A/N: My apologies for the tardiness of this chapter, but Ron was quite hesitant to talk about this mission. But now that he opened up, along with Hemera, the story should finish sooner than later. - DG

Ron stepped through the partition into St. Mungo's and walked quietly towards the lifts. He could have gone to a pub and gotten pissed, like he wanted, but Hermione would rip his bollocks if he showed up for duty tonight pissed. Then again, she'd also understand, even while ripping him a new one. No, Harry and Hemera needed him tonight, even if they didn't really expect anything to happen. Blown to hell already happened today but spending the night in the hospital with the two of them, rather than at home, shagging his wife seven ways to Saturday did nothing for his cocked up mood.

But then he also needed the time to sort out how everything was blown to hell on the mission – and also write up his reports for the Wizengamot debriefing and also shielding Hemera as much as possible for fucking up months ago. Did she deserve it, when she accidentally facilitated the problem? Fuck if he knew.

The doors to the lift opened and he stepped in, watching the doors close before a pasty pale hand shove in the closing doors. Draco Malfoy stepped in, huffing and puffing in his orange apprentice potioneer robes, carrying a tray of corked vials.

"Shit. Just the last fucking person I want to see." Ron punched the lift button to close it. Any extra time with the ferret would be too much, especially today.

"It's nice to see you too, Weazlebee. Been rolling in a campfire again, by the looks of your robes? Or are you so piss poor that you have to resort to hand-me-overs from the back of a charity shop?"

"Go fuck yourself, Malfoy." Ron punched the 4 button and tried to ignore the sod in the lift with him.

"No thanks." The lift stopped and the doors refused to open. "Who pissed in your porridge, Weasley?"

"Like you give a shit, Malfoy." Ron kept his eyes forward, to keep from punching Malfoy in the face and breaking his nose again.

"I actually don't but since I work here and you're in the bloody lift with me, I thought I'd ask." Malfoy punched the button and the lift moved again. "I'd almost thought you'd have been civil now, being an Auror and the poster child of the Ministry. Guess the Weasel will never change his antics."

Ron punched the stop button again. "You really want to know, Malfoy? You're not just being a wankstain?"

"I asked because I was curious, Weasley. If your head is so far up your ass, - "

"People died today because of my decision, alright? Glad you asked now? Now piss off." Ron punched the button again and the lift was moving.

"That's fucked up, Weasley."

"Yeah, it is."

"So why are you here? Potter get hurt?"

"Yeah, he did. So did another Auror. Harry saved my life." The lift doors opened and a medi-witch stepped in with her clipboard and wand tucked behind her ear. She was busy scanning her parchment orders to pay any mind to the two men in the back of the lift.

"That's terrible," Malfoy whispered and Ron nodded once.

The lift opened and the medi-witch stepped out first, followed by Malfoy. "Look, I am sorry it went sideways today."

Ron stood there looking at Malfoy as the lift doors closed before moving up 2 more floors to where he needed to be. He stepped out and leaned back against the white tiled wall, ruminating about Malfoy being civil to him. "Maybe it's a full moon," Ron cheeked to himself before making his way back to Harry's room, "or maybe Ginny rattled his wits when she punched him." Moments later, he was slipping into the room and stopping, seeing Hermione's walnut wand pointed at his face. "The smell of cooked liver makes you vomit."

She lowered her wand and Ron looked across the room. Harry was asleep in his bed along with Hemera in another bed on the other side of the room. Aurora was awake next to her, with a magazine open on her lap.

"Harry insisted so the staff expanded the room so they could both be in here. Professor Sinestra agreed to it." Aurora Sinestra looked up from her magazine, smiled, and went back to it. "No one has come by and it's been very quiet. I'm not complaining because I got much done."

Ron dropped his satchel down, hearing it thud in the quiet room. "Robards said I had to stay on for the night, so if you want to head home, go ahead."

"Ron, you've been going since yesterday morning. You need your rest, too. I'll stay so you can get a kip."

"There is no one else," he said quietly. "Besides, I'm so wound up right now I doubt I can sleep. So why don't you head home and get some sleep? If I'm lucky I'll get relieved at midnight and come home to fall on you."

The two shared a long look before Hermione nodded once and started packing her satchel of parchment. "I'll pick up takeaway so if you do come home tonight, it's in there for you." She finished with the last bundle of parchment and kissed him once on the cheek, blushing slightly for being immodest in front of the other witch. "Try to rest tonight if you can." Hermione squeezed his hand for a moment before leaving the room without a look back.

Aurora slipped from the bed, leaving Hemera still asleep. "Now that you're back, I think I am going to go back to Hogwarts, at least for the night. It's been a very long day." She sighed. "I.. I have to have time to think, too."

Ron saw the grim look on the professor's face and recognized it immediately. "Would you like for me to escort you to the fireplace?"

Aurora looked over the sleeping witch in her bed, including glancing at the privacy curtain pulled between the beds. "Where is it?"

"There's a room next to the waiting room, off the main hall. You have to get the powder from the medi-witch station but it can take you back to Hogwarts."

Aurora pulled her wand and smiled. A large snake, but with considerably different markings, erupted from her wand. 'Minerva, would you mind if I used your office fireplace to return to the school tonight? Mr. Weasley is on duty tonight so I can return to my quarters inside the castle and rest.' The snake slithered towards the wall and vanished. "I'll wait until I hear a reply before I leave. Otherwise, I have to go to the Hog's Head to return and I'd rather not walk alone tonight."

"Would you like an Auror escort?"

"Not if I can help it. I need some time alone, to think, and drink a bit." The quiet witch sitting next to the bed looked on the occupant in the bed with affection. Ron knew that look well. "She admitted she messed up, but honestly, I can forgive that, because she also fixed it before I knew about it. I'm beastly because she didn't tell me that it happened." Ron watched Aurora pull a handkerchief from her sleeve and dab her eyes. "What else hasn't she told me?" She went silent. "Has Hermione ever hurt you like that, where your trust was rattled and you're questioning everything?"

Ron looked down and saw the mostly invisible canary scars on his hand. He felt his face and neck flush some, hoping that the Astronomy professor didn't notice. "Yeah, and it was something completely stupid but I cocked up things with her for months in how I reacted." He looked up and saw that she was nodding in some recognition. "And it was 'cause I was jealous and fearful." He took a deep breath. "I'd not make the same mistake now, at 25 that I did at 16. I have mucked up so much, and cocked up things almost permanently, more than once, over things that she didn't know bothered me. But somehow, she forgave my jealous arse."

"So you think I should forgive her, for what happened?"

"If she was dosed, I would, unconditionally. But since it's been months, it's hard to know for absolute certainty. But you said it yourself: people hit on her. I mean, she does nothing for me physically, because I'm arse over elbows for Hermione and have been for yonks, but if she's that attractive to witches that they shove their knickers in her pockets and offer her room keys for the night, resisting those temptations are chronically difficult. Harry knows that problem all too well; Ginny too. They're the ones who get people shoving room keys and knickers in their pockets, constantly. They get the unwanted attention, from witches who want to bed them, and blokes who want to be them – and vice-versa. As far as forgiving the other for making a mistake, or accepting their contrition, that's your decision."

"How'd you handle the one from school? I remember those months when Hermione was sullen, silent, and obviously miserable."

Ron bit his tongue to keep from mentioning that dying makes things a little more focused, a little less petty towards friends. "Well, I really didn't, at least for a long time. But then the war happened, things happened during it, and I realized it was all jealous bullshit, on both of our parts. She snogged me, shit happened, and the other rubbish, I eventually realized, was unimportant."

"You're not who you were in school, Mr. Weasley."

"Well, the Aurors helped me grow up and realize what's important and what's not. Hermione is important. Petty jealousy isn't. But then, I'm not you and I'm not the one who is humiliated by these events and injured from them."

"You seem to have gained some wisdom, Mr. Weasley."

Ron smiled and levitated the chair over to him and sat down. "I have a remarkably brilliant best friend who taught me to listen more. And she's right."

"After what you heard, would you forgive her?"

Ron glanced at the two in their own beds, separated by the screen. Harry was sleeping like the dead, so far gone he wasn't even snoring. Hemera, he noticed, wasn't asleep but let her remain as she was. "Yeah, because we've all done stupid shit and fucked up things with our partner, whether at work or at home. Having that forgiveness from them, and for them, is how you keep from going completely mental doing this job. I'm sure there have been days when she's come home and had a terrible mission and can't talk about it, so she needs you in other ways."

Aurora kept her features still but nodded.

"And you're bursting at the seams to talk with them about all the shite you saw on the case and can't, because you've not been debriefed yet with the Directors but you otherwise are going to explode if you don't do something and sometimes, that something is making a bad choice. Hell," Ron saw Hemera smirk slightly before going stoic again, "I've come home many times from a mission, feeling like I could fight everyone wandless, with my bare hands, and instead, because Hermione understands me, and what I need to cope with how mental this job is, gives me everything I want and need." Ron flushed again and Aurora smiled, slightly. "She's one of the reasons I am still somewhat sane from doing this fucking job. I can't tell her all of the grotty details, or how many people have died by my wand, but I can sleep at night, and stay out of the bottle because I have friends and family who help me tremendously."

"So you're saying,"

"I'm saying talk with Minerva – Headmistress McGonagall," Ron corrected himself, "and maybe Professor Sprout and some others and have their thoughts. Merlin knows that all of us in the Auror Corps have had our share of problems, but we're much better off now because of the lessons taught by Mad Eye Moody and Tonks. Do I think Hemera's worth it? Well, if this is a once-off, and that's all that happened," he knew it was but had to mention the doubt for Aurora Sinestra's benefit, "then yeah, I do. I'd forgive her. Merlin knows she talks about constantly, and makes a bunch of us sick. Then again, way I natter on about Hermione gets some of the guys – Hemera too – throwing their rubbish at me over it."

An ethereal cat burst into the room and skidded to a halt by the door. "My fireplace is open when you're ready to return, Aurora. I'll have a wee dram awaiting you when you arrive, as well. And Mr. Weasley, please look after them tonight. Hemera is precious to all of us at Hogwarts."

"I'll do my best," He said as they watched the cat vanish.

"Now, I will take your leave and return tomorrow. I realize you probably won't be here but either way," She reached her hand out to shake his, "Thank you, for everything. I love her and I like her, but I have much to think about and consider before we talk again." Aurora picked up her bag and put two books into it. "If she wakes later and asks, please tell her."

Ron watched as Aurora went over to the witch in the bed and kissed her gently once on the forehead and then whispered softly in her ear for a few moments. Ron went to act like he was checking on Harry to ignore what was being said and heard a second, louder kiss from the other side of the dividing curtain before Aurora put her head around the side. "Once again, Thank you, Ron, for saving her life." He went to the middle and watched the quiet witch depart the room."

"So you're staying," a groggy voice croaked behind him.

"Yeah, I'm on duty until half six, so I was told. Hopefully someone will relieve me earlier than that."

"Rubbish to that, Weasley."

"Yeah, I know. Barking." He pulled the chair in between the two beds and settled down, pulling the curtain back so he could keep tabs on Harry and Hemera. "And he'll sleep like the dead for a few more hours, probably. For some reason, he sleeps best in this bloody place."

"So where's Hermione? I thought she'd be in here with you, keeping you company. You've said she hates that you aren't home most nights."

"She went home for the night, 'cause I asked. She'd have stayed if I'd asked, but I needed some time to sort the shite in my head after the day we had."

"It's eating you alive right now, isn't it?" She moved some and grimaced. Ron stood and pulled a spare pillow from the small table and propped it behind her neck, elevating her some in the sterile bed. "And you're thinking that some different decision, even if it wasn't yours to make, would have kept those three alive, even if there would have been problems later.

"Yeah, I reckon so. Those kids died because of my plan, my decisions." Ron sat down in the chair, squirming to find some position of comfort on the wooden chair.

"It wasn't your decision, Weasley. It was mine, and Robards, and that fuckstrumpet. Those kids knew what they were getting into the day they signed their contracts."

He rubbed his face hard, trying to staunch the flow of emotions boiling over inside his heart. "They were kids, Hemera. She wanted to kill you, me and Harry, and everyone else, because she felt slighted for not being entitled to that coveted promotion. She refused to do the job, expecting to slide into it. Instead, she manipulated people, blackmailed Cavendish, tried to blackmail you and me, and decimated the Auror department – all because she got her knickers in a twist over having to work hard for the promotion."

"You do realize, don't you, that she wanted what you and Potter and the other Aurors have, which was walking in, doing what appeared to be the minimum, no hassles, and having the job and being promoted in short order. She presumed that it was just that easy but she hadn't seen the hazing, the torments you went through, all of the bullshit, along with all of the cocked up things you endured to earn your badge. She saw the rewards and benefits, as well as the perception that you made full Auror entirely too young. She didn't see all of the grotty assignments you volunteered for, or the missions where you were gone for weeks and months at a time, away from Harry, and Hermione, or how much work you actually put in to earn your badge, and respect, in the department."

"Did you think Harry and I skated in without earning it?" Ron asked and saw Hemera stifling a yawn. He yawned too and waited four beats before hearing Harry yawn slightly in his sleep.

"Yes, but they were very special circumstances, for all of you who signed up after that bloody day. Merlin knows, and Kingsley too, that you and Potter did everything humanly possible, and the improbable much of the time, along with Longbottom and Finnegan, to bring the rest of the sods in. It wasn't your fault at all that the buggers hid so well and that it took all of us 5 very long years to bring the last of them in. You and Potter and Longbottom did it out of duty. Finnegan seems to be the one who actually likes what he does, which is why he has the job he does."

"You think we had it easy?"

"No. Those first two years were the worst of my career, as far as sleepless nights, running on potions for three day stints, and the number of casualties." She reached up, winced, and wiped her face. "I never want to see that again, much less live it."

"If you offer to obliviate me, I'd take it, even if Hermione would shove her wand up my arse and fry my bollocks from the inside out." Ron scrubbed his face along with wiping his eyes. "How the hell do you cope with it?"

Hemera smiled, the first time he'd seen one on her face in months. "You do what we're doing now – talking and not holding back."

"But you're a captive audience. It's not right."

"Bollocks and bullshit. You think Kingsley and I didn't sit in the pub, with Tom keeping everyone away, while we talked after a cocked up mission? Of course we did. And so did Kingsley with Robards, and in the early days, with Mad Eye and all the others who came before.

There's a reason Aurors are like family. It's cause we can't share all the grotty details with our loved ones, or how fucked up our job is, or how someone died during the mission. Precious few can handle that and stay." She scowled. "You tell Granger everything after a mission?"

"Fuck no, 'cause she'd go spare. She's barmy enough when I'm on a mission for a day, much less a no-contact mission for a fortnight. She worries constantly when I'm on the job. I'm sure that Aurora does the same with you when you're gone and out on a mission."

"She's worse," Hemera said, "if you can believe it. I never thought it possible, but she is worse than Granger when it comes to worrying about me. And now, 'cause I fucked up, that might be gone too."

Ron gave her a look. "You heard what I said."

"Yeah, but you're different with Granger, being arse over tits. I'm cynical and realize I probably fucked myself because of that slag Carrington that night. I'll probably have a howler tomorrow from Aurora throwing me over the side for what I did."

"She won't," Ron replied.

"And you're naïve. It's different with witches. Bet you that when you were snogging that other bint – "

"Don't talk about Lavender. She went through hell and still does daily for what that fucker did to her that night. I won't have you slag on her. She's out of bounds and you know it."

"This isn't about Brown. This is about you and Granger. As I was saying, it's different for witches who date and have relationships with witches like me. I've dated men and women. Aurora didn't date anyone before me. Since you've been arse over tits for Granger, you've probably not realized that dating is different."

"I've not thought about it."

"Well, for witches like me, who are into wizards and witches, we get slagged on horribly, called everything possible, because we might stray from our partner. We're held to an even higher standard of impossible expectations, including being told that dating a witch is a phase, because we want a wizard when it's all over."

"That's rubbish," Ron rubbed the back of his neck, feeling awkward at the moment while discussing Hemera's private life.

"Then let's talk the family expectations. Even if we really like witches, there's the expectation that we settle down with a wizard, start a family, live the quiet domestic life. Dad always knew, but Mum still rails against me, even if I've been with Aurora for years now. She still thinks that I'm incomplete because I'm not married and don't have kids. And then there's Aurora, who spends her time looking at the stars and isn't bothered much with dating, especially dating witches, much less wizards. It's a wonder that we hit it off so well, enough to actually have a romantic relationship."

"I dunno where you're going with this."

Hemera shrunk back down into the bed, wincing. "I let myself be manipulated once and it's probably cost me my job, the trust of my best friend, the respect of those in the department, and probably my partner – all because I was beastly that no one was there for me."

"But all of us are there for you, Hemera. I hope you realize that now, that Harry and I have your back. Hell, even Hermione, if push comes to shove. And Kingsley's your best mate. He'd never throw you over the side for a mistake."

"I'm not shagging you or Potter or even Granger." She made a noise that sounded like a stepped on gnome. "The only saving grace I probably have is that I'm a Pureblood. If I were a half-blood I'd probably have been made redundant. I'll get another chance, if not as much of one as you would, since you're a wizard."

"I'm also the biggest Pureblood traitor from a Pureblood traitor family in all of Britain. Sure, I have two sets of purple wands, but I'm also a mugglelover, from the whispers in the ministry. Not like it's a bad thing, that I love Hermione, being a Muggleborn. I mean, she's fucking brilliant," and thought the other half of the phrase but didn't say it, "but I'm not immune either."

"Are you really arguing with me about who has it worse in the Ministry?" Hemera erupted in a barking laugh and immediately winced. "Fuck that hurts. Why'd you have to shatter my shoulder?"

"You win, I reckon. But why the fuck did you snog Carrington? She's a 3. I saw how Aurora looks at you. You must have been mad."

"I was. I was feeling pathetic that night and needed her and she wasn't there. I can't blame my choices on being dosed, not when my pathetic decisions started the mess."

"You're stupid."

"I was."

"She's not going to toss you over the side."

"That's what you think. I betrayed her. I snogged someone not her. You think Granger would leave your bits intact if you did that to her?"

"Yea. I reckon she has since it's happened before," he fought down the defensiveness over his relationship. "I've been snogged by many a witch – and two wizards – who thanked me for either saving their life, or catching the bastard who killed a relative. And every single time, I tell Hermione about it." Ron rubbed his neck, realizing he had to help, even if was embarrassed. "And every single stinking time it's happened, Hermione and I row a bit then shag furiously. Afterwards, we have an honest conversation and things are sorted. She's it for me, no matter who snogs me."

"You've got a really good thing going, Weasley."

"Yeah, we do. She's incredible and while it's not all smooth sailing, it's pretty fucking fantastic."

"And I threw it over the side for a piece of ass that tried to kill me."

Ron narrowed his eyes. "You said you left her in her knickers in the alley behind the pub. You did leave it off at a snog, right?"

She nodded. "I did but I was thinking of taking her back to the flat and shagging her all bloody night." She sighed. "Do you know how bloody difficult it is to turn down a woman who isn't too subtle at shoving her tongue down your throat?" She squinted. "Oh right, you had that, with Lavender. But you were young and dumb then too. When you get old, like I am, the people hitting on you are either the ones who want a three way or the ones with mummy issues or into bondage and shit. It's rubbish."

Ron sat, waiting for more.

"Granger taught you well, letting me talk."

Ron shrugged. "It's awkward but it's not like I'm going to sleep tonight and you probably won't either for a while and you need this, so why not? Besides, it's helping me think about all the shit that happened today."

"So what can you do about everything that happened today?" Her voice took on a hard edge.

"Turn in my badge and go hide in a bottle for getting those kids killed. But I won't, as much as I want to do that. I can't leave Harry hanging. I can't abandon you while shit is sideways."

"So what other options do you have?"

Ron sat quietly, going over everything that had happened, from the moment he woke so many hours ago, until now. "Well, the cadets admitted now go through a screening, so they aren't barmy. And we have more standards for the kids have to meet to make it to an Auror. It's not just NEWTS but also other things, like aptitude, and home life. The Aurors meet with a mind-healer every three months, and are mandated to do so annually. The department, while still over-budget and under-staffed, runs better now, with less problems, because people give a shit about one another. But the question remains, which boggles me, is how Cavendish was compromised? Carrington should never have been able to corrupt him. He'd have known he was dosed, if he was, to be compromised."

"You forget that Aurors are people, too. A willing shag is hard to turn down. A willing witch offering consequences-free shag is too much temptation for most people." Hemera pulled her wand from the bedclothes and pointed them at the sheets, sighing immediately.

"And how many shags have you turned down since you got with Aurora?"

"I've turned down dozens, if not hundreds, you git. I met her when I was assigned to Hogwarts that first year while protecting the school. I," she coughed slightly, "I didn't even have the nerve to ask her out. She asked me in the Spring, before Easter break. But since I met her and we became a couple, I've had to turn people down about once a month, sometimes more. A few even had the nerve to proposition me while she was with me."

"And yet you got your knickers twisted by Carrington. How the hell? She shouldn't have gotten close enough to compromise you, much less get you away from the bar."

"I was lonely, alright?" She growled. "I had a moment of weakness and it was bloody nice to be hit on when I needed attention. Between the Firewhiskey in me, those pretty eyes, and what she was saying, I fell for it. And I might lose Aurora for my bloody stupid decision."

"Nah, but she might give you the cold shoulder and yell at you some."

"Granger do that to you often, huh?" She grinned. "I can imagine Hermione being a screamer."

Ron flushed bright red, thinking of her differently than what Hemera was saying. "Yeah, she is. When she gets wound up, she can be heard on all floors of flats in our building – if we didn't have Auror quality silencing spells on the flat. Thankfully it's a mixed residence so the wizards understand."

"So you think Aurora might be beastly over what I did?"

"Yeah, and rightly so. But if you're really sorry it happened, I think she might forgive you, especially if you never do it again."

"So if I offered an Unbreakable vow for her?"

"You're barking. That doesn't keep you wanting to shag people in your head and heart."

"She's not going to trust me again, not after that."

"But Harry said that Carrington possible doused you. That sounds like assault to me, like using Imperio, removing your consent. You've never done it before and you're certainly sorry that it happened. How can she be beastly with you if you were dosed and couldn't consent willingly?"

"You were dosed in a potion once, right? I remember you mentioning that some years ago. The stuff that your brothers kept in the shop was mostly innocent, except when it's left to sit for months where the potion gets stronger. But you also have had cases where sods use the blackmarket potions, the ones that automatically earn you a long stint in Azkaban, the ones that the nefarious to knock someone down in minutes.

"It's the only explanation I have for acting like I did, no matter what my bits were begging for." Hemera stared off in the distance. "But I made the choice to go to that pub that night, making it possible. My pity party opened the door to being manipulated and corrupted. I wonder if Cavendish was originally compromised the same way."

"That's a possibility. I can check – "

"NOOOOOOOO!"

Ron turned and ripped the curtain aside, wand in his hand, to see Harry sitting up in his bed, drenched in sweat, shuddering. Ron opened his arms and Harry fell into his strong embrace, weeping. "They're dead. I couldn't save them."

"It's OK mate. I know. You did everything you could."

"Kids," He stuttered before his voice failed.

"Weasley?" Hemera asked behind him.

"Nightmare. He gets them sometimes. Ginny normally can calm him down." Ron turned his attention back to his best mate, holding him to his chest while prattling on in a soft voice.

Harry eventually calmed down. "Thanks," Harry said. "I'd – "

"You're safe. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

"Potter, I'm here too."

"Safest place in London, I reckon. Probably safer than Gringotts, right?"

Harry laughed and pulled away from Ron's chest to wipe his face on the blanket. "Damn bad one," he growled. He reached for his glasses on the white table next to his bed and put on his glasses, then reached for the glass of water, drinking deeply.

"We had a shitty day. I'd expected it."

"Got a book or something? I don't think I'll be able to sleep again tonight." Harry replaced the glass on the table and pulled his wand from the bedclothes and lit the candle on the table.

Ron went back to the bag he'd brought with him and pulled a book out. "Here ya go. Real page turner, so says Hermione. She's right, actually. I couldn't put it down and fell asleep a few mornings reading the bloody thing."

"Bloody book is enormous."

"That's just the first book. Hermione tells me that there are 8 more, just like it, and all of them are massive, too"

Harry settled down into his bed and was reading almost immediately, lost in another world, filled with ominous cloaked figures and a Chosen one who didn't know he was chosen, yet, while being hunted by nightmares of legend.

"You're good for him, Weasley."

"He's my best mate. He'd do the same for me, too." Ron glanced back at the other bed and saw Harry –enthralled. "And he has, more often than he realizes." Ron shared a look with Hemera. "See, he forgave me."