Title: Remade
Pairing: /
Rating: Sa9+
Warnings: Post Deathly Hallows! Not exactly epilogue compliant though.
Summary: Ron comes back from war and things aren't the way he left them.
Author's Notes: *insert disclaimer here* Thanks as always to ginnyjf (over at livejournal) for beta-ing this. Any errors are all mine. First R/Hr fic, so I would love feedback. As with all my stories this is a one-shot!

Enjoy!

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Hermione remained absolutely still as Ron raged, spewing words of pain, fear and hate. He opened and closed his fists as if this would help pump the words out of him. Then, tired of screaming, he turned his back to her. He felt a pain in his chest that ran deep. He stared at the wall; looking at her was still too wrenching. Ron had never been particularly gifted with words or expressing his feelings, but from the moment Hermione had opened the door to her small flat he had not given her a chance to speak, immediately releasing everything he had inside of him.

"I'm sorry," Hermione whispered miserably, her voice anguished.

Ron fell silent and closed his eyes. There were so many emotions running through his heart that he didn't know what more he could do to ease the pain. He was happy to have found her alive and well but he also felt insulted by the truth she had hidden from him for so long. He had not seen this woman in seven years and in seven years they had both changed drastically.

They were teenagers back then and everything was different. They were best friends. He trusted her with his life. They had their differences of opinion, but it was nothing compared to the trials they would endure, and in the face of hard times they fell in love. Her smile brought him to life every time he had the good fortune of seeing it. They had made promises to one another about their future. He sneered at that thought as he finally turned to her and saw the sadness etched into her face. Tears fell from her eyes. She was now a woman who time and experience had damaged, and he was now a man who had seen much worse. He didn't know what to think. The war changed everything.

"I know it's difficult, Ronald, but I can't change what's happened."

"And that makes it better?" he asked incredulously. "I should accept this like everything's okay and just move on with my life?"

"I know I should have told you but..."

"Then why didn't you?" he interrupted, pointing his finger accusingly. The roar of his voice seemed to shake the living room around them. "Why didn't you tell me we had a son?!" Frustrated, Ron kicked a side table nearest him, knocking it to the ground and shattering a lamp that sat on top of it. His sudden movement scared Hermione.

"I did the best I could!" she cried, beginning to shake. "You left and never looked back! What other choice did I have?"

"I left to fight for you, for us...for our lives! When I came back you had disappeared. I've been looking for you for the past four years, Hermione. Do you have any idea what that's like?" He lost his voice for a moment and began to cry. "I had to chase you like you were a...a fugitive just to get some answers."

"I begged you to stay for a little while longer, but you left anyway..."

"I would have stayed had you told me."

"There wasn't anything I could have said that would have made you stay."

"That's not true!"

And although Ron denied it, deep inside he knew she was right. After the defeat of Voldemort, the thought of a new dark lord rising was unbearable. All the stories of glory and justice filled him with illusions and silly ideas about heroes and villains. When the opportunity to battle presented itself, he threw himself to chance without a second thought.

"I did it because I loved you, Hermione."

"And look where it's gotten us..." She held up her arms to the small and humble living area with second-hand furniture and pieces of wood and porcelain scattered around the floor. All the illusions of victory were gone. His heart felt heavy and suddenly Ron was ashamed.

"I thought I was doing the right thing." he said.

"So did I."

Ron saw the great compassion in her eyes and knew she understood.

Silence ruled them for a long time after that, their breathing the only sign of life. Then, a door at the end of the living room opened little by little and an innocent face stood out against the darkness.

"Mommy?" said the child, rubbing his sleepy eyes. He looked at the stranger.

Ron needed no explanation. He would recognize that hair and those small freckles anywhere. This was his son, almost seven years old. He felt the world stop in that moment.

'"Go back to bed, Hugo. I'll be right there." Hugo obeyed his mothers wishes but not without giving Ron one last curious look. When the door was closed once more Hermione was the first to speak.

"Do you want to meet him?" Her voice was soft and nervous, but full of hope.

In all of his pain and anger Ron had forgotten the most important thing: his family and his heart. On his quest for what he had lost he almost lost much more. Hermione had given him a son, and above all things, he was grateful for it. He crossed the room and hugged Hermione with all his strength. She held him close. For the first time in years, Ron truly felt alive again.

"Forgive me, Hermione," he whispered lovingly in her ear. "Forgive me."