Hello all - apologise for the inordinate delay in uploading this chapter. In the last few days I've changed job, got a new house and said goodbye to three friends who are moving away. Hopefully the updates will become more frequent from now on; I have the next couple of chapters written ready.

Thanks for sticking with the story, and I promise there will be some more H/Dr action soon.

The next day, Hermione called Ginny to let her know she was okay. Ginny apologised for the actions of her brother and assured her nobody blamed her for leaving. Ron had apparently gone home chastised by all his friends and she promised he would be ringing Hermione later on to apologise.

The thought of Ron twisted Hermione's stomach a bit, but she chose to say nothing to Ginny. Not yet.

Draco had called the next morning, and Hermione had acted fine. She assured him she was not upset, and that they could forget all about it, and she was sorry for throwing herself at him. He had sounded relieved that she was okay with him, and a small bubble of happiness erupted in her chest at the thought of him caring that much about their relationship. She was still unsure how to deal with her feelings, as they had now so obviously manifested themselves, except to bide her time, figure out how she felt about Ron and remember NEVER to get drunk around Draco until she could work out what she wanted.

Of course, she reminded herself hastily, Draco probably did not want her. As nice as he had been the previous night, he had rejected her completely, and she was unsure of his motive. Was he trying to spare her feelings by saying what he had said, unwilling to confess that he didn't find her attractive and didn't want to pursue any sort of romance with her? She mulled it over as a possibility - after all, her hair was wild and bushy, she was shorter than average and she knew she could be bossy and arrogant without meaning to. There were plenty of reasons he might not want her.

By the end of the day, Ron still hadn't called. She wasn't concerned, really; after all, he had acted despicably and she still wasn't sure she was ready to talk to him. But in the back of her mind was the lingering thought that Draco had called straightaway this morning to make sure she was okay, and Ron remained silent, even though he was the one in the wrong.

After three days had passed without a word from Ron, Hermione began to worry. He had never sulked for this long before, and she was concerned that he had somehow found out about her moment of weakness with Draco. True, nothing had actually happened - not even a real kiss, thanks to him - but she still felt a little guilty about it, and resolved to visit the Burrow after work and reconcile with Ron. After all, now they had both done wrong.

That evening, she Apparated to the Burrow. All seemed fine when she entered; Molly was her usual kindly, overbearing self and Ginny greeted her normally. When she asked where Ron was, though, both mother and daughter set their mouths in identical thin lines and told her they hadn't seen him since the night of the argument. According to Ginny, Harry was in touch with him and he had told him that he was feeling too ashamed to come home and wanted to have a few days away to think.

Hermione said what all three women were thinking. "Ron never needs time away to think."

"No," Molly said, a note of disapproval in her voice, "and I don't think for a second he's actually ashamed of himself. My son is many things, but accepting blame is not one of his strengths."

"So where is he?" Hermione pondered.

"Not a clue," Ginny responded, "but I wouldn't waste time worrying, Hermione. He hasn't called you since the incident and frankly, you deserve better."

Molly and Ginny continued to debate Ron's whereabouts and his abandonment of responsibility, but Hermione wasn't listening. She thought she knew where Ron might be. With a hurried apology, she excused herself from their company and Apparated away.

At the beginning of their relationship, after the war, Ron had shown Hermione a place he had bought in the city. It was a tiny studio flat, barely big enough for one person to live in, but he told her that he had needed to get away from the Burrow during the day; to get away from all the grief and anger that had filled the house after Fred's death. He had used it as a hiding place, a getaway, and made Hermione promise that she would never tell anyone about it. She stood outside it now, and saw a light shining in the tiny, cracked window.

She stepped up to the door and knocked, and heard a shuffling about inside. She smiled; she had found him. However, he didn't open the door, so she called his name, and heard the shuffling intensify. Wondering what could possibly be taking him so long to get to the door, she tried it and found it open.

"Ron? We're worried about you," she began as she entered the flat, but froze at the sight before her. Ron was almost passed out on the floor, empty bottles surrounding him. The furniture had been knocked over, probably in anger, and the smell was awful.

"Ron!" Hermione cried, and ran to her boyfriend, crouching over him."What happened?"

"'M sorry 'Mione," he groaned, half-conscious. "Shouldn'ta...shouldn't..."

"Don't," she said soothingly. "Don't worry now. Go to sleep, and we'll sort you out and get you home, okay?"

"'Kay," he mumbled, his eyes half-open and glazed over. She immediately sent a Patronus to get Harry, and sat beside him to wait for their friend's arrival.

It didn't take long for Harry to arrive, and when he did, he was shocked at the extent of Ron's binge. "I knew he was drinking - I could hear it in his voice - but I had no idea it was this bad. I swear, Hermione, if I'd known..."

"Don't worry," Hermione said, "it's not your fault. It's not like he would have listened to you anyway - you know how he gets."

"Yeah. Judging from the contents of these bottles, he's not critical - he won't need St. Mungo's - but we should take him home where Molly can look after him," Harry said. "He probably won't come round properly for a few days. This is strong stuff he's been drinking."

"No," Hermione said, "we can't take him to the Burrow. Molly would never let him leave the house again if she saw him like this. Bring him to my flat. He can take the bed, I'll kip on the couch until he's right again."

"Fair point," Harry conceded. "Let's each take an arm and Apparate on the count of three - it'll take both of us to pull him all the way to yours."

They got Ron inside the flat and settled him in Hermione's bed, where he rolled over, groaning, and properly dozed off. "Keep an eye on him, and if he shows any signs of seizures or prolonged unconsciousness, take him to St. Mungo's," Harry instructed, his First Aid unit from the Auror basic training proving very useful at this moment. Hermione nodded. "I'm going to go back to the Burrow, tell them Ron's fine and he's at yours."

"Thanks Harry," Hermione said. Her friend waved, then paused at the door. "Look," he said, turning back, "I'm not going to tell you how to live your life. But this -" he gestured at the prostrate Ron on the bed - "this isn't a happy relationship. Something needs to change with you two, Hermione, because neither of you are happy at the moment, and I hate to see what it's doing to you both."

"I know," Hermione replied quietly. "I've known that something has to change for a while. I think Ron and I need to sit down and just figure out what. Thanks for the advice Harry; you're a good friend."

"I'm always here if you need me," Harry said, and with an encouraging smile, left to tell Ginny and Molly the night's news.

Hermione ensured Ron was lying comfortably and able to breathe, then went into the living room to relax with a book. Harry was right, she knew, and if she and Ron were to continue being together, one or both of them were going to have to change. She thought of Draco again - as she did about fifty times a day - and wondered again what the hell she was going to do.

At that moment, there was a knock on the door, and she grimaced and went to answer it.

"Surprise!" Draco shouted, holding up two bags of Chinese food. "I didn't know what you wanted, so I got a bit of everything."

"How thoughtful of you," Hermione said, and stepped back to let him in. "And it's from a Muggle shop too! I'm impressed."

Draco grinned and got two plates out, beginning to set their meal up.

"Before you do that, I should probably warn you," Hermione said, "Ron's in the other room."

Immediately Draco froze, the smile vanishing from his face instantly as he hurriedly began gathering himself together. "Merlin, Hermione, I'm so sorry, I'll go."

"No, no, don't," Hermione said, and proceeded to explain the situation. Draco's face grew redder and redder as she described what had happened, and he let out a deep shuddering breath when she finished.

"That idiotic Weasel needs to get what's coming to him," he said. "Leaving his family and girlfriend to worry for days while he's off on a drinking spree? What are we, sixteen? He should know better than that by now. And to think, he's been badgering you to have children - he's not even grown up himself yet."

"He's wrong, I'll admit," Hermione wavered, "but I'm in the wrong too. You know why."

Drco gave her a sharp glance, and immediately grabbed her hands and pulled her closer to him. "That was not wrong. No, you listen to me. You are neglacted, and you are unhappy. He doesn't treat you right. You reached out to someone who you feel happy and comfortable with, because you no longer feel that way with him. Nobody - nobody - can blame you for that. I would have been at fault, if I had let you carry on, but I didn't. We didn't even kiss. You, Hermione, are NOT at fault here, okay?"

She could only look at him and nod. The intensity in his gaze, fixated upon her, was startling.

"Good," he said. "Now, back to not mentioning it. What do you want from these boxes?"

They sat and ate Chinese food, and laughed at a comedy show on the television. Hermione told Draco about the new book she was reading, and Draco told her that his new plans for a potion were about to come to fruition and she would be let in on the secret very soon, during the actual manufacturing process. Crookshanks, lured in by the scent of chicken, snuggled between them and occasionally stole a morsel from Hermione's plate, despite her batting him away. Everything was so easy, and natural, the way it should be, Hermione couldn't help thinking, and had to mentally keep resisting the urge to make an advance on him. It wasn't that she was actively trying to - only that it felt completely normal that she would lean over and kiss him. Of course, she didn't, but the feeling of safety, comfort and deep attraction that one experiences in relationships was there, between them that night.

Ron didn't stir all evening. Hermione went to check on him after a few hours, but he was in exactly the same position she had left him in, breathing comfortably and sleeping it off. She took some spare pillows and blankets out of her cupboard and left him to himself, shutting the door behind her.

"I still can't believe you're sleeping on the couch," Draco commented as he saw her bringing her bedding in. "You know we have about thirty spare bedrooms at Malfoy Manor, you could take your pick."

"That's really sweet of you," Hermione said, "but someone needs to be here to look after him. What if he has problems in the night?"

"Then it's his own fault and we should leave him to his fate," Draco scoffed, earning him a playful hit in the shoulder. "Fine. But I'm not letting you do it more than once. After tonight, if he still needs to be here, then you're sleeping at the Manor. It's wrong to let a lady sleep on anything but the bed."

"Gosh, where were those manners back at Hogwarts when you were doing impressions of me at the Slytherin table?" Hermione joked with a quirked eyebrow.

"Can you blame me? You looked like you had a rocket up your ass in Transfiguration every time McGonagall asked a question."

"Charming."

"I better leave you to it, I suppose," Draco said, eyeing her as she began to set up her pillows on the end of the couch.

"Stay if you like, by all means," Hermione said, "but I for one am going to sleep."

"D'you mind if I just watch the end of this?" Draco asked, gesturing towards the television, which was halfway through a rerun of Pirates of the Caribbean. "I'll go when it's over."

"No problem," Hermione said sleepily. Truth was, she really didn't mind Draco being there, and it was somewhat of a comfort to feel a warm body next to her when she slept - it had been a while since she and Ron had slept in the same bed, given the problems they had been having. Crookshanks, seeing there would be no more room for him, jumped haughtily off the sofa and curled into a ball by the fire.

She dozed off feeling Draco's warm legs next to her feet, and awoke the next morning feeling more refreshed than she had in a while, fully tucked in and with the plates washed up, the room tidied and the remainder of the Chinese waiting next to the microwave to be reheated for breakfast.

She was touched by Draco's thoughtfulness and resolved to call him and thank him later on. Remembering that Ron was in her bed, she wandered over to the bedroom door and knocked tentatively, letting herself in. "Are you feeling better?"

Ron was sleeping soundly, but cracked one eye open slightly at the sound of her voice. "Mmmm."

"Well, you're alive at least," Hermione commented. "I'll leave you to it. Sleep it off."

Ron made no response, but snuggled further into his pillows and shut his eye again. Hermione snorted and went to make breakfast.

The next few days passed uneventfully enough. Ron continued to rest, occasionally waking up to eat and drink, or use the toilet. Hermione did not take up Draco's request to stay at Malfoy Manor, more out of a vague sense of guilt concerning her increasing and disturbing feelings for Draco than actually not wanting to - sleeping on the couch really was beginning to cramp up her back. She knew that she and Ron needed to sit down and talk very soon about everything. She still wasn't sure exactly what she wanted, but what both Draco and Harry had reiterated to her rang true. She wasn't happy, and perhaps her feelings for Draco were just a manifestation of that unhappiness, attached to a person who made her feel wanted again. Before she made any rash decisions, she had to talk with Ron and see if they could give it a final chance - before she threw away a three-year-long relationship.

The chance to talk came on Friday night. She had just finished a mega-long day at work, coming home at 8pm after having to deliver a stack of completed paperwork to the Minister's office. She got in and threw her coat and bag on the sofa, ready for a nice evening in with takeaway food and a hot cup of tea. It was not to be, though, as for the first time in days, Ron cautiously poked his head out of the bedroom door. "'Mione? That you?"

"Ron! You're up!" Hermione said, excited to see him finally properly awake. "How are you feeling?"

Ron cleared his throat, his voice still very hoarse. "Better. Thanks."

There was a slightly awkward pause as neither of them really knew what to say. Ron shuffled over to her and gave her a hug, pulling her into him, but she didn't respond, unsure how she felt, or where to go from there, and still dying to put the kettle on and sit down.

"I'm sorry. About everything," he said, his eyes apologetic and his stance dejected. "I was an idiot to yell at you like that. I hate Malfoy, but he's not worth losing you over. I have no excuse other than that I don't find it easy to let things go. I just had to get away after that, and...well...you know the rest."

"Yes, well," Hermione said, busying herself about the kitchen, "we have a lot of things to talk about, Ron. Some things have happened between us that we need to discuss. But I have had a really, really long day, and right now I just want to sit down and relax for a bit. Why don't you go and take a shower, and we can talk about everything when you're done?"

Ron agreed, his dejected pose lasting all the way into the bathroom. Hermione sat on the sofa, nursing her cup, strangely nervous, her stomach tingling with butterflies as she mulled over the situation in her head and considered what she would say to Ron. It was clear that things needed to change between them, but she wasn't sure if she wanted to break it off with him, or try to make it work. She supposed it depended on what he said during their chat.

All too soon, Ron could be heard emerging from the shower, and Hermione drew a deep breath and readied herself. Her heart was fluttering and she felt slightly sick; it was the same feeling she tended to get before exams or big presentations. Her boyfriend appeared from the bedroom, hair tousled and wearing only his jeans.

"So - what did you want to talk about?" he asked, sitting beside her with an anxious look on his face.

"Well," Hermione began, "you and I...I think we both know it's not working like it used to, Ron. I'm constantly working which makes you unhappy, and that makes you angry so you shout, then you feel bad about it and go off and do - well, what you did last weekend. This vicious cycle has to stop, Ron."

"I know," he said in a low tone. "I feel so bad about what happened, 'Mione - all of it - I'm so sorry. I promise I can change and stop doing these stupid, immature things, if it's for the sake of us."

"We shouldn't have to change for each other," Hermione said. "Maybe this has just run its course, and we need to find other people who can love us for who we are, unmodified and uncompromised."

"No," Ron said vehemently. "I want to be with you. Look, I know you don't like this idea, but hear me out. What if we got married?"

Hermione opened her mouth to decline, but Ron held up a hand. "No - let me finish. The reason I'm unhappy, and why I go out and do these stupid things, is because I'm insecure. I feel like you're not fully committed to me, that you're keeping your options open by not marrying me. I know it might sound stupid, but that hurts me inside, that you don't feel like you want to commit to me properly. I feel like I'm not good enough."

"Ron...it's not you. I don't want to marry you because I don't want to have children and give up my life. And no matter what you say, I know that's what you want, but it's not what I want."

"Look," Ron said, "yes, at some point in the future, I want us to have kids. But I swear, if you agree to marry me, I won't ask. I'll let you decide when you're ready. I won't push you. This will just make me feel a whole lot more secure, knowing that you love me enough to want to spend your life with me."

Hermione frowned. She really didn't know what to say - she didn't feel the rush of happiness you're supposed to get when someone proposes. Instead she felt a growing pressure and a lingering sense of responsibility and guilt. But looking at Ron's pleading eyes, she couldn't bring herself to upset him, and before she knew it, her mouth formed the word, "okay."

"You'll do it? You'll marry me?" Ron asked, the look on his face brightening into pure joy.

"...Yes," Hermione said, feeling a slight sinking sensation in her stomach.

Ron kissed her and then threw his arms around her, and she responded, mentally kicking herself for not saying something else, anything else except a straightforward 'yes'. She supposed it wouldn't be too bad. She cared for Ron immensely, and maybe there wasn't that passion or devotion there any more, but there never was in married couples - they would fit right in with the crowd. She tried to comfort herself with these vague thoughts amid Ron's excited babbling.

"We could have a double wedding! Me, you, Harry and Gin!" he was saying. "Mum would love it, her two youngest getting married at the same time! We can start looking at places to live - this is so great, 'Mione, I'm so happy."

"Good - me too," she forced out. "Look, Ron, I really did have a long day, and I'm tired. Can we celebrate this tomorrow?"

"Sure, sure," he said, still with a goofy grin on his face. "I'll get us some food, why don't you go and have a relax in the bath?"

"That actually sounds lovely," Hermione replied, and went into the bathroom, leaving Ron to order a takeaway for them. As she filled the bath with water and bubbles, and began to strip down, the thought occurred to her that Ron would probably want to move in now - or at least, get a place together with her. She didn't mind it so much, except that she would no longer be able to have her cosy nights in with Draco - she was sure that Ron would kick up a fuss, no matter how much he said he would change now they were engaged. She would miss those evenings lounging with her friend on the sofa and laughing at the TV.

She sank into the bath and closed her eyes, eager to forget about the events of the day and just relax. It bothered her that she wasn't excited about getting engaged - but perhaps that was just the result of a long day and a lingering doubt that this would actually change anything at all, except the pressure on her to quit her job. Certainly it was nothing to do with the vague and undefined flutter of excitement and arousal she experienced whenever she was around Draco - nothing to do with that at all. Or so she tried to convince herself.