AN: Before we get started, I like Ron in the series but sometimes making Draco the hero means making him the villain. In this story I try to portray him as a whole character, who does terrible things but is also sometimes sympathetic. However, if you don't want to read this story, which contains some abuse (although nothing sexual and nothing too graphic) that's okay. Otherwise, enjoy!

Summary: When Hermione's marriage dissolves, she goes to lawyer and ex-classmate Draco Malfoy for help. The person she never thought she'd ask for anything ends up being the closest to her when enemies transform into allies, then friends, then more…

Chapter I:

It was a dream come true when Ron and Hermione were married; for their fans and their families. The day was covered by the press and the first Daily Prophet delivered to her on their honeymoon contained a fully annotated breakdown of her wedding dress and veil. She vividly remembered that moment because she and her husband of less than twenty four hours were already in a huge argument. As the owl had landed he'd snapped what he wanted to be the last word and grabbed the jug of milk, but she'd indulged and corrected what he thought was the words of a prophet, snatching the paper. It hadn't been all bad; there was a reason she'd married him in the first place. The idea of falling in love with your best friend was so appealing; someone you already knew so well. They'd still had that connection for a while but it deteriorated over the years with each argument. Now when they weren't arguing they were mostly silent to avoid starting one. It hurt to think that she no longer had that connection with one of her best friends since childhood but she retained hope that maybe one day it would be fixed. Finally she realised that the only way that was possible would be to prioritise the friendship over the romance. It all sounded quite logical and well thought out in her head, but when she sat her husband down at the kitchen table and expressed her feelings he didn't see it the same way, adamant that they were fine. She just shook her head and leant back on her arguments, but the cold truth quickly angered Ron.

"I've provided for you and this family for twelve years," he spat, pushing his chair back and thumping his fist on the table angrily.

She raised an aggravated eyebrow. "Excuse me Ronald? I make twice as much as you, and I've worked hard to get to that point!"

He waved her off with a flippant hand gesture. "We're not splitting up. How could you do that to the kids?" Her vision flashed with red as he tried to use their children to emotionally manipulate her. She was so thankful she'd organised a play date for them at Harry and Ginny's and they weren't here to witness how awfully the man who should be their hero and role model was reacting to this. She never wanted either of them to emulate him in this moment. "How could you do this to me?" As his voice cracked, she saw the teenager he'd been again and her heart cracked open, recognising that this was a terrible situation. She knew that it must hurt him, and she in no way wanted to do that, but she had to be clear and firm so as not to mislead him. Crossing over to him she squeezed his hand, but smelt the firewhisky on his breath immediately. Gone were the days of butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks. These days Ron spent his time in a sick cycle of drinking enough to give him confidence to gamble with the money he "provided" them with, then drink more to assuage the almost-always outcome of defeat.

Her eyes burning with indignation, she gritted her teeth and snapped "really?" He had work the next day, if he could get there.

Reflecting off of her own, his body tensed up, digging, maybe unconsciously but nonetheless painfully, into her wrist. "Merlin's beard!" He slurred. "You criticise me for the only thing that's probably getting me through this bloody moment right now."

"You didn't know I was going to tell you this," she rationalised, struggling to pull herself out of his grip, hardened from all those years of Quidditch trying to hold onto the Quaffle and never let it go.

He bent down the distance to reach her ear and whispered into it "but you love me 'Mione, and I love you. Every couple argues."

She felt a tear staining her cheek but finally got up the strength to pull away and tell him that no, this wasn't right. This wasn't how it should be. She hadn't planned on anything dramatic, but his reaction has unnerved her and in a split decision she pointed at the door. "I want you to leave. Go home to the Burrow or something."

"This is my house," he advanced upon her with a shaking fist. "My family."

"Harry made the down payment for us," she corrected him. "We haven't paid him back so if anything it's his house, but I know he wouldn't want the children out on the street, and I'm not leaving them." The look on his face was truly terrifying, not at all the Ron she used to know, but she pushed steadily onwards anyway, as steadily as she could manage. "We'll talk about custody and things when you've sobered up. I really hope that-" He cut her off by throwing his glass across the room at her, her protego charm slow now that she was no longer in a time of battle and the glass still managed to cut her cheek. She touched a finger to it and when she looked it was red with blood that swam in front of her eyes as if she had been spun on a roundabout in the playground four or five times. A hand clapped over his mouth, Ron realised what he'd done and stepped towards her trying to apologise. "Stop! Stop it!" She screamed like a banshee, her arm still hovering in the air uncertainly. "Get out!" At last he obeyed, with the caveat that he'd be back for his things after work, and that he wasn't giving up on her, or the children. Then he stumbled out of the house, leaving her to crumble to her knees with painful gut-wrenching sobs that left her utterly breathless but somehow feeling lighter than she had an hour ago.

"Hermione Granger-Weasley?" She didn't hear the first call, not because of the copy of Witch Weekly she was limply holding, as if she'd ever read such drivel. She hadn't even taken note of what she'd picked up, just turned the page occasionally, her eyes gazing over the top at the two frizzy ginger haired children playing with the Wizarding Chess set in the waiting room. Their father had taught them, he'd tried to teach her as well but she'd never picked it up and it just angered him after a while, complaining that she wasn't listening, so they'd eventually given up trying. Rose and Hugo whined at each other, or laughed occasionally, sometimes even glancing at her, making her eyes switch to the pages that were just a blur of pictures and words so as not to worry them. Perhaps that plan wasn't working. She'd tried to be calm when Ginny had dropped them back home last night, but she'd had to tell them something, and she couldn't make herself lie to them so it had been that Mummy and Daddy were having some problems and they couldn't live together anymore, but they still loved both of them as much as ever. Rose, who'd been more of a Daddy's girl, had cried into her mother's arms, breaking her heart, but even worse had been Hugo's non-reaction. He'd just sat there silently and then gone to bed like normal. She'd sat outside his door for a while and then peered in, only to find him sleeping soundly. A loud cough and the repeated call of "Mrs Granger-Weasley?" Made her drop the magazine, apologising and placing it on the table next to her before kissing each of her children on the head and then following the solicitor into his office with a last glance back at them, but she recognised the secretary from school and decided she trusted her to keep an eye on them, although she left the door ajar.

When she'd first read the name on that door she'd been a little reluctant, but everyone said he was the best and that was what she needed. If she'd expected him to laugh in her face or launch straight into his old tirade, she'd be wrong. He was nothing but professional as he smiled cordially and directed her to take a seat in front of his desk. But then, according to all reports, he was a reformed man. The last time she'd seen him in person was years ago after the Battle of Hogwarts, covered in soot and grime like the rest of them, on their side. She remembered reading about his wife's death in the newspapers a few years ago. Tragic, but as well as being an excellent lawyer, she hoped that another single parent would better understand her plight. "How can I help you?" He asked, and she proceeded to burst out laughing, then slapped a hand to her mouth in embarrassment.

"Godric," she swore. "I'm so sorry, Malfoy, that was terribly unprofessional. Please don't hold it against me." She looked up into Draco Malfoy's surprised grey eyes, foggy and uncertain rather than the clear cut blue Ron's signifies. "It's just that I never imagined you'd be saying that to me with a straight face."

The ex-Slytherin dipped his head in a slightly ashamed yet still charismatic way. She could tell that he regretted his past actions but he wouldn't deny who he used to be. "People change, I guess, and you're not on a trial, I'm here to help you. So why don't we start by switching to first names, Hermione?" It was clear he'd never said the name before; it sounded exploratory, curious, musical. Ron just snapped out her name nowadays, not shortening it so much as a sign of affection but because it was more convenient. He was making an effort, and it made her more sure that she could trust him, so she began to explain her situation. She'd nearly finished when a familiar family owl of her in-laws swept through the window and dropped a letter in front of her. "It's from Ron," she apologised, ashamed at how little decorum she was showing but unable to resist the temptation to find out how her husband felt in the light of day.

"Go ahead," encouraged Draco. "I'll start working on those papers for you, but if there's any updates that aren't too private, let me know." She nodded in thanks for his understanding and opened the letter, not sure what she was expecting but a howler wasn't it. She hadn't even noticed that the envelope was red. Draco wouldn't be able to let her read this in private after all. "To the coldest, most heartless bitch I've ever met," the letter read out in the familiar voice that made her flinch. Draco looked over in shock, and she tried to blink back the watery tears she felt beginning to drip from her eyes. "After all the years I've given you, after everything we were, after I did what you asked and gave you space! What type of lying, selfish bint disappears with a father's children after telling him they'd discuss it! I don't know where you are, but I will find you and take back what is mine!"

The paper burst into flames then fluttered to the floor in a pile of ashes, her heavy breathing the only sound in the room for a moment. She wanted to say something, how she had never meant to cut Ron out, as she'd explained to Draco a few minutes ago she still wanted him to be able to see the children and to be involved in drawing up this contract, but she wanted that for her first love, not the creature who seemed to be inhabiting his skin. She couldn't say anything, it would just be a lie, so Draco spoke first. "You're not going back to that house," he said determinedly. "It's not safe." Her forehead furrowed in confusion, unsure where else she had. Harry would probably be on Ron's side, as usual, and her father had passed away last year whilst her mother had been moved into a care home, she didn't have any other close friends around, leaving her stranded. "Please come to mine." She froze, shocked by the offer, never having considered it in her wildest dreams, but Draco's voice was dripping with sincerity. He begged her, "we have strong wards even a genuinely powerful wizard couldn't break, so Weasley stands no chance." His small attempt at humour caused the tiniest quiver of her lip, but she was thankful for it nonetheless. "I know this is hard to believe, but I've always admired you as a witch and you don't deserve this." He jerked his head to the slightly open door. "They certainly don't. I couldn't live with myself if I sent you all back into danger."

Asked at any point since she met 'the ferret' up until that envelope exploded it would have been a definitive no. But now she couldn't stop herself glancing between him and the door. She didn't care so much about her own safety, but she couldn't live with herself if Ron ever hurt the children, not that he ever would on purpose, at least she hoped not, but drugs and circumstance had transformed him into something she didn't want them near. Slowly, she nodded.