A/N: Rated T for plenty of pepper crusted angst and drama in this one. And a gentle reminder, via the Solicitors, that I don't HP, AW, MPW, RW, or HG-W. I have some green bean vines growing the garden. That's the extent of my current ownership. - DG


Arthur sat at the dining room table reading the evening edition of the Daily Prophet. Since the war ended, they had been running two papers a day to update the Wizarding community about the potential captures of the remaining Death Eaters. He wanted to read the news and compare what was actually true and what was propaganda. Since the death of Alistair Parkinson, and with Pansy taking over as Publisher of the paper, it had turned back to a reasonable publication.

Molly bustled in the kitchen in preparation for dinner. Tonight would be the first time Ron and Hermione had been over for dinner since their departure to Australia 7 weeks ago – and eight weeks since they stormed out of the house together.

"Arthur, what time is it?"

He put the paper down on the tabletop and checked his wrist. "It's 6pm. You've got an hour before they are due to arrive."

"Well, I'm nervous. What if he's not eaten since he left? I doubt those Muggles could feed him right." Molly opened the door to the wood oven to check the bread before closing it quickly.

"Molly, I'm sure they were more than adequate to feed our son."

"Well, I've got a huge ham roast, with apples, caramelized onions and mushrooms, as well as fried tomatoes and creamed parsnips, along with green beans from the garden. I've also made a loaf of bread and chocolate pudding. That should be enough for Ron and the rest of us."

"It'll be fine, Molly. If it was the entire family it wouldn't be. But since it's just them with us, we'll have plenty."

She turned and looked at her tired husband sitting at the table. "Do you think I should make something else too? Ron's sure to have an appetite."

"Molly, what you've already made will be more than adequate. Really. The rest of us will eat like normal people. You've got enough for eight, from the looks of it. Besides, Hermione probably eats like you do – half as much as I do."

Molly stopped over the stove. "I've not seen Ron in two months, and before that, they were barely home before they left, and then before that, it was a year when they up and disappeared. I miss my son. I want him home."

"And you've had all the other ones home most of the summer helping out. We've not had a full house like this in years. So what's really going on?"

Molly turned and Arthur saw the pain on her face. "I want my baby home. I want my family intact. Ron's too gentle to be like he is now. That's not like him, running out on us and not telling us what's going on. It's not like him to disobey me, and you, in this house. What happened to my sweet boy? What happened to him?"

Arthur took the glasses off his nose and proceeded to clean them. Molly knew after 30 plus years of marriage that he was working up the courage to tell her something she'd not like to hear or know. Better to step in before he worked into his recrimination.

"Whatever you're going to say, don't. I know that he's been through a lot while they were gone and I know he was protecting Harry and in the thick of the fighting. But that's no excuse for him to disobey us as long as he lives here. I won't put up with any further insolence from him. You understand?"

"Molly, that's enough. If you keep that up tonight you're going to drive that boy away for good, you hear? Do you want him like Charlie, coming home only for emergencies?"

"But he's just a child, barely –"

"That's rubbish and you know it. He's of age now and a man in his own right. He has made his choices and you're trying to use a time turner to make him eleven again. He's a grown up and has seen things that probably would give us nightmares. Do you really want to treat him as a child, drive him away by treating him as one instead of an adult who has seen too much?"

"But, Arthur, he went to Australia with her, without our permission. That's unacceptable."

"That Her, as you refer to Hermione, is his girlfriend now. Don't you understand the precarious position you put him in? It was either stay with us, bored out of his skull for months, pining for her, or keep his promise to Hermione and go with her, disobeying us. What would you have had that son of ours do? Break his word to his girlfriend after years of lacking the courage to be with her?"

"And that's another thing, Hermione. He's been sleeping with her before they were married. That's scandalous, especially under our roof, no less! It sets a terrible example for Ginny, thinking she can do that too, with Harry."

Arthur shook his head in consternation. "And I laid down the law on that. You nearly drove him away the first time with the rules of the house and you hurt that broken child by it too. Yes, they jumped into the relationship so quickly for my own comfort. But if you've not noticed, there was something wrong with Hermione. She's not the same woman who was at the wedding last year. She's changed for the worse, I reckon. I won't mention the nightmares and screaming at 2am, or the fact that she barely talks anymore, 'cept to Ron. And you've not noticed how sick she looked when we saw her last. You were too deep in grief over Fred to notice that she was barely able to sit up, much less do everything else she was doing."

"It doesn't matter. What they are doing isn't right. He needs to be home, with us, being a teenager before going back into the thick of danger. Do you know he wants to be an Auror? Kingsley said he'd accept Ronald into training without his NEWTS. But he's not ready for that, being shouldered with adult responsibilities. And she should be living at home, with her parents, not letting her reputation be impugned before they are married."

"Now that's enough, Molly Prewitt.

"Arthur," Molly retorted.

"Look. They'll be here shortly. I'm sure you'll harangue him again. But don't be surprised if he doesn't obey you. You're asking him to choose between you and Hermione. After the last year, you're going to be sadly mistaken if you think he'll stay at home and let her go."

Molly folded the towel into her apron and sat down in the chair next to her husband. "I'm not asking him to choose between us. I just want him home so I can help take care of him. He doesn't have to give up Hermione. She can stay here, in Ginny's room, like respectable kids are."

"Now you're being barmy, Molly. You really think you can put that dragon back on the reserve?"

"If he wants to be treated like an adult with us, he needs to act like one. That means respecting our decisions while under our roof."

Arthur looked at his wife. "He's not going to move back, not after he's been out from under our roof pretty much for the past year, living on his own with his two best friends. Our rules of the house are going to be too stifling on him."

"Of course he will, Arthur. This is his home and it's comfortable for him, and he hates to miss meals, and likes to have someone look after him. Do you think he can get that living in London with Harry and Hermione?"

"Mom, Dad?"

The couple at the table turned and saw their youngest son at the back door. He looked to have grown even taller since they saw him last. "Ron!"

Molly got up from her chair and bustled around the table. Ron stepped into the kitchen first, followed by Hermione. Molly engulfed him in a hug. "Oh my Ron! My sweet boy!" she muttered into his jumper. She didn't see Hermione step into the kitchen and remove her jacket and hang it up on the hook behind the door.

Arthur stood up and held his arms out for Hermione while Molly was sobbing into her youngest son's jumper. She walked into his arms and relaxed some in his comfortable embrace. She quickly pulled back from the hug and took a place at the table, further down from their seats. He watched the larger than life witch sit sedately at the table, pouring tea for Ron. Three sugars and some milk was his tea. For hers, she added a little milk before sipping on it.

Arthur frowned. Hermione looked deathly ill. The sparkle in her eyes was dim and her pallor was almost winter-like. The bags under her eyes didn't help, either. He looked back to Molly as she was finally untangling from her son. "You really need a haircut and you feel like you're still sickly. No matter. I've made up a feast for us tonight."

She bustled back to the stove while Ron sat down next to his girlfriend. Arthur watched them settle in with comfortable silence. "So how was Australia? Did you see anything exiting? Do they really have fish in the sea that kill people, like water dragons?"

So, for the next half hour, Ron talked about Brisbane and the Gold coast, getting to go down to the beach and swim some on an off day. Ron talked about food, and how nice the weather was, and how the Grangers were once Hermione returned home with him in tow. He talked about the trip out into the Outback for a few days with them, taking the tent Bill loaned to them, and all of the other things that were fascinating.

While Ron was talking, Molly loaded the table up for dinner, placing the various things on there for them to eat. In short order, the table was full. "Well, tuck in."

Ron made a plate, taking double helpings of ham with the gravy, and the creamed parsnips and beans. He speared some of the tomatoes and helped himself to the fresh baked bread. Within seconds, he tucked in and moaned in appreciation.

Almost everyone else followed suit, loading their plates with Molly's cooking.

Hermione took a small slice of ham, some of the creamed parsnips and beans, and a slice of bread. The gravy, along with the fried tomatoes, was left there. "Aren't you hungry, Hermione? There's plenty for everyone. Ron'll sure to leave some for you."

Arthur looked and Ron had almost finished everything on his plate. "Slow down there, son. There's plenty made up for dinner tonight."

"Sorry," he muttered into his plate. "We were out in London today and I barely had anything to eat since toast and a cuppa at breakfast. I was starving."

"Well, go ahead and get another helping," Molly smiled at her husband while plating more slices of ham and gravy, along with more beans and parsnips and tomatoes. "I made plenty tonight since I figure you didn't eat much while you were gone."

"Oh, I ate plenty, more than enough while we were there. And they had this thing called Shrimp on the barbie. They put prawns on a grill and cooked them that way. But what was strange was having pumpkin soup. Really strange, it was. But we had rissoles on the grill one evening and they were fantastic. It was like meatloaf without the ketchup on it."

Arthur took another bite of dinner and quietly watched Hermione picking at her plate. The beans, along with the parsnips and bread, were gone, but she wasn't touching the fried tomatoes or ham on her plate. He shook his head and tucked back into dinner.

"So, how are the Grangers? Are they settling back in at their residence?"

"They are, slowly but surely. Ron and I were there a couple of nights, just making sure that the wards were up and secure. Mum pitched a fit about her kitchen but that was a small price to pay for keeping them safe."

Molly tutted between bites of her fried tomatoes. "You were gone so long. Why did it take that long? Did you take a holiday while you were down there?"

Arthur watched Hermione continue to push the tomatoes around on her plate. "When they left, they said they were going to Brisbane. They weren't there. They decided it was just too busy for them so they moved down to the Gold Coast and worked at the dental school there. Once we located them there, it was easy to find their residence."

Ron motioned with his fork at his dad. "Things were awkward, at first, but it settled down in short order. After that, we stayed with them while they finished their business there. That was what took so long. Who knew that having a dental practice had so many problems to close up shop? It's nothing like what George has." Ron looked down at his empty plate and switched it with Hermione's. He tucked into what she hadn't eaten.

Hermione looked at Arthur while ignoring Molly. "So while they were still busy with their remaining people, we'd go down to the beach and go swim, or do other things. So, yeah, you could say that we had a bit of a holiday while we were there. It was nice, getting to sleep and do some reading for pleasure, while Ron finished off what was left in their pantry."

A clatter of Ron's fork broke her conversation. "Sorry. I reckon I was hungry."

Hermione shook her head. "Anyway, the cover story for my parents held up. I had told the family and neighbors that they were doing a year abroad, helping with a charity group. It might take a while for their clients to return to their practice but it shouldn't be too difficult."

Molly stood up and turned back to the stovetop. She returned with chocolate pudding and a saucer of clotted crème. "Here you are. I know you two like chocolate pudding for dessert." She cut a generous slice for Ron, ladling a dollop for him before picking up a second plate.

"Oh, no, Mrs. Weasley. I'm full."

Molly gave her a puzzled look. "You never turn down my chocolate pudding."

"I'm not hungry tonight. I'm fine, really."

Molly shook her head and turned to her husband. "A slice for you, Arthur?"

"Absolutely. I never turn down your pudding."

While Molly went back to cutting another slice, Arthur watched Hermione. She was still so quiet. Ron was talking to his Mum between bites of pudding but she was terribly sedate.

"Is there something on your mind, Hermione? You're terribly quiet tonight."

Hermione looked up from the table and smiled wanly. "I guess I'm still tired from the trip. It took a lot out of me."

Ron pulled the plate over and cut another portion from the cake, tucking in almost immediately. "Great pudding, Mum."

Molly turned back to Hermione, sitting on Ron's left. "So now that your parents are home, are you staying with them?"

Hermione looked up and looked to Ron, seeming in a panic. She looked back and swallowed once before finding her voice. "No, I'm not. They aren't that pleased with me right now so I'm not staying with them. I'm going back to London when I leave here tonight."

Molly turned to Ron. "So when are you moving back home, Ron? Your father and I would appreciate your return home. It's been dread lonely without you here."

Ron looked to Hermione before addressing his Mum. "Actually, Mum, I'm getting my things tonight. Harry's offered me a room at Grimmauld Place and I'm taking it. I'm officially moving in with him this weekend."

"And you, Hermione? Are you living there too?"

Hermione bristled at the unspoken allegation. "As a matter of fact, I am. Term starts in about five weeks and being in London will make things easier for me. I can come visit here, or see my parents up in Oxfordshire. There's still plenty to do between now and start of term. I also have to meet with McGonagall in a week to discuss school arrangements."

"Well, that sounds – " Arthur started.

"That's enough," Molly interrupted. "I've had enough of you two playing grown-up and I'm fed up with it. Hermione, I can't control you, but I can put my wand down. You're not moving out, Ron, and that's final. You need to be home with your family instead of out and about, living scandalously."

"Mum?"

"You heard me. You have a place here, at home, with us. You've been gone too long from under our roof and it's time you learn some manners again, young man. You've been most disrespectful these last few months, running off to Australia, when we forbid it and you're not moving out, not until you're ready to be an adult and handle real responsibilities."

"Excuse me, but what do you think you're accusing Ronald about? He's an adult, of age, and been most responsible for the time we've been away. I don't appreciate –"

Molly waved her hands at the young couple across from her. "Rubbish. You are nothing but kids playing grown up. What do you know of responsibilities, or taking care of yourselves? Do you know how to manage a household and the intense demands on your time, day in and day out?"

"Mum, I think –"

Hermione laid her hand on Ron's arm. Ice was scorching the room, all wafting off of Hermione. "No, Ronald, let your mother finish what she has to say. I want to hear how we are kids playing grown up, or that we don't know the first thing about responsibilities, or taking care of ourselves."

"Hermione, stop – " Ron tried to interrupt.

Hermione turned towards Molly across from them. "Please, continue. I want to hear how you think we really are."

Molly blanched but pushed onward. "You know nothing about responsibilities of home, of seeing to the needs of my son here. You can't comprehend – "

Hermione snorted in mock amusement.

" – the financial struggles to make ends meet, or to keep a roof over your head or food on the table."

Hermione's expression hardened even further. "And you honestly think that since we're shagging that I'm being wholly irresponsible and getting pregnant at 18, before I'm even finished school?"

"It's a possibility. We don't want you being burdened yet with children before you're established in a paying job – "

"Oh that's rich!"

"- or having a place you can call a home. Grimmauld place is not a home, not a stretch of the imagination."

"Molly, I think – "

"That's enough," Hermione stood up from the table. "I'm leaving. I won't sit here and continue to be castigated and insulted by your mum, Ron." Hermione walked to the coat rack behind the door and slid into her jacket. She walked to the head of the table and hugged Arthur. The three people remaining at the table watched the young witch walk out the back door into the darkness.

The back door closed with a thud.

Ron turned back to his parents at the table.

Molly looked almost relieved at the situation. "Now, your room is upstairs. I'll have breakfast ready when you get up in the morning."

Ron stood up and put his large hands on the table. "What are you on about, Mum? That was rude of you. Why are you mad at Hermione? Did she do something to irritate you?"

Molly pressed onward. "I'm saying you need to be home, with your family, until you're working and established in a job before taking on too many responsibilities, like a wife and children."

"And you made this decision without asking us? You're barmy tonight."

"Ronald, don't talk to your Mum that way." Arthur spoke up from the end of the table.

Ron looked at his father, slightly abashed, before turning back to his mum across the table. "You're wrong, and chasing away Hermione isn't going to get me to do what you want. I'm getting my things from my room and going back to London, with my best mate and my girlfriend. I'm of age and there's not a thing you can do to stop me, at least legally."

Ron started for the stairs to his attic room. "Ron, don't go!"

He stopped with a foot on the first step. "Why shouldn't I? This was my home, but it's not any longer. My home is with Hermione, and there's nothing you can do or say to stop me from making that happen. And with how you treated Hermione tonight, I'd rather stay with her." Ron looked exhausted and tired. "I can't believe you'd treat her that way, just like you did with Fleur." Ron thudded up the stairs two at a time.

Molly went to cleaning the table while Arthur sat in silence, waiting for the coming row. Sure enough, ten minutes later, Ron came down the stairs with his trunk levitating in front of him.

"Room's clean and empty. Anything I missed can be tossed away or given to a charity shop."

Ron walked to his father sitting there. They conversed quickly and quietly, too quiet for Molly to hear. He then turned to his mum but she had her back to the men. "Leaving? Well, go."

Ron's ears and neck turned a vibrant shade of red. "Fine then. Dad, I'll pop in at work next week to see you."

Ron opened the door and floated the trunk out. The door thudded in finality once again.

Molly continued to work at the sink as seconds ticked away from the clock on the mantle. Arthur sat in his chair at the head of the table, looking at the half slice of chocolate cake. He finished the conversation with himself in his head before coming to a decision, standing up from the table. He glanced once more at the witch at the sink. She was washing another dish, by hand, while the rest lay on the side counter top.

He shook his head in regret before making his way upstairs for bed.

"Was I so wrong, making demands of my boy?"

Arthur stopped and looked into the kitchen. "You thought you knew best and ran with it. It might have worked on Ron last year, before they left. The son we have now is a changed man, one who knows what he wants. And you forced him to choose between you and Hermione. I'm sorry to say, but in a choice, there was no choice. You pushed him too hard and he followed his heart, just like you did. And now, because of your temerity, it might be a while before we see him again."

"But he's just a boy, Arthur."

He snorted in disgust. "A boy? No, my Mollywobbles. That's a man who has seen too much, much too soon, and done things that haunt him. He's not a boy by any stretch of the imagination. He's fought in a war that should have never happened. But it did and now you're pushing him away by making demands that he can't honorably fulfill. So no, not a boy: a man who had to make a terrible choice. I just hope I can get him back to us."

Arthur took another step up the stairs to their bedroom.

"But how can I just let him go?"

Arthur stopped once again. "You do it just like the others. I know you're scared but holding onto him too tight is part of why this happened tonight. Yes, he's acting out but he's a grown man and can deal with his own consequences. But I don't think you have to worry, at least with him seeing Hermione. But you should find a way to apologize to her for how you acted tonight."

Molly turned away from the sink to her husband on the stairs. He saw the red on her ears, a trait her youngest son shared. "I'll send an owl in the morning. But it was because I wanted Ron home, safe and sound."

Arthur shook his head. "And he is home, safe and sound. But home now isn't with us, but that witch he's madly in love with."

Arthur took the stairs to their bedroom, hoping a good night's sleep would help them start afresh with their youngest son the next day. He had some bridges to mend with his youngest son, starting in the morning.