Always- a Hinny / Romione fanfic

Chapter Sixty Seven

Hermione sat in the kitchen after putting her daughter to bed, staring at the clock gloomily. It was well past the time that Ron was supposed to be home.

Normally, this worried her, worried her to the point where she had sent him owl after owl to make sure he was okay, but lately, it made her upset with her husband. He went to work early, came back late, while she herself was busy with her job, not to mention taking care of their daughter, cooking, and cleaning on top of it.

Finally, Hermione gave up waiting and settled in her room with a book, purposely but uncharacteristically avoiding paperwork.

The room was dim and cold to match her mood. A tear slipped down her cheek, not from sadness, but from frustration.

She knew that he was busy with work, and she knew that he worked hard at his job, she knew he was good at it, but at the same time, she was  overwhelmed with feeling like work was the only thing he did. Her mind raced in its free hours; was he mad? Was he mad at her? What could she do to fix it? Should she even ask?

The door creaked open and she jumped. Her husband appeared at the door, looking absolutely exhausted. There were bags under his eyes, and he was already untying his tie and heading for the bedroom to crash.

"Hey there," Hermione said softly, so softly it was just above a whisper. Ron nodded in her direction, yawned, and kept walking. Hermione, indignant, grabbed his shoulder roughly.

"Hey," she turned him to look at his bright eyes, which were wide in confusion.

"What?" His eyebrows crinkled and his eyes rolled. "Look, I've had a long day at work, and I-" he shook himself away, for some reason his anger rising, perhaps from accumulation of things "I don't have time for this tonight okay? I just want to sleep."

"You've always had a long day at work," for some reason, the tears were stinging at Hermione's eyes. The tears were always so close to the surface lately. She hardly let them fall, but sometimes they did, while she was waving her wand away at laundry or dishes, or in the middle of reading "Tales of Beetle the Bard" to rise, blotting the paper.

"Look, what's the deal?" Ron snapped, irritated. "I'm not in the mood for this,"

"The deal? Ron, the deal is that you're hardly home nowadays,"

"Yeah, well, I have a job, I have to work, I gotta put food on the table," he said, for some reason avoiding her eyes.

Hermione's mouth opened, then closed again, unsure of what to say.

"All you do is work. Work should be something you come home from, not what you go home to." She was trying very hard not to let her annoyance get the best of her, but it was proving difficult.

"Hermione, the office is just busy lately, and there aren't many aurors-" his voice was rising

"Doesn't mean that you-"

"I'm responsible-"

"I'M PREGNANT!" Hermione shouted. Ron was silent. He mouthed like a fish out of water for a moment.

"Really?" His tone had changed. It was soft, tender, alight with joy.

"Really." Hermione broke down in tears. "I'm pregnant and I'm afraid that I'm going to be raising them on my own,"

"Hermione I'm never ever going to leave-"

"I know that. But you're not present. And what's worse is that your job is dangerous, you could die, and I can't have you-"