Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling owns everything you recognize from the Harry Potter books.

PART FOUR

Break-ups were bad, Ron thought, his brain muddled by all the drinks he had since walking into the Leaky Cauldron. Ever since Susan Bones had taken over the establishment, it had become the place to see and be seen, instead of just the way to get into Diagon Alley.

He wasn't here to see. He wasn't here to be seen, although he probably was being seen just by being here. He waved for another drink.

Hermione would've taken him home by now, if she were here. She would have taken him home three drinks ago.

Ron had never thought that three weeks could be so long.

He didn't think a night had gone by where he hadn't been thoroughly pissed since she left. It made for brutal mornings, working in the Auror Department, but it was worth it…he thought…for that oblivion that being buried in a bottle brought.

As he took his refilled glass from the barmaid, he thought about Harry morosely. Harry was the epitome of 'staying out of it'. He was in contact with Hermione, who had arrived safely in Australia. He came out drinking with Ron on Fridays. But Harry had Ginny the rest of the week…his Ginny.

He had asked Ron to come out ring shopping with him. Ron had gone along, but he was silent. He thought about how if Hermione was still with him, they would have both been shopping for rings.

As he sipped from the new glass, he contemplated the idea that he was becoming an alcoholic. He shrugged it off, and set his glass down on the bar.

"Well, Weasel, I've been watching you here for over two weeks now, I've decided it's time to talk."

Ron looked up blearily to see Pansy Parkinson, equally drunk, plop down onto the stool next to him most ungracefully.

"Yer a bitch, Park…park…Park'son," Ron slurred, hiccupping.

"Don't I know it," she said. "But I'm a bitch who's been drinking every day you've been here. I'm a bitch who's willing to have a drinking partner. You in?"

"Youuuu…" Ron said, pointing a finger at her. "You jest wan' me to pay."

"Side benefit," she grinned, and Ron was struck by the perfection of her teeth. "You in?"

"I'm in."

He gestured for the barmaid to fill up her glass. "Put it on my tab."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Pansy was getting over someone too. Ron learned that the next day, in the flat that Hermione had stripped of everything that belonged to her.

Ron had woken up with a hell of a hangover, and had almost rolled over onto a sleeping Pansy Parkinson. He was shocked, to say the least. Nevertheless, he was a perfect gentleman, giving her a hang-over potion and stumbling through an awkward question on whether or not she had done a Contraceptive charm.

He made coffee, and they sat in his kitchen, drinking out of huge mugs that Ginny had given him, with Quidditch games flying over the sides.

"So," Pansy said in a scratchy voice. She blushed and cleared her throat, then tried again. "Now what?"

Ron shrugged. "Depends on what you want. One-night stand, another relationship, or…."

Pansy made a face shaking her head. "I don't know. The sex was nice."

Ron blushed. "Yeah…I…" he stuttered.

Pansy laughed. "Friends with benefits?"

Ron smiled. "If you want."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

At first, it was just sex. Sometimes she would call him, sometimes he would call her. They both stopped going out to drink as much. But always, they met Tuesday nights for a glass of butterbeer.

They started doing more and more together, going on walks, going shopping, and Ron would cook her dinner sometimes. Ron did dinner, Pansy did breakfast.

Ron sometimes had dinners that he had to go to, as part of the tag-team that had vanquished You-know-who. He started taking Pansy, when a plus-one was needed.

Their arrangement confused everyone they knew. Draco, newly engaged to Astoria Greengrass, was completely bemused when Pansy brought Ron to his engagement party.

He was civil. Pansy had been a friend before they had dated, and they were tentatively moving back into that.

It wasn't until they were photographed together, looking very much like a couple, at a fancy restaurant that Harry decided to say something.

He walked into Ron's flat the morning the photograph was printed, and he wasn't surprised to see Pansy cooking eggs and bacon.

"Morning, Potter," she said. "Coffee?"

"Where's Ron?" Harry asked, throwing the paper on the table and sitting down.

"Shower," Pansy answered, getting Harry a plate and cup. "Why…oh." She slowly sat down and picked up the paper.

Ron entered shortly after that.

"Hey, Harry," he said cheerfully. It was a far cry from the tone Ron had used the first time Harry came over in the morning and saw Pansy making breakfast. "What's up?"

"We made the front page, darling," Pansy cooed. Her expression and tone hardened. "I told you we should have taken his camera."

Ron grimaced. "Great," he groused.

Harry sighed. "Well, your girlfriend looks good, at least."

The couple at the table with him froze. "What?" Ron finally asked.

"Your girlfriend," Harry said, gesturing to Pansy. "Isn't she?"

"We're…" Ron paused, scrunching his face up as he tried to find words to describe what Pansy was to him. "Okay, dating, I guess." He looked at Pansy, who shrugged.

"Give it a label, make it easier for the masses to understand." Ron grabbed Pansy's hand.

"You're adorable," he said.

"Really?" she replied, moving to sit in his lap, running a hand through his hair. "I thought I was sexy."

"You can be both," Ron told her, rubbing noses. "So long as you're mine."

As the two descended into a full out snogging session, Harry smiled and shook his head, leaving them to it.

A few minutes later, a peculiar smell began to make itself known. "Oh no!" Pansy said, breaking away from Ron. "The bacon!"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Ron's all right. I think he's dating Pansy Parkinson. He's moving on, moving past. I don't think you should come back quite yet, though. He might not be ready. Wait a while.

I hope you were able to reconnect with your parents, even though they can't remember you. Write back soon, I love hearing your stories of your magical primary.

Love, Harry.

P. S. Ginny sends her love.

Hermione carefully folded up the letter, and leaned over the railing that separated land from the sea. Her home was a few miles away, and she liked to walk here to be by the sea while she read Harry's letters.

It was winter, getting colder. She had started lighting fires so her small class wouldn't get cold…her house was in one of the wizarding sections of Sydney, and apparently, wizards didn't believe in heaters or ACs.

As she watched the waves breaking, she heard someone walk up behind her.

"Hermione?" a familiar voice asked. She whipped around, almost expecting Ron to be behind her.

She couldn't decide whether she was disappointed or not when instead she saw Charlie Weasley, in leather boots and a thick jacket, long red hair and burn scars.

"Hello, Charlie," she said, smiling. "How are you?"

"I'm fine," Charlie said. "I heard you moved to Australia…thought I'd stop by while I'm here."

She cocked her head to the side. "Are you here for the Hebridean Black we kept hearing about in the news?"

"Yup," he answered. "Far away from home, that one."

She nodded and smiled vaguely.

"So," he rubbed his hands together. "Would you like to get a bite to eat?"

"Sure."

He held out his arm, mocking old traditions. Laughing quietly, she took it, and they set off to a pub that Charlie swore made amazing fish and chips.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

They weren't dating, not exactly. But he found reasons to be in Australia, and she found herself looking forward to his visits, where he would whisk her off to the newest restaurant in Sydney.

Finally, they crossed the line.

"Hermione." Hermione turned to Charlie, who stood on her porch stoop, looking at her seriously. They had just come back from a restaurant that, although Charlie swore up and down it had amazing food, was really quite greasy and awful.

"Yes?" she asked.

"I know… that you were with Ron for over a year," he started, taking a deep breath. "But…I've been visiting for a year now…and…well, I was wondering, would you like to be officially a couple?"

Hermione stiffened, looking away. "I've physically been with both Fred and Ron."

If he was surprised, he didn't show it. Hermione stared off into the street, tense, waiting for him to make his excuses and leave. Instead, he drew closer.

"Hermione," he said softly, pulling her to him and tipping her chin up. "I'm not my brothers," he said seriously.

Her breath caught as she stared into his deep brown eyes, and she had to agree.

He was so much more.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

One Year Later… Dinner at the Burrow…

"You will have a wedding, won't you?" Mrs. Weasley said anxiously as Pansy rolled up her sleeves and grabbed a knife to start dicing the vegetables, a diamond flashing on her finger. "I'll never forgive Charlie for not having a real wedding, just a priest out in the middle of nowhere in Romania…why Hermione agreed to that I'll never know. At least we got to throw one for Ginny, and of course Angelina's family planned hers."

"It is traditional for the bride's family to throw the wedding," Pansy smiled at her soon to be mother-in-law. "But I'm sure my mother would be grateful for any help you could provide."

"Well," Mrs. Weasley sniffed. She had gotten over her disappointment that Hermione and Ron separated, and that Ron had chosen Pansy Parkinson of all people, and decided that she quite liked the young woman.

Ron grinned as he snuck behind his fiancée in the kitchen, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her cheek. "You're beautiful," he said.

"Except for the nose," Pansy replied, twisting around to put her arms around his neck. Ron kissed said nose.

"Beautiful," he repeated.

"Ron Weasley!" Molly said in faux outrage. "Out of the kitchen!"

"Yes, Mum." Ron left the kitchen, winking at Pansy. He was forever grateful that Pansy liked to cook. It helped his Mum warm up to her. She loved having someone to help and teach in the kitchen.

"What're you doing here?"

Molly froze as she heard Ron's voice in the other room, sounding less than pleased. A cacophony of sound followed, as Harry and Ron and Ginny and Bill and Fleur and Teddy and Victoire and Arthur and Percy and George and Angelina and Andromeda and two others spoke all at once.

"Pansy, dear," she said quietly. "Why don't you go with Ron."

Pansy nodded, and wiped her hands off, heading into the other room.

She slipped to Ron's side, and examined the couple in front of her. Mr. and Mrs. Charlie Weasley were standing in front of her and Ron. Harry and Ginny flanked Ron and Pansy, with Andromeda and Teddy sitting on an armchair, and George and Angelina and Bill and Fleur and Victoire on the couch.

"Granger," Pansy said sharply, wrapping an arm around a shaking Ron.

"What are you doing here?" he repeated. "Mum!" he shouted, raising his voice. "Did you know?"

"No, she didn't," Charlie said, wrapping his own arm around Hermione. "But family is always invited to dinner."

Ron tensed, choking on a few words before leaving the room. Pansy followed him, giving Hermione a nasty look first.

The others were left in the room in an awkward silence.

"I thought – it's been a year – he's engaged – I thought it'd be all right now," Hermione whispered.

"Too soon," Harry said, shaking his head. "Too soon."

"I tried…with the letter…" Hermione began. Ginny shook her head.

"That just made it worse," she said. "That you left after telling him something like that."

"I miss you all," Hermione said, looking down. "But maybe – maybe we should go."

"No," Charlie said, a mulish set to his jaw. "Not unless you want to."

And they stayed for dinner.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

It was predictably awkward, with Ron and Hermione sitting in silence while their partners contributed to the conversation. Finally, Pansy stood.

"Okay, I'm done." She glared down at Hermione and Charlie. "You've slept with three Weasleys, and left Ron after dropping the bomb, which was probably your biggest, most unforgivable mistake. Not that I'm complaining." She sent a mushy look toward Ron, who returned it, before her face hardened again. "That was a bad move, and while I understand you're a part of this family, I think you should give us some warning before you show up."

"Listen, you snake…" Charlie began. "It's been a bloody year, and it's not like we've kept anything a secret from any of you…"

"Don't call her a snake," Ron snarled.

"Stop." Pansy held up her hand, then continued. "Listen. We're all family here." She smiled at Mrs. Weasley, who smiled back warmly. "We're going to have children who will be cousins. There's Christmas, Thanksgiving, Easter…all of these holidays that are meant to be spent with FAMILY. And I'm sure Molly won't like having some of her grandbabies unofficially banned from her house." Pansy took Ron's hand. "So let's all make nice." She sat back down in her chair and leaned toward Ron, who was looking at her uncertainly. "I forgave you," she said softly. "And you forgave me. So please, forgive her?"

Ron nodded. "I forgive you, Hermione," he said, not even glancing at her, staring into his fiancé's eyes. Pansy smiled and kissed him on the lips.

Hermione looked down, and Charlie squeezed her hand, putting an arm around her. "Thank you," she said quietly. "Thank you, Ron."

The table was quiet for a minute, the only sound silverware clinking against plates.

"Well," Mrs. Weasley said brusquely. "Now that that nasty business is out of the way, is anyone ready for desert?"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

THE END