A/N Hello again! Some tempers snapping in this chapter, and some Phlegm for you to hate! Enjoy and thanks as always to everyone who's taking the time with this! Oh, and apologies in advance for my lame attempt at writing a French accent.

Disclaimer: JKR still owns everything recognisable. I just like to play with her creations and give them a grim time.

Year 10

Hermione and Bill found themselves at the Burrow on Christmas Eve, arguing with their respective others. Again. It was all done in hushed tones, of course, as the large Weasley family, as well as the Potters and various friends of theirs were in the magically warmed and enlarged tent in the garden, but the muted volume didn't hide the anger and, in some instances, open hostility flying around between the two couples.

Bill and Fleur were in the main living room, nose to nose and hissing at one another, Bill's face like thunder and hers in an ugly sneer. "Bill, there is nuzzing you can do, it eez my deceesion."
"I won't let you do it again." He practically growled. "You're not taking them away to France. You're not taking them away from me."
"I weel not be taking them away from you eef you agree to come with us." His tall form glowered down at her but she didn't flinch; she had long ago learnt that she could make Bill do whatever she wanted. Secrets and blackmail were the foundation of their marriage now.
"I am not moving to France." He stated darkly, as if daring her to argue.
She gave a smile that chilled him to the bone. "Oh non, Bill, you weel. If, of course, you don't weesh leetle Rose to find out she is not your brothers?"
He scowled. "I still don't know why you think that. Of course Rose is Ron's."
She laughed with a tinkle that would make most men melt, but made him want to hit her. "Come now, let uz be 'onest weeth each other. She says she was a month early, but she was showing as eef she was perfectly on time. Our leetle 'Ermione 'as been lying about ze father, I theenk." She peered at him curiously for a moment. "But I wonder, Bill, why you are so upset by ze idea?"
He grabbed her forearm, his mouth set in a furious line. "What you're talking about is ruining some of my family's lives. How the fuck could I not be angry?!"

Her eyes narrowed unbelievingly, but she simply spat back, "We are going to France."
He stepped back and held his head in his hands, seeming to be at first distressed, but when he looked at her again he had a look of absolute incredulity on his face. "How can you live like this?!" He demanded. "How can you be married to a man that you don't even like, let alone love? A man who you know is only staying with you because you're threatening to ruin the lives of the people he loves if he doesn't? A man you know," he stepped back towards her and leant down so they were at eye level, his eyes cold and his tone ringing with brutal honesty, "hates you, a man who despises every second of your pathetic existence, how can you bear to live married to a man like that?"
She didn't even blink at his candour, but gave a smug smile. "You do not 'ate me William," she replied with perfect certainty, "this eez just a bad time for us."
He scoffed and shook his head, chuckling darkly. "Keep telling yourself that if you want to, I don't care any more. But you are not pulling Victoire out of Hogwarts, and you are not taking my children to France."
"'Ow do you plan to stop me?" He merely glared at her, and for the first time in their exchange she faltered, a slight flicker of nervous fear flashing through her eyes. "Zey are not even yours." She hissed maliciously, but he didn't stop his silent intimidation.
"You are not taking them. I will do whatever it takes to stop you." He finally said, before turning on his heel and exiting, leaving his seething wife behind.

Meanwhile, in the orchard outside, Ron was pacing angrily whilst Hermione sighed in exhaustion, caught between wanting to scream at him or simply ignore his irritated voice. "-see why not, I've been sober for over five years! Why can't I have one bloody drink at Christmas!" He continued in his tirade, scowling at her.
"For Merlin's sake Ronald, no! You haven't been sober for five years, and even one drink could set you off again!" She snapped.
"I slipped up once last year!" He thundered. "Are you going to hold that against me forever?!"
She shook her head and let out a low groan of frustration. "Alcoholism is a serious problem! You can't afford to fall back into it, and as your friend's 'celebration' last year proved, one drink leads to more, which puts you right back at square one! Are you forgetting how bad things got before?"
"No, I haven't forgotten, because you never let me bloody forget!"
"I'm trying to help you!"
"I don't need help! All I want is to have fun at Christmas!"
"Why do you need to have a drink to have fun? Your whole family is out there, all your friends, your little girl and boy, why can't you just enjoy your time with them?"

He simply grunted in response and muttered something about 'everyone else is allowed', and her temper snapped, making her voice hot and her eyes flash. "Do you know what, if it's so bloody important for you to have a drink, fine. I'm not in charge of your life, go ahead." His eyes lit up as he began to almost skip away, but her next line halted him. "But don't think that the kids and I will be at home when you get back."
He spun around and looked at her, appalled, but she kept her gaze stony. "What?"
"I'm not going to submit them to you when you're drunk, especially not at Christmas." She stated simply; there was no way in hell, she thought, that she was going to let him ruin this for them.
"You can't not let me see them!" He exclaimed. "What are you going to do, take them to Bill's again?" He sneered as he said his brother's name, seeming to want to find any excuse to anger her.
She shrugged. "I don't know where we'll go, but I'm not letting you see them if you get drunk."
"They're my children!"
She stormed forward and glared at him, jabbing a finger into his chest. "And you're the one they nearly saw laughing at a pile of his own sick! You're the one with the problem here, and I'm not going to let you ruin tomorrow for them." Not giving him a chance to reply, she stormed away, back to the tent.

Unsurprisingly, she found herself sat next to Bill, and they spoke in hushed tones about their respective arguments, reassuring each other that they had taken the right course of action whilst they watched Victoire entertain her cousins with stories of Hogwarts. Ron stormed out, looked mutinously between his wife and the liquor on a nearby table, before sighing and resigning himself to sobriety. But Fleur saw this and, an evil glint in her eye, sauntered over with a glass of firewhiskey, determined to hurt her husband and the little bookworm. "Ron," she purred when she was close to him, highly satisfied when he flushed red at her veela charm, "I know you 'ave 'ad a leetle problem before, but surely you can 'ave one dreenk at Christmas?" He looked undecided when she offered the tumbler, but she merely batted her eyelashes flirtatiously and smirked when he took the drink and downed it in one, a look akin to elation crossing his face.
"Merci, Fleur. You have no idea how much I needed that."
Feigning concern, she laid a hand on his arm. "You and 'Ermione are not 'aving problems, I 'ope?" He sighed in reply and muttered irritatedly under his breath. "Ah, I am sure you weel be okay. Per'aps you should conseeder 'aving anuzzer child? It 'as 'elped Bill et moi." He shook his head slightly and quietly grumbled some more about his wife. "She does not want one?" Another head shake. "Ah, I suppose I cannot blame 'er, after Rose of course."
Now he simply looked confused, though she noticed his gaze travelling back to the firewhiskey nearby, so she pulled him over as he asked, "What do you mean, after Rose?"
Handing him another drink and smiling darkly as he downed it, she gave a slight shrug. "Well, she was a month early, was she not? Although 'Ermione did look as though she 'ad carried 'er for the full term. Per'aps she 'ad the wrong due date."
He frowned. "That's not possible. We conceived the first time we ever slept together." There was an unmistakable tone of pride to his voice, and she had to fight the urge to roll her eyes.
Instead, and not knowing that the seeds of doubt she would now place would grow to, in a few years, destroy all of their lives, she, with a sinister glint in her eyes said, "Well, it eez impossible eef she is actually your daughter. Bonsoir."