So I guess I should have started the story out a little something like this: This isn’t a true love story. There are no rainbows, there is no mush, and there is no falling into bed with a complete stranger or a certain ferret. While the ferret is in this story, Hermione doesn’t give up Ron in favor of him, nor is she willing to give him up period. She beats herself up over his death, turning to alcohol to numb herself. Her friends are about ready to give up, that is until Draco steps in.