DISCLAIMER: YOU KNOW, I DON'T OWN HARRY POTTER AND THE UNIVERSE THAT JK ROWLING HAS CREATED. I JUST LOVE TO REVEL IN IT.

It was a hectic night at the office. But then again it always was—well at least around the twentieth floor which was most dedicated to emergencies that border the bizarre, even by magic standards. St Mungo's been a well-respected establishment in England, and was a key contribution to the war efforts. That day was a dark day indeed, many healers had gasped in sadness at their patients. They were all children, students attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. They were just students that were way too young, too young to have fought in a war. They were too young to have experienced such death and violence. Many did not make it that day.

Draco walked through the crowded halls, heading to his office. It was a tiring night for him in particular. Seven patients in the morning, nine appointments and he had to assist a pregnancy a few hours ago. Luckily though, his shift was ending, he just needed to get to his desk and finish up before departing.

He probably needed to change as well. He walked around now with his normal cardigan shielded by a white coat with his name tag over his heart.

After the Second Wizarding War, a lot of his friends had gotten locked up in Azkaban as War Criminals. He on the other hand was fortunate—he and his mother at any rate. Their last minute interventions during the final days of the war were instrumental in allowing Harry Potter to defeat the Dark Lord. He guessed he had both Potter and the Weasleys to thank, for their testimonies during the trials.

One of his orderlies, a young woman with gold hair ran toward him, juggling a few sheets of paper and folders in her hands. 'Off to have a good night out, Anna?' he said as the nurse passed by.

She cracked a smile but before completing her pass she stopped her superior with as much awkward courtesy as possible. 'Last minute patient, Healer Malfoy,' she informed him as she handed a folder from her collection. When he began to inform her that his shift was over, she rounded back to him. 'It's Priority Ultra, sir.'

Draco nodded and looked through the pages. Thirteen cuts, four of which are curse bound, Draco sighed, expressing his annoyance. 'Okay, Ms Cronin. Go home, I'll deal with it.'

-=H=-

'You're going to get yourself killed there, Weasley.' Draco hissed as he applied the necessary potion onto the affected area on the Auror's back and arms. At least the wounds not bound by a dangerous curse.

Ron sat on the bed with his shirt off, revealing the many scars and wounds, fierce and red, shouting at him. Though some were definitely old scars, there had come some new additions. Malfoy shook his head vigorously at the intense work ahead of him.

It had become almost routine now and not even just Weasley. Frequently he got Aurors from all over England coming in after a long and tiring mission. Yet it was usually two thirds of the Golden Trio—Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley that were always in need of some medical attention in one form or another.

Last week was actually also Ronald whom was disarmed by Death Eaters so used his own body to shield a muggleborn child from some nasty curses.

Potter had suffered a minor concussion but was fine in the end.

As per procedure, Draco also read the mission statements, at the very least the ones that were not classified by the Department of Law Enforcement. He had to admit, they made for rather good reading material, little Scorpius certainly liked them.

This time, Weasley was back…took all the hits and safeguarded his squad.

The Dynamic Duo of Potter and Weasley pinned against an array of thirty Wizard mercenaries from Bulgaria. Apparently when they all fired at the same time, Weasley pushed Potter aside and took every hit they threw at him, giving Potter the time to incapacitate the mercenaries, but left Ron in a near catatonic state for six hours.

Harry had apparently already received some attention and was cleared up around two hours ago by medical superiors.

'Just stitch me up, alright, Malfoy.' I get enough scolding from Herm—Ow!' he recoiled away. The healing potion started to take effect and fizz up around the wound which gave a stinging, violent hiss.

Draco pressurised one of the open wounds, blood began to seep out of it. 'Shit, Weasley, what did you get hit with?' Ron was hissing. The pain was getting more and more painful. 'The curse is not letting the wounds close. I need to counter the curse but I need to know what it was.'

'I…' Ron's body was starting to spasm but he was doing everything in his power to hold it in, to ignore it. 'It was a new curse…the mercenaries were headed by a former Unspeakable. She discovered a new curse. Guess I was the practice dummy.'

Draco examined the wounds. They were reddening, blood dripping from them like tears. 'Can you repeat what she said?'

The red haired Auror thought for a while, closing his eyes. He told him that she spoke one word which was along the lines of Perdo, '…or something or rather. But I've never heard of it before.'

But it looked like Draco did. His lidless eyes seemed to gear towards it. He was afraid?

'What…you can't do anything about it?' Ron asked. 'If so…Hermione is gonna kill me.'

'No, no, no…' Draco stood back, his hands clutching his chin as he thought about the situation. 'I believe I can counter the curse. You might not even need stitches afterwards.' He took his wand—a replacement for the wand he lost to Harry the day he escaped Aunt Bellatrix's clutches before the final battle. 'Do you enjoy getting yourself killed every other week, Weasley?'

Ron chuckled slightly. Then he eased up and looked to the roof. Draco pointed the tip of his wand close to the first wound on his right shoulder blade. 'You probably never had this problem, Malfoy…' Draco gave him a vial of pumpkin juice which he then drank in one gulp. 'Ever since I was a kid, I've been defined by my family. It's something that I could never escape from. All of my goals, all of my insecurities…all of my fears could be traced back to my family.'

'Well…I think I could relate.'

Ron disagreed. 'You wouldn't understand, Malfoy.'

Draco scoffed. 'Don't I?'

'Yeah, you were an only child.' Ron paused to gasp a breath from the pain. 'You were the whole world to your parents.' Draco watched as the Auror's eyes distanced out. 'I wasn't much to mine. In fact I think I was an accident.'

'Trust me, Weasley, all the births in your family are accidents.' He was sure he was meant to burst in anger at Malfoy's remark. But Ron was just too tired. Malfoy cringed, 'I think the counter curse is having an effect on your head a bit. Natural, if I'm not mistaken.'

'No…I'm not being completely stupid.'

The Healer squinted. 'It's more of a medical thing,' he informed the dazed Auror.

Ron sighed, looking at the light hovering above them. Its rays, dancing in a stream of gold, reminded him a bit of Hogwarts, strangely enough. 'When…when I was around six years old, Fred and George let slip that Mom had been hoping, praying for a daughter…she got me instead. They said that the disappointment on her face was something they'd never seen before. Then Ginny came along. Oh mom's face lit up…the way she looked at her, I wanted that.'

'You felt resentment towards her, towards your sister?'

Ron smiled, a little too light headed. 'No—you'd think that, but no. When I heard this news…I saw Ginny in a whole different…light.' He smiled, pointing absentmindedly at the lightbulb above. 'She was my mother's jewel…her life, and I took it upon my…self to protect her with every fibre of my being.' Again he giggled. 'Like she actually noticed or cared...like any of them noticed or cared.'

'Look,' Healer Malfoy started, 'I'm not a Therapist, Weasley—'

The doped up Auror did not seem to care much about his healer's interruptions and continued to reminisce. As he talked, it reached a part where his emotional depths increased, the currents became rapid, and causing reaction that was the result of the counter curse and an increased emotional stress. 'I didn't mind the hand-me-downs,' he said. 'What hurt me, however, was that it took little effort to think it over; me or Ginny— no competition whatsoever.'

Finally he was done. It took all night but he was finally able to lift the curse on his wounds which then began to close of their own accord.

'But I didn't care, you know,' Ron told him, helplessly smiling. His eyes began to flicker. 'Family is family and that's why I fight…body and soul to the cause…fam…family…' soon he was asleep on the medical bed. He would be out for only a few minutes and he'd actually be up on an all-time high. Probably have no recollection of their nightly conversation.

Draco was able to get a young nurse to wait for him. As according to Mr Weasley's request and not tell Mrs Weasley about her husband's predicament. 'But don't you think she should be…you know…informed that her husband's in bad condition?' asked the nurse.

Healer Malfoy laughed, 'Are you new here?'

She answered 'Yes. I was an intern in Australia before moving to the UK division.'

'Well, there is a thing you need to know about the Weasleys,' he said, 'Ron and Hermione Weasley in particular.' He poured himself a coffee from the machine in his office and took a nice sip, offering the nurse some. She politely refused. 'The Weasleys are notorious in being quite stubborn and aggressive people—loyal and honourable? Yes...but aggressive.'

'Bad experience with Ron?'

Again, Draco chuckled. 'Both of them, actually,' he said. Then softly, he continued as it dawned on him. 'I was quite a jerk to them at Hogwarts. I hated Hermione and her kind...muggleborn. Ron hated me…for hating her.' He took a seat at his desk and began to flip through his paperwork. 'Honestly, I actually thought they were an item in third year, the way they bickered like a married couple. Gross.'

The nurse blushed. 'Actually I heard it was quite romantic.'

Draco studied her for a moment, 'Been reading Luna's biographies, eh?'

She shrugged, trying to hide her crimson cheeks under her wavy hair. 'I thought they were insightful…I mean if you read them they sort of play out like some sort of fantasy series. I could honestly see them turning into films.'

'Films, is that a muggle thing?' he asked though he already knew the answer. He began to sign a few of the sheets, not overly reading into them seeing as they were all about Auror Ron Weasley. 'I think I've been punched by both of them at least once. I know Hermione hit me in third year. So trust me, I do not want to be the one to anger her in any way now.…and Ron's probably punched me a hundred times himself…can't recall.'

She hid a small smirk, 'Repressed?'

'Shut up.'

-=O=-

Malfoy returned home quite late, almost morning. Astoria was not particularly pleased but then again she could hardly be surprised, especially after questioning him. 'Where have you been?'

Draco shrugged as he removed his coat, strained face with the pain of tired and overworked muscles. 'Sorry,' he started. 'Weasley,' was all he said, placing his equipment on the coat hook and wardrobe.

'Ah,' she definitely understood that and nodded with a knowing smile bordering along the lines of sympathy and amusement. Draco then moved to join his wife on their bed. She'd been reading a book of some sort but he could not read the cover as he had already felt the dizzy allure of sleep.

He kissed her on the forehead as she discarded her book onto the oaken bedside table. Astoria then snuggled into her poor husband and fell asleep in his long awaited arms. But for some reason, Draco could not follow in her easy slumber.

There was a lot that Ron Weasley did not know about him...his upbringing. Ron may not have received exclusive or even a fair amount of love, but he was in the presence of a warm family. Love was practically emanating from their blood, and it caused a great deal of envy during their...well ever since he'd heard his mother told him stories or when she'd take him shopping around Diagon Alley.

How they all managed to smile with each other? He wanted that.

Ron has no idea what he's got. What he's always had...everything.

The sun, slowly rising outside his window, he sighed and mentally cursed himself.

-=O=-

Shit, shit…shit...Shit! Ron ran outside the building before apparating to London station. From there it was a few minutes' walk home. Not surprising, he found Hermione firmly seated on a chair in the living room. Her hands grasping the arms as she glared, fiercely at him. Shit!

'Where the hell have you been?' Ooh there was such hostility in her tone, it was scary.

Ron scrambled for words but just found himself shrugging. 'M sorry, Hermione…I just got caught up at work. The last case sort of had us chase this mad wizard with anger management issues…'

Hermione stood up, arms crossed as she inspected him. Ron took a few steps closer to her. 'Is that all?'

'It's all that matters,' he offered, then raised his arms for her. 'I mean…I'm home. Don't I get points for tha…'

He stopped himself when he spotted her eyes training his arm until it reached his wrist. The St Mungo's ID wristband, he had left it on his left arm. 'You were admitted to St Mungo's?'

'Look it was only a scratch, nothing that hasn't happened before, love.'

Hermione covered her gasps behind her hands. 'You mean this has happened before?!'

Ron sighed. He had tried so many times to spare herself the worry, and spare himself the long explanations trying to lighten the situation a bit. 'Look,' he took her in an embrace, feeling her warmth and they both released their breaths into each other. 'I'm safe. Harry's safe…it was just a job and we completed it.'

'Just tell me…tell me how many times you've been admitted because of work?'

'This week?'

She scowled at him but that lopsided grin just did it for her. She chuckled and gave him a chaste kiss on the lips. Slowly yet rather subtly, the kiss had transitioned into one of passion. She guessed it was kind of their thing. 'Why do you make fun of me?'

'Hah…you make it too easy, love.'

They made their way up stairs to their bedroom. But that night they didn't make love as usual. No Ron was content with just laying down on their king sized bed, under the warmth of the covers and each other's love. Hermione snuggled herself inside his neck and relayed to him the highlights of the two days he'd been away.

The Ministry was a chaotic place at times. Ron often wondered how his wife could handle such a lifestyle but then remembered who she was to begin with. She was Hermione Jean Granger first and foremost— War hero like him, working reformer of the Wizarding World and self-proclaimed and proven, most brilliant Witch in history. When Ron looked at his room, at the memories portrayed in the pictures and photos, he sighed. Looking down at the sleeping form in his arms, her hair, and her smile, she was so beautiful.

Of all the times he'd felt dissatisfied with his life, with the way things turned out during his time at Hogwarts and before, his place within his family, within his own life. He would never take any of it back…they all led him here, to her.

-=O=-

Author's Note: Just a little one shot. I had a rather vague idea of what I was writing. In fact I believe I was half asleep when I wrote it seeing as it was at around 12pm and I was just finished homework and V honestly does nothing.

I honestly don't get anyone that say that Ron doesn't deserve to be with Hermione. When they put that interview with Rowling, how she said she regretted that pairing, I don't believe that was what she meant. It was in jest and to tell you the truth, that pairing made so much more sense than any of the other pairings. Love is a mysterious thing and as far as I've read, those two were mad for each other. I think that the dynamic between Ron and Draco should have actually been explored more. I mean they're both Purebloods but with different views on the world. Close to polar opposites and would have made for interesting reading.