1. The summer between 5th and 6th year Ron and Ginny are alone in the house when he hears he crying. It's not her usual girly crying, like when she ripped her favorite dress beyond Mom's ability to repair.

These are soul deep sobs.

He lets himself into her room and sits next to her on the bed.

"Are you ok?" He asks. She just sobs harder.

"C'mon, it can't be that bad. Did Dean break up with you? Want me to beat him up for you?" Ron wishes almost any of the rest of the family was here instead, he's never been good at comfort.

He puts his arm around Ginny's shoulders.

"C'mon, tell Ron about it."

She takes a deep breath and wails "I was pregnant!"

"Wha..?" he asks stunned.

It takes him a moment to wrap his mind around the idea of his little sister being pregnant. Just as he's about to congratulate her the important part of the sentence hits him.

Was.

Ginny was pregnant.

Miscarraige.

"Oh Ginny" He wraps his other arm around her and lets her cry into his shirt.

She doesn't ask him to promise not to but he never tells another soul.

2. Privately, Ron sometimes wonders if he fell in love with Hermione for her own sake or because she is the only girl he's ever felt even remotely comfortable around. Including his mother and sister.

3. He bought the engagement ring the Hogsmead weekend before Dumbledore died. He planned to ask Hermione to marry him when they defeated Voldemort.

He buries it with Fred and gets her a new one that isn't so tainted by bad memories.

4. He's jealous of the closeness between Bill and Charlie and Fred and George. Percy was a stuck up jerk and Ginny would rather do things with her girl friends than hang out with him.

It hurts that in a family as big as theirs there is no one he feels comfortable enough to talk to about anything important.

It hurts less when he meets Harry and Hermione.

5. Sometimes he wakes up in a panic, certain that his children are dead or missing. He can't go back to bed until he checks on them and strengthens the wards.

He tries to remember that they are safe now, that all the deatheaters are dead or in prison (Except Malfoy he thinks as his lip curls into a sneer) but the paranoia of their time on the run is hard to forget, even after ten years.

He flushes the toilet in case Hermione woke up while he was out of bed. It's a better excuse than overprotective paranoia

Besides her mother’s face, all Ashley knows is bloodlust. Rage. Hurt and longing. She lives in a constant daze and the only thing holding her down is her father. In her more lucid moments, she realizes that if someone had told her a year ago that she’d end up a killing machine whose only impulse control came in the form of Jack the Ripper, she would have laughed them right out of the room.

Now things are different.

Now she wants to go home more than anything in the world. Now she wants her mother to hold her and tell her things will turn out all right in the end. Now this is all she wants and she wants it now – and nothing is holding her back. She can teleport. She hasn’t, not since she hit the EM shield and it flung her halfway around the world, but she could. She could be back there today.

But every time she thinks she’ll actually try, her father holds her down. Not out of malice, but out of love. They cannot go back to Helen like this; her a starving vampire driven nearly to insanity by savage rage and him possessed by a similar desire to kill, a desire that is no more his fault than her thirst for blood is her fault.

That doesn’t stop her from crying out in agony as she claws at the ground, thinking of her mother and a home she misses terribly – no, thinking of the kill, the warm, damp scent of human blood, the –

“Wait,” he tells her. “We must wait.”

All I can think of when I read this prompt is Gabriel walking up to Michael and Lucifer and saying 'catch!', tossing the egg at them (gently) and then running for his life.

“This is all your fault,” he hissed, pressing her up against the wall, feeling her jean-clad legs come up around his waist to support her weight. Max rolled her eyes, already tired of this argument, the familiar rush of anger surging up through her.

“You gonna stand there and bitch all night, or are you gonna make this look good?” she taunted, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, fingers twisting in his hair to the point of pain as she forced him to look at her, her gaze a challenge. She felt a surge of satisfaction rumble through her as Alec's eyes darkened, watching the anger ignite like a powderkeg in their depths.

He yanked her down against him, hard, enough to bruise even a transgenic, and she bit down a curse as the shock of it vibrated through her, hands scrabbling down his back, clawing for purchase. His cock lay between them, hard and heavy, right where she wanted it, and if this was anyone else she'd almost be tempted to carry this through. As it was it just made her even more pissed off, that he could find some enjoyment in this when she felt like she was going to scratch his eyes out any second.

“Real mature, Alec,” she grumbled, her hands reaching down to slide underneath his sweater, running gently over the skin of his back until they reached his shoulders. He'd frozen, staring down at her in confusion at the touch – they didn't do gentle, that wasn't who they were – and she gave him a tender grin, before setting the points of her nails in his skin and yanking down, hard enough to draw blood. His whole body jumped, pressing against her as he tried to get away from the claws in his back, muscles in his face tightening as he tried to keep from screaming and only mostly succeeded, and oh, was he going to make her pay for that one.

She was right. Before she knew what was happening he had dropped her, spinning her around and forcing her up against the brick, her fingers clenched tight into fists against the wall and his body behind her, all hard planes and muscle, keeping her pressed in place as he stroked his hand over her stomach, and if he thought she was going to just stand here and take this he was dead wrong. Max reached down, found the pressure point on his wrist and twisted, hearing Alec's curses in her ear as his hand went numb. She grinned at him over her shoulder, enjoying the way that Alec's eyes were glued to their bodies, the little gasp he gave as she molded his hand over her breast, a hot and heavy weight that he couldn't even feel.

“You're sick, you know that Max?” he asked, but his voice was shaking, and she smiled, feeling victory within her grasp. In one swift movement she twisted herself around, hands going to his shoulders as she rolled them, his back to the wall and her body pressing in against his own.

“You want this to stop, all you gotta do is say the words,” she offered, her voice promising sweetness and light even while her thigh pressed up in between his legs, rubbing up against his cock through his jeans. She was aware, vaguely, that Logan had left, that this meant she should probably be pulling back now, mission accomplished, but she just couldn't bring herself to care, all her senses straining towards the man in front of her as she waited for his response.

Alec's eyes were dark with lust, teeth bared, looking almost feral in the moonlight, and she felt a thrill rush through her even before he answered.

“You first.”