As the night wore on, the pub began to crowd with more and more laughing, friendly faces; everyone seemed to be enjoying their evening. Even the people who hadn't been invited as guests were joining in on the festivities as everyone talked, danced, sang, and drank the night away. As Hermione glanced around the pub, she couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment for having helped plan such a successful party. It was all she could have hoped for as she watched Harry and Ginny smiling with friends. As long as they were happy, she'd done her job properly.

"I can't believe you'll be teaching Herbology," she said as she found herself casually chatting with Neville, who was standing at the bar keeping Hannah company. "I'm really excited for you Neville."

"It'll be a challenge," he said as Hannah placed two drinks in front of Hermione, "but I'm up for it."

"Thanks, Hannah," Hermione said as she laid some money down on the counter.

"Are those both for you?" asked Ron, who had just approached the bar from behind her.

"Not quite," she said with an amused grin before she picked up both glasses and turned to leave.

"Hey, come and play darts with us," Ron suggested. "You can bring Martin if you want. You can play the winner of that game over there."

Hermione cast a look over towards the dartboard where George and Charlie were currently playing a team game against Lee and Harry. Lydia was sitting idly by watching and chatting with another girl.

"Martin doesn't play darts," she said.

"Who doesn't play darts?" Ron asked as he made a doubtful face. "Well, fine, just you, then."

"Maybe later," she said as she stepped around him and carried both glasses over to where Martin and a man from their office named Henry were sitting.

"Thanks," Martin said with a sloppy smile as Hermione sat down and handed him one of the drinks. He'd definitely had his fair share of alcohol thus far that evening, and that was starting to become evident. The fact that he wasn't much of a drinker as it was definitely sped up the process of him becoming intoxicated.

"I'm not sure I want to get married," Henry said as he slicked back his already greasy hair with the palm of his hand.

"You'd have to find a girl who'd have you first," Martin said. Hermione tried to hide her grin.

"True," he said as he drained what Hermione had counted to be his sixth beer. "But I don't know. I just don't see myself as the marrying kind. I'd want my wife to be a very certain way, you know? I just don't think they make them that way anymore."

Hermione raised her eyebrow, but said nothing. Arguing with Henry was the biggest waste of time there was. She'd learned that time and time again.

"How do you mean?" Martin asked.

"I mean, I want her to cook and be a mum and a wife only," he continued. "You know, I don't want her to be a career woman who's all independent. No offense, Hermione."

"None taken," she said quickly. The fact that she was the furthest thing from what Henry considered to be his kind of woman was a good thing as far as she was concerned.

"I can sort of see what you mean," Martin mumbled.

"You can?" Hermione asked as she gawked at him. "I thought we had talked about this?"

"I know," he said. "It's just, I can see where he's coming from wanting a mum to be home with the kids. You know that's what I want."

"You still want that?" she asked, sitting up straight. "But you had said the other day that you realized how stupid it sounds and how that sort of thing isn't for everyone."

"And I meant that," he said. "I was just saying I could see where he was coming from."

Hermione shook her head. "One second you're saying that's what you want, and the next, you're saying you realized it's a stupid idea. Which is it?"

"Let's not talk about this now," he said slowly. "I've had a lot to drink and I'm saying things I don't mean because I can't think straight."

"Fine," she said as she picked up her drink and stood. She had absolutely no desire to sit there and listen to this.

"You just sat down. Where are you going?"

"To play darts," she said as she thought of the first thing that popped into her head. She forcibly pushed her chair back into the table and made her way over to where George and Charlie were now jumping up and down celebrating.

"I think they're trick darts," she heard Ron say to Lydia as she approached the group.

"I'd like to play next," she said as she placed her drink down.

"Hermione!" George said drunkenly before he came and put his arm around her. "How are you?"

"Not as smashed as you are, apparently."

"You're just not trying hard enough," he said.

Charlie held up the darts in his hands. "Ok, so George and I versus," he looked at Hermione, "Hermione and who? Fancy another go, Harry?"

"I just lost twice in a row," Harry said as he made his way over to the closest table to sit. "I think I'll sit this one out. Save what little dignity I have left."

"I'll play," Ron said as he glanced at Hermione. "Remind me, are you good at darts or not?"

"I think I was better than you were."

"Well," said Charlie, "given Ron's performance tonight, that's not hard."

"Hey!" George suggested, his face lighting up. "Harry needs a shot of firewhiskey! How about it?"

Harry looked exhausted. "I've already had two."

"Time for three, then," George said. "Let's all do one! On me!"

"Oh, not for me," Hermione said, looking around as everyone else agreed.

"Hermione," George said with a slight wobble in his step. "You must! You need to show us how it's done!"

"I don't even know what that means," she said as she glanced at a grinning Harry.

"So that's," George began counting heads, "eight shots, then?"

"Really, George," Hermione said. "Thanks, but—"

"Eight it is!" he said, ignoring her as he walked off towards the bar with both Charlie and Lee in tow. Hermione sighed.

"You still hate that stuff then?" asked Ron.

"I didn't used to it. It just hasn't had much of a desire to have any since that night where I got really sick off of it."

"Oh, I remember that," he said slowly. "That was pretty bad."

"I was so miserable," she said as if she was remembering something specific. "It's horrible to even think about."

"I still think someone put something in that bottle, though," he said as Lydia called out his name from nearby, though, he didn't seem to hear her. "I know you don't think so, but it really seemed like almost a mild poisoning."

"Who would have done something like that?" she asked as Lydia called Ron's name once again, this time a little louder and definitely clearer than before. Still, he still didn't seem to hear her.

"Maybe it was Draco Malfoy all over again," he joked.

"That's not even funny," she said with a serious face as Harry suddenly called Ron's name. Ron turned around; Harry immediately signaled towards Lydia.

"I was actually trying to get you to get Hermione," Lydia said with a friendly smile towards her. "I just wanted to say that I really like your jumper. It's a really lovely color on you."

"Oh," Hermione said as she looked down at what she was wearing. "Thank you."

"This is my friend Ezzie," Lydia said politely as she gestured to the girl sitting next to her who looked to be the same age as her. "She remembers you from Hogwarts, too."

Ezzie nodded. "You actually told me and my friend off during our second year. Ironically enough, it was because we were testing products for George and Fred Weasley."

"I actually do remember them doing that," Hermione said with a small smile as she remembered telling off Fred and George in the Gryffindor common room for using younger students to test their products. "So, you were in Gryffindor?"

Ezzie nodded again. "I was just telling Ron how I have a distinct memory of him snogging some girl all around the common room one year."

"Oh, Lavender," Hermione said, smiling at Ron.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Don't even start." He turned to Harry. "You either."

"I wasn't going to say anything," Harry said as he and Hermione exchanged amused expressions.

"Neither was I," Hermione said. "Won-Won."

"I knew you would..." Ron began as he turned a little pink and gave both Hermione and Harry a look that only they seemed to find absolutely hilarious. He was luckily saved from further embarrassment by the return of George and the others, who began handing out the drinks they had promised one by one.

"Where's Ginny?" George asked Harry. "I got one for her, too."

"Somewhere over there talking with some of her teammates," Harry said. "After this, I'm going to go see what she's up to."

"Good. You can take this to her and tell her that her older brothers demand she drinks it out of love."

"Not before we toast you though, Harry," Charlie said, holding up his shot glass. "To Harry. Welcome to the family."

"Cheers!" George and Ron said as everyone else tossed their shots back immediately. Hermione watched and waited for Ron to finish his.

"Do you want mine?" she asked in an attempt not to drink it.

"After that Won-Won crack?" He smirked. "You're on your own."

"I think Ron should have to take it just for making us put up with Won-Won in the first place," Harry joked as he stood from the table and put his hands on Hermione's shoulders to steady himself as he maneuvered his way around the group.

"Harry?" Hermione asked as she held the glass up and gestured to it, as if to ask him if he wanted it.

"I think I'm done," he said before he began making his way across the room. "Can't be too hungover tomorrow, seeing as I have a thing or two I need to do."

"Why haven't you taken that yet?" George asked her as he came over to hand Ron the darts for his turn.

"Because I'm not interested," she said.

"You know, it's bad luck to not drink when someone makes a toast," he said. "It's as if you're cursing Ginny and Harry."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "It most certainly is not."

"We'll see," he said as he held up his fingers and wiggled them in a foreboding manner.

"Oh, please…"

"We're going to go for a bit of air," Lydia said to Ron as she and her friend stood up. "We'll be back in a little bit."

"Okay," he said with a careless shrug and he stepped towards Hermione and George. "Have fun. We'll be here."

"Wait," George said suddenly, thrusting the darts he was holding at Ron. "I'll come!"

"George, we're playing a game," Ron said.

"We would have won anyway," he said as he patted Ron on the shoulder and followed the girls outside. Ron glanced at Charlie, who shrugged.

"He's got his eye on your girl's friend," said Charlie. "He's a man on a mission, so there's no stopping him." He checked his watch. "I probably should be getting back, too. I said I wouldn't stay out too late."

"What the hell?" Ron said as Charlie finished the rest of his beer and headed towards the door.

"See you tomorrow." He waved behind him.

"Were we not playing a game?" Ron asked Hermione.

"You technically won on the grounds of forfeit," she said, taking the darts from Ron's hand. "Here, if you want to play so badly, I'll have a go."

"I never took you as a big darts player," he said as he watched her take her turn. She threw three darts, which went sailing towards the dartboard.

"I'm not. I'm just annoyed and I felt like doing something constructive."

"Uh-oh," he said with a funny smile as she handed the darts off to him. "Who did it this time? Wait, it wasn't me was it?"

"Not this time, no," she said as he took his turn and threw his darts. He hit two of the targets he needed.

"I'm winning," he said smugly as Hermione shook her head. "So, did someone do something or are you just annoyed at something in general?"

"It's nothing," she said as she stood in front of the dartboard and aimed. "It's just something stupid."

"If you know it's stupid, then why do you care?"

She gave him a pointed look, but said nothing. She threw her darts and landed three of her targets. She smiled. "Looks like I'm winning."

"Yeah, I see that," he said as he stared at the dartboard. He seemed to be attempting to plan out his next move very carefully.

"Don't hurt yourself overthinking things," she teased.

"Oh, don't you worry—" he said with a laugh before he stopped abruptly. Martin had just approached the pair of them.

"Hermione, can we talk?" he asked.

"Martin," she said hastily, as she avoided his eyes and continued to watch Ron take his turn. "You said it yourself, you've had too much to drink tonight. We'll talk about it later."

"I just think you're overreacting."

"I'm in the middle of a game," she said as she made a point of walking to the dartboard to retrieve the darts herself. "We'll talk later."

Martin sighed and mumbled something about, "I don't see why you always have to be like this," before walking off.

"He doesn't see…" she said out loud to herself in a biting manner as she hammered off the darts into the dartboard. Only one actually hit. The other two went sailing into the wall nearby. Hermione marched over towards the wall and pulled the darts out before rounding on Ron to hand them off. "I cannot believe…" she stammered in a huff before she suddenly grabbed her abandoned shot and took it swiftly. She screwed up her face as the liquid burned her throat, but quickly recovered and stared hard at the dartboard. Ron gaped at her, but said nothing.

They played in silence for several minutes. Hermione was far too wrapped up in her own thoughts to do much talking. She had been in such a good mood before all of this. Why did Martin have to do this tonight of all nights? She had walked away from him on purpose because she hadn't wanted to deal with this tonight. She had wanted to enjoy her friends' party and enjoy the eve of their wedding. Not argue with him about the same topic they had been arguing over the last two weeks.

She glanced at Ron. He hadn't said a word since Martin had arrived and she was curious about what he was thinking right now. She felt a little embarrassed. Actually, she was quite embarrassed to have had an argument with her boyfriend in front of him. She knew he wasn't asking about things so as to not upset her further, but a part of her almost wished he would. Just so she could talk.

"Your turn," he said, gesturing towards the dartboard and jolting her out of her daze. She hadn't realized how long she must have been staring into space until she took the darts he offered her. She absently took her turn, unsure of the score or why she was still even playing. As she walked forward to retrieve the darts though, a sudden curious urge came over her as she pulled each one out of the board.

"Ron, can I ask you an honest question?"

"Maybe," he said, not looking at her and focusing on the dartboard.

She strained her face. "Oh, never mind…"

He glanced at her. "What is it?"

She sighed. "If you and I were still together, and let's say we got married and decided to start having kids…" She hesitated. "Would you have ever expected me to just quit my job to be a stay-at-home-mum?"

Ron had his hand in the air; he was ready to throw the dart when he suddenly let it drop back down to his side. He turned to look at her. "Do I have a death wish?"

She grinned slightly and shook her head.

"I think that answers your question," he said as he turned back towards the dartboard and took his turn. "But honestly, I don't see you marrying anyone who'd expect that from you anyway. And if you did, I'd admit you to St. Mungo's straight away."

She smiled.

"I'm not kidding, either," he added with a supportive smile. "I take it, that's what that was all about?"

"Something like that," she said, suddenly feeling her head get a little fuzzy from the firewhiskey.

"I know this is probably biased as all hell," he said as he watched her take her turn, "but I don't like the guy."

"You don't even know him."

"And I don't care to. Not if he's got ideas like that floating around in his head."

"He hasn't always been like this. This is all new."

"Oh, well, in that case…" he said sarcastically.

"I didn't say it was an excuse," she said, facing him. "I'm just still working things out. It's complicated."

"Is it?" he asked as he flung his darts at the board aggressively.

"Of course it is," she said in an annoyed and conversation ending tone. She really didn't feel like getting lectured by Ron of all people.

"Look, I'm sorry. It really isn't any of my business."

"You're right, it's not," she countered hastily. She hadn't meant to sound so rude, but it had come out that way. Ron seemed disconcerted, but said nothing more before turning away. She sighed as her conscience got the better of her. "Sorry, I know you just want to help, but you just have to understand that things haven't always been like this. This is all new and strange behavior on his part and," she paused and sighed again in a defeated way, "I just don't know."

He watched her, but didn't say anything. She felt as though her thoughts were swimming laps around in her head and it was getting hard to sort them out. She hated this feeling, but there was no avoiding it at the moment given everything that was going on.

"Can I ask you a question now?" he asked seriously.

"Maybe," she said tentatively.

"You don't have to answer it," he said as he stood up straight so that he was looking her directly in the eyes. "Are you happy?"

"Mostly," she said automatically. It was the first word that had popped into her head.

"Mostly…" he repeated thoughtfully.

"It's compli—"

"-cated." He finished for her. "Right. Is there anything about your relationship that isn't complicated?"

Hermione frowned and turned away. She should have never brought this up with him. "You know, we went through our fair share of complications, too."

"And we split up last time I checked."

She glared at him, her emotions quickly surfacing. "Well, I'm sorry we can't all just cut and run when things get rough, Ron. Some of us like to at least make an attempt at working things out before we decide to call it quits."

It was a cheap shot and she knew it, but she couldn't help feeling as if he deserved it. He stood there staring at her before taking a deep breath. "I deserved that," he said slowly, "but I can't change the past no matter how much I wish I could—"

"Why do you do this?" she interrupted. She felt a burning sensation in her throat.

"Do what?" he asked as his voice grew hard. "Care about you? Sorry, force of habit. It's sort of hard to kick after almost fifteen years—"

"This is caring?" she asked.

"Wanting you to be happy?" he asked in a tone of annoyed disbelief.

"I am happy!" she snapped as she felt her face getting hot.

"Well, mostly," he said in a terribly patronizing tone before he took a few steps back. "And I'm not going to apologize for wishing more for you than just that. You know, I may have screwed things up along the way, I admit that. I realize that. It doesn't mean I want to sit here and see you put through the same thing over again with some other guy."

Hermione glared at him again before turning away. She wanted to yell and scream at him to mind his own business, but she didn't. She didn't because a part of her realized he was right. Why was she settling for mostly? Why was she trying to work out a relationship with someone who barely had time to make for it, and when he did, he was telling her how he wanted her to change.

"Look," Ron said quickly. "I'm going to go—"

"I hate this," she said finally as the sudden urge to release everything she was thinking overcame her.

"Sorry?"

"I hate how things are now," she said quietly, her heart beating fast. "Sometimes I really do wish things could go back to how they were a few years ago."

"You do?"

She nodded but didn't look at him. Her thoughts suddenly seemed to focus so clearly in her head. "Things were so much more worthwhile a few years ago. I was really making a difference at work, instead of hitting so many roadblocks. I was feeling like I could do anything. I had such a supportive group of people around me who encouraged me and told me I could do anything." She paused. "Like you…"

She could feel his eyes fixed on her, even though she was doing everything in her power not to look at him.

"I mean, back when things were good with us, Ron," she continued, "I was genuinely happy. That's how I can stand here and tell you that I know I'm not now, because I don't even feel a half of that now. There's been a few times where I've wondered why I…why we gave that up and—"

She stopped when Lydia suddenly reappeared behind Ron.

"Hey!" she said happily, swaying on the spot and grabbing Ron to steady herself. "I think I've had too much to drink."

"What?" he asked, sounding disoriented and as though someone had just woken him up.

"Do you think you want to stay much longer?" she asked. "I was thinking perhaps you'd want to come over for a bit." She hesitated and smiled. "Hang out and what not."

"Uh…" He looked flustered as he glanced from her to Hermione. "Lydia, do you think you can give me a second?"

"Yeah," she said with a shrug. "I'll be just over there." She turned towards Hermione. "I really do love that jumper."

Hermione smiled politely, but as she watched Lydia walk away, her smile suddenly grew sad. She turned to Ron with the same sad smile as a sudden strange mixture of melancholy and happiness overcame her. Here she was acting like an idiot and telling him about how she missed the past, when what good would it do? She wasn't even sure where it was coming from, yet here she was saying it. She had almost thought she believed until seeing Lydia just now made her realize that Ron was clearly moving on with his life. He didn't need to be bogged down by her problems, and he didn't need her standing here telling him how she missed things when he obviously didn't. It was probably the last thing he wanted to hear.

"What were you saying?" he asked as he now looked as if he was the one struggling to gather his thoughts.

"I don't even know," she said as she continued to look in the direction that Lydia had walked off in. "You know, she's a really nice girl."

"Who is?"

"Lydia," she said obviously. "The girl you're dating."

"We're not dating."

"Why?" she said with a small laugh. "Is it complicated?"

"No…" he said with an expression that seemed to wonder why they were even talking about this. "It's actually the furthest thing from being complicated."

"Well, I wish the both of you luck," she said with a sincere nod. "Here's hoping you can work things out better than I can."

"What?" he asked, sounding completely dumbfounded. "How are we even talking about this? I'm telling you, she and I are not dating."

"Then what do you call it?"

"I call it nothing. Since that's what it is."

She shrugged. "Maybe it is now, but if you give it time, Ron—"

"Hermione," he said. "There is no time to give it." He paused and suddenly looked anxious. "I'm moving to Paris."

She stared at him as the words he had just spoken slowly registered in her head. "You're what?"

"I'm moving to Paris."

"You're moving?" she asked. Everything suddenly began to feel as if it was moving in slow motion. "When?"

"I start work on the first of the month."

"But…" she stammered as she began to feel flustered, "for how long this time?"

"I..." he said quietly as he looked away from her. "I don't have any immediate plans to come back."

"You're actually moving there?" she said, her voice a little louder than before.

He nodded.

"Why didn't you say…?" she began. "But you just got back."

"I was waiting until after the wedding."

"Does Harry…?" she stammered again, but Ron nodded before she could finish.

"He found out today through work, after I put in the transfer."

"You just got back," she repeated.

"I know," he said as he stared at the floor.

"Why Paris?"

"There's just a lot of opportunity for me there," he said, "and there's nothing holding me back here."

Hermione's face suddenly grew cold. "Oh, right."

"It's just a Portkey away," he said with an optimistic smile.

She didn't return it. "That's really great," she said in a forced tone. "Really great, Ron."

"I was hoping you would think so."

She avoided his eyes as she found herself looking at Lydia across the room once more. "You know, you should probably take your date home."

He continued to stare at her, his face suddenly very earnest. "Did you mean what you said before?"

"What?" she asked. She was barely listening to him. Her mind was now racing.

"About wishing things were back like they used to be? Did you mean that?"

She didn't hear him. Her thoughts were far too chaotic at the moment for her to be able to focus on anything he was saying. She should have never taken that firewhiskey shot because it was only making her feel worse. She needed to lie down. "I've got to go."

"Wait—"

"I'm sure you've got a busy night ahead of you with Lydia," she stammered. "So, do yourself a favor and don't stay up too late.

With that, she turned and walked off to where Harry and Ginny were standing and talking with several of their friends. Her head was now killing her. Ron was moving to Paris. He was actually moving. Just like that, with no real warning. She felt herself getting angry and she wasn't entirely sure why. She should be thrilled for him, but a selfish part of her didn't want him to go. She had just gotten him back in her life and here he was picking up and leaving again.

She shook her head in frustration. Why did she even care? Five minutes ago she had felt like punching him and now she was mad at him for leaving? Why did he constantly have this effect on her? Why did she let him have this effect on her?