DISCLAIMER: I do not own any characters. All J K Rowling's genius work.

This story was inspired by wishimight's Bella/Edward story, Dangerous Affections. Unfortunately, that story was pulled down, but I would still like to thank wishimight for creating such a lovely story, and inspiring my own.

Chapter Six – Pain And Suffering

Hermione knocked on the door of the Weasley home, wishing someone would open it quickly before she froze to death out here.

The door flung open, and then—

"Hermione!" Ginny squealed as she saw her best friend come in. "Where have you been? Everyone's been worried about you!"

Hermione wiped her boots on the mat, took off her coat and hung it on a peg. She was still shivering, although the house was warm.

"Are you serious?" she said, her teeth chattering slightly. "I didn't get any calls."

Ginny stared at her friend. "Wh-what? I was joking, Herm. Or, exaggerating, rather. I mean, sure, everyone's been waiting for you to arrive, but… I didn't mean that we thought you were lost or something."

It was Hermione's turn to stare at her friend. "What?"

Ginny shrugged as she led Hermione to the dining room. "Ron just said that you might be a little late from a meeting. That's why we didn't call you."

Hermione gave her a confused stare. "What meeting?"

Before Ginny could answer, they had reached the dining room, and she saw Ron. Stomping over to her boyfriend, she caught his attention by pushing her face into his and glared at him, arms crossed and boot tapping.

"Hello, Mione," he said, a little guiltily. "Glad you're home."

Hermione decided to skip the pleasantries. She asked the question that she had asked Ginny earlier. "What meeting, Ronald?"

The slightly guilty expression on his face made way for a confused expression. "What do you mean, what meeting?"

"Well apparently, the reason that you didn't pick me up from work was that I had some sort of late afternoon meeting."

The guilt and confusion was still there, but they both became more pronounced. "One of your co-workers told me that you had a meeting this afternoon."

Hermione's confusion heightened. "Who?"

He eyed her shiftily, before saying, "Daphne Greengrass."

Harry, who was listening in to their conversation, interrupted. "Daphne Greengrass? The Greengrass? Haughty Slytherin from Hogwarts?"

Ron shrugged as he turned to Harry. "I'd guess so. That's what she said her name was."

Hermione spoke again. "But… there is no Greengrass working with us."

Harry and Ron wheeled around to face her again. Ron had a look just short of patronising on his face, while Harry was slightly worried.

"Oh, come on, Mione," Ron said. "Don't tell me you know all of the names of your co-workers."

That brought Hermione's ire up. "In fact, I do, Ronald, because there are only five of us."

"You never know, Mione," Ron said, trying to sound wise. "I doubt that only you and your co-workers knew there was a meeting this afternoon. Some other departments must have known—"

"That's the point," Hermione argued back. "This entire week, there were no other departments with us. Everyone had an extra week of holidays, while we were sent in early because of the amount of paperwork and how long it usually took to process."

By this time, Harry's concern had aggravated, and everyone in the dining room had turned to watch the argument unfolding, while Ron was trying to come up with more ammunition on his side.

"We had no meeting today, Ron," Hermione said. "We got off at the usual time. And besides, if there was a late meeting, I would have told you, because you're supposed to pick me up in the afternoon."

Ron's guilty look came back, but he shoved it aside and replaced it with a haughty expression. "Just because we're going out, Hermione, that doesn't mean that I can't socialise whenever I want. That I have to make my day around yours—"

"And when have I ever stopped you from socialising, Ronald Weasley?" Hermione shrieked, losing all patience. "When have I ever told you to follow me around like some sort of sick puppy, telling you to do everything my way? Why do you think I didn't call you this afternoon, telling you to pick me up? I thought you'd still be with Charlie and his Romanian friend, socialising."

Ron stared at Hermione, flabbergasted, while Ginny eyed them both, satisfaction on her face. She, too, was sick of Hermione being downtrodden by her arse of a brother.

The other Weasleys (Charlie, Fred, George, and Mr and Mrs Weasley), Harry, and Charlie's Romanian friend watched their argument with varying expressions.

Charlie and his friend were wearing expressions that looked as though they shouldn't be watching the argument. Harry was concerned at the situation, and angry at Ron for his insensitiveness. The Twins were acting like their birthday had come one month early as they watched Ron being pounded, and Mr and Mrs Weasley were just shocked at the argument.

But, as one, all their faces became devoid of any other expression than anger as they heard Hermione's next words.

In tears, she said, "And after four years of being together, you still think we're just 'going out'?"

Running out of the room, headed for the front door, Hermione left, sobbing loudly. Everyone turned to Ron, sour-faced.

First to speak was Ginny. "Congratulations, Ron," she retorted sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

Glaring at her brother, she turned and sprinted in the same direction as Hermione.

"Great job, mate," Harry said, after watching his fiancé run out of the room to follow her best friend. He stalked out of the room. They heard him climbing up the stairs, before a door slammed, and they heard breaking glass from the room.

"We'd follow them and head out," George said. "But if it wasn't for—"

"The food—"

"And the fact that we haven't seen mother dearest in a week—"

"We'd be out," Fred concluded, before pulling out a seat and settling himself, ready to eat. George copied him.

Charlie didn't bother saying a word to Ron, just shook his head and sat down. His Romanian friend (who looked shocked at the display of family arguments) followed suit, and Mrs Weasley snapped out of her shocked daze, and pushing Mr Weasley and Ron into a seat, began serving. One minute later, Ron stood up and ran out of the room, also heading upstairs. They heard a loud slam (all winced as the china on the shelves tinkled at the force), but none stood up.

George and Fred shared a look, before shaking their heads and saying, in mockingly sympathetic tones, "Poor ickle Ronniekins."

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