Any characters or storylines mentioned here belong to JK Rowling and the world of Harry Potter

Big thanks to my beta kabg01

Hermione was not making any attempt to look as though she was working and was instead slumped at her desk with her head resting on a pile of parchments. After Draco had gone, she hadn't been able to sleep and had just laid in bed, watching the patches of light from the moon move across the ceiling. For once the intelligence that she had so taken for granted had deserted her, making her feel restless. At about five am, when the light had started to turn golden, and the birds began their morning chorus, she admitted had defeat and got up out of bed and headed in to work. The Security wizard had looked surprised to see her so early but the steely look in her eye prevented him from commenting on it. All morning she oscillated between panic, and indignation at every male wizard she had ever met. It was half past one and she was trying to decide whether to head to the meeting or go up to the floor above and hand her wand in when a shadow fell across her.

She sat bolt upright, praying it wasn't Amos Diggory. The thought that it might be Draco sparked a queasy thrill of excitement in her stomach but her mouth fell open when she saw it was Ron.

"What are you doing here?" she snapped.

"Well I thought I was here to help you out of a massive cock up of your own creation but if you'd rather I buggered off, then that suits me. I've got better things to be doing with my day than lying to the ministry about giving a damn about you. Perhaps your boyfriend's here to go with you instead?" he carried out a completely unnecessary and overly dramatic sweep of the office with his eyes.

"Oh you just love this don't you!" Hermione exclaimed, her hands in fists at her sides. Despite the rational part of her mind telling her that Ron was here, that he was going to help her and that possibly, just possibly, she had been in the wrong, she couldn't help herself getting angry at the infuriating man.

Ron stood with his hands on his slim hips "oh yeah Hermione, I love getting slapped by the girl I was seeing because she saw the betrothal announcement the Ministry stuck in the Prophet. I love being the laughing stock of London because everyone thinks you're cheating on me with Malfoy. I love the idea of lying to the Ministry, especially as their contract with Weasleys' Security Services is coming up for renewal. And most of all, I'm loving all of the quality time I'm getting to spend with you,"

"Alright, alright," she huffed, "I'm sorry,"

"That's the second time you've apologised to me now, you want to be careful."

Hermione smiled grimly, "Ron, we wriggle out of this today and you might even find me being grateful."

He reached out and touched the back of his hand to her forehead, mock concern on his face.

"Well, you've managed to fool Umbridge before. Do you think we ought to call her Professor?" Ron sniggered, his anger at Hermione seemingly dissolved in favour of facing a common enemy.

"I've got a list of names I want to call her that's as long as Merlin's beard, and Professor isn't one of them." Hermione growled.

They travelled in silence in the lift and then along the long, narrow corridor to the Betrothals and Marriages Office, but it wasn't one of the hostile, spiky silences that sat between them after some of their arguments.

As Hermione entered the room, she was thrown slightly. She didn't know what it was, just that the proportions seemed off - the room seemed smaller than it should be somehow. She gazed around, eyes narrowed, trying to figure it out, before putting it down to the sheer number of pastel shaded lace doilies, plates decorated with kittens and artificial flowers. Even Umbridge was capable of putting a simple stasis charm onto real flowers so she must actually prefer the plastic ones, Hermione realised curiously.

Umbridge was sitting with a whip thin, rodent faced man in a muggle pinstripe suit and tie that Hermione recognised as Aurelius Hazeldene, the head of the Betrothals and Marriages Office; behind an expansive, dragonhide topped desk. Two small wooden chairs faced the desk,

"Miss Granger, Mr Weasley, take a seat," Hazeldene smiled, gesturing to the uncomfortable looking chairs.

Hermione sat down and Ron followed, coughing furiously,

"Excuse me," he recovered quickly, "I'm just feeling a little hoarse," he eyed Umbridge, grinning in satisfaction at the way her face reddened from flabby neck up to the velvet bow atop her head, at the mention of the H word. The blush clashed horribly with her pink tweed robes, Hermione noted.

"I'm sure you're aware of why you're both here," Umbridge trilled.

"No idea," shrugged Ron, leaning back in the chair, his long legs sprawling out in front of him.

"Well firstly, I want to wish you congratulations on your betrothal. I was most surprised to hear about it, especially as it's common knowledge that the two of you have been on unfriendly terms for some time now. And the timing of your betrothal, just hours before the Marriage Law was announced, what a coincidence, wouldn't you say?"

Hermione bit, her deeply ingrained need to answer questions besting her once again, "It was a whirlwind romance. We did fall out but when we had a chance to talk again, we realised that the reason we were able to hurt each other so badly was that we loved each other so much. Deep down. Ron proposed and, well, I can't imagine spending my life with anyone else," she smiled and grasped Ron's hand, hoping that she hadn't overdone the 'kids in love routine' too much.

"Is that true Mr Weasley?" Umbridge asked, eyeing him like a vulture watches a dying animal.

Ron spoke slowly and earnestly, seeming to be choosing his words carefully, "Hermione Granger is the most intelligent, thoughtful, beautiful woman I have ever met. She's the first woman I ever loved, probably the only one, and I don't think I ever quite fell out of love with her, even when I hated her and we couldn't stand being within a mile of each other. She drives me wild, same as I do to her, but life's boring without a bit of excitement isn't it. I wake up every day, surprised that Hermione is my fiancé. And I'll swear all of that on veritaserum, " Hermione turned to look at him, heart pounding but he was just looking at his lap, the tips of his ears pinking. His acting skills were certainly improving, she marvelled. Umbridge just tutted at Ron's speech, looking sorely like she wanted to rock him house points.

"Miss Granger? I hope you understand how precarious your position is. The danger of sham marriages is a real one and goes against everything we are working towards. Therefore, we will do everything in our power to stamp them out. You always were well read as a child, perhaps you had time to peruse yesterday's copy of the Prophet," she slapped a copy of it down onto the desk triumphantly

"I try not to read the gossip pages Delores," she knew how using the older witch's first name, treating her like an equal, would infuriate her, "they are always full of lies. Frankly, I'm surprised you do, considering your views on honesty being the best policy," she put her hand, palm down onto the paper to let Umbridge know that she hadn't forgotten what she did to Harry.

"Forgive me, Miss Granger, perhaps I've been labouring under a misapprehension, are you claiming that these pictures aren't of you?"

"Of course they're of me, but if you look closely, there are Christmas decorations up in the window of the building behind us. These are old photos – they date back to before our betrothal. And your marriage law,"

Hermione could see Umbridge worrying the skin around her neck, sawing her hand back and forth over her skin, as she examined the picture. Hazeldene, who had been largely silent, didn't even bother to glance down at the paper and looked almost amused.

Umbridge looked furious and seemed to forget social niceties for a minute, "Have you had any sexual relations with Draco Malfoy or any man other than your betrothed since your betrothal?"

"No!" Hermione denied hotly.

"But you've wanted to," Umbridge pulled at her neck again in that same strange, unconscious movement.

Hermione was halfway out of her chair before Ron pulled her back,

"If she says she hasn't done anything that's all that matters. Thinking about things is allowed, surely. Or should I be confessing that I've got a Playwitch calendar up in the stockroom at the shop?"

"Still, I think –" Umbridge fluttered in her girlish voice.

"Delores," Aurelius Hazeldene drawled, "if she says she hasn't then that's all we can do,"

"I could fetch the veritaserum, like Mr Weasley said" she simpered. Hermione nearly retched at the way Umbridge was batting her eyelashes.

"Please do," she huffed, "and I'll still tell you the same thing. I haven't been having sexual relations with Draco Malfoy since I've been betrothed to Ron. I never have, in fact," she sat back, her arms folded. Unwelcome flashbacks to the night before, to just how close she had been to rendering that statement untrue, played through her mind.

"Oh – oh!" exclaimed Ron, grinning from ear to ear, "well there you go, surely she can't say any more than that!"

"There's no need for veritaserum, or any further interrogation. Ms Umbridge just gets a little….enthusiastic," his words slithered like a snake and in an instant, Hermione realised that he was the real danger here, not Umbridge, "the aim of our department is the repopulation of the wizarding world, the replenishing of magical blood, the forming of new bloodlines. We stand on a precipice, a knife edge Ms Granger, Mr Weasley, and it is down to the young – people like you, to save us from extinction, to prevent the magical spark from being extinguished."

The man was so charismatic, Hermione suspected he wore amortentia for aftershave. It took her a moment to follow the train of his thoughts,

"So this is a breeding programme?"

"If you must be so crude about it," Hazeldene acknowledged, looking unashamedly into her eyes.

"But that's barbaric!"

"It is necessary!" Umbridge hissed, her normal sweetness absent.

"But what's that got to do with us?" Ron asked

"As your affianced has guessed, I am sure, you two pose us a problem. Delores has outlined some of the reasons for this – the timing of your betrothal; the fact that you seem to enjoy the company of others a little too much; but also the fact that you seem to be making no progress towards getting married or reproducing. It's just a problem, being as you are both so famous – figureheads for your generation if you will,"

Hermione's hair was crackling with rage, "and I assume you have a solution for this 'problem' as you put it."

Hazeldene made a show of surprise, as though the thought hadn't occurred to him, "Oh, well. If you were to voluntarily enrol onto our programme, as a matched couple obviously, it would set an excellent example to other witches and wizards, as well as putting paid to any nasty rumours about the authenticity of your betrothal,"

"And what if we don't? Volunteer I mean," asked Ron, his face set in a stony mask.

Umbridge was positively gleeful, "But why wouldn't you want to? Surely if your betrothal is genuine, you were already intending to get married?"

"For argument's sake," Aurelius reasoned, spreading his hands wide to demonstrate the theoretical nature of what he was saying, "if it became apparent that a witch who met the criteria for the program was engaging in a sham betrothal to avoid complying with the law, the Repopulation Department would be acting within their power to dissolve the betrothal and match the witch with a suitable candidate under the Marriage Law. The wizard would be free to volunteer if he so wished, but that would be his decision," he finished slyly, watching Ron.

Hermione was about to bargain for time, to say they needed to speak to their families about it but Ron spoke,

"We'll do it."

Hermione gazed at him, open mouthed.

"Do you know what you're agreeing to?" she couldn't help herself whispering to him. His eyes flashed crossly at her.

"Oh here we go again. Hermione, I can read! And besides, Percy went through the whole thing with me –"

"I just –"

"Hem hem" Umbridge cleared her throat. Hermione had forgotten that irritating habit of her former professor.

"Just for clarity," said Hazeldene, "this would mean you would have to get married within a year of your betrothal,"

"Yes," Ron's chin jutted out stubbornly, "We never wanted a long engagement, did we 'Mione?"

"And you will submit yourself to regular medical monitoring, as well as accepting any help our trained healers believe is necessary to help you conceive?"

Hermione saw Ron swallow deeply but he reached over and took her hand, "we've always wanted a big family."

"Well, excellent then," Hazeldene leaned back in his chair, smiling. Hermione wasn't sure if he was happy to be getting what he wanted, or he had hoped for a different outcome, "Any questions? Or we can start drawing up the paperwork for the match."

"Just one," said Ron, "If we do all this – do everything you want – get married and go and get poked and prodded in the hospital, will you leave Hermione alone?"

"Of course, Mr Weasley," Hazeldene almost laughed, "We're not the villains you imagine, I assure you."

"Then sign us up."

oOoOoOo

"Mione?" Hermione questioned as they hurried out of the offices to the visitors' exit, which strangely enough for a building that was largely built underground, was at the top of a sweeping set of stone steps, several metres up from the street. From the outside it looked like a graffiti covered, derelict doorway, plastered with bill posters and thick with grime.

Ron grinned, "I thought it might make it seem more convincing, if I had a pet name for you,"

"I think we're the kind of couple that don't have pet names for each other, are we Won Won?"

Ron grimaced, "Maybe not. So that's it. We're getting married," his hands were in his pockets as he kicked a small stone and watched it skitter away down the steps.

"Sorry."

"S'alright. I kind of knew it wasn't going to be as simple as just getting betrothed and never speaking to each other again, didn't you?"

"I had hoped it would," Hermione admitted, wrapping her arms around herself tightly.

"Nah, nothing ever goes smoothly for us," he smiled, sadness crinkling around his eyes. He sat down on the marble step and Hermione followed suit. She sat closer than she would have done previously, their thighs touching,

"Still, thank you. You didn't need to do it for me. Especially as I messed everything up – with Malfoy, I mean."

"You can't help what you did before we were even betrothed. I'm sure the Prophet could print some pretty juicy pictures of me if they wanted to,"

"You aren't jealous?" Hermione was desperate not to poke the bear but she couldn't help herself, still not sure why he hadn't blown up that morning. She watched his ears for a warning sign but they remained resolutely pale.

"Oh yeah! Course I am – it's Malfoy isn't it. The thought of that git anywhere near you makes me want to rip his hands off and feed them to him. But I can't keep getting angry and flying off the handle at every little thing. Us wrecking our relationship and spending all that time hating each other, well, it gave me some perspective, made me see I didn't want to be that person any more. I spent all that time worrying I wasn't good enough for you, for my family, but I realised - I'm only second best if that's where I put myself."

"Just how many muggle self-help books did you read?" asked Hermione, her eyebrows practically in her hair.

"A few," he laughed. Hermione laughed too; glad to be able to share a moment of good humour with Ron. They lapsed into silence but it wasn't one of the painful, awkward ones of the past.

"Why did you come?" she asked eventually, her thirst for knowledge overcoming her desire for peace.

Ron looked surprised, "Like I said when we got betrothed, I don't wish you any harm. I know I might act like a prat some of the time. This mess isn't your fault, it's the Ministry. And well, we've always looked out for each other haven't we. Most of the time," he amended guiltily.

Hermione sighed heavily, "Ron, if this is some noble quest to make amends for abandoning us in the forest, I've told you hundreds of times, that's all forgotten. You came back. You saved my life in the chamber of secrets when that horcrux tried to drown me. I told you then, that makes us even."

"Well whatever it takes to protect you from all of this shit, I'll do it. I'd do the same for Harry."

"You'd marry Harry?" Hermione smiled

Ron pulled a face and they laughed again, before his face turned serious, "Look, Hermione, there's something I need to tell you."

Hermione started to protest, wanting to protect the delicate alliance that had formed between them, and scared of what might be coming along to shatter it,

"No, I need to tell you. I should have told you at the time only I promised I wouldn't…I said I wouldn't tell anyone and I haven't, not even Harry."

"You really don't need to-"

"It's about the joke shop. About me leaving the Auror department and going to work in the joke shop. I need to tell you the truth."

Hermione stopped arguing and listened. That had been the thing that had driven a whole stack of nails into the coffin of their relationship and piled so much straw onto the camel's back that its legs had collapsed under the weight of it. Things hadn't been perfect before, she couldn't deny it – they were too young, too famous, and too traumatised from the battle when they had both dived headlong into their relationship. But they had been just about keeping things going, treading water, when Ron had disappeared for nearly twenty four hours before returning home dishevelled and exhausted and dropped the bombshell that he had resigned from his work as an Auror to go help out in Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes.

Hermione had been furious before he'd even walked in through the door, having spent his missing hours being at first terrified for his safety, then sure he had run off with another woman. She had tried to talk him out of it, sure that the head Auror would welcome back his protégé who had even beaten Harry in his Auror exams. He had said he just wasn't bothered about being an Auror any more and that if Hermione cared more about the job than him, then he could introduce her to some of his colleagues.

That was when the glassware started to fly and Hermione screamed at him that of all the idiotic things he had ever done, what he was doing was probably the stupidest. He went to stay at the flat above the joke shop that night, and never came home again. She wasn't sure why they had been unable to get over that particular row but, for Ron at least, the shutters just seemed to have come down. They had tried to discuss it but it had always ended in screaming matches, both of them flaying over old wounds with insults devised and rehearsed over glasses of firewhisky and in the dead of tearful, sleepless nights. It went on for months but felt like forever, until the night of the War Survivors Benefit Gala where they both went too far – both said things that Hermione hadn't even been able to repeat to Harry, and they seemed to reach a mutual conclusion to pretend the other didn't exist.

"I lied," Ron took a deep breath, "about not wanting to be an Auror any more. That wasn't true," his hands were fists on his thighs, the skin of his knuckles white and taut. Hermione felt like she was on the edge of a precipice, about to step off, "It was – I did it for George. So I could work with George. Mum had made some cauldron cakes and asked me to take him some. He wasn't expecting me. The shop was all shut up so I went up to the flat. He – he – he'd made it all look like an accident – set out his kit like he was trying a new product and it went wrong. But he never tested new potions or anything on his own, him and Lee always did it together, for safety. He was slumped down in the chair…his mouth was all blue and foaming. It was horrible. Even worse than seeing Fred, you know,"

"What did you do?" Hermione's voice was barely more than a whisper.

"For a minute I was in a flap, thinking where could I get a bezoar from. In the end I just pointed my wand at him and said Accio Poison,"

Hermione had always admired Ron's ability to think clearly in a crisis, when she herself sometimes fell to pieces – their first year incident with Devil's snare came to mind, "Well that would have worked."

"Made a hell of a mess though," he admitted, "he was raving for hours, not really with it. Shouting for Fred and talking to him like he was there. I didn't dare take him to St Mungos, I thought they might send him upstairs, with the Longbottoms and Lockheart. He was staring in the mirror, going on about it being the Mirror of Erised. Took me ages to work out what he was talking about."

Hermione felt tears spill out from her eyes and she wiped them away roughly.

"Eventually he came to a bit and just started crying. Said he couldn't bear being on his own any more, that he wasn't made to be on his own, that he wanted to be with Fred. I told him he wouldn't have to be on his own – that I'd be there. Next day he was pretty sorry about what he'd done. Begged me not to tell anyone – promised he'd never ever do something like that again as long as I didn't tell mum or dad – he couldn't bear to let them down. He said I didn't need to but I told him I'd go and work in the joke shop, that I was sick of being an Auror and that I had some really good ideas. I don't know if he believed me or he just wanted to. And you know the rest," Ron finished with a sigh.

"Oh poor George, I never knew –"

"And that's why he made me promise not to tell anyone," Ron cut her off, "he didn't want people feeling sorry for him. You can't tell anyone either now. Promise."

Hermione nodded solemnly, "Well I lied too, at the gala. When I said that I didn't care about seeing you with Lavender."

Ron chuckled, "I might not be the most observant guy in the world but the fact you were practically spitting fire when you said it, well, that was kind of obvious."

"Hmm, I suppose I was a bit worked up."

"A bit! It was like being attacked by about ten howlers at once!" Ron protested but he was smiling, "It's all glamours, you know. Lavender. Her skin. She got attacked pretty badly by Greyback at Hogwarts. She's a mess underneath, she told me. They taught her how to do it at St Mungos,"

"You aren't going to tell me it was an act of mercy for her too?" Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"She was crying about it and saying how no one would ever fancy her again and then all of a sudden we were kissing. I was in a bit of a state. I'd been pretty much living on firewhisky and muggle cigarettes since we'd split up. I think – I think I just wanted to make you jealous. To hurt you."

"Well it worked," Hermione felt tired to her bones, exhausted from the weight of talking,

"Sorry," he muttered.

"Oh dear, maybe it's catching, now you've apologised" she smiled tentatively, " What would you have done if Umbridge had fetched veritaserum back there?"

"Taken it. I was telling the truth," Ron smiled bitterly, "I do wake up surprised every morning that we're betrothed. I mean, it's ridiculous isn't it. To say you're intelligent, well that's hardly a stretch is it. And you definitely drive me up the wall," he nudged her with his shoulder. He didn't mention any of the parts where he had said she was beautiful or that some part of him had never stopped loving her, and Hermione didn't remind him. "What….er….what about you?" He asked with forced casualness.

"I was telling the truth too."

Ron didn't say anything more, just nodded in response. They sat in silence for a moment, letting the truth settle down around them.

"So what now?" Hermione asked eventually.

Ron jumped up and extended a hand to her, "I think we need to go and tell mum she's got a wedding to arrange."