Hello again!

First of all, I need to acknowledge the amazing work of the best betas in the world, Cheesyficwriter and RomioneB. YOU DA BEST!

I also want to thank all the lovely people who have left reviews of chapter 1. I really really appreciate it.

The wizarding world, characters included, belongs to J.K. Rowling. The only thing I own is an insane obsession for Ron Weasley.

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Ten more minutes, just ten more minutes 'til freedom.

I had been checking my watch so much the last few hours that I was starting to grow muscle in my neck. Being my last workday before starting my holiday leave, you'd think that I was eager to reach the end of the day so I could be free. But the freedom I was seeking was of the mind, not work. After the shocking news Hermione had fired at me the day before, what I was craving the most was good old Whiny Friyay.

It had all started a few years ago when Harry married Ginny, leaving me alone in the flat above the shop. As I was a bit lonely, George took pity on me and began to come every Friday after closing the shop just to talk and say bye for the weekend. Within time, Harry started to join us. After a few months, realising that all we did was complain about work (me) and wives and kids (them), George baptised it "Whiny Friyays".

It all worked out like this: you steamed up during the week, got to Whiny Friyay, released all the stress, and then got a happy weekend. So, every Friday we'd meet at the flat, chat for an hour or two, then move on. The talk would come free of judgment and with a complimentary glass of Firewhiskey. And it was just what I needed.

At five o'clock sharp, Harry and I left the Auror Headquarters to floo home. As soon as I stepped out of the fire, I caught a glance at George, settled on the couch with three glasses of Firewhiskey already served.

'Ginny?' I asked with a half smile.

On cue, Harry stumbled out of the floo, and George pointed at him saying, 'Specky snitcher, actually.'

'Well, you were bound to know anyway.' I shrugged and went to drop on the couch next to George. We both stared at Harry whilst he cleaned the soot from himself before coming to sit on the settee next to me. I heard George move and turned to see him take a sip of Firewhiskey.

'So, Ronniekins. Dear brother, Potter here told me that you found out yesterday about Hermione's plan to get pregnant, am I right?' I nodded. He raised his glass to Harry and me to encourage us to drink so we all took a sip. I felt the warmth spreading down my throat and took another gulp, this time a little bigger.

'D'you want to talk about it?' George asked softly, before sipping his drink again.

'I don't want to. But, I reckon I need to.' I answered.

I took whatever was left in my glass in just one gulp. If I was going to talk about yesterday, I needed the sodding drink. Then, I proceeded to tell them the entire story about Hermione's discovery of her old planner and all she'd told me about her motherhood plan, including the "help me find a donor part". By the end of my recollection, they were on their second glass, with me on my third.

George left out a long whistle and patted me on the shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. 'How do you feel now?' He asked as if treading lightly.

'Like hell.' I sighed and took a large gulp of Firewhiskey.

'I'm sorry I didn't tell you, mate.' Harry was staring at his glass with a grim look on his face. 'I wasn't supposed to know either, you know? I walked in on her telling Ginny last month and that's how I found out.' He was glancing at me now, a wary expression on his face. 'She'd made me swear on my kids that I wouldn't tell you anything until she did. Mind you, I never expected to take her this long to let you know. It's been a hell of a month.' He breathed out the last part.

'S'fine, mate.' I shrugged. 'It's just that...' I sighed and took some deep breaths before continuing, failing to control my rising anger. 'She, sh–fuck! She asked me to–to help her to find a sperm donor, can you believe that shit?' I sputtered.

'And what did you expect, Ron? That she'll ask you for another kind of help?' said George.

'Well, yeah, no. I mean…' At the loss of words I threw my arms angrily into the air and groaned. 'What the hell is wrong with my sperm?'

'As much as I'd love to discuss the quality of your lovely seeds,' jested George, 'I believe it's not the milk, little brother. It's the box. Too familiar. It'd make things weird between you two.'

'What do you mean?'

'I mean that that ship has sailed, Ronniekins.' He sniggered. But at the look on my face, he frowned and hastily added, 'Don't get me wrong. At some point, we all thought you two would become an item. But then, you didn't. And now it's too late.'

'Yeah, he's right. You're in the friendzone now, Ron,' supplied Harry.

'I–I'm not in the–'

'Yes, you are,' quipped George. 'You didn't make your move and she put you in the friendzone. You've been there for so long that you're not just in the friendzone you're the king of the friendzone. Alpha male friend, big brother vives, all protective and all. Sounds familiar?'

'I'm not in the friendzone.' I snapped. Was this what everybody assumed? I thought. Was this what Hermione assumed? Shit. I shook my head in disbelief.

'Look, if I'm in this friendzone you say – which I'm not, by the way. But, if I'm in it...she didn't put me there. It was a mutual decision.' I tried my best to sound nonchalant. There you go, Weasley, dignity restored.

At this, George blew a raspberry, shoving his arms through the air and dropping himself back on the couch in an exasperated move. Harry patted me on the shoulder, shaking his head, then added, 'Yeah, mate. Whatever helps.'

Harry checked the clock on the wall and gasped at the time. 'Well, it's time for me to go home. If I'm late again for supper Ginny will hex my balls off.' He drank the rest of his Firewishkey in one gulp and then added with a grimace, 'I reckon that, with the third child on the way, the threat sounds way more real now that she doesn't need them. Bye, then.' He stood up, took one long step towards the chimney and waved to us whilst throwing the floo powder at the fire. He left in one fluid movement.

George waved absently at Harry, looking at the ceiling as if help would come from some supreme force above us. All of a sudden, he straightened up.

'Take care of yourself, little brother.' he said, ruffling my hair. Then he stood up, went to grab his cloak and turned around, with a sad smile, adding, 'Fred would be thrilled to see that you are the most desired bachelor in wizarding Britain.' George let out a half happy, half sad chuckle while staring at his feet before he looked back at me. He had a soft but determined expression on his face.

'Go make him proud, have fun. Please don't go wasting such a prize by swooning over a bird that can't love you back. We all love Hermione but she's moved on, Ron. You should too. You're here, you're alive, so go live.' He already had his wand out before he finished talking and, with a loud pop, he Disapparated.

I was left there thinking about what Harry and George had said. They kept telling me to move on as if it was so easy. Well, it wasn't, not for me at least. I couldn't just give up, could I? No, I said to myself. Sod the friendzone. That's not even a real thing, is it?

The next few days passed in a blur and before I knew it, it was New Year's Eve. As was tradition now, the party would be held at the Potters. I was at home, almost ready to depart when I heard a soft pop coming from the living room. A smile immediately spread across my face. I would recognise that Apparition sound anywhere.

'Are you decent?' Hermione asked tentatively.

'Well, I'm already dressed and covered,' I called, then heard the sound of steps coming towards the room. I waited 'til Hermione peeked her head through the door frame before I added, ' As for being decent…opinions are quite diverse.' I grinned.

'Prat.' She smirked.

I shrugged and turned into the mirror to finish my hair. I saw her reflection walking to my bed and sitting on the edge. She was plucking an invisible fluff from her thigh and I used the distraction to drink in her appearance. She was wearing a red silky blouse that draped elegantly and clenched on the most delicious parts of her upper body, tucked inside of a pair of very tight, skinny black trousers. Her hair was nestled in a bun, leaving a few curls framing her face. My eyes roamed down her neck and I had to bite my lower lip to hold a groan when I took sight of the skin on her collarbone, blessedly visible due to an upper button she decided to leave undone. It was so simple and yet, she looked incredibly sexy. She was 'so fucking gorgeous.'

'You don't look so bad yourself,' she giggled. I was startled by her remark, as I hadn't realized that I spoke out loud.

'Well, you see, I'm not the most luscious wizard in Britain for nothing,' I joked. She laughed harder. 'Oi!' I turned to her, hands on my hips, pretending to be offended. 'It's not me that is saying it. I've been awarded the most desirable bachelor two times in a row. I'm extremely appealing.' At the last part, I moved my arm from my head to hip, as if showing off all my assets.

Hermione shook her head, amused, then patted the bed next to her, inviting me to sit. I did as she asked, walking exaggeratedly, still trying to divert the focus from my previous blabbing. I decided that a change of topic was needed.

'Why are you here, Hermione?' I asked, 'Not that it bothers me, mind. But we're supposed to be at the Potters in about ten minutes.'

She glanced at me and took a deep breath to calm herself before she answered. 'Well. As you have not been working these past days and we haven't seen each other as much as I'd like, I wanted to take a few minutes to talk to you about the sperm donor search. And this was the only moment I could think of.'

'Oh,' I felt my heart drop to my stomach. 'What about it?' I was putting on my best innocent look and I knew she'd figure out sooner rather than later that I wasn't making any effort to find her a suitable donor. With the parade of gits that I'd been sending her, I was actually surprised that it took her this long to sack me off the job.

She straightened up. Her eyes pierced me with a questioning look. 'I want to know why you have been sending all these…vile men to me, Ron.'

'They're not vile! You are overreacting.' I said, waving my hand dismissively.

'Oh, believe me, they are.'

'Well, Hermione. The thing is, you didn't give a list of your desired attributes. So, I've been improvising.' I retorted.

'So it's my fault now?' She gaped at me. Then, crossing her arms in front of her chest and frowning, she continued, 'You know me well enough to know that the five different versions of McLaggen you'd made me meet are absolutely off of the list.'

'Wow, harsh.' I feigned being hurt, leaning a little back, lifting a hand to my heart. Her lips twitched, holding a smile.

'I'm being serious, Ron.' She was doing her best to keep up the pretence of being annoyed, but I knew her too well.

'Okay, okay. Then why don't you tell me more clearly what you are looking for? What do you want, Hermione?'

'What do I want?' She mused, untangling her arms to put them behind her. She leaned back and looked at the ceiling. Suddenly, she squealed and blurted out, 'A good sense of humour, that's it.'

'Dave was fun,' I quipped. She let her head drop to the side, frowning at me. 'Okay, okay. Dave was a git, I get it. So, a sense of humour. What else?'

Hermione resumed her previous position, now biting her lip in deep thought. After a few seconds, she spoke again.

'I want the father of my child to be a confident man. I also want him to be smart, clever...uhm...caring…and sociable,' She looked back at me. 'You know, because I have a lot of trouble making friends. So, it'd be great if the father is outgoing and passes along that trait to the kid to provide some balance.' I was about to tell her that I knew a redheaded bloke that could fulfil most of her list but she spoke first.

'If it's not too much to ask, I'd like him to be tall. If I have a boy, I'll want him to have tall genes – Are you mad? Why are you frowning?'

'I am not,' I said, lifting my eyebrows, 'see?'

'You were.'

'Anyway,' I dismissed and she slowly shook her head. 'This bloke,' I continued. 'You want him to be handsome too? Cause I see that the list is getting bigger.'

'Not necessarily handsome, I think. But, I wouldn't mind if he is attractive too.'

'Well, we wouldn't want the little one to look like a troll, would we?' I joked.

'You are insufferable.' She sneered. 'Anyway. To summarise, I need to find an interesting, tall man who is also clever, easy-going, confident and has a strong sense of fam – you're doing it again! Why are you wrinkling your face like that?!' She was pointing at me and I immediately looked down. I caught a glimpse of my watch and thanked Merlin for the time and parties.

'Woah, look at the time!' I squawked, as I hopped to my feet and hastily went to grab my jacket and put it on. Hermione was looking at me, gobsmacked, so I offered her my hand to help her up. She wasn't moving, so I fluttered my hand and added, 'We better go now, or we'll be late, and you know how Ginny gets.'

She frowned and shoved my hand away, standing up by herself. Then, left the room shaking her head and muttering to herself something that I couldn't hear.

Once alone in the room, I turned to the mirror. I stood there, surveying myself, and started to check Hermione's list. I knew that I had almost everything she wanted. We'd been together once, surely I could convince her to give me another chance. This time there was no war, no grief, no recovering parents from foreign countries, and no going away to study. This time, nothing will bugger this up.

I was already starting to weave a plan, involving New Year's and a kiss, when I heard Hermione calling that she'll see me at the Potters, just before the familiar sound of her Apparition. I took a last glance at the mirror and nodded at myself, jaw set, feeling determined. Then, I took my wand and Disapparated.