Disclaimer:

Harry Potter etc… owned by JKR, etc…

A/N: I don't think there were any obscure pop-culture references in the last chapter. Maybe Tiffany's little blue box, but I seriously hope that doesn't need explanation. If so, there is no hope for future generations of women.

I know I said five chapters, but they're turning out rather short, so it may actually take six or seven. Most likely six and a rather sappy epilogue.

Chapter Four: The lion who lay down with the serpent

Ron didn't feel like apparating home.

Didn't feel like using the floo, either. As he walked the sixty blocks from Grimauld Place to his flat, the pieces in his mind were beginning to come together, but he didn't like where they were going. The feeling of apprehension in his gut was nearly unbearable. He sighed. All he wanted, all he'd ever wanted was to protect Hermione. He considered giving up his scheme to ask her about the …he swallowed hard before he could even think the word….baby. On the one hand, if he asked her and she was straight with him, then he could forgive her and they could move on. On the other, she might lie and that might escalate into a full-blown schism. Ron could only think of one acceptable outcome of the entire thing: he had to keep her, no matter what she said. He'd already lost Harry and that had nearly killed him. If it wasn't for Hermione, it probably would have. No matter what she said or how he really felt about it, he would say he forgave her, he decided.

About half-way home, he decided he was in need of a little liquid courage, so he stopped into a little pub run by wizards. It was what, these days, was called a mixed place. It wasn't hidden from the muggles at all, no secrecy wards, nothing. Even though the wizards running it dressed like muggles and refrained from using magic in the running of the establishment, they made no such demands on their clientele. One of the things Ron loved about this set-up was the complete and total denial by the muggles that anything was amiss. The Ministry had assigned a full-time oblivator to work at the place as security for the first few months it was open, but it actually had on of the lowest number of magic-in-front-of-muggles incident reports outside of Diagon Alley. The muggles who frequented The Restaurant at the End of the Universe either attributed the odd things they saw to drunkenness or didn't see them at all. He chuckled. Sometimes it was hard to see what was sitting right in front of your face.

Upon entering, he noticed Neville Longbottom sitting at a table in the back with a leggy blonde (will wonders never cease?). Neville hadn't noticed him and he didn't particularly feel like company, so he made a concerted effort not to be seen. He ordered a firewhiskey and took the long way round the lounge before sitting behind a large sago palm, which was actually the only thing separating his table from Neville's, but hid him from his brother-in-arms, just the same. He closed his eyes and tried not to think about the events of the last few days. He could hear Neville's date talking. He decided to listen, not that eavesdropping was something he normally did; he just wanted a nice, normal distraction.

"You must know something" she purred. Ron frowned, did he know this woman?

"I told you, we're not close"

"But you work together, live in the same place. The Headmaster tells me you're working on a project together."

"That doesn't mean anything, despite the impression you might have gotten because of our interaction during the war, we are not friends. We barely tolerate one another. Besides, if he knew what I…what….we've been doing, I doubt he'd spare a thought before disemboweling me"

She laughed, sounding very girly. "Neville, my dear, you've done nothing wrong. I may be his mother, but I'm still a woman; I still have needs". At this, Ron couldn't help but turn around and look. He had to slap a hand over his mouth to keep from emitting a curse loud enough to give him away. Neville was sharing a drink with Narcissa Malfoy whose right hand was sitting very high on his left thigh!

"Still, I know you'll tell me what I want to know. You always give me what I want." Here, her voice became low and seductive. It was enough to turn the stomach of the strongest auror. Ron tried to look away, to get up and leave, but it was like watching a train wreck. He stayed glued to the spot. It was obvious from the tone of Longbottom's voice that he was a) nervous and b) slightly inebriated.

"Alright, alright. I'll tell you what I know. Help me; I can't remember what I told you last year. I…did I ever tell you that he is the one who petitioned Snape to make Muggle Studies mandatory for every student?"

"Yes dear, you've told me that several times (Ron frowned, that was years ago. How long had Neville been sneaking around with Malfoy's mum?) Tell me something about the project you're working on together"

"Yes, well, together isn't a very good description. You see, it's a potions book. Easy, practical household potions you can brew with everyday items. It's going to revolutionize housewifery, I'd say. I'm writing the section about Herbology, obviously, giving tips about growing common garden plants, etc... Mal...er...Draco is writing about the actual brewing. We're getting some help from the new Care of Magical Creatures teacher, Professor Sullivan."

"Ooh. That sounds lovely"

"Yes, we'd hoped to have it done, but it's taking a bit longer than expected and will be delayed another few months by the summer break."

"You can't work during the summer?"

"Of course we can, but your son won't. He goes away every summer." Here, he held up a hand "Don't ask where; I don't have the faintest idea. You know, he yawned, I really should go. It's very late."

"Oh. Don't run off yet, the night's still young. Here, have another drink." Neville complied with her request. "Excellent. He's never mentioned where he disappears to? Well, how about with whom? Is it a woman?"

"No, definitely not a woman"

"Are you sure? I was certain there was a woman."

"Oh, I'm positive"

"Neville, are you insinuating that my son's lover is a man?"

"Oh, no, no of course not. I'm pretty sure he's at least mostly straight. He does have some sort of dainty qualities, though" he chuckled and Ron chuckled right along with him. He couldn't agree more.

"If there's not a woman, perhaps there are several. His father always liked to play the field, even after we were married." She smiled, but her eyes were narrowed and angry.

"To my knowledge, there is no woman. He avoids women all together; says they're more trouble than they're worth and has taken some kind of self-imposed vow of chastity or something. The only women he interacts with are the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher and his students, but he has a reputation for being very cold toward them. Of course, that doesn't stop every girl second year and above from making cow eyes at him. It's revolting. Even some of the female staff have been known to moon over him. Yesterday, as every year on his birthday, there was a comical parade about the school as dozens of well-meaning teen-aged witches attempted to bring him cakes and presents. He, having experienced this deluge in years past, charmed his door to confuse anyone attempting to enter so they wound up on Professor Lupin's doorstep."

"How is dear Nymphadora?" I haven't seen her in a swan's age. "You said she's the only other woman besides students he has anything to do with. Do you think they're kissing cousins?"

"Hell no. She's still pining over Remus, poor thing. I don't think she'll ever get over his death."

"Yes, I imagine it's quite tragic, losing one's mate"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Cissy. I didn't mean to be such an insensitive lout. I know it must be hard for you" She laid her head on his shoulder.

"You know, I don't know why you don't just approach him yourself. Whatever happened between you can't be as bad as all that. I would intervene on your behalf, but he's not likely to listen to me"

"Neville?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think Draco is pining?"

"Over a woman? It doesn't seem like a very Malfoyish thing to do"

"Yes, but as you've just pointed out to me, it is a very Blackish thing to do"

"Hmmm. You might be right."

Ron decided he'd had enough and made his way to the door, leaving the (shudder) lovers behind. Still he couldn't help but smile; thinking of the look on Malfoy's face when he found out Longbottom was poking his mother. What he wouldn't give to see that. Divine justice, if you asked him, and speaking of divine justice, he'd love to know just who the little minx was that had broken Malfoy's heart. No less than he deserved, the prick. He'd like to shake that woman's hand. He was still musing to himself as he entered the flat. Hermione was awake and had been crying again. Well, here goes, he thought.

"'Ermione? You okay?"

"Yes. I… I was worried about you. I awoke and you were gone"

"I went to see Ginny. No need to worry"

"Ginny? Oh, has she had the baby?" She sniffed.

"No, not yet. Though if you ask me, she'd better pull up after this one. Zarek is a year old and still not sleeping through the night." Hermione nodded, but he knew she hadn't heard a thing beyond no.

"Hermione?" He made to sit next to her on the sofa and pulled her close, closing his eyes breathing in the scent of lemongrass upon her pajamas.

"Hmm?"

"We need to talk…about June 5th"

"It's the 6th, Ron"

"No, I mean about every June 5th"

"Oh"

"I want you to tell me the truth. I promise, no matter how bad it is, whatever you have to say, I'll listen and hold my tongue until you're through."

She looked up at him and Ron's breath caught. She was clearly afraid of telling him, her eyes were wide and her pupils little pinpoints in the iris. He thought he'd make it easier for her

"I know part of it. I figured it out"

"You did?"

"Yeah. I mean, there are the pictures and then (he hesitated here because he didn't want to betray Ginny's confidence) I know about the cup and well, after the problems we've had… I guess I kind of put two and two together. I know you had a baby, sometime in the past, probably seventh year. God, it's hard to even wrap my mind around it, but there it is."

"Is that all you know?" She pressed her face into his chest; he thought she might be trying to avoid looking into his eyes. If she was going to lie, it would be soon.

"Well, I …I think maybe the baby died. You miscarried or it was stillborn. Listen, Hermione, it doesn't matter to me if you accidentally got pregnant before we were married. We all did things during the war we wouldn't otherwise normally do. It's how we survived. It's not your fault and I forgive you for keeping this secret from me, but, I understand why you did"

He thought she would cry, but she hopped off of his lap and turned to face him, her eyes burned with anger. "Forgive me? You forgive me? I'm sorry Ron, but you have put two and two together and come up with five! I don't require your forgiveness. How dare you make this about you! Anyway, you're wrong. The baby didn't die because of the war." She was shaking with anger and when she spoke, her voice was little more than a whisper. "I was too weak and immature to admit my mistake and so I made it go away. I brewed a potion to bring about labor and the child was born six months too early... His father took his body and ….I never even saw him. I don't even know where he's buried or what his name is...I...I killed him. I killed him and as a result of the horrible...potion I used, ... I ...might not ever ...conceive again!" Now she did cry, she collapsed in a heap on the floor and wailed her heart out.

Ron was too shocked to move for several long minutes. "What?….what?… no…no…wait...wait...who?... who was the father?"

"It doesn't matter. He hates me for aborting the child. He wanted us to get married. He had some delusional idea that we could take walks in the park, pushing a pram and change nappies together, with a war going on. We haven't spoken since he came to collect the baby's remains."

Ron felt like he might retch… "He…he sent you the cup, though, didn't he?

"Yes, I guess he couldn't let me be too happy. Couldn't let me forget what I'd done, as if that were possible"

"Who is it? Please, tell me"

"No Ron, it would just make it worse"

She stood and walked into the bedroom and closed the door. He could hear her sobbing and his heart ached. He wanted to go to her, comfort her, but at the same time, he was revolted by her callous admission. No wonder it was so terrible for her. June 5th must have been the day it happened. Dear God, he wished he'd never asked. He'd never look at her the same way again… and now, they might not be able to have children and he knew she meant it when she'd said a hundred times before that it was all her fault. He threw his head on the back of the sofa and cried silently. There would be no little redheads to fill his house with the garden. There would be no first broom rides or Hogwarts letters, no Cannons games, no one to pass his grandfather's chess set on to. He sat there a long time, letting his grief wash over him.

After a while, there was a tapping at the window. An owl appeared backlit by the first rays of sunrise. The owl was for Hermione, from St. Mungo's.

He carried it to the bedroom and knocked on the door.

"I'll understand if you want to go" she said

"Huh? Go? No, Never. I love you. I'm not going anywhere"

"You don't hate me?"

"Maybe a little"

She sobbed "Good. I don't think I could know what to say to you if you weren't appalled by my actions. I hate myself, you know. I hate it, but I wasn't ready. God, and if I had done what...he…the father wanted, I'd have been unable to help Harry and …she cried for a fewmoments before continuing…. And then we wouldn't be together and whatever else I've done wrong…we…you and I, Ron…we're right."

He pulled her close and they both stood there crying, until he remembered the letter.

"Oh, I nearly forgot, you've received an owl"

She took it, opened it and gasped "OH NO!"

"What is it?"

She began running about the room, dressing as she went. "There's been an accident. Neville was trying to apparate and wound up in front of a muggle commuter train. Apparently, since his grandmother died, I am listed as his next-of-kin."

They hurried to St. Mungo's, bypassing the lobby as Hermione waived her healer credentials at the receptionist. Ron was feeling more than a little guilty. He knew Neville had been drinking and he left him to find his own way home. He wondered what happened to Mrs. Malfoy. Was she hurt too?

He got his answer as they came to a halt in front of the emergency ward and were greeted by a disheveled looking Draco Malfoy accompanied by Severus Snape, who looked every bit as surly as he ever had during potions class.

"Where's Neville? What happened?" Hermione said, hurrying up to Snape.

"Apparently, the drunken fool tried to side-along apparate himself to Wiltshire and wound up being hit by a muggle train."

"Is he…is he going to die?"

"No, fortunately, his natural defenses kicked in. He broke every bone in his body, but he'll live. He'll behealing for weeks on end, though."

"Who was with him?"

"My mother" came the cold, deadly voice of the Potions Master

"I don't understand."

"I saw them together, tonight at the Restaurant at the End of the Universe" Ron supplied

"They were drinking, but I didn't …I didn't feel like they wanted to be seen, so I left them alone:

"Weasley, are you insinuating that my mother went on a…date? With Longbottom?"

"I'm just telling you what I saw"

"Well, you saw wrong."

"Is she very seriously injured?" Hermione asked, placing a hand on Malfoy's forearm, which he immediately jerked away.

"She'll be fine, just a few cuts and a fractured skull. She should be on the mend and ready to go home within the hour" Snape explained. "We've been asked to wait over there" he said, pointing to a small, private waiting area. They all stepped into the waiting room and began what was to be a very long, very tense wait.