Hermione Granger-Malfoy sat in her bedroom. Her soft covers spread over the bed, with her snoring husband sleeping peacefully. She watched him sleep. He looked so peaceful when he slept.

If on the day of her graduation from Hogwarts, someone would have told Hermione that seven years from that day she would be married to Draco Malfoy, she would have laughed. But, now, here they were, about to celebrate seven wonderful years of marriage.

Draco was so different. Psychically he looked the same, but he was such a different person. For six years, he had tormented Harry, Ron, and Hermione, at every chance he would get. At the end of sixth year, he was apart of the plot to murder Albus Dumbledore. However, when the final battle rolled around, Draco had stood at Hermione's side. He had helped to defeat Voldemort, and it was for this reason, coupled along with many others, that she had fallen in love with him.

Harry had finally accepted it. He and Draco were not friends, nor would they every be, however, it was like some sort of silent agreement between the two of them. Neither would begin an argument with the other.

Ron was different though. He and Malfoy never missed a chance to battle it out. That was until Ron had finally left. He decided to go and live in America, and decided to never come back. Although Hermione was more in love with Draco than anything, she still held a proverbial torch for Ron. He could always find that one spot of her being that made her knees buckle, and her hands tremble. This was proven, two nights ago.

Hermione had been sitting in the Leaky Cauldron. She and Draco had a fierce argument, a very rare thing, and it drove her from their home to this bar so that she could clear her mind.

She sipped quietly, not paying much attention to those around her. However, when someone tapped her shoulder lightly, it scared her.

"Sorry to scare you," the deep voice said.

Hermione turned around, and standing before her was none other than Ronald Weasley. However, this was not the same man that Hermione had seen leave all that time ago.

He was taller, standing at around 6 feet tall. During school, he was been slender, now, he was very muscular. His muscles were present, even through the cloak. His hair was still just as bright red as other, however, he had let it grow out and it now rested neatly all over his head, partially covering the tops of his eyebrows and ears. His freckles were ever present, highlighting areas of his face. His blue eyes shone brightly against the backdrop of the dark bar.

"Oh my," Hermione began, tears filling her eyes, "Ron." She thrust her arms over his shoulders, giving him a very tight hug. He did the same. After a moment of this, Ron took a seat opposite her.

"How have you been, Hermione?" Ron asked, eyeing her wedding ring with disdain.

"I've been fine," she smiled. "Ron, how come you never wrote? You just show up here as though no time has passed. Like Harry and I haven't missed you."

"I would have written, but, I didn't know what to say. I mean, I did pack and leave all in one say, and by the time you both found out I was gone, it was too late. Hermione, I'm sorry," he said truthfully.

"Well, that still doesn't explain much," she said in no-nonsense tone. "Why did you leave?"

Ron reached out, and placed his hand on top of hers. "Hermione, you know how I felt…feel about you. I couldn't stand it anymore."

Hermione moved her hand from under Ron's. "Ron," she began, looking away, "I've fallen in love. Draco is my husband now. I love him."

"Hermione," Ron began, "I know you love him. I can see it in your eyes that you do. But, I also see something else there."

"What?" asked Hermione, loosing patience.

"I see that me and Draco finally have something in common. Not the fact that we both love you, but, you love us both."

Hermione paled. She looked at him, and began stammering, trying to find something to say. However, when the words would not come, she stood, as did he. She began walking to the door, and was almost there when Ron grabbed her by the hand. He spun her to him, and kissed her.

It was more than a kiss though. Although in all actuality it lasted no more than 7 seconds, for Hermione is was an eternity spent in bliss. She felt his warm lips pressed against hers, and the warmth of his body as he grabbed her and pulled her near. Hermione knew that this was wrong, but it felt so right, too right in fact. When she broke it and came to her senses, she stared at him.

"This is wrong," she finally said after the moment of stunned silence. She turned, and stepped out into the pouring rain of the streets of London. Ron followed.

"Hermione wait," he said, quickening his pace.

"Ron, no," she said.

"Hermione, please. You're all wet. At least come in here with me. I live right here, in this building."

Going against her better judgment, Hermione entered Ron's flat. It was poorly decorated, showing all the signs that a bachelor lived there. Dishes in the sink, old quidditch magazines lying about.

"I don't want anything from you," he said. "You can just stay here till the rain stops."

"Thank you," she said, taking off her coat.

"No need. I know its not much, but its home. I'm going to get changed."

Ron entered the bathroom, closing the door partially, and began getting undressed. Hermione watched him. He removed his cloak, and then his shirt, revealing biceps and abs that looked as though they were carved from stone.

After a few more minutes, in which Hermione saw much more of Ron than she was supposed to, Ron came back into the room and stood in front of her.

"Hermione," he began, "why are you sitting there in those wet clothes? You're gonna get sick."

"Oh," Hermione said. She really did not notice what she was wearing. She pulled off her cloak, revealing tight fitting jeans and a wet T-shirt. Hermione suddenly became someone other than herself. She looked at Ron, and threw all caution to the wind. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and began kissing him. Ron's strong arms grabbed her by the waist, and picked her up. Hermione straddled her legs around him, as he moved and placed her down on the counter.

"Hermione," Ron managed to say in-between kisses, "do you really want to do this?"

"Yes," Hermione said. Loud moans escaped her mouth.

The bodies of the two of them became entwined in a night of carnal pleasure that led them from the counter, to the couch, to the bedroom. In the morning, Hermione quietly crept out, leaving Ron with a kiss on the lips.

So, now, here she was. Sitting on the bed, waiting for Draco to wake up so that they could talk. Hermione was guilty, and she would confess it all to him. Draco's eyes opened as the banging from the door got louder. Both Hermione and Draco went downstairs to open it. Hermione got there first. She pulled it open slowly, and standing in front of them was Ron.

"Hermione," he began, "I've come to take you home with me. You're mine and I love you."

Hermione became pale.

Draco balled up his fist.

Ron looked ready for anything.