So this next chapter isn't nearly as eventful, and not as long, but it's necessary for the rest of the story.
This'll be 25 chapters plus an epilogue, if all goes to plan.

Thanks for all the lovely feedback, everyone! I'm glad that you liked it!

And in reply to the review asking why I made everyone so old, I'm just going with the epilogue from DH. I felt that it worked better with the plan I have in my head for the whole story, to have it set at this point in their lives. Hopefully you'll agree.

- Silent Incision

Truths

"Gin…listen, please. It was a mistake. I left tonight to tell him that it's over between us, I called it off. I made a mistake, and so I corrected it. Please believe me; I never wanted to hurt him, or anyone. I'm so sorry that I did it in the first place."

"How long?" Ginny knew she was being unfair. She knew that Ron was cheating on Hermione as well, but that didn't stop her from being angry now.

Hermione looked down, her voice barely a whisper "a year."

Her head shot up when she felt Ginny's palm connect sharply with her cheek. "A year? You've been cheating on him for a year? What about your children, for Merlin's sake? What happened to your wedding vows, you promising to love him forever, to remain faithful for always?" Hermione took a step back from the livid Ginny.

If Ginny was this bad, she didn't even want to imagine what the rest of the Weasleys would be like when they found out. "We're friends, right?" she demanded of the younger girl quietly. "Take that into account. Try your best to weigh that more than your blood relation to Ron, and I'll explain things to you." Ginny gritted her teeth but agreed nonetheless.

Hermione turned more lights on and led her friend to the living room, where she perched awkwardly on the edge of the sofa before continuing her story. "You knew that things weren't the best here, for us. I love Ron, I really do, but the truth is…I'm just not in love with him. And I never have been. I thought, when I married him, that I could be, but I know now that that's impossible. Ron just isn't right for me. I can't hold a decent conversation with him, the only things we cantalk about is Quidditch – which I don't care about, or you and Harry! He expects me to be just like your mother, cooking, cleaning, the perfect housewife, the perfect mother. But that's not me. I'm not a housewife, and he doesn't understand that! He can't even begin to comprehend that I may not be happy here."

As Hermione explained her side of the story to her, Ginny felt herself torn. She wanted to be a good sister to Ron, but if she was being honest with herself, she knew that Ron didn't deserve Hermione. She wanted to be a good friend, and under normal circumstances she'd tell Hermione to just divorce the jerk, but this jerk was her brother!

"Don't tell anyone, please. Let me work this out myself. And this may be too hard to ask of you, but please, Gin, try not to hate me for this."

Ginny stood. "I don't hate you. And I won't tell, unless I suspect this is happening again, alright? This is your mess. You clean it up." Her voice wasn't friendly, but not nearly as frosty as before. "Go to bed. Ron will be here soon."

She walked to the fireplace and grabbed a handful of Floo powder, Flooing herself back to her home, a lot on her mind.

Hermione quickly changed into her pyjamas, waving her wand to take the make up off and make her hair go back to what it normally looked like. She crawled into bed, too tired to even consider doing any of the paperwork that she really did need to finish up. And, true to her word, Ron entered the flat not even ten minutes later, singing loudly and off key.

He stumbled, and Hermione winced as she heard a crash signifying Ron hitting the table in their kitchen. "Fuck!" came his voice, slight slurring the words. There was some more unintelligent mutterings coming from various parts of the flat before he stumbled into the bedroom, turning the lights on. "Oh, Herminny. Didn' think you'd be asleep yet" he slurred, walking on unsteady feet over to the bathroom. "how w's th' paperwork?" she heard the sink tap turn on.

"It went well. How was Lav – the boy's night?" upset though she was, she couldn't bring herself to actually ask him straight out about Lavender. Not yet, at least.

"Fun. Harry 'n me went to Diagon Alley." He returned to the bedroom, hit the lights off and crawled into bed beside her.

"Ron?" she demanded, voice sharp. "Where are the kids?"

"Hmm? Oh. Let 'em with Gin. She said she'd keep 'em for th' night." He yawned loudly. "D'me a favour, Herminny? Leave me one o' your hangover relief potions tom'rrow?" he buried his head under the pillow.

"Sorry, we're all out. I haven't had a chance to make more. You'll have to take care of it the old fashioned way." This was, of course, a lie, but Hermione wasn't feeling very hospitable at that point, and would be pleased to see Ron in pain the next morning.

Of course, he didn't even hear her response, having already passed out cold, his snores growing louder and louder. Draco doesn't snore. Said that treacherous part of her brain, which she quickly silenced. It was bad enough that she had to be here now, with a husband who had just returned from shagging another girl; she didn't want to think about the man who she had dumped that very same night.

Hermione awoke the next morning to find Ron still passed out beside her. Not that she was surprised. She set the alarm to wake him in another hour and a half, and wrote him a note telling him that there was no hangover relief potion, but to have fun at work, and then took a shower. She dressed, spelled her hair to look decent, and ate some breakfast. She quickly brushed her teeth and grabbed her work, aparating to the Auror's office.

Ron had also managed to become an Auror, as well as Harry, but because the two of them worked solely in the field, unless they were called in, they didn't need to be there as early as Hermione did as a desk worker.

She opened her scheduler, flipping to the proper date and scanned the notes written down in her neat, precise hand. "Meeting at noon with team six" she named one of the field groups "to brief them on their new task, need to hand in the reports on the Johnson and Burrow's cases." She muttered, closing her book. Today would be very uneventful.

She worked steadily all day, handing in the case reports that were due, briefing the field group on their new assignment – there were rumours of a group of people plotting to become the new generation of Death Eaters, it was their task to find out if these were just rumours, and if not, put an end to it.

She even did the paperwork that she pretended to have done the night before. And when it became too boring for even her to focus, she amused herself with thoughts of a very hungover Ron attempting to get anything done today.

He would be mad tonight; no doubt about it, but Hermione didn't care in the least. He should have thought of buying a hangover relief potion beforehand, instead of just assuming that Hermione would have one ready and waiting.

Hermione glanced at her clock and smiled. Finally the day was over! She packed what things she needed and aparated over to Ginny's before the other girl went crazy from have five young kids around all day.

"Gin? You here?" She called, knocking on the door.

Almost immediately the door was opened by a harassed-looking Ginny, and five children ran at her, two screaming "Mommy! Mommy!" and the other three "Auntie Hermy! Auntie Hermy!" she hugged Ginny's three and scooped her own two kids up, one onto each of her hips, before smiling a bit awkwardly at Ginny. "Sorry about that I didn't realise that Ron wouldn't come and pick up these two little munchkins last night. I should have realised, of course, but I suppose my mind was elsewhere. Hope that they weren't too much trouble."

"Oh no, it was fine, don't worry. I love having them." Both of them were talking in rather stilted tones, trying and failing to pretend as though everything was normal between them, that nothing was the matter.

Hermione turned to leave, thanking Ginny yet again. "Hermione, wait. You were right; I wasn't being a friend last night. I've thought about it, you're right. He isn't the best for you, but I really hope that the two of you manage to work things out. Come find me if you need to talk, alright?" they smiled genuine smiles this time, before Hermione headed off to her flat with her two kids in tow.

She was in the process of cooking chicken for dinner when a grumpy-looking Ron came through the door. "Tough day?" she asked, hiding a smile. She could only imagine how tough it was been on him. Hermione herself never was that big of a partier, and whenever she did, she never drank too much. She could remember a couple occasions when she had become tipsy, but it was never worse than that, certainly never to the extent that Ron had been the night before.

"Why didn't we have any hangover relief?" He snapped at her, opening the fridge and grabbing himself a bottle of Butterbeer.

"I told you last night, Ron." She sighed, turning to face him, the chicken temporarily forgotten. "I didn't have time to go out to Diagon Alley this week, what with work, the children, Harry's party coming up, cooking and cleaning…I simply didn't have time get out. I thought that you would think to look, or at least buy a bottle yourself. At the very least, couldn't you have owled Harry for some of his? Don't expect me to look after everything, Ron. You're a big boy now; you can do some things yourself."

He stared at her, mouth slightly agape. "What's gotten into you today? That time of the month or something?" he took a swig of Butterbeer, giving her an odd glance.

"No. but I'm not your mother, Ronald. Please stop treating me like her. Dinner will be in twenty minutes, make sure the kids are ready." Her voice had dropped dangerously low, developing an icy edge to it with each word.

Ron simply nodded and left without as much as a backward glance.