A/N I found this chapter somewhat difficult to write, but I think it's important to say that even in the worst of relationships, you can have good days and moments of peace. Rest assured, however, that Ron being a pudding spoon will not last long.

Thanks again to everyone who's favourited, followed and to the lovely bookworm4life0812; oh my days that mental image made me laugh, a ginger shrunken head ranting about Quidditch only to be smashed against the windshield, hehe you're not the only one who's evil :P no fun times this chapter between Bill and Hermione, but next chapter... ;) Keep enjoying!

Year 6

Ron and Hermione lay in bed together, both reading; she a large tome on the comparisons between Welsh and Irish Celtic runes, and he the newest copy of Quidditch Weekly. After a few minutes of silence other than the rustling of pages and the occasional hum of thought from her or scoff of irritation or disdain from him, she felt his hand take hers, fingers entwining. She looked over at him in confusion, but he simply gave her a small, sweet smile and continued his magazine.

When the exhaustion of the day overcame them, they dimmed the lights and turned to face one another in the dark, Ron's arms wrapped protectively around her waist. "Do you think Rosie enjoyed the party?" He asked after a few moments.
"Of course she did. Even if she did spend the majority of the time bragging to Albus that she's older than him." They shared a small chuckle. "It was really sweet of you to plan it."
He brushed a stray strand of hair from her face and shrugged slightly. "With seven kids mum never had chance to throw anyone a surprise party, so it's something I always wanted to do when I had children of my own. Besides, she's not going to turn five every day, right?"

He absently traced patterns over the material of her vest, other hand holding hers gently, both lost in their thoughts for a short while. "Hugo and Lily were both really well behaved." Hermione murmured after a while, referring to the two year olds, born only a month apart.
"Yeah," He agreed, "the Burrow on a normal day is hectic, but for a kid's birthday party even I wanted to have a tantrum." She laughed lowly. "You've done a great job with them both." He whispered, and she could hear twangs of guilt in his voice.
"We have." She corrected gently.
He shook his head in the darkness. "No, you have. I've been..." He trailed off uncomfortably, and she kissed his cheek in reassurance.
"You're getting better now, that's what matters." He pulled her forward to press his mouth to hers in a gentle, but loving, way and she smiled against his lips. "Don't forget," She prompted gently, "you have your meeting tomorrow."
She heard his sigh of exasperation. "I've not touched a drink in six months, why do I have to keep going to these AA meetings, let alone bloody therapy?"
"To make sure that you carry on not drinking. It's better to be safe than sorry, Ron; alcoholism is a serious condition."
"I know, but-"
"Please, Ron. You're doing so brilliantly so far, please carry on. For Rose and Hugo. For me."
His fingers stroked her cheek gently. "Anything for you, love."

He was silent for so long that she was sure he had fallen asleep, and was just about to drift off when his voice cut through the quiet again. "She loved Bill's present. It was... Sweet of him." He was referring to the small kneazle kitten he had bought her, after getting Crookshanks's acceptance of the small ginger feline, of course. He had sought Hermione and Ron's approval before buying the young girl the pet, and had even asked her assistance in choosing one that Crooks wouldn't immediately despise. Unconsciously, she had chosen a kitten that perfectly matched the colour of his hair.
"Hmm..." She mumbled drowsily, "He's her favourite uncle."
"I wonder why?"

His voice was still forcing nonchalance; though he would never tell his wife, one of the first things his private therapist seemed to have latched on to was the pressure from having so many older brothers, especially the smarter, infinitely more successful, and obviously attractive Bill. Sure, he was part of the Golden Trio, but he was considered the extra; Harry was the Chosen One, Hermione was the one who knew and planned everything, he was the guy who tagged along and, even worse, abandoned them. It was the same with his family; Bill was, well, he was just Bill, Charlie was the risk-taker, the rebel, Percy the smart one with the successful career, George and the late Fred were the pranksters who made everyone laugh, no matter the situation, and Ginny was the Quidditch superstar who had managed to capture the heart of the Boy-Who-Conquered. And then there was him; Ron. 'It's no wonder I turned to drink.' He thought bitterly, before mentally slapping himself; this was exactly the type of thinking that had nearly cost him his job, his wife and his children.

"What's she decided to call the little beast?" He asked casually, referring to the tiny orange bundle that was currently curled up next to Rose, just as Crookshanks was lying determinedly between he and his wife.
Even with the ginger barrier between them, he could see her smile in the dark. "Tyg." She announced.
"Huh?"
"Tyg, as in Tigger, from Winnie-the-Pooh, but the Welsh spelling, because of my parents. He's orange, looks a bit like a wild cat, and he's one of a kind."
"What in Merlin's name is a Tigger?"
"Tigger is from a muggle book, made into a film." She began to sing softly. "He's bouncy, trouncy, flouncy, pouncy, fun, fun-"
"Have you gone mad?"
She openly laughed, loud and cheerful. "It's a song from one of the films!"
"Sure." He replied, sounding very unconvinced. "When has Rosie seen this Windy-the-Poop anyway? It sounds a bit dodgy to me."
"Oh she loves it, I used to put it on when..." The end of the sentence went unspoken; when you were drunk and we were arguing.

He, in an unusual act of understanding and emotional range ('Maybe he's a pudding spoon now,' Hermione thought wryly), dropped the subject. "It's great that Fleur's pregnant again, isn't it? About time!" He said in an overly bright voice.
Hermione's heart dropped; if there was something she would choose to forget from today it would be the French Whore's sinister smile in her direction when she had given the news. She was happy for her ex-lover, of course, but the way that bitch had used Victoire in the past made her uneasy. "Yeah, it is. Bill's a great father, he deserves a big family." She replied faintly.

"Speaking of..." Ron began, not noticing that her now wide-awake eyes were quickly blinking away tears, "Maybe we should stop casting the spell? You know, try again?"
She sighed. "I think two is enough Ron." As she saw the slumping of his shoulder, she quickly amended, "For now, at least. I don't want to neglect Hugo and Rose, and I think with things being how they are..." There is was again, the unspoken fact; he had been an alcoholic and was in no place to bring another new life into the world, even if he hadn't drunk for half a year.
He knew it too. "Okay love, maybe in a few years."

When his snores filled the room, Hermione slid herself out of the bed and padded to where Hugo's cot was, across the hall from their bedroom, and looked down on him with loving affection. "Your daddy loves you, you know." The child slept on, not hearing her whispered words. "And so do I." But then Bill's words from two years ago came back to her and, tears streaming silently down her face, she breathed; "You should have been his."

A/N2 Just a quick note; Tyg is real, he is gorgeous and I love him to bits :) Crazy cat ladies unite!