A/N Ah, you lovely people, you're going to hate me. I mean, really hate me. Shout out for a past bookworm video that was made for MLG (link on my profile) where I genuinely thought she was in my head. A part of that video makes a rather tragic return.

Crossy; With regards to Krum pummelling Ron, as entertaining as writing that boxing match would be, that's not how I do things, hehe! I hope you had a wonderful holiday!
Bookworm; I'm very glad I managed to give you a nice wake up :) Thank you as always!
EnzieQueen; Don't get me wrong, canon Ron wouldn't be like this, but hey, that's the beauty of fanfics! Thanks for your review, and I'm timing the ending for New Years Eve! And I refuse to give any spoilers, there's only a few days to go now!

Disclaimer; All I want for Christmas is to be JK, to be JK, yes to be JK. Gee if I could simply only be JK, then I would I actually own anything recognisable in this. Buuuuut I don't. All hail Rowling!

Chapter 21

She blinked at him. "Excuse me?"
Bill's fierce expression didn't fade. "Leave him."
"B-but I-"
"Leave him, 'Mione." Her mouth felt as if it had fallen open so much that her jaw must've broken by now, and half of her expected Bill to suddenly burst into laughter and say that it was all a joke. Because it had to be, right? Leaving Ron couldn't be as simple as just... Leaving him. Bill was not laughing, however, and looked deadly serious.
"How can you- I can't just- it's not as simple as-" She spluttered awkwardly, but he silenced her with another swift kiss, making her already fried mind pound again, or was that the excitement in her heart?
"Yes, you can." He stated firmly. "Even you must know that he's no good for you, and none of this is your fault or your responsibility. You should never be made to feel like it is, and you should never have to suffer every day, like you have been. Hermione, abuse is wrong, there's no two ways about it. You know that."

She'd partially tuned out when he had mentioned suffering. Her mind had flicked back to the wince on Rose's face when Ron had grabbed her, and she absolutely hated herself. Through trying to be strong, she had put her children in danger. And Merlin only knew what Bill would do if he knew what she'd seen; she couldn't tell him. She wondered for a moment why her vision was going blurry, and briefly entertained the thought that she had perhaps been concussed when she fainted, before moisture trickled down her cheek and she realised she was crying. "The children-" She choked.
"Will understand." He interrupted, misinterpreting her words yet still wiping a tear from her face and smiling weakly at her. "Louis, Dom and Vicky did."

Momentarily distracted, her eyes widened as she breathed, "You've divorced Fleur?"
He nodded. "I sent off the papers a while ago, and said I wouldn't take no for an answer." He gave a wonderfully wonky smile and her heart seemed to skip a beat. "It's much easier than we ever thought. And the kids... Well, they almost seemed to expect it. They're okay though, I think. They seem to be, and to be honest, I'll probably see them more if I go for joint custody."
She smiled widely. "I'm really happy for you, Bill."
He swiped a lock of hair from her face and cupped her cheek; apparently all inhibitions were gone today. "You deserve to be happy too."

She frowned and unconsciously rested a hand on her stomach. "I can't just leave him. This is about more than what only I want."
He followed the motion of her arm as she touched the area where her child was growing, and smiled slightly, before leaning towards her and resting his head on the area, hugging her midriff as he did. She instinctively began running her fingers through his hair, and he settled softly against her. "I have an idea," He finally began in a quiet voice, "of what Ron must have done to you. I would like nothing more than to be wrong but... Well, I don't think I am. That's beside the point, though."
Though she had tensed at her husband's name, there was something incredibly soothing about running her sore and tired fingers through Bill's hair, and she was feeling pleasantly calm for the first time in... She couldn't even remember. Probably, she reasoned, fifteen years. "What is the point then?" She murmured.

He turned his head to look up at her and she was surprised to see tears in his eyes. "The point is," He began, in a shaky voice, "that I will love this child, whether it's mine or not." She opened her mouth, whether to protest or cry, even she wasn't sure, but he cut across her. "I mean it. I'll love him or her like I love Vicky, Dom, Louis, Rosie and Hugo. And I know that biologically only one of them is mine, but I don't care about that. Being a father is... Well, it's easy, all you have to do is have sex. But being a dad, that's completely different. And whether I'm this baby's father or not," He kissed her stomach, before looking at her, sincerity lacing every tear that fell from his eyes, "I would really like the chance to be their dad."

She found herself unable to speak for a moment, and when she did say something, even she was surprised by what she said. "You included Hugo."
His eyebrows pulled together. "Huh?"
She shook her head and sat up, forcing him to as well, so they were sat opposite one another. "You included Hugo in your list of kids that you love. Even though he's Ron's."
Bill gave a wry smile. "He should've been mine. But yeah, I love him." He tilted his head and smiled fully at her. "He's like you, and he's a part of you. You already know that I love everything about you." He scowled and added an addendum. "Apart from the bruises."

She gave a humourless chuckle. "Is it really so easy?" She asked, her voice shaking.
"Is what?"
"Divorce." She barely breathed the word, and immediately felt guilty for even saying it, and fearful that somehow Ron might have heard her, but Bill gave an understanding smile.
"It is, it really is. And you already know that Rosie and Hugo will understand so that's half the battle done already."
"But he won't be... He'll not be mature about it. The last time I brought it up he... He... He-"
"You don't need to say it." Bill interrupted, as much for her as for himself, as he pulled her into a tight embrace.
"I'm scared, Bill." Sobbing uncontrollably onto his shoulder and not even caring, she buried herself deeper into his shirt. "I'm s-so s-scared-d. A-a-an-and I'm s-s-so b-bloody-y tired of b-b-being s-scared."

He rocked her back and forth, rubbing her back and whispering soothing words in her ear until she had calmed somewhat, and they ended up sitting, cross-legged, facing one another. Hermione, however, was not looking at him, but staring at Ginny and Harry's tombstones. He nudged her knee lightly and, in a concerned voice, asked, "What're you thinking?"
She shook her head, as if coming out of a trance, and gave a sad smile. "I was just thinking of what Ginny and Harry would say about all of this."
Bill matched her expression, down to the grim smile and tear-filled eyes, but he pulled her closer anyway and, with her sat between his legs, rested his head on her shoulder and joined her in staring at the two graves. "What do you think they would say?" He asked quietly.
She smiled weakly. "Ginny would yell and scream at me to bloody grow a pair, whilst casting a billion bat-bogey hexes on Ron's genitals."

They both shared a weak chuckle. "And Harry?"
She sighed heavily. "Harry would be mad. Really, really mad."
"Hmm. I'm not sure I've ever really seen Harry mad." Bill said thoughtfully.
She shrugged miserably. "After our fifth year and then the horcruxes, he was always careful with his anger. But... Well, he was human, of course he got angry. Sometimes he'd rant to Ginny, but a lot of the time he'd rant to me. I guess we were like the siblings we never had."
She felt his nod against her shoulder, before he prompted, "So he'd be mad, but what would he say?"
Hermione chuckled. "Well, whenever we were together, he'd get that tight-lipped narrow-eyed look, a bit like Pro- Minerva- but I guess when we were alone he'd say..." She gave a heady sigh and stood up, walking until she was directly in front of his grave.

"''Mione, what the actual hell?! You're actually putting up with this?! Jesus, Merlin and whoever the hell else, stop being like this! You want to help him, sure, and so do I, but you're never going to help him like this. You're one of the strongest women I've ever met, probably the strongest in fact (sorry Gin), and I get how you feel you have to be strong for everyone else, but the best way you can do that is just by being you! You're strong 'Mione, never forget it. And you really deserve better than this. As for Bill? Well...'"

"Coffee sounds good."
Bill gave a noise of surprise from behind her, before clearing his throat and asking, "Really?"
She turned and gave a small smile. "Charlie's looking after the kids, right?" He nodded numbly, a grin forming on his face. "Well, I seem to remember seeing a café near the supermarket in the Welsh town we went to." She held her hand out. "Are you in?"
Bill met her eyes seriously. "Are you?"
She sent a fond look behind her. "I haven't been myself for a long time now, but I think I'm getting there. I'm leaving him, for certain this time." And he
might have doubted her, if not for the steely look in her eyes that he hadn't seen for over a decade; Hermione Granger was back.

…

Ron arrived back home to find Charlie playing with Rose and Hugo, and immediately demanded to know where his wife was. His brother scowled and ignored his question, and Rose, as observant as ever and rubbing her arm, asked her Uncle Char if he wanted to see Wolfie and Wolfer. Charlie immediately agreed, following her upstairs and beckoning for Hugo to follow them. However, before the young boy could even take a step, Ron had stepped in front of him, calling a cheerful reassurance to his brother that he'd be upstairs soon.

"Hey, Hugo," Ron began, grinning at his son, "d'ya remember when your Uncle Bill and I had that little... Disagreement, and your mum took you somewhere?"
Hugo, though he wrinkled his nose at the smell emanating from his father's mouth, didn't understand that it was alcohol on his breath. And as much as Hermione had tried to protect him and Rose, he knew there was something wrong with his dad. So it was with a cautious voice that he asked, "Yes... Why?"
Rage flickered across his features, too quick for Hugo's young mind to register, before he gave an indulgent smile. "Can you remember where she took you? Remember what she said into the floo?" Hugo nodded mutely, still confused, and Ron's smile grew wider. "What did she say?"
Hugo shied away a bit, and listened intently; he was fairly sure Uncle Charlie was moving towards the stairs, as the floorboards were creaking slightly. "Why do you want to know?" He asked boldly, before quickly adding, "Dad."

Ron smiled, an almost kind smile. "Well, I'm planning a surprise for your mum, that's why. I know that things have been tough around here, and I wanted to give your mum a real surprise, and I think there's the best place to do it!"
Hugo gnawed at his lip. "Does that mean you and mum are going to be okay?"
"Of course we are. Just tell me the name of the place she took you, and I'll have this amazing meal ready for her tomorrow." Hugo was still frowning slightly, and Ron pouted. "Don't you trust your dad?"

Too young to understand even the concept of manipulation, Hugo hugged his father and immediately told him the address that his mum had called out all those weeks ago. Charlie came down to the scene of them hugging and, unnerved, told Rose she could go and spend the afternoon with the Potters, and took Hugo back to the Burrow with him, the sight of Ron's half-smile imprinted on his mind.

…

It was only moments after Hugo and Charlie had left through the floo that he followed, the sight of a small-ish lounge area greeting him. He scowled at the evidences that people had been here recently, before running upstairs to the bedroom. Granted, the bed was made, but he could've sworn that there were two imprints on the bedding. An ugly snarl forming on his face, he moved to the en suite bathroom, eyes blazing when he found a tub of male shaving cream on the shelf, and not noticing that it was from over fifteen years ago.

He stomped down the stairs, feeling a sick satisfaction as he punched the wall on his way down, before moving to the kitchen. There seemed to be little amiss here, except for a half-empty bottle of firewhiskey on the counter, maybe she'd been hiding some more... He downed the bottle in less than two minutes and proceeded to go on a drunken rampage, ripping out kitchen drawers and tripping over chairs so many times that he ended up shattering them all on walls as he threw them. He finally, stumbling, made his way back into the lounge area, when a strange, silvery light caught his eye. He briefly remembered someone telling him something about what this thing was supposed to do, but he simply couldn't remember, so he snorted and went back in search of his alcohol. However, as he turned to walk away, Bill's face caught the corner of his eye and he lunged. Angry, violent and drunk, he dived head first into Hermione's pensieve.