Unofficial Portkey Archive

Title: All Roads Lead Back

Keywords: Hermione, Harry, Ron, Ginny, Draco and the rest of the gang. H/Hr, but a whole lot of ships thrown in as well. Post-HBP

Summary: Harry Potter always figured that once he had fulfilled his destiny he could finally have a happy, normal life. Unfortunately for him he fell in love with his best friend...and everything went straight to hell. Set 7 years after the final battle.

Spoilers: All six books.

A/N: I am a Harmony shipper thru and thru. HBP almost sent me into a fit until I realized that I was throwing a tizzy over a book and told myself to get over it. Hee. I then decided to throw my hat in the fanfiction ring and see if I could come up with a realistic (at least to me) story of my favorite couple getting together that adheres to canon. This is my first attempt at writing a fanfic. I have the whole story already plotted out, but would appreciate it if you would tell me if writing the rest is worth it or not.

Once again I take liberties with the horcruxes and the Founders. I hope not too much though.

Just so we are all perfectly clear: YES this is a H/Hr story. NO it does not feature exclusively H/Hr. YES the story is told thru several perspectives, but the focus is always H/Hr. If this does not interest you, please...I beg of you... for the love of God, Buddha, Allah, or whoever DO NOT read this story. You are not going to be happy with it or me. If you want H/Hr together like today....DO NOT read this story! You are soooo not going to be happy with me. He's married people! I know it's my own obstacle I've set-up, but you've got to give me some time to get pass the obstacle. I'm not saying this to be cranky, trust me I appreciate all of the reviews and advice. But I feel that some of y'all are becoming increasingly frustrated with me. And I hate that I might be stressing you. Cause then I get stressed. And when I get stressed my hair falls out. In clumps! And I like my hair. So please, be patient with me if only for my hair's sake.

THANKYOU! *curtsies*

As always thank you for the reviews. You guys are awesome and give me the impetus to complete this story.

Warning: Sit back, relax, (cause it's another one of my marathon chapters) and enjoy the implosion of the Heron! I know this isn't actually what you want, but some of you were curious how they went belly up. And just so you know H&Hr figure into this chapter prominently.

Disclaimer: If it looks like it's JKR's, well, that's because it is. She's provided me with the canvas and I'm truly enjoying painting on it.

He couldn't see her face. The woman standing a good few paces in front of him, that is. He had been riding on this thing for hours and yet not once did she turn around so he could see her face. He was in a building made of glass. The ceiling was made of it and glass surrounded him on both sides. He was riding on a moving staircase. That too seemed to be made of glass. The contraption was heading in a downward direction, yet there seemed to be no end to it. He just kept riding. Down, down, down. She kept riding. Down, down, down. But she wouldn't show him her face. All he could see was glossy hair, not too short, not too long, and the back of her shimmering white cloak. It seemed to sparkle of it's own volition and for the life of him Ron could not tell what would make it do so. He knew of no fabric, not even in the wizarding world, with that kind of luster. In fact even her hair seemed to be made of the same gleaming material. He momentarily rubbed at his own eyes to see if they were playing a trick on him. But no, the woman before him still glittered.

"Hey," he said trying to get her attention. "Do you know where we are?"

She paid him no heed. Just kept riding the glass escalator. Down, down, down. Down, down, down.

"Hey! I'm talking to you!"

Down, down, down. Down, down, down.

"Hey!"

He had had about enough of this!

"Why won't you say something?!!"

Down, down, down. Down, down, down.

"Just look at me!"

She still said nothing.

All of a sudden he felt his feet moving. He would make her speak! He would see her face!

He climbed down the endless moving staircase, determined to reach his goal. But the closer he should have gotten the further away she would seem, although she made no move to get away from him. Surely she could hear his panting breath right?

Eventually he came upon her. She was luminous! Her back was still turned to him and he was certain he could count every single shining strand on her head. But that was unimportant now. He just wanted to see her face.

He placed his right hand on her left shoulder. She didn't even stir. As he gently tugged at her to turn her round to face him he was giddy with excitement. He was going to see her face! Finally! It was going to happen. Almost there. Almost. And then she was facing him. And then she was purring.

Purring?

Ron opened his eyes to see a squashed ginger face with whiskers pressed against his own.

"Bloody hell!"

In his excitement from being startled awake he fell off the side of the bed. This action produced a peal of bubbly giggles from the other side of the bed.

"Do it again daddy! Do it again!"

Ron sat up on his haunches from the floor and looked across the bed. Violet was standing on the other side, still dressed in her white cotton night shift with her strawberry blonde hair mussed about her head. On top of the bed sat the bottlebrush tailed daemon of his despair.

Two days before after he, Lavender, and Violet left the Ministry Ron had decided to get his newly adopted daughter a present. They had just come from filing the papers and as of that moment he was legally the child's father. To mark the occasion he had decided to buy his daughter whatever her little heart desired. Lavender thought it was a marvelous idea. Ron asked Violet what she wanted and the little girl told him that she would like a bunny.

Lavender had made a hair appointment that she was already running late for so she left them in Diagon Alley to their pursuit of a fluffy bunny rabbit. He and his daughter then made their way to the Magical Menagerie to pick out her new pet.

The place was cramped and crowded by dozens of cages. The sounds of hissing, chirping, and scratching rang in the air. The air reeked of a dozen different varieties of animals. He could see sleek black ravens and furry puffskeins. In the corner near the door he saw a bat hanging upside down from a perch. The shop was filled with all manners of creatures, but Ron had yet to see the shop's owner. That is until the witch came running from the back of the store chasing after a furry orange creature that was low on the floor. The animal bounded right up to him and Vi and leaped into the child's arms. The little girl briefly stepped back to accommodate the weight of the fat cat. It was only when Ron really looked at it that he realized that he knew this cat. He knew it very well.

"No way," he exclaimed, eyes wide.

"I'm so sorry," the clerk said relieving the cat from Vi's arms, before looking up at him and starting in shock. "Oh my! Your Ron Weasley aren't you?"

Ron, who was still staring at the cat in the woman's arms, was so preoccupied that he barely heard her question. "Um, yeah. I am," he merely said.

"Gracious me! I love the Wasps! My husband, our boys...my whole family are some of your biggest fans!"

"Is that right," Ron absentmindedly said.

"We've followed you ever since your first game with the Cannons. In fact we already have our tickets for the finals."

"Great, great. Say, that cat you're holding, is it by any chance," he paused, half hoping that he was wrong in his guess, "half kneazle?"

She looked at him, shocked for a moment, before answering that it was.

"Half dementor too, I'm almost inclined to believe. He's always upsetting the other pets," she said as she sat the cat down on the floor. Instead of prowling away he simply sat on the ground in front of him and Vi and stared at them both appraisingly, tail swishing back and forth.

"You see, I sold him some years ago. This little girl actually thought he was cute. Can you believe that?" She gave Ron a charming smile, but Ron could only manage a grimace in return.

"She must have cast him off though because about two years ago the beast wandered back into here. But enough of that, what can I do for you Mr. Weasley?"

Ron drug his eyes away from the cat to stare back at the witch. "Um...well, my daughter here would like to get a pet. A bunny if you have one."

"Oh yes I do! Dozens. I even have one that can turn it's self in to a top hat," she replied.

Ron was just about to ask to see them when he felt a tug at his robe. He looked down to see Vi staring beseechingly at him. She motioned for him to stoop down so he got on his knees beside her. She whispered something in his ears. His eyes widened at her request.

"No," he pleaded with her, jumping up. Her big cornflower blue eyes watered.

"Didn't you say you wanted a bunny rabbit?" A single solitary tear rolled down her plump cheek.

"How bout a bird? They have ravens. Or...or a rat. Dad had a rat once." Ron then thought better of the suggestion. "Better yet, scratch the rat. How's a nice newt sound," he begged. Her jaw tightened and she stamped her foot stubbornly. She kind of reminded him of Ginny at that age.

"Are you sure?" She nodded her head up and down.

"Very well then," he said turning to the store owner. "We'll take the cat." He lamely pointed at the creature.

At his words the orange furball leaped up into Vi's opened arms.

"Excellent," the witch cried. "If you'll just follow me we can start the sale."

He did so reluctantly.

"You won't regret your purchase," she said, stepping behind the counter. "He will even keep your family safe from anyone trying to harm them."

Her tune certainly changed from a moment before when she was ready to hex the beast. Ron supposed it was because she was just too happy to get rid of the cat and didn't want him to change his mind. As if he could. Violet was currently laughing by the door as the cat licked at her face affectionately.

After Ron payed the witch he, Vi, and her new pet were almost out the door before the woman called him back.

"By the way, his name is Crookshanks," she said.

Ron sighed dismally. "Yeah, I know."

If Lavender recognized Crookshanks she didn't let on. He was praying that she didn't. The squashed face cat acted as though Lavender wasn't even good enough to change his kitty litter. Ron figured he knew why. It would seem that whatever grudge his former mistress had for Lav, Crookshanks still carried. Lavender didn't seem to mind. She didn't care for the mangy animal, but if her child liked the ugly thing so be it. She only reminded Ron that her mother was allergic to cats and terrified of kneazles. Where were they going to keep him till the wedding? Ron told her that he would look after the cat at his place till they moved into their own home. Violet however was not happy with this plan. Where her Kwooksie (the four year old had a hard time pronouncing certain names and words) stayed she stayed. So that night and the night after Violet Weasley slept between her two parents.

"Are you gonna do it again daddy?"

Ron slowly raised himself from the floor, every muscle of his silently aching. Talbot had been relentless the day before in practice.

"Sorry Pumpkin, only one floor show per day. But be sure you tell your friends," he jested.

"Kwooksie, daddy is silly," the little girl conspiratorially told the cat. Crookshanks meowed in agreement.

Ron stretched his aching sore body and for a moment wondered where Lavender was. Then he remembered that Lavender had left at the crack of dawn to go to the Burrow to see how the party set-up was coming along. More like direct the party set-up, Ron thought. Mum is going to be thrilled!

As if reading his thoughts Violet asked, "Where's mummy?"

"Oh she went over to your Grandma Molly's to see about the decorations for today. You didn't forget what today is did you?"

He moved over to sit on the bed in front of her. Crookshanks leaped off the spread and into her arms. Violet looked up at Ron with curiosity filled eyes.

"Today is a big day," he told her. "We're having a party!"

"For me," she asked excitedly.

Anytime they had a big gathering at the Burrow for one of the kiddies, and that was quite often when considering the Weasley clan, Violet always thought that they were all gathered there to celebrate her birthday. Just a few weeks ago she had thrown a huge tantrum when Lish Weasley blew out the candles of what Violet assumed was her cake. Violet had even gone so far as to pull on the 5 year old's long dark plait to show her disapproval with the whole matter. When Violet ended up wearing the remains of what had been a very pretty unicorn cake in her hair, Lavender had been cross. It wasn't until Fred and George danced a festive jig on the ceiling to celebrate Felicity's first outburst of accidental magic that Lavender became furious. The commemorative firework display also didn't help. Damn Forge and Gred! Violet however didn't seem too fussed over the matter. Ron just assumed she thought the exhibition was for her as well.

"No sweetheart. Not this time," he solemnly told her, then brightened. "But it is for your mum and me. It's to celebrate that we're getting married. We're going to be husband and wife. Doesn't that sound grand?"

"Does that mean we get to live togedder? Like Wosie's mummy and daddy?"

"Just like Wosie's mummy and daddy," he answered.

"You hear that Kwooksie," she asked the cat. He only licked at his paw.

"Hungry love?"

"No. I made cereal and Kwooksie had milk."

"Did Uncle George fix it for you?"

She scowled at him cutely. "I'm a big girl. I did it."

"Course you are Pumpkin. Now let's see if you left anything for dear old dad."

~~**~~~~**~~~~**~~~~**~~

Twenty minutes, and a cleaned kitchen later, Ron was settled at his table munching on a plate of toast and jam he was sharing with Violet. They both had orange juice before them, though his was in a large tumbler and hers was in a sippy cup. Crookshanks sat in her lap. Ron was trying to explain to her why the cat couldn't come to the Burrow with them.

"Dad can only apparate one person along with him hon, you know that. And you're mum says that you are still too young to go up on my broom." Ron didn't even mention floo'ing. The child was far too young and with her speech impediment could end up Merlin knows where. "Kwooksie will just have to stay here sweetheart."

Violet's face grew stormy for a moment and Ron feared that she would go into another one of her tear-fests, but instead she just shook her head, took a sip from her cup, and tried to force a bit of toast into Crookshanks mouth. Violet was used to getting her way, but she knew when she was beat.

"Daddy guess what?"

"What," he good-naturedly asked.

"Uncle George knows Kwooksie!"

"Does he now," he said evenly. He wondered what big mouth George could have told Vi about Crookshanks.

"He said he used to know the lil' gwirl who bewonged to him before me."

Blast George!

"He said you knew her too."

Double blast him!

Ron took a swig of his juice before answering her. "Well besides having a big mouth your Uncle George was telling the truth," he said. "Your mum and I knew that little girl quite well."

He prayed that she would leave it at that.

"Why come she don't come to my bwirfday then?"

He should have known better that Violet wouldn't stop asking questions till she was perfectly satisfied. She was a highly inquisitive little girl.

"Well, Violet...um...that little girl left home a long time ago."

It was an uncomfortable subject they were on. He especially didn't want to say anything that she would repeat in front of Lavender later.

"Why come?"

"I'm...I'm not so sure Pumpkin."

"She didn't like you no more?"

He coughed. "No Pumpkin, she liked me just fine. She was my best friend. Mines and you're uncle Harry's."

Violet furrowed her tiny brow as though she were trying to suss out this troubling puzzle. "Is she ever coming back," she asked

Ron paused, unsure of what to say.

"I-I don't think so Pumpkin."

"Ok," she simply said. "But if she ever comes back she can pway with Kwooksie. I'll let her. Leo doesn't share, but I do."

She then jumped down from her chair and padded out of the room on her bare little feet. Crookshanks followed after her.

As he watched his child walk out of the room a hard lump formed at the back of Ron's throat. This was nothing new. Whenever he thought of the prospect that he was getting married but Hermione wouldn't be there to congratulate him he could barely stave off the depression that would descend upon him. Now was one of these times. Sure they had had there differences, but that didn't mean that they stopped loving each other. Harry was going to be standing up for him, but somehow it seemed wrong that Hermione wouldn't be there, right by his side as well. The Trio reunited! Like in the good old days. But no one had heard a peep from Hermione in years.

"This is what she does son," Arthur Weasley had told him one day inside his Ministry office. Hermione had been missing officially for more then a year by then.

"Do you know how many wizards and witches she helped successfully assimilate into the muggle world under me? 30! She knows just the right documentation to get them, the precise coaching that they need. If anyone knew how to disappear from wizards it would be that young lady."

Ron gave his father a frustrated glare."What about that lead you had a few months ago. Her wand was used somewhere in the States...what was it...Atlantis, I think Percy said."

"Atlanta."

"Did you even follow up on that," Ron wearily asked. He could tell that his father was becoming slowly irritated by him. For all he knew Harry had probably had this same conversation with him as well.

"Of course we did! But the American Ministry was not able to find a trace of her. For all we know her wand could have fallen into someone else's hands."

This did not make Ron feel any better. Arthur, seeing his son's distressed face decided to change tactics.

"Son, I'm sure that Hermione will come home eventually. But when she does do you think she will be happy to hear that you stopped living your life because of her. Harry too?"

"What are you on about?"

"Son, you are barely eating. Your mum is worried sick over the fact. One of these days a quaffle is going to go straight thru you. Then how will the Cannons get to the Championship," quipped his dad. Ron was not amused however.

"And Harry..."

"What about Harry?"

"Well one can't help but notice that his game is...off," his father said diplomatically. "And he is constantly checking in here to see if there are any updates. I even hear he has been skulking around the Auror office."

"Well, yeah! She was his best friend too if you remember."

"Of course I do. But Ginny..."

"Ginny! Figures," Ron said disgustedly. "She been complaining again eh? Gone to good old dad so she can get her way?"

"And what if she has? She's the man's wife is she not? They are still newlyweds for Merlin's sake," Arthur said agitatedly.

"But Harry has been so wound up over this Hermione thing that little Ginny is feeling neglected. And who could blame her?"

"And what are we supposed to do dad? Forget she even existed? Cor! I thought you cared about her too."

Arthur's eyes burned with furious indignation at that remark.

"I do care," he bellowed. "I loved that girl as though she were one of my own. Every morning I walk into that kitchen praying that the hand on your mum's clock hasn't moved to...to..."

Arthur paused to collect himself.

"But there is nothing that you, or I, or Harry can do about that," he continued. "Unless Hermione Granger wants to be found she won't be found."

Ron had to fight back the tears that wanted to stream down his face. He knew that his father was telling him this only to help him.

"You know I'm right Ronnie." Ron could only nod his head.

"And if you could, try to convince Harry as well." Ron nodded his head again.

"He and Ginny will be at the house tonight for dinner. And Ginny has invited that charming friend of hers, Linus' daughter. Why don't you stop by as well."

Ron's train of thought was interrupted when a tiny owl flew thru the kitchen window and landed inelegantly in Ron's juice.

"Pig!"

The wee owl jumped out of the tumbler and landed lightly on the table, shaking himself clean. Ron spied the parchment tied to his leg and claimed it. The owl then happily flew off to his bird cage after carrying a much too large for him slice of toast along for the ride.

The note was from Lavender. "Ron," he read Lavender's tight crimped scrawl, "DON'T BE LATE! Wash up Violet, dress her in those peach robes that match with mine. DON'T BE LATE! Please hurry. Your mum and my mum are going to kill each other. DON'T BE LATE!"

He chuckled at Lavender's tense handwriting. She must be ready to tear her hair out, he thought. Well I'll take care of the midget good and proper, he decided.

He called Violet into the bathroom to take a bath. Violet loved bath time because she got to splash the water. She also loved trying to get Ron soaked whenever he washed her up, just as she did now when he got her in the tub of warm, soapy water. He knelt by the tub and sponged her off as the chirpy little girl sang some song she had heard. She had gotten her singing voice from her mother apparently.

"Daddy are you happy," Vi asked as he began to rinse her off.

"Blissfully," he answered with a big smile.

"Is that cause you are getting some?"

Ron dropped the loofah he had been holding into the tub and stared at his daughter in shock.

"What...how...where did you hear that phrase from," he inquired of her, alarmed.

"Mummy."

"Your mum said that too you," he asked, clearly stupefied.

"Uh, uh," she said shaking her little blonde head. "She said it to Miss Ewolise. She came for tea and to show mummy her new baby Apple yesterday. She asked mummy why Auntie Ginny was so cross lately and mummy said it was probabwy cause she wasn't getting some. Some of what daddy?"

"Fizzing Whizbees," he lied as he wrapped a towel around her and lifted her from the tub. "Your Aunt Ginny loves the things."

Violet was satisfied with the answer because all she said was, "Oh, me too!"

As he toweled her dry he said, "You know you really shouldn't repeat the things that your mum says."

"Why come?"

"It's not nice."

Once again all she said was, "Oh."

Once he got Violet cleaned up, dressed, and brushed her hair he left her in his bedroom so he could take a shower. As he was washing off his mind wandered time and time again to what Violet overheard.

He knew that his best friend and his sister were having some...issues, to put it kindly. He and Lav had discussed it a couple of times. But he didn't think things were too serious. At least he hoped they weren't. Neither of them had ever mentioned anything to him about it. For Ginny that was common, she usually kept things close to the vest unless she wanted you to know it. But he and Harry were usually very open with one another. At least he thought they were. But obviously something deeper was happening here.

He knew that the Potters no longer slept in the same bed. Harry had accidentally let that slip one day at lunch. He explained it away by saying that Ginny had finally gotten tired of his snoring and that was the reason for the move. But Ron knew that Harry didn't snore. Seven years of sharing a bedroom, sometimes even sharing a bed, will gift you with that kind of knowledge about someone. He might thrash around from time to time, but he didn't snore. Ron didn't point this fact out to Harry then because he figured that when the time was right Harry would come to him with what was going on. He never did though.

Ron pondered if maybe he should take a more proactive approach and just confront Harry about it. Maybe he could help his best friend and sister with their marital problems. Maybe, when he saw him later at the Burrow, Ron could take his dark haired friend aside and offer his advise. But then Ron wondered if any of their family or friends had spoken bluntly to him or Hermione way back when would that have done any good either. Would it have helped any? Would they still be together? Would that have been a good thing?

Back in the good old days, back when they first got together, the two Gryffindors seemed to fit perfectly. It was so easy to love Hermione. He thought she was perfect, minus the nagging and the disinterest in Quidditch. She treated him like there was no one else in the world she would rather be with...most times. Then things changed. By time they finally ended things they were desperate to preserve their friendship.

If he had to identify when things shifted in their relationship he would always look towards the night that the golden Hufflepuff cup entered their lives. They had just moved into Hermione's after leaving Godric's Hollow. Harry had finally become of age and Remus sent word that the Order of the Phoenix was ready to induct three new members. Of course Ron and Hermione could have long since joined up, but Remus somehow sensed that this was a step that the Trio was unwilling to take unless they did so together.

The ceremony, if one could call it that, took place right in the middle of the Granger's foyer. They had no time for grand displays, there was work to be done. Muggle and wizards alike were being terrorized at an alarming rate. The papers were putting out death notices everyday. Azkaban had been broken into a few days before and all the prisoners were let out. The human guards had puncture wounds to the neck and were all dead. The Prophet screamed vampire attack. The whole thing had You-Know-Who's fingerprints all over it. It was common knowledge that most of the vampires were in league with Voldemort now. So were the dementors, most of the giants, a number of trolls, a handful of werewolves, and a banshee or two. It was enough to almost make Ron loose his appetite.

Ron and Hermione had had a small (at least in his opinion) tiff over something before leaving the Hollow so she wasn't speaking to him the first few days at the new hide out. Then one day, while Harry was off working on his non-verbal spell abilities with Remus, Hermione came to bury the hatchet. Now was not the time to be holding grudges, she told him. Then she kissed him. He might as well have been goo, he melted. That night she even let him sleep in her bed. Only sleep. When Ron woke up, late as was his way, he found the world a changed place and discovered a Malfoy in the shower as he was trying to take his morning piss. The toe-rag didn't even have the decency to turn his head when he saw Ron doing his business either. Ron hated to have an audience for those sorts of things!

Apparently Malfoy had willingly brought them Helga Hufflepuff's cup. Because Ron had slept most of the morning in he had missed the git's interrogation. The gist, as Hermione explained to him over a bowl of cereal, was that Malfoy had come across the cup thru nefarious circumstances. He was now turning it over to them to save his own arse since Malfoy Sr. was deader then a door nail. Before Ron could get any further details the regular Order Meeting was called.

In total there were about 25 full fledged members of the Order of the Phoenix. All of his immediate family, except for Ginny and Percy, were now members. Shacklebot had brought in a few more of his Auror comrades. A couple of their Hogwarts professors had joined. In addition, Madame Maxime and Viktor Krum (much to Ron's chagrin) were working with them as well. That day's meeting were just a small group of 9 however. They discussed the conversation that Remus, Charlie, and Kingsley had with Aberforth Dumbledore the night before. It was just sketchy information at best. The Death Eaters were looking to steal something called a boadicea, but apparently were having a devil of a time finding it. No on knew what the hell it was.

After the meeting was over the three best friends retreated up to Hermione's room. Malfoy was tucked away in one of the guest rooms. As they filed in Ron threw himself across her pink canopy bed, Harry sat on the floor next to it, and Hermione seated herself at her computer desk which was near the door. Hufflepuff's cup sat on the desk beside the machine.

"So what do we think this boadicea thing is?" Ron asked the question that was on the mind of everyone in the room.

Harry ran his hand thru his tousled black hair."Don't know. Maybe it belonged to one of the Founders?"

"There is no way. I've read every book I could get my hands on about the Founders. That name was mentioned no where in them."

Hermione, who had been typing something turned around in her swivel chair to face them.

Harry looked at Hermione astounded. "Name?"

"I think so," Hermione said."I know I've seen it...somewhere. I just can't recall."

"Did you try looking at that internets thinga-ma-jig," Ron asked trying to sound helpful.

She and Harry just looked at each other and shared a smile. Ron hated it when they did that. Ha, ha! Let's make fun of the bloke who can't use the fellytone properly.

"The only hits I've gotten was for some ancient warrior queen. Back when Rome still tried to control the British Isles she led a conglomerate of tribes in a revolt against Nero. It's very interesting actually. You see..."

"Hermione," Harry cut off her babbling, "does any of this have anything to do with horcruxes," Harry asked. Hermione had a tendency to babble on and on about things she found interesting but others didn't.

She blushed a rosie embarrassed pink. "Sorry." She turned back to her computer. "Oh this is interesting."

"What," asked Ron.

"Well according to legend her body is buried where King's Cross Station is now. Under platform 10. There's a connection to Hogwarts."

"Yes, but not to the Founders. Riddle would want something that belonged to one of them," Harry said pushing his glasses up on his nose from where they slipped down. "If you didn't find that name in any of the books you read that means she isn't linked to them..."

"Which means she isn't linked to him," she finished.

"Maybe she's a Mudblood."

The three teens in the room turned to the direction of the doorway where the voice had come from. Malfoy was standing there, looking smug as ever. He was dressed in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt that Ron recognized as Harry's. Ron noted that the blond looked tons better then he did when Ron first saw him in the morning, right after he got over the initial shock of seeing the uppity Slytherin in such casual muggle gear.

"Granger should know her. Don't all you people congregate somewhere or something."

"Let's just cut this short Malfoy, shall we," Hermione asked in a bored tone. "Just call me a dirty muggle so I can call you an inbred idiot and we'll both be done with it."

"You're nothing but trash on my boot."

Ron had Malfoy in a choke hold, slammed against the bedroom door before the wanker could even finish the sentence. Harry had gotten to his feet as well.

"Ronnie, no," Hermione pleaded.

Ron instantly let him go and sat down on the bed.

Malfoy was winded, but he wasn't down yet.

"My, my, my. I see that the Queen of Mudbloods and King Weasel have finally gotten together. Then again you're so poor," he looked at Ron, "and you're so...shoddy," he said turning to Hermione, "who else would have you?"

Hermione feigned a yawn.

"Goodness Malfoy, if I didn't know better I would think you were jealous."

Ron looked quickly at Hermione. Jealous? Why would Malfoy be jealous of them?

"I wonder why that is?"

Ron didn't understand what was going on, but Hermione's little cat with a canary grin and Malfoy's look of controlled fury told him that there was something that he was missing. One look at Harry told him that he was just as bothered by all of this.

"See here you slag...."

Harry moved so quick that Ron barely saw it happening. Harry grabbed Malfoy by his shirt collar and flung him towards that other side of the room. Malfoy hit the wall with a loud bang before sliding down the wall in a heap. Hermione quickly pulled out her wand and murmured "imperturbatus".

Harry looked down at Malfoy as he stood over him menacingly. His outside demeanor seemed cool and calm, but Ron could tell that Harry was ready to tear the prat to shreds. Obviously Malfoy could too, the way he looked up at the dark haired boy in fear.

"The cup, ferret. What do you know?"

Ron crawled over the bed to sit closer to the action.

"I took the cup from Durmstrang. Igor Karkaroff hid it in the Headmaster's quarters ."

"Karkaroff had it," Ron asked in disbelief. "You-Know-Who gave it to him?"

Draco looked at him in disgust. "And why not? He was once in the inner circle, a loyal follower of the Dark Lord," Draco paused, "like my father."

"But Riddle had him killed," Harry said. "Like your father," he reminded harshly.

Malfoy for once did not take the bait."Of course he did. It was one thing to pretend to have turned to the Light, quite a few of the Dark Lord's followers had done so. But it was another thing all together to loose the Dark Lord's property. That's why he had been running scared. The Dark Lord had come to collect and Karkaroff had no clue what he was talking about. But one other person knew about it and where it was."

Hermione asked, "Who?"

Draco paused for a moment before saying,"M-my father. Igor told him years ago about the cup, you see. Bragged was more like it. I think there had been Ogden's involved. The git didn't realize that the Dark Lord had also gifted my father with a relic," Malfoy said proudly. "My father later obliviated him so that he could not remember the conversation, but not even remember he had the cup at all."

"Smooth bastard," Ron muttered.

"When did your father tell you all this?" Hermione had taken the cup in her hands and was rolling it in her hands. She was looking at Malfoy skeptically.

Malfoy gave her a hard stare before answering. "Over the holiday break when I last visited him at Azkaban. He told me where it was and how to get it. He wanted to ensure a Malfoy's rightful place by the side of the Dark Lord. I was too busy to get it before though..."

"Because you were too busy plotting Dumbledore's murder."

"But as you and I both know Potter I am not the one that actually killed him." Malice glinted in Malfoy's eyes as Harry held his gaze equally.

Hermione tried to break the tension. "Last night you implied that you knew how to destroy the horcrux."

"Actually Granger I outright said it," he commented obnoxiously.

Ron could tell that she'd had about her fill of Malfoy's antics because her eyes started blazing.

"Well," she asked harshly, "if you know so much about it why don't you stop titting about and get on with it then?"

"Nice one Hermione," exclaimed Harry and Ron proudly in unison. Hermione beamed back at them.

"If you all are quite done wanking each other off," Malfoy snarled malevolently, "you undo a horcrux is much the same way you create one."

"You kill someone," Ron asked, eyes bulged.

"No Weasleby. According to ancient texts all that is required is a sacrifice. You offer up a tributary to show that you are deserving. The Dark Lord just killed people because he enjoyed killing people."

Harry's jaw tensed at that statement.

"How do you know all of this Malfoy?"

Hermione continued to drill the arse's story over and over again. It was as if she were looking for the holes. Malfoy was starting to get annoyed.

"What's with all the questions Granger? I already answered these questions for that crazed bastard Moody this morning."

"Well now you answer her," Harry said thru gritted teeth.

"My father told me what to read on the subject."

"So you mean to tell us that Lucius Malfoy not only gave you a means to get in Voldemort's good graces he also told you how to destroy the very thing?"

Malfoy lifted his chin imperiously and said contemptuously, "We Malfoys through out the ages have a long history of playing for both teams."

Hermione held Malfoy's gaze for a moment before she burst into a fit of laughter. She laughed so hard that a tear formed in her eyes. For his part Harry tried to suppress the smile that was threatening to spread on his face. The other two boys cast confused glances at each other. For the first time, and more then likely the last time, a Malfoy and a Weasley agreed on something. Mental.

"Are you quite done yet Granger," Malfoy obnoxiously asked as Hermione continued to laugh. After a bit she finally calmed down.

"Quite done."

"And have I passed the test?"

Once again Hermione stared deep in his eyes and smiled a tight little smile. "For now."

"Well I'm not convinced," Harry said. "I got rid of Riddle's diary without having to sacrifice anything."

Ron felt a shiver run down his spine. Only four years had passed since that time down in the Chamber of Secrets. He could still taste the fear at the back of his throat. Fear that he would find his sister dead. Fear that he would be next. Fear that any moment he would meet a pair of cold yellow eyes around the corner...

"Blimey Harry! You killed the basilisk!"

"What?"

"The basilisk, remember? Before you destroyed the diary you killed the basilisk."

Hermione gasped. "He's right Harry! That was your sacrifice. And...and Dumbledore must have given his hand in order to break the ring. You obviously don't always have to kill something to break the horcrux."

"I see the penny's finally dropped," Malfoy said snidely, crossing his arms in front of him.

"Shut up Malfoy!" All three of them shouted the order at the same time.

Harry looked like he was still digesting the newest information as he asked the git, "How do we get rid of the cup?"

"You drink from it."

Hermione looked at him puzzled. "Drink from it?"

"Yes. It doesn't matter what. Supposedly you drink from it and the rest...happens."

"Bollocks," Ron shouted.

"Do you really think we're a bunch of idiots Malfoy," Harry asked.

"Yes, but that's beside the point."

"What do you think Hermione," Harry asked turning to look back at her. Hermione had been staring at the cup that was still in her hands.

"There's a tiny bit of lettering on this. It says...imbibo?"

"Drink in. It's Latin."

Hermione gave Malfoy a sinister glare. "I'm sure my Latin far surpasses yours."

Malfoy grumbled something about know-it all bitches. She rolled her eyes at him before turning her attention to Harry.

"Helga Hufflepuff was a renowned potion mistress. Probably the greatest there ever was. She is credited with creating Polyjuice, Veritaserum, Felix Felicis, the Draught of Peace. The list goes on and on." She looked back at the cup. "It sounds...plausible." She sounded unsure though.

Harry looked back to Malfoy. "Well then, I guess Malfoy is going to be proving his loyalty." This remark caused the wanker to laugh mirthlessly.

"Not on your life," he said.

"If it's so harmless what could it hurt?"

"The harm is that I'm not the hero in this story. I'm not drinking from that thing. Who knows exactly what kind of sacrifice it wants. It might kill me."

"Ah ha," Ron exclaimed. "So you admit that you're trying to poison Harry."

"Just how daft are you," Malfoy queried. "Do you think that I actually trekked back and forth across Europe, got stalked clear thru Teutoburg Forest by a fucking Erkling who obviously didn't think I had enough hair on my balls, brought that blasted cup all the way here to a house full of people who would kill me so much as look at me all so I could try to poison the Chosen Git?! Sorry, suicide missions just aren't my thing!" Malfoy had worked himself into a lather.

"Alright, alright," Harry said trying to shut him up. "Your need for self-preservation makes it unlikely that you are intentionally trying to kill us. But that still leaves the fact that someone has to drink from it."

"Why don't you get Gingerlocks to do it."

"Why you slimey...no good..."

"Be a man Weasley..."

"...twitchy little..."

"Enough you too," Harry shouted trying to separate the two pureblood young men who had both jumped up and gotten into each other's face. The three of them were so preoccupied that not one of them noticed the girl leaving the room.

Harry ran his fingers thru his hair in frustration. "Maybe we should try to arrange another Order Meeting to figure this out. We'll get McGonagall out here next time, see if she can get Dumbledore's portrait to wake up. He might have some advice for us. What do you think Hermione?" He turned to look at her and was baffled for a moment when he didn't see her still sitting there at her desk. "Hermione?"

Ron and Harry's eyes met and the same question were in them. The cup?

"Well," Malfoy sneered, "I guess one of you was man enough after all."

Ron made a mental note to beat the hell out of Malfoy later, but his first instinct was to get to Hermione immediately before she did something dumb. Drastic. Deadly. Harry obviously had the same idea. Both boys tore out of the room so fast they probably left scorch marks on the carpet. They practically pushed each other out of the way to get down the stairs. Neither of them said anything to the few Order members who were sitting in the living room. They both ran for the kitchen. It was as if both of their minds were working as a single entity. Must get to Hermione! Must get to Hermione! And they both cried out in despair when they found their friend's body sprawled out on the floor, the cup lying next to her.

~~**~~~~**~~~~**~~~~**~~

Hermione wasn't dead. Instead she went into some kind of deep sleep. When Madame Pomfrey later examined her that day, after Tonks and Remus rushed off to get her from Hogwarts, the old school nurse was at a loss of what to do. Hermione had a high concentration of several potions in her system; The Draught of Death, Wit Sharpening solution, the Calming Draught, Veritaserum, as well as the traces of some unknown potable. Madame Pomfrey was actually shocked that the girl was still alive and accidentally said as much in front of her two best friends. The odd thing was that the substance that Hermione actually drank out of the cup was ordinary soy milk from out of her refrigerator.

When Hermione's parents came back from their vacation the boys helped spirit her from her home to Hogwarts. The school governors had decided against opening the school for the new term so the Order chose to set up shop there. Even with Dumbledore gone Hogwarts was still the safest place to be. They set put her in the Head Girl's bedroom. It seemed fitting. Ron, Harry, and Malfoy were sleeping in the Head Boy's room. Ron barely left her side though. Harry either. They would take turns sitting with her, holding her hands, talking to her. Ron was convinced that when she woke up his face should be the first she saw.

Of course that isn't how it happened. One night he and Harry were sitting up with Hermione as usual. They were playing chess, but both boys were so glum that neither could tell who was actually winning the game. The chess pieces were ready to stage a protest over the ill-use they were experiencing. Ron, thinking that he would play better on a full stomach, decided to make a run to the kitchens. He asked Harry to join him, but his best mate declined. Ron made his way from the South tower down to the bottom of the castle and returned about 15 minutes later with a plate of Jaffa cakes covered in chocolate. As he entered the bedroom door the sight before him left him gaping like a cod fish.

Hermione was sitting up in the bed, the spread clutched in her hands to her chest. Her fly-away hair gave her the appearance of a wild, trapped animal. The girl looked like any minute now she would go into hysterics. Her eyes were filled with terror. The thing that Ron couldn't understand was why those alarm filled eye were turned towards Harry. He was half way seated, half way stooped over her on the right side of her bed. She looked like she was trying to move as far to the left of the mattress as she could. Harry looked properly stunned by her behavior. Ron was so baffled by the scene before him that he dropped the plate of cookies.

"Ronnie!"

At the sound of the breaking plate both Harry and Hermione looked towards the door. As soon as Hermione saw him standing there she burst into tears and held out her arms calling for him. Ron wasted no time getting to her side. He folded her up into a bear of a hug as she pressed her face into his chest. Over and over she cried his name. He met Harry's eyes over her brown head and saw the same bewilderment in them.

"Shhhh...shhhhh...Hermione. It will be alright," he said, smoothing her hair and placing kisses on her head.

"Yeah Hermione," Harry said taking on the same calming tone as Ron. "You're safe now." He placed a loving hand on the back of her shoulder.

At the sound of Harry's voice Hermione's form went stiff in Ron's arms. She subtlety shrugged his hand off her shoulder as she pulled her tear stained face from Ron. Neither noticed the destroyed expression that Harry wore.

"What's going on Ronnie," she asked as her head swiveled around the room. "Where am I? Is this Hogwarts? How are we at Hogwarts?"

"Well we kind of had to make a run for it when your mum and dad came home love," he tried to explain to her. "But remind me one day to tell you about how me and Harry snuck you out right under their noses. It was brilliant really!"

Hermione's confusion wasn't abated however."But my parents aren't supposed to be home till the end of the month."

Once again he and Harry shared a look. "Uh...Hermione," Ron said haltingly, trying to find the right words, "see...the thing is...today is the 14th."

"I know that," she said indignantly.

"No Hermione, it's the 14th of September."

Hermione's eye tripled in size at the revelation. The terror was evident on her face. Although life and time had marched on she was stuck a month behind.

"Don't you remember anything," he said as he lovingly placed a hand on the side of her face.

Hermione laid back on the head board of the bed. Ron could see the thought process work it's self out on her face. First her face was twisted in confusion, then implausibility. But soon her features were smoothed by realization.

"The cup," she whispered.

Ron nodded his head. "The cup," he answered. She closed her eyes and exhaled slowly.

Her brow then scrunched up in worry as her eyes sprang open. She clutched at Ron again. "What happened to the cup," she demanded. "Did I...is it..."

Ron beamed a proud smile at her. "You did it! The cup has a large crack on it and the gold is now tarnished. We're not sure, but we think that's a good sign."

Hermione closed her eyes and let out a happy cry at his words. Ron neglected to tell her that the words she saw on it were nowhere to be seen when he and Harry examined the thing.

"I'm wearing night clothes," she said, lifting her covers slightly and glancing at the long flannel nightgown she had on. "How did I get this on," she asked suspiciously, looking warily at Ron.

Although her back was turned so she couldn't see it, Harry blushed the same shade of red that Ron did.

"Uh...Tonks changed you." Hermione visibly relaxed at the answer. "Tonks has been great thru all this. Changing your clothes, switching your linens, vanishing your...um...bed pan. Her and Madam Pomfrey."

Ron then hit himself square on the head.

"Madame Pomfrey, I should go get her," Ron said as he went to move from the bed.

Hermione grabbed a hold of his shirt and said in an agitated, strangled whisper, "No!"

Ron tried to loosen her claw like grip. "Hermione, Madame Pomfrey will want to know that you're awake. Harry can stay with you."

During the whole time Ron had been in the room Hermione never once looked at Harry. She still didn't, even at the mention of his name.

"No Ron, I want you," she shouted. "I want you to stay!"

She was working herself into a frenzy. She started to cry again and pulled Ron's arms back around her. Ron was at a loss for what to do.

"I'll go Ron," Harry said as he threw a hurt glance Hermione's way. She didn't pay his exit any attention.

After Harry left the bed chamber Ron decided to climb in the bed with Hermione. At first he was worried that she would say no, but she seemed to welcome his close presence. He gathered her into his arms and laid her across his chest. He whispered sweet nothings into her hair and rubbed circles across her back. Although her attitude was troubling Ron couldn't help indulge in the feelings of having her in his arms like this. Hermione was never usually this touchy feel-y. After a bit her sobs ceased and she pulled away from him again.

"I'm acting like some silly ninny aren't I," she embarrassedly asked as she rubbed at her red rimmed eyes.

"No," Ron chided her. "You've been thru a heck of an experience. Madame Pomfrey told us to expect some odd side effects if you ever..." came out of it, Ron started to say. He didn't want to upset her further, "...when you came out of it."

He rubbed a tear off of her cheek. "We were scared for you Hermione. We didn't know when you would wake up. I had to force Harry to go to bed some nights, he was so worried."

Hermione swallowed. "And you?"

"Terrified. I thought I was going to loose you."

She grabbed his face in her hands and looked into his eyes. "You are never going to loose me," she said fiercely.

Even if he wanted to he wouldn't have disagreed with her. She seemed intent on making sure he believed her. She pulled him into her arms and began to softly cry again. She mumbled the words "I'm sorry, I didn't know, I'm sorry" over and over. Ron was mystified as to what she could be so sorry about. Did she think that he was angry at her for what she did. He was further befuddled when she asked him a strange question.

"You know that I would never hurt you, don't you?" Ron could have cried for the anguished look on her face.

"Hermione, what are you talking about?"

"Say it," she answered. She was fairly shouting. "Say that you believe me! I would never hurt you. Tell me that you know that," a demanding Hermione pleaded.

"Of course I know that!"

"Good," she said. "Good," she said again, more to herself. "That's all that matters then. That's all that matters."

She closed her eyes and laid her cheek on his chest. She rested her hand on his stomach.

"Hermione, what's wrong?"

"Nothings wrong. Nothing is going to be wrong. I won't let it. Nothing is going to change. I won't let it. I won't let it."

Her words were thick and drowsy. She sounded delirious. She repeated the mantra over and over again.

By time Harry and Madame Pomfrey made their way back to the tower Hermione was asleep and Ron's heart was filled with dread. Something was wrong. Despite Hermione's steadfast promise that nothing would change Ron knew that something already had. He just didn't know what.

On the outside looking in everything seemed to return to normal. The first morning Hermione was fully awake she didn't speak much, but she stayed holed up in the library most of the day. He and Harry had to forcibly remove her from there so she would at least eat dinner. The day after that she went down to Hagrid's to see if he was over a summer cold she heard he had. Ron was ready to think that she was back to normal when later that same day she and Malfoy got in a screaming match over house-elves' rights during lunch. She had even began talking to Harry the same way she normally did. The raven haired young man was terribly relieved at that bit of progress although he and Ron did discuss the fact that Hermione would not stay in a room if Harry was the only one in it. If everyone else made to leave the room she would rush to follow suit. Both he and Harry tried to bring this to her attention, but she would automatically shut them down on the subject. Eventually everything improved and the Trio were a trio again. Only one thing nagged at the back of Ron's mind. They never knew what Hermione's sacrifice was.

She never told.

~~**~~~~**~~~~**~~~~**~~

Those days seemed almost a dim dream to him now; hiding away in secret, fearing a Death Eater around every corner, fighting against You Know Who's dark reign. But with Hermione by his side he was able to bear it. But then the war ended, and for some reason so did they.

Not all at once though. No, that would have been too easy. Their relationship instead went thru a slow, arduous death.

The first time he proposed was buggered up by bad timing. She got word that her parents had died before she could even tell him yes or know. She went into a deep mourning and broke up with him. Then a few months later she actually started dating that prat Rodger Davies! Of course he was shagging Lavender by that time, but still...

The second time he proposed was at Fred and Glinda's wedding reception. She flat out turned him down that time. He dumped her and Lav was there to make his bruised ego feel better in a flash. He thought his heart would break when she took up with Wood. It was like she was consorting with the enemy all over again. Fourth year re-lived!

The last break-up was amicable and necessary. It had finally become exhausting doing this dance over and over with her. He had apparated into his and Harry's flat only to see Hermione on their leather sofa asleep, a book lying open across her chest. Some things never change, he briefly thought to himself, as a smile flitted across his face. It died as soon as he spied the cover of the book. It had a picture of a dark skinned man dressed in sheik's clothing pointing a wand at a a huge bird that looked like an eagle. The title was Making Mystic in the Sands: A Magical History of Morocco. Ron scowled as he read it, but smoothed his face as soon as Hermione started to stir.

"Hmmm...," she said groggily as she stretched her supine form on the coach and opened her eyes. "Did you just get in?" She was looking at him pensively.

"Yeah, dad wanted to meet up for a pint of ale at the Hag."

Hermione wrinkled her nose. "That place is so unsanitary Ron."

"Indeed it is. But the bartender doesn't water down the drinks like Tom and you get a worthy headache for your money." He winced as he rubbed at his left temple. "Like now. Been waiting long," he asked, changing the subject and advancing to her side.

"Not too long. Harry was here for a while, but then Ginny summoned him on that stupid mirror of hers," she said, rolling her eyes. "I don't know why he just doesn't tell her that he hates carrying around that thing. It should be obvious why really."

Ron had no idea what Hermione was going on about. He knew that Harry didn't care for using his mirror. In fact his best mate seemed to constantly "forget" to carry it around with him. If Ron had to make a guess he figured that Harry didn't like the fact that his sister used the thing like a tracking device to keep tabs on him religiously. Hermione had never been that kind of girlfriend. Truthfully sometimes Ron wished that Hermione would act a little more like that. Like Lavender did. Possessive. Like he was all that she wanted in the world. But as of late Ron began to develop a sneaking suspicion that such was not the case.

"I'm surprised you didn't run into him out there. That's where Ginny told him to meet her. According to your sister it would seem that Mr. Potter actually had every intention of wearing last year's dress robes to get married in. The horror," she said mockingly as she turned the book over on its cover and placed it behind her. None of this was lost on Ron.

"What's that you've got there," he asked innocently as he sat down next to her.

"A book," she said evasively. She then began to fix and rearrange the items on the coffee table before them. When Hermione got agitated she didn't know what to do with her hands. It was a nervous habit of hers that popped up when she didn't want to discuss something.

"Well I can see that. What's it about?" His tone was light and even.

"Morocco."

"Gee, what's with the sudden interest in that place? Planning on taking a trip?"

"No," she said as her eyes skirted from him and back to the table. "Just bored. Read everything else."

"I see." He stared at her searchingly for a moment.

His attentions must have made her anxious because she jumped from the sofa and went into the flats kitchen. When she returned 10 minutes later she handed Ron a vial of a thick, khaki colored, mucus-y looking substance. Goyle's Get-up and Go Hangover potion. He and Harry kept crates of the stuff in their cabinet. Goyle might have been a disgusting Slytherin, but some how the lunkhead had discovered a hangover cure that was worth it's weight in galleons. As Ron drank it down he couldn't help but gag at the after taste.

"Gah! That's disgusting. Sometimes I half suspect that I'm still swallowing essence of Goyle like back when I was 12," he said as Hermione sat on the table across from him and plucked the vial out of his hand. His mind instantly began to clear.

"Harry became Goyle," she quietly reminded him.

"Whichever." The potion was doing it's work on his drunkenness, but it was doing nothing to dispel his bad mood that was starting to form. "So how was your day?"

She sighed. "Busy. I've been running from pillar to post trying to plan Ginny's hen night. She keeps floo'ing me at work making suggestions and she is wearing me thin. Add to that the fact that the Weird Sisters are booked up thru the summer and the caterer that I hired for the reception is an avid Tornadoes fan and thinks that serving at Harry Potter's wedding might spoil his team's chances at the title. I'm ready to jump ship!"

Ron leaned into Hermione and placed a hand comfortingly on her knee. "Ginny has no idea how lucky she is, having you for her Maid of Honour."

Hermione gave a strained smile at the compliment.

"Well...I guess," said before changing the subject.

"I had to run into Mungo's to do follow up on a case and I ran into Sue. We had lunch. She told me that she and Tony got engaged."

"He finally got her to say yes," Ron asked in wonder. "Blimey! I'd like to know how he managed that."

Hermione stiffened at the comment and brushed his hand off her knee. He silently cursed himself for his priggishness.

"Yes...well...she had to finish up training didn't she," she snottily countered.

"Alright, alright. So how long till the big day?"

"Some time next year." At this Ron's mouth dropped open in surprise.

"Why so long? They aren't doing the Rites?"

"Anthony's muggleborn, remember? His family probably won't care for one of these shot-wand marriages," she answered. "Plus I think that Mr. Goldstein is a cantor or some such. Susan said they were planning on something very traditional and faith based. No magical hooplah whatsoever."

Ron leaned back on the coach and closed his eyes. He had an exhausting day himself. First his practice session down in Chudley and then his meeting with his dad had taken a lot out of him. He was a trifle on edge.

"Well I don't see what's so wrong with a little hooplah," he said stubbornly. "The Rites were good enough for my grandparents, and for Perce and Penelope, and its going to be good enough for that Potter bloke I hear so much about."

"Well," Hermione said, frowning slightly, "Susan has also decided to take on another year of training to specialize. She wants to be a natal healer."

Ron sleepily mumbled something about Susan's head exploding from all of the studying.

"She asked me to be in her wedding party," she said as Ron's eyes opened in interest. "I told her that I was a bit wedding'd out, what with Ginny and..." she began rolling the glass vial between her palms nervously. "Besides, who knows where we'll be in a year's time," she nonchalantly flipped her hands.

Ron watched her coolly. "Yes...who knows."

There was a moment of uneasy silence between them. Ron opened his mouth to break the lull, but Hermione interrupted him in almost shocking manner.

"Saw Lavender today."

Ron went tense. He didn't like the look on Hermione's face and her practiced nonchalant demeanor. Hermione made it a point not to ever bring up Lavender with him if it could be helped. The fact that she was doing so now made him feel wary for some unknown reason.

"She was having lunch at the restaurant with her husband."

Ron sneered. "Olde Pye still on solid foods, eh?"

Hermione shook her head in disapproval before asking with steady ease, "Did you know that Lavender was pregnant?"

Ron's freckled face scrunched up in bafflement. "Everyone knows she's pregnant. The Prophet can't seem to talk about anything else. Bloody paper is..."

"Did you know that she was 8 weeks pregnant," Hermione asked, cutting him off.

Ron in fact did not know this. He had seen Lavender a few days ago when they had run into each other at the Diagon Alley WWW and he had thought she looked quite plump. But then Daphne Greengrass' article came out the next day and his question seemed to be answered. But no where in the Prophet was it mentioned just how pregnant Lavender was.

"How do you know that," he asked.

Hermione shrugged her shoulders as if they talked about Lavender Browne...Pye's health regularly. "Susan let it slip at lunch. Lavender is seeing Sue's trainer you see."

"Oh." Silence.

"Don't you find that interesting?"

"Maybe." Silence.

"I mean the woman just got back from her honeymoon and in a few days she'll be showing already," she said, innocently.

"So."

"I'm sure her head must be spinning."

Ron's suspicious nature was on alert. He knew damned well that Hermione didn't give a fig about Lavender Brow...Pye. Her fake syrupy concern was setting his teeth on edge.

"First you break up with her. Then she marries that poor old man right after. Now? Pregnant. Just like that."

Ron tried to keep his voice steady. "And?"

Hermione turned her head at his terse question.

"Hermione, is there something you would like to say?"

She turned her head to face him again and, looking in his eyes, asked the question she had been withholding. "Is that your baby Ron?"

For a moment Ron actually believed that he hadn't heard the question. But then the blood started flowing towards his ears and face and he began to splutter. "Are you kidding me? No!"

"Ron she is nearly 2 months along. Are you actually going to tell me that you didn't get that...that you didn't get her pregnant?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying!"

She scoffed. "I'm not stupid Ron."

"But apparently you think that I am."

Hermione grumbled in disgust and got up off the coffee table. She stomped off towards the kitchen and Ron followed after her.

"Hermione, if I had gotten Lavender pregnant I would have done right by her. I would have married her. Lav knows this."

She dropped the vial in the sink as she sneeringly said, "How noble."

"I'll tell you what, Lavender would have never married Pye!"

She leaned against the double basin sink and folded her arms. "People do odd things when in love," she said cryptically.

"What the hell does that mean," he exasperatedly shouted. When she didn't answer and instead turned her back to him he deflated slightly.

"You're tired. You've had a rough day and you're just taking your frustrations out on me," Ron said. "Why don't we talk about this in the morning. I need to get out of my practice robes and take a shower, and you need...honestly I just don't know what you need."

He turned on his heel, prepared to go to his bedroom and wash away this silly little spat when Hermione's voice stopped him cold.

"I think," Hermione's shoulders sagged, "I think we should just end this."

Ron wordlessly reentered the kitchen and stared at Hermione's turned back. Did she just...

"Yes, I think...I think that's what's for the best."

She briefly looked over her shoulder at Ron's querulous face and quickly turned around again.

"I mean really Ron, who did we think we were kidding?"

She began to fiddle with the now broken vial in the sink. "Actually acting like we could still have a real relationship."

She firmly set her shoulders."We need to stop deluding ourselves."

"Deluding ourselves," Ron choked out. He felt like someone had his heart in a vice grip. His anguish was compounded by the fact that she wouldn't even look at him.

"Obviously we aren't right for each other. Add that to the fact that you would actually lie to me..."

Ron was reaching his breaking point. "That's not my kid!"

"...goes to show that you were never really serious about us. That you could be so irresponsible..."

He was upon her in a second. He wrenched her around to face him.

"Now you're just being purposely unfair! Even if that were my baby that Lavender were carrying you and I were not together when it was made. You were still with your little Scotsman, remember?" Every nerve in his body felt taut and any moment he was sure he would explode.

"Let's just pretend that I had been the one to be so stupid as to get sproged up," she said as if that were the craziest idea ever. "Would you have taken me back with wide, open arms Ron?" Ron was speechless at this remark. "I thought so."

She pulled forcefully out of Ron's arms.

"I've got just a few things over here," she sadly said. "I'll just pack them up and pop off."

It felt like an eternity that Ron stood in that kitchen alone. It was almost like he was in a deep daze. End this? Over? Was she serious? He shook himself awake. He walked from the kitchen to his bedroom down the hall. The door was open and he watched Hermione studiously direct objects into a carry bag with her wand. Shoes, jewelry, various articles of clothing. Books.

"You meant to pick a fight with me."

It wasn't a question. It wasn't said in anger. Instead the realization of it all made him calmer then he had been in weeks.

"Honestly Ron," she said dismissively.

That did it! The calm he had been experiencing flew straight out the window. He fairly snarled as he marched into the living room, grabbed her book from off the sofa, and re-entered the hallway.

"You forgot something," he yelled, hurling her book across the room.

Hermione's large brown eyes nearly popped out of her head as she stared at him. The book had nearly hit her. Ron might curse. Ron might yell. But Ron never got physically aggressive with her. She was alarmed by this turn of events. But her horror only intensified once Ron began laughing. Hysterically. Uncontrollably. Maliciously.

"I've been such a bloody fool," he said, advancing in the room. Hermione actually took a step back, the back of her knees hitting his bed.

"You've been looking for a way out of this relationship for weeks! Weeks! Reconciliation! Ha! What a joke. Really Hermione, why did you even bother? Did you feel sorry for me? Pity me?" He was standing in front of Hermione, both of her shoulders gripped in his hands. If he was hurting Hermione her face didn't betray it. Instead she looked like a lost little girl. "You shouldn't have bothered Hermione!"

"You must have breathed easy after your lunch today. Susan Bones dropped an escape hatch right on your lap, didn't she?"

"Ron I don't know what you..."

Ron didn't let her finish her sentence. "I know about Morocco Hermione!"

He shook her shoulders. "I know about everything! The clandestine lunch meetings. The ibises dropping off parchment after parchment. The bloody job offer!" Hermione's tear filled eyes nearly broke him.

"Are you going to deny it? Well, are you?"

His penetrating glare pinned her in place. She tried to escape from his grip, but he was having none of that this time. She was going to answer him, even if he had to shake the truth out of her.

After what seemed like an eternity, Hermione gave in."No," she pitifully whispered.

He let her go and walked to the other side of the room. He didn't even want to look at her.

"H-how...how did you find out?"

He smiled bitterly at her question."Dad wanted to meet for drinks to discuss my plans. He wondered just when I was going to tell him and mum that I was planning on moving to Marrakesh to be with you. What a joke huh?" His voice shook.

"Is Arthur terribly disappointed in me," she asked is a small voice.

"He couldn't be more proud. The youngest Department Head of any ministry? Why shouldn't he? Of course he wished you would have come to him instead of hearing it from Scrimgeour."

Ron briefly looked back at her before turning back around. It was still too hard to look at that face. "The git wanted to know why dad was allowing one of his Ministry pets to scurry off."

Hermione got off the bed and walked up to Ron's turned back. He seized up in anticipation of what she might say or do.

Hermione reached out a hand to touch him, then thinking better of it let it drop to her side.

"I ...I wasn't really going to...I just wanted to know my options...I was going to tell y..."

"Spare me!"

"It's true! I just...it never came out right." She began to plead with him. "But this is such a huge opportunity! Head of International Cooperation!"

"You're leaving me." He was hurt and he didn't care how pitiable he sounded.

"I...I need to do this Ron. I need to go away, at least for a little while. I need..." her eyes watered, "...this is such a huge opportunity."

He laughed bitterly. "Of course it is. But then I really shouldn't be shocked should I."

"What?"

"Did I ever come first Hermione,"

"What are you talking about?"

"It's a simple question. Did I ever come first?"

He turned to face her. "I mean, there was always something that was put ahead of me. This time it's a 'huge opportunity'. When we were younger it used to be school work. Then there was Krum, and Davies, and the Scotsman! Oh and let's not forget Harry," her breathing hitched, "whatever bloody quest of his you felt was more important then me and my needs!"

"Don't you dare try bringing Harry into this! Don't you dare!"

"What Herms," he said emphasizing the name he knew she loathed. "Hate hearing the truth?" He smirked.

"I gave you my whole heart, but that wasn't enough was it? All you had for me were table scraps."

"Bugger that Ron! I've heard this song and dance one too many times for it to be effective anymore. I nearly let your self esteem issues effect every decisions I made. I ignored what I wanted so everyone else could bloody well be happy. But no more," she scathingly said.

"Poor Ron Wesley, always second best. Big bad Hermione broke my heart! Except you weren't too heart broken to stop from fucking Lavender Brown, we're you?"

Ron saw red! "Maybe because it was never a question that Lavender actually wanted to be fucking me!"

Both we're horror struck by what he said. Hermione's knees gave out from under her and she crumpled to the floor, settling in the Indian position. Ron felt the proper git for what he said, no matter how true it rang. He came and knelt by her, but she wouldn't look at him. Her breathing came in short fast pants as she pressed her palm to her chest. Ron was scared that she was having a panic attack until she finally started breathing regularly again.

As she began to calm down she finally turned to him and said,"I love you Ron, but....I...I can't do this to you anymore. I can't do this to me. I...."

"Shhhh." He took her in his arms. "I know. I think I've known for a long time."

"I feel like were in some kind of holding pattern. You know? Continuously moving towards each other and moving back. But never going anywhere. And I'm so tired. Aren't you?"

Instead of answering her question he asked, "So is that it then?"

She pressed her face against his chest and nodded her head slowly.

"And here I thought I'd love you the rest of my life."

She began to sob quietly into his practice robes.

"Was it me? Did I do something? Was I not enough?" He was a glutton for punishment sometimes.

She shook her head. "No Ron. Don't ever think that! I'm the one to blame! I'm the one who didn't know what I wanted until it was too late. You're perfect in every way."

He sighed."Just not for you."

For a long while they just at on the floor like that, her crying in his arms as he comforted her. Then she broke the silence.

"You can hate me if you want to."

He smiled ruefully at the very idea. "No I can't."

She began to play with the sleeves of his robes. "Someday Ron Weasley, just wait and see, you'll find a girl that will make you happier then you've ever been. And when you do I'm going to be there to cheer you on."

"Funny, I had hoped that girl would be you," he said while pulling back to look at her lovely face as she gazed back at him.

Her voice was tremulous. "I did too. You'll never know how much. Things would have been a lot easier if it was meant to be me."

He began to smooth her frizzy hair around her face."I'm never going to stop loving you! I won't. You are always going to be a part of me Hermione."

She smiled prettily at that declaration.

"I better!"

They remained on the floor for a few moments of comforting silence, Ron still stroking Hermione's hair as he rocked her back and forth.

"So are you going to take the job?"

"I don't...I'm not sure."

"It really is a great opportunity."

"I know," she sighed. "But it's such a scary idea, moving so far away, I'm not sure I'm ready for it."

Ron snickered. "Hermione Granger is scared of a challenge?"

"Pshaw! I'll have you know that Hermione Granger is scared of a great many things. New witches to befriend. Gigantic birds. Scheming jinn behind every bottle." She snuggled closer to Ron. "It's all a bit daunting."

"You can always take the teaching position in Peru."

Hermione drew back from Ron's embrace in shock as Ron's smirk told her that he had heard that bit of gossip too. She smiled half guiltily.

"You heard about that as well huh? Well, Deoroverde did make me a nice offer, but I'm not so sure I'm ready to become a junior Minerva already and my Spanish is tragic. At least my French will come in handy till I can pick up the Arabic."

"Well, whatever you decide I'm sure your future will be fantastic. Even if I'm not in it."

She shook her head sternly. "Uh uh. No way. There is never going to be a future of mines without you and...and Harry in it. Never! No matter where I am."

"Does he know?" Ron dreaded the answer. He hated to think that Harry knew about what Hermione had been up to and had not told him about it.

"No."

Ron felt relieved yet also a tad confused. The twins used to joke with him that he had the perfect relationship with Hermione. He got to do all the "fun" stuff with her while Harry got saddled with all of her emotional baggage. He was the one that she told everything to. Ron always assumed that such was the case because Hermione felt more comfortable sharing that side of her with her best friend instead of her boyfriend. Even if her boyfriend was supposed to be her best friend too. Ron had always tried his best not to be envious of the relationship that Harry had with Hermione. He thought of it as a fair trade off he had to endure in order to be her boyfriend. But it was hard knowing that when the girl you were in love with needed a shoulder to lean on she went to someone else. Harry was the one person that knew everything about Hermione. But Ron figured he must have been wrong about that too.

"Are you going to tell him?"

"Of course." He neglected to note the pause she took before she answered though.

"Ugh! I just thought of how Harry's going to take this news about us," Ron bemoaned as his brow scrunched up in apprehension. "He's going to be so disappointed."

"That's why we are not going to tell him," she said simply.

Ron was aghast. "Hermione, he's our best friend."

"And that is exactly why we are not going to tell him." Ron opened his mouth to speak, but Hermione kept talking.

"Harry's happy. He's about to...marry the woman that he loves. He's on cloud nine. And he doesn't need the mess we've made of things to muck that up."

"But he'll want to know."

"Exactly. And he'll want to fix it. Cause that's what Harry Potter does. Savior of the Wizarding world and Dysfunctional Relationships," she mused.

"He loves you and I so much that he would take the focus off his own life to try and 'help' us, when we both know that there is nothing to help."

"So what are you suggesting?"

"That we do nothing," she bit her bottom lip in deep thought, "say nothing. We just go on as though nothing has changed. In a few weeks we'll stand up for our best friend...and Ginny. And when that's all done we can tell everyone the truth. Besides my mind reels to think of the spin that the Prophet will put on this. Probably paint me as a heartless tramp as usual. No, we will wait till after the wedding."

"But that would be lying!"

"I prefer to think of it as a non-admission of truth," she snotted.

"Hermione, you do not lie. Not without good cause."

"And this isn't good cause," she screeched. Ron's mouth dropped open at the lightning quick change in her mood. Just as fast her brief flare of anger subsided. Her shoulders sagged and her light brown eyes misted over slightly.

"Harry has had so little in his life to be happy about. I'm not going to take this away from him," she said as her chin quivered a bit. "I won't take it away from him."

The rest of their conversation was ceased by the arrival of the man of the hour. They both heard the unmistakable sound of his apparition (a loud musket shot) out in the living room. As Ron and Hermione entered the room they discovered Harry draped across the coach, lying on his stomach. He looked worn out. Half of his face was smooched into the sofa and his glasses were half coming off his face.

"I'm never getting married again," he mumbled groggily into the cushion. One green eye looked at them both.

Ron came to sit on the arm of the sofa. "Sort of is the point mate," he joked, smiling jovially at his best friend. In truth he was putting on a better act then he felt.

Hermione came and sat on the coffee table once again. "Ginny put you thru your paces huh?"

"I never want to see the inside of Malkin's again."

"That bad," asked Hermione.

"Worse! I've never been so pricked and prodded in my life. I apparated out of the place in protest after her assistant measured my inseam." This earned a genuine chortle from Ron. Hermione however was a little slower on the uptake.

"Why would she need to do that if you were only buying robes...oh." This caused Ron to laugh even harder and earned him a peeved huff from her.

"Ginny is going to have my head." He turned over on his back and looked between the two of them. "So what were you guys up to before I got here, you're all rumpl...you know, don't answer that question."

Ron let out a deep chuckle from his belly. Harry always got uncomfortable at the thought of him and Hermione shagging. He turned to Hermione to share a conspiratorial smile, but instead he caught a woeful look on her face before it smoothed into it's usual studiousness.

"If you want Harry, I can pick up some robes for you tomorrow after work. I already know your size and what you prefer. I mean, if that's alright with you?"

She rose up off the table, but before she could move a inch Harry extended a long arm and grabbed one of her hands to hold her there. He squeezed it.

"Your a God-send Hermione, you know that. What would I ever do without you?"

Hermione looked genuinely caught off guard at the statement."Yes...well...er," she stammered. "We won't ever have to worry about that will we? I um...thirsty!"

She made a made dash for the kitchen.

Both boys watched her retreating back and were flummoxed.

"What's the matter with her," Harry asked.

Ron figured that maybe Hermione was realizing that maybe it wouldn't be too easy to lie (cause c'mon, that's what it bloody is) to Harry after all. But for her sake he decided to play along with her little game.

"Mental, I guess."

Looking back, Ron always knew that he and Hermione ended things at the right time, while they still loved each other. While they were still friends. Ron loved Hermione back then with all of his heart, but eventually he came to realize that they grew apart because they grew up and became different people from who they were when they first started. Was it the war that changed things? Or was it that after the war there was no grand cause to prop up the Ron and Hermione Show any longer?

He wasn't sure. He just knew that for whatever reasons, Hermione closed off a part of herself from him and the rest of their years together felt like he was just sitting outside of the gate, begging to be let back in. After awhile, after the final break-up, he realized that he no longer wanted back in.

He sometimes shuddered to think what would have happened if they had kept trying to force something that wasn't there. If they kept hurting each other in the name of this GREAT LOVE that was supposed to be their's. Would they would be married now? Ron shuddered at that thought. Would they be trapped in some stale marriage, barely speaking? Was this what was going on with his sister and Harry now? Or was he just projecting?

Ron had fully accepted that as far as he and Hermione were concerned the idea that they were 'meant to be' was a crock of shit. Was that the case for Harry and Ginny too? Had they fallen victim to the same damnable lie and were now paying the consequence?

Then again they could just be going thru a rough patch right now. If any couple was supposed to make it it was supposed to be those two. They belonged together, everyone said as much. Ron never quite got why that was, but he did accept it like any other known fact. The sky is blue. Malfoy is an pointy faced bastard. Ginny and Harry forever! If they couldn't make a go of their marriage Ron seriously had to wonder if anything in life was ever truly destined. Or were they just bodies hurtling thru life till they collided with another entity and just managed to get stuck? Was life really that random, he wondered.

Once he and Violet were all spiffed up and ready to go he and the little girl were headed towards the door. He was holding on to her hand when all of a sudden Ron felt the energy level of the room go up. Someone was apparating thru. In a blink of an eye and the pop of a bottle of champers, Lav stood before their eyes. She looked very fetching in her newly bought robes and her hair was pinned up in so many swirls and loops that it gave her the look of a glamorous goddess. However, if the look on her face was any indicator, she was feeling less then grand at the moment. He barely had time to open his mouth to greet her when she suddenly threw herself into his arms.

"They are horrible," she wailed, wrapping her arms about him tightly.

As Ron let go of Violet's fingers and took his fiancée into his embrace fully, his little girl scampered off into the direction of his bedroom. He briefly hoped that she wouldn't make a mess of herself before they could leave. He then turned his full attention to Lavender.

"Shhh...shhh...tell Won-Won all about it," he crooned as he deftly smoothed her blond hair, careful not to disturb the careful workmanship of it.

Lavender sniffed loudly as she pulled back from him and wiped at her blue eyes that were rimmed in red.

"Your mum and my mum are going to kill each other," she cried. "Mother decided that it would be a grand surprise if she had the Elysian cater the affair. She didn't even tell me."

"Oh no."

"Oh yes! Of course your mum was ready to take her wand to mines. It's the groom's mum who is supposed to host the bloody commencement but of course mother acts as though that fact is to be ignored. Said that the guests would prefer to eat a more 'cultured' fare. She said it to Molly's face! And of course Molly didn't take that well. Said that the Weasleys had no time for people who put on snooty airs. And she looked at me when she said it! Like I had something to do with this whole thing. Your mum hates me now too!"

"Shhh...mum doesn't hate you. Mum can just be a bit proud at times is all. It's a genetic trait I'm afraid."

"Well everyone is just going on and on about what they want, but no one cares what I want," she wailed.

"I care what you want."

Lavender pulled back from him and looked into his eyes. "You do, don't you? And I care about what you want. Oh I love you so much Ron!" She then squeezed him tightly.

"Tell me something I don't know," he said lightly."Listen, you always look after me, it's my time to return the favor. We're going straight to the Burrow and make a certain Mrs. Brown and a certain Mrs. Weasley behave. I'll even send them to the corner with threats of no dessert if I have to." He then pulled back to look at her. "C'mon, let's go."

"Mummy, mummy you're here. That means Kwooksie can come now," said Violet ecstatically as she ran back in the room with the cat in her arms. She was holding him much like one would hold a large bag of flour. Crookshanks looked unamused.

Lavender huffed as she looked down at her little girl and then back to Ron. "Do we have to take the cat?"

"You know if we don't she'll raise holy hell. I don't know about you, but I don't feel like being splinched because Vi threw a hissy on the way out," he reasoned.

"Alright, alright. But you take the monster. I don't think he likes me."

"Really," Ron asked innocently. "What would make you say that?"

Lavender walked up a few paces to where Violet was standing holding Crookshanks. The cat bristled and hissed at her. Lavender looked pointedly at Ron.

"So I'll be taking the cat then," Ron quickly said as he reached down to pluck the orange beast out of his daughter's arms. Violet then began to jump up and down clapping her little hands while giggling.

Ron figured that since he would have to take the cat with them he might as well fly over to his old childhood home. He hoped that maybe Harry and the twins would have their brooms there too. After the ceremony they might be able to round up a few of their old friends and play a pick-up game of Quidditch. It would feel just like old times.

"So Mr. Weasley," Lavender said as she interupted his thoughts, "Are you ready to begin the Rites? Are you sure that I am all you will ever want?" She was grinning at him cheekily.

As he watched Lavender grab on to Violet's hand he realized that the answer was an emphatic yes. The good old days were nice, but he had a suspicion that all that the future could hold might be even better.

"As long as you don't start leaving the toilet seat up," he joked in a sarcastic yet loving tone. "I just hate it when birds do that."

Lavender walked over to him, Vi in tow, and kissed him on the lips adoringly. "Well since I'll have years and years to work on it, I'll try to keep that in mind," she whispered softly as she pulled back.

Maybe he was wrong. Maybe some things were really meant to be. Obviously not Hermione and himself. But maybe the universe, in it's infinite wisdom, only waited till the perfect time to make sure that the right two people ended up with one another. Like it did finally with him and Lavender. If that were the case, Ron figured that maybe it was best if he stayed out of Ginny and Harry's business altogether. He didn't need to interfere. They didn't need his help. If the universe was right about the Potters then there was nothing in this world that could part them. Right?

A/N: Just a few things. No, Hermione did not drink a love potion. Rather the combination of potions in her reacted off of something that was already there. Let's review what was in her system; The Draught of Living Death (causes one to go into a deep sleep), Calming Draught (ceases any emotional turmoil), Wit Sharpening potion (makes one think clearly), Veritaserum (the most powerful truth serum), and one potion that Pomfrey couldn't identify (but will be revealed at a later date). Now remember back to Chapter 4, someone (and I am not saying that it was Lucius) has told Draco that drinking from the Hufflepuff Cup can cause one to dream. Now what, oh what could dear Hermione have been dreaming about over and over again for a month? What realization could she have come to that upset her so much? :^)

Hermione's sacrifice will be revealed later as well.

I received an email that asked me about some of the elements of the story; what I made up and what I didn't. If I can remember to, I will try to share that info.

Info on the real Boadicea http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Boudicca

If you have any other questions, hit me with 'em. By the way, sorry for all the horrible typos and whatnot in the last chapter. I mean, I know I haven't always been on top of my game, but that was just a travesty. At one point I had to wonder if I totally just fell asleep at the keyboard for like 2 minutes or something. My bestfriend has been beta'ing, but obviously that ain't working. I could use one like crazy! Is anyone willing? Pretty please, sugar on top?

Tell me if you like it. Tell me if you hate it. Just tell me something. Please review.