"So basically now you're screwed?" Jenny asked. Hermione nodded.

"Wow, and I thought Mark and I had it bad," she laughed to herself, and leaned against the wall. She put her hand on Hermione's and smiled. "Well, what are you thinking you'll do?"

Hermione sat against the wall, grasping Jenny's hand. She didn't know yet, and did not want to know yet. She sighed and shrugged.

"Move to the middle of Kansas and start over?" She asked smiling sadly. Jenny put her head on Hermione's shoulder.

"You can't do that," she said. "You'd just be running away from your problems, sooner or later, you will run into him again, and you know what, Anna is his kid, and he needs to know that." Hermione leaned her head against Jenny's and sighed.

"I know…I wish it were that easy, to go up to him and tell him. I don't even know if he's well enough yet for that. Oh well, I guess I should go and try and take the fall at least. The sooner that happens the sooner it'll be over…right?"

Jenny nodded. They still remained in the same place. Jenny sat back up and so did Hermione, and they both shared a knowing glance with each other. As they did, Hermione's phone began to buzz and she groaned and picked it up.

"Hey mom!" She said excitedly. Jenny stared at her, glaringly. "No," said Hermione, "Actually, I just got finished," she grinned. She mouthed out the words 'sorry' to Jenny as she whispered furiously.

"No," she whispered, "You can't get out of telling him, you get your butt back here," she kept saying underneath Hermione's mother's comments.

"Oh? The turkey is getting messed up? You need me to run to the market ASAP? Well I can't ignore you can I? Right…right," said Hermione walking to her locker and pulling out her clothes to change into. Jenny groaned and sat on a bench shooting Hermione several deathly glares. Hermione knew what she was doing was utterly wrong, she just did not like George's new persona. She did not feel comfortable sharing extremely fragile news with him, and she was scared. She had just entered a new and exciting relationship with a very attractive, albeit boring, man, but she just did not want anything messing that up. She knew that getting closer to George would just be a recipe in failure. Plus she had been out of that world for so long, she did not think it would be so easy for her to re-enter. She looked at Jenny who seemed to go directly from angry to bitterly disappoint in her and she shrugged, gesturing that her hands were tied as her mother rattled off a grocery list.

"Actually mom, I don't have a pen," Hermione said. "Could you just text me everything you need?" She asked.

"Honestly Hermione, I don't know where you keep your head these days. But you're done with surgeries and stuff right?"

"Yeah, it got postponed to tomorrow, it's a non-emergent case," she said, grabbing her coat and buttoning it up, checking to make sure her shirt was on the right way and her jeans were all zipped up. As she looked up in the locker room, she noticed that Jenny had left. She groaned and ended the conversation with her mother, not caring if it was an upbeat note or on a downbeat note, at the moment she had one and only one priority, to make sure that Jenny kept her mouth closed about the whole situation, especially to Mark. Hermione sighed and walked out of the locker room and spotted Jenny rearranging charts at the Nurse's station.

"Jenny," she said softly. Jenny looked down at the counter and gripped the edges of it tightly.

"Save it," she said as coolly as she could muster, once more rearranging the pile of charts.

"Jenny," Hermione repeated. Jenny closed her eyes and shook her head.

"No, Mia, you do not get to take the high horse on this," she turned to Hermione and pointed a finger in her direction, "What you did, you did to yourself, and you caused a lot of people to needlessly suffer. Yeah people would have been mad if you had told the truth, but it would not have lasted very long at all," she said. "You dug this hole for yourself, just keep me out of it. You have my silence, but that's only because you were my best friend." Hermione shot her a look of gratitude, but was only met with an ice-cold demeanor.

"Jenny—" She said reaching out.

"Can it Dr. Granger. The reason my marriage failed last year was because my ex-husband lied to me for two years about an affair he had, I would have been mad if he had told me about it first, I mean in his defense, we both got married young. But he lied to me, and he kept me from truly feeling happy. I can't forgive liars, so either you tell him soon, like in the next few days, or you and me…we're over." She said bitterly. She then hmphed and then turned on her heel and walked away. Hermione leaned against the counter and sighed.

She knew what she was doing was unfair, she knew everything that had happened was not at all fair to her or George, and somehow Ron had gotten tangled up in this whole situation. She never meant to hurt anyone, or even change lives for that matter, all she ever wanted to do was to love and somehow be loved in return. She was a child in the matters of love, buried in books; there was only so much she could have learned.

True she read of great romances, Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy, Marianne and Colonel Brandon, Romeo and Juliet, but never had she thought of herself as a protagonist, or someone particularly adept at love. In fact, in these sorts of matters alone she was inept. All of her early adolescent years were spent fighting evil and mothering two boys. She was ready to be a mother, yes, because of how she was treated by Harry and Ron, but a lover? That was always the farthest thing from her mind.

She walked down the steps near the hospital down the familiar turnstiles and waited for the subway that would take her uptown towards her mother's place. She hugged her coat closer to her body and felt empty, numb, and unable to feel, think or act. True she did love George, or she thought he did. She also thought she loved Ron, and at this point, she knew if George somehow rejected Anna, she would be crushed forever.

The subway doors clanged open as the train screeched to a stop. Since it was the holidays, the subways were jam packed with people heading in, people going out, it was almost stifling, but there was no other more convenient form of transportation. Hermione reached into her bag and pulled out her iPod earphones and put them in, pressing play on the little device, turning on her upbeat playlists for times she felt like this.

But sadly, the music did nothing to calm her down, to bring her up from this terrible low. The feeling in her stomach of nervousness was not going to subside and she felt a genuine terror well up in her heart, the ultimate rejection. She feared to tell Ryan the truth of her past indiscretions and she did not want to tell George yet. She did not even know how it would be possible to ease either party into this odd situation. She clutched onto a pole as the train began to rattle and roll towards her stop and closed her eyes as she tried to think of a solution to the extremely deep grave she had dug out for herself.

George lay quietly in the bed, willing it to be Friday so he could finally be discharged. He wanted to walk around again, to get back into the office. The past few days had been nerve wracking. Although he knew that he had racked up plenty of vacation time, he also knew that as the next ruler of his empire, the company could not bear a one-week vacation from one of the top executives.

"Weasley!" A voice exclaimed walking in. George felt much calmer as he saw his boss walk into the room, finally he did not have to live inside his own head.

"Hey Adam," he said as the powerful CEO walked into the room.

"You look awful, you miserable son of a bitch," he said sitting down in a chair by the bed. George rolled his eyes.

"Not as terrible as you do," he said with a hearty fake laugh. Adam guffawed.

"Funny guy," he said. "Anyways, just wanted to check up on you, and let you know not to bother coming back until December 14, your clients have all agreed to wait and we all know how dedicated to the job you are."

"But—" George protested.

"Nonsense," Adam said putting his hand up, "Don't kill yourself, you need rest and relaxation, and I know working for a toy company may seem restful and relaxing, but really, you need to sleep. You haven't been sick a single day in the past 10 years, you might as well take a few weeks off," he said with a grin. George nodded softly.

"And you'll be—"

"I'll be fine!" Adam exclaimed. "Now rest up, go to sleep, watch bad TV, I don't care, just no work for the next two and a half weeks." He leaned back in the chair and placed his hands behind his head. To everyone else, he was a ruthless corporate boss, but for some reason, he had taken a liking to George.

Adam was born in a small rural suburb in Kansas, a town filled with small-minded people he never quite fit in with. His classmates all looked forward to when they could quit school to help their parents with their farms, whereas he grew up with an extremely tough work ethic, and a creative mind.

The day he received his letter from the Salem Institute, he was relieved, not only could he move to Massachusetts to be amongst like-minded individuals, he had a better future than the one sadly deferred to him by his situation, being from a farming family. He excelled in school and then after he left, he began to take business classes in the muggle world, and the wizarding world, taking over corporations finally until he had received word that April Fools was hiring and looking for a new manager to head up their consulting department.

He became a shark in the true definition of the word, not even considering marrying until the right woman showed up, a young British witch from Hogwarts, Lavender Brown. Although he was around 10 years older than her, the age difference did not bother her at all, in fact, it only turned her on more. You see, she was interested in two things, nice things, and rich men. Adam Richards fulfilled both of those for her, and she never looked back on her life in England and stepped forward into the tiresome work of trophy wife.

In fact, it was her that suggested that Adam take a look at Weasley Wizarding Wheezes so that he could branch forward into England. After all, if he wanted to strike, since the economy of the Wizarding world was hit pretty harshly after the war, it was soon, and he struck, intending to swallow them whole. Instead, he took a liking to the young Weasley boy. George seemed eager to throw himself completely into the company since day one.

Fully intending to fire him after the merger, Adam changed his mind once he saw George's near-delirious work ethic. and decided to mold George into his protégé, and that he became. He helped sponsor classes in management and business for George to take, and pretty soon, he considered the younger man closer to a son than an employee. He was convinced that an early retirement would be perfect for him, and then he could finally settle down and spend time with his distant family, and there was absolutely no way he could ever replace himself with anyone whom he felt more comfortable and secure with.

Lavender Richards nee Brown, on the other hand, was purely in her marriage for the designer labels and the handsome older man. She had no career, and no intention of finding one for that matter, so when news of her husband's early retirement reached her doorstep, she panicked. When she panicked, she shopped, and so on Thanksgiving day, she found herself scouring New York for stores that were open, and clothes that would help her fill her emptiness. She was trying to hail a cab in the evening after her shopping spree had only bought half of Manhattan when she bumped into a familiar face, racing to try and get home on time.

"Hermione?" She asked, barely recognizing the woman dressed in muggle clothes. Hermione squinted a little and cocked her head, barely recognizing this woman, yet knowing she was a part of her past.

"Yes?" She said, opening her mouth, and then closing it, and then opening her mouth and then resolving to close it again.

"It's me! Lavender Richards, well actually you know me as Lavender Brown." Lavender exclaimed, "We were in Hogwart's together. I don't blame you for not recognizing me, I've had some work done recently, slight blemishes you know." Hermione's eyes widened.

"Oh of course! Lavender," she exclaimed, about twenty times more enthusiastic than she felt. Lavender looked good, she had dyed her hair from brown to blonde, was skinny as ever and wore only the latest labels.

"Well look—" Hermione began, "I would absolutely love to stay and chat—but I really, have to go, have to do some leftover shopping for Thanksgiving and then I have dinner to cook, but really, we should have lunch." She said beginning to hurry away. Lavender was left on the streets feeling peculiar.

"Yes!" She said, "Send me an owl!" She exclaimed, biting her lips as she was sure her last words went away unheard. But Hermione was acting rather odd, and instead of popping by into the local floo point, she seemed to be heading down the stairs into the dingy subway. She shrugged, and then reminded herself to ask Adam about her particular peculiarities as soon as she got home. As soon as she turned around, however, she saw a delightful pair of designer shoes, she was sure that she needed to have.

Hermione stepped into the Subway and the one moment she had to stand for herself, she groaned. Why was all of this happening to her now? She had gotten through ten years of not seeing anyone from Hogwarts, and now it was like a bloody school reunion happening over a matter of weeks. She knew she was running out of time, and now she had to tell Anna and George the truth. It was only a matter of time before George would find out and only a matter of time before Anna would hate her and then begin to rebel, and then would move out, join a strip club, go downwards and spiral into depression, go into hard drugs (muggle and wizard), hit rock bottom, find a charming man when she was trying to work for drugs, be sent to rehabilitation, finally make a name for herself, write a bestseller and point all the blame to—

"Hermione," Her mother said later on as they began to set the table for dinner and Hermione shared her slightly irrational fears, "You're overreacting just slightly."

"Don't you think I know that mother?" Hermione asked. Her mother sighed and walked over to Hermione, brushing dust off of the mahogany dining table as she did. She placed a comforting hand on Hermione's shoulder and kissed her daughter's forehead.

"I know you do, but do you know that?" She asked. Hermione shrugged and sat down on the chair, she put her head in her hands.

"None of this was supposed to happen," she wailed. Jane sat down across from her and put both her hands on Hermione's knees and stared straight into Hermione's eyes.

"Well you know what pumpkin? They did." She said firmly, "And you can be a four year old and continue to run away from all of your problems, or you can face your worst fears and own up to the past years." Hermione stared down at the corner of the rug under the dining table. "What's the worst that can happen?" She asked.

"He could leave, and abandon us," said Hermione despondently.

"How is that any different from anything going on right now? You're alone, and without closure, at least by admitting the truth, you'll get closure," she said kindly setting the plates. The TV could be heard in the background as the claymation version of Rudolph the Red Nosed reindeer could be heard, and Anna sitting with her grandfather in the living room making fun of the cheesy dialogue and plot. Hermione finished checking the table, and then walked to the doorframe and looked into the expansive living room where Anna was leaning on her father and they both did not seem like they could be having any more fun.

Hermione imagined George sitting there making fun of this with the three of them, Molly fussing around in the kitchen making sure everything would be alright and Arthur sitting in awe in the armchair beside the couch, staring at the little black box full of colors. Yes, Hermione could picture the idyllic scene, but would she actually ever make it happen? Would she let it go further than just a daydream?

O0o0o0o0o0o00o0o0o0o0o000o0

"What are we doing?" George asked one day as they lay in her bed. This weekend they did not go away to the lake, but rather stayed at her flat. It was not the first time they had done this, but it had been the first night he had spent the night.

"You're really asking?" Hermione asked as she sat up to put on her shirt and skirt. She went over to the mirror and began to fix her hair. She arranged the curls, and then rearranged them. She then tested the final product with a hair band and then, took the hair band off. She decided she liked it better off and then began to play around with various shades of lipstick. Upon deciding which shade would match her look, she stood up and headed to the bathroom.

"Ron coming home today?" George asked standing up out of bed, and then leaning back to crack his back. Hermione nodded.

"He got the weekend off, so I figured, why not spend some time. And with Ginny away at school, it can be the three of us again." She smiled as George's arms snaked around her waist and she felt his lips caress her neck.

"Ooh stop," she cooed, "Or else I will never get ready. Plus Ron should be at the Burrow by now and Molly's having us over for lunch," She said moving his arms away and heading over to her closet, searching through appropriate clothes to wear. George stared down at the floor, staring at his feet. Suddenly an idea came to mind.

"How bout I come to lunch with you? Mum hasn't seen me in forever, and we could just say that we were working in the morning." He said. "After all, if we're opening during Winterval, then, we probably should be getting the store and all of our affairs in order." He said highlighting the word affairs. Hermione smiled.

"That's not a terrible idea. Plus it'd do Molly some good to see you up and about every once in a while."

"Very well, I will just floo home and then I will see you later today." He said beginning to walk out as Hermione stopped him.

"Wait, are you sure it won't be awkward?" She asked. He cocked his head.

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"With Ron—and me—and you, all, well together," she stated. She could see George's face turn into a grimace, and then an oddly forced smile.

"Oh, are you two still…?" He asked, trying to sound casual, but messing it up badly in the process.

"I don't know," said Hermione honestly, biting her lip at the same time.

"You don't know?" George repeated slowly, trying to grasp the situation.

"It's complicated." Hermione admitted.

"It's complicated?" George echoed.

"Are you a parrot?" Hermione asked turning to him, obviously irritated. George sat on the bed, putting his trousers back on, and then he proceeded to slowly put his undershirt on over his head. He was buttoning his shirt up when he cleared his throat. Hermione stared at him, waiting for him to say something.

"Then I'm going to ask again," he said slowly, "What are we doing?" He asked, the dreaded question coming up again.

"I don't know," Hermione said honestly. George let out an exasperated sigh.

"Hermione," he said softly, but dangerously.

"George," she said. "I-I really just—"

"Don't know?" George finished angrily. "Can you please say something else?" He asked. Hermione shook her head.

"No, I can't," she stated. She walked over to the bed and sat down beside George, wrapping her small silk robe tighter around herself. "I was basically with him for seven years, and up until a few months ago, I couldn't imagine myself living without him, so please forgive me if it takes me a little while to try and sort out my feelings." George turned and stared at her, anger apparent in his eyes, tears forming in hers.

"Please," she repeated, almost pathetically. George shook his head, buttoned up his shirt and left the room silently, leaving Hermione in tears, confused about the past few months and what it meant for both of them. As she sat there, nervous about seeing Ron again, she felt sick to her stomach. Nausea started to come and she felt her dinner bubbling up inside of her. She attributed this sick spell to the sheer stress of two wonderful men who had cared for her. She did not know which one to pick, while one offered her passion and romance, the other provided stability and a future. She knew that she could grow passionate for Ronald, and yet from the way George reacted, perhaps there was a future with him after all. Unfortunately the vomit impulse had taken over, and she did not have time to contemplate her situation, as her stomach took over, and she ran to the bathroom.

After she had cleaned up after herself, she put her clothes together, and wore a simple tasteful skirt and a nice blouse and headed over to the Burrow. Much to her dismay, George was sitting at the breakfast table along with Harry. Ron was nowhere to be seen at the moment, but she was sure he was somewhere there. She sighed and took several deep breaths and entered the kitchen.

George refused to look at her, but still maintained a relatively cheery disposition as his mother fussed about him. She had gotten to know George enough to know that he was definitely faking his happiness, and sensed deep anger bubbling up. But he animatedly talked to Harry about new developments in the shop, and as Hermione was about to walk over to the two men, she felt herself being lifted up and twirled around. A pair of arms twisted her about, and she found herself looking into Ron's eyes. She cursed herself as he kissed her enthusiastically knowing that this was not easy for George to bear. She returned the kiss with equal enthusiasm and then broke apart as quickly as possible, without alerting anyone to any sort of suspicion.

"You look amazing," Ron said, moving a lock of her hair to behind her ear.

"Well what about you, Mr. Bicep," Hermione said poking his arm. Ron smiled sheepishly. "You look good too." She said smiling.

"Mum, can we have breakfast before I gag?" George asked jokingly. He gave a jovial laugh and stood up and walked over to Ron. He gave his younger brother a strong pat on the back and then went back to his table.

"Very well," said Molly, "But Arthur will be home soon, and I'm sure he would love to join so if you would wait." She said raising an eyebrow at George. George groaned playfully and sat back down, giving Hermione a pointed look as he did.

The wait for Arthur was excruciatingly awkward, George shot Hermione glares when no one else was looking, and this just drove Hermione to seek even greater comfort from Ron who was eager to give it, although confused by her sudden desire for public displays of affection. After Arthur had arrived, they all ate lunch in comfortable silence when Molly spoke up.

"So Harry, Ron, I hear you have some good news for us?" She asked. Harry nodded.

"Yeah, we got a few weeks off from training, so we'll be here, and then we'll go back for a week, take our exams, pass, and then become part of the Auror elite." He said excitedly. Hermione felt her stomach lurch; Ron staying was not what she had in mind. Although it was a pleasant surprise, it was definitely not what she had in mind and she began to feel ill once more. Able to prevent it, she quickly uttered a charm to calm her insides. George noticed her sudden change from cooing to sick, and cast a concerned eye to her quickly, and then suddenly replaced it with an air of indifference.

"Well brother," he said, "I for one am ecstatic that you are back for a while, Hermione has been getting awfully lonely," he said. Ron cocked his head to the side. "I think we should have a party for you two next weekend, there's a lovely banquet hall in Hogsmeade, that way Ginny can join us and we can just have a marvelous Weasley Family affair." He smiled. Hermione furrowed her eyebrows.

"Can we bring dates?" Ron asked, putting his hand on Hermione's leg.

"Of course you can," Molly said, "What a silly question. And regardless, Hermione is a member of the family. George I think that's a wonderful idea." She said.

"Do you have anyone to bring?" Harry asked George.

"Well I'm kind of seeing this one witch, but I think she has an event, she'll have to choose which one to go to." Said George.

"Well maybe you're just making it hard for her and not giving her enough time to pick. After all, next weekend is sort of a last minute thing, and if she's been committed to the other event long enough, then she can't just let everyone down that easily." She exclaimed. All heads at the table turned to her. George stared at her rather angrily and stood up and walked out of the room.

"Blimey," said Ron. Hermione fought every urge to go after him, and then when she had just rationalized herself out of chasing him upstairs, Ron turned to her.

"I think I'd better go and check up on him." He said. Hermione nodded, hoping and praying that George did not say anything she'd later regret.

George sat upstairs throwing a quaffle up in the air and then catching it when Ron entered the room.

"You okay mate?" Ron asked. George sighed.

"Am I ever?" He asked. Ron sat down beside him and leaned against the bed.

"What was that?" Ron asked. "If you don't mind me asking. Are you and Hermione fighting?"

"In a sense, we've just had some disagreements about the store recently. I gave her an office for the time being and she can't choose between two colors."

"This is over a color palate?" Ron asked, flummoxed. George shrugged.

"That and we've been working in close quarters for so long, I think this was just the last straw. But she has between two colors at this point, and she's painted the office this dark shade of red. But she also likes the bright playful orange, and has been playing with that for a bit, but now she has to choose between the two of them, and I can't afford to repaint it again if she decides she doesn't want the orange, so I'm forcing her to pick, and its hard." He said. Ron was confused.

"You're barmy," He said.

"I suppose I am," George laughed patting Ron on the back. Although he was never one to admit it, it was difficult for him to hate Ron for any extended period of time.

0o0o00o0o0o0o0o0o00o0o0o

"So, since you're healing up really well after your surgeries, I don't see any reason why you should stay here past tomorrow." The nurse told George as she checked up on him and he did a small walking lap around the room. George painfully sat back down on the bed as she reattached leads and the vitals monitor.

"I'd even send you home today but Dr. Fischer wants to keep you another night to make sure that nothing slides out of place, and then she can just take out your stitches tomorrow, since it should have all healed by now." The nurse continued to chatter away as George began to drown her out, going back to his happy place. He thought of the lake, and the small abandoned cottage.

He used the cottage to think after Hermione's disappearance. Although he never entered out of respect, the lake was a good place to collect his thoughts, and ever since he had pretty much moved to the States, he would just think about the calm waters and the birds chirping and the fields of daffodils.

As he thought of the beauty and the nature, he drifted off into another night of dreamless slumber.

(A/N) I AM SOOOOO sorry it took me THIS long to update :-(

My life has been sooo hectic and busy and finals were tough and then my computer had to be sent back to the store, and then I lost the chapter because my computer had to be fixed, but long story short, (no pun intended), here's the next chapter in the saga. The flashbacks are almost finished, and then it'll be a few chapters set in the present-ish, and then an epilogue and then the end! : ) Thanks for reading, please review, and you will never wait this long for a chapter again.

In fact, I know what I'm going to write next, so if I get over 10 reviews, I'll have the next chapter up by Monday!