a/n:I really can't thank you all enough for giving this story so much love despite all the angst.

This chapter is dedicated to Rockybalboa123 and all my other readers who are a part of the medical/research community or is an essential service worker. Consider all my updates in these times, my way of saying thanks. I send your way all the posivibes and love, and hope my stories give you some relief in these hard times.

Beta credits to the incredibly amazing Callieskye and a special shoutout to Jenn852 for helping me fight my anxieties when I begin to doubt my decision to rewrite this.


Chapter 19: A Friend Indeed

The week had passed in a haze thought Hermione as she stared bleakly at her lunch of instant noodles. It felt surreal that just seven days ago, she was at the Burrow, enjoying the wedding.

She eyed the morning paper lying on the table, and could just make out the words 'Malfoy' and 'werewolf'. She had barely skimmed over the news that morning while she had grabbed a cup of tea before rushing out to meet her parents at the hospital.

Hermione pulled the paper towards her lazily as she played with the steaming noodles on her fork, reading slowly. It was a historic win, it said, how Draco had managed to drive the case in the favour of the accused. A vast portion of the article was nothing but a detailed and horrific description of how a young Thomas Burke had been transformed by Greyback for defying Voldemort and how, for the past several years, he had taken all necessary precautions to keep himself locked away during his transformations. Hermione's eyes flicked to a small picture at the side of the article. Winston Burke, Thomas' first cousin, had found out about the infliction recently and had devised the cunning and dangerous plan to let Thomas' werewolf form loose. Winston had hoped to inherit the Burke estate after Thomas' secret came out. The murder of the muggle girl had been the icing on the cake, he had admitted under the effect of Veritserum.

Draco had really pulled out all the stops, she mused quietly as she continued to play with her food, not very hungry despite having had a very early breakfast. The ring on her finger felt heavy and alien and after a moment's hesitation, she picked up her wand and recast the Disillusionment charm on it. She couldn't see it anymore, but it felt heavy- both on her finger and her heart.

She flipped the newspaper over, absentmindedly scanning the articles. Ron had become a permanent topic in the papers. This week alone, he had ruled the headlines four times- once for the news about his rejoining services and thrice for the captures he had made. He was being hailed as one of the fiercest Aurors Britain had ever seen. Skeeter's shrewd quill wasn't behind, however, Hermione mused to herself. Her articles weren't kind- and she had begun to address Ron as the 'Masked Terror' ever since the Parker's case. As Hermione searched for a mention of the familiar name, her thoughts drifted off to the happenings of that morning.

It had been five days since she had seen Ron last, she had hoped that the distance and her decision about her future would have made her will-power stronger. However, bumping into him suddenly just outside her mother's hospital room had proved her wrong- once again. Hermione realised that neither the pain nor the longing had dulled in the least. The few seconds when their eyes met before she looked away guiltily, she had seen enough of that face to notice how his features had turned harder and more rugged than even a week before. He hadn't paused to wish her good morning or even acknowledge her presence- simply walking away. Hermione tried her best to tell herself that his behaviour did not hurt.

No, she was not expecting him to come back and plead forgiveness, not expecting him to pursue her to clear whatever happened in the past. And she certainly wasn't yearning to run into his arms, place her head on his chest and just stay there...

She had moved past the stage where she could go back, she reminded herself sternly. Drawing in a deep breath she looked at the spot where the invisible ring sat on her finger. Soon now, she'd have to find the courage to tell the family about her engagement. Soon, she told herself, ignoring the palpitation that reared its ugly head imagining their reactions. She'd have to figure out a way to break the news as gently as possible, but she had no clue how to go about it. She knew one thing, however, until she did, both Draco and his ring would have to stay invisible.

….

The kettle whistled aloud, and Ron dropped the washcloth he was using to soak up the blood from his still bleeding forearm arm to walk up and take the kettle off the stove. He poured himself a cup and returned to the dining table to resume cleaning and rebandaging his wound before pulling his sleeve over it. He needed to procure another bottle of Dittany, he thought to himself as he grabbed his mug and took a sip, pulling the morning's newspaper towards himself.

The morning edition had Malfoy and his client's face plastered all over the front page, and Ron slowly read the description of the case. The ferret seemed to have taken a turn for the better, he mused to himself and flipped over the page. There was no mention of the previous day's incident, he noticed. He hadn't expected there to be one.

He wasn't due for his shift until later that night and was only wondering whether to make a Floo call to Harry when the large ministry owl swooped in through the kitchen window and landed smartly in front of him. Curious, he pried the letter off the bird who turned around and flew away.

He took in the insignia of the Auror Department, his confusion rising as he tore open the envelope to pull out its content. The paper was exceptionally familiar.

"Fucking bastard!" he laughed as he finished reading and threw the letter on the table to recline on the chair. "Looks like I'm not going anywhere tonight," he stated aloud to the silent room.

…..

Harry ignored the stunned silence around him as he concentrated on his plate, fuming internally at Ron and cursing himself for keeping the promise he had made his best mate.

He and Ginny had returned the previous night. The part of him which was certainly lulled by the glorious seven days of their honeymoon had hoped that his best friends would have come closer after the intense moments they shared during the wedding. He had not expected things to have gone downhill so fast. It seemed as if Ron had personally taken the onus to make his life more miserable than it already was.

"I can't believe it," George stated finally, breaking the silence, and Harry looked up from his plate to notice Molly wiping a tear on her apron while Arthur sat at the head of the table, his features grim and hurt.

"I'm going to hex him into the next century, I swear," snapped Ginny suddenly, her voice dangerously low.

"But, I don't understand?" asked Fleur as she tucked Torrie into her highchair neatly, and eyed her husband. "Ron was always so fond of her! Remember how he was during the war, Bill?" she asked her husband, who for some reason was watching Harry. "He didn't leave her side for a moment," she continued, her brows furrowed, "I can't-"

"Where will I find him?" Ginny snapped, interrupting Fleur and turning back to him, and Harry placed a placating hand on hers. "Relax, Gin," he managed, pushing his plate away a little, no longer hungry.

"Relax?" she spat, "Have you lost it?! Hermione is your friend too, Harry! Can you believe what Ron did?!"

"I know what he did, Gin!" he retorted, gritting his teeth, unable to hold himself back.

"Have you forgotten how miserable she was?!"

His eyes bore into Ginny's, he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so mad at Ron- and Ginny and everyone else for that matter. "I haven't forgotten anything, alright?" he bellowed, looking around the room. "He was on a fu- ", he inhaled deeply a few times, shaking with fury. "Ron was on a goddamn mission!" he said more slowly, "Have you all forgotten that?" he asked the room at large. Pushing away his chair, he walked off to stand near the window, breathing erratically. "Trust me, Gin, the mission was messed up as hell," he replied as he turned around on his wife before looking at the other faces that were watching him curiously. "Don't you dare think I'll let you gang upon Ron now!" he warned her. "Not even you guys, not even you, Gin."

"Really?" she retorted angrily as she stood too, ignoring and pulling her hand away from Angie's grasp. "And Hermione? What about her?" she asked, "Just leave and walk off, right, Harry?" she threw her hands up in frustration, face almost the same shade as her hair, and Harry suddenly understood why it was affecting her so much. "Why care while you are off doing whatever you are doing, isn't it?" she spat bitterly, not taking her eyes off him.

"Ginny."

Bill's voice stopped the sentence on his lips. The eldest Weasley sibling, Harry noticed, was looking intently at him while he spoke to his sister. "What's the truth, Harry?" Bill asked simply and Harry looked away.

"You guys should trust him more. Especially you, Molly and Arthur. Trust your upbringing a bit more, yeah?" he responded bitterly.

"You know something we don't," Bill stated and Harry ignored the soft murmur that broke out at the Weasley table.

"I-"

The fire in the grate sprung up all of a sudden and Matt's head popped up in the flames, "Thank Merlin, you are here!" stuttered the Auror as Harry dashed to the grate. "You've got to come fast, Harry! We've got orders to arrest Ron!"

"WHAT?!"

Harry collapsed in front of the fire, barely listening to the rising voices and footsteps behind him.

"Attempt to murder charges," provided Matt uncomfortably. Harry turned around, Accioed his robes in a snap, threw a fistful of Floo powder into the grate and disappeared into the green flames.

….