A/N: I couldn't get this chapter out of my head. The next isn't as clear in my mind, so definitely don't anticipate another chapter tomorrow, but I hope you all enjoy a quick update! Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far. I love getting these reactions. Also, whoever made the insinuation about Ron alone with a nanny... I wasn't going there but I totally laughed out loud at that logical progression. Consider me entertained!

Row

For once Ron was caught up. Completely caught up on all the paperwork and the filing, and he actually had time to look into some reports of pockets of land in the countryside that were being isolated by some charm. Possibly dark magic. Nothing inside could leave and others couldn't get in. So far, they had been able to break them down, though each was getting stronger and they hadn't figured out who was behind it.

"Have we checked with George to see if there isn't some new product he's testing?" Harry asked. "Or if he knows of anyone developing something of the like?"

"No, but I thought of that, too," Ron said. He liked when Harry came over to bounce ideas with him. It was like the old days, when they were partnered up. Then Harry had to go get himself promoted and he suddenly had meetings and briefings and a million other responsibilities that left Ron more or less to his own devices. Maybe if Neville were still here, but he had taken up the Herbology job before Harry had been made head of the department. "I could definitely see it being a prank, setting someone inside, but it is rather large for that, don't you think?"

"Just check," Harry said, scratching his head.

"You know what's going to happen when I do, right?" Ron said, standing and putting files into his briefcase to look at later. "If he hasn't been testing something like that, he's going to, and who do you think is going to be his guinea pig?"

Harry laughed, standing up. "Getting out of here early?"

"Just a bit," Ron said. "I'll go talk with George and I think I'm going to go pick up something from the Leaky Cauldron for dinner."

"Alright," Harry said. "See you tomorrow."

Ron left the Ministry, walking into Diagon Alley. He caught George just before he was about to leave the shop and, as expected, George's eyes lit up, even though the pockets were not his. "Why don't you come by this weekend and we can talk more about it," George said, turning and walking away from Ron.

"That wasn't a suggestion," Ron shouted after him. "George, that wasn't… see you Saturday."

Ron picked up meals for each of them, asking the bartender to package Hugo's in several smaller boxes, and grabbed one of the pumpkin pies Hermione liked so much. Even with all the little side trips, Ron was at the house ten minutes to five. He opened the front door, wiping his feet on the welcome mat, and backed into the entryway.

"I'm home!" he shouted out.

As he moved into the living room, Ron froze. There was a girl with short blue hair sitting with Rose and Hugo, coloring pages. She smiled at him uncertainly.

"Hi, Ron," she said.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?"

"I'm Britney. We met once at your wedding," she said as Hugo came over and tackled his leg. Rose was engrossed in whatever she was making. "Hermione's cousin. Well, actually she's my mum's cousin. So… second cousin? Or removed cousin? I don't exactly remember how that works."

"Is everything okay with Hermione?" Ron asked, setting the stack of boxes on one of the side tables. "Where is she at?"

Britney had just opened her mouth when the front door opened again, Hermione stepping through the door behind Ron. She stopped where she was.

"Mum!" Hugo shouted, running towards Hermione as Ron's jaw clenched and the last few weeks of not being called at the last minute to pick up the kids—not needing to shift schedules—came into focus.

"How was your day?" Hermione asked Hugo, holding him and pushing down his wild bush of hair.

"Good! I got a sticker," he said, showing her a star sticker on the back of his hand.

"You did! That's great," Hermione said. She gave a nervous glance sideways, then moved passed Ron, into the living room. "How were they?"

"Great!" Britney said. "As usual."

Hermione walked over, leaning down to kiss the top of Rose's head. Rose looked up at her with a smile, then went back to her page. Britney stood, grabbing a backpack and stuffing a couple large textbooks inside.

"Hugo's teacher said there's this picnic thing that parents are invited to this Friday at eleven, by the way," Britney said.

"Great, thank you," Hermione said.

"Do you mind if I get paid today?" Britney said.

Ron snatched up the boxes again, walking into the kitchen as Hermione lowered her voice, talking with Britney, likely paying her. Ron dropped the stack and pulled out plates, more clattering happening than he intended, not wanting to be with any of them right now. He had half a mind to go spend the rest of the evening with Harry and Ginny or heading back to work, but he wasn't going to do that to Rose and Hugo.

Ron heard Hermione playing with them in the other room. He put the pie in the refrigerator, taking out his wand. With a hard flick he summoned glasses. One broke from the force and Ron growled.

"Reparo," he said, fixing it and grabbing the three, setting them where Hermione, Rose, and he sat, grabbing a plastic cup for Hugo. "Dinner's ready," he said loudly.

Hermione ushered the other two in, avoiding Ron's gaze as he sat in his chair, leaning over the roast and vegetables on his plate, pushing it around with his fork.

"Ron, you should read the story Rose was working on," Hermione said quietly. "It's very good."

Ron swallowed before he looked up, smiling at Rose. She was holding out the pages she had been working on. There was a drawing on the top of each page, then words carefully written below. The story was about a wizard who went around helping the muggle police solve their mysteries. It was four or five sentences long.

"That's so good," Ron said, trying his best to sound happy and enthusiastic. "Best story I've read in ages."

Hugo filled the rest of dinner with continual chatter. Rose and Hugo got into an argument about whether they would get a family cat or an owl, as though either was in the works. Hermione ran interference. Ron was sure if he opened his mouth again, he wouldn't like what his kids would witness. He kept his jaw clenched, concentrating on the food and drink in front of him.

"I'm just going to take Rose and Hugo on a walk around the block," Hermione said as Rose went to the kitchen sink, turning on the water to wash her hands. Hugo pulled up the step stool to take his turn. "Alright?"

"Didn't know you needed to run things passed me anymore," Ron said under his breath.

Hermione pressed her lips together and gave his shoulder a squeeze before going to help Hugo, then moved to get jackets on both children. They walked out the front.

Ron left the dishes behind, walking into the office. He couldn't concentrate, not really. He shuffled around some of the work he had wanted to look through, unable to take it in, muttering questions meant for Hermione.


Hermione walked slowly as the other two skipped back and forth across the sidewalk, over the cracks and laughing as they tried to out jump each other. She had been good about getting home by 4:30 since getting in touch with Britney, having her watch Rose and Hugo twice from three to about five. Hermione paid her the full two hours, even though Hermione was home early each time. She went with Britney that first Monday, making sure Britney knew where to go and getting her name added on lists of approved adults to pick up the kids.

Hermione thought through the logic she needed to lay out for Ron once the kids were asleep. She had just wanted to show him that a nanny could be good. Show him that Rose and Hugo liked Britney. There had been little arguing since she had asked Britney to pick up the kids and the time Rose and Hugo were with her was minimal. They would hardly notice this.

She took a deep breath as she opened the door. Hugo ran in first, Rose following. Ron wasn't in the living room and she checked the kitchen. The dishes were all left where they were. He was in the office, though she didn't disturb him.

"Tuck the kids in, then deal with Ron," she muttered to herself.

Hermione let Rose and Hugo play a little longer, before ordering them to baths, reading a single story, and sending them to bed. She stalled a little longer, going into the kitchen and taking care of the cleaning. As she put Hugo's leftovers away, she saw the pumpkin pie. Once the dishes were cleaned, she pulled out a small plate, cutting a slice and taking a fork, heading towards the office. Carefully, she opened the door.

Ron was hunched over the desk, one hand with fingers laced into his hair, his red locks twisted and clumped in between. The way that side of his hair was mussed indicated he had been doing this for a while.

"I have some pie for you," Hermione said softly.

"No," Ron said shortly. "Thanks."

Hermione set aside the plate. "Ron, I think I need to explain—"

"Explain what?" Ron turned in the chair, his voice low. "How you went behind my back and hired a nanny even though you knew—you knew—how I felt about it."

"You just needed to see that it's not as terrible a thing as you're making it out to be," Hermione said. "The kids really like Britney, Ron."

"I don't want to get into this with you right now," Ron said, standing and walking out of the office. Hermione turned, following on his heels.

"Yes, let's just put it off like we put every conversation off. Every petty little problem you don't want to just resolve," Hermione said. She saw the pile of finished laundry in the basket by their bedroom door. Hermione walked over, snatching it up. "Why don't you grow up, Ron? Actually have an adult conversation."

Hermione heard Ron stop behind her as she went into their room, pulling out the linens, folding towels and tossing them angrily into a pile. Ron walked in behind her a moment later, standing across the room as Hermione continued to fold.

"How did this become my fault?"

"If you had just been open to the possibility—"

"You mean, if I had just agreed with you full stop," Ron said. "That's always what it is, isn't it? If I don't agree with you, I'm just too stupid to understand."

"I didn't say that."

"But that's what it is. That's what the problem is every time," Ron said. "My feelings on the matter are nulled by your brilliant, superior mind."

"I never said that!"

"You would be furious if I had pulled this kind of bullshit," Ron said. "Going against my express wishes and hiring some nanny even though—"

"She is my cousin's daughter, not some stranger," Hermione cut him off, her face burning. "You're the one who said you needed a more steady schedule at work and I have said for ages that we should hire someone who could pick the kids up and watch them until we get home."

"Oh, yes, that makes it alright," Ron said. "You know how I feel about it and you still went off and held interviews."

"People hire sitters all the time!"

"A nanny is not a sitter," Ron said, stepping up to the other side of the bed.

"A nanny is what we need, Ron, and I am fed up with you digging your heels in on the issue, then being angry when I can't leave work at three in the afternoon."

"You know what this really is about... you think you know best. Everything you decide is best for our children must be so," Ron snapped. "You just can't stand the idea that I could possibly be a competent parent too!"

Hermione stopped, the bedding falling with a crease across the bed. She ignored it, staring at Ron.

"What exactly have I decided for Hugo and Rose that didn't include you."

"The muggle school," Ron said.

"You agreed the academy would be best—"

"I didn't agree on anything, Hermione. I was fine with taking them to be with their own kind."

"'Their own kind'? Did you really just say that?" Hermione seethed, her hands balling into fists.

"That's not how I meant it, and you know it."

"Funny, sounded like the same pureblood bigotry I've heard my entire life."

"Rose hates it there," Ron said. "She feels like we're making her lie to the other students. They make fun of her because she doesn't have the same things they do."

"It's not a terrible thing for Rose to learn from!"

"She has no friends there, Hermione!" Ron said. "The only godsend is that Rose adores Miss Ford."

Hermione scoffed. "Oh yes, I'm sure Miss Ford is a lovely influence on her."

"It's a bunch of rich kids who have been handed everything. But, you know, since I'm the one who has to see it everyday when I pick her up and she's asking me if she doesn't have a phone because we're poor—"

"Is that what this boils down to, Ron? You don't like someone thinking you're poor?"

Ron's face reddened and Hermione knew she had crossed a line. His eyes focused, but she stood her ground, raising her chin and waiting for his response.

"You let your cousin or her daughter or whoever know that after next week we don't need a nanny," Ron said.

"I won't," Hermione said. "And I don't appreciate the insinuation that it makes me a bad parent to want a little extra help."

"Hermione, I have let you make the decisions on their school and didn't take issue when you decided to take this position—"

"—decided? Well, how gracious of you to let me decide what jobs I can take—"

Ron raised his voice above hers. "—but I will not let our work interrupt what's most important!"

Hermione leaned onto fists over the bed, narrowing her eyes at Ron. She knew she should walk out and go to the house office to work things off. She should put a hold on the nanny and wait until they were both had a decent amount of sleep and time to discuss this civilly. She knew, but she took a deep breath.

"Just because you're as high in the ministry as you're going to get, doesn't mean I should turn down my opportunities to make you feel better about yourself," Hermione seethed. He stood stock still, hands on his hips as his eyes softened in pain. She knew she should stop. She shouldn't say another word, but it felt better than it should to say something that he didn't have a response for. "Just because you're unhappy with your job doesn't mean I should give up mine to avoid hiring a nanny."

Ron let out a breath and wiped a hand down his face. Tears coated his eyes. Hermione waited for him to retort back. She waited for him to yell or curse or retaliate in any way. Instead he shook his head, turned on his heel and walked out the bedroom door, letting it swing freely on its hinges. Hermione waited a moment, then puffed herself up, ready to follow Ron and make him finish the conversation. She followed him into the living room, and opened her mouth to speak when she saw him begin to turn and he disapparated with a pop.

He had left and Hermione felt everything catch in the center of her chest—a ball of tension suffocating her. She stumbled back into their room, the bed half made as she curled up against the headboard in the center, rocking back and forth as she sobbed into her hands.


Hermione couldn't sleep. She cleaned and organized until she finally crashed. Two in the morning and Ron still hadn't returned. When her alarm went off at six she turned, hoping to see him beside her. He wasn't there. The other side of the bed was empty. Hermione swallowed back a sob and got up, running through her morning routine faster.

Most mornings Hermione would take a shower and get ready while Ron took his turn. Then she would wake Rose and Hugo, getting each of them dressed and their hair combed as Ron cooked breakfast. Thinking she would have to fit in dropping them off, she hurried through her own morning routine, being more abrupt in rousing the kids, throwing out quick outfits, telling them to get dressed and come downstairs.

Hermione pulled out eggs and milk putting bacon in the oven and toast into the toaster. Rose was dressed fine when she came downstairs, but Hugo's shirt was inside out and he had put his jeans over his pajama pants.

"I can't button these, Mum," he said.

She would have laughed if only she had the time. She cut a banana in half, placing one on each place and setting one in front of Rose and another where Hugo sat.

"I'll fix it in a minute," she said. "Eat right now."

"Where's Dad?" Rose asked.

Just as Hermione was looking for what to say, the kitchen door opened and Ron came in, wearing his clothes from the day before. He didn't say anything and wouldn't look at Hermione, but she let out a breath.

"Mum, the eggs are touching the bacon," Hugo whined.

"Just move it over," she said, her head was already aching.

"I can't eat it, Mum," Hugo said. "And the banana, too, Mum!"

Hugo started to push it away and Hermione was leaning in to fight him on it when Ron stepped forward, taking the half a banana and biting off a chunk at the end.

"Hey!" Hugo said.

"What, I thought you didn't want it?" Ron said.

"Just the part touching," Hugo said indignantly.

"So the eggs—"

"Just that part," Hugo said, pointing very specifically portion. "Not one bite more, mister!"

Rose laughed, eating her own food as Ron ate the little bits of the food touching one another and Hugo seemed satisfied, digging into his breakfast enthusiastically. Hermione turned back to the kitchen, feeling her cheeks warm.

"I only made enough for the kids," she said quietly. "Sorry."

"I'll get something on the way to work," Ron said, his voice tight and terse. He still hadn't looked at her and Hermione just wished he would yell. He turned his attention to Hugo, fixing his clothing between Hugo eating. "Be ready soon, Rosie. We have to get going."

Ron left the kitchen, heading towards their room. Hermione rushed to drop the pans into the sink, turning off the oven.

"Rose, I need you to help your brother get his backpack, okay?" Hermione said, not looking back as she rushed to follow Ron.

He was bent over the bathroom sink, bare chested as he washed his face, shaving quickly. He didn't acknowledge her presence as Hermione moved closer.

"Where were you?" Hermione asked, her voice shaky.

"George and Angelina let me sleep in their guest bed," Ron said, still concentrating on his own reflection. "He said he had to clear out a bit of storage, but I can stay in the flat above the shop."

Hermione felt her breath catch. "You don't mean that," she said, tears filling her eyes. "Ron, you can't—"

"No, what I can't do is this fighting anymore," Ron said, his eyes finally piercing hers, still full of hurt and anger. "I can't spend every night walking on eggshells and wondering what my wife really thinks of me."

They both stood still, not breaking contact until Ron turned back, taking the razor to the top of his stubble, moving down in an even line.

"I didn't mean it," Hermione said. "It had just—"

"—been a long day," Ron said.

"Well it had," Hermione said.

"It's been a long several months, Hermione," Ron said.

"Dad, we're ready!" Rose called out from the other room.

Hermione looked towards the door, fear and guilt waving through her gut. She looked back. "Ron, I didn't mean it."

"You did on some level, or you wouldn't have had it loaded up," Ron said. He turned off the water and took a face towel, wiping away the excess cream. He reached in the closet for clothes. "All I am to you is a failure."

"That's not true," Hermione said, tears spilling over. "Ron, please… please…"

He shook his head, pulling a fresh shirt over his head and grabbing work robes to put on when he got there. Hermione caught him around the waist as he passed, stopping him.

"What are we going to tell Rose and Hugo?" Hermione said softly, biting her bottom lip.

"We tell them the truth," Ron said.

"Ron—"

"'I'll come by to take them in the mornings still, if that's what you're worried about. And I'll just plan on picking them up and going back into work whenever you get off from now on."

"Ron, please…"

"Daddy! I'm going to be late!"

Hermione reached up desperately, framing his face in her hands. "Please, let's just talk," Hermione said, her eyes shifting between his. "Don't do anything until we talk? I'll take a long lunch."

Ron took a deep breath and looked away. "Fine," he said, grudgingly.

Hermione moved to her tiptoes, leaning in, but Ron gently removed her hands and sidestepped her, walking out into the living room.

"Alright, munchkins, let's move out," he said.


"Ron," Harry said, walking into his cubicle. "Where were you?"

"What do you mean?" Ron asked, brows knit.

"Department meeting," Harry said. "You missed it."

"Oh, er… I forgot," Ron said.

"Is everything okay?" Harry asked, leaning in and lowering his voice. "Dager said you got in late, which isn't like you, and you've been wandering around here like a zombie."

"Is that supposed to be a joke? You know I have an inferi case, right?" Ron said. His voice had less of a jovial quality than what he was trying to go for.

The night before, he hadn't even known where he was apparating until he was on George's doorstep. He could have easily splinched himself, had his mind been conflicted. He stood on the stoop for a moment, mulling over whether George was really the best person in that moment, but before he could change his mind, the door flew open and George stood above him, the somber expression George rarely wore masking any of the jokester beneath.

Ever since the war, none of them were quite right when reacting to sudden appearances.

"What's wrong?" George asked. "An attack?"

"Nothing like that," Ron said. "I… I-I don't think I can really talk about it."

George relaxed, ushering Ron in. Angelina was waiting, looking equally concerned. George shook his head and her body loosened as she went to get tea. George sat with Ron for half an hour before Ron gave him a basic overview.

"Well you can stay here for the night while you cool off," George suggested.

"I think this is going to need more than a night," Ron said. George looked stunned and Ron felt the need to flee again. But who would he go to? His parents? They wouldn't get it. Harry and Ginny had never been through the same things as him and Hermione. If he went to Bill, it would just be a repeat of when he was eighteen with Harry and Hermione in the forest. Even George didn't seem to struggle with his marriage, but he at least had listened.

"Ron, that's a big decision," George said.

"George, after all these years she doesn't think I'm good enough for her," Ron said, choking on the words. "Let's face it, she's right."

"She doesn't think that at all. And what about the kids and…"

George went on, but it didn't register as Ron just kept shaking his head back and forth, unable to get her words out of his head. Not that he hadn't thought the same thing, but her voice attached to them meant so much more. Eventually George gave up, making up the guest bed for him and promising that if he still wanted a place after sleeping on it, he would help Ron get settled in the flat above the shop on Diagon Alley.

Now Harry sat in the chair next to Ron's desk, leaning with elbows on his knees and a probing look, waiting to see if Ron was going to share. But they weren't fifteen anymore and Harry wasn't their mediator. The last thing Ron wanted was for this to get around to his family on a larger scale. He had already made George promise not to say anything just yet.

"I can tell something's up, so why don't you just spill?" Harry asked.

Ron turned and Hermione was now leaning against the opening to his sad excuse for an office. Ron leaned back and Harry turned.

"Hey there, Hermione," Harry said. "What are you doing down this way?"

"I just wanted to take Ron out to lunch, actually," Hermione said, her voice more high pitched and strained than natural. She forced a small smile. "If you don't need him, that is."

"He's all yours," Harry said with a sigh. "Come see me when you get back, though. There were a couple more of those barrier spots cropping up in Birmingham."

"Sure thing," Ron said, straightening some papers. Hermione watched him intently. He could practically feel her eyes on him as he stood, digging his hands in his pockets. "Where would you like to go for lunch?"

"There's that new deli around the corner," Hermione suggested.

"Alright," Ron said shortly, nodding to let Hermione lead the way.

They walked in silence, up and out of the Ministry, onto the street, and down the way. Hermione ordered first, Ron following up. Hermione started getting out money, but Ron had it paid for before she could even open her wallet.

"Thank you," Hermione muttered awkwardly.

Ron gave her a curt nod and they waited for their orders before sitting. Neither of them touched their sandwiches.

"I didn't mean what I said last night," Hermione said quietly. Her eyes were already wet and bloodshot.

"Yes, you did," Ron replied, calmly, trying not to let the emotion rise in him with her sitting across from him like this. "Look, I realize this is as far as I'll get at work. Unless I wanted to stab my best friend in the back, there's nowhere else for me in the Auror department and I don't really feel like doing anything else there. I'm not stupid. I've known it for a long time. And I don't care, but I never thought you did."

"I don't," Hermione said quickly, wiping the outside corner of one eye. "Really, Ron, I was just upset."

"You've been upset a lot lately," Ron said. She pressed her lips together. "I've been upset my fair share, too, but it's not right putting Hugo and Rose through that, is it? I mean, at least if we have our own space—"

"Don't talk like that, please."

"Hermione," Ron said, trying to be gentle. She started shaking her head before he even began. "I'm talking with George. I'll get some things and move into the flat in the next few days. Yes, I am. I just need some time."

Hermione buried her face in her hands, tears flowing steadily now. Ron sat back, feeling gutted and miserable and determined all in one. He reached out, running his fingers up and down her forearm until she came back out, wiping tears.

"And you're going to file for divorce?" she asked, sniffling.

Ron hadn't thought yet about that fully. The word twisted his stomach into knots. He shrugged. "If that's what you want."

"I don't want any of this," she said.

"Maybe you should have thought about that before hiring a nanny without us being in agreement on that," Ron said. She held his gaze for several moments. Seeing her now, he couldn't ever imagine being without her. Her hand was in his now and they were both gripping tightly, as though this was the last connection that could be severed.

"We needed a nan—"

Ron huffed before she finished, letting go and folding his arms across his chest. "This is just going to go around in circles."

Ron moved to stand and Hermione grabbed his hand in both of hers.

"Let's go to therapy," Hermione said. She let go, scrambling in her pockets. "I was looking up marriage and family counselors with good reputations around here. I… I have a list."

She handed the list of names and addresses to Ron. He sighed, reading down.

"These are all muggle addresses."

"They're all muggle counselors, yes," Hermione said.

Ron looked at her. "Why not a wizard or witch?" Hermione shifted uncomfortably where she at. Ron growled. "You're worried someone might find out about it."

"Ron, my job is already so public and if someone like Rita Skeeter got ahold of that information... who knows how they'll bring Rose and—"

"And how do you think that's going to go over in the meantime?" Ron said. "How are we supposed to talk about work or where we met or any number of things openly if we're trying to be covert about what we call them?"

"Alright," Hermione said. "I can find wizarding therapists, but will you go with me? I want to fix things. I want to fix us."

Ron leaned back in his seat, rubbing at his neck. "Yeah," he said shortly. "Of course."

Hermione let out a breath. "And you'll stay?"

Ron shook his head solemnly. Hermione pressed her lips together.

"I understand," she said, her voice cracking. She hadn't touched a bite, but wrapped up the sandwich. "I'll figure out what to tell Rose and Hugo."

"We both will," Ron said with a nod, staying where he was. "We'll do it together tonight when you get home, if you want."

Hermione stood and Ron simply watched her leave, giving one last look at him on her way to the door. Before she opened it, Hermione wiped at her eyes, cleared her throat, and straightened herself, walking out with the professional demeanor and decorum expected of her. The type of decorum no one had expected from Ron. Mostly because no one noticed him.