A/N I hate unsolved cliffhangers, but I'm an awful person.

Okay, so love to Cat130, sorry I forgot to give a shout out for your review on Chapter 9! To pianomouse, I shall add 'death via jet engine' to the list of brilliant threats I've had towards Fleur, and I love the fact that you made it so no-one else would be hurt :P Crossy70, I'm afraid that the cliffhanger is more of a teaser for the next story, so you'll have to wait a little longer ;) What can I say, I'm an awful person!

And last but never least, major massive love for you, bookworm4life0812; firstly, I would feel sorry for the piano for having to touch Phlegm's face... I've written her as an awful person I know :P But more than anything, your defense of my writing nearly made me cry; there are so many hateful reviewers out there that try to bring a writer down, and having someone stand up for you is bloody epic. So thank you so very much, you are awesome :)

Disclaimer: Don't you think I would've told you and sent you all cookies if I'd become JKR? But I haven't. Sorry.

Year 11

Ron sipped his pumpkin juice miserably, ignoring Harry beside him who was desperately trying to cheer him up, and had also gone sans alcohol in support of his friend. "Come on Ron, what's got you so miserable?" He asked eventually.
The red-head sighed. "Nothing. I could just really use a drink right now."
He didn't notice the green eyes boring into his with anxiety, too concerned with his self-wallowing as he stared at the group of other aurors cheerfully getting in the next round at the bar. "Come on, let's go home." Harry called, deciding to give up on his stubborn friend, before following him out of the pub and apparating to the home he shared with Hermione.

The two women were surprised to see their husbands back so soon, but while Ginny rose to kiss her husband hello, Hermione stayed seated, looking wearily at Ron. In the months since last years Christmas, they had been bickering almost as much as they had when he had his drinking problem, though she never seemed able to reach the core reason for his irritation with her, so simply blamed it on the ultimatum she had presented him with. But she couldn't regret doing it, though remembered with a startling clarity how his words had slurred and he had stumbled away that Eve, and the disappointment in her children's eyes when she had to tell them their dad would be staying at the Burrow that night. But she had assumed, apparently foolishly, that after they had had another screaming row (which occurred on New Years Eve and followed the same pattern), they would be able to talk like adults and sort out their anger. Instead, she had been met with passive- and not so passive- aggressive resentment, and Ron often exploded and bellowed at her for apparently no reason at all.

A frequent cause for anger seemed to be discussing James' first year at Hogwarts, as they were doing now, and he often snapped or simply glared at her when she expressed excitement for Rose's ever-closer departure. She had mentioned her concerns to Ginny, who had said that Harry had seemed more morose than usual prior to James leaving, but certainly hadn't taken his worries out on her, and they had rather been brought closer together. She saw her friend looking at her with a mixture of confusion and nervousness now, as Ron sat in stony silence staring at her as if she had just announced that she had decided to resurrect Voldemort and have a baby with him. Harry had also clearly noticed the tension, as he suddenly called out to Ron, asking him what was wrong and turning his gaze away from her. "Nothing." Ron replied sullenly, his eyes immediately returning to boring holes in her head.
"Well there's obviously something up, what is it?" Ginny added as she shared a clueless look with her husband.
"None of your business is what it is."
"Ron," Hermione said softly, cutting across the Potters' outraged comment, "we just want to know why you seem a bit-"
"A bit what, exactly?" He interrupted, irritation sparking in his voice.
"You're just acting a bit upset."
He suddenly jumped up, hissing, "Well I'm sorry I can't 'act' like the perfect person." He swiftly stormed upstairs, leaving the shocked and confounded friends behind, staring up after him.

"What in Merlin's old underpants was that about?" Harry asked, breaking the few minutes silence. Sighing and shaking her head in a sign of perplexity, she denied their offer of a place to stay for the night so she didn't have to deal with her foul-tempered husband, before wishing them goodnight and seeing them out. She followed Ron with no small amount of trepidation, finding him lying in their bed twirling his wand idly and watching the sparks fly from it with boredom.
"Ron." she began quietly, sitting on the edge of the bed and trying to take his hand, though he simply snatched it away.
"What?"
"What's wrong?" When he didn't answer she gave a heavy sigh and looked away, murmuring, "Is this still about Christmas?"

He ignored her, still staring at the multi-coloured flashes above his head, and she was just about ready to give up and return to the lounge to read, when he suddenly snapped, "Where were you today?"
She frowned slightly. "What do you mean?"
"Where. Were. You. Today." He repeated slowly, as if she was deaf. "I came by your office and you weren't there. Neither was that bastard you work with."
"Don't call Stewart a bastard." She bit back. "And we were both in a meeting with Kingsley."
He scowled. "I don't like you spending time with him. Or any guys for that matter."
Her mouth dropped open in disbelief. "Are you mad? I work with Stewart, I have to spend time with him! Besides, half my friends are men!"
"Maybe I don't want you to be friends with them any more then."
Anger flushed through her. "You don't own me Ronald." She replied coldly. "I'll be friends with whomever I want, and spend time with anyone I want to."
He jumped up suddenly. "You're my wife. If I want to know where you are or who you're with it's my right." He sounded suddenly furious, but she merely shook her head in shock, before he grunted angrily and pushed past her.
"Where are you going?" She called after his retreating form.
"None of your business!"
"So I suddenly have to tell you where I am and what I'm doing all the time, even when I'm at work, but you can just disappear like that?"
He scowled at her. "I told you I didn't want you going back to work, why don't you just quit? And yeah, that sounds about right." With that he stormed out of the front door, leaving her silently fuming behind him.

"Mum?" She whipped around to see Rose in her pyjamas, looking at her with concern. "Is everything okay?"
She gave a tender smile and pulled her daughter into a hug. "I thought you were asleep darling."
She shook her head. "I've been reading for a little while. What's wrong with dad?"
Hermione attempted a reassuring look. "Nothing." The young girl frowned, making the corners of her mother's mouth twitch slightly and kiss her forehead, looking affectionately into her eyes. "You look so much like your father." She murmured, taking in the deep red hair and slight creases that appeared when she was concerned about something. Rose grinned at her, and it was Bill's grin below her own eyes, making her smile lovingly back. "So what were you reading?"
Another of the eldest Weasley son's expressions flitted across her face; slight guilt. "Um, well, I actually borrowed one of your books from your special bookcase." She replied, gnawing at her lower lip just as her mother did and throwing into even sharper relief how much the perfect mixture of her parents she was.
Hermione raised an eyebrow, as she had asked her children to check with her about borrowing from her private collection, as many of the books were too dark, too scary or simply too fragile for a ten and seven year old, before casting a silent accio towards her daughter's room, laughing when she saw the book that landed in her hand. "Hogwarts: A History?" She chuckled at her daughter. "This was my favourite book when I was younger." They headed over to the sofa and she took her in her arms, stroking her hair just as her own mother had done to her when she was a girl. "So," she began as Tyg and Crookshanks curled into their owners' laps, "are you excited to be going next year?" She immediately started rattling off facts that she had read and chatting eagerly about the classes she wanted to try. After an hour or so, she started yawning widely, so Hermione ushered her to bed, kissing her temple goodnight and returning to her own bedroom, caught between hope and apprehension that Ron may return tonight. When she woke the next morning, he was still nowhere to be seen.