A/N: Hey, thanks for reading and coming back for more! After a month of fiddling with this chapter, I think it's finally acceptable by my standards(and hopefully by yours as well) and is ready for posting. As a thank you for your continuing support, I present to you an R/Hr moment. Enjoy!

***

"I'm not arguing with you, Ronald," Hermione said in irritation as she walked towards the Burrow.

Ron groaned in frustration. "I'm not trying to argue with you! I just want to talk to you about-"

"I really don't have anything else to say on the subject," Hermione said shortly as she turned to face him. She had only told Ron about her plans to go to Australia yesterday; since then, things between them had been more than a bit tense.

"That's fine, you don't have to say anything. I just want you to listen," Ron countered.

"We've gone over this already! You can't come, period, end of story. Your family needs you, Ron! I'm not about to take you away from them," Hermione tried to reason.

"My family survived just fine without me for nearly ten months, a few more weeks isn't-"

"That was before they lost Fred!" Hermione nearly shouted. "Take a long hard look at your mother, and tell me she'll be just fine without you for a few more weeks," she said softly.

Ron shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah, well what about you?"

"What about me?"

"Like it or not you're part of this family, Hermione. You look at my mother and tell me that you don't think your leaving is going to affect her."

"That's different! I'm like a daughter to her, not her actual daughter. She, and the rest of your family, need the people they're closest to, meaning their immediate family," Hermione said in frustration.

Ron shook his head in disbelief. "You really don't get it, do you?"

"Get what?"

"Being part of this family has nothing to do with blood, it's about being there through thick and thin. It's about relying on one another, trusting the people you care about. You've been there for us and we've been there for you! Yeah, you can argue that there are parts of our childhood that you can't relate to, but that doesn't matter. Mum especially has treated you just like any of the rest of us," Ron said in a pleading voice, desperate to get her to understand.

Hermione pushed back the tears threatening to fall; Ron had hit a nerve she'd tried for years to ignore. "What about fourth year? What about that mess caused by Rita Skeeter that your mum bought into?"

"Wha-" Ron stopped himself as the full meaning of her words hit him. "Merlin, everyone bought into it, Hermione, not just my mum!"

"Yes, but it proves my point," Hermione silenced Ron with a look as he tried to interrupt. "When Percy left, everyone in your family disowned him except for your mum. Regardless of what Percy did, she still treated him like her son. All it took was one article from Rita, one article, Ron, and she disowned me. I'm not holding it against her, but that's the difference between being like a daughter and actually being a daughter. I'm still an outsider to the family in her eyes, intruding on your family's grief."

Hermione turned away, unable to take the look of surprised sadness on Ron's face that looked a hell of a lot like pity; she didn't want his pity or anyone else's, she was just sick of being patronized.

"That was three years ago, Hermione," Ron said softly. "A lot has changed since then."

"I agree," she whispered.

"If you won't take me, then take Harry at least."

Hermione turned back to him. "Why?"

"Because I need to know that you won't be alone, that someone will have your back if you need it."

"I'll be fine on my own, Ron. Besides after everything Harry's been through, he deserves to relax, not to have to follow me all over Australia for Merlin knows how long searching for my parents."

"Sod Harry - You've been through plenty, too," Ron said in disbelief. "You're always doing that, putting everyone else's needs before your own! Be selfish for once in your life!"

Though momentarily rendered speechless, Hermione forced her shaking knees to move and stood directly in front of Ron. "You want me to be selfish?" she asked trying to hold back the wave of emotions threatening to over take her.

Ron stared down at her for a moment before answering, "Yeah, I d-" Hermione didn't wait for him to finish his answer before pulling his mouth down to hers and kissing him fiercely. Ron responded immediately by lifting her off the ground and pinning her against the tree beside her as he moved his lips in rhythm with hers. Hermione refused to let him take control and placed her feet flat against the trunk of the tree and used them and her shoulders to arch her body flush against his; she felt him groan aggressively as she threaded her fingers through his hair and gripped him tighter.

It wasn't until she began to feel dizzy did Hermione break the kiss, but even then it wasn't for air but surprise as one of Ron's hands found its way to her arse and squeezed it roughly. Ron took advantage of Hermione's break in concentration and began nibble his way down her neck. Hermione let her head fall back against the tree and muttered incoherently as each bite toed closer to the thin line separating pleasure and pain.

Unable to stand her pleasure induced restlessness any longer, Hermione pulled Ron's lips back up to hers and explored his mouth again. They were both so angry, so frustrated, Hermione could have sworn she could feel every ounce of every emotion being put into their embrace by both of them. She could hardly remember the last time they'd been so open with each other.

Hermione felt as if every nerve in her body was on fire and when she felt him slide his thigh between her knees she half expected her over stimulated brain to melt into a puddle of gray matter. Instead she turned her head away and gasped desperately for air as her body tensed in a most blissful way. She opened her hazy eyes in time to watch a flash of silver stop in front of her and Ron.

"Ron!" she rasped as she pointed to the glowing weasel. Ron tore his lips from Hermione's neck in time to watch his dad's patronus open its mouth.

"Time for dinner, kids. Hurry back," it said before disappearing.

Hermione leaned her head back against the tree again as Ron let his rest on her shoulder while they both tried to coax their bodies into relaxing. Hermione nearly whimpered at the loss of contact as Ron stepped back and helped her down. Using a simple healing spell on both of their lips and her neck, Hermione was able to erase most of the visual evidence of their snog, while a rather unpleasant cooling charm took care of their flushed faces and lingering arousal.

"We should get going," Hermione said avoiding Ron's eyes. Ron nodded and followed her back from the pond to the Burrow. "You know that didn't change anything. I'm not bringing you or Harry," she said as they neared the kitchen.

"Yeah, I know," Ron said quietly.

Pushing aside the guilt and shame squirming in her gut, Hermione forced a smile and led the way into the crowded kitchen. . . .

Hermione woke with a small start. She hadn't meant to fall asleep, or at least she hadn't thought she'd be able to. Her once steaming half cup of tea was now as cool as the early morning air of the patio.

Her dream, or memory rather, left her with bitter-sweet feelings of excitement and regret. What happened that night confounded her to no end; she'd never envisioned herself being so forward . . . or so cruel.

But he flat out told me to be selfish! she thought angrily.

That's not what he meant and you knew it, her voice of reason whispered.

Allowing self-loathing to consume her mind, Hermione stared dejectedly out at her parents' backyard. Though black as pitch when she first sat down nearly an hour ago, the winter sky was slowly brightening to a dull lilac. Across the yard, perched on the weather-worn fence separating her parents' yard from their neighbors' was a small, grayish-brown bird sleeping with a bit of parchment tied to its leg.

Hermione lifted the protective charm she'd put up to ward off insects and snakes and walked towards the bird. "Aren't you a beautiful little bird? Do you have something for me, or are there more wizards in the area?" she asked softly to wake the bird.

The bird straightened up to nearly double its height and held out its leg with dignity. "I'm afraid I don't have any treats, but I can get some water if you'd like," she said as she untied the letter. Her hands began to shake as she recognized the messy script bearing her name. "Actually, I need you to stick around, I'll have a letter for you in a bit."

After watering the frog-mouthed little bird, Hermione sat back down in her lawn chair and stared at the parchment. Had something happened? Was everyone okay? What was so important that Ron needed to contact her after only four days?

She broke the seal and read:

Dear Hermione,

How are you? Not much has changed here except Bill and Fleur are gone and I'm helping George reopen the shop. How is your search going, do you need anything? We all miss you and can't wait for you to come home.

I'm sorry about how things were when you left. I know you're more than capable of taking care of yourself, but I still worry about you constantly. I didn't mean to drive you away by dogging you about your trip so much, but I don't think I could ever forgive myself if something happened to you because you needed help and no one was there for you. So I guess what I'm trying to say is I'm sorry and that I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me (again).

As far as that night goes, I still stand by what I said, I still think you need to remember your own needs and be selfish every now and then. I don't regret what happened, only that things between us became strained and uncomfortable. I thoroughly enjoyed it and if my memory is correct, you did, too. If for whatever reason I'm wrong, than I apologize and will to avoid putting you in similar situations in the future. (It'll be extremely difficult, but if that's what you want then I'll try my best to respect your wishes.)

I guess that's about all that I needed to say, so I'll let you get back to your search or whatever. Just know that I miss you and love you and can't wait until you return.

Your knight in second-hand armor,

Ron

P.S. If you ever need help being selfish again, feel free to let me know and I'll see what I can do to help.

Hermione felt hysterical; she wanted to laugh, to cry, to find Ron and take him up on his offer. . . .

After finding her notebook and pen, she hastily penned a reply and sent the bird on its way ten minutes later. Feeling a bit overwhelmed, Hermione went back inside and laid down on the couch. She felt so many different emotions, though self-loathing wasn't one of them. She closed her eyes and slept peacefully for the first time in over a week.

***

"So he faked his own death, snuck back into the fight, and killed the psychopath? I have to say, that's pretty ballsy," John said leaning back in his chair.

"You can hardly say Harry actually killed him. He told Voldemort what would probably happen if he tried to kill Harry, but he didn't listen. Harry's spell should have only disarmed him, not reversed Voldemort's killing curse on to himself," Hermione explained.

John shrugged his shoulders. "Dead is dead in the end."

"That's such a lovely thought," Elizabeth said sarcastically. "What happened after that? Did the fighting stop?"

"For the most part. There were a few Death Eaters who regained consciousness after Voldemort's death who put up a fight, but otherwise it ended there."

Hermione and her parents sat in silence, sipping their lemonades. "How are the Weasleys doing?" Elizabeth asked quietly.

"Better by the time I left," Hermione said uneasily. "I'd have come looking for you two earlier, but there were just so many funerals. It seemed wrong to leave without paying my respects. Fred's was the last one."

"We understand, dear," her mother said as she put an arm around Hermione's shoulders. "Well - maybe not to the same extent, but we get it. It helps bring closure."

Hermione was silent for a moment. She'd finally finished her narrative after nearly two days of explaining and dozens of questions, but now she had a question of her own. "Why aren't either of you angry with me?" she asked in confusion.

John rubbed his face warily. "Now don't jump the gun, Mouse. Your mother and I are angry, quite angry to be honest."

"We agreed to move to Australia when you explained the situation last summer. We closed our practice, boarded up our home, we even told our friends we were going on sabbatical and wouldn't be able to contact them," Elizabeth explained. "We did all of that under the impression that you were finally keeping us in the loop, that you trusted us-"

"I do trust you and Dad-" Hermione tried to plea.

"If you trusted us you wouldn't have made us forget about you!" John exclaimed.

"What choice did I have?!" Hermione yelled back. "I had no idea when I'd be back, if I ever came back at all! I couldn't just leave knowing it could be years before I'd ever contact you two again, let alone visit. I wasn't about to let both of you worry about me for . . ." Hermione trailed off at the sight of her mum's pained face.

"First of all, nothing gives you the right to decide how we can and cannot feel," she said with a startling calmness. "That is our God-given right and nothing in the world should be able to take that from us. Secondly, we are your parents. It's part of our responsibility to worry about you, not the other way around."

Hermione wanted to speak, to say the words screaming in her mind, but her body had gone numb at her mother's words.

"You have to understand, that as a parent, nothing is more important than the life and well-being of their child. What happens to us isn't important. You were going off to war and we wanted to help you in any way, even if that meant going into hiding to protect you and your friends. But to not even allow us to think about you and worry, to pray for you even, it was just cruel."

Elizabeth paused and took a deep breath to steady her voice again before taking Hermione's hands. "But as hurt and angry as your father and I are, it doesn't even come close to how relieved and happy we are that you're okay and your war is over."

Hermione looked up through watery eyes in confusion. "Wha - I don't understand."

"No, I suppose you don't," John said as he put an arm around her shoulders, "and you probably won't until you have a kid of your own. People make mistakes, Mouse. The anger will dissipate, but love - that's constant, that's something you can always count on from us."

Hermione opened and closed her mouth several times before giving up and leaning into her dad. "I'm sorry," she whispered when she found her voice again.

"We know, dear. You did it because you thought it was the right thing to do to protect us. That's what we taught you to do, but please, next time just let your father buy a gun and let us protect ourselves," Elizabeth said frankly.

"Have either of you ever even held a gun before?" Hermione asked, looking up in surprise.

"We have a few patients who enjoy firearms a bit too much for their own good who have taken us onto their property to teach us city-folk how to handle a gun - after we taught them a few things about dental hygiene of course," John said with a smile. "I've developed a bit of a soft spot for Mr. Finley's .308 Winchester personally. Your mum on the other hand seems to favor smaller guns, not that it matters since she has better aim than nearly everyone we've shot with. She has some of the steadiest hands in the country."

"Oh don't look so surprised," Elizabeth said in response to her daughter's gaping mouth. "You know, I had this nagging feeling that I needed to be extra careful and protect myself, but I couldn't think of a reason why. And that's not the only one I had. On your birthday I made your favorite cake but I couldn't understand why I picked one your father's and my busiest weeks at work to spend two hours in the kitchen making dessert just for the two of us."

"It was good though," John said with a grin.

"That's not the point," she said to John before turning to Hermione. "But enough about us. I want to hear more about you and Ronald. I think I've been more than patient."

Hermione stared at her mother for a moment. "I get what you're doing, Mum. We talk about something unpleasant like my night at Malfoy Manor and then you ask me about my relationship with Ron, hoping that I'll be more than willing to talk about anything else as long as it's more pleasant than the previous conversation."

Elizabeth smiled with a sigh. "And here I thought you took more after your father when it came to reading people. But you have to admit I have been patient - and I'd like to know how you got those scrapes on your arm since you didn't attribute them to that last battle."

Hermione shift uncomfortably; she had forgotten about her run-in with the Sydney Ministry. "Okay, okay. Ron and I are . . . we're kind of together. It's complicated what with everything that's happened and me leaving. . . . We didn't part on the best of terms, but we're working through it via the post I got from him this morning."

"That's good. He values his relationship with you enough to talk about it across continents," John said.

"I suppose you saying it's complicated is code for I don't want to talk about it," Elizabeth guessed.

Hermione just smiled.

"Fine then, your arm?"

Grimacing slightly, Hermione retrieved yesterday's paper from the coffee table and opened to the third page before laying it in front of her parents.

"The shooting near the airport in Sydney, what about it? It was drug related and . . ." her father trailed off. "Are you saying you were involved in this?!"

Biting her lip, Hermione forced herself to speak. "I was eating lunch at the diner when the fight broke out," she said softly.

Elizabeth shook her head in disbelief. "You just survived a war only to get shot at half way around the world?"

Hermione rolled her shoulders and re-told her adventure the same way she had told the auror. An hour and several questions later found the Grangers walking around town introducing Hermione as Monica's and Wendell's god-daughter, Mia.

"Well he certainly was pleasant," Hermione said sarcastically.

"Don't mind Rudy," John said. "He still thinks we over charged him for his root canal last month."

"I'm sure he didn't enjoy the root canal itself much either," Hermione countered.

"Oh I know he didn't," Elizabeth said with a smile. "He had his wife call our office the next day to complain about the pain he was in. He wouldn't have been in any pain at all if he hadn't flinched every time I put a different tool in his mouth and complained about how long it was taking every five minutes."

"He's your mum's favorite patient," John said with a grin.

"I can tell," Hermione said. They continued walking around the town, talking about nothing in particular, but avoiding anything of any meaning. Hermione was okay with that, she wasn't really listening to the conversation, only nodding and agreeing when necessary. Her focus was on not what her parents were saying, but on how they interacted with each other.

As she had progressed through Hogwarts, and attacks on the school became common place, Hermione had noticed a disheartening change in her parents. Though none of the changes were extraordinary, they were numerous; it was just a lot of little things. It had been years, for instance, since they'd told her stories of memorable patients, the last time being the summer before fifth year.

The most noticeable was the increasing amount of fights, usually involving her and whether or not she would be allowed to return to Hogwarts. Her dad would argue Hermione was capable of making the decision herself, while her mum continually suggested enrolling her in secondary school and ignore the existence of the magically world all together. Things had been tense between Hermione and her mum for that reason . . . and between her mum and dad.

So when Hermione came home nearly a year ago and explained the state of the wizarding world and her plans to skip her last year of school in favor of joining a rebellion that would likely end her life, she wasn't at all surprised when the fighting came to a head. Both her parents were furious with her, her father because he felt betrayed by her lack of what he called judgment and her mother because she had ignored her doubts and allowed Hermione to continue at Hogwarts.

In the end Hermione was able to reason with them and help them accept her decision and accept her plan to move to Australia and assume new identities. Though she hadn't told them, altering their memories had always been part of the plan; a couple constantly arguing and calling each other by the wrong names would be as noticeable to locals as leprechaun gold to a goblin. A well adjusted, carefree pair on the other hand would hardly cause a stir.

Sure it was wrong on a moral level as her mum had pointed out, but Hermione stood by her decision and accepted the guilt that came with it. Her parents were safe and happier than she'd seen them in years, that was all she needed know to be sure she'd made the right choice. She'd rather feel guilt about that than guilt for losing them to Death Eaters because she'd put them in harm's way.

"- Mouse?"

Hermione looked up at her dad. "Sorry, I guess I was off in my own little world there for a while."

"Your, um-" he did a quick look around to make sure they weren't over heard, "Your mum and I were wondering if you wanted to come to the office with us tomorrow and help Alana update the filing system."

"I suppose I don't have anything else to do tomorrow," Hermione said.

"Don't sound so enthusiastic about it, dear," Elizabeth said with a smile. "The time will go by quickly and Alana is about as friendly as they come."

Hermione grimaced, "I should probably come up with a story to explain why I'm here and what I've been doing the past twelve months then shouldn't I?"

"Probably, but don't worry too much," John said, "she likes to talk, so just ask her about the town or her favorite type of music and you'll be fine."

With a forced smile, Hermione said, "I guess I can manage that. I think I still might remember how to act like a muggle."

***

A/N: So that's it for now. That's the last chapter I felt I needed to write before the dysfunctional couple meet . . .

Thanks for reading and reviewing if you do!