Author's Notes:

Here's Chapter 136 for you!

Happy Sixth Anniversary!

Tomorrow (2nd Feb) is the anniversary of The Marriage Decree. Thank you all for continuing to read, whether you've been reading for the past six years or you started today. I appreciate you all so much.

I definitely didn't tear up while writing the last scene for this chapter, (I did)!

Love, DW

P.S. Enjoy x

Ginny gently wipes a cotton round, damp with makeup remover, around her eyes. The day had been full of last-minute planning with her mum for Harry's birthday party tomorrow. Not only would this be Harry's twenty-first birthday, but they had also gained permission from the Minister to relax the restrictions around the Burrow for the day, as long as a few Ministry workers were present. Ginny's smile widens, giddy with excitement, knowing they have bested the minister once again. Harry had put forward a list of Ministry workers he wouldn't mind inviting to his party, all of which were members of the New Order. Of course, since they are heads of their respective departments, Kingsley had been more than happy to allow Alexander Vyner, Gideon Johnson and Elias Woodward to attend. Tomorrow is going to be a productive day for the New Order. All representatives had been invited so they could get to know who their allies were in all this secrecy.

Ginny's hand grips the sink as her little one kicks her in the bladder, "Hey, stop it!" she pats her stomach, trying to soothe her baby. However, the baby kicks again in contradiction, and she feels a slow trickle down her leg. "Are you kidding me?" She sighs, thinking she's peed herself, although, when the liquid doesn't stop, she realises what this means. Pointing at herself in the mirror, Ginny tells her reflection, "This is not happening right now."

Rubbing her hands down her face, she wonders how she will make it through the next twenty-four hours. Tomorrow was far too important to cancel due to her being in active labour. She doubts she's actually in labour anyway. When she had James, she went through those fake labour pains for a week before he was born. Although, this baby was due in ten days.

A knock at the door shocks her.

"Hey, Gin, you've been in there a while, are you okay?" Harry's gentle, calm voice calls through the door.

"Yes, I'm fine," she quickly answers. "I'm going to have a shower." She knows Harry will be able to see straight through her. If her contractions start, she won't be able to hide that from Harry, and he'll make her go to St. Mungos. All this planning will be for nothing. "I'm thinking about spending the night at Mum's, so I can get up early to prepare for everyone." She tells him, leaning back against the sink.

"It's my birthday; I don't want to wake up without you," Harry admits.

"Harry," Ginny sighs, hating that she's currently lying to her husband. "We're going to have a hundred more birthday's together; one morning apart won't matter." She pauses in front of the door, wanting to throw it open and fall into his arms.

Harry chuckles on the other side of the door, "You're optimistic."

"I love you, but you'll be fine with Ron and James for your birthday breakfast. I'll be waiting for your birthday kiss when you arrive at ten o'clock." She rests her forehead against the bathroom door.

"I'm looking forward to it."

Ginny can hear the smile in his voice as she listens to her husband walk away from their bathroom. Wand in hand, she turns the shower on, then casts a cleaning charm over the mess on the floor. After her shower, Ginny dresses in a clean pair of clothes, throwing her wet hair in a bun to deal with at home. Cracking the door open, she ensures Harry isn't in their bedroom before packing her overnight bag quickly.

Unfortunately, she doesn't make it to the floo fireplace without being seen, as Ron calls her from the kitchen, asking where she's going.

"Home, there's so much to do. Just make sure Harry and James get there for ten o'clock, yeah?" Ginny asks.

"O'course," Ron confirms, taking a bite out of a sandwich he'd made. "Aren't you going to say bye to them?"

"I already have," Ginny pulls her bag up onto her shoulder, then leaves, walking hastily through the living room and flooing straight to the Burrow.

Harry heard Ginny talking with Ron downstairs; however, his wife had already gone when James joined them.

"You just missed her; she already said bye, though," Ron tells him, his mouth full.

Harry's heart feels heavy. He knows his wife is hiding something from him, but he'sunsuree what. Hopefully, it's something to do with his birthday party tomorrow.

"You're still coming tomorrow, right?" Harry asks his best friend.

Ron swallows his mouthful, "Of course, why wouldn't I?" He chuckles.

"Pansy's going to be there," Harry awkwardly reminds him.

Ron's face falls, his eyes full of hurt as he drops his remaining sandwich onto the plate. Since Ron and Pansy's separation, Ron had split his time between living at the Burrow and living with the Potter's. It's not that Harry didn't enjoy having his friend around the house, Grimmauld Place is big enough to house three families without getting in the way of each other, but he hates seeing his friend so down and depressed. Following Pansy's wishes, Ron hadn't seen his children in six weeks, and Harry could see it was tearing him apart.

"I'm bound to see her eventually," Ron shrugs, walking past Harry and straight up the stairs, leaving his leftover sandwich behind.

James, who had been sitting in the hallway, trying to pull his shoes on, asks, "We go to park now?"

"Yes, let's go!" Harry brightens his mood for his son, kneeling to help his son.

When Ginny steps out of the fireplace into the living room, her Mum jumps to her feet, gasping a cry, "What's happened, Ginny? Are you and Harry okay?" She questions.

"We're fine, Mum," she rolls her eyes.

"Why are you here then? I can barely deal with Ron's broken marriage; please don't put another one on me." Molly dabs her eyes with a handkerchief.

"Mum, I find it weird that you're mourning Ron's relationship," Ginny admits. "Ron and Pansy will sort themselves out." She dumps her bag on the floor, carefully sitting on the couch.

"They haven't seen each other in six weeks," Molly whines.

"Because they're both stubborn arseholes," Ginny shrugs.

"Ginerva!" Her mum snaps.

"Mum," Ginny lowers her tone to speak seriously. "As soon as they see each other tomorrow, they won't be able to resist each other and will end the night going home together." She predicts.

"I hope you're right," Molly sniffles.

"Well, I'm shattered," Ginny struggles to stand. "I'm going to bed so I can get up early. Hermione's coming tomorrow at eight to help set up." She informs her mother.

"I know; get a good night's sleep," Molly kisses her daughter's head. "Do you want me to bring you a tea to help you sleep?" She offers.

"No, I'm fine, thanks," she hugs her mum before going up to bed.

At eight weeks pregnant, Hermione is thankful her dreaded evening sickness hadn't begun yet. It's something she was sure would come during her second trimester, which would, unfortunately, start just as they were due to go back to work after their parental leave from Scorpius' birth. Since Pansy had mentioned her headaches, though, Hermione had become more aware of just how many headaches she was getting during her first trimester. However, that was nothing a headache potion couldn't solve.

"Why are you up so early?" Draco whines, burrowing his head under their summer duvet.

"I promised Ginny I would be at the Burrow for eight to help set up for Harry's party," Hermione reminds him, climbing out of bed after downing the headache potion she leaves on her bedside table every night.

"Great," Draco says sarcastically. "What time am I needed?

"Guests are arriving at half-nine," she reminds him as she pulls on a yellow flowery wrap dress.

Turning around, she catches her husband's eyes scanning her body, and her eyes soften, "Can I help you?" She asks.

"You're beautiful," he tells her.

A giggle escapes as she rolls her eyes, pretending to be annoyed, but the truth is, every compliment from Draco feels like the first, and sends her giggling and blushing like she's a schoolgirl.

"Stop it," she grins, leaning over the bed to kiss him quiet. "No, I'll see you in a few hours. I've set Scorpius' clothes out on top of his dresser." She adds, pressing one more kiss to his lips. "Bye."

Entering the Burrow, Hermione finds Molly, dressed in a dressing robe, yawning as she levitates a cake tin into the oven.

"Morning, Molly," she greets the woman, who grins, opening her arms for a hug.

"Good morning, Hermione," Molly hugs her tight. "How are you, dear?"

"I'm great, glad to have a reason to relax," she admits. "I feel like I've been so busy these past few weeks."

Molly nods, "Pansy's told me about the new education decrees, is much going to change?" She asks.

"Not to the way we teach," she shakes her head. "But we have to set a specific amount of homework and run mock exams before Christmas and Easter, so a lot more grading for us professors," she sighs.

"That all sounds positive, though?" Molly questions.

"It is; we'll be able to ensure each student is on track to pass their end-of-year exams," Hermione agrees. "Anyway, enough talk about work; where's Ginny?"

"Still in bed," Molly states, raising an eyebrow.

"Did she spend the night?"

"Yes, she assures me her marriage is still intact, but I'm worried," Molly starts tearing up.

Hermione instinctively laughs, "Come on, Molly, out of everyone, Ginny and Harry are going to be together for the long run. They actually got married outside of the Decree; not everyone can say that."

"Maybe you can find out what's going on," Molly hands her a cup of tea. "For Ginny."

Hermione ascends the staircase to Ginny's floor and knocks on her bedroom door.

"I'll be up in ten minutes," a strained voice calls back.

"I've got tea," Hermione sings, trying to bribe her way in.

"Hermione? Is it eight already?"

"Yes, are you dressed?" She asks. "Can I come in?"

"Not really," Ginny responds.

"What?"

"Just come in," she calls in anguish.

Gently pushing the door open, Hermione finds Ginny curled up on her side, still in bed, and sweating profusely.

"Are you ill?" she immediately asks, placing the cup of tea on her bedside table, then presses the back of her hand to Ginny's forehead. "It doesn't feel like you have a fever."

"I'm just tired," Ginny shakes her head free of her friend's hand. She slowly slides out of bed, using her side table to help herself to her feet.

"Didn't you sleep well?" Hermione asks, stepping aside to watch her friend pull clothes out of her overnight bag.

"I was up late folding napkins," she states, placing a long skirt and blouse on her bed.

"Napkins?" She repeats, unconvinced. "Why do you need folded napkins? It's a casual party?"

"Obviously, I'm fucking lying," Ginny squeezes her eyes shut in pain, her hands gripping onto the footboard of her bed.

"Are you in labour?" Hermione gasps, suddenly understanding the situation as she places a hand on the small of Ginny's back, attempting to comfort her friend.

"No, it's that fake labour; what's it called?" She stands as the pain passes.

"Braxton Hicks? Have you seen your healer?" Hermione questions.

"No point, it's just Braxton Hicks. I had them with James; I know the difference. Baby isn't due for another ten days." Ginny smiles. "I definitely need a shower." She pulls her towel out of her wardrobe in a terrible attempt at changing the conversation.

"I'm worried, Ginny," Hermione admits. "That was some serious pain; how far apart are they?"

"I'm fine," Ginny snaps. "Just don't tell Mum or Harry; they'll only worry about nothing."

Hermione stares at her friend, "Promise me, if they become seven minutes apart, you'll let me take you to St. Mungos."

Ginny glances at her feet, realising she's been caught in her lies," Fine, but I'll tell you when it's time." She promises.

"Good, I'll distract Molly; you have a bath. Take as long as you need; I'll get everything ready." Hermione tells her friend.

"You're a great friend," Ginny smiles.

Hermione shakes her head, leaving her friend to bathe. She catches Molly up in the kitchen, "Ginny's having a bath; she looks exhausted. I've told her to take her time , and we'll get everything sorted."

Molly nods, "That girl stresses about nothing but Quidditch and her boys."

Hermione smiles, knowing that to be true.

"Right, the cakes are in the oven, the salads are made. We need to set the tables, hang the banners outside, blow up the balloons. When the cakes are cooling, the other nibbles need cooking in the oven; then the cake needs decorating…." Molly lists off all the jobs that still need completing.

"I'll take outside decorations," Hermione interrupts Mother Weasley, picking up the box of decorations from the kitchen table.

Draco and Scorpius step out of the Burrow's fireplace to a room full of colourful balloons, banners and streamers. The kitchen doesn't fare much better when they enter to find Molly rushing around with trays of food levitating around as she takes one out of the oven and replaces it with another.

"Glad you're here, Draco," Molly tells him without turning to check it's him. "Can you take those trays out to Hermione? She set up the buffet table outside. You can put Scorpius in the playpen; it's outside in the shade."

"Yes, Ma'am," Draco carries a plate in his hand, following the woman's instructions in taking them to his wife. "I've been drafted to help," he presses a kiss to her cheek.

Hermione grins, but her eyes are in a frenzy as she attempts to arrange all the plates in some sort of order, "Thanks, darling."

Draco eyes widen as he scans the garden; they never used their little sweet pet names out in public. The terms of endearment felt too intimate to use anytime other than when they're alone. "My dear," Draco whispers into his wife's ear. "We aren't alone."

Hermione breathes sharply, "I apologise; I'm a frazzled mess."

"Where's Ginny? Is she not helping?"

Hermione turns to face him, "Ginny is pretending not to be actively in labour right now, but for some unknown reason, wants no one to know."

"Really!"

"Yes, I've told her to relax upstairs; she can join us just before Harry arrives at ten," Hermione explains.

Draco nods once, walking to place Scorpius in the playpen in the shade of a large oak tree, "What do you need me to do?" He asks.

Hermione smiles lovingly at her husband, "Can you help bring the food out? Then we just need to set up small tables with chairs, and we're done."

"Of course, anything for you, my dear," he mutters, following her into the kitchen.

"Stop," Hermione blushes, collecting more plates.

Draco chuckles, taking small bowls of dips from Molly out to where his wife has decided to create a second table for the buffet to spread the food out. Once the last of the food has been moved across the two tables, Hermione and Draco start duplicating small circular tables, placing them around the garden, then evenly distributing four-chair around each one, just as the sky lights up from multiple people apparating at the same time to the Burrow, with only ten minutes to go before the birthday boy himself arrives.

The plan for Harry's birthday, which had been planned out for him by Ginny and Molly, was that he and James would floo to the Burrow, where close family and friends would greet him in the living room. Then, Harry, Ginny and James would lead the way outside, where the rest of the guests, mostly members of the New Order, would wish him a happy birthday, eat food from the buffet, and mainly network with each other.

So, when Harry and James step out of the fireplace at ten o'clock, he feigns surprise as his close family and friends cheer and wish him a happy twenty-first birthday. There was no way this party could be kept a secret since Ginny found it incredibly difficult to lie to him, so she hadn't even tried and told him instantly.

"Wow, what a surprise? Thank you, everyone." Harry grins, and each of his brothers-in-law turns to Ginny, who's purposely avoiding their eyes.

"There are no secrets in your marriage, eh, Harry?" George pulls his friend into a hug.

"Of course not," Harry grins, patting his back.

Harry goes through the Weasley family, hugging and kissing each member, including Charlie, who had managed to get a week off from work.

"It's been a while," Charlie grins as they hug. "Can't believe you're twenty-one. I still think of you as that eleven-year-old that had me smuggle a dragon out of Hogwarts," he admits.

Harry rolls his eyes, embarrassed, but James stands at his father's feet stares up in awe at his uncle.

"Hey Jamesy," Charlie kneels to his nephews level.

"Dragon!" James smiles widely.

"Has your dad never told you the story?" He stands, picking James up with him, holding him in his strong arms. "So, I get this owl from your uncle Ron telling me all about how he's best friends with the famous 'Harry Potter'," Charlies begins.

"Charlie!" Ron complains, following after his brother, embarrassed.

Harry laughs, letting them go on their way outside. He manages to catch Ginny before she disappears.

"Hey, Gin," he pulls her close, their finger entwined. "I seem to remember a promise of a birthday kiss."

Ginny pretends to think, "I don't recall."

"Let me remind you, then," he pulls his wife in for a passionate kiss, having missed sleeping beside her last night and waking up beside her this morning. "I missed you," he tells her when they break.

"It was just the one night," she rests her forehead against Harry's.

"How are you? You left me worried last night by your abrupt departure," Harry admits.

Ginny laughs softly, "I'm better, now you're here with me."

"Good, it's not good for the universe if we're apart too long," Harry jokes.

Ginny snorts loudly, "You're weird, come on." She guides him out through the kitchen and into the garden, where he has to feign surprise again with his other friends, colleagues and random New Order members that otherwise wouldn't have been invited.

Hermione stands near Percy and Audrey, not listening to what they're saying as. Her attention is focused on watching Ginny as she walks around the garden with Harry. Thankfully, Draco seems to be partaking in polite conversation to keep them busy. Eventually, Hermione sees Ginny whisper something to Harry and head inside.

"Don't let Harry inside," Hermione whispers to Draco, hiding her words with a kiss on his cheek, then follows her friend into the Burrow.

Catching the fabric of Ginny's skirt disappearing upstairs, Hermione climbs the staircase to Ginny's bedroom, only to find her on her knees, bent over her bed, crying and sweating.

"It's time, Ginny," Hermione kneels beside her, hand on her back, helping her friend through her apparent contraction.

"I say… when… it's time," she says as her breaths come out panting.

"You're sweating, Gin," Hermione lifts her hand from her sweat-soaked blouse.

"It's like thirty degrees; what do you expect!" Ginny replies, the pain subsiding.

"You're sweating due to the panic from trying to hide your obvious contractions from Harry," Hermione tells her.

"I'm not panicking," Ginny shouts, nothing but panic in her voice.

"You are, Ginny," Hermione snaps. "Go run yourself a cool bath to calm yourself down; I'll go get Harry."

"No, Harry," Ginny reminds her.

"He needs to know," Hermione softly brushes her friend's sweating hair out from her face.

"After the party, this is too important," she cries, tears running down her face.

"Please let me take you to St. Mungo's," Hermione begs.

"I can't ruin today," Ginny shakes her head.

"Harry won't care about his party; all he cares about is you and his children, one of which is ready to arrive," she gestures to Ginny's stomach.

"This isn't just about Harry," Ginny leans her head back against her bed. "He's been working so hard to keep Kingsley on his goo side and managed to get special permission to ease restrictions on the Burrow for his birthday. If Kingsley finds out we're at St. Mungo's, the restrictions will go back up, and everyone here will be suspected of treason. I won't put my friends and family at risk like that," she breathes heavily.

"No one will tell Kingsley if you leave," Hermione assures.

"You know there's a mole within St. Mungo's," Ginny reminds her. "They'll pass the information on to Kingsley, and then mayhem ensues."

Hermione hadn't forgotten about the mole within St. Mungo's; how could she after they put her family at risk.

"Today is the perfect opportunity for everyone to meet everyone; we can't pass that up," Ginny looks up at Hermione.

"Stop thinking about what's good for the cause, and think about what's good for you and your child," Hermione tries to convince her.

Ginny smiles sadly, "It's for the greater good."

Hermione face stills, "I'm going to tell Harry; I'm not letting you do this. What you're doing, denying you're in labour, is putting you and your child at risk."

"Don't!" Ginny growls, gripping Hermione's hand as the pain takes over her once again.

When her hand relaxes, Hermione shakes her head, "That was barely ten minutes, Ginny. If you don't go to St. Mugno's, I'll bring St. Mungo's to you," she drops her friend's hand.

Hermione turns on her heel and leaves.

Harry has spent the last hour doing the rounds around the garden, stopping at every table and every cluster of people, thanking them for coming to his party, and asking them if they were having a lovely time. Every person present is a member of the New Order, so quite a few times, Harry greets the same few people as they mix across different groups.

Once finished, he goes on the hunt for Ginny, who had left him half an hour ago. As he steps inside the kitchen, Draco calls him over, seemingly to tell him something urgent, by the way, he beckons.

"Are you alright?" Harry asks.

"Me, yes, I'm fine, but I heard Ron has been staying at yours for a few weeks, and I'm sure you're just as tired of having him around as we are of having Pansy and the twins around," Draco tells him. Harry opens his mouth to deny the claims when Draco continues, "Of course, it's been lovely having them stay, but six weeks is a bit excessive; we need to get them back together."

"Okay, what do you want me to do?" Harry shrugs, distracted, as he scans around the garden for Ginny.

"We both speak to our respective tenants and tell them to sort each other out," Draco suggests.

Harry scoffs, locking eyes with Draco, "That isn't going to work."

"I know, they're both stubborn, but we put their children in the same room as them, and they realise they're hurting their children and makeup." Draco makes up on the spot.

"That sounds stupid," Harry sidesteps towards the kitchen door, but Draco steps in front of him. "What?"

"Okay, what if we take the twins and give them to Ron? He realises how much he misses them, goes to apologise to Pansy, and they make up," Draco nods.

"Ron is more than aware of how much he misses his children; he's been miserable the past six weeks without them." Harry frowns.

"Good, good, let's use that; we can tell Pansy just how miserable he is," Draco suggests, then shakes his head. "No, she'd probably enjoy that."

"Right, while you're coming up with a plan, I'm going to find my wife," Harry pats Draco on the shoulder, trying to slide past him.

"I'm sorry, Harry, I can't let you do that," Draco smiles apologetically as he grabs Harry's wrist and drags him over to where the Gryffindor Quidditch team has a catch-up. "Remember that time Harry fell off his broom?" Draco announces their arrival.

"Which time?" Angelina asks, and laughter erupts from the group.

"I really must go," Harry pulls his wrist free, storming towards the Burrow.

Draco chases after him, "Hey, that was rude; they're your friends!"

"Draco!" Harry turns, glaring at the other man. "I don't know what you're doing, but you're beginning to piss me off," he growls on the threshold of the kitchen door.

"Harry!" Hermione calls from the kitchen. The man turns, feeling ambushed by the couple. "Your wife is in labour; I'm going to get her healer; she's in her room." She announces, rushing into the living room.

"What!" Harry races upstairs to Ginny's bedroom, finding her crying on the floor, her head pressed into her mattress. "Gin, why didn't you tell me?" He immediately sits beside her, pulling her against his chest. "Come on, breathe with me," he tells her, starting the breathing techniques their healer had taught them.

When Hermione returns with Ginny's healer ten minutes after she left, she directs him up to Ginny's bedroom, then joins the rest of the guests outside, all of whom were none the wiser. Draco is still standing at the kitchen door, now with James on his hip, stopping people from entering the Burrow.

"I should tell Molly, she was present for James' birth," Hermione whispers to Draco, who nods in agreement.

Molly is over talking with Pansy, Fleur, Angelina, Alicia and Katie when Hermione joins them. "Molly, Ginny asked for help with something in her bedroom." Hermione lies.

Molly brow furrows curiously, "What is it?"

"A present for Harry," she adds.

Intrigued, Molly heads inside past Draco, making her way upstairs.

"That was weird, Hermione," Angelina comments.

She just shakes her head, "Don't shoot the messenger."

"So, how is it, being the other woman?" Katie asks, giggling.

Hermione frowns, glancing at Pansy, simply sipping her wine as his eyes frequently glance over to where Ron is playing with the twins in the playpen, pure joy on his face.

"Katie!" Alicia elbows her.

"What! It's just a joke," Katie laughs.

"It's not funny, though," Angelina mutters.

"Don't take it so seriously," Katie smiles. "Obviously, the rumours aren't true."

Hermione's eyes harden, "What rumours?" She asks, almost too afraid to ask.

"You don't know?" Fleur asks. "Even Bill and I know, in France."

"What are the rumours?" She repeats.

"That you and Ron have been having an affair since the ceremony," Angelina admits, a little too giddily.

Pansy's attention is finally drawn to the group's conversation.

"That's what people think?" Hermione asks, the colour draining from her face.

"Yes, have you not been down Diagon Alley? Whispers follow Ron everywhere," Angelina explains.

"That article was six weeks ago. Haven't people moved on?" Hermione groans, rubbing the space between her eyes as a non-pregnancy related headache forms. Then she realises what people will think when it's revealed that she's pregnant.

"There's been a lot of slow news days recently, and since the situation hasn't been resolved, people are even more convinced that the affair rumours are true," Alicia explains.

"They follow me too," Pansy admits. "'Oh poor girl, she didn't even know.' 'Are you sure she didn't know?' 'She's a Slytherin. Do you think she would have sat back at allowed her husband to sleep with her friend?' I've heard it all." After having fun imitating the voices of the gossipers in Diagon Alley, she shrugs.

"Wait, are people taking your side?" Alicia asks.

"Of course, my husband cheated on me," Pansy shakes her head, sipping her wine.

"You're husband did not cheat on you," Hermione frowns.

"He emotionally did," Pansy shrugs.

"That's bullshit, Pansy!" Hermione snaps.

Her eyes catch Pansy's, and she sees the shift as her friend smiles, "Yeah, I'm just taking advantage of the situation." She shrugs.

"Have you thought about how this affects me?" Hermione asks Pansy pointedly.

"People still love you, Hermione," Angelina comments, but the two women ignore her.

"Oh," Pansy's eyes flicker to Hermione's stomach.

"Yes, what are people going to think?"

Pansy's eyes widen, "That Ron… oh, no!"

"Exactly!"

"I'll fix this," Pansy downs the rest of her drink, handing it over to Hermione. "Ladies," she nods. The four confused women watch as she storms over to Ron.

The man stands abruptly, stepping back as his wife gets closer, a determined look on her face.

"You, with me, now," she orders, pointing to around the corner of the house.

Unsure of what else he can do, Ron follows her. When she stops, so does he, a good few feet away from her.

"Pansy," Ron began, his voice breaking. "I've missed you." He admits, not realising he's said it until it's out in the open.

Pansy looks away, "I've missed you too."

"Then can we please fix this? I am so sorry, I'm more sorry about this than anything else, and I've been sorry about many things. I make many mistakes, but none I regret more than making you feel like I didn't love you. I love you so much, and not because you gave me two beautiful children, but because you're wonderful, you get me more than anyone else ever has, and you're gorgeous-" Pansy smiles at that last adjective.

"I want to fix this, I do, but you have to understand how shit you made me feel by admitting you love Hermione, platonically or not. I know she was your first crush, your first love; you wanted to marry her for Merlin's sake. You wrote her name on your questionnaire. I knew that before we were even paired together. I've spent our entire marriage comparing myself to Hermione." Pansy admits, staring sternly at Ron's feet, forcing herself not to cry. "I hated you, but I knew I couldn't divorce you, and you made it clear you weren't going to divorce me, so I decided, why not try to make this work."

"Please, Pansy," Ron steps forward, already crying. "I don't want you to compare yourself to her."

"I knew the type of woman you were into," she ignores him. "And I was constantly second-guessing myself. Am I smart enough? Kind enough? Pretty enough? Do you prefer kissing me? Do you prefer my food? I changed everything about myself to try and win you over, and then I read that article." She can't hold the tears back anymore. "Reading that article hurt more than anything else ever could hurt me because it confirmed everything I had been telling myself. No, I'm not smart enough, kind enough, or pretty enough. After everything I had done to win you over, you still loved her more than me."

"That's not true," Ron reaches out but doesn't touch her; he doesn't know if he's allowed to touch her. "I love you so much, Pansy. I don't know how to fix this." His hands find his hair, and he pulls the long strands hard. "I don't know how to fix this. Tell me how to fix this; I'll do anything." He sobs, sliding down the side of the house to his knees. "You are so much more than Hermione. I don't give a shit about smart or kind, and you know how beautiful I find you." He mutters.

Pansy sits beside him in the grass, not caring about staining her dress. She doesn't speak, just listens because she doesn't know what he can do to fix this, to fix her and the way she feels.

"I'm so stupid. I've always felt intimidated by just how clever she is, but you are smart, you are so smart, but you don't make me feel dumb. You don't roll your eyes and mutter 'Ronald' when I say something stupid; you smile like you find it endearing. I'm never afraid of saying something stupid around you." He admits.

Pansy reaches out for his hand, squeezing it to let him know that it's true. She's always felt stupid compared to Draco and knows how it feels to be mocked for not knowing something.

"I've known you for ten years, Pansy, in many different ways, and you've been a bitch for most of those years, and you can still be a bitch; I find it hot when you are one, but you're also so kind to those that matter. I look at the way my mother dotes on you and know just how kind you can be because my mother would never have accepted you into our family if you weren't." Ron sniffles, having stopped crying but keeping a tight hold of his wife's hand.

"I do love your mother," Pansy smiles. "She's been there for me when my mother hasn't."

"I'm pretty sure my mother loves you more than me," he jokes.

Pansy shakes her head and squeezes his hand, "I know you feel like the least out of the Weasley children, but your parents and siblings do care about you so much."

"You know me so well," Ron glances off across the fields. "I wish we could turn back time to after the war, but with the knowledge of what we know now."

"Why, what would you change?" Pansy asks.

"I would know how amazing you are, and I would have said 'Fuck house rivalry' and asked you out that summer we were rebuilding Hogwarts," Ron admits.

Pansy's eyes soften, reading between the lines of what he was saying. The Daily Prophet had announced Ron and Hermione's relationship during that summer. He wishes they could go back to before then and stop it all from happening.

"How have the twins enjoyed the garden?" He asks, obviously having been eager to bring up his children.

"What garden?"

"At the cottage," he clarifies.

"We've been living at Hermione and Draco's; I couldn't bear to move in there without you," Pansy admits.

Ron smiles softly, caressing her hand, "Neither could I."

"Where have you been living?" She asks.

"Between here and Grimmauld Place."

Pansy nods, eyes falling to their clasped hands and entwined fingers, "I think it's time we move into our home."

Ron breathes sharply, sounding as though he's about to cry again, "Thank you," he mutters.

"Let's go now," Pansy suggests, standing to her feet. "Let's get the twins and go home." She grins.

Ron quickly scrambles to his feet, "First, there's something I want to do," he pauses, standing in front of her, then suddenly, his fingers are in the back of her hair. He's pulling her forward into the most passionate kiss they've ever shared, and they're crying all over again from the sheer emotion of being back together.

Question Time:

I like to ask my readers questions sometime to participate in the writing of this fanfiction. In the past, you have named Athena (the Owl), Phoebe and Philip Weasley, and Evelyn and Vivian Granger.

Now it's time to name another Malfoy baby. The baby isn't going to arrive for a few more chapters, but...

What should I name the new Malfoy baby?

Thank you so much for reading.

Please FAVOURITE, FOLLOW and REVIEW.