AN:
Sorry yes, I know it's taken 6000 years for an update. Now I'm one of those fanfic writers. And while I'm still not making any promises on update speed, I can say that the end half of last year was Carazaaaayyy. Especially in my work life... Let's be honest ONLY my work life.

I do hope you all had a great New Year and holiday period, whatever you celebrate... Even if you only celebrate no work like myself. HA, I'm hilarious.

Any mistakes let me know. I'm not entirely happy with this chapter, I feel like it's a bit choppy.

I still don't own Harry Potter. Or Emma Watson, dammit.

Thank you everyone that reviewed or followed or favourited, it is much appreciated so please feel free to do so again! :)
I do want to start trying to replying to reviews though, so please harass me via text if I don't.

On with it now, enjoy.

After her last encounter with Ginny, Hermione's days turned into weeks. Weeks became months in a blurred, numb kind of haze. Before she knew it, she hadn't seen Ginny in almost 9 months. And she felt like she ought to have died from it. There was a stage where she thought she had accepted complacency and her emotions plateaued to a point she could finally come to terms with. A point at which she believed the dreadfully incessant normalcies of her life had steadied. A point she greatly miscalculated.

After returning to work from her leave she threw herself back into heavy workloads and intricate cases as much possible. Not that things were the busiest for the time of year after she came back from her leave (she thought quite triumphantly, how else could Kingsley have afforded my absence). But the distraction of having her brain occupied on a regular basis once again eased a part of her being. Even if the diversion was only for moments at a time, she'd of course spend unnoticed moments pining after a certain redhead.

While things in her work life were going steady, and reliably so, home life wasn't exactly a party. Affections from Ron seemed to make her feel more ill than usual, and as a result she found herself struggling not to jerk away at his touch. Some days it was bearable. Comfortable and familiar. Like a well-worn home jumper. Other days she locked her jaw in an effort to restrain herself from outburst. Feeling like she wanted to shove his hand away in frustration.

She found herself curled into the couch in the living room on a Thursday night, feet neatly tucked under herself. Of course, she was buried in a book while Ron hurried about snatching coins from various spots throughout the house. As he begun to jingle, crossing the hallway just behind Hermione, her attention was pulled up and away from her book. This evening was one of those times where Ron was testing her limits and she found herself biting back a sneer.

"Ron, why on earth do you need so much change?" She swiveled herself around to find the awkwardly positioned ginger frozen in place mid step into the lounge room. Like a kid caught with their hand in a cookie jar.

"Uh… I'm just getting some extra Galleons for tonight, that's all." Hermione's brain split into 3 thoughts. 1: why the hell was he still standing so ridiculously. 2: they each had enough Galleons in Gringotts to last them & future generations for lifetimes. And 3: when the hell did Ron start making plans without telling her?

"Could you not stand like that. Please," she added in an attempt to soften her tone. "You know we have more than enough money to live comfortably. You shouldn't feel like you need to ration money or scrape around for change." Although, she knew this habit wouldn't break, stemming from an upbringing of borderline poverty and hand me downs. She still gave him a minute to fix his posture, and chose to keep quiet about him going out. At this point, she wouldn't complain over a night to herself. Ron must've either not considered the fact Hermione might be upset about him leaving for the evening or had just forgotten altogether. Clearing his throat uneasily he started again.

"I know, but every but helps ey," he added spinning a coin in the air before scooping it out of the air in his grip mid spin. "Right then. I think I'm off love." The tower of a man leaned over the back of the couch in an obvious attempt to get a kiss goodbye. The bookworm seeing this coming had delved back into her book to avoid as much interaction as possible. With a hum of dismissal from Hermione and a disappointed kiss to the top of the brunette's head, the red head was gone from the spot with an abrupt crack. Relief washed over Hermione, and with a deep exhale she lowered her book down and made to stand up. She'd make a nice cup of tea. Just. Relax for one night.

Despite Hermione's best efforts, she honestly wasn't sure how much longer she could keep up her charade. She found herself constantly reigning in her expressions and appearance. Handing out polite niceties to her lover when she was actually struggling to not let her lip quiver in sorrow. Or forcing her vocal chords not to tear howling screams from her throat.

She hated this feeling of being torn in two. No, the tea would do some good for her nerves. Give her something to keep distracted, something to focus her senses on. She'd begun to crave solitude and serenity these past few months. Regardless of the fact that she seemed to be one of the most in demand people of her time, which if anything made her crave the quiet more.

And so, she savored her tea. She returned back to her corner of the couch, sipped the scalding liquid timidly and basked in the glorious feeling of being truly alone. She whittled away the hours reading, rationing her tea and many cups afterwards as if it were an elixir. Gathering herself for bed when her eyes grew weary and heavy, she rested truly well. And surprisingly alone.

She awoke the same way. But felt slightly anxious at that fact. Great. Drunk, lost Ron is exactly what I need before work. Logical process dictated she send off an owl to Harry to check on her missing person, which she scribbled out frantically and attached promptly to their owl, Hermes. Stiff nervousness gnawed away at Hermione. While she waited for the returning owl she made herself another cup of tea to pass the time. And yes, she was entirely aware that she probably drank too much tea. She's British. Shush, it's what they do.

Midway through her second cup of the morning, the swooping of wings about to land caught her attention, and she almost snatched the reply letter from her owl. Unfolding the note instantly, she exhaled the breath she didn't realise she was holding.

Hermione,

Ron's here, safe and unharmed I promise. He got a bit sloshed last night, and I thought it best to take him home with me. Not that I was completely sober either. BUT I thought it'd be a better idea than letting him floo. Or god forbid, apparate.

Will look after him at work too, don't worry. (I know you)

Love Harry.
Ron mumbles his love too.

She didn't deserve them. Either of them. Harry, for taking care of Ron. For caring for their best friend and herself in times where she couldn't. Or simply wouldn't. Dependable and honourable. A true brother. She'd trust him forever, implicitly.

And Ron, her best friend. Her partner in life. He was far too doting and sweet. Too annoyingly careful and irrationally sensitive for what she preferred in a partner. However, she knew that she was extraordinarily lucky to have his love. Even if she truthfully didn't want it, she loved him back for all that he was worth.

She'd just finished dealing with a sensitive Centaur crisis before midday when she finally strolled into the Auror Department. After knocking at Ron's door, she didn't even bother waiting before she wandered in.

"Yeah. Come in." Came Ron's voice from behind his messy stack of parchment and hovering interdepartmental memos. Hermione cleared her throat politely, as if it were a question itself, and the Auror finally raised his head to meet the brunette's eyes. "Oh, 'Mione!" The ginger man leapt up immediately, almost disrupting the teetering pile of work in front of him. He looked tired and unkempt. No, he looked absolutely depleted and a complete mess. The man all but bounded around the table to pull Hermione into a kiss. Not even a little bit office appropriate. None. Zero. The kiss should have been flagged NSFW.

When they dettached Hermione couldn't help but release a disgruntled sigh. Which Ron of course mistook for tension and hummed happily in response. "Bloody hell, I've missed you." Realistically she could have happily gone for days alone, but she pulled out her automatic reply.

"I've missed you too." The redhead beamed at her while she paused. "What happened to you? Where did you go last night?" Ron had the decency to look sheepish.

"I dunno' how much Harry told you, but a few of us went a bit on ya' know. Well, later than we expected to anyway." The obvious bob of his Adam's Apple and proceeding gulp were enough of a sign to show there was perhaps more to it. She raised a delicate eyebrow, indicating to continue. "Some of the guys don't get to go out too often. It's not like they don't get allowed to or anything, they just don't get a chance to." She still sensed there was more to the story, but supposed it didn't matter.

"It's ok, I understand. You're allowed to socialize and go out when you want to. I certainly don't want to stop you," as she finished his eyes went from tentative to hopeful. Like he was thinking. And that's never a good sign.

"I'm so lucky to have you." He clutched each of her hands in his own clammy grip. "And I'll never forget that. Or…or take it for granted. You've given me everything I could ever want, or need." There was a pause in his speech, like he needed one last moment to collect his thoughts. Another great swallow, and a final clearing of the throat later he loosened his grip and made a move to reach for something from the inside of his vest while his right knee began a slow bending motion.

Fuck. No…No he's not. Not here, not now! He can't be.

Hermione, desperate to put a halt to things almost shouted her question at Ron, swiftly catching his loose hand which was still hovering in the air towards himself.
"Let's have dinner tonight!?" Brightest witch of your age, and you come up with dinner…tonight..? "Just the two of us. I can't remember the last time we had an actual date." She couldn't believe she had just basically given the man a time extension. He looked contemplative for a moment, before beaming at the thought of a romantic date.

"Brilliant love! Leave everything to me, you deserve it. Just be ready to go at half past 7," he planted a kiss on Hermione's still cheek before cheerily plonking himself back at his desk. As if that was the end of the conversation. Like he can just dismiss me now. "Oh and, put something special on," he added not even looking up from his desk. The brunette could do nothing but growl internally. The kind of growl that had transformed from a groan, still not quite a yell. As if screaming felt too juvenile. Nevertheless, she swiveled herself and with a whoosh of her work robes she was gone from his site.

She needed a minute alone in her office. Needed to find a way to stop the question he was bound to ask. Heck buying more time at this point would work, anything to get that magical brain of hers into gear. Anything for a solution.

She spent the entirety of that afternoon racking her brain. Filtering, devising and calculating to no end. Every outcome that didn't involve breaking Ron's heart lead back to the same place: a yes. She had no reason, logical or otherwise, to tell him no. Well… aside from the obvious, but she couldn't bare breaking the man's heart. Let alone turning her back on basically the whole of her adoptive family. Gods.

It wasn't until she had almost given up hope and finally gone back to reviewing Goblin law reform proposals, that she felt a warm tingle track its way into her stomach to form knots. Her body knew even before she did, and as goosebumps across her skin raised to attention, she watched Ginny Weasley abruptly storm to the front of her desk.

"Ginny." Stunned, no other words came to her well practiced vocabulary. All her breath was stolen in a millisecond, and she felt as though her heart would surely beat its way out of her body any moment. Meanwhile the gorgeous redhead stood in front of her with fists clenched. And if the redhead's face wasn't set so determinedly, the older witch could've sworn the woman planted in her office came off as… what was it almost...frightened?

"Are you going to say yes?" The question came so much without warning, she was shocked there wasn't even a hi or hello. Of course, she knew what the younger Gryffindor was referring to but she just couldn't bring herself to speak. Then that's a definite yes to Ron proposing.

The older witch took a minute to gain some composure, her own quill still in hand, while the impatient Weasley stood before her foot tapping impatiently and arms crossed.
"I don't know." She replied simply, and it was the truth. She couldn't commit or face ether decision, but the younger woman obviously had very different intentions.

"So, in other words you're going to say no?" The woman scoffed back.

"Ginny," she took a second to pause seriously, mounting her quill into its holder in a statement of focus. She knew she was pushing her buttons. Something about redheads always seemed to. "I don't think I'm ready for marriage. That is, I'm definitely not ready." Ginny rolled her eyes, sighing heavily.

"And I'm still getting no from all this. Can you at least get it over with then and tell him no. For the sake of my brother's heart." The audacity of the redhead was starting to get to Hermione. Nine months of nothing, and she thinks she can walk back into her life. Like she hadn't just gone MIA for almost a year. It was like, all Weasleys had this uncanny ability to test her patience. Almost to its limits.

"I'm not going to tell him no. And I'm not going to tell him no because it's just not the right time, but of course I still love your brother." Another eye roll. "I would never hurt him like that." She finished sternly, hoping her tone of voice was enough to get the young Gryffindor to leave it.

"Well you could have fooled me." And that's a no then.

"Gin," the older brunette feeling exasperated huffed loudly, pushing herself slowly up from her desk to stand. "You can't tell me what I should or shouldn't be doing in my love life. I wouldn't dream of hurting your brother, deliberately or otherwise!" She could see the younger woman's nostrils flaring, and as those same eyes narrowed in challenge she anticipated the predictable loss of temper.

"Then why the hell did he spend last night bawling his eyes out on my couch to Harry?!" The brunette didn't have words. Nothing. None at all. She was just trying to catch up mentally. "Tell me why I shouldn't be telling you," she chose the perfect moment to use sarcastic air quotations, "'what you should or shouldn't be doing in your love life', when it affects mine? When I have to listen in on my brother breaking down in the arms of his best mate at three in the morning? Huh?!" She didn't even know about her boyfriend's life anymore. Her best friend. Ron was now hiding things from her, lying to her. He's never lied to me before, about anything.

The older witch needed answers, and she needed them to both calm down. Thinking back to their days together at Hogwarts and hoping to Merlin it would still work, she raised her eyes to meet the brown pair she loved so dearly.

"Tell me what happened," she asked as softly as she could. "Please Gin," and she tried her hardest to stare right through the red head with every fibre of her being. The redhead woman froze in place, and Hermione did her best not to squeal internally from the small victory of still knowing the woman worked.

The younger of the two exhaled in almost defeat, trudging over to the visitor's chair sat directly in front of Hermione's solid desk before flopping herself into it haphazardly. She lent her right elbow in the arm of the chair, squeezing the bridge of her nose momentarily.

"Harry told me yesterday he wanted to get Ron out of the house so to speak," the youngest Weasley began. "Said he could tell that Ron had something to get off his chest. Which with Ron being Ron, means he needs to drink like a Grindylow in heat to open up." That's the 'emotional range of a teaspoon' Ron she knew alright. "They both had a drink or two each at The Leaky, before they ended up back at our place." Hermione had a brief moment of confusion.

"The two of them? There was no one else with them?" The brunette already knew the answer, but needed to hear it.

"No, just the two of them. Why, did he...?" But the other Gryffindor left the question hanging in the air, because she knew just what it meant. From the look of hurt on the other's face she knew. "Oh, Mione'. If I knew he had of I wouldn't have-"

"Its fine Gin, don't worry about it. Just please, tell me what happened," the bookworm pleaded with the quidditch player to continue, voice almost cracking. The redhead nodded subtly.

"So once Harry thought he'd downed enough Firewhiskey, he started asking questions. And then questions led to answers. Answers ended up being…well," the younger witch hesitated.

"Ginny." She reached her hand across the desk to clutch at the others clenched fist, neither of them acknowledging the contact. But from the firm swallow Hermione heard from the other, she knew it was affecting her. "I need to know Gin." Ginny squinted her eyes shut for a moment.

"He knows you're not in love with him." Hermione's heart dropped, and she almost couldn't believe her ears. "I mean, he doesn't know…well, you know," Ginny gave her that look that only ever acknowledged their feelings for a split second. "But he thinks he's making you unhappy somehow. Knows how you've been distant and that things have changed between the two of you." Another heavy sigh left the young witch. "That's why he thought that proposing would be a great idea. Of course, anyone else would know it wouldn't be… bloody git." Hermione felt like she wanted to break down herself, but knew for both their sakes she could not. "He thinks he's doing something wrong."

And there it was. The one sentence that lead to the most guilt ridden, gut churning feeling she'd ever had the misery of experiencing in her life. I'm breaking his fucking heart, and I'm not even realizing it. Granger, what's happened to you?

Jerking her hand out of the other's calm grasp, she held her eyes closed to hold the tears she could feel brimming behind her eyelids. She couldn't do this anymore to them. To either of them. Pulling them in different directions, toying with emotions. This wasn't the person she wanted to be in life. She couldn't be this person, and she'd do anything not to hurt the people closest to her in her life.

"I-I'm so sorry Gin. The last thing I ever wanted to do was hurt anyone," eyes still firmly shut Hermione could only hear the low wail of a chair leg across her office floor. Out of reflex she stood as well, opening her eyes as she did so she continued, a lone tear rolling down her cheek. "I don't know how to do this anymore Gin," the brunette felt utterly defeated. Like she had no options. She felt like she was on the run again, hunting horcruxes. Like she had been driven to dire circumstances but had no other choice than the one that lay ahead of her.

"Mione please," the redhead tried desperately to gain eye contact, knowing how quickly this beautiful woman could jump to all the wrong conclusions. "We'll work this out." No luck, and she found her voice wobbling sorely with emotion. "Hermione, please."

"I'm sorry." It was barely even at whisper level, but the tear streaked face of the redhead heard it as she gasped in utter surprise. There was nothing she could do, watching the woman she loved disappear before her eyes with a sudden pop, and a breathtaking rush of air.