HP fic: Trying
Title: Trying
For: ronhermione33
Rating: PG
Pairing: R/Hr
Prompt: private/dance
Summary: Ron tries to pick up the pieces when some otherwise happy news leaves Hermione in anguish.
Weasley Christmases were noisy affairs, and only seemed to get noisier as the family expanded with significant others and children. They still gathered every Christmas Eve for a large dinner in anticipation of a much larger celebration the next day. The kitchen was far too small to accommodate the entire family, so they set up a couple of tables end to end in the sitting room. With the sofa and armchair banished to a corner, there had been just enough room.
Now that dinner was over, there was boisterous conversation going on all over the room. Ron was lying flat on his stomach on the floor, trying to teach his four-year-old niece Victoire the rules of chess. Hermione was carrying George and Angelina’s sleeping daughter Roxanne. She caught Ron’s eye and smiled softly.
Suddenly, above the din, Ron heard his mum shriek. He sprang to his feet, his wand already clenched tightly in his hand. He was puzzled to see his mum hugging Ginny tightly, tears rolling down her face.
“What’s wrong?”
“Mrs. Weasley?”
“Mum, is everything-?”
“Oh, Ginny,” Ron’s mum exclaimed as she released her from her embrace. “And Harry!”
“Er,” Harry said, looking at the confused room at large after being thoroughly hugged by Ron’s mum. “Ginny and I have just found out that we’re going to have a baby.”
The room erupted again. Ron stowed his wand back in his pocket and slowly made his way over to his best mate and his little sister. Somehow in the commotion, Ron lost sight of Hermione. When things finally quieted down, he realized she’d left the room. But when she didn’t return, he got concerned. He went upstairs to his old bedroom, where they were staying over Christmas, but she wasn’t there. He noticed the loo was unoccupied. Finally, he found her in the kitchen, leaning with her palms against the sink.
“Hermione?” he asked.
“I thought I’d put the kettle on,” she said softly.
“Is something wrong?”
“Of course, not,” she said, but she didn’t turn her face to look at him.
Ron thought back to anything he might have done to upset her, but he couldn’t think of anything. “Hermione.”
“It’s good about Harry and Ginny, isn’t it?” she said, still refusing to look at him.
“Yeah, I guess so,” Ron said, his forehead wrinkling in confusion. He gripped her by her shoulders and turned her toward him. He panicked when he noticed tears shining in her eyes. “What’s wrong?”
Hermione wiped furiously at her eyes. “I don’t… It’s selfish of me…should be happy…”
“Slow down,” he said, putting his arms around her waist. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“We’ve been trying for a year now,” Hermione said.
Ron felt a pang in his chest. “So we’ll keep on trying.”
“What if something is wrong with me?” Hermione said, tears running freely down her cheeks. “What if I can’t…?”
Ron cupped the back of her head and pressed her face against his shoulder. Her tears soaked his shirt. He could feel a lump rising in his own throat, but he managed to fight back his tears. “The healers said there wasn’t anything wrong.”
“No, they said they couldn’t be sure,” Hermione said. “They don’t know what the effects the Cruciatus Curse might have on me.”
Ron tightened his fists in anger. He’d been so frightened of losing her that day. He’d hoped in time that horrible day would be behind him, but no matter what they did, it always managed to manifest itself in their nightmares, in their worst memories, and now in their struggles to have a child. Death hadn’t been a good enough punishment for Bellatrix Lestrange as far as he’s concerned.
“I’m sorry,” Hermione said, sniffling. “I shouldn’t be doing this now. I am happy for them. I am. I just…”
“It’s okay,” he said, hugging her tighter. “We’ll figure something out. I promise.”
In the next room, Mrs. Weasley turned up the wireless to Celestina Warbeck’s annual Christmas broadcast.
“Come here,” Ron said. “Dance with me.”
“Ron…”
“Please, let me try to make it better, Hermione,” he said.
She nodded and slid her arms up around his neck, her face still buried into his shoulder. They began to sway slightly in time to the soft jazz number.
“I’m sorry,” Hermione said. “I feel terrible.”
“It’s okay,” he murmured into her soft hair.
He wished that he could promise her that things would be okay, that someday they’d be welcoming their own baby into the world, that they’d get to make their own announcement to the family. He wished he could tell her how badly he wanted all of that. But his uncertainty and fear of hurting her held his tongue.
“I’m knackered,” Hermione said. “I think I’ll head up to bed.”
Ron moved the tea kettle off the burner. “Go on up. I’ll be there in a while.”
“Thank you,” she said.
She kissed Ron and made her way upstairs, still looking terribly weary. He heard her climb the stairs and took a moment to compose himself before entering the sitting room to make their excuses.
For: ronhermione33
Rating: PG
Pairing: R/Hr
Prompt: private/dance
Summary: Ron tries to pick up the pieces when some otherwise happy news leaves Hermione in anguish.
Weasley Christmases were noisy affairs, and only seemed to get noisier as the family expanded with significant others and children. They still gathered every Christmas Eve for a large dinner in anticipation of a much larger celebration the next day. The kitchen was far too small to accommodate the entire family, so they set up a couple of tables end to end in the sitting room. With the sofa and armchair banished to a corner, there had been just enough room.
Now that dinner was over, there was boisterous conversation going on all over the room. Ron was lying flat on his stomach on the floor, trying to teach his four-year-old niece Victoire the rules of chess. Hermione was carrying George and Angelina’s sleeping daughter Roxanne. She caught Ron’s eye and smiled softly.
Suddenly, above the din, Ron heard his mum shriek. He sprang to his feet, his wand already clenched tightly in his hand. He was puzzled to see his mum hugging Ginny tightly, tears rolling down her face.
“What’s wrong?”
“Mrs. Weasley?”
“Mum, is everything-?”
“Oh, Ginny,” Ron’s mum exclaimed as she released her from her embrace. “And Harry!”
“Er,” Harry said, looking at the confused room at large after being thoroughly hugged by Ron’s mum. “Ginny and I have just found out that we’re going to have a baby.”
The room erupted again. Ron stowed his wand back in his pocket and slowly made his way over to his best mate and his little sister. Somehow in the commotion, Ron lost sight of Hermione. When things finally quieted down, he realized she’d left the room. But when she didn’t return, he got concerned. He went upstairs to his old bedroom, where they were staying over Christmas, but she wasn’t there. He noticed the loo was unoccupied. Finally, he found her in the kitchen, leaning with her palms against the sink.
“Hermione?” he asked.
“I thought I’d put the kettle on,” she said softly.
“Is something wrong?”
“Of course, not,” she said, but she didn’t turn her face to look at him.
Ron thought back to anything he might have done to upset her, but he couldn’t think of anything. “Hermione.”
“It’s good about Harry and Ginny, isn’t it?” she said, still refusing to look at him.
“Yeah, I guess so,” Ron said, his forehead wrinkling in confusion. He gripped her by her shoulders and turned her toward him. He panicked when he noticed tears shining in her eyes. “What’s wrong?”
Hermione wiped furiously at her eyes. “I don’t… It’s selfish of me…should be happy…”
“Slow down,” he said, putting his arms around her waist. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“We’ve been trying for a year now,” Hermione said.
Ron felt a pang in his chest. “So we’ll keep on trying.”
“What if something is wrong with me?” Hermione said, tears running freely down her cheeks. “What if I can’t…?”
Ron cupped the back of her head and pressed her face against his shoulder. Her tears soaked his shirt. He could feel a lump rising in his own throat, but he managed to fight back his tears. “The healers said there wasn’t anything wrong.”
“No, they said they couldn’t be sure,” Hermione said. “They don’t know what the effects the Cruciatus Curse might have on me.”
Ron tightened his fists in anger. He’d been so frightened of losing her that day. He’d hoped in time that horrible day would be behind him, but no matter what they did, it always managed to manifest itself in their nightmares, in their worst memories, and now in their struggles to have a child. Death hadn’t been a good enough punishment for Bellatrix Lestrange as far as he’s concerned.
“I’m sorry,” Hermione said, sniffling. “I shouldn’t be doing this now. I am happy for them. I am. I just…”
“It’s okay,” he said, hugging her tighter. “We’ll figure something out. I promise.”
In the next room, Mrs. Weasley turned up the wireless to Celestina Warbeck’s annual Christmas broadcast.
“Come here,” Ron said. “Dance with me.”
“Ron…”
“Please, let me try to make it better, Hermione,” he said.
She nodded and slid her arms up around his neck, her face still buried into his shoulder. They began to sway slightly in time to the soft jazz number.
“I’m sorry,” Hermione said. “I feel terrible.”
“It’s okay,” he murmured into her soft hair.
He wished that he could promise her that things would be okay, that someday they’d be welcoming their own baby into the world, that they’d get to make their own announcement to the family. He wished he could tell her how badly he wanted all of that. But his uncertainty and fear of hurting her held his tongue.
“I’m knackered,” Hermione said. “I think I’ll head up to bed.”
Ron moved the tea kettle off the burner. “Go on up. I’ll be there in a while.”
“Thank you,” she said.
She kissed Ron and made her way upstairs, still looking terribly weary. He heard her climb the stairs and took a moment to compose himself before entering the sitting room to make their excuses.