HELLLLOOOO DEARIES. Here's chapter for you. Happy reading. ;)

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Now on to the chapter!

Chapter 16

December 14 continuation

Saturday

~oOo~

They stared at each other for a long moment, neither moving. It wasn't until Albus dropped his eyes that Rose spoke up.

"What are you trying to do?" Rose's voice was low, her tone questioning. She watched her cousin as he fidgeted under her gaze. It seemed to Rose that while he was fine talking, or rather threatening Scorpius, the thought of talking to her made him uneasy.

They were standing in the back corner of the room, as far as they could get from the group. Rose had closed off her mental link with Scorpius, not wanting him to listen in to this conversation with her cousin. She'd fill him in later if he asked but for right now it was private.

Rose crossed her arms when she got no answer, "Albus answer me. What are you doing?"

Her cousin shook his head, his mouth set in a firm line. "Nothing Rose just... Just it's nothing. Sorry about yelling." He made as if to move away, but Rose was too quick. She stepped in front of him and blocked his path.

"Rose," Al grumbled. He tried to move around her again but Rose just moved with him.

"Rose stop, you're being childish."

"Oh, I'm the childish one?"

Al moved to the right and Rose stepped as well, moving forward almost causing them to touch. Al stumbled back in his haste to not touch Rose and fell back into the wall. Rose stepped forward, boxing him in.

Rose's glare was fierce as she looked at him."I'm not the one yelling and causing fights Ablus. I'm not the one accusing people of things. You're the one with the issue here, not me. So why don't you grow a pair and actually talk to me instead of causing problems with everyone around you?"

"Rose back up. I don't want to hurt you," Albus said in a low voice, eyes holding a look of slight panic at how close Rose was standing.

"No," Rose planted her feet, arms still crossed, eyes still determined. "You obviously have an issue but are too damn afraid to admit it. I'm not letting you walk away just for you to blow up at someone else. You are going to talk to me and you are going to tell me what's wrong. So we can stand here all night but until you talk to me we're not moving."

Albus let out a heavy sigh and his eyes finally met hers. His head tilted slightly to the side as he looked at her, his mouth turned down in a frown. They stayed like that for a moment, just looking at each other before Albus shook his head and let out a groan of frustration as he ran his hands roughly down his face.

"I'm just... " He sighed. "I'm just trying to look out for you Rosie. And I know you don't want me to, everyone keeps saying I need to just let this go but I can't. This whole thing is just making me really paranoid. Every time I look at your and Scor I can't help but want to... To.." He shook his head like he was unsure, "I just can't stand by and watch. This is all so sudden and I know how overwhelmed you've been, I know you've struggled with it and I just can't help but feel that Scor is.. I dunno taking advantage of this whole thing."

Rose sighed. She had come to terms with the fact that Albus would forever be the over-protective brother. It didn't mean it made it any less exhausting. "What are you trying to protect me from Al?"

Albus frowned, "Isn't it obvious? He's not right for you Rose. He's a player. He flirts with everyone! He leads girls on and messes with their feelings."

Rose gazed at her fidgeting cousin for a long moment. A frown pulled at her lips at his choice of words and she shifted her weight, studying him. A player? Really?

"Al, he's only been on like three dates to Hogsmeade. And I would know because the girls all bragged about it in the bathroom, between classes, during dinner and just about anywhere they could. They also bragged about how great of a kisser he is. Then they cried for a month because he broke up with them before it went further. That hardly counts as a player."

He did have a point about the excessive flirting though. Rose hadn't been blind to Scorpius and the girls of Hogwarts. As much as she had tried to ignore it she couldn't miss that Scorpius used to wink, tease, and flirt with just about anyone in a skirt. And all the girls had looked back. And fawned over him. And clambered for his attention. Rarely had there not been a girl hanging off his arm or giggling to her friend from across the room.

But that was the past. Since the bond, ninety percent of the female population considered him off limits. And while the other ten percent would try to flirt, Scorpius didn't look back. Now his eyes were on her. His smiles and winks were for her. His laugh and his jokes were hers.

The thought made her smile.

"He's not going to hurt me, Albus," her voice soft.

Al put his head in his hands, "you don't get it, Rose. It's the bond. It's messing with your head. Making you do things you don't actually want."

Rose frowned, a crease forming between her eyes. "Is this about the thing on the bleachers? Al, that wasn't what you thought it was. Scorpius and I have talked all this out and we are on good terms. We've decided that we are just friends, at least for the time being." Rose took a step closer to her cousin, "I know how to take care of myself. I'll be alright."

He shook his head violently, his eyes blazing, "No. No, you won't. Scorpius is going to hurt you and I'm not going to let that happen. You deserve better Rose. You deserve more."

Rose felt her frown deepen and the gears in her mind started to whir. Why was Albus so hell-bent on making sure she was not hurt? Why was he so emotional? It didn't seem to fit. The way he was acting was erratic, and while Albus was a very hot headed person who often doesn't think before he leaps, this didn't seem like him. Something was off. The way he acted seemed to spur from an emotion not connected to her and Scorpius and what they were doing.

When Rose didn't say anything Albus scoffed and shook his head."Forget it," Albus murmured, turning to go.

Rose let him take three steps before she called out to him, "Al."

He turned and looked back at her, his eyebrow raised in question. Rose narrowed her eyes slightly at him, her arms still crossed. She tilted her head. Should she push him further? Should she drop it?

"Al," She moved forward, her eyes meeting his, "Are you afraid of love? Or afraid of not being loved back?"

He blinked rapidly for a moment before his eyes darkened and his mouth pressed into a hard line. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes, yes you do." Voice quiet Rose took another step towards him. "You're afraid. That's why you're so scared for me. This is all hitting too close to home. You're terrified for me because you don't want to admit how scared you really are. So? Are you afraid of love? Or afraid of not being loved back?"

His eyes were hard, "I don't want to talk about this Rose."

"You used to talk about Abby all the time. Why'd you stop?"

Albus shook his head and crossed his arms. "Drop it, Rose."

"You have feelings for her Al, I know you do and I believe that they go beyond just liking her. I used to see it when you talked about her, that small smile you'd get." Rose looked over his face. His features pulled in tight lines, "You don't smile like that anymore, you don't talk to her or about her anymore. I don't think I have even seen you look at her of late. So why? What happened that you don't smile at the thought of her?"

His jaw clenched and his eyes bore into hers. "This is my problem Rose. Not yours." He turned and walked out of the common room, the portrait slamming hard behind him.

Rose sighed, her frown deeper than ever. She hadn't meant to make him angry, but once she had figured it out she just had to know more. And now she had even more questions. What had happened? Why was he acting like this?

She looked over to the fire again. Scorpius met her gaze, his own questioning. Rose just shook her head. She'd explain later. He held her eyes for a moment longer before giving the smallest of nods and turning back to the others.

Glancing around at them all Rose caught Mary staring at her with a calculating expression. Meeting the girl's eyes Rose watched as the look melted and a small smile graced her lips before her attention too returned to the others.

Rose focused back on the portrait hole for a moment before she sighed and made her way over to the fire. She didn't know what was wrong with Al, but one thing she knew was that it was going to be hard to find out.

~oOo~

Owls. So many bloody owls. Ron didn't think he had ever had so many owls in a single day. Owls bringing news and updates. Owls bringing items and packages filled with mostly useless things. Owls simply sitting on his desk hooting impatiently for their letter of reply.

It was enough to drive a man mad.

Ron lost it when one of the waiting owls decided it had waited long enough and took off, flying over Ron and clipping his head hard with its wing.

"Ow!" Ron yelled, his hand coming to rest on the top of his throbbing head.

Bloody owls, he thought again as he glared at the small speck out the window that had been his attacker.

Ron turned his gaze to the other owls sitting and hooting on his desk. Some looked back tiredly like they couldn't care less whether they stayed there all day and others seemed to glare at him, their small beady eyes narrowed.

He shook his head. He was done with owls. Scribbling a reply to one letter he couldn't ignore, Ron tied it around the leg of a barn owl nearby and it flew off out the window. Looking around at the rest of them Ron snorted. So many owls.

"I'm done for today. You're not getting any more letters out of me so off you go. Go on, your owners can live without a ruddy reply for one more day."

They all just sat there, blinking their large eyes slowly, some even went as far as to hoot questionably. Ron threw up his hands when none of them left. He couldn't handle a dozen questioning owls right now.

Grumbling, Ron stood and grabbed his wand, picking up a small stack of papers from his desk as he went.

"The window's open," Ron called over his shoulder as he opened his office door and left, "I want you all gone by the time I get back."

Forlorn hoots were his only reply.

Shaking his head, Ron made his way down the hall. It was loud and crowded, people coming and going, shouting over the heads of others, bumping and jostling. People bustled past him as he walked and Ron glanced over his shoulder as a particularly haggard looking messenger boy ran past, carrying a large stack of paper and scrolls and looking very out of breath.

Ron continued down the hall, stopping at the first door he came to. Knocking twice sharply, Ron didn't bother waiting for an invitation before striding into the office.

Harry didn't look up from the scroll he was scribbling on, knowing that Ron was the only one who would just barge into his office. "Hey mate, just give me a minute to finish this."

"No problem," Ron walked over and placed the papers neatly on the edge of the deck before turning and walking around the office.

It was a large square room, with windows and a bookshelf, a fireplace and a large oak desk. Pictures lined the wall opposite the door. They were mostly of Harry's family and Weasleys but there were a few speckled in there of the Aurors Harry and Ron had trained over the years.

Ron felt his heart clench painfully as his eyes landed on last years group photo. They all stood, arms thrown around shoulders, people shoving and laughing. Grey stood next to him, his smile wide and infectious. Grey then laughed and shoved Frank who also stood next to him, both laughing harder as he made a comment, his own smile wide. Ron watched the people in the moving photo talk and smile, all of them too happy and some too drunk to stand still long enough for a proper photo. But that had been how Ron liked it best when they were all messing around too much to be professional or cold. When they were all just having a good time. Those had been some of the best times.

Tearing his eyes away from the photo Ron found himself gazing at a different memory altogether. His family. They stood in front of a large white house, the big front porch just behind them and the red front door standing out against everything else. It was autumn, the leaves of the big oaks and maples around them floating down and creating patches on orange and brown on the dirt. They were all bundled up, scarves and hats and fluffy socks. Rose was about four in the photo, her smile big and toothy, her curls tucked messily under her pink hat. Hugo stood in front of her, just under two here, looking like a marshmallow in his many layers and smiling just as wide as his sister while she hugged him from behind.

And then there was he and Hermione. They stood just behind the kids, arms around each other, smiling and laughing. Ron watched photo him bend down to pick Rose up from the ground and hold her on his hip while Hermione lifted up Hugo. They then all smiled and posed for the last little bit of the photo, laughing just before it came to an end.

Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath Ron turned away the memories and focused back on Harry, who was just finishing up his paragraph. Ron didn't need to be thinking of those they had lost. Not now, not when it was still so painful.

The file closed with a soft smack. Harry sighed and leaned back in his chair. "What can I do for you?" He rolled his shoulders before stretching his arms above his head.

Ron flopped down in the chair in front of Harry's desk, running his hand through his greying red hair. "I have a few things I need you to look over before I send them off." Ron gestured to the files he had brought.

Harry grinned and shook his head. "Mate what have I said about adding to my workload?" Ron snorted and Harry rolled his eyes, "Fine I'll look them over and have them sent off when I'm done."

Ron nodded, though his gaze was still troubled, "Thanks, mate."

"What is it?"

"What?" Ron looked up as Harry grabbed the files, shooting the red-head a pointed look. "It's nothing."

"Ron."

"I was just wondering if you wanted to go get a drink after work." Ron looked up to see Harry peering over his glasses in a piercing look he could only have learned from Dumbledore.

He closed the file he was reading, a frown pulling at his lips. "Ron it's Saturday. It's like the only day you and Hermoine both have off work early."

Ron ducked his gaze. He had known that asking Harry was a bad idea.

"Ron." Harry's voice was quiet but the firmness in it left no room for arguing. "Are you guys fighting again?"

He let out a groan sitting forward so that his arms rested on his knees, his gaze still fixed on the floor. "It's fine Harry. We're fine."

Harry sat back in his chair with a heavy sigh, taking his glasses off and rubbing at his eyes. "You guys need to figure this out, Ron."

"I know Harry. We will. Don't worry about it."

Harry just shook his head while reopening the file, "I'll always worry about you mate. If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine. And if you don't want to go home, we can go out for drinks. It's up to you."

Ron gazed at the smooth top of the oak desk for a while, not saying anything and just listening to the sound of Harry flipping through the files, occasionally writing something down.

He sighed. He couldn't avoid Hermione any longer. Though he had managed to do that all week, enough was enough.

He stood and Harry glanced up at him. "Going home?"

Ron nodded. "Yeah, I got some things I need to do."

Harry hummed, "If you change your mind on those drinks you know where to find me."

"You're a good friend Harry." Ron reached over and clapped him on the shoulder, smiling slightly at the dark-haired man.

Harry just shook his head and put his glasses back on, his eyes returning to his work. "And don't you forget it, Weasley."

~oOo~

The house was quiet when he opened the front door. All the lights were off, and at first there were no signs that anyone was home. But there by the door was a light brown coat and the black boots that belonged to his wife. She was home.

Sighing Ron shrugged off his own coat and hung it up beside the brown one, kicking off his shoes with practised ease.

As he moved past the front entrance and rounded the corner he found that there was, in fact, a light on in the house. The glass door leading to the kitchen allowed the soft yellow light to shine into the hall, alerting Ron that someone was or had been in the room.

He moved slowly down the hall, not in much of a hurry to be having a conversation with an angry Hermione.

He pushed open the door, the glass making no sound as it swung in. Ron paused as he saw her, his eyes taking in her posture, trying to gauge her mood.

She was sitting at the opposite side of the room, at the small dining nook. She was turned slightly, her eyes focused outside. Maybe she was watching the snow drifting down, sparkling in the light from the lamp on the table. Or maybe her mind was far elsewhere and her eyes had the glazed over look like she was daydreaming.

Ron couldn't see her face with the way she sat but he saw the cup of cocoa that sat on the table with her hand loosely holding it. He saw the rise and fall of her slim form, her tangle of curls tied loosely back. She wore a simple oversized sweater and Ron tilted his head slightly when he recognized it as one of his own. Her legs that were tucked under her were clad in a pair of sweatpants.

He stepped forward and let the door close slowly, his eyes trained on the unmoving figure in front of him.

"Are you just going to stand there staring all night or are you going to come to sit?"

"You're talking to me again." Ron pointed out, walking over to one of the cabinets and pulling it open, grabbing a bottle of fire whiskey and a small tumbler glass from the side.

"Yeah well, we both can't be acting like children."

Ron said nothing to that as he walked over to her, taking the seat opposite and pouring himself a glass of the whiskey. They were silent for a long time, Hermione still staring out the window at the snow and Ron just sitting there taking sips of his drink. He had decided to talk to her, to work this out, but now that he was sitting there Ron had no earthly idea of how to fix this particular fight. It was like every time he tried to come up with something to say his mind drew a blank. It made him want to slap the side of his head until something actually sensible came out of his mouth.

"Any new leads on the Albertson case?" Hermione broke the silence.

A safe topic.

Ron leaned back in his seat raising the glass to his lips. The whiskey burned harshly down his throat, but he relished the feel, enjoying the warmth it sent through his system.

"None," He looked down at his glass as he swirled the remaining contents around, staring at the amber liquid that sloshed about. "It's maddening. No one knows anything and any information was can get is of no use. Our next move is to get some people on the inside but that is going to take time. Time we don't have. Honestly, we're all sort of running around in circles trying to figure out how we proceed."

Hermione hummed and Ron watched as she lifted her drink to her lips, taking a small sip before setting it down again. For the first time that night her gaze met his, her warm honey coloured eyes dancing in the light of the lamp.

She's beautiful, Ron thought, looking at her soft features. Her curls were as unruly as the first day he had met her, her eyes just as enchanting, her lips soft and full, the softest sprinkling of freckles across her cheeks. She is so beautiful.

Hermione cocked a brow, her eyes questioning. "You're staring."

"You're beautiful."

Hermione sighed, "You can't fix this with flattery Ron."

Ron shrugged slightly, "I can try."

She shook her head, reaching a hand up to push some curls that had escaped from the bun, "It's going to take a hell of a lot more than trying."

Ron sat forward, his arms resting on the table top, a frown pulling at his lips, "And what is it going to take Hermione? I said I was sorry. I was there as soon as I heard. What else can you want from me? I came, maybe not as soon as you would have liked but I came."

She scoffed, a bitter smile forming. "But that's always the case isn't it? You didn't mean to, you're sorry, you'll do better." Her gaze was hard as she met his eyes, "Well sorry isn't good enough this time Ronald. You didn't mean to isn't going to cut it. Rose needed you! She was hurt and you didn't bother to show up for hours! Hours! I sat there with her, while she was in pain, while she was suffering, and where were you? Huh? Where were you?"

Ron felt his temper rising. That ugly beast inside of him that was always too close to the surface. "I have a job Hermione! I have responsibilities! It was chaos that day and I didn't get the Healer's message right away. But I came the minute I found out that Rose was in the Hospital. I didn't find out then choose to stay at work! I came! I showed up!"

"I have a job too!" Hermione was on her feet, her eyes angry. The room seemed to buzz with tension. All the pent-up emotions that had been stewing for a week were suddenly all coming out in one big explosion.

"I have responsibilities too Ronald! But I was there! I was there on time! I didn't stay at work, I didn't make excuses because that is all those are. Excuses. You choose to ignore your messages, even though you knew they were from Healer Lynde. You made that decision, not me! I could have very easily chosen to ignore them as well, but I didn't! I was there for Rose, and you just showed up last minute and then left again because of work! That's what you always do! You're never there on time, you're never there when your family needs you! It's always work, it's always something else, it's never us!"

"That isn't fair!" Ron didn't know when he had stood up all he knew was that he was yelling. Yelling just like Hermione was. He was angry. Angry that she was implying that he cared more for his work than his family. Acting as if she had never stayed at work longer then she was supposed to. Never showed up late. "I love the kids! They mean more to me than any job could. But I can't always just drop everything and come running! This case, this is big. If we don't figure this out a lot of people will get hurt. Families, children. I can't just walk away from that. I have a duty to see this through and if that means that sometimes I don't always show up on time then that is what I'll have to do because this matters. It matters!"

The sound of Hermione's hand as it slapped him was jarring. It was loud and unexpected and the sting that it left behind was too.

"We matter!" Hermione screamed, her fisted balled. There were tears in her eyes but they didn't fall. Ron stood there staring at the woman in front of him, too stunned to say anything. "Your family matters! And it's not sometimes it's every time! I have held my peace about this for years Ron! Years! I didn't say anything when you missed Rose's first play in primary school. I didn't say anything when you failed to show up for Hugo's baseball games. I kept quiet when you missed Christmas that year, or when you skipped out of Rose's birthday party. I stay silent. Because you were always there, telling me about the families you saved, the mothers and the children and the fathers and brothers. And for a long time I thought you were doing the right thing, helping all those people, but then I started to realize that while you were off saving all those other families you failed to be there for your own. Your children grew up with a father that always came home too tired to play with them. They always had a father that was to busy to read them a story. They grew up with a father that was too preoccupied with work to be an actual father." Her voice had lowered as she talked, and as she spoke those last words they were hissed more than anything else.

Her words hurt more than the stinging in his cheek. Her angry hurt more. This was his wife. The woman he loved and she was standing there telling him that he had been a bad father, a bad husband. He cherished his family, more than words could express. They were his everything, but his work was important too. He was helping people, every day.

When he had missed Rose's first play he had been called out for an emergency raid on a local drug cartel that was selling to underaged kids. The baseball games he had missed he had been helping get a family that had helped the Aurors to a safe house. Christmas, Rose's birthday, he had been helping people. He hadn't wanted to miss those moments, but his work had been life or death. His family hadn't been dying. Those people had been.

How was that wrong? How was saving a life instead of being at a play wrong? Rose may have been upset that he hadn't been there, but Ron had made up for it by taking her out for ice cream and taking her to the fair. Hugo had always been disappointed that Ron hadn't been there to see his home run, but when Ron got home he would play ball with him in the backyard. He hadn't always been there for them, but that didn't mean he didn't care.

Ron shook his head. "I'm sorry." He didn't know what else to say. He could make up an excuse and try and justify, but in her eyes all it meant was that he was there when he should have been with them.

He watched as she turned her back to him, running her hands down her face then up into her hair. She let out a hollow laugh, a dead sound that made Ron's heart clench. "You always are." Her words were a pained whisper, and by the slight strain to her voice, Ron could tell she was trying hard not to cry.

There was a long silence, the only sound was their breathing and the gentle wind outside. The kitchen was growing darker, the lamp dimming, soon they would be shrouded in darkness.

"I can't do this anymore Ron." Her voice cut through the still air like a knife. Not loud, not harsh but numb, emotionless. "We're always fighting, always yelling. I can't handle it anymore."

Ron didn't move, fearing that even the slightest thing might set her off. "W-what are you saying?"

She still had her back to him, her arms were wrapped around herself like she was giving herself a hug. Or like she was trying to hold herself together and if she let go for just a second she might fall apart. "I'm saying we haven't been alright for a long time Ron. We haven't come home and not yelled or argued for too long. I'm saying that this isn't working. We tried. We tried so hard, but I don't think this was ever going to work." There was a pause, and her breath came uneasily. "We don't work."

Ron's breath hitched, his heart clenched. There was a ringing him his ears. He could hear the blood rushing through his head. "We have kids Hermione." His voice was strangled, "We have a life together, family. We can't just throw that away. Things are hard now but they'll get better. We've been happy, we can be happy again. You can't jus-just give up. Not now."

But she was already shaking her head, her shoulders rising and falling faster than normal. "I'm done, Ron. I was done a long time ago."

"No," His voice was stronger then he thought was possible at that moment, "We can't fall apart now Hermione. Not with everything that's happened with Rose. She needs parents right now. She needs a united front. She needs to see that we are there for her, both of us, especially if we ever want her to open up about all this. Now is not the time. We can't do this."

Ron stared at the back of her head, at the caramel curls tied back, at the elegant curve of her neck, at the small silver clasp from the necklace she always wore, the one she had gotten from her parents so many years ago. He didn't want to lose her, but a part of him was done too. This constant fighting and bickering was just so trying. A part of him didn't want to do it anymore either.

But then he thought about her not being there anymore, about coming back to an empty house, eating alone in the kitchen, walking upstairs and sleeping alone in that big bed. He had had her for almost his entire life. After the war, they had dated for a few months then they had moved in together and by that same time next year they were married.

And it had been good. I had been so good. They had been in love and they had been so happy because they had lived through hell together. Everything had seemed possible after that. But somewhere after Rose had been born the fighting started. It slowly started to fall apart. They started bickering over small stupid things. Then they started yelling and the fighting only got worse. When Hermione had gotten her job at the Ministry it had only strained things more. Over time the laughter had become less and less and the yelling more and more. They had tried to not fight in front of the kids but Ron knew they had done a poor job.

Things had fallen apart. Slowly but surely. And now there they stood. In that dimly lit kitchen, both reeling in that fact that this was what they had turned out to be. Their love had slowly turned to resentment and anger. Everything they once cherished had turned dark and ugly. They weren't beautiful anymore. They were broken.

Hermione's shoulders sagged like a heavy weight had been placed there. "I'm going to spend the night at Harry and Ginny's." She made to move, her bare feet stepping across the floor.

"Wait!" His hand shot out and grasped her arm, stopping her retreat. "That's it? You tell me you're done? That you don't want to do this anymore and then you just leave me?"

Her eyes stayed on the ground but she shook her head, "I'm not leaving you, Ron. You're right, the kids need us. We can't do this, not now. So no, I'm not leaving you, but I can't handle being in this house tonight so I'm going to go to Harry and Ginny's for the night."

"Hermione we need to talk about this."

She finally looked up then and Ron saw red-rimmed eyes and the tears swimming in them. She looked so tired, so defeated. "I can't tonight Ron. We'll just yell and I don't want to say something else that I might regret. So no, we're not talking about this now. We will, but not now."

He let go of her arm and watched as she turned and walked out of the kitchen. He stayed there, not moving, listening to her moving upstairs as she packed an overnight bag. Then he heard her walk down the stairs and some scuffling in the entryway. There was the sound of the front door opening and the sharp crack of apparition.

She was gone.

The lamp that had been slowly dimming since he had arrived finally went out, leaving the kitchen shrouded in shadows. The snow outside no longer looked sparkly and white, but dark and swirling, ominous.

Ron moved over to the lamp, placing his wand near the wick to relight it but the flame flicked dimly, feeling cold and lifeless. No matter how many times he tried to relight the wick the flame just spluttered out. The candle had reached the end of its wax and wick. It was done.

Ron grabbed the bottle of fire whiskey from off the table and lifted the still full bottle to his lips. He knew he couldn't drink his problems away, but for tonight he would try like hell too. The liquid burned as it coursed down his throat but Ron didn't care. He was too numb to care.