Hermione awoke with a start from another disturbing dream. It was a recurring one where Death Eaters found her parents and tortured them in front of her. This time they made Draco do it. She screamed and screamed for them to stop, recognising even in her dream that Draco was being tortured too. Waking up was a relief, until the hangover hit and then moments later her situation hit too.

"Mornin'. There's tea there for you" Verity said as she sat perched on the end of Hermione's bed with her own cup and the morning paper. "Need a potion?"

Hermione shook her head, half as a test to see how bad the headache was and half because she still preferred to take some paracetamol over swallowing a terrible tasting potion when she was hungover. Verity was a comforting sight . Without her there for context Hermione wouldn't know where she was. Ron and Verity hadn't been living together long and their spare room was still very spare. It had white walls and no personal effects out of boxes to identify it. Apart from letting her know where she was Verity was just generally comforting, a rock of sense and as non-judgemental as the day was long. Her blonde hair was in a pixie cut that made her look like an oversize mischievous fairy and sitting with her legs curled under as she was; Hermione felt like asking her for three wishes. The first would be to turn back time to before she'd made such a dreadful mistake. She took comfort that it didn't seem she'd made it any worse. She was at Ron and Verity's, which meant the night hadn't ended as badly as it could have. She gingerly sipped her tea. It was perfect.

"Accio Paracetamol" she croaked after opening her beaded bag. The pills jumped into her hand and she swallowed them down with the tea. The placebo effect, and probably the tea, immediately made her feel a little less trollish. "How awful was I?"

"Tears, lots of tears" said Verity between tea sips. "You told us how much you loved us and Harry and Gin a lot and you were very insistent that you'd done a terrible, terrible thing and none of us would love you anymore, that sort of drunken nonsense."

Hermione groaned and covered her head with the duvet once more. Maybe if she hid here for the rest of time all of this would go away.

"You weren't too awful at all, not when you've played bouncer at as many Wheezes Christmas Parties as I have" Verity reassured in her matter-of-fact way. "Dean Thomas always tries to snog me, every year, without fail. If you didn't molest anyone you're doin' good as far as I'm concerned."

"Oh God!" said Hermione from under the bedclothes. To Verity it probably sounded like embarrassment but actually it was stomach churning relief that it didn't seem she had molested anyone, namely Malfoy.

"Do you think you could keep down some toast? I have to head to work soon, Angelina and me have Saturday this week cus the Cannons are playing later." Hermione nodded and felt a bit like her head would fall off. "Ok I'll get you some now. You should probably look at this too" Verity handed her The Prophet. "Sorry" she said with a grimace.

Hermione unfolded the paper to see the front page headline

GOLDEN DUO REUNITED! emblazoned above a huge wizarding photo of her crying in Ron's arms.

The Wizarding World can breath a sigh of relief over its pumpkin juice this morning as all is once again right with the world. Patrons of The Leaky Cauldron last night were lucky enough to witness first hand what we have all been waiting for: the reunion of Wizarding Entrepreneur and Decorated War Hero Ron Weasley (24) and Magical Advocate and Decorated War Heroine Hermione Granger (25). Miss Granger sprang into the arms of Mr Weasley in the middle of a crowded dancefloor. The couple were emotional and clearly eager for privacy, apparrating away from the venue just moments after the touching scene unfolded.

The lovebirds have both been romantically involved with others in the recent past. Ron Weasley has been publicly consorting with a staff member at his company while Hermione Granger has been seen with many Wizards-About-Town since the duo split five years ago. It seems clear from our pictures that they have found each other again and we look forward to the patter of little wizarding feet in the near future. Miss Granger, who has been the subject of recent wild rumours that she was conducting a clandestine affair with a certain notorious former Dark Wizard, was wearing her patented casual style mixing Muggle clothing and high street wizarding wear. She teamed an effortlessly elegant, black, sequin-covered, sleeveless boat neck top with wizarding dress trousers and daring wedge heels. The picture shows... (contd pages 2, 5, 6, 11 & 24)

Hermione stopped reading and ran to the bathroom down the hall to be copiously sick in the toilet. The Prophet was a difficult read at the best of times but flowery and inaccurate descriptions of her clothing were too much on a weak stomach. Verity found her sitting on the floor with her back against the bath and her head on her knees.

"I'm so sorry Hermione. We're so boring and settled that I was already in my pjs when Susan sent us the patronus. It was only half bloody ten on a Friday night too. I should have put my flippin' clothes on and gone and got you myself."

"Then we'd be looking at a headline that said 'Granger kidnapped from local nightspot by Weasley's Jealous Lover'. There's no cure for the bloody press" Ron commented, leaning against the bathroom door and looking at the two women with concern. "How's the head Hermione? You still the brightest witch of the age?"

"Don't think so, no" was her muffled reply. "I'm so sorry you two" she said lifting her head and trying not to cover them in tears again.

"Apologising for something that clearly isn't your fault? You channelling Harry this morning or something?" Ron asked while Verity cast a surreptitious teeth cleaning charm on their guest. "I made Mum's pancakes. Even better than toast to cure what ails you. Come on" he said pulling her up by the elbow.

Hermione allowed herself to be shuffled to the kitchen and sat at the table. She had missed Ron's weekend brunches in recent years and there was something reassuringly familiar about the spread on the table. This was better though, nowadays neither of them was likely to throw the milk jug at the wall before the meal was over. She ate and groaned as Verity and Ron read the whole article aloud, in funny voices with scathing commentary. She once again thanked any gods or powers out there that she and Ron had remained friends and that Verity was Verity because life without this seemed an awful prospect at the moment.

She was starting to feel human again as the meal finished. Maybe the world wasn't going to end. She could just continue as she had before, enjoying life enough but not too much, getting worthy things done, not becoming too involved with anyone. Verity shuffled around gathering her things, gave Hermione a hug and Ron a kiss before flooing to the shop. Ron poured them both more tea and looked at her for a long moment.

"Did you notice this?" Ron pointed to the photo on the front page. Just over Ron's shoulder she could see him, his chin dropping and then clamping shut again as the photo looped. Shit.

"Cannons match starts at three so you have my undivided attention till then. How about I beat you at chess while you tell me how you've made such a mess of things with The Ferret?"

Draco hadn't slept but instead had sat by the fire all night, thinking morose thoughts.

It sounded like a set-up for a joke: two colleagues who recently slept together walk into a bar...but he certainly didn't feel like laughing. If he looked up unattainable in the new Wizarding Dictionary he was fairly sure he'd see a picture of Hermione Granger, probably laughing, or possibly that fantastic shot from the front of this morning's Prophet. He'd been wrong to think she was heartless, it turned out she did have one, it was simply fully occupied. In pages and pages of gushing coverage all the mention he got was one dismissive clause in a sentence about her outfit. He supposed that was fairly apt, newspapers didn't do footnotes. That was where he would feature in one of her many biographies he was sure, or in an appendix titled 'People Other than Ron Weasley who were Unfortunate Enough to Fall In Love with Hermione Granger'. There had to be others out there. He couldn't be the only sap could he? Perhaps they could form a support group.

He knew that soon he would have to formulate a real plan, there had to be a way to move on, perhaps he should take an extended holiday and travel to some remote part of the world where no one had heard of her, or him for that matter? He was contemplating the relative merits of Peru and Botswana when Dinko appeared before him with a bottle of Pepper-Up Potion on a silver salver.

"Dinko is thinking you need a potion Master Draco. You is seeming under-the-weather this morning" said the elf pouring the potion into a small oddly shaped glass. Draco presumed it was appropriate for morning potion consumption by some arcane wizarding etiquette only Dinko and his mother knew about anymore. Draco drank obediently. He knew better than to argue with his house-elf.

"Master Draco is dishevelled" said Dinko while pointedly tidying Draco's shoes.

"I don't particularly feel like being shevelled today Dinko. There doesn't seem to be a lot of point as I plan to sit here and wallow."

Dinko actually stopped what he was doing and simply stared at his employer severely for speaking such blasphemy. The elf's eye was then caught by the newspaper in Draco's hand and Dinko's ears flopped forward in sympathy.

"Did Master Draco say something bad about Missis Hermione's hair again?"

"No, not this time Dinko. This time I didn't say anything at all."

"Mistress Narcissa is wishing to see you for afternoon tea Master Draco."

"Oh Gods, did she say she wished to or would like to?"

"Wishing to Master" said Dinko gently.

"Well shit" said Draco with little real passion. They both knew "I wish to" was an order in Narcissa-speak and that shevelled was something Draco would most certainly have to become.

It had taken several moves and a few nicely ambiguous questions for Ron to get Hermione to spill the whole sorry tale. Harry might be the auror but Ron could manage this interrogation on his own, he was better off without Harry, who seemed to have been infected with Foot in Mouth Disease recently. At first Hermione had merely hinted at some snogging but once Ron didn't seem to be thoroughly appalled or ready to hex anyone she opened up more. Ron kept his attention focused on the chess board, freeing Hermione up from any oppressive eye contact while she confessed all. It was a trick he'd learned from his Dad who always managed to get what was bothering you out in the open by tinkering with some Muggle device while you told him about your problems. It worked much better than Molly's focused concern. Hermione told Ron all about her and Draco: how she had refused his repeated requests for a date, how they had argued nearly all the time still and finally how she had awoken after they slept together, realised this was very serious indeed and fled as quickly as her wand could apparrate her. She had landed on her bum beside her own bed with no shoes or underwear. Ron managed to hide his smirk at the mental image of his fearless friend being so totally flustered by anyone.

Basically she'd behaved as if sex with Malfoy was her personal boggart and Ron could easily understand why she'd been on the receiving end of his frostiest cold shoulder since. Now she was over-analysing in her best Hermione manner, tying herself up in knots looking for a more complex explanation of what was clear, obvious and straightforward: Malfoy wanted to go out with her and she'd rejected him pretty strongly, the poor sod. If Ron could tell his 17 year-old self that one day he'd be feeling sorry for Malfoy because Hermione wouldn't admit her feelings for the git he was sure past-him would explode with indignation. He took a sip of tea, moved a chess piece and marvelled a bit at how gloriously unexpected life was sometimes. It looked like Hermione was winding up, better start paying attention.

"I don't know why he did any of it! That's the most frustrating part!" Well if she were truly honest with herself the most frustrating part had been not touching him all the time for the last week but not understanding his motivation was a close second. "I checked him for a love-potion or compulsion spell a couple of days after we first kissed" she said as if that were a normal thing to suspect after a good snog. "It was all negative, he hasn't been bewitched or anything."

Ron raised an eyebrow at her.

"So what is he playing at? There must be something, he was full of how my love-life was distracting him from world domination a few weeks ago and gossiping with you and Harry about my awful taste in men, there is something going on. I should never have let it get anywhere near this far. I can't understand why he would want it to go this far! I knew it was a huge mistake but Ginny persuaded me it would be just a bit of fun and now we are barely able to work together. It's a disaster and it's all my fault because I knew it would end like this!" There were tears in her eyes once again.

"You're missing the really obvious answer Hermione, do you know that? Even Harry could see it" said Ron, patting her hand while he waited for her to make her move.

"How?" she looked genuinely perplexed as one of her pawns was massacred by Ron's rook. "What am I missing?"

"You are really gonna kick yourself. It'll be fun to watch."

There was a long silence. The moves she made during showed that she must be thinking hard, even Hermione wasn't this bad at chess. He'd have to help her out. Ron was well aware that being the last to know you were falling for someone was a pretty humiliating experience.

"Got it yet?"

"Not unless you think he's doing it for a bet or something, no."

"Exactly when did it go wrong Hermione? "

"After we slept together" she said in an unsteady voice "but it was already rocky, we kept arguing, about him asking me out, about his Mum, about the ridiculous elaborate compliments." This last comment was made with a large eye-roll which confused Ron.

"Hang on what compliments?"

"Well he keeps, kept, using lines on me, telling me I'm beautiful and that sort of thing. I told him he needn't but that didn't go well."

"Yeah sounds dreadful, however did you cope?" said Ron with a grin but when he looked up Hermione looked like she wanted to crawl out of her skin with discomfort. "Why shouldn't he say that? It's true."

Hermione's reaction was to make a strangled sort of squealing sound and point at him wordlessly with her mouth open. She nearly upset the chess board.

"What?" they were back to their usual dynamic at least, Hermione had had a revelation and Ron was totally lost.

"You never said that I was beautiful! Not once! Ever!" she was shouting now and her gestures were only going to get bigger. For the sake of the chess set this had to be nipped in the bud.

"That would be because I was a bloody idiot!" Ron shouted.

"What?" she shouted back but Ron could see he'd taken the wind out of her sails.

He wanted to get this right. It was important and he could feel the air charged with a huge potential for him to fuck this up completely. It was like being back in the tent. Deep breath. "This is going to sound like total bollocks but I never said that because I thought you knew." He cast her his best pleading glance, the Wounded Puppy look Gin called it. This was a time for eye-contact.

"It sounds like bollocks because it is bollocks Ron" Hermione hissed.

"It honestly isn't Hermione. You remember what a daft git I was about all this stuff. You're so brilliant and you always knew everything before me. Why would I tell you something you should know from looking in the mirror? You are beautiful. It's hardly advanced arithmancy. If I ever thought about it at all I would've dismissed as being as stupid as you telling me I had red hair or something. I thought telling you things you didn't know was important, like that I loved you or that you are a great cook."

Hermione didn't just have tears in her eyes now, they were running down her face.

"And just to be absolutely clear: you are beautiful and I have always known it, even before I noticed you were a girl." When he got no response Ron stood and pulled her out of her armchair into a bear hug. "Shit, I'm really sorry. I know it's not much consolation but I'm much better at that sort of stuff now. Verity made it very clear that if I wanted to keep her as a girlfriend I'd have to get better at appreciating her."

Never one for prolonged displays of affection (except when tipsy, then she was all sorts of clingy) Hermione wriggled out of his grip and wiped her tears away roughly. Her gaze was still determinedly directed at the carpet.

"Why did you think you weren't beautiful Hermione?" Ron was gentle with his question, he really wanted an answer. "It can't just be because I never said."

Hermione didn't really have a proper answer for him. Her mind flashed through images from school: Draco and the other Slytherins taunting her about her teeth and hair, Lavender and Parvati excluding her from make-up conversations in the dorms, never having a date for Hogsmeade weekends, her parents and friends always praising her brains. There was no one event. She knew she wasn't the sort of girl or woman that men crossed rooms to talk to, maybe that was why she liked it so much when some bloke did chat her up. It hadn't mattered to her if he were a ridiculous prat, some unattractive, deprived part of her ego just loved the fact that he was there at all.

She was quiet for a long time while these thoughts buzzed around her huge brain. Ron wasn't sure if she was just thinking or he was getting the silent treatment. He bloody hated the silent treatment.

"He fancies you Hermione. That's the answer. He fancies you and he wants to go out with you." There, that should shock her into talking.

Hermione made a hilarious snorting sound. "He does not! I'm not his type. He goes out with fluffy-minded, groomed women who say yaah when they mean yes. There is no way his mother would approve of me!"

"Whether she would or not he's asked you out, in public, repeatedly and all you've offered is a few gropes in darkened corners of the Ministry. Then when something more did happen you were out of there faster than a rigged snitch."

"I didn't want to wait around for him to ask me to leave, which he would have. I'm not his type" said Hermione with a determined raised chin, daring Ron to disagree with her.

"My friend Hermione would say something like 'all evidence to the contrary' - we like her even though she says poncy things like that because she's usually right. My mum would say you were talking codswallop. Just think through what you've told me this morning and imagine it's not you and Malfoy. Tell yourself the story with other characters. Let's call them Noel and Doreen."

"Those are awful names! We're calling them...Stephen and... Diane."

Ron grinned to himself. She walked right into that ploy. She was definitely thinking about it now. After a few moments there was a gasp.

"See? Malfoy's not the one who's acting as if they are a few cauldron cakes short of a picnic Hermione. So what are you goin to do about it?"

Narcissa Malfoy's elegantly appointed parlour was easily three times smaller than any room she would have considered suitable for entertaining in the Manor but as with everything else she had used her straightened circumstances to her advantage. It was impossible, even for her son, to know if she ever missed the opulence of her old life. The select few of society's elite who had been invited to this particular parlour always left with the uneasy feeling that their grand ballrooms and expansive grounds were really rather gauche and a little childish. It was no accident that there was a sudden wizarding fashion for intimate card parties, held in small, tasteful rooms.

After a three-robe tussle with his elf Draco Malfoy flooed into the pretty parlour. Dinko had finally allowed him to leave with the top buttons of his robe undone and no argument about a cravat. It was clear the elf was most concerned for Master Draco.

This particular afternoon the parlour's studied informality was replaced by genuine ease: Aunt Andromeda was visiting. His mother was more agitated than she would ever appear in front of non-relatives. Before he had even finished greeting them she began the business of the tea with the exclamation: "Really Draco! I am disappointed."

Draco would have liked to pretend he didn't know what she was talking about but the copy of the Prophet casually left on the only remaining seat meant he couldn't.

"Mother I don't wish to discuss it" he said with what he hoped was sufficient authority. "Good afternoon Andromeda, where is Teddy today?" His aunt's reply was cut off by his mother.

"Don't wish to discuss it? That is a pity. Unfortunately for you there have been too many lunches in which I was forced to discuss Miss Granger, now it's your turn."

"Narcissa, let the boy have some tea, for goodness sake" Andromeda scolded gently, pouring out tea into two very fine cups which then levitated towards mother and son. "Teddy has abandoned us in favour of Shell Cottage. He's thoroughly smitten with Bill and Fleur's eldest, Victoire, he told me last night that he is going to marry her. Apparently he asked her yesterday and she said yes. Not bad for a seven year old."

Draco sipped his tea carefully and tried not to be annoyed that his young cousin's love life was so much more successful than his own. No, he was annoyed because Teddy wasn't here to distract his mother from the terrible conversational possibilities that lay ahead. Damn the little blue-haired bugger.

That was all the respite his mother gave them. "Can you explain this Draco?" she said brandishing the paper.

"Weasleys are very fashionable these days?" he said with an attempt at levity. It failed.

"Having heard nothing at all about her for several lunches I presumed everything between you was going well and now I see this. Are you at least the 'notorious former Dark Wizard'? Do you at least warrant a mention or have we been wasting our time thoroughly"

"To the best of my knowledge I'm the only former Death Eater she's been sleeping with lately but then I didn't know about Weasley so my knowledge doesn't count for much."

"You've slept with her? You've slept with her and this still happened?" Narcissa seemed completely stunned. She was actually silent for nearly a whole minute, when she continued it was almost to herself. "I thought Lucius had dealt with that part of your education. Well really do I have to do everything myself!" She looked at her son with a gentle expression, one he remembered from times when he had bad dreams as a child. "Draco dear, is it possible that you are bad in bed?"

"Narcissa!" Draco could hear his aunt exclaim but it seemed to be very far away. He was desperately hoping that his mother hadn't just said that, maybe he'd had a stroke and was hallucinating, wouldn't that be lovely? This could not be happening.

"You've seen them together Andromeda. They have enough sexual energy to feed a colony of Nargles and yet she's still back in Mr Weasley's arms. I never suspected she was loose or maybe he's a squib between the sheets!" The last part was delivered in a piercing whisper and woke Draco from his denial that this was reality.

"Mother! I was taught that a gentleman doesn't kiss and tell. You may think what you like about my prowess but Granger certainly isn't loose! I refuse to sit here while you speak about her in that manner." Draco rose and moved towards the fireplace.

"So you've realised you are in love with her then?" his mother asked innocently as if they'd been having a perfectly reasonable discussion.

He was the picture of frustration, shoulders slumped and one hand tugging on his hairline. Why couldn't his parents have been bloody Hufflepuffs!

"Yes mother I have." There was no point in leaving now and rejecting whatever twisted advice she had to offer so he sat back down. At least her afternoon tea was always excellent.

"Well that, at least, is some improvement. However did you allow this to happen? I had assumed that when you finally understood the situation things would move forward smoothly. Miss Granger seems like the kind of young woman who would appreciate personal insight."

"I haven't told her. There was no need to add to the humiliation." Andromeda levitated him selection of cakes with a sympathetic look.

"I thought I explained that Gryffindors need things to be explicit Draco."

"They are also biased in favour of actions rather than words mother. I let my actions speak. They were very clear."

"Obviously not clear enough. If her parents were wizarding I could arrange everything with them myself but as it is you will have to take charge. I don't understand this shilly-shallying! If you like one another what on earth could be the problem? This behaviour is not very mature Draco. In my day -"

Here his mother was cut off by a huge guffaw coming from her sister. "Oh Narcissa Malfoy-Black if ever there was a hypocrite you are it! How can you say those things? Never, in the history of either family, has there been a more volatile courtship than yours and Lucius'! It took everything bar a team of strong thestrals to get you up the aisle, not that we could keep you out of each other's beds for more than a couple of nights at a time! It was quite the scandal."

Draco had never seen his mother so effectively silenced. He grinned. This reconciliation between the sisters certainly did have unexpected benefits. Andromeda continued to laugh while his mother looked daggers at her.

"They were notorious Draco, a function didn't go by without a spectacular argument that ended their betrothal. They were always back together within the week. It was quite cruel of them, poor Alexander Nott got his hopes up every time."

"The situation was completely different. Lucius could be very difficult."

"Oh yes, let's blame Lucius while he is in Muggle prison and conveniently unable to defend himself" said Andromeda. She turned her attention to Draco "That article is total nonsense. I know both Hermione and Ron well enough now to know that if they ever get back together everyone they love will disown them. I don't know what happened between you but Ron is not the cause of your estrangement I'd bet. I'd guess things were already bad between you before this happened, am I right? The Hermione I know would have to be fairly upset to need rescuing, which is what this sounds like reading between the lines, she usually saves herself and a few other people for good measure."

Draco's silence was enough of an answer for her. Hermione did usually save herself although sometimes she dragged him with her. She was the only person who'd ever saved him from anything that he didn't resent passionately afterward. It was because, once in a while, she let him get her out of some mess or other. He could rescue a thousand princesses from a hundred dragons and it could never make him feel as successful as when Hermione let him steady her when she tripped. He'd never really thought about it before this stupid thing had started but, if he had to make a list, the fact that Hermione Granger trusted him would be top of his life achievements. Damn. He didn't want to be reminded of her many bloody admirable qualities. Maybe having a sane aunt wasn't such a great idea after all.

When he looked up his mother and his aunt were both watching him closely and he guessed someone had asked a question he'd ignored. Woops. Time to go on the offensive.

"Yes, I'm in love with her. Yes, things were already strained before she threw herself at Weasley but it is not my fault. She bolted. She hasn't spoken to me about anything other than work in over a week. I'd say she'd made her feelings very clear: she doesn't want me. So what words of wisdom do you have now?" That should shut them up, just enough honesty to be painful.

"I'll eat my wand if it's Ron she wants" was Andromeda's comment.

"I think you are still being far too ambiguous. You must be explicit. You must ask for what you want Draco. Isn't a definite 'No' better than wondering? And besides even if you don't require the answer I most certainly do. I have never spent so many months on a scheme just to have it fizzle out. I do not intend to start now Draco."

She could issue all the stern maternal warnings she wanted, she had not raised a fool. It wasn't her career in jeopardy if the situation became worse. It wasn't her heart she was risking. He had just about managed to escape with some dignity and in future years would be able to pass the whole thing off with a philosophical shrug. Draco wouldn't be courting Hermione any further and that was final. As he brooded over his battenburg he didn't notice the conspiring glances passing between the two sisters.

Ron Weasley thought he'd done well, not just this morning but in life in general. He'd survived a war, befriended grief, found a job he loved, been in love twice and managed to keep two of the most high-maintenance friends in the whole world. Life was good and on top of all that he had season tickets to see the Cannons play. One day they would win three matches in a row again and he'd be there.

Even if you narrowed things down to just this morning he'd been bloody brilliant. He'd got Hermione to see the light when no-one else, not even Ginny or Malfoy, had been able to. He'd talked her into going after what she wanted, or at least admitting what she wanted (come on, he wasn't Malcolm the Miraculous). He'd even accidentally set off a long-standing friendship booby-trap and managed to emerge unscathed from the debris of romantic relationships past, he should get another Chocolate Frog card for that one. If there were a NEWT in friendship he'd have an O. Even Hermione agreed.

"You're my best friend but if you tell Harry I'll deny it" she said while hugging him.

"I'm showing him this moment in a pensieve as soon as the match is over."

She laughed and bit her lip. "It all still might go pear-shaped on me."

"Never know if you don't try will ya?" said Ron patting her head.

She straightened her spine and turned picking up a handful of Floo Powder. She was about to whisk herself away when he interrupted.

"Oi Hermione!"

"What is it Ron?" she turned back to him flustered

"Great arse" he said with a grin, disapparating before her jinx could hit him.

When Verity returned to the flat that evening she found a vase in the middle of the kitchen table spilling over with vibrant orange flowers. The parchment beside it read:

To Verity,

You are the most wonderful Cannons supporter-supporter I've ever met.

And in case I don't say it enough you are very, very beautiful.

I love you,

Ron.

Verity smiled as she read it, thinking to herself for the hundredth time how lucky she was to have a boyfriend taught by the Great Hermione Granger.

A/N: I'm so sorry. I'm very very sorry. I know it's a disgraceful time between updates but Ron and Hermione really didn't want to have that conversation. They were truculent and kept wandering off the point and trying to get back together. I had to be very firm with them. In personal news since I last updated I i) was diagnosed with an auto-immune disease (I'll be fine it's very treatable and explains a lot) ii) Got 75% of the way to buying a house after four years of looking iii) had the vendor pull out at the eleventh hour and bruise our hearts. It is just possible that Ron and Hermione were in a conspiracy to stop me posting a really depressing chapter. I made it extra long to make it up to you all.

Thanks so much to all who have reviewed, followed, favourited and read this story, as you can see it is a highpoint in my life at the moment. Thanks, I really mean it.