his eyes involuntarily closed the moment he laid his head on the pillow. He’d been adamant that he wouldn’t be able to sleep knowing that she was in hospital with very little support, but the day’s events caught up to him, and before he knew it, the sun was peeking through the bedroom window and his watch was telling him it was seven-thirty. 

His stomach growled. Now that he thought about it, he probably hadn’t eaten in almost twenty-four hours. It hadn’t even occurred to him to do so, so worried as he was about Hermione and Rose. 

Scrambling out of bed, he headed to the kitchen and made some toast and a very strong coffee.

He ate quickly, eager to get back to the hospital. No one had come to find him in the middle of the night, or sent him an urgent message, so he assumed all was okay. Then again, he was certain he wouldn’t have heard the house exploding, he’d slept so soundly. 

It was the fastest he’d ever gotten ready, showering, dressing and reaching the fireplace in the space of fifteen minutes. He didn’t even bother to check in at reception, instead hurrying straight to the second floor and Hermione’s room.

He found her up, walking around slowly with Rose in her arms. 

“What are you doing out of bed?” he demanded. “You should be resting.”

“I’m fine,” Hermione said, and to her credit, her voice sounded stronger and more like herself than it had yesterday. “I needed to walk around. Lying in bed was...  exhausting.”

Ron came to stand beside her, peering down at Rose, who was awake, but content. “How was she?”

Hermione nodded. “Good. Woke a few times, but once visiting time ended, the Healers were able to tend to us a lot more. I had someone check in every hour or so. She was good, though.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” Now that he’d slept decently, it gave Ron space to look at his daughter with clearer eyes. Yesterday had been overwhelming, but today… today, he could really soak in the fact that she was here. 

The little girl they’d waited for, for so long, was finally here. He was a dad and all the things he’d hoped to feel for her were so strong in him already that he knew it was going to be okay. Those fears he’d had a few months back didn’t seem to matter at all. It didn’t matter how bad he was at dressing her, or holding her, because he now knew how determined he was to change. If he didn’t know how to do something, then Rose was more than worth the effort it would take to learn. He wanted to be the best he could be for her.

“She’s just so perfect,” he said, running a hand over the back of her head, feeling the tiny, thin strands of red tickle his fingers.

“I know.” Hermione’s expression showed what Ron felt — complete and utter love for their baby.

“And how are you?” Ron said, moving to the chair he’d spent most of yesterday sitting in. He was desperate to hold Rose again, but Hermione seemed unintentionally unwilling to let her go, so he was content for the moment to let them be.

“I’m honestly really good,” Hermione answered. “I still feel tired, but my body… it feels okay. Whatever spells and potions they gave me have really done their job.” She paused for a moment, shifting Rose in her arms slightly.

“What?” Ron asked. Something at the back of his mind was telling him it wasn’t going to be good news, but like yesterday, he pushed down his fear and steadied himself. 

Hermione shook her head. “It’s nothing, really. It’s just that the Healers say that due to the traumatic birth, I could experience complications down the line. Months, maybe even years.”

Ron frowned. “Complications?”

“I think they were trying to say post-traumatic stress disorder.”

“Post-what?”

“Think about how triggering mentions of the war are for you. You hear something, see something, and it sets something off in you. It’s that.”

“That’s going to happen again?” Ron questioned, not liking that thought at all. Mentions of the war weren’t horrible for him, but he didn’t like talking about it either. It wasn’t a nice feeling when his mind flooded with memories of those times.

Hermione shook her head. “I feel okay now, mentally. It was hard in the moment, but… it all worked out in the end. I suppose we’ll see as the months progress. I’m not going to worry about something that may or may not happen… do you want to hold her, Ron?”

Ron stared at his wife, taking in her words. The Healers thought that she might suffer down the line? No, he didn’t want that. He couldn’t bear her to suffer even more than she already had. 

“Ron? Do you want to hold her?”

Ron blinked. “Of course I do,” he said after a moment, and he stood and took Rose from her. 

She was so light, so fragile, and her deep blue eyes stared up at him as if he was some strange being she was trying to work out. 

And to her, Ron supposed, he was. The whole world was strange to her, and she was going to need time to adjust to it. She was doing well for being less than a day old.

“We need to pick a middle name for her,” Hermione said. 

“Do we?” Ron asked.

That gave Hermione pause. “Well —”

“We’re just going to call her Rose,” Ron continued. “So why can’t she just be… Rose? Or… Rosie as a nickname?”

“I… I suppose,” Hermione said. “I just assumed…”

Ron nodded. “Until now, I thought so, too, but we had so much trouble choosing just one name for her. A second seems a bit much. She can just be Rose Granger-Weasley. I like that. Or… Rose Weasley-Granger? Or… whatever you want, I guess. Just Granger if you want it to be. Or… just Weasley.”

Hermione smiled. “Granger and Weasley is perfect. She’s part you and part me, so it fits her.”

“I’m glad we can finally agree.”

In his arms, Rose squirmed, coughed, and then her little eyes closed and she was sleeping peacefully again. 

He brought her closer to his chest, feeling her warmth. 

Rose. His beautiful little Rose. He couldn’t quite believe how lucky he was to have her as his daughter.

[whenihaveyouromione]

Please update please please please please...

I have just moved 16000kms to a new home and have been busy getting into a routine. Life is starting to get back to normal so hopefully I'll be able to update soon!

[whenihaveyouromione]

When I Have You - Chapter 90

Read on Fanfiction.net or ao3 if you'd prefer.

---

Chapter 90

Ron lowered his wand, watching as the last blanket folded itself neatly into the drawer. The drawer closed with a gentle click, and for a moment, they stood in silence. 

The room was ready. They had spent the good part of the last week working on it, and it was now done. It wasn’t just a pile of bags and boxes; it was a room suitable for a baby. A cot against the wall in one corner, a change table in the other. There was a set of drawers beside the table, filled with blankets, bath towels, wash cloths and all the clothes a little baby could ever wish for. 

There were also some toys such as rattles, blocks, teething toys — things that might be useful as their daughter grew. In the centre was an orange rug with moving Snitches and the Chudley Cannons symbol floating around it. 

“She’ll love it,” Hermione said softly, her eyes glistening with a few tears as she took in their hard work. 

“She will.” Ron hugged her from the side, squeezing her shoulder. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Hermione’s voice was quiet, filled with emotion. Ron didn’t know if it was due to exhaustion or anticipation or a bit of both. Probably a bit of both.

He kissed her temple and then dropped his arm, stowing his wand back into his pocket. “Do you reckon she’ll come tomorrow like she’s supposed to?”

Hermione shook her head. “I don’t know. She’s not really giving me any signs that she is, but it’s hard to say.” She placed her hand over her stomach, rubbing it along her very large bump.

Tomorrow was Christmas Eve and any other year, Ron would have been excitedly thinking about the day after and their plans for his favourite holiday. But he’d scarcely thought of Christmas this year, only the birth of his daughter. He wanted to meet her so desperately that he no longer cared that her birthday would be so close to Christmas. Even if it was on Christmas, he didn’t care. He just wanted her here.

He was more than ready to give her every bit of love that he had.

“I think she will,” Ron said confidently. “She’ll be like you — always on time.” “I like to be early, thank you,” Hermione replied with a smirk.

“Well, there’s still some time left today.” Ron turned and slowly closed the door to the room, giving himself another moment to take it in. Soon — very soon — his daughter would be in there. She’d be sleeping in the cot, lying on the rug on the floor with her toys… excited was an understatement. 

They walked to their own bedroom, Hermione unable to go long distances quickly. Apart from working on the baby’s room, she’d spent a lot of her time in bed, just unable to walk up and down the stairs at will. 

Ron had brought her food and water and spent all of his free time with her, keeping her company. Not that she seemed to need it. She seemed happy with her books and herself.

Hermione awkwardly sat on the bed, sighing as she did so. “It won’t be a bad thing if this baby decides to come tonight. I want to be able to sit down like a normal person again.”

Ron smiled. “Have you given any more thought to a name?” 

It was a topic that Ron kept bringing up every few days. He would have brought it up every day if he didn’t think it would annoy Hermione. She didn’t seem concerned that they were a day away from the due date and they still hadn’t agreed on what to call their daughter. They weren’t even close to agreeing on one. Their tastes just seemed to be too different for them to find any common ground. All the ones Ron suggested, Hermione thought wouldn’t blend well in Muggle society. All the ones Hermione liked, Ron couldn’t imagine himself calling any child of his by those names. At times, he did consider just giving in to her and agreeing that Elizabeth was what they’d call her, but he could never bring himself to do it. He just knew it wasn’t the right one for their baby. But… nothing was the right one, and that was the problem. 

Hermione shook her head. 

Ron suppressed the urge to sigh. “What if we can’t find one? What if she comes tonight and she doesn’t have a name?”

“It’s okay for her to not have a name for a day or so,” Hermione assured him. “Until we find the right one. Which we will.”

“What about Alesa?” Ron said. He’d seen it in a book.

Hermione said nothing.

“Orlice?”

Again, nothing.

“Adonnica?”

“We’ll find one we both like, Ron,” Hermione said quietly. “I know we will. When we see her, we’ll just know. I promise.”

“I just wish we had one now.” Ron sunk onto the bed, resting his head against the headboard and sighing. “I don’t like the idea of her being born and being nameless. Even if it’s just for a little while.”

Hermione reached her hand out and rested it on Ron’s thigh. She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t need to. She was grateful for his presence — as much as he was for hers. 

For a while they lied on the bed. Ron was reluctant to leave her just in case she needed him, but eventually — as the sun disappeared behind the neighbours’ houses across the street — he peeled himself away from the bed and sat up.

Hermione made to get up, too, but Ron shook his head. “I’m not really in the mood for cooking tonight,” he confessed. “But I’ll go and get us something. You’ll be alright here for a while?”

Hermione smiled and nodded. “Of course.”

Ron forced himself to stand. “I won’t be long.” 

Hermione nodded, and Ron made his way slowly down the stairs. He thought he heard the whoosh of a Summoning spell being used and he smiled. Reading was just about the only thing she could do these days, and she’d probably sped through about six books in the last two weeks. 

He Apparated to the only Apparition point in Nottingham city and made the short walk to one of their favourite places to get food. It was a pizza place and the only one Ron felt comfortable going to on his own. He knew the menu, he knew how much it cost (and therefore how much money to hand over) and found it easy. 

By the time he returned, carrying a large cardboard box, Hermione would have probably read about one hundred pages of her book. 

He carried up a plate with a few slices of pizza on it, and she put down her book at his appearance.

“Everything all right?” he asked, handing her the plate.

“Yes,” she said. “Perfectly.”

Ron sat on the bed again, eating his own pizza. After finishing one slice, he said, “Should I give you your Christmas present now? You know, just in case we can’t celebrate properly on the day?”

“I think we should just wait and see what happens,” Hermione replied. “For all we know, she’ll be incredibly late and we’ll reach New Year’s and she’ll still not be here.”

“Merlin, I hope not,” Ron said. “But okay. I’ll wait a few more days. You’ll like what I got you this year.”

Buying for Hermione had become increasingly more difficult with each celebration. Whether that be birthday, Christmas or an anniversary. He felt as if she had everything she needed or wanted and unless he bought her more books, or a new ink pot for work, she didn’t want or need anything else. 

But he’d finally found something that he thought she’d like. He had happened upon it by accident, seeing an advertisement in his daily scanning of the Daily Prophet. 

It was a magical planner, and even Ron, who was not one to ever use something like that, had considered buying one for himself. It shouted out reminders, it did automatic scheduling of appointments and so much more that he thought it would be something Hermione would be grateful for when she returned to work after having the baby.

He hoped, at least. 

“I always like what you get,” Hermione said, which was a blatant lie. Ron knew he didn’t always manage something she appreciated, but she had the decency to never say anything. 

“You’ll really like this,” Ron emphasised. “It’s not even fun; it’s just practical.”

“Then I’m sure I will.”

The rest of their evening went as it had done for the past few weeks. After dinner, Ron would do a quick tidy of the kitchen, wash the dishes, and then return upstairs to either find Hermione once again nose-deep in a book or more commonly, asleep from the exhaustion of just being pregnant.

On the eve of Christmas Eve, it was the latter. 

Ron switched off the light and climbed into bed himself, snuggling against her. He placed his hand on her belly, but the baby was still, probably sleeping, too. Hermione said the baby seemed to sleep overnight and she was rarely woken to her moving around or random feet in ribs. 

“Come soon,” he said softly, drawing Hermione even tighter. 

…

Christmas Eve came and went, as did Christmas, and so did Boxing Day. Ron couldn’t even enjoy his favourite holiday because he was watching Hermione closely for any sign that the baby might be on its way.

But there was nothing. The only time he thought there might have been something had been Christmas Day, in the evening. They’d decided to have Christmas at their own place again, seeing that travel even by the Knight Bus was too difficult for Hermione. Jane and Robert had made the two and a half hour drive up to Nottingham to spend it with them, opting to stay the night. They had taken themselves off to bed, sleeping in the study where Ron had squeezed in a mattress beside the desk and all the junk they seemingly kept in there.

Ron had just been about to go to bed himself when Hermione frowned, her hand on her stomach, giving Ron pause.

“What?” he’d asked, his heart suddenly hammering in his chest. “Is it —”

“I don’t know,” Hermione said. “Honestly, I think it was just a long day for everyone. Just a twinge for the moment.”

“That could be the start,” Ron replied eagerly. 

“Maybe.”

But it hadn’t been. Though, the ‘twinges’ had become more frequent through Boxing Day, but still nothing that brought Hermione any major discomfort or alarm. 

Ron, though, was adamant that it was the start and he was growing impatient. The baby was now three days overdue and it wasn’t something he’d anticipated. He’d been banking on Christmas Eve and in his mind, his daughter should be here by now. 

But she wasn’t.

“If you’re feeling something, then it probably is the start,” Ginny said, putting a wriggling James on the floor so the seven month old could crawl around and get into everything Ron and Hermione had not yet baby-proofed. 

Ginny, Harry and James had come over on the twenty-seventh, just to check-in with how things were going. Ginny said she guessed Hermione was becoming frustrated with being now three days past her due date, which had been a correct assessment.

While she kept assuring Ron everything was okay, Ron sensed her growing annoyance at the fact that the baby still hadn’t come and she was still uncomfortable. 

“I thought it would have progressed by now,” Hermione said, sighing. She was sitting on the main sofa in the living room, almost lounging against it. “I’ve been having small contractions for days but it hasn’t been anything more than a twinge.”

“I felt twinges with James for a few weeks before.”

“Don’t say that,” Hermione almost cried. “Weeks?”

“A week, maybe?” Ginny amended. She looked at Hermione sympathetically. “She’ll be here within the week. I would put money on it.”

Ron was starting to suspect that it would never happen. They’d waited for her for so long, and she still wasn’t here. Why was their baby waiting so long to meet them? 

Hermione settled back into the sofa, her expression showing that she wasn’t at all impressed by Ginny’s response. Perhaps she wanted to hear days, or hours. Not weeks. 

Ginny looked at Ron, amusement on her face. 

“You only look like that because you’re not the one pregnant,” he snapped at her. “And James came early, so you had less time to suffer.”

That seemed to amuse Ginny even more, but she had the decency not to say anything. Her eyes flicked to where James had found a stack of old books they’d been meaning to dispose of for months and hadn’t. He’d pulled them all out of the pile and was rubbing his grubby hands over the pages, giggling to himself.

Harry entered the living room, carrying a tray of teacups and a steaming pot of tea at its centre. 

He set them down on the coffee table where he and Ron began handing them out. 

It was good seeing them so close to Christmas, Ron thought as they sipped their tea and made idle conversation. As their lives progressed, the older they got, there were times where they didn’t see each other outside of work for weeks. Especially now that children were involved in the equation, Harry and Ginny found their weekends were busy with trying to find things to do to keep James entertained. They’d taken him to the zoo, playgrounds and other things Ron and Hermione had been invited to.

They’d gone along at first, but the closer it got to the birth of their own child, the more challenging it was to go places. 

Ron had probably last seen his sister three weeks ago when she’d dropped by to check on Hermione. 

It was nearing three o’clock in the afternoon by this time, when Hermione suddenly sat up.

All heads turned to her, and she looked at Ron, eyes wide. “I almost forgot!” she exclaimed.

“Forgot what?” Ron questioned. 

“We got James a Christmas present, remember? It’s over by the… tree…” Getting the words out seemed to be a struggle for her, and Ron jumped to his feet to grab the present still wrapped up under the tree.

He turned back to give it to James, who now had his hands in the soil of a potted plant, but what James was doing quickly left his mind when he caught sight of Hermione. Something had suddenly changed in her expression. Ginny and Harry seemed to have noticed it, too. 

Ginny, who was closest to her in that moment, said, “Hermione? Are you okay?”

Ron put down the present and came over to her. “Is it the baby?” he asked — a phrase he’d asked a million times over the past few days. But this time he knew it was different. He could tell.

“I don’t know,” Hermione said, her breath heavy.

“Another twinge?” Ron asked. 

She shook her head. “No, it feels different this time.” She ran her hand over her belly, frowning. “Stronger. Like maybe it was a real contraction.”

Ron sat beside her, arm around her shoulders. “You think this is the real thing?” he asked, his heart beginning to beat rapidly against his chest. 

Hermione shook her head, not speaking. 

“How do you feel, Hermione?” Ginny asked, setting her cup of tea on the coffee table. 

“I don’t know,” Hermione answered. “It’s hard to explain, but it’s just different.” She frowned again, her hand staying on her tummy. “I do think that was a real contraction, though.”

Ron squeezed her shoulder. 

“What’s your plan?” Ginny continued. “I mean… if it is the real thing, what’s your next step?”

“To go to the hospital,” Ron said. “The Muggle one. We need to call a taxi. They’ll take us to the hospital. But not yet.” He looked down at Hermione, whose eyes had almost glazed over in the sudden change of events. She appeared to be in great discomfort. 

“Not yet?” Harry questioned.

“Well, if we go to the hospital too soon, they’ll send us home.” That was what Hermione had told him, what she’d learnt. You weren’t supposed to go to the hospital until a few hours before, unless something was wrong. 

“Is there anything we can do in the meantime?” Ginny asked, her voice calm. She’d been through this herself; she probably knew there was no point in panicking over it. Even if she’d not expected this when she’d stepped out of the Floo three hours ago. 

Without answering, Hermione pressed her weight against Ron. It took him a moment to realise she was trying to stand up. He helped her, gripping her arm tightly and dragging her from the sofa. 

She lasted three seconds on her feet before she gave an agonised cry and collapsed back onto the sofa. 

“What happened?” Ron asked, concerned now. 

But Hermione was unable to answer him. She gasped, clutching her stomach. Ginny shifted closer, also looking concerned. 

“What’s going on?” Ron questioned and he heard the panic in his voice. He’d read the books — at least parts of it — especially around labour and delivery. Everything he’d read told him that things were going to progress slow and steady, that things would build up gradually. Contractions could be hours apart early on. But the way Hermione was gasping, as if out of breath, didn’t seem to be gradual.  

“I think I’ll drop James at the Burrow and go and get someone.” Harry got to his feet. “I’ll get a Healer. They’ll be able to get here quicker than an ambulance.”

“No,” Hermione said weakly. “No, we decided on a Muggle hospital.”

“Do you want me to call an ambulance?” Ron asked, squeezing her shoulders. 

Hermione shook her head, another sharp gasp escaping her. “No. I want… I want you here. Harry… can.”

Ron looked to Harry, who nodded and changed direction to the hall, where their phone was. He’d made it to the living room exit when Hermione gasped again, doubling over. 

Harry stopped, staring at Hermione hunched over on the sofa. He walked back over, lifting James into his arms. “I’m taking James to the Burrow and getting a Healer,” he said.

Hermione didn’t argue this time, apparently concentrating on breathing through the pain. Ron gave Harry a short nod.

When Harry was gone, Ron knelt in front of Hermione, worried about this sudden turn of events. He was pleased, of course, that she finally seemed to be in labour, but he thought was meant to be a little more comfortable than what she was. 

“Can I get you anything?” he asked gently, rubbing his hand up and down her thighs in what he hoped was comforting. 

Hermione could only shake her head, sucking in a deep breath as she was once again hit with another contraction. She clutched at her stomach, rocking forward. 

“Just breathe, Hermione,” Ron encouraged, doing everything he could to keep himself calm. He hated seeing her in pain — he’d always known this would be the hardest part for him. He’d schooled himself in the past month, tried to tell himself he had to be calm for her. And he was managing it… for now. 

He turned to his sister, pleading. “What should we do? We planned for the hospital, but… what do we do in the meantime?”

“Make her comfortable,” Ginny said. “When I was like this, I just wanted to be comfortable.” She hesitated.

“What?” Ron asked, returning to his stroking of Hermione, who seemed incapacitated and unable to speak.

“Well, I was in labour for a good ten hours before they got this close together.”

“What do you mean?” Ron felt Hermione reach for his hands and squeeze them. He let her. “It’s alright,” he tried to soothe, doing his best to ignore his pumping heart and fear that was creeping up on him. He knew enough to know that Hermione wasn’t supposed to be in this much pain — not when it had only been five minutes since she’d experienced the first contraction. 

“I have counted four in about five minutes,” Hermione said quietly. “It’s almost constant.”

“What does that mean?” Ron asked. 

“When it was constant, James was born not long after.”

Ron turned back to Hermione who wasn’t even paying attention to them, so distracted by the unending agony she was in.

Get her up to bed,” Ginny added. “It’s the best place if… if she doesn’t make it to the hospital.”

Ron was starting to think that that might be inevitable. He nodded, tightening his hold on Hermione’s hands. “Can you stand up?” he asked softly.

She nodded, her face red as sweat dripped down her forehead. She did her best to assist Ron in getting to her feet, Ginny also helping, but she only managed to get halfway up before she let out a cry of complete agony and collapsed back once more.

“I can’t,” she gasped. “I… oh, god.” She cried again, startling even Ginny.

“Harry better get here soon,” she said. 

“It’s alright. It’s alright.” Ron returned to kneeling in front of Hermione. “Harry’s gone to get a Healer. They’ll be here soon.”

Tears streamed down Hermione’s face and she choked out one sentence. “I think the baby’s coming now.”

“What?” Ron said, his heart starting to race again. “Just hang in there, Hermione. Harry will be back any moment with a Healer. You’re okay. It’s okay.” 

Panic reared up in him, but he had to keep it contained. For Hermione’s sake. The baby couldn’t come now. It wasn’t supposed to happen so quickly. It hadn’t even been ten minutes, unless he’d lost complete track of time. Harry wasn’t back yet...

Hermione let out another cry and she lurched forward, falling onto her hands and knees on the floor. “The baby’s coming,” she sobbed. 

Ron rubbed her back, glancing over his shoulder for Harry, but it was just the three of them. “Just hang in there, Hermione,” he soothed, but he heard his voice catch on her name. “Just hang in there.”

From his peripheral vision, he saw Ginny take out her wand. He had no idea what she was doing, but a moment later, a stack of towels landed in her lap. 

“Take these,” she said, shoving two into his hands.

Ron obliged, choosing not to question her. 

Hermione sucked in a breath, rocking backwards and forwards. “She’s coming, Ron. I can feel her. I don’t think I can wait any longer.” She was terrified, Ron could tell. This was not at all how they’d planned this moment. 

“Hermione —”

Hermione groaned in a way Ron had never heard before. Her head was bowed, her eyes closed, and Ron was certain that even under normal circumstances, this wasn’t supposed to happen. Not to Hermione, who had endured torture before. 

Kneeling beside Hermione on the floor, Ginny gripped Hermione’s shoulders. “Harry will be back any moment with a Healer,” she soothed. “Any moment, I promise.”

Hermione groaned again, which changed to a sob. “I can feel… oh god, I can feel her. Ron, please help.” She was breathless, panting and rocking on her hands and knees.

“Help?” Ron questioned weakly. “What do you want me to do?”

“Get her out!” Hermione cried. 

“What?” Ron glanced at Ginny, who could only shake her head in bewilderment. 

“Get her out!” Hermione cried again. “Quickly!”

His heart had never beat so fast, thumping in his chest as if it were ready to jump out. Without much other thought, he and Ginny helped her over so her back was resting against the sofa. She immediately drew her knees up and Ron was horrified to see an awful amount of blood staining her pants. 

Where are you, Harry? he screamed in his head. 

He removed her shoes quickly, then slid off her pants, discarding them behind him. 

“Ron,” Ginny hissed. She had her arm around Hermione, using her other to brush the hair away from her face. “What are you doing? You’re not really going to —”

“She said the baby’s coming,” Ron replied. He turned to his sister, searching for something in her eyes as to what else he could do. But Ginny looked as lost as he felt, both of them unsure on what else to do.

This wasn’t right, Ron knew that. He had prepared enough for this moment to know that Hermione shouldn’t be in this much pain. It had gone from zero to one hundred real quick, and now his wife was on the floor, incapacitated and in more pain than he’d ever seen her. 

Another cry from Hermione brought their eyes back to her. She threw herself forward again, and instinct seemed to draw her back onto her hands and knees. It was comforting to see she at least had the strength for that. “Ron!” she cried. 

“Hermione,” Ginny said, though her voice wasn’t as calm as it had been. She came to Hermione’s front, holding her head close to her shoulder. “It’s alright. Ron, what do we do?”

But Ron was too busy staring as another pool of blood came from Hermione and… and the baby’s head. 

He swore as Hermione moaned, her eyes closing and she buried her head against Ginny’s shoulder.

“What is it?” Ginny asked. 

“I can see the baby,” he breathed, partly awestruck, partly stunned. In the space of ten minutes, Ron had gone from thinking his child would never get here to seeing the head of his daughter and no Healer or doctor in sight.

His heart left him in that moment, but he couldn’t panic. He wanted to run away, hide in a corner and hope for a Healer to arrive, but the love he had for Hermione and his child kept him where he was. 

He pushed the towels out of the way, knowing they were useless now. 

Ginny was doing her best to keep Hermione calm, soothing her and whispering words Ron couldn’t hear. 

“I feel sick,” Hermione moaned, her head still against Ginny’s shoulder.  

Ron also felt sick. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t. But who else was going to? Harry hadn’t come back with a Healer and the baby wasn’t going to wait any longer. 

“Ron?” Ginny breathed. “What —”

“Just help her,” Ron said, looking across his wife’s rocking body. Hermione seemed barely aware of herself, she was hurting so much. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t how a normal birth was supposed to go. She wasn’t supposed to be hurting this much. “I need to… I need to get the baby out.”

Ginny nodded and pressed her mouth to Hermione’s ear. “You have to push, Hermione.”

Hermione shook her head. “My body’s… doing that for me.”

“Hermione, you have to,” Ron pleaded, his voice catching. “You have to do it for our daughter. Please do it for her.” 

“I… can’t,” she gasped.

“Yes you can,” Ginny said. “I know it hurts. I know. But, you have to, Hermione. It’ll stop soon, I promise. You just have to push.”

Something in Ginny’s words must have gotten through, because Hermione cried out in absolute agony, pressing herself completely into Ginny, and Ron saw the face of his daughter appear. The baby’s shoulders came next, and Hermione cried out again and there was nothing else to it. The baby fell into Ron’s waiting hands. 

For a moment, the only sound that could be heard was Hermione’s panting. Then it was filled with the piercing screams of his daughter as her lungs took in their first gulps of air. 

His heart lurched, feeling every emotion that existed from relief to shock to numbness. He just stared down at the bloody, messy form in his arms, unable to move.

“She’s here,” Ginny said with a smile. “She’s here, safe and sound. Hermione, you did it. Your little girl is here.”

His sister’s voice snapped Ron back. Hermione’s whole body was shaking from exhaustion. “Help her back so she can see,” he instructed Ginny.

Awkwardly, Ginny maneuvered Hermione so her back was against the sofa once more. 

With a smile, Ron wrapped the baby in one of the discarded towels as best he could and held her up for Hermione to see. “She’s amazing.”

The smile that filled Hermione’s face was enough to tell him that she agreed. She looked so tired, but still found the energy to smile at their daughter. Despite the baby still being attached by the cord, he held her close to Hermione and was about to pass her over when the fireplace lit up with green flames and Harry emerged, followed immediately by a Healer. 

The Healer wasted no time in tending to the baby. He took her out of Ron’s arms, pulling out his wand. Ron sat back and watched, not at all phased by the blood that covered his hands or the floor, or even his clothes. All that mattered was the fact that, by some miracle, his daughter had made it into the world safely. It may have been crazy and unexpected, but she was here and she was perfect. Even covered in whatever the hell it was she was covered in, she was perfect. 

He glanced up at Harry, who wore a bewildered expression. He had probably expected to come back to find Hermione still in labour, not her lying against Ginny and the baby screaming her little lungs out. 

The Healer passed the baby back to Ron, the cord now severed. Ron felt the weight settle in his arms, the tiny form fitting perfectly. He had dreamed of this moment for so long — the moment he’d finally get to hold the child he’d wanted for so long. In a million fantasies, this had not been one of them, but the feeling was still the same. 

He stared at her for a long moment, taking in every part of her face. Her nose, her ears, her tiny little mouth. His eyes then trailed to all ten fingers and all ten toes. 

Perfect.

Smiling, he looked back up at Hermione, ready to finally pass their incredible creation to her. But Hermione’s eyes closed just as he looked up, rolling into the back of her head. 

“Hermione.” He all but threw the baby into Ginny’s arms as he shuffled towards his wife, shaking her shoulders. “Hermione.” But she didn’t respond. 

The Healer was on his feet. “She needs to get to the hospital,” he said. “She’s lost a lot of blood. I’ll arrange immediate transport.” He took out what appeared to be a plain notebook and tapped it with his wand. Almost immediately, another Healer appeared in their house. 

Ron had heard of the emergency Healer call that broke all Apparition enchantments and was glad that they had allowed it for their home. 

The second Healer, a young woman, didn’t say a word. She just knelt by Hermione and the two of them disappeared. Ron got to his feet, heading to the fireplace.

“Where are you going?” Harry asked.

“To be with my wife.”

“Ron, your daughter needs you.” Ginny came over to him, gently rocking the crying baby in her arms. “Trust that Hermione’s in good hands.”

Ron opened his mouth to protest, but Harry gripped his shoulder. “I’ll go with her,” he said. “You stay here. Be with your daughter. She can’t be without both her parents.”

Ron wanted to argue again, but seeing the face of his little girl stopped him. His chest swelled with love and he knew that he had to stay here with her. Hermione would never forgive him if he abandoned their child in favour of her. 

He nodded and Ginny passed the baby back. The baby immediately quieted, and big round eyes stared up at him as if she was doing what he had done to her moments ago — taking in his every feature, every part of him.

My baby, he thought. This is my baby. Holding his little girl in his arms briefly settled the raging fear within him. Just seeing her perfect face and all its perfect features brought a calmness to him amongst the chaos that had been her birth. 

Ginny came to stand beside him. “It’s amazing, isn’t it?” she said. “Holding them for the first time? There’s nothing quite like it.”

Ron could only nod, not wanting to take his eyes away from the perfect creation in his arms. If he looked up, if he saw the blood, he’d be reminded of what had happened. He’d be reminded that a Healer had taken his wife away before she’d even had the chance to hold her much wanted baby and he had absolutely no idea whether she was even okay.

Fear boiled inside him again and a tear trickled down his cheek. 

Ginny patted his shoulder. “She’ll be okay,” she soothed. “She’ll be fine. She’s strong.”

Ron sucked in a breath, not wanting to cry in front of his sister or his daughter, but he couldn’t help it. His voice came out cracked and broken. “What… what went wrong?” 

“I don’t know,” Ginny answered softly. 

The remaining Healer heard and approached them. “She has lost a lot of blood. Your wife has most likely suffered from severe blood loss, as well as shock from an intense and fast birth.”

“Will she be okay?” Ron asked; pleaded.

The Healer nodded. “I believe so.” His eyes fell on the baby. "I'll give the baby a full check over now."

Ron hesitated, but after a gentle nudge from Ginny, he once again passed the baby back over.

Ginny knelt on the ground and spread out another of the towels she'd Summoned in what suddenly seemed like hours ago when in reality it had been minutes. The Healer knelt and placed the baby on it.

Ron could only stand back and watch as the Healer ran his wand over the baby, muttering spells and seeing different coloured sparks appear from its end. 

“Did this happen to you?” Ron asked Ginny as they watched on. 

Ginny shook her head. “No. My labour was slow.”

“What about the blood…”

Again, Ginny shook her head. 

“Why do things keep going wrong for us?” Feeling suddenly exhausted, Ron collapsed onto the sofa, and Ginny joined him, a comforting hand on his back. 

“They haven’t gone wrong, Ron,” she said. “They just haven’t gone as you planned. You have your daughter, don’t you?”

“At the expense of my wife,” Ron cried. 

“She will be okay. The Healer said she will be okay. It was just hard for her. Intense. Incredibly intense and fast.”

Ron shook his head, running his hand over his face. “It couldn’t just go normally, could it?”

“It doesn’t matter how it happened,” Ginny said. “The point is that you have your daughter and she is healthy. You’re a father, Ron. Think about that.”

Ron lowered his hands and turned his attention back to the Healer. The child was content, and after he had finished checking her over, he wet a third towel with his wand and tenderly began cleaning the baby up.

As all the blood came away, Ron was able to see his daughter more clearly. Her legs and arms thrashed about uncontrollably, her face screwed up, and she started to cry again. But she was so, so beautiful. 

"She looks like you."

"You think?"

"Well, she has the Weasley at least."

Ginny was right. His daughter had hair like him. Little tufts of red were appearing on her head as the Healer dried her hair.

The Healer finally finished his check and picked her up. He passed her back to Ron, who took her eagerly.

"Considering she went through something very traumatic, she is perfectly healthy,” he said kindly.

"Thank you," Ron replied. His daughter squirmed in his arms before settling.

“You’re a natural,” Ginny said, smiling. “She needs some clothes, though.”

"Upstairs," was all Ron managed to say.

While Ginny went to get clothes and the Healer packed up his things, Ron sat with his daughter. She was everything and more than he'd imagined. Already, every part of him was filled with love for her. He'd never loved someone so much in his life and he’d only known her for a few minutes.

“I can’t quite believe you’re mine,” he said quietly. 

Her eyes fluttered closed and she soon drifted off into a peaceful sleep. He watched her, unable to take his eyes away. From her nose, to her fingers, to her tiny little ears. 

And the rosiest little cheeks he had ever seen.

[whenihaveyouromione]

When I Have You - Chapter 89

Read on Fanfiction.net or ao3 if you'd prefer!

---

Chapter 89

Hermione huffed.

Ron looked up from his scan of the Daily Prophet. He’d skipped straight to the back pages where the Quidditch results for the past week were listed as well as team lists for the next round. Nothing else interested him these days unless he wanted to know about the ‘secrets the Minister doesn’t want you to know’ or some new band that was taking the wizarding world by storm. 

Hermione had one hand on her back and another outstretched as she attempted to pick up the pieces of paper she’d just dropped on the floor. 

A smile crossed Ron’s lip as he watched the struggle. Merlin, she was adorable. 

She huffed again, another attempt to pick it up, but her belly got in the way. Ron was caught up in marvelling at how beautiful she was that it took him a moment to snap himself out of his admiration and say, “Why don’t you use your wand?”

“Oh, why didn’t I think of that, Ron?” Hermione snapped. “I’ve been using magic for how many years now? And yet I forget that I have a wand?” She stood up and glared at him with flushed cheeks and a little bit of sweat running down her face. 

Biting back a laugh, Ron stood up and bent to pick up what she’d dropped. “What is it, anyway?” he wanted to know.

Hermione snatched the bits of paper from his hand before he had the chance to read what was on it, and tucked them under her arm. “If I wanted you to know, I’d tell you, wouldn’t I? And why are you laughing at me?”

“Because I’m going to miss this.” This time, he allowed the laugh to escape him on the last word. 

Hermione’s eyes narrowed. 

“You’re adorable,” Ron pressed. “Never been more beautiful. Don’t get me wrong, I can’t wait for the baby to be born, but… I will miss you —”

“Struggling?” Hermione said. “Waddling around and taking forever to get places? Waking up drenched in sweat in the middle of winter? Having my ribs and all my organs used as play things? No, thank you.”

“A bit over it, huh?” Ron said.

Hermione huffed, slowly making her way back to the breakfast table. Apparently she didn’t think he deserved a dignified answer. 

“It’s only two more weeks,” Ron said. He sat opposite her, shifting the newspaper to the side. 

“And it feels like all the clocks have been slowed,” Hermione complained. “This is awful. Truly awful. I hate it.”

“Don’t tell our daughter that when she asks one day.” Ron smiled, but his joke wasn’t appreciated. Hermione kicked him — hard — under the table. 

“Ouch.”

“You wouldn’t be laughing if this was you,” Hermione said. “I’m carrying around about ten extra pounds at the moment. Or so it feels. Why do you have to be so tall? This baby is huge, and it’s all your fault.”

Ron laughed out loud again, watching her affectionately. “Merlin, I love you,” he said. 

“Stop it,” Hermione said.

“Stop loving you?”

“Stop laughing at me.”

“It’s only because I think you’re adorable.”

“Well… I’m not. I’m big and sweaty and just plain unattractive right now.”

“No, you’re not.”

Hermione looked at him, her glare softening ever so slightly. Then she shook her head. “These last two weeks are going to go so slow. It’s not helping with the fact that I now have nothing to do but worry. I can’t believe Malfoy is in charge of the office. Maia is scared of him, you know? And he knows it, he’ll bully her the whole time I’m away. Maybe I should just drop in on Monday and —”

“Hermione.”

“— make sure all is going smoothly. You know, I really regret hiring him. I should have looked at the bigger picture before looking at the person with the most knowledge. You did try to —”

“Hermione.”

“— warn me. But, no, I had to go and do what I wanted. As usual. Now look at it. I’ve made a mess of —”

“For Merlin’s sake, Hermione, it’ll be fine. It’s not your problem anymore. You’re done for now. You need to relax. It’s not good for the baby. And, if it’s gone to shit when you get back, well, you’ll have an excuse to get rid of Malfoy, won’t you?”

Hermione’s mouth closed tightly, but she no longer looked annoyed. She just sighed, lent back in her chair with her hand resting on her belly and said, “I hope this baby comes early.”

Ron was so excited for the arrival of his daughter that he hoped so, too. He was always on alert for any indication from Hermione that the baby was coming. He watched her intently, studied her every move. Every time she winced, or paused, he’d ask if she was okay. But it was never anything more than some normal and common pain related to pregnancy. He wasn’t even sleeping well at night, on alert to every movement she made.

Now that it was so close, he was as desperate as Hermione was for it to all be over. He was ready to meet his little girl. 

“Why don’t we go for a walk?” Ron suggested.

“Ron, I can barely stand up, I don’t think walking is going to work.”

“It’s supposed to help, though, isn’t it? They say — at least, I read it in one of those books of yours — that long walks are supposed to help bring on labour. So, why don’t we go for a walk? It might help.”

Hermione was looking at him very strangely. 

“You’re surprised I read the books, huh?” Ron said, offering his hand to pull her to her feet. 

“I’m surprised you had the time…”

“Well, I’ll be honest — I only read a little bit of one. It just happened to be that part.”

“Any reason?” Hermione questioned. She was curious, Ron could tell. They walked into the hall toward the front door. There were coats hanging on two hooks on the wall beside it. They both shrugged them on, and Ron opened the door. It wasn’t snowing, but the sky was overcast and the day was extremely cold. 

They headed down their driveway. It was a slow pace, Ron having to make sure he kept his steps small so that Hermione could keep up. She struggled at the best of times, always complaining that he walked fast, but now it was worse. Her back ached, she felt heavy, and her feet became sore after a short while. 

Ron didn’t think he’d like to be pregnant. It didn’t sound fun.

They reached the pavement of their street before Hermione spoke again. “So, why did you read a book?” she asked.

Ron smiled. “To be honest, Hermione, the closer it got, the more I started to panic about having absolutely no idea what you were going to go through when the time came to have the baby. I kind of read it so I knew if I’d play a part or anything. Or maybe just to get a better understanding of it. I don’t want to mess up my first job at being a dad.”

Hermione smiled, already struggling with the walk. “You’re going to be there, right? I mean…” A sliver of panic crossed her features. “I just assumed you would be, but I realise now we’ve never actually spoken about it…”

“Do you want me there?” Ron asked. “Because I’ll be wherever you want me to be.”

“Please, Ron.” Hermione spoke with a hint of desperation. “Please don’t go anywhere.”

“Alright,” Ron replied. “I’ll be with you. The whole time, if you want. The book said my job was to be your support. I can do that. I think, at least. I guess we’ll see on the day. I may completely freak out, just so you know. I know it hurts to have a baby, and I don’t do well with seeing you hurt.”

“I don’t think you will freak out,” Hermione said, and she sounded extremely confident. More confident than Ron felt, himself. Whilst he’d do everything he could to be the best he could whenever the time came, the idea of seeing Hermione in pain absolutely terrified him. It was his greatest fear — as the Boggart all those years ago had shown him. Ever since that time at Malfoy Manor, he couldn’t bear it. 

“We’ll see,” he replied.

“No, Ron, you’re always the voice of reason in those instances. Trust me, you will cope — even if it’s hard, you will.”

Ron felt the need to remind her of a few weeks back when he’d completely panicked in a baby store, but decided not to bring that up. He still felt embarrassed over it, and it brought him a lot of self doubt still — despite Hermione’s assurances. 

They walked slowly down their street, Ron always finding himself unintentionally getting ahead and having to pause to allow his wife to catch up to him. Their street wasn’t all that long, but by the time they reached the end, Hermione was red-faced, a little breathless and falling further and further behind.

He turned to face her, smiling. “Want to head back?” he asked.

“Oh, God, Ron, I don’t know how people do it,” she said by way of answer.

Ron responded with a puzzled look. “Do what?”

“Being pregnant.”

“You’ve done a pretty good job,” Ron said. “Besides, you’re extremely adorable in the way you can’t reach for things, and your mood swings, your snappishness…”

Hermione sighed as Ron turned her around and they began making the short journey back to their house. “I just mean… some people — your sister is a good example — managed to stay so alert, energetic, active until the day she gave birth to James. To be honest, I thought I’d be like that, too, but it’s just… stopped me. I feel so tired, I can’t really think straight most of the time, and I feel so frazzled and all over the place. Apparently being pregnant doesn’t agree with me. I didn’t think I’d ever have to finish up work two weeks ago. I honestly thought I’d go until Christmas.”

“Yeah, well…” Ron shrugged. “What can you do? It is what it is. The most important thing is our baby is safe and well, right? She’s doing all right, and in a few weeks — maybe hopefully a few days — she’ll be here and you’ll have your body back to yourself again.”

“I just never expected it to be so draining. No one ever talks about that side of things. Everyone always talks about all the good things, talks about feeling great, grateful, that stupid ‘pregnancy glow’.”

“The pregnancy what?” Ron questioned, laughing at the word. 

“Glow,” Hermione repeated. “How you’re supposed to look radiant when pregnant. Beautiful…”

“I think you look beautiful,” Ron said. 

“I certainly don’t feel it.”

They’d almost reached their house now and while Ron thought of something to say next, Hermione ploughed on. “I’m excited for her, but I really hate this side of it. It’s… hard.”

Again, Ron said nothing as they walked up their driveway to the front door. He wasn’t sure what he could do or say to alleviate her worries. He’d not really been aware of the fact that she was feeling this way. He knew she wasn’t enjoying the later stages of her pregnancy, but he’d always thought it was normal for people to feel that way. He remembered Ginny making complaints as the weeks dragged on, saying how big she felt, how she couldn’t wait for the baby to be out. 

But for Hermione, it seemed to be more than that. She seemed really down on herself and he wasn’t really sure how to change that.

“Well,” he said as he unlocked the door, “I stand by what I said before. I think you’re beautiful. I always have.”

“Thanks, Ron. That’s… I needed to hear that.”

He set his keys on the table by the door and kissed her forehead. “I’m sorry for laughing at you earlier. If I’d known… I wouldn’t have laughed. I just thought you were irresistibly adorable. And I thought it was strange you didn’t have your wand.”

“I left it upstairs,” Hermione confessed. “I want to be able to do things without it, but I might just have to give in and rely on it for a few more weeks.”

“You are a witch,” Ron reminded her. “Use it as much as you want.”

“I just hoped I wouldn’t have to.” Hermione collapsed onto the sofa in the living room, the short walk having completely drained her of energy. A moment later, she laid down and fell asleep without a word. 

Ron stood watching her. He was going to let her sleep as much as she needed, but he also wanted to do something more for her. Who’s idea was it that men couldn’t take on some of the discomfort? If he could, he’d take it on for her. Wouldn’t it make more sense that they could share the responsibility? After all, the baby was half his. 

He left the living room so Hermione could sleep in peace and immediately set to work on cleaning the house. They’d both been pretty slack with it over the past weeks, too busy working out the finer details of the baby’s impending arrival. While they did some superficial cleaning, it wasn’t at a standard that it had once been. Even with the help of magic, they’d let it slide.

He pulled out the cleaning products in the kitchen, charmed some wipes and sponges to start scrubbing, opened the oven and did the same, and then set to work by manually cleaning out the fridge. 

That last one, he realised, was desperately needed as he began pulling out containers of food that were weeks, maybe months, old. Some things were even unrecognisable as they’d changed colour or smell. 

He grimaced. This one was probably on him. He’d gleefully put last night’s dinner into a container with the full intention of taking it work the next day, but then he’d been in such a hurry to leave that he’d walked out without it. By the time he got home, he’d forgotten all about it ever being there. This had happened more than once.

Once he’d disposed of all the old food, cleaned the shelves and taken out the rubbish, he moved on to the bathrooms. There were two — one upstairs with a shower, bath and toilet, and another downstairs, containing just a toilet. 

He got out some new wipes, brought the cleaning products with him, and once again charmed them to scrub everything thoroughly. By the time they were done, the toilets were sparkling clean and the shower had not a speck of dirt on it.

He smiled, pleased with himself. He couldn’t do much, but he could at least make sure that Hermione could have a shower in a clean bathroom whenever she needed to. 

He went into their bedroom next and pulled off a thick book from the small bookshelf in the corner. Domestic Spells for the House was something he’d not really looked at before. He could Stun someone, bind someone, defend himself, but he didn’t have the first clue in spells that could potentially keep their house clean. Did one even exist? Perhaps not, otherwise wouldn’t Hermione have used it? She did have this thing about doing things ‘the proper way’ at times. Maybe that was one of them. 

He flipped through to the chapter that read Simple Cleaning Spells. There were ones for immediate cleaning such as Scourgify, but after flipping through and reading three pages thoroughly, he realised that not a single spell existed for keeping bathrooms tidy. What was the point? There were spells for instant cleaning. They didn’t exert any energy to use them and took only a few seconds to perform. 

“I’ll have to remember to use these,” he said to himself. He was just returning the book to its place on the shelf when a shadow along the floor alerted him to Hermione’s presence. 

“Are you… cleaning?” she asked.

“Don’t sound surprised. I clean.”

“Yes, but.. Without magic?”

“No,” Ron said. “I used magic. I made the sponges and wipes do the work. But I just discovered a whole lot of spells that can get that done in less than a minute.” He tapped the spine of the book. “Conveniently hid that from me, huh?”

She smiled. 

“Do you feel better?” he asked, coming over to kiss her.

“A little. I think… I think I’ll just feel tired no matter how much sleep I get. All part of it.”

“Have a shower,” Ron said. “No, wait, even better. I’ll run you a bath. You can stay in there as long as you want. In my browsing of that book, I found a spell to maintain the temperature of bath water.”

“That sounds lovely…” Hermione suppressed a yawn, so without further prompting, Ron turned her around and guided her towards the bathroom. There, he set about running a bath, practicing the spell a few times before he was satisfied that he could do it, and then left Hermione to her own devices. 

He went downstairs to start preparing dinner. All he’d done was perform a few spells, walk up and down the stairs a few times, and he felt completely wrecked. He’d not done so much at once in a very long time. It was a different kind of work to his Auror work — even on days he was out on the field. Was this how Hermione felt on a day to day basis? Just walking from one place to another? 

Once again, he was amazed at what the whole process of growing a human involved. And also, again, guilty that he couldn’t do more. 

By the time Hermione came back down from the bath, wrapped in a fluffy dressing gown and her hair wet and combed, Ron had dinner just about ready. Hermione looked a little brighter and went to the cupboard to take out two plates.

“Feeling better?” Ron asked her.

“Yeah… I am. I… fell asleep again in the bath, but it was relaxing. Thank you for suggesting it.”

“It’s the least I can do,” Ron assured her dismissively. “I can do it every day if you’d like. Twice, three times.” He kissed her gently, tucking some of her wet hair behind her ears. “Feel like eating?”

Hermione smiled and nodded, placing her hand over her belly. “If I’m not, then she is. She gets so excited at the smell of food. I swear she can smell it herself.”

Ron touched her tummy as well, feeling the strong kicks of his daughter. She was rolling around, perhaps in anticipation for the food she was going to get soon. “I can relate,” he said. “I love you,” he then added, smiling into Hermione’s eyes. “Both of you, I mean. You make me so happy.”

“I know,” Hermione replied. “You’ve done so much for me — us — over the last weeks. Cooking every night, cleaning the house, getting me things when I ask… I appreciate it.”

Ron shrugged. “Hey, I’m not the one trying to grow a child for the better part of a year. A bit of cooking won’t kill me.” He kissed Hermione again, feeling the baby kick between them. He laughed. “Alright, alright,” he said. “We’ll eat. Put you out of your misery. I hope you like my cooking tonight.”

[whenihaveyouromione]

When I Have You - Chapter 88

Read on Fanfiction.net or ao3 if you'd prefer!

---

A/N: This chapter addresses pregnancy complications/scares in some detail. Please don’t read this chapter if this is at all triggering for you.

Chapter 88

They were fighting. 

Ron had realised that on the Saturday afternoon when they’d returned home from the bus. Not straight away, but after Hermione had ignored him for an hour or two, he realised that she really was upset with him, hence, they were fighting. 

It was an infrequent occurrence these days. Sure, they had the odd dispute, but it was nothing like the constant niggling they’d done as teenagers. They were grown now, more mature, and they had the capacity to resolve any problems in a manner that reflected their age. 

This was the biggest fight they’d had in a long time, and the worst part is, they weren’t actually speaking. 

He wanted to talk to her, to explain what had happened, but she hadn’t given him the chance to. Every time he came near her, she’d walk away without even looking at him. He’d even called her back once, asked her to talk to him, but she’d just said she wasn’t ready and had left the room. 

So he’d waited. He’d waited until Sunday afternoon, hoping that a good day of giving her space would work. It hadn’t, though she did say a few words to him on that day — mostly necessities, like how that phone call that had just come through was the store telling her that the delivery time was now between eleven and three. 

Even at night she left as wide a gap between them in the bed as her pregnant belly would allow. It was difficult these days trying to make room. In an attempt to get her speaking to him — to say anything — he’d joked about needing a bigger bed. 

He should have known that wouldn’t have gone down well. It probably wouldn’t have even if she had been speaking to him. 

Monday was okay, because it was a work day and they didn’t usually see each other anyway. Though she still didn’t speak in the morning, the day itself felt quite normal. But by the evening, after dinner, Ron had had enough. He knew he needed to apologise, to explain to her what had happened. And he now had the words to do it, even if they wouldn’t be as eloquent as what she maybe could have said. But it was enough for her to understand.

He hoped.

He’d spent that evening in the living room alone. The TV ran quietly in the background, but he wasn’t really watching it. Hermione had taken herself to bed earlier than usual, mumbling something about feeling tired. Ron suspected it was her excuse to avoid him, perhaps sensing his desire to speak, but he’d simply nodded and watched her go. 

He did need to speak to her. This couldn’t go on. 

It was less than ten weeks until the baby’s due date. It seemed like a long time, but it really wasn’t. Ten more Saturdays would pass before they might expect their daughter to arrive. Hermione was known to hold grudges, as was Ron, so he had to sort it out now before it got too much. 

A soft light poked out from under the door of their bedroom. Hermione must have been reading beneath her wandlight. She no doubt had another baby book in her lap, ensuring that she was well versed in what might happen at the birth. It hadn’t escaped Ron’s notice that as that date drew nearer, the more tense she seemed to get. He’d wondered on occasion if she was frightened of what was to come. She’d never said anything if she was. 

He pushed the bedroom door open slowly and poked his head in. But she wasn’t reading. There was not a book in sight. And upon seeing him enter the room, she climbed off the bed quickly. 

“Hermione, please —”

“Ron, I think there’s something wrong with the baby.” She spoke breathlessly, panic rising with every word. She came over to him, looking up at him with something bordering terror. 

All the words Ron had been about to say left his mind. “What?” he asked, choking on the word. “What’s wrong? What do you mean?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. The baby… she has been very quiet all day today. Not moving anywhere near as much as she usually would. Dinner time is usually when she is really active, and she wasn’t at all. I’ve barely felt her move much in the last few hours — just the odd one here and there.”

“What does that mean?” Ron asked, fear taking over in the moment. Hermione looked worried, terrified, even, and that scared him. He was an outsider in this pregnancy. He had no idea what was going on, on a day to day basis. It had bothered him often, but he’d accepted it. Now…

Hermione shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said softly. She looked close to tears. “I think… I think we should go to the hospital.”

“Okay,” Ron answered without thinking. "Let's go now. We'll use the Floo." He took her hand and led her from the room. Hermione didn't put up any fight to follow, but she was quiet as they made their way downstairs, Ron still clutching her hand tightly.

Was this why she had been quiet tonight, and not because she was still upset with him? Had she been fretting over this all day, unsure on whether or not something was off and not knowing if she should say anything or act on her concerns? 

Ron had been so lost in his own thoughts to have even noticed that she was troubled. She had mentioned on more than one occasion that the baby was most active around dinner time. Sometimes she'd even complain that the baby would start digging her feet into her ribs just as she would be about to eat, or Hermione would have to pause briefly until the baby readjusted herself. They'd laugh over it sometimes, joke that their daughter was going to be a good eater because she seemed excited about food. 

Now…

They reached the fireplace and Ron wasted no time in grabbing the Floo Powder from the top and igniting the fireplace with green flames. Someone would be stupid to not have St Mungo's linked. Even though neither Ron nor Hermione had required it before, it was always handy to have it there just in case something happened. 

Something like this.

He was scared. Terrified, in fact. He had no idea what was going on or what it meant. He didn't know anything, but that frightened him. What if their baby was dying? What if she was sick? St Mungo's didn't have the capacity to care properly for healthy newborns, so he doubted if something was wrong they could do anything.

He'd read in a Muggle book that Muggles could save small babies — ones that were born early. But… they were going to St Mungo's. 

"You go," he said quietly to Hermione, stepping back so that she could get in. "I'll be right behind you."

Hermione did as he said, nodding. She was pale. He'd not seen her so scared in all the years that he'd known her. It was her he usually turned to for comfort and clarity. If he didn't understand something, she'd usually have an answer. But this time… this time she seemed just as lost as he was. 

Hermione disappeared via the Floo and Ron did as he promised, stepping in less than a moment after she'd gone. It was no longer than any other Floo trip, but it felt like it was. He whipped through other grates in slow motion until he finally felt his feet hit the ground. He stepped out, finding Hermione waiting there for him. She hadn't even bothered to dissolve the ash from her clothes or face.

"Come on," Ron said, taking her hand again. He led her into the waiting area and up to a desk with a young wizard sitting behind it. He had a long scroll of parchment in front of him with at least twenty names there already.

"Please, is there a Healer around?" Ron asked, knowing he sounded desperate. Pleading.

"There's multiple Healers," the wizard said. "There's also twenty-three people waiting."

"This is an emergency," Ron insisted. "A real emergency. It's… it's…" He turned to Hermione, who had not spoken a word since their bedroom. If possible, she'd turned even paler, looked even more worried. "It's our baby," he said softly.

The wizard was very unsympathetic for their plight. He just shook his head. "I'm sorry, but I can't —"

"Ron? Hermione?"

Ron turned at the sound of his name and immediately felt a wave of relief when he saw who it was. He left the wizard at the desk and dragged Hermione with him towards Seamus.

"It's Hermione," Ron said, almost shouted, at his friend. "There's something wrong with the baby. Please…" The last word was strangled, pained. He wasn't even acting, or exaggerating to convince Seamus they needed to be seen before everyone else. It was his fear speaking — more fear than he'd ever felt, including when he was in the baby store on Saturday. 

Seamus looked between them, his eyes lingering on Hermione. "I-I… it's not my speciality," he said. "What's wrong, Hermione?"

"The baby… she's not moving."

This seemed to alarm Seamus. "At all?" 

"No… I mean, yes. I mean, she is, but not much."

Seamus nodded. He glanced at the waiting patients around him. Ron saw someone with a very long nose that was nearly touching the floor and another with tree stumps for legs. 

Seamus then turned back to them and indicated that they follow him. "Just come in here," he said, opening the door to a room with three beds. Only one was occupied. “Wait here. I’ll be with you in just a moment.” He left. 

Hermione sat on one of the unoccupied beds and Ron sat beside her, putting an arm across her shoulders.

“It’ll be alright,” he said, only because it was something to say. “She’ll be okay. We’ve come this far. It’ll be okay.” He squeezed her shoulders and felt Hermione sink against him. He kissed her temple just as Seamus re-entered with some parchment. 

“Lie on the bed, Hermione,” he instructed. 

Ron jumped up so that Hermione had space, taking her hand as comfort. “It’ll be okay,” he said again. 

Hermione laid her head against the pillow and Ron saw a few tears at the corner of her eyes. He gave her hand a squeeze, wishing he could do more.

“How is the baby feeling now?” Seamus asked. 

Hermione shook her head. “Just the same.”

“No worse?”

She shook her head again. 

Seamus nodded. “So, still moving, but just not as much?”

“Yes,” Hermione replied shakily. “I mean… she hasn’t moved since I’ve been here.” The last part of the sentence came out as a sob.

Ron looked at Seamus. “Is there something you can do?” 

Seamus took out his wand. “As I said before, this is not my speciality. I am trained in treating  long-term ailments in our long-term residents’ ward, and like any Healer, treating simple cuts and abrasions, but the other Healers are all occupied. There’s a handful of spells I can do to check everything, and it will tell me all I need to know. Ron, take a seat.” He flicked his wand and brought a chair in the corner over to Ron. 

Ron sat down, still clutching Hermione’s hand. 

The first spell Seamus did was one Ron was all too familiar with — the heartbeat spell. To his utter relief, it sounded just as he’d heard it every other time. Strong, fast and healthy. He squeezed Hermione’s hand. “I like that sound,” he said quietly.

“That’s promising,” Seamus said with a nod. “I’ll now just cast a spell that will track the movements for fifteen minutes. We’ll be able to get a clear indication of what’s happening with that.” He picked up one of the pieces of parchment he’d brought with him and tapped it with his wand. He then performed a spell Ron hadn’t seen before, but whatever it was doing, it was sending information directly onto the parchment. 

Seamus smiled slightly. “The Muggles have something similar, but with machines, not magic. Some Healers here, myself included, we’ve been studying Muggle medicine and adapting it. Muggles actually know a lot about Healing and have a lot of cures for ailments foreign to the wizarding world.” He held up the parchment to show them a bunch of squiggly lines. “These lines, they track what the baby’s doing. Every spike, it means the baby’s moving. It’s heart rate is increasing.” As he spoke, there was another spike on the line. 

“Is that good?” Ron questioned. “I mean —”

“Yes,” Seamus said, “we look for a pattern and so far so good.”

Ron nodded and smiled weakly at Hermione. “Maybe she’s just sleepy today. I know I am.”

Some colour had returned to Hermione’s cheeks. She was staring at the parchment Seamus was holding, relief flooding her eyes. 

“Look, there’s another spike,” Seamus said. “Hermione, is this slow movement usual?” He sounded rather surprised. 

Hermione shook her head. “Ever since you started the spell, it’s like she’s woken up or something.”

Seamus nodded. “There’s speculation that they can sense this spell and it’s slightly uncomfortable for them. Can’t be sure, though, as no one can ask the baby.”

“The baby can… feel it?” Ron asked. 

“It doesn’t hurt them,” Seamus assured him. “Just a different sensation for them. Here’s another one.”

Hermione looked at Ron, a smile on her face now. “She’s moving so much now. All over the place.”

Ron returned her smile. “See? Everything’s going to be okay. She’s fine.”

They waited for the full fifteen minutes, Seamus showing them every time there was a spike in the heart rate or movement from the baby; though, Hermione felt it and told him every time she felt something. 

She looked relieved. Colour had completely returned to her face and she was lying on the bed, relaxed and talking now. 

Ron was also feeling relieved. But it had brought a lot of things into perspective for him. He was worried about being a bad dad, but what if things had gone worse tonight? What if he’d lost the chance to be a dad at all? At least with a baby, he could learn to be better. 

“Hermione, I think everything’s fine,” Seamus said, removing the spell. “This reads perfectly.”

“I feel kind of ridiculous now,” Hermione confessed, sitting up from the bed slowly. “As soon as I got here, as soon as you cast that spell, it was back to normal…”

“It’s better to come and see someone, I think,” Seamus said. “Then not at all. I’ve been pushing for a better maternity facility here, but to no avail. Ridiculous, if you ask me. It’s as if they don’t believe anything can go wrong with magical babies.”

“That,” Ron said, offering a hand to Hermione and pulling her up from the bed, “is a lie.”

“You don’t need to convince me,” Seamus said. “You’re not the first I’ve seen, and you’re not the last.”

“Thanks, mate,” Ron said. “Really appreciate it. You know… seeing us, with all that lot out there waiting.”

Seamus shook his head dismissively. “‘That lot’ out there are products of misfired spells or potions. Nothing that will kill them. I’d rather treat those people with potential life threatening issues than… idiots.”

Ron laughed. 

“Don’t tell anyone I said that,” Seamus added quickly. 

“Thank you, Seamus,” Hermione said. 

Seamus inclined his head in acknowledgement and then used his wand to open the door. 

They were halfway down the corridor when Ron stopped, remembering something Dean had told him a few weeks back. He turned back round. “Our kids will be going to school together, won’t they?”

Seamus smiled and nodded. “You just worked that out?”

Ron grimaced. 

“Oh, when is Lavender due again?” Hermione asked. They’d both known for a while that Seamus and Lavender were expecting a baby.

“March,” Seamus answered brightly. He beamed at them. 

Taking Hermione’s hand, Ron led her down another corridor towards the hospital’s Floos. 

…

When they got home, Hermione sat down on the sofa, looking mentally exhausted from their little night time adventure. She ran her hands over her face and fell back against the seat, sighing. 

“Are you all right?” Ron asked. He stood in front of her, unsure on whether or not to join her. Although the last hour they had been talking, he didn’t know if things were now going to go back to how they’d left it, before their scare. 

Hermione looked up, sighed again, and nodded. She then patted the space next to her. “Sit,” she said.

Ron obeyed, though he was tentative. Was she just after comfort, or was she ready to forgive him? He couldn’t tell — she seemed too tired to be either. 

“You were really great tonight,” she said, smiling at him.

“What?” Ron almost laughed. “Great? I was a mess. Trust me, I was freaking out.”

“You didn’t show it,” Hermione said. “I… I didn’t know what to do or say, but you just went with it. I know… I know you were scared, too.”

“Yeah, terrified,” Ron said. He rubbed her leg and finally chanced returning her smile. “But… it’s all okay now, isn’t it? Just sleepy, wasn’t she?”

Hermione nodded. “Yes… it just really puts things into perspective, I think.”

“What do you mean?” Ron frowned, sliding across the sofa so he could be closer to her. 

Her eyes flicked up and Ron noticed guilt in her expression.

“Hermione?”

“I think I’ll start wrapping up with work a little sooner. You know… a bit before Christmas. Maybe I’m overworking myself a little bit too much.”

Ron snorted and Hermione smiled. 

“You? Never.”

“How do you feel about that?” Hermione questioned.

“I think it’s the smartest idea you’ve ever had, Hermione, and you have had many brilliant ideas.”

Hermione nodded, thoughtful. She was probably planning her last few weeks at work, who she was going to put in charge — unfortunately, it was most likely going to be Malfoy — and then wondering how else she could busy herself once she was supposed to be resting. 

Ron took this as his chance. 

“Hermione?”

She looked back at him, questioning. 

Ron sucked in a breath. “About… about what happened on Saturday. When we were shopping…”

Hermione’s eyes bore into him. She was expectant, waiting for him to continue. 

“I’m sorry.” 

It took Hermione a moment to respond. They had just gone from one topic to another very quickly. Ron wondered if she’d even momentarily forgotten that they’d been fighting after everything else that had happened in between. 

When she spoke, she didn’t sound angry or upset. Just confused. “What happened?”

Ron shook his head, taking her hand. “I dunno. I just started to think about it all. How close it was getting, how real having a baby is… I thought… I thought I was going to make an alright dad. You know, not the best, but I thought it would be okay. I thought I had it under control. But I didn’t even know about a lot of that stuff. I didn’t know a baby needed any of it, so I panicked. Completely lost it. I kept thinking that if I didn’t know our baby needed a… pram… then what else didn’t I know? I was scared. Really scared.”

Again, Hermione said nothing. 

Ron shook his head. “It was stupid,” he said. “I got over it pretty quickly, but you weren’t talking to me so I didn’t know what to do or say. I’m… sorry.”

“Ron… you’re not going to be a bad dad at all,” Hermione said. “Why would you think that?”

Ron shrugged. “I just got caught up in a moment of doubt, is all. I’m sorry. I know I left you to do everything on your own. It’s just a lot to take in. I don’t think it helped that we were in a Muggle setting, either. You know I’m not completely comfortable there yet. Especially in unfamiliar places. Like, I can get pizza from the place down the road, but that…”

For the third time, Hermione didn’t answer straight away. She watched him, her mind working things through her head. Briefly, her free hand moved to her stomach.

“Everything alright?” Ron questioned.

“Yes,” Hermione said quietly. “She’s wriggling around so much now. Making a liar out of me.”

Ron smiled, then said, “I know you’re going to be great at this whole parent thing, Hermione. You’ve got it under control already. I… I just want to be able to do the same. Teach me along the way. Please? I want to be the best dad I can for her. I don’t want to anything wrong.”

“You will,” Hermione said softly, and Ron felt his heart sink. “We’re going to make mistakes, Ron. Both of us. And I certainly don’t have it under control. You saw me not even an hour ago —”

“You were scared.”

“So were you.”

“Maybe more scared than I was in the Muggle baby store,” Ron confessed. 

“Listen, Ron, I thought I’d done something to upset you that day. And I was quite annoyed that you just walked off and left me to finish it off, but I get that you were frightened. I get that it might be overwhelming — terrifying, even. Perhaps I should have prepped you some more, shown you some pictures of everything first.” She smiled. “You’ll be a great dad. Don’t doubt yourself. You handled what happened today amazingly, and I saw how much you cared. About me, about our daughter. That love we have for her already — it’s going to get so much stronger once we finally meet her.

“Besides, you don’t think I’m not having moments of panic over having a baby?”

Ron shook his head. “You seem so relaxed most of the time.”

“Oh, no.” She laughed. “There are many moments throughout every day where I start worrying about things. I’m scared about what will happen at the birth — will I cope? I’m scared about us being alone with her for the very first time, or if something goes wrong. I’m absolutely terrified of having to leave my baby in the care of someone else while we have to work. Even if it is my parents, or your parents, or someone else we trust. But… those are all things that come with parenthood, aren’t they? Worry?”

“I guess,” Ron said slowly. “Have you ever worried about being good at it?”

“All the time,” Hermione answered almost instantly. “There are whole days where I ask myself just what I’ve gotten into.” She squeezed his hand. “But we can handle this. We’ve handled a lot scarier things than a baby before.”

Ron laughed. “I dunno about that, Hermione. Babies are pretty scary. Do you remember Dominique she she was born? When her hands clasped around your hair and it took both Bill and Fleur to get her off?”

“We’ll be the best parents we can be, Ron. It may not be the best, but it’ll be enough. Whenever I worry, I just try to remind myself that I’ll do the best I can do and she will be fine. She will have a house, a place to sleep, food, she’ll be so very loved. That’s all she really needs. The rest… it’s just because we can.”

“I can do the love part,” Ron said. “The rest might take some time.”

“You’ll be the best dad for her,” Hermione assured him, smiling. “Didn’t I tell you once before that it felt so good to be loved by you? I’m sure our daughter will share my sentiments.”

“We still don’t have a name for her yet,” Ron then said. “It’s less than ten weeks now —”

“We’ll think of something,” Hermione replied, and she stood up from the sofa, albeit with a little struggle. “But for now, I need to go to bed. All that stress has exhausted me.”

Ron also stood up, placing a hand on the small of her back. “Is the baby still moving?” he asked, just to make sure. 

“Constantly now,” Hermione said and she smiled. “I probably won’t be able to sleep at this rate.”

“Well, that’s good at least. And, I really am sorry for what I did the other day. It was stupid of me. But…” He paused, remembering for the first time the bodysuit he’d bought without Hermione seeing. He’d snuck it into the bag, put it amongst the hundreds of things they’d bought that day. 

“What?” Hermione said. 

“I have to show you something,” Ron said, and he took her hand and practically dragged her into the hall and up the stairs. He opened the door to the baby’s room, which was currently a mess of boxes and other things. He dug into the bag he’d dumped on Saturday afternoon and pulled out the outfit and held it up. 

“But then I saw this, and even though I don’t know what our baby is going to look like yet, I thought that she might like this, or look cute in it. I dunno, I saw it, and it kind of brought me back to what was important. Which is her.”

If she wasn’t so tired and pregnant, Hermione looked as if she might have jumped on him where they stood. Instead, she just looked at him with deep affection and smiled. 

“I don’t even know if I got the right size, but —”

“It’s perfect, Ron,” Hermione said, and this time she did come at him, albeit it was getting more difficult as the weeks went on. She kissed him. “You’re forgiven,” she then added. “Just don’t do it again, okay?”

“Never,” Ron promised. 

As Hermione snuggled against him, leaning up to kiss him again, Ron felt the strangest of sensations that took him a moment to realise it was the baby pushing against Hermione in what, to him, felt like a desperate attempt to escape her confinements.

He chuckled. “We’re going to have our hands full, aren’t we?” he asked.

“Probably,” Hermione replied. “She is half me and half you.”

“I can’t wait until she’s here,” Ron said. 

“Neither can I,” Hermione answered. “Neither can I.”

[whenihaveyouromione]

When I Have You - Chapter 87

Read on Fanfiction.net and ao3 if you'd like!

---

Chapter 87

Despite having every right to be there, Ron felt very out of place in the large Muggle baby store that he and Hermione had just entered. Not only was there an abundance of small children running around at his feet, more wild and more strong-willed than he’d ever known Victoire to be, but there were also so many things. 

Being the second youngest, Ron had no memory of how his parents raised him and his siblings, but he was fairly certain that they didn’t need twenty different types of blankets or a ridiculous amount of battery-powered toys or even an endless selection of places for a baby to sleep. He thought babies didn’t do much when they were so young. 

Upon entering, he stopped just to take everything in. It was overwhelming and he wasn’t so accustomed to the Muggle world that he knew what everything was. 

From beside him, Hermione extracted a piece of paper with a list of things they’d come to purchase. Frankly, they needed everything. This was their first baby after all, and Ron had flat out refused to accept the offer from Bill for some of the things Victoire and Dominique had grown out of. 

His daughter was not going to have secondhand things — he’d make sure of it. So, he supposed he only had himself to blame for finding himself here. He just hadn’t realised how much his daughter would need. 

“We should probably start with the big things first,” Hermione said, studying the list. “It’ll be easier to come back and get the smaller things later if we can’t get it all today.”

Ron nodded. “A place to sleep is the best place to start, I reckon.”

Hermione smiled. “Let’s go.”

They weaved their way down the aisles, pushing past families with small children and past parents pushing even smaller ones in what Hermione called ‘prams.' The cots were at the back of the shop, and when they arrived, Ron found a crowd of people already looking, pointing and discussing the different features each one had. 

Ron stopped again, looking at the cots. Why so many choices? A baby wouldn’t care where they slept. He’d witnessed James fall asleep in his highchair. And he was certain his daughter wouldn’t care what the decor of her bedroom looked like for at least ten years.

Couples wandered along the selections, the vast majority of them heavily pregnant. Most looked only weeks away from giving birth, which in Ron’s opinion — or Hermione’s more accurately — was leaving it a little bit too late.

“Why so many choices?” he asked, coming to stand beside Hermione, who was looking at a wooden cot frame. “This one’ll do, won’t it?”

Hermione didn’t answer immediately. She ran her hand along the top, then bent a little to peer at the bottom. Then she shook her head. “I’m not sure.”

“You’re not — Hermione, she’s not going to care.”

“I know,” Hermione said. “But I just don’t know whether to go with the cot immediately, or use a bassinet for the first few months. But, will it be a waste of money getting the bassinet?”

“Probably,” Ron muttered. 

“It’s just… they’ve already told us she’s going to be a big baby,” Hermione said. “Long — will probably grow to be tall like you. So we will probably get even less time in it if that proves to be true.” She bit her lip, thinking, while Ron sighed. Had he been expecting anything less from Hermione to go through all the possible options and weigh them until they reached the best conclusion? 

He sighed again, shook his head, and… smiled. He may as well enjoy his time here, he supposed. 

“Well, if she’s going to be long,” Ron said, “she probably won’t fit for very long in anything smaller than this.” He put his hand on the cot Hermione had just been looking at. “So, may as well go with this straight away, right?”

Hermione nodded. “I think you’re right. But I just thought it might be easier — you know, early on. I kind of think it would be easier to have her sleeping in our room at the start.”

“Well, this will fit in our room,” Ron said. “We have heaps of space. So, that’s not an issue.”

Hermione was silent again, thinking. “I just don’t like that one.”

Ron laughed to himself. “Well, lucky there’s heaps to choose from, huh?” He took her hand and pulled her gently over to the cot beside it. “What about this one?”

The process went on for a while longer, them looking at practically every cot the store had to offer. As Ron didn’t care which one, he followed Hermione along as she deliberated the pros and cons until she eventually settled on one she was happy with. It was a dark wooden one, matching the doors in the room that would be their daughter’s.

“Now the mattress,” Hermione said, writing down the name of the cot so they could come back to buy it at the end. 

“Well, there’s a good lot of them over there, too!” Ron said, pointing to the pile of mattresses near the cots. They were different colours, thicknesses and who knew what else. 

“Hm, probably the firmest one possible,” Hermione said.

So, they went around pressing down on all the mattresses to test their firmness. Ron actually found himself enjoying it, because they weren’t the only ones looking. 

“This one,” Ron eventually said, calling Hermione over. 

She pressed it and then smiled. “I think so.” And she wrote that down, too. 

Next, according to Hermione’s list, was to finish off the bedding section and they bought three separate sets of sheets that were the perfect size to fit over the mattress. They came in varying colours from pinks to blues to greens and yellows. But the ones that stood out to Ron were the bright orange set.

“Kind of reminds me of the Cannons,” he said. “Who knows, maybe she’ll be a Quidditch nut like a lot of the Weasleys.”

Clutching a plain white set and a pale pink under each arm, Hermione’s distaste was apparent in the way she looked at it. Before she even spoke, Ron could hear her telling him how it really wasn’t going to match the room and they weren’t going to get it. She even opened her mouth and he could see the words forming, but then, she stopped. Her face relaxed and she smiled up at him. “Do you want to decorate her room?” she asked.

“What?” Ron questioned, confused. 

Hermione indicated the sheets she was already holding. “You can, if you want. I mean, choose the covers and everything. I’ve resigned myself to the fact that our children are going to like Quidditch based on the environment they will be growing up in, so… why not give her a Quidditch themed room?”

Ron blinked. Was he hearing right? Hermione, who would look out into the garden and roll her eyes at the unused Quidditch posts that had been there for more than a year, was telling him she wanted to decorate their child’s room in bright orange and black. 

“Really?” he said after a moment, his tone tentative. 

“Yes, really,” Hermione said. “If you want. We’ll have to probably go to Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade for stuff like that, but… why not.”

Ron grinned, dropping the orange sheets into her hands. “She’ll know all the players by name before she can even talk.”

This time Hermione really did roll her eyes, but she didn’t speak. Instead, she passed the sheets back to Ron, took out her list, and ticked them off from it. 

“Next, a pram.”

“Really?”

Hermione turned to him, confused. “What do you mean, really? We’ll need one to get her around.”

“Yeah, but…” And Ron hesitated, searching for the right words. When they’d set out for Nottingham city today, he’d been under the impression they’d be returning with a bed, some sheets and maybe a few toys. Until a few moments ago, he’d never even seen a so-called pram before, let alone thought they’d need one. “Most babies — magical babies — are just carried around. You know, in slings or whatever. I just assumed —”

“Well, we can get one of those, too,” Hermione said. She looked down at the damned list. “I have it here as a maybe. Both would be good. But we could use the pram to go for walks around the neighbourhood. Let her see the sights.”

Ron shook his head. This was once again starting to become a little too much for him. “Alright,” he said. “Alright, let’s get that, too. No one else has one, but we’ll get it.”

“Ron, it’s —” 

“I said, let’s get it.” It sounded harsher than he intended it to. He wasn’t angry with Hermione — far from it — but being here had alerted him to how unprepared he’d actually been for having a baby. He could do beds, because even wizards used beds, but… he’d seen Hermione’s list, seen all the other things she’d deemed as essential, and it was far more than he’d ever anticipated. 

Until now, he’d thought himself on top of it all. For once, he actually thought entering parenthood was something he could do. His heart was already filled with so much love for their baby; he looked at all the ultrasound pictures on a daily basis. He knew he could handle the feeding, the crying, the nappies, because that was what parents did for their babies. He’d spent a good year and a bit preparing for those moments — looking forward to those moments. 

But if he hadn’t known that babies needed a seat with four wheels to be pushed around in, then what else hadn’t he known about? What other parts of becoming a parent was he unprepared for? He wanted to be the best dad he could be, but he could only do that if he knew everything beforehand. 

Hermione recoiled at his words, staring up at him in shock. “Ron, I didn’t mean to upset you. I just…” She sighed, shaking her head. 

“I said it’s fine,” Ron answered quickly. “We can get one. You choose, though, because I don’t know how the bloody things work. I don’t even know how to drive a car.”

Hermione watched him for a moment, looking surprised, angry and close to tears all at once. That was Hermione, though, especially now that she was pregnant. 

He walked away before she could say anything.. He stopped at the first pram and said gruffly, “What about this one?”

Hermione came to join him, her mouth moving, but no words coming out. Ron didn’t dare look at her, because he knew that he needed to get a hold of his emotions quickly. It wasn’t her fault. She’d done nothing wrong. All she was doing was trying to get everything for their baby, who was coming in just ten weeks. 

“Ron…” He heard the uncertainty in her voice. “Ron, we need something that… lies flat. This one doesn’t.”

Ron’s hand fell limp at his side as he fought back another wave of frustration. He should have known that. 

“Right,” he muttered. “Well, as I said, you choose. I’ll go and look at more blankets, because apparently that’s the only thing I’m capable of understanding.”

Before Hermione could say anything else, and before he could say anything to her that he’d regret, he walked away, feeling the immensity of the situation grow within him with every aisle that he passed. 

Prams, strollers, cots, highchairs, different types of blankets, breastfeeding pillows, baby monitors… what else were they going to come home with today? What other strange contraptions or necessities were there that Hermione knew about and he didn’t? She was going to be such a great mum. And until now, he’d thought he’d make an alright dad. But that was when he had thought the most important thing was to be able to love his baby. That, he could do. That, he could do very easily. But he had no clue how to work a pram, or what a baby monitor even was. He hadn’t seen that on Hermione’s list. Maybe there was some kind of spell for that instead. 

He shook his head and turned, for some reason, down an aisle with racks of tiny items of clothing. Baby suits, tops, pants, dresses, and even little shoes. There was only one other person there and they paid him no mind. 

He ran his hands over the clothes, feeling the softness of the fabrics. Everything was softer than anything he owned, but he supposed that was because babies' skin was more sensitive than that of an adult’s. 

A lump formed in his throat, which he fought back down. Fear was an all too familiar emotion for him. He’d felt fear a lot of times in his life — when he’d faced those giant spiders in his second year, when he’d gone to the Ministry to help Sirius and come face-to-face with Death Eaters who would’ve not thought twice to kill a group of teenagers, when he’d heard Hermione’s screams from above him, trapped and unable to do anything in the cellar of Malfoy Manor to help her. When he’d had part of Voldemort’s soul hanging around his neck, whispering horrible things to him, playing on his deepest fears. 

But this… this was a whole new level of terrifying, and he was only now beginning to realise it. In two and a half months, he’d be responsible for a whole other human. A tiny, fragile little human who would fit into clothes not much longer than his hands. One who would depend on him for everything, who’d demand his full attention, to feed her, to change her, to protect her. 

Why was this only occurring to him now? 

It was this place, the shop, that was doing it. He was seeing with his own eyes just how big a job raising a child was. 

His fingers stopped on an outfit hanging on one of the racks. It was a pale purple bodysuit with brown teddy bears patterned across it. He picked it up and studied the pattern, unsure as to why it had caused him to stop. There was nothing special about it, nothing overly appealing. But he couldn’t put it back either. 

He continued on down the aisle, carrying the teddy bear suit. By the end, he was face-to-face with toddler potties, which was something he assumed they wouldn’t be needing right now. Though, for all he apparently knew, maybe they did. 

As he walked down more aisles, not really in search of anything, his fingers kept brushing the soft, purple fabric of the outfit. It was so small. Had he picked up the wrong size? Surely his baby could not be so tiny. But it said ‘newborn’ on the tag, so it must have been right. Hermione would know…

He stopped walking. 

Hermione. 

He’d just left her by the prams, walked away without an explanation. He’d sounded angry with her, even though he hadn’t been. He’d been scared — terrified, actually — of it all. But he wasn’t usually one to walk away from what scared him. He never had. He’d faced those spiders despite it all, he’d gone to the Ministry, and he’d found a way out of that cellar to get to Hermione. 

Although, he’d left the tent that day in the forest… but he tried to come back immediately.

He owed her an explanation. Who knew what she was thinking right now. He walked quickly back down the aisles, still clutching the clothes and sheets. He returned to the pram section, but she wasn't anywhere to be seen. 

Had she left already? Or was she somewhere else in the store? It was so big, there was so much…

He began passing every aisle and looking down each in an attempt to find her. He considered maybe calling for her, but thought better of it. That would look pretty pathetic. The only time he'd seen that occur in a Muggle store was by a child who'd lost his parents. The store workers had made an announcement over a speaker and everything. 

After what felt like forever in searching, but really, probably only a few minutes, he spotted her by the change tables. It was obvious that she knew he was back, but she didn't acknowledge him, nor did Ron speak. He didn't know what to say.

Then, without a word, she wrote something down on her list and walked off, leaving Ron to follow after her.

The rest of their time there was spent in complete silence. There was no discussion, no wondering; it was just Hermione looking and then making decisions on her own. Like Ron had told her to do.

Eventually, after loading a basket with smaller things such as baby wipes, baby soap, some bath toys, and passing the basket to Ron, she made her way to the counter. 

"I'd like to place an order," she said briskly to the worker. Ron thought that was a bit unfair. The worker hadn't done anything to offend her — that was all on Ron. He'd lost it over a stupid pram. "I'd like to have it delivered on Tuesday. My husband will be home then."

That startled Ron. Had she checked his work schedule, or was he now required to ask for the day off for their furniture to arrive?

Rather perplexed by the way Hermione was speaking to him, the worker fumbled for a piece of paper.

"S-sure," he said, though he didn't look sure. In fact, he looked rather nervous. Hermione did have that effect on people who didn't know her at times. It was what made her such a great boss.

"What would you like?"

For the next few minutes, Hermione listed off the big pieces of furniture she'd recorded. Along with the cot and mattress, she had a pram, a change table, a bath and a list of other bits and pieces that were going to go in the baby's room. 

Ron just stood beside her without saying anything, no words coming to him even if he'd wanted to speak. 

Once the delivery time had been organised (between ten and two on Tuesday), Hermione paid for everything in Muggle money (she had a card to do that with) and then left the store without a word. 

Ron went to follow her, but then remembered the teddy bear suit he was still holding. He dug into his pockets, extracting a bunch of Muggle money Hermione insisted he carry at all times. The outfit was fifteen pounds, and he had fifty. The worker gave him change and then Ron hurried after Hermione.

He found her almost at the bus stop.

She must have heard him approaching, because she turned to face him, eyes wide and furious. 

“Hermione —” he began, quickly searching for the right words to say.

But before he had the chance, she spoke, her tone cold. “I can get the bus home myself. You can Apparate home.”

“Hermione —” Ron said again. “Listen, I’m so —”

“I’ll see you at home.” She turned on her heel and stalked away before Ron could stop her. 

He closed his eyes, the clutching the suit through his pocket, which he’d hurriedly stuffed in there. 

After a moment to gather himself, he followed her. He didn’t care how pissed off she was with him, he wasn’t going to let his thirty-week pregnant wife catch a Muggle bus home alone. He’d seen the unruly Muggles who lived in this area — some would consider her a weakness just because she was pregnant (and Hermione would never draw her wand on a Muggle, even in self defence). 

He fell inline beside her, but neither of them spoke. They just walked to the bus stop with an icy silence hanging over them. 

What was he supposed to do? How was he supposed to explain to her that he’d had a moment of panic — of doubt — about his own abilities to be a good dad? He was okay now, the moment of panic subsiding, replaced with a whole load of regret at how he’d reacted. But did she know that? If he looked at things from her point of view, he knew that she thought he was upset with her for wanting to buy a pram and then he had walked off because they couldn’t agree. He’d left her alone in the shop to do it all herself, when really, it was something they’d come to do together.

He shook his head at his own stupidity. 

Sitting down at the bus stop and waiting for the bus to come, they still sat in silence. Ron watched her, but she refused to even acknowledge him. So, rather than attempting to rectify the issue now, he just stayed with her.

In silence.