That night, after closing up the store with Harry, Ron stormed to his flat in downtown London. He was now sitting in his dark living room, with a cup of firewhisky. It helped his brooding. After some time, Ron slammed his cup down on the coffee table, walked to the kitchen, picked up the phone and slowly started dialling the Burrow. He had given his father a 'fonytell' when Arthur became the new Minister of Magic.

Ron was sitting in the living room at the Burrow playing Exploding Snap with Harry, when Mr. Weasley's clock hand turned from work, to travelling, and finally to home. Almost instantly, Mr. Weasley swung open the kitchen door and strode into the house.

"Where's my beautiful wife?" he asked with an unusual amount of cheer in his voice. At that time, Voldemort had been growing stronger and Harry Potter was nowhere to be seen. Arthur had been working seven days a week and staying late every night, dealing with the muggle artefacts that Death Eaters had charmed. When Mr. Weasley came home early enough for his family to see him he always looked tired and stressed. They hadn't seen him smile in months.

"What happened, Arthur?" Mrs. Weasley asked, suspiciously. She hadn't had a happy husband in months.

"Oh, nothing much, love. You know, the usual. Well…" his voice trailed off.

"Arthur, what happened?" She asked, now almost in a state of panic.

"I think we should wait until the whole family's here," He announced, bouncing on his heels.

"The whole family?" She asked. "We haven't had the whole family home in years."

"Yes, love, the whole family." And with that Mrs. Weasley hurried off to the kitchen to write letters telling her five eldest sons to come home immediately.

Twenty minutes later, the whole Weasley clan was sitting at the table.

"What's going on, Dad?" Bill asked, suspicious of his father's cheer.

"Well… family…I have been promoted-" he was cut off by his wife.

"Oh Arthur! That's wonderful!"

"I haven't even gotten to the good part yet. Hold on. I have been promoted to… Minister of Magic!"

The whole family was ecstatic. Ron looked across the table at his sister, and saw her crying tears of joy.

Ron stared at the telephone, and began to cry. "How could she have changed so much?" he asked himself. "How could she have faked her death, just to run off with that ferret?" He spat out the last word, and little droplets of spit landed on the wall. Somebody finally answered the phone.

"Hello?" the voice on the other end asked.

"Mom" he choked out. Mrs. Weasley's reaction was almost instantaneous.

"Ron! What's wrong? What happened? Is Harry OK?"

"Yes Mom. Harry's fine, it's Ginny." He heard a gasp, followed by a thud. Mrs. Weasley had fainted. He heard someone casting a spell in the background and then the phone was picked up.

"Hello?" Ron heard his father's strong voice on the other end. "Who's this?"

"Hi, Dad."

"Oh, hello Ron. What did you tell your mother? She fainted, and now she's crying."

"Dad, I need to talk to you guys. I think everybody else should be there too."

"OK, son. I'll go owl them now. What's this family meeting about?"

"Well, Dad…" he said, his voice wavering. He had stopped crying by now. He just couldn't get his voice to remain steady. "It's about Ginny."

"Ginny?" His father asked. "But she's…"

"Dad I can't talk about it right now. Just get everybody home. I'll be there soon." At that he hung up and went to his foyer, the only apparatable room in his flat, and apparated to the Burrow.

"What are we going to do now?" she asked, panic rising in her voice.

"Shut up Ginny!" Draco yelled. "You've screwed up our plans!"

"Me?" She yelled back. "I screwed up our plans?"

"Yes! You were the one who had to go shopping today!"

"Excuse me, but Harry and Ron would have been there any day that we went shopping, so don't even start that 'Its-your-fault' shit with me because I just don't give a damn!"

"I told you to shut up, little bitch" yelled Draco. With that he grabbed her upper arms and threw her into the wall. "Now stay there, and shut up while I think!"

She stopped talking, but she started thinking. She knew that her old friends at Hogwarts would not have let her marry a man that treated her like this, which is why she faked her death in the first place. None of them understood. They weren't taught the true face of love, and they didn't have an excellent teacher like Tom Riddle. As she sat there on the floor crying silently for she had learned early on in her marriage that Draco didn't like to hear her cry after he hurt her. He said that it reminded him of his mother, which in turn reminded him of his father. So, she sat there remembering how Tom had taught her when she just twelve years old that love was not sweet little kisses and picnics by the lake. That was fake love. True love was painful. It wasn't love unless someone was lying on the floor broken and battered. It wasn't love unless the kisses hurt and the sex broke bones. And, thanks to his Quidditch training, Draco was the aggressor.

"I know what you're going to do." Draco finally announced. "You are going to go to you're parents' house and profess your love for me." After noticing the look on her face, he added, "And if that doesn't work, tell them the go and fuck themselves."

"Draco…I can't do that to my family. They think I've been dead for the past three years. I mean, honestly! I can't go waltzing into my house, expect to be welcomed, tell them that I love you, and if they have any problems, they can go screw themselves." She cowered beneath the glare that he gave her. "Draco…"

"Shut up, you useless wench! You are going to go to your parent's house, and you are going to tell them that you love me, and that you want to spend that rest of your life with me, and if they disapprove, you are going to tell them to go and fuck themselves. Now, go take a shower and get into bed. You leave tomorrow morning."