Hermione looked up as the door opened, hoping that it wasn't yet another member of the Weasley family. There was only one Weasley she wanted to see, and he was upstairs right now, busy with his lover. Mr and Mrs Weasley were sitting calmly, though Mr Weasley was reading his paper upside down and Mrs Weasley's knitting had more holes in it than a tea strainer. The twins had arrived ten minutes ago and were pacing about while Ginny tried to play draughts with Hermione. Neither girl could concentrate though, and their moves were sadly uninspired. They'd been here all day, and Harry's baking had provided them with a quick lunch. It was getting on her late afternoon now, and she wondered how much longer things were going to take.

"Ron!" Mrs Weasley exclaimed and Ron inched into the room, a bassinet balanced carefully in his arms. Everyone started talking at once, and Molly shushed them fiercely. Harry had not announced the sex of his child, nor its name, so Hermione was burning with curiosity. If Ron knew he hadn't been telling, obviously honouring a promise to Harry, and despite the fact that she was fairly sure she could get the truth out of the redhead, Hermione had restrained herself and helped him keep his promise.

"Twins!" Fred crowed as the bassinet was placed on the large coffee table, "Ronny, you sly devil!"

Hermione gasped, looking at the babies wrapped in yellow bundles. Both had dark auburn hair, though one had more than the other. They were still fairly red, but sleeping peacefully and a glance at Ron's shining face told her that he was not surprised to be the father of twins.

"Well? Boys or girls?" George demanded over the babble of questions and congratulations.

"Sit down, mum and dad and I'll introduce you," Ron replied, and Hermione watched the new grandparents obediently take their seats side by side on the couch. Ginny was bouncing on the balls of her feet and Hermione joined her, unable to stand still for another moment. Ron rolled his eyes at them both, but stooped and picked up the baby with the least hair.

"Dad, this is my first born son," Ron put the baby into his fathers experienced arms, "Arthur James Potter."

"Oh Harry," Arthur whispered, "Ron are you sure that's what he wants?"

"Positive," Ron nodded and Hermione had to wipe her eyes with her hand. The look on Arthur's face as he held his namesake was priceless and a flash from George's camera captured the moment for posterity. Ron grinned and went to pick up the other baby, turning to his mother who held her arms out eagerly.

"Mum, this is my first born daughter," Ron transferred the tiny bundle carefully, "Rosemary Molly."

"One of each!" Ginny squealed, "Ron! You didn't tell us!"

"I knew we were having twins, but Harry was the only one who knew their sex or their names. I sent him a few suggestions and agreed to let him pick the ones he wanted," Ron blinked as the flash went off again while Molly rocked a little, cooing at her granddaughter.

"How is Harry?" Hermione asked, glancing up at the ceiling for a moment. There had been some very strong privacy spells on the second floor, which not even the twins could bypass. That was understandable; Hermione wouldn't want an audience either, especially not one given to pranking or fussing.

"He got a very glazed look in his eyes just after he named Rosemary and sort of slumped over," Ron grinned dotingly and Molly chuckled, looking up at her grown twin boys who shuffled their feet and generally looked uncomfortable.

"I know that feeling," she kissed the baby she was holding and Ron sat on the coffee table, reaching out to adjust Arthur's blanket.

"I carried him to bed, and Alice is going to watch over him for a while. She told me to bring the babies down here to brag," Ron finished, and Hermione hugged him. One of his wrists was badly bruised and he looked a bit worn and frazzled, but there was such a glow of happiness about him that it didn't seem to matter.

"I've got some salve for your wrist, it's in my bag," Molly had also noticed, "Ginny, fish it out dear."

Hermione pulled Ron's hand into hers and held it still while Ginny smoothed salve with a light touch. Harry's fingers were clearly marked out but Ron didn't seem to mind.

"Was it… was he ok?" Ginny asked worriedly, and Hermione knew what she was thinking. Harry had quite the temper on him, and spending a day with someone who was screaming abuse at you - no matter what the cause - was no fun.

"He was fine Ginny," Ron grinned, "He was good as gold about the whole thing, though he was exhausted towards the end. The bruises don't matter."

Hermione took that to mean that Harry had pulled back into his most stoic self, which meant that the grip he'd had on Ron's wrist had been the most comfort he'd allowed himself. Harry wasn't one to seek comfort and reassurance when hurt or ill, something that the Dursley's had no doubt indoctrinated him in.

"My turn," Ginny broke into Hermione's musings and held her arms out to her dad.

"Sit down first," Ron demanded, and Ginny pulled a face but obeyed the new father. A thought struck Hermione as Ron ushered her to another chair and Molly put Rosemary into her arms.

"Ron, what are they going to call Harry?"

Ron chuckled and Molly beamed, adjusting the folds of Rosemary's blanket and stepping back to let George take a picture.

"He's their mum, I'm their dad," Ron shrugged, "He was already calling himself that when I came at Easter - he used to talk to them when they kicked. Harry wants them to have both, and I'm not going to argue about it with him. He's happy and that's what matters."

Hermione rocked the surprisingly heavy baby in her arms and smiled when Rosemary's eyes blinked open and the baby yawned.

"She's awake!" Hermione looked up at Ron, "Her eyes are green!"

Ron smiled proudly. His hair and Harry's eyes - there was no denying who'd contributed to the genetic makeup of the twins. Molly and Arthur pulled their youngest son into a bear hug, which George also took a picture of while Fred whined that he wanted to hold the baby. Ginny gave in, to shut him up, and George took Rosemary, both twins posing for their pictures, which Ginny took.

"Pictures with Dad!" Fred announced as Arthur began to fret and Ron sat down, holding his arms out eagerly. He held a baby in each arm, talking softly to his son, who yawned and went back to sleep. George took a picture, but Hermione didn't think they'd need it. There would be no forgetting the sight of Ron and his children, the redheads pride and love radiating off him in almost visible waves. It hit Hermione that her friend had grown up in the space of a few hours, and if the love in his eyes were anything to go by he'd be a great Dad.

0o0o0o0

Ron woke to the sound of muffled cries and Harry's sleep roughened voice. His family had installed themselves in the guest rooms after dinner while Hedwig and Sunny delivered letters to Ron's oldest brothers and the Headmaster. Alice had gone home, announcing that Harry's insides were once more in their original configuration, though Ron's lover would undoubtedly be sore for a few days.

"Hush Rosemary, Mum's got you," Harry was mumbling and Ron opened his eyes in time to see Harry settle on the edge of the bed, daughter in one arm and bottle in the other. The muffled cries stopped as she latched on, and Harry hummed a little under his breath. Ron stirred cautiously, and Harry turned his head to look, smiling when he was Ron was awake. He began to rock a little, back and forth now that he knew he wouldn't wake Ron - Harry was a considerate bedmate.

"Did we wake you?" the question was a familiar one, as Harry had become an even more restless sleeper than usual towards the end of his pregnancy. Ron shook his head and crawled over to his family, snaking his arms around Harry and kissing his ear gently. Sunny was perched on the bassinet, watching little Arthur sleep, though he was also glancing at Harry from time to time. Hedwig hadn't moved from her perch last night, but she was also awake and watching.

"You ok?" Ron murmured and Harry nodded, checking the bottle was at the right angle. Ron pursed his lips and slid off the bed, coming around to crouch at Harry's feet, demanding his attention with a single finger under his chin.

"Are you hurting?" Ron asked baldly, and Harry grimaced in reply.

"A little," he muttered, which explained the rocking. It was a soothing motion and had helped with the pain yesterday, up to a point. Ron hated that Harry was hurting, but had no time to pursue that avenue as Arthur announced his return to wakefulness. Ron fed their son, another charmed bottle waiting at the foot of their bassinet, and together they burped their children, changed nappies, cleaned tiny bodies and dressed the babies, ready for the guests that would arrive today. The Headmaster was coming - Fawkes would bring him and McGonagall who had asked especially to be allowed to visit - and Sunny would fetch Remus on his way back from visiting Bill.

Once the babies were ready for round two of the adoration fest that had occurred last night, Ron ensured they were both tucked into their bassinet for a nap and came to hold his partner, pushing Harry to lie on his back and rubbing his belly tenderly. Harry sighed after a long moment, the tension slowly dribbling away under Ron's touch. It always amazed the redhead that his touch could soothe and relax his partner, as well as arouse or energise him. Harry broke into his thoughts by kissing him soundly and Ron indulged in a nice slow snogging session, aware that the opportunity for that would be slim today.

"We're never having sex again," Ron muttered when Harry was totally relaxed beneath him, a statement that promptly ruined all his hard work.

"The hell you say," Harry spluttered indignantly, "Ron, I don't regret a second of the last sixth months."

"You're hurting," Ron reminded him and Harry rolled his eyes before rolling them over and kissing Ron energetically.

"I'm fine," Harry replied firmly, "But I stink and I want to clean up. Be right back."

Ron groped his partner as the green-eyed teen slid off the bed and Harry had to adjust himself a little before stepping out for the bathroom, a leer thrown over his shoulder for good measure. He was back twenty minutes later with a report that their guests all seemed to be asleep still, and Ron went for his own turn in the bathroom while Harry napped fully dressed on their bed, a better indicator of how he was feeling than his previous words.

Ron once more carried the bassinet downstairs, a manoeuvre the twins slept through while Harry followed behind. Ron had heard his mother moving about when he left the bathroom, and he'd left Harry to sleep a while longer, sitting at the foot of the bed and watching closely. It was rare for Harry to sleep deep and peacefully, and when he did manage it was best to let him sleep for as long as possible. By the time Harry had woken most of the family had gone downstairs and Ron had spent another ten minutes kissing his partner while soothing away the aches.

"Harry!" Molly gasped as his lover followed him into the kitchen and Ron stepped smartly aside, letting the Weasley's have access to the 'mother' of their first grandchildren. Harry was hugged and kissed and tenderly escorted to a seat where he was fussed over by everyone. He emerged from the scrum blushing and rumpled and Ron laughed softly at him, picking up Arthur when he fussed and handing him over at Harry's silent request. The baby settled quickly when Harry spoke to him, one finger brushing over a rosy cheek.

"We need a picture of them all together," George announced and Harry took Rosemary as well, smiling at his twins and blinking when the flash went off. Ron joined them for a photo as well, knowing that George would ensure that copies of the pictures found their way to just about every member of the family, himself included. He wanted as much of their life together recorded as possible, the slim album of photos that Harry had of his parents weighing heavily on Ron's mind.

There was a flash and Sunny appeared in the kitchen, two men grasping his tail.

"Bill!" Molly exclaimed even as Harry cried,

"Remus!"

The werewolf smiled and inched forward, peering at the twins Harry was still holding, his hands clasped together as if to prevent him from touching. Harry had spoken to Ron about the last Marauder, and they had agreed that Remus Lupin be allowed to touch the babies and spend time with them as long as precautions were taken around the cycles of the moon. James and Lily Potter hadn't cast him aside when Harry was born and the man was the closest thing Harry had to family outside of the Weasley's. The Dursley's didn't count as they would never meet Harry's children.

"It's alright, Remus," Ron said softly, his heart breaking at the longing in Remus eyes. It was obvious he didn't expect to be allowed to touch or hold Harry's children, "Come and say hello."

"Your uncle Moony is here," Harry informed the twins and Ron had to look away from the tears on Remus' worn face. Sunny disappeared while Bill came to hug Ron and mutter congratulations. There was another flash and Charlie appeared in the kitchen as well, and the young Phoenix fluttered tiredly to a perch on the dresser while Ron's mum fussed over her two eldest and Remus rocked Harry and the twins in his arms, having chosen to hold all three at once, his thin chest pressed to Harry's back.

Ron hurried to provide food and water for Sunshine, who was looking a bit drained from the effort of transporting three people in one morning. The fire flight was still a new skill, and Sunshine had the tendency to tire if he over used it. Ron stroked the Phoenix while it drank deeply from the water he had provided.

"Thanks," he whispered, glad that all his family was here now and getting a soft burst of song in reply that lifted his spirits even further. It was a shame that Percy had yet to speak to anyone in the family once the Minister had been forced to acknowledge that Harry hadn't been lying, but then Ron hadn't expected the third eldest Weasley to swallow his pride quickly. He'd send Pigwidgeon with a letter containing his news after breakfast, and that would have to be enough.

0o0o0o0

The door to the front room opened cautiously as the clock on the mantle chimed five and Ron grinned as Harry stuck his head in, surveyed the lay of the land and then slipped inside. Ever since the twins had started crawling it was unsafe to open doors without checking there wasn't a baby behind it first - especially as Rosemary liked to pounce on people's feet, a trait that Remus said she'd inherited from Harry.

"How was Potions?" Ron asked, knowing that his partner had just come from there and was probably quite annoyed. Snape had not warmed to Harry since he became a 'mother', though the Potions Master curbed his tongue in front of the twins. Harry was having intensive lessons with the man once a week, brewing two or three potions a lesson in order to catch up with the work he missed in sixth year. He would return to the castle to sit the end of year exams with Ginny's year, though he would sleep with their old dorm mates.

"Satisfying," Harry grinned and side stepped his daughters pounce with the ease of practice, "He couldn't fail me."

That didn't mean that Snape hadn't faulted him at every turn, though Harry was well used to this. Ron smiled and accepted the warm kiss that Harry gave him every time he emerged from lessons at the end of the day. It was a ritual that Ron enjoyed immensely, especially as they had little time for more enjoyable physical intimacy. The twins were very active and inquisitive and needed careful watching.

"Mum," Arthur tugged on Harry's trouser leg and Ron watched his partner pick up their son. He still hadn't gotten used to the look of pride and contentment that would appear on Harry's face when one of the twins called for his attention. 'Mother' and son sat in the armchair opposite Ron's and examined the wooden block that Arthur had wanted to show the dark haired man.

The twins had inherited Harry's unruly locks, though they retained the dark red of their father. Their green eyes had faded a little, changing more towards their father's blue, and Harry had bemoaned that if it weren't for the fact that he'd given birth to them he wouldn't know they were his. Ron had pointed out that their children had inherited Harry's hands and slight build - both twins were slender in physique despite their Grandmothers best attempts to feed them to death - and Harry had made a crack about keeping his 'girlish figure' that had Ron gasping with laughter.

Christmas had been a real riot, as Grimmauld place once again filled with Weasley's to celebrate the holiday. At Harry's insistence they'd taken all their meals in the conservatory, with the singing roses harmonising Christmas carols. The twins had received a slew of presents - more toys than they'd ever play with in a lifetime - and much to Harry's obvious surprise he'd been spoilt rotten too. Though his lover didn't seem to realise it, Ron's family held him in high esteem for the gift he'd given them. Some Wizards chose not to go through with their pregnancy as it was well understood that the process could be dangerous. Madam Pomfrey would have informed Harry of this the moment she made her diagnosis, and the fact that Harry had never once mentioned the option to anyone - plus the twins undeniable existence - was more than enough proof that the green-eyed teen had wanted these children from the moment he'd found out about them.

Thankfully they were not inundated with family on a regular basis. Hermione and Ginny had come to visit over the Easter holidays and the twins popped in at irregular intervals, and of course Molly and Arthur were there every second or third afternoon, but on the whole things were fairly quiet. Harry was studying hard in between lessons and Ron was managing the children while all this went on. He even helped his lover with the homework at night, using it to refresh his own memory.

"I'm heading for school in three weeks," Harry's voice broke Ron's train of thought, and he jumped, though that was more because Rosemary had attacked his left foot. Harry laughed and put Arthur down to play with his sister, now that the block had been thoroughly discussed and Harry had obligingly changed its colours a few times to happy chuckles.

"Yeah, we're going to miss you," Ron got up and came to sit on Harry's lap instead, something that always made Rosemary giggle, though they weren't sure why.

"Are you sure you don't mind? I can commute there and back," Harry offered, "I know your mum's coming over too, but…"

"But nothing," Ron replied firmly, "We have a deal. You get really good marks in the exams and mum and dad get the twins for a week while we celebrate. I'm going to reward you for all your hard work."

"Sounds nice," Harry said wistfully and Ron kissed him gently. Despite his strong words he really didn't want Harry to go away for that time at school, even though he knew he could cope by himself. The fact was that this time off school had shown Ron how rewarding time with his family could be, and having an important part of that family leave for a while - even though it was temporary - would be difficult.

0o0o0o0

Hermione met Harry in Hogsmeade, as it had been decided that he would arrive on a Hogsmeade weekend and walk up to the castle with his friends. Though he had wanted Ron to come with him and see the rest of Gryffindor, the redhead had refused stating that he was reluctant for them both to leave the babies the first time. While the twins were used to having Mum or Dad disappear one at a time now and then, the other parent was always there to comfort them. Ron didn't think they should have to deal with a dual parent separation until Harry had finished sixth year.

The seventh years were a bit subdued in Hogsmeade as this was the last weekend before their NEWTS started on Tuesday. OWLs and NEWTS were held separately, and the OWLs had been held last week. It was easier to control the relieved fifth years than the overly emotional seventh years and Hermione was also grateful for the additional preparation time. Harry would only be attending classes that he had tests for, which meant he'd be around while she revised, but she was secretly hoping he wouldn't expect too much attention from her. These tests were important and she couldn't afford to mess them up.

Harry was looking well, though a little unsure at finding himself suddenly child and spouse free for a week. Sunny was riding on his shoulder and trilled at the sight of Hermione, a sound as good as a hug, which Harry administered moments later.

"Ron says hello," he beamed when he let her go, and then frowned a little, taking her in from head to toe, "You're a bit pale, Hermione, are you ok?"

"I'm fine!" Hermione felt a flush of irritation and Harry stepped back from her, his hands raised in an appeasing manner. She sighed ruefully and reached out to pat his shoulder, "Sorry Harry, it's just that with NEWTs and everything…"

"Well, if you don't have anything to do in town I'm happy to head up to the castle. I want to look over some of my notes anyway and I'm sure you could find some revising to do," Harry offered with his familiar crooked smile, and Hermione flung her arms around him in thanks. Though this was his first time out of the house since he'd been told he was pregnant, the fact that Harry was willing to forgo an afternoon of distraction was a sign that he was taking these tests seriously and made Hermione warm all over.

She hurried him back up to the castle before he could change his mind, and Harry went upstairs to deposit his trunk, coming back down to the common room with a stack of potions books and notes. They sat quietly in the corner, working away until dinnertime, when Seamus and Dean hurried in to deposit their purchases and then go to dinner.

Hermione watched as the boys greeted Harry enthusiastically and some of the tension in her friend eased. He must have been nervous about facing his friends after such an unusual separation, and the fact that they weren't edging away from him must have been reassuring. The Gryffindor table was as rowdy as usual and Harry seemed a little lost for a moment.

"I keep thinking I need to get a plate ready for the twins," he muttered in her ear, "This is weird."

"It's only for a week, Harry," she commiserated, but Dean leaned across the table and interrupted with a question that Hermione had hoped wouldn't be asked in public.

"So Harry, what was it like?" Dean was not subtle and a good many people stopped their conversation to hear Harry's answer, even one or two of the Slytherin's leaned over a bit to hear more clearly. Hermione knew that Harry had to have been expecting that question and couldn't decide if her friend was going to go into graphic detail, or evade answering altogether. In the end she needn't have worried, because Harry had the perfect answer.

"It was worth it," Harry replied serenely, "Though I'm really missing them - it seems strange not to be feeding someone and trying to eat your own dinner."

"You can feed me if you like," Ginny offered and Harry laughed lightly, thanking her for the offer as the rest of the people in earshot cracked up and went back to their dinners, though Dean and Seamus still looked very curious. Neville distracted them by knocking Seamus goblet of pumpkin juice over - something Hermione was sure he'd done on purpose - and the moment passed.

Harry winked at her and passed the dinner rolls, proving that their long separation had not destroyed their ability to almost read each other's minds. Hermione felt a warm glow, better than the one she got from listening to Sunny sing, and helped herself liberally to potatoes.

0o0o0o0

"Rosemary, you don't touch Papa's wand!" Harry hastily fished Rosemary's hand out of the Headmasters robes, pulled the wand from her clutching fist and returned it to its owner before retrieving his daughter sternly. Molly and Arthur were Granny and Granddad, but the Headmaster was Papa, an honorary that Harry had bestowed almost by accident, much the way Rubeus Hagrid had become 'Haggy' to the twins.

"Wand!" Rosemary insisted, leaning back towards the chuckling Dumbledore who kissed her searching hands but didn't interfere, much to Harry's relief. Bright green was not becoming on one of his dignity and stature and it had taken the combined efforts of Minerva and Poppy to restore his hair, beard and eyebrows to its normal hue.

"Forgive me Harry, she is a little too quick for such a staid old man," Dumbledore tickled Rosemary under the chin and ignored Minerva's unladylike snort as Harry put her sternly on the floor of their new living quarters with injunctions to be good. She was far too fond of grabbing other people's wands and creating havoc, which meant that Harry had stopped carrying his altogether - his wand less magic surging to the fore as a result. At a year old, the twins were coming along in leaps and bounds, toddling unsteadily for short distances and using a very limited vocabulary.

"Down," Arthur announced and Minerva put him down reluctantly, steadying him onto wobbly legs and watching as he went tottering across the room towards the box of toys that had been the first thing Harry unpacked from his pockets.

"It's a lovely room, thank you sir," Harry glanced at the small common room with its big table for studying or feeding children at, and the three doors marked nursery, bathroom and bedroom. They were adjacent to the kitchen, the rooms in an out of the way corridor that would discourage half of Gryffindor from coming down to visit when they felt like it, though he was sure that Ginny would be in here whenever she could. She was a devoted Aunt and an excellent babysitter.

Harry was relieved they'd have some privacy - he'd been questioned closely for the entire week he'd stayed with Gryffindor, making up his sixth year, and it had been an exhausting experience. He wasn't in the habit of lying to people, and though his friends meant well some of the questions had been very personal. Thinking up answers that were honest yet unrevealing had been tricky. Taking care of two energetic toddlers and Ron was almost a holiday in comparison.

"You're very welcome, Harry," Dumbledore twinkled at him, "I do hope you will excuse the urgency of moving you into these quarters before the holidays even finish, but with Lestrange and several of her colleagues sighted so close to Grimmauld Place, and Nott and Avery near the Burrow…"

"Its not a problem," Harry smiled, lying through his teeth. It was a problem - Ron was furious that their home had to be abandoned, that his plans for some time alone with Harry had been dismissed by the headmaster, backed up by his parents and by Harry himself who didn't want to take the risk that Lestrange would find them. Ron had yet to speak to him other than in reference to the twins, and Harry was missing the redhead's friendship. This was their first fight since the twins had been born - minor disagreements and moments of grumpiness didn't count.

"If you are sure," Dumbledore gave him a very penetrating look, which he smiled at and glanced down to see what Arthur was scolding his sister for. Rosemary was trying to crawl her way around the fireguard to the empty fireplace.

"Accio ball," Harry held his hand out calmly and snatched the toy out of the air. He cleaned the soot off and tossed it to his son, who crowed happily and batted it back towards Professor McGonagall. Rosemary wormed her way out of the fireguard and Harry moved it closer to the fireplace, putting a sticking charm on it to prevent similar incidents.

The portrait door opened and Ron stepped in, glancing around the room curiously before greeting his teachers. Harry took the opportunity to slip into the room marked nursery and unpack the trunk of baby clothes they'd brought, slipping things into the dresser provided and checking the two cribs as well.

When he emerged the teachers were gone and Ron was sitting on the couch, watching Arthur explore a bookcase while Rosemary played with the blocks. Sunny had arrived and was perched on the arm of an empty chair, closely supervising Arthur's curiosity.

"Hello," Harry said, and the Phoenix trilled in reply. Ron grunted as well, and Harry sighed, "Look, I know that you wanted to go away for a bit, and if you still did then maybe you should take some time off. We'll be ok here without you; the elves are apparently eager to help…"

"Nice to know I can be easily replaced," Ron snapped, "Thanks for nothing."

"I didn't mean that," Harry tried to keep his tone level, not wanting to blow up in front of the twins, "You've been stuck with us for a whole year without a break, and I thought you might…"

"No Harry, obviously you have no idea what I'm thinking," Ron spat, "Otherwise you wouldn't have made such a stupid offer."

"So I'm being stupid, now, to offer you some time off," Harry snarled in a low voice, fed up and not bothering to hide it, "Fine. How about I take some time off then?"

And he dumped the shrunken trunks he was still carrying on the table and stormed from the room, banging the indignant portrait of the monk shut behind him and storming along the corridors. Before he knew it he was outside and halfway to Hogsmeade. He decided to get a drink at the Three Broomsticks and then go back and face the music. Hagrid had said he'd come by in the afternoon and stay with the twins, and he and Ron could go somewhere and hash this out once and for all.

0o0o0o0

"Come in Hagrid," Ron looked up from trying to clean Arthur's face, aware that his voice was less than cheerful. Harry hadn't come back for lunch, and the twins were unsettled. He was hoping to get the half-giant to baby-sit for him while he searched out his delinquent partner and kissed some major Boy-Who-Lived arse. It wasn't Harry's fault that the Death Eaters had almost found them and it certainly wasn't his fault that Ron's holiday plans were ruined. He just wanted some time with Harry to himself was all, surely it wasn't too much to ask.

"Haggy!" the chorus went up and the half-giant chuckled, picking up a child in each hand and examining them closely, asking what they were and turning them this way and that as if to examine them while the twins squealed and laughed and squirmed. The groundskeeper's movements were very gentle, even when he turned them upside down, and though Ron's mum had been very nervous the first time this had happened in front of her neither of the twins' parents were worried. If Hagrid could take care of a bow truckle with its brittle arms and legs, then the twins were in safe hands.

"Are they dangerous, Ron?" the question brought him back to the present and he smiled reluctantly.

"Only if they get hold of your wand," he replied, "Hagrid, can you stay? Harry and I had a row, and I need to go and apologise."

"He's in the Three Broomsticks," Hagrid said immediately, "Professor Flitwick saw him heading there. Best let him calm down Ron, from what Filius says there were thunderclouds tailing him."

Which meant that Harry had been angry enough for everyone to see. If Ron went down there now they'd just row again, and this time in public - which would excite a lot of curiosity and impertinent comment from the world at large, something that Harry hated. That didn't mean that Ron didn't want to go down there anyway - Harry was unlikely to get himself smashed in the middle of the day, but there had been Death Eaters after them only yesterday, and he was undefended. Of course, if Ron did show up and make the mistake of pointing that out Harry would most likely hex him. Their last row had shown that Harry thought Ron was upset with him - as if the Death Eaters following their family had been his fault, which was clearly not the case.

"Alright, I'll wait for him to come back," Ron sighed as Hagrid dropped a baby into each of his over large pockets. This caused shrieks of laughter and then happy squeals as they discovered the small rag dolls in the pocket with them that Hagrid had evidently planted for them to find.

"Dad!" Rosemary shouted and babbled happily.

"Yes, it's very pretty," Ron interpreted, "Say thank you to Uncle Hagrid."

"Tank oo!" the twins chorused obediently and Hagrid grinned fished them out of his pockets and put them on the floor to examine their newest toys. The half-giant had a knack for giving presents - usually some kind of stuffed animal or doll that neither parent could object to, though he'd had the sense not to present either twin with a toy spider. Ron had heard Harry quietly requesting the groundskeeper not to, explaining that Ron disliked the creatures.

"So, if yer don't mind me asking, wha' did you two fight about?" Hagrid asked quietly, and Ron sighed.

"Harry and I were supposed to go away together this week - just the two of us. We haven't had a minute alone together since he got pregnant, and now we can't. I was less than mature about it, and Harry thinks I'm blaming him," Ron reported honestly, "I just wanted to spend some time together without having any other responsibility for a while. I love our kids but its tough sharing him sometimes."

"Sounds like what every other new parent goes through, though they're usually a bit older than you two," there was quiet disapproval in Hagrid's voice, "If yer ask me, yer shoulda waited until you were older."

"We didn't create them on purpose, Hagrid," Ron sighed, "They're my love children."

It still felt weird to say this, though it was the term used in reference to children created by a combination of love and 'wish' magic. It had certainly been bandied about in the Daily Prophet quite a bit: 'Boy Who Lives bearing classmates Love Child' had been one of the less offensive headlines that periodical had run. Ron had been very angry and no one had dared to approach him on the matter at all, not even his dorm mates.

"I wasn't sure if the papers had it right," Hagrid said cautiously and Ron grinned at him.

"Maybe not the details, but some of the broader inferences were correct," he replied, "I gave Harry our children with love, not potions and rituals."

Hagrid beamed, his eyes becoming bright with unshed tears. He worried about Harry in his own gruff way, and both men had given up trying to figure him out. Harry had simply made sure that he'd done his best in anything Hagrid asked of him, and always let the half-giant know how special he was to the green eyed man.

"Oh Ron, you're a good lad," he breathed, "I always worried he wouldna find someone at love him right, and I didn't like to say anything earlier …"

"Its alright Hagrid," Ron smiled, "If you had I'd probably have stood on a chair and punched you. We got a lot of flack in the beginning…"

There was a strong shudder and dust floated from the ceiling, making Ron jump up in alarm and Hagrid almost knock his armchair over as he leapt for the portrait hole. Dobby popped into the room and Hagrid stumbled to avoid standing on the elf.

"The wards are breached!" the elf squeaked, even as the twins spotted him and headed over to have a look at this new short person, "Dobby has sealed the portrait! Wheezy and Harry Potter's kittens are to stay safe! Master Dumbledore says so!"

"Dobby, do you know who breached the wards?" Hagrid asked urgently even as Ron intercepted his children, scooping them up into his arms and holding tightly despite their squirms.

"Grey robes and white masks!" the elf wrung his hands, "Dobby has seen them before, with his old master!"

"Death Eaters," Ron spat, and something in his tone caught the twins' attention. They stopped squirming and clutched his shirt instead, eyes going big as they forgot about the novelty of the new short person.

"Ron," Hagrid hesitated and then held out his hands. The redhead nodded and then handed his children over, knowing that the half-giant had a measure of natural protection against the spells cast by his adversaries and would be able to run with the children in his arm better than Ron would. He would be able to at least defend them all with his wand. His eye fell on the trunks that Harry had left on the bookshelf and his heart skipped a beat.

"Dobby, do you know if those men are in Hogsmeade too?" he asked urgently.

"Dobby is unsure," the elf squeaked, and Ron bit down on the urge to swear. All he could do was pray that they weren't. Harry's wand rested on top of the tiny trunks.

0o0o0o0

Harry was just stepping out into the street when Death Eaters apparated all over the square. He'd had a sandwich and bowl of soup, accompanied by a butter beer and Madam Rosemarta's frankly curious company for lunch, and then decided to go back to the school before Ron came storming down here to drag him back.

All thoughts of that were blown out of his head as the hexes started flying and Harry threw himself to the ground, rolling desperately behind the flimsy bench that rested beside the door to the Three Broomsticks. He had a brief yet intense moment of thankfulness that Ron and the babies were safe at the school and threw up a hasty shield to block the stunner headed his way. He groped in his pockets for his wand, knowing that he had no real chance of duelling without it. The magic he performed around the house was something he considered to be a bit of a parlour trick, simple spells that made life a bit easier, certainly not something that would be useful in this situation. His wand was not in his pockets, and Harry's mind flashed back to dumping the contents of his pockets on the table in their new room - he'd dumped his wand as well, which meant that he was now reliant on his wandless magic.

His scar began to throb unpleasantly, heralding the arrival of Voldemort himself, and Harry grit his teeth, firing off what spells he could, surprised when the stunners and stinging hexes worked. The flimsy bench was taking a beating, crumbling a bit more with each spell that hit it, and he glanced around desperately, looking for better cover. The door behind him had locked itself the moment the attack started, a well-known security ward protecting the people inside. If he broke it to get in he was likely to be attacked by the pubs patrons and besides, breaking the ward would endanger them.

Time blurred, and the next clear thought Harry had was how much his hand and leg hurt, how loud the ringing in his ears was, and how badly Voldemort's robes needed a good scrubbing. Evidently being a Dark Lord didn't guarantee good laundry service and he giggled, a bit off his head as he cast a perfunctory cleaning charm on the most hated Wizard of his time.

A sharp spell slapped through his dazed body, bringing himself unpleasantly back to reality, finding his arms held by Pettigrew and Malfoy senior. They were the only things holding him upright, the pain from a shattered leg and spell-mangled hand threatening to carry him off entirely. He couldn't remember how it had happened, though there were one or two Death Eaters unmoving on the ground, and from the glares he was getting he'd put up more of a fight than they'd been expecting.

"Potter," the high pitched voice positively oozed loathing, "Where are your loyal friends now?"

"Safe," Harry spat blood from a torn lip onto the robes he'd just whimsically cleaned, "I wouldn't expect you to understand."

Voldemort laughed, a sound like nails down a black board, and Malfoy's hand trembled on Harry's arm at the sound of it, affording him with a moment of misplaced smugness. Even the Death Eaters served out of fear, nothing more.

"Are you sure?" the glee in that voice turned Harry's blood to ice and he turned his head, sighting almost drunkenly along the skeletal pointing finger in the direction of Hogwarts. In the direction of the Dark Mark hanging over the castle that had only this morning contained his children, his lover, his mentor and head of house and the first friend he'd ever made in this world.

Harry didn't remember coming to life in Malfoy and Pettigrew's rather perfunctory grip, screaming denial and hate at the cackling snake that walked like a man, lashing out blindly, writhing in an agony that had nothing to do with his body and everything to do with his soul. The ferocity of his response seemed to take even Voldemort by surprise, as he wrenched clear of Malfoy and Pettigrew, lunging with his hands outstretched, going for Voldemort's throat, blindly intent on only causing as much pain to the self declared Lord as he was currently feeling.

If Harry had been in his right mind he would have laughed at the look on Tom Riddle's face, and the haste with which he pulled out his wand, screaming the killing curse with unseemly panic. He would have noted the tension of the Death Eater standing nearest him, his hated Potions Master standing ready to assist, though there was nothing the man could do against the killing curse.

The foul green light engulfed Harry and he screamed in denial of it, refusing to allow it to carry him off until he had completed his lunge, his hands fastening around the cool and scaly neck of his opponent, the contact forging a link that not even Voldemort could deny.

Had Harry been acting on anything other than instinct he would have realised that his magic had finally completed the connection that it had first forged on the eve of his parents' murder, allowing him to consciously complete what the heart of a baby had wished for so vehemently all those years ago. His grief over the loss of his own babies, coupled with the never waning grief of the orphan warped the curse, in fact warped the space that he and Voldemort were occupying until to an observer it was apparent that they were engulfed in a sickly green orb, Harry's silhouette thrown sharply into relief while the Dark Lord cowered away from him, trying to break the grip of the hands tightening around his neck like bands of steel.

All Harry was aware of was his grief, his pain and his desire to at the very least take Voldemort with him. In the years to follow he would be unable to explain how he had controlled the curse, channelling it and his grief into the annihilation of the wizard trapped with him. Snape, as the only reliable witness to this act, was also unable to shed any light on how Harry finally managed to obliterate the man once known as Tom Riddle, though the Unspeakables and Dumbledore himself were convinced beyond all doubt that Riddles magic, and his soul, were completely destroyed.

The green glow faded, leaving Harry standing alone where the globe had been. Death Eaters began disapparating left right and centre, though Snape threw his mask off and hurried forward. He caught the Boy Who Lived as he fell, cradling him with unaccustomed tenderness. Harry's eyes opened and Snape was startled to see that the vivid green colour had faded to a barely there hue, as if Harry's eyes had been a part of the magic he had just performed.

A hasty scan with his wand showed Snape that Harry was sliding dangerously into shock. He was also suffering blood loss, though there was no external wound that Snape could see. The broken leg had not punctured the skin and the damage to his hand was all internal.

"Potter!" he snapped, "You mustn't give in!"

"Why not?" there was a dreamy tone to the words, "They're all dead. All gone. And he hated me."

The last four words made no sense, but Snape didn't care. He didn't dare shake Harry - as was his first instinct - because he was unsure what internal injuries he had to be sporting. There was a burst of song above their heads and Snape looked up with relief. The ridiculous songbird, son of the one the Headmaster pampered in his office had arrived.

"Sunshine," Harry slumped in Snape's arms, a final shudder running through the wrecked body.

0o0o0o0

Ron thought the waiting would send him mad. Dobby paced before the portrait, and Hagrid had rocked the twins to sleep and was standing by the fake window, looking at the fake view and trying not to fidget. They both jumped as another house elf popped into the room, and a moments thought identified her as Winky - the former elf of Barty Crouch.

"The danger is gone!" she squeaked and Ron shot a look at Hagrid before storming for the portrait. Dobby got it unlocked in time to avoid Ron walking through it, and they headed for the Entrance Hall. Dumbledore and McGonagall were there, wands in hand as they argued softly.

"Professor!" Ron's heart sank. If Dumbledore was here then Harry had been in the village below without protection, "Sir, what's going on?"

"Calm down, I beg of you," Dumbledore said gently, "Things are still a bit mixed, young Ronald."

"Sir…" Ron was ready to start hexing people to get answers, and McGonagall interrupted the Headmasters obviously carefully prepared speech.

"There is a Dark Mark over the castle, though there have been no deaths," she said plainly, "We are the only occupants of the school at this time. The Death Eaters were trying to breach the doors of the Entrance Hall, which as you can see remained sealed. As for the village, there appears to have been some sort of explosion, which took place twenty minutes ago."

"And we're sure they're gone?" Ron demanded, "I need to get to Harry!"

Fawkes erupted into the air above them, keening in a way that made Ron's hair stand up on the back of his neck and the twins still cradled in Hagrid's arms wake with fretful cries. The Headmaster whirled, a hand reaching out to his friend, and Fawkes let the man grasp his tail feathers. Ron leapt forward and grabbed the Headmaster, forcing Fawkes to take him too.

They materialised in a corner of a room in St Mungos. Three Healers stood opposite them, talking in hurried tones, staring at the bed in the centre of the small room. Snape stood at Ron's elbow, leaning against the wall in a very uncharacteristic posture. Fawkes fluttered to sit on the end of the bed, staring at the occupants keenly.

"Harry," Ron moaned, finally realising what he was seeing. Harry was lying there, pale as the sheets, with Sunshine on his chest. The Phoenix was crying piteously, though there were no tears. Whatever was wrong with Harry wasn't something that could be fixed by Phoenix tears. One leg was badly twisted and the nearest hand deformed by some injury, but the worst thing was Harry's complete stillness. Even in the deepest of sleeps Harry showed more animation than this.

"What's wrong with him? Why aren't they helping?" Ron whispered, not wanting to break the surreal hush that covered the room.

"He's burst his heart," Snape groaned, "He killed the Dark Lord in vengeance for the death of his lover and children, using the killing spell that Voldemort himself had cast. His body survived the spell, but his heart... He did not want to live without his beloved…"

"I'm not dead!" Ron's strident shout jolted the defeated man beside him and Ron rushed to the bed, calling his lovers name. Harry was cold to the touch, and his lips were slowly turning blue. There was a sheen to his skin that made it look waxen and Ron wept, knowing that his lover was dying, would die believing that Ron had been angry with him.

"Harry, please, it was just a stupid tiff. Please lover, come back! We're all safe, we want you here with us! Please, please, Harry. I know you can hear me, come back please… I'm sorry luv, I didn't mean it, don't go, please don't go … I love you…" Ron pressed his lips to Harry's cold forehead, rubbing the nearest arm as if to give it some warmth. Sunshine cried out in despair, and he looked at the Phoenix through tear-blurred eyes.

"He's going to be alright, Sunny," Ron whispered, "He just needs to rest a moment. We'll warm him up again… he's just caught a bit of a cold…"

"Ron," gentle hands gathered him to a white beard and surprisingly strong form. Ron made a wordless sound of protest, not wanting to let go just yet, because Harry liked cuddles and kisses, and they had to make up for all the ones they hadn't had today because of their misunderstanding. Fawkes launched himself from the end of Harry's bed and perched on one of the arms that held Ron so gently.

"No," Ron groaned, "We just have to warm him up… please…"

Sunshine twisted his head to look at Ron and then spread his wings as if to fly. Song burst from the Phoenix, a wild torrent of triumphant sound that not even Fawkes could have matched. The golden bird began to glow, with gentle warmth at first and then with ever increasing brightness until there was a terrible flash and the Phoenix burst into flame, immolating the bed and its occupant. Ron cried out in horror, staring in disbelief at the place where his lover had lain. The flames did not abate, though they slowly dispersed, leaving the bed and surroundings entirely untouched, shrinking along Harry's legs until he was once more visible, lying quietly with a pile of ash on his chest that slowly stirred as Sunshine's naked head emerged and he crowed softly for attention.

Harry's hand came up to cradle the baby bird in response, and Ron broke out of suddenly weakened arms, stumbling to his lover's side.

"Harry?" Ron begged and pale, pale eyes opened the usual green fire gone forever, faded to nearly white, leaving his eyes an eerie almost silver colour that never the less glowed with warmth when they met Ron's tear laden ones. The famous scar was also missing, banished in the purifying flame that had given him rebirth.

"Ron," the barely sighed name was more beautiful than the Phoenix song that Sunshine had treated them to moments before.

0o0o0o0

It was weeks before Harry had the strength to hold his children for a few wonderful moments, and months before he could get out of bed for just a short time. Taking his NEWTs was out of the question, and the one time he'd mentioned it Ron had become so distraught that Harry had given way gracefully to his lovers demands. Truth be told he'd lost all inclination to become an Auror and if he never took the tests it wouldn't matter. He had enough in his vault to support his family if they spent wisely, and Ron was more than determined to gain the marks he'd need to get a good job and support them all.

The Healers had never seen anything like what Sunshine had done for Harry, and nor had Dumbledore. There were a few tales, mostly dismissed as legends of the Phoenix that shed a dim light on what may have happened when Sunshine chose to burn Harry with his flame, but in the end it all came down to one simple thing. Love.

Harry loved Ron so much that he was able to bear his children, giving his lover the gift of life created by their union. He loved his children and partner so much that the mere suggestion of their death was enough for him to be able to over power a curse based on hate with his loving grief, turning it into something so pure that it destroyed all the Darkness before it. And it was his love of Sunshine, the respect and admiration he felt for the Phoenix and its parent that allowed Sunshine to regenerate Harry with his own loving act of self immolation.

The Daily Prophet had taken to calling him 'the Man Who Loved', and Ron had immediately perverted that to 'his little Love God'. If Harry had more energy when that little phrase was first bestowed upon him, he'd have done something to live up to Ron's new nickname for him, but at that time he was hard pressed to stay awake long enough to read the twins their naptime story.

Hermione had delayed her entrance into the Wizard University at Cambridge by a year. She moved into Grimmauld place with them while Ron was completing seventh year and commuting to and from the school on a daily basis. Dobby had resigned from his post at Hogwarts and moved into the house as well, still a free elf, but no longer receiving a wage. He'd refused money for his services and stated quite clearly that he wished to become the family elf. Hermione was grateful for his presence, because the twins were active little people, who needed quite a bit of supervision, and Harry was in no state to care for himself either.

Harry was still able to perform magic, though the Healers had demanded he give up his wand and insisted that he spent a year without performing any magic at all to avoid overstraining himself - a deadline that was just past. The Man Who Loved had been raised Muggle and was having his Muggle raised best friend watching over him, so the sudden ban on magic had been no trouble. Walking short distances left him breathless and shaking at first, though he was once again meditating and stretching his limbs in an attempt to regain some muscle tone. It had been very hard to go from an active young man to what Harry termed an 'old crock', though Ron had been moved nearly to tears when he'd used the term. Things were much better now, despite that fact that of late he'd been having some troubles.

Thus it was a surprise to Ron to look down at the sea of parents and schoolmates who had come to the Graduation feast and see his lover sitting in Remus Lupin's arms. The werewolf spent as much time with the family as he could, which had been a comfort to the redhead. Harry knew he'd been worried that he wouldn't let Hermione help him with some of the more intimate details of day-to-day life. As much as he loved her there was no way Harry was letting her into the bathroom or toilet when he was in there.

Harry couldn't help but beam at his lover and sister-in-law. Ginny was beside her brother of course, and their parents were sitting just beyond Remus, who was bracing him on the bench most solidly. Harry had cheated tonight and taken several strengthening potions brewed especially for him by Snape, but there was no way he would miss the first Hogwarts graduation for his family. He and Ron would be back to witness their children's rite of passage, but tonight was about his partner and how proud he was of him. Harry blessed every lucky fate and coincidence that had led to Ron sharing his carriage on the train in first year, and the friendship and love that had grown from it.

Harry felt a slight wave of dizziness overcome him and leaned into Remus for a long moment. The werewolf tightened his grip sympathetically and hummed the same lullaby he used on his niece and nephew to distract the green eyed teen. Harry knew that the Healers had been waiting for some sort of sign from him that his magic was once more ready to perform at its peak levels, though he suspected they were waiting for something a little more mundane like a short burst of wand less magic.

The conception of their next child was a more flamboyant sign than Harry had anticipated, but the dizzy spells and nausea could only mean one thing, and his midwife Alice had confirmed his suspicions only this afternoon. He'd tell Ron tonight, in fact he couldn't wait to see his best friend's expression. Their life was going to be different from what they had first imagined together, but Harry couldn't think of anything more satisfactory than living in a house full of love in a world that was at peace.

End.