Ron had expected Hermione to still be asleep by the time he had arrived back in Waverly. The house was still shrouded in the fading pre-dawn darkness; it would be a while yet before the sun would make its first appearance for the day. He had been up all night, probing every square inch of the Forbidden Forest with Hagrid, Harry, and Ginny. The blinding haze of rain and the pervading darkness of the imposing trees weren't going to deter him, though the feeble light from his wand and lantern did little more than reveal obscure shapes and outlines that didn't even become discernable until they were directly in front of him. Twice, he had stumbled over overgrown roots that jutted from the ground, and he was fairly certain too, that both times he had torn parts of his clothing, as well as probably skin, though if he had been bleeding, he would not have been aware of it; grief and anger had long numbed his nerves, and he could no longer tell if it was rain that had soaked through his clothes, or blood.

They had not been able to find him.

He would never have left the forest, if not for Harry's insistence that it was time Hermione knew what had happened. He was right, of course; Hermione should know. But Ron had hoped to delay telling her, had hoped there would be no need to do so because he had found their son. More than six hours had passed since Jack had vanished in the woods, and the logical part of Ron--the Auror in him--knew there would be no use looking. Still, he couldn't help but feel that going home to tell Hermione would be tantamount to giving up.

He had apparated outside the house--he didn't know why, really. Perhaps he had wanted those few extra moments to prepare himself for the grim task of breaking the news to Hermione, or perhaps he just needed that one second to breathe, to process what had happened within the span of the last thirty-six hours.

When he came inside, he heard footsteps coming from the top of the stairs, followed by an ecstatic squeal of, "Dad!!"

Caroline raced down the steps--something Ron and Hermione had warned her numerous times not to do--and ran towards him. Ron bent down and opened his arms, swooping her into him and squeezing her tightly. She giggled, as she always did when he held her, and said, "You're back!"

"Yeah," he said, using every ounce of his strength not to let the grief of the last few hours color his voice, "I sure am..." He pulled away to look at her. "Missed me, did you?"

"Just a little," she said. Only seven years old, and this wee one already displayed that knack for teasing that would make any Weasley proud.

"Oh... only a little, eh?"

"Well... if you'd been gone for one more day," she said, "I'd've missed you this much more!"

She spread her arms wide, which caused Ron to grin in spite of himself, and also inspired him to ambush her with tickles, making her dissolve into peels of laughter.

"Shh," he said, "let's not wake Mum. You know how grumpy she is when she first wakes up..."

"Mum's already awake."

"She is?"

Caroline nodded. "She's out in the garden," she said, pointing out the window that looked out into the backyard.

"Oh, I see."

He looked past her shoulder and out the window. Hermione was outside, all right, crouched down by the rose bushes, engaged in what he could only guess to be her absolute least favorite pastime of all: de-gnoming.

Without taking his eyes off Hermione, he said to Caroline, "Could you do something for me, love?"

"What, Dad?"

"Could you run upstairs and check on your sisters?"

"Oh, they're still sleeping-"

"I know," he said, "but can you go check on them anyway? I just need to talk to Mum for a bit, all right?"

She cocked her head and eyed him curiously. "About something important?"

"Grown-up stuff, Carrie."

"Oh." She wrinkled her nose. "Grown-up stuff again..."

"Yep, again," he said, unable to resist a smile. "Tell you what, when your sisters are up, I'll fix you all a nice big breakfast, how about that?"

Her eyes widened. "With lots of bacon??"

Ron laughed, then tapped her nose. "As much as you want," he said. "Deal?"

"Yes, all right, then!"

He watched her run up the stairs, heard a door shut a few moments later, and when he had made certain she couldn't come back out again, he took a deep breath and made his way out into the garden.

Hermione was not happy. He could hear her muttering furiously as she crept up and down the row of rose bushes, her hair as wild as ever as she pushed it back continually in annoyance whenever it fell in her past her shoulders and into her face. Even from a distance, he could make out some words: "Come out, you nasty little creatures!!"

"Perhaps if you laid out some fresh scones, that'd draw them out."

She gasped, clearly not expecting to hear a voice, then let out a relieved laugh when she saw it was him. "Ron! You nearly gave me a coronary sneaking up on me like that!"

"Sorry... What're you doing out here so early, anyway?"

She groaned. "Bloody little gnomes," she said. "Kept me up all night with all the racket they were making out here. And look at the mess they made, digging up holes and trampling all over my flowers... Ooh, they're horrid!!"

Ron usually had some sort of a witty comeback ready for occasions such as these; he knew Hermione would notice his lack of reply immediately.

"Hey," she said, nudging him, "you awake?"

"Yeah."

She arched an eyebrow, before breaking into a smile. "Oh really? What's the matter, did Harry and Ginny kick you out already?"

"Hermione, we need to talk..."

Panic flooded her eyes. He felt her hand grow cold in his, and he knew that she knew this could only be about one thing.

"Why?" she said. "Ron... is it Jack?"

"Let's go inside, love... We'll talk inside-"

"No!" she said, standing her ground when he tried to pull her towards the direction of the house. "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what's happened to our son!"

"Hermione-"

"Ron, just tell me, please!!"

He swallowed hard and took her other hand. Her lower lashes began to tremble, as tears started to form, but he could tell she was fighting hard to keep it together until he said what he had to say.

"Hermione, he's... disappeared..."

"What... what do you mean he's disappeared?"

"He had... tried to sneak out with Emily to fight some boy..."

"What??"

"But as they were on their way, he suddenly slipped out from under the invisibility cloak, and he just ran into the Forbidden Forest--he wouldn't come back when Emily called for him and tried to chase after him..."

He took a breath; he needed to steady himself before he could go on.

"Harry told me he'd been sleepwalking since term began, Hermione."

There was a small gasp, and he knew she had understood what that meant.

"Just like... Viktor's son," she murmured. "Just like that girl..."

He nodded. Hermione pulled away from him, shrugging him off when he tried to reach for her.

"I can't believe this," she kept saying, as she shook her head. "I can't believe this..."

"We looked all over for him... We searched the whole forest-"

"He was supposed to be safe there!"

"Hermione-"

"Things like this aren't supposed to happen anymore-"

"Hermione!" He grabbed onto her arms, and when she had stilled, he cupped her face. "I am not giving up, do you hear me? I'll be damned before I give up on our son!"

"He must be so scared, Ron... so scared..."

"I know, love..." He wrapped his arms around her, and absorbed her sobs into the folds of his robes. "Jack's a fighter--just look at who his parents are, eh? I'm going to find him, and those other children as well, and I'm going to bring them home..."

"Mum? Dad?"

They broke apart quickly at the sound of Madeline's voice, and instinctively, Ron moved to shield Hermione to give her a chance to wipe away her tears before their daughter had a chance to see that her mother had been crying.

"What're you doing up so early, Maddy?"

"I heard you from the window," she said. "Carrie said you were home, Dad... I wanted to come see you!"

He scooped her arm in his arms and gave her a big, loud kiss on the cheek. "Well, here I am, then..."

Unlike her sister, however, she wasn't easily distracted. At nine years old, she was far more aware of certain things than Caroline was.

"You sounded upset."

Hermione emerged from behind Ron. "Silly girl... we're fine, see?"

Madeline looked unconvinced.

"No you're not, Mum..." She reached up and caught a stray tear on Hermione's cheek. "You're crying... What's wrong? I heard you talking about Jack... is he okay?"

Hermione lifted her eyes to look at Ron. His first instinct was to say nothing; the last thing he wanted was for the girls to get upset over what had happened to their brother--or start to wonder about their own safety--but he just couldn't bring himself to lie to their daughter either.

He kneeled in front of her, and gently turned her in his direction. "I need you to be very brave for me, love, can you do that?"

She nodded.

"Good," he said, kissing her forehead, "good, that's my girl.."

"Why, Dad? What's wrong?"

"Something did happen to Jack, Maddy."

"Something bad?"

With great difficulty, he said, "Yes... Yes, something bad... He's... lost right now. But I don't want you to worry, all right? He'll be back before you know it-"

"You're going to find him Dad... aren't you?"

"Absolutely," Hermione said. "Dad's the best Auror in the world, right? We'll find him."

She probably hadn't intended for him to notice her sneaking in that we, but Ron caught it straight away. He was about to say something, then thought it best to wait until they were alone again.

"Do me a favor, all right? Go fetch your sisters, and I'll make us all breakfast in a bit."

Madeline grinned. "Carrie said Dad was going to fix breakfast."

"Oh," Hermione said, "even better, then. Dad will fix us all breakfast... Won't you, Ron?"

Experience had taught him Hermione was a force to be reckoned with when she had this look in her eye. He nodded absently. "Sure," he said, "breakfast... whatever you want..."

When Madeline had gone back inside and was out of earshot, he turned back to Hermione--but she was more than ready for him.

"Don't even try to talk me out of it, Ron," she said. This was an infuriating habit of hers, beating him to the punch before he could even say what she already knew he was going to say.

"Excuse me, but last I checked, married couples were supposed to discuss matters before making a decision," he said. "And furthermore, if I'm not mistaken, they decide things together too-"

"Not if one half of the couple is only going to try to dissuade the other half from doing what they both know she needs to do."

"Hermione!"

"Ron!"

She stared back at him, issuing a silent challenge for him to respond with something--anything--she could work with. She was ready to fight to death on this one, he could already tell. Blimey, he hated it when she got this way.

"I'm an Auror, Hermione. You're not. End of story."

She let out an incredulous laugh. "Come again?"

"Would you like me to repeat myself?"

"Oh, that won't be necessary," she said. "You're not the only one who's been through a dangerous situation or two, Ron Weasley, or must I remind you?"

So, she was going to play dirty, was she. Not a chance. No way in bloody hell was he going to let his wife put herself deliberately in danger.

"And you're the one who said she'd had enough of adventure to last her a lifetime--or must I remind you?"

She narrowed her eyes, clearly not expecting him to throw her own words back in her face like that.

"My son is already missing, Hermione. You're barking mad if you think I'm going to let anything happen to my wife, too."

"Our son," she corrected him. "And I can bloody well take care of myself, so this argument is over."

God, the woman could drive him absolutely insane. But of course, this was also why he loved her so damn much.

They stood like this for a while, staring each other down, until their stares softened, and he cupped her cheek.

"Are you sure?" he said softly.

She placed her hand atop his. "Ron, please let me do this... You know I trust you to bring him back, but I have to know that I did all I could to help."

"Hermione, you don't need to come with me to help-"

"Please, Ron."

He felt his lips curve into a grin, then he shook his head. "Fine, I give up," he said. "You always get your way anyway, don't you?"

She smiled. "I guess I do, don't I?" She stood on her toes and kissed him, then pulled away and started to make her way inside, stopping to say before she went in, "I'll go make breakfast."

He laughed--it felt good to laugh, despite the gravity of things--and watched her corral the girls into the kitchen, where they waved at him from the window. His thoughts wandered to Jack again, and how much he would have loved being a part of this early Sunday morning rousing. That familiar stinging in his eyes returned, and he shut them tightly before any tears had a chance to escape.

Jack was coming home. They were going to bring him home at all costs.