Hello Everyone, I just wanted to take this chance and apologize to all of you who I haven't been able to reach yet. As I'm sure you are all aware it has been an insanely long time since I last updated. The only excuse I have is that I was insanely busy and then I was traveling. The last time I posted was right before the end of term at which time I was working like a mad woman trying to get all my work in before I left for Easter Holidays at which point I was traveling with one of my best friends. We were jumping around quiet a bit and most of the places that we stayed didn't have computers let alone internet access and if they did have it it was so expensive that I couldn't afford to use it. But I won't bore you with money problems. Okay, so here is the next chapter. I hope you all like it and I will try my very best to get the next chapter posted as soon as possible. I feel I must warn you though, seeing as I am to return home in four weeks I have a lot of school work that I am going to have to finish sooner then I expected because my teachers want to be able to return my work to me before I leave. So I guess there you have it. I'll try my best but I can't make any promises. I hope you all is going well for you. It's honestly been far too long. Well, Happy Reading, Noterwomann

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Chapter Seventeen: Falling Apart

She knew she was alone even before she was fully awake. She felt dwarfed, completely alone in Ron's massive bed. Hermione rolled over so that she faced Ron's side of the bed. Heart heavy, she reached out and let her fingers trace the dent in his pillow. It was cold. She closed her eyes as the first hint of tears gathered behind her lids. Her fingers curled around the soft fabric and pulled it to her body. She hid her face in the pillow's softness and tried to block out the terrible thoughts that plagued her in her waking hours.

Lifting her head so she could see over the sill of his bedroom window she saw the moon was still hanging high in the sky. He couldn't have had more than a few hours of sleep. Lifting the covers she swung her legs over the side of the bed, groped around the floor for Ron's shirt, slid her hands into the sleeves and buttoned it before rising to her feet. Pulling her long hair out of the collar she strode to the door. Her steps were strong and purposeful. It didn't of course take a genius to deduce where he had gone. It was the same place he went every night when he woke.

Hermione slowly eased open the door to Blake's room. Ron sat on the floor in the corner closest to the door, knees raised, head leaning back against the wall, a warn photograph clutched in his hand. Hermione threw a wistful glance to the rocker sitting in the corner. If he insisted on keeping vigil in Blake's room the least he could do was make himself comfortable. But she knew he wouldn't. She had made the mistake of asking him the first night she woke to find him missing why he sat on the floor when there was a more comfortable chair in the room. He had stared at her blankly for a moment before looking away. "Not without Blake." He said stiffly, putting a firm end to her questioning.

She realized now she should have seen the change coming. The arrival of Blake's rocking chair had been the catalyst of his mood change. She had been with him, downstairs, researching when they detected a disturbance in the wards. She had later learned that Ron had ordered the rocking chair the same day he had purchased Blake's cot, but the nursery store had been out of ready stock. As fate would have it the chair would arrive just two days after the Ministry had taken custody of her.

Hermione could still picture the cold mask of horror that had flashed momentarily across Ron's face at the sight of the chair. After several moments of uncertainty when Hermione didn't know how he was going to respond, Ron stiffened his chin in resolve, carried the chair up the stairs, placed it in the corner and firmly closed the door. That had been the beginning. The start of Ron's decline. Little by little every day she watched as Ron retreated, pulling further and further away from her and escaping into himself, helpless to do anything but watch.

"Ron?" She said tentatively, stepping into the room. "Ron," she extended her hand, "Come back to bed."

For a moment she thought either he had hadn't heard her or that he was going to ignore her. He had given no indication he was aware of her presences until she heard him murmur. "I'm not tired."

Hermione frowned down at him. Even without the aid of light she could see the bags under his eyes that suggested otherwise. "Ron," she crouched down so she was closer to his level. "You won't do her any good if you work yourself into an early grave."

Ron turned his head slowly to stare at her. "Go back to sleep. I'll join you in a while."

Hermione's frown deepened. He said that every night when she came to fetch him, but he never came. "No." She said after a few minutes of silently staring at him. "I'm afraid that's not going to work for me." She lowered herself onto the floor next to him. "You see, I'm afraid I've grown quite selfish. I can't sleep without you in bed beside me. Ron," she placed her hand lightly on his shoulder. "Ron, please."

Seeing the heavy glisten in her eyes Ron reached up and cupped her cheek tenderly. "I'm sorry Mione." He looked away from her as he let his hand drop. "I just…" he swallowed past a large lump in his throat. "Merlin I miss her." He closed his eyes as he let his head fall painfully against the wall. "Maybe," she watched his throat work to swallow past his Adam's apple. "Maybe it would be best if you went back to Harry and Ginny's." He diverted his eyes so he wouldn't be forced to look at her.

Hermione's heart tightened painfully in her chest. She sat back on her heals. "Do…do you want me to go back to Harry and Ginny's?"

Eyes flying open at the anguish he heard in her voice Ron turned his own wet eyes on hers. "No," He extended his hand, waiting until she took it before pulling her into his lap and wrapping his arms almost painfully around her. "No. I swear. That's the last thing I want."

"Then why?"

His long fingers ran lovingly through the dark strands of her hair. "Hermione," His mouth worked for several minutes unable to find the right words. "I'm no good for you like this, Mione."

"What nonsense." She forced herself to say.

"It isn't. Hermione," he turned his face away shamefully. "I want to give you and…and…and us my all." He shook his head defeated, "But I can't stop thinking about her. I can't stop worrying that something happened. I haven't even been allowed to see her. Who knows what kind of…of family they put her with. What if they're hurting her, Mione? What if…"

"Stop it." She said fiercely, clasping his face between her hands and forcing him to look at her. "She's fine."

"Have you seen her?"

"No, you know I haven't."

"Then how do you know? You can't know. They could have put her with a family worse than the Amadeuss"

"Stop it!" Hermione bit down painfully on her lip to keep from shouting at him. She lowered her eyes as she took a harsh breath. "Just stop it, Ron. You can't keep doing this to yourself. You'll go mad."

"But…"

"No." She cut him off again. "I refuse to believe the Ministry would give her to anyone who might harm her. It hasn't happened and it's not going to."

Lowering his head so Hermione couldn't see his eyes, she got the distinct impression that Ron didn't quite believe her. "You should go back to bed." He mumbled after several silent minutes.

Instead of rising to her feet Hermione remained where she was and stroked his hair soothingly for several minutes. "I'd like to stay here with you. That is if you don't mind."

"I don't want you to be tired for work in the morning."

Ignoring his objection Hermione repositioned herself on his lap and tucked her head into the crook of his shoulder. "I already told you, I can't sleep without you beside me. I'm awake now. So it's either you came back to bed with me or I'm awake anyway. And if I must be awake I would rather be with you."

Instead of protesting further like Hermione half expected, Ron tightened his hold on her drawing her even closer to his body. She closed her eyes and nestled into his warmth, breathing in his sent and trying to let it calm her as it once had. He still smelled the same, like chocolate, soap and something that was distinctly him, but it didn't have the same affect on her senses. She was still wound tighter then a spring.

Opening her eyes she stared blankly at the wall. As little as a week ago being folded into his arms like this would have had her feeling warm and protected, completely safe from the ugliness of the outside world. How she longed for those few happier days. She curled into a tighter ball in an attempt to ward away the hollow feeling of his arms. Something ate are her insides, a painful reminder of how much of Ron's happiness lay in her hands. The thought of failing him terrified her. The fear of it kept her awake at night almost as much as being without Blake did him.

"Are you sleeping?"

"No." She whispered, her voice muffled by his robes. "Are you?"

Ron snorted humorlessly. "Obviously not."

"Ron," She tilted her chin up so that she could look at him. She wanted to beg him to let her back in. To love her the way he had those first few days they had been together, but the words caught in her throat. She didn't want to burden him with her insecurities, for surely that was what was bothering her now. But she couldn't help how she felt. She felt like something was cleaving the connection between them. Something was stopping Ron from coming to her, something other than the absence of Blake. She hated to think it, the implication was enough to reduce her to tears, but it almost felt like he didn't trust her. Like he expected her to hurt him again. Fail him in some way.

She didn't know what it was. Perhaps it was something in the way he looked at her when he thought she wasn't looking. Or the fact that he rarely talked to her anymore unless she asked him specific questions about the case. Or maybe it was the fact that he had stopped asking her if they could at least tell his mum they were together, a topic he had pursued with annoying persistency three weeks ago. She feared it meant he didn't want his mum to know because he didn't hold much hope of them staying together.

Her arms tightened around him as she squeezed her eyes tight in an attempt to block out the world. In her head she kept reminding herself that her fears were only her insecurities getting the best of her. Ron was just sad. It didn't mean that he loved her or trusted her any less. He was just so consumed with his worry for Blake that she was being…what? Neglected? Forgotten? Shunted aside? As wretched as it made her feel to admit it, a part of her wished that she and Ron had taken longer to work things out. A part of her, which she loathed, wished they could have waited until this whole mess with Blake was over. Life would be so much simpler. And hadn't they suffered enough already? How much more was going to be amassed on top of them before things would settle down and they would finally be allowed to live their lives without fear and disruption?

She clung to Ron tighter. Monday couldn't come soon enough. After Monday the hearing will have begun and she would be back on ground she understood. All her weeks of research, referencing, organizing, interviewing and worry would be over and she could present her findings in logical, concrete arguments that could not be possibly ignored or faulted by any Ministry official. Come Monday life might have a chance at returning to normal.

Deciding to try and follow her own advise and get some well needed sleep she forced her body to relax and steadied her breath. Mimicking her earlier thoughts she told herself she would be no good to Ron and Blake is she worked herself into an early grave.

&

Harry slowly carved into his roast as he tried his best not to stare down at the other end of the table where his two best friends were seated, several chairs apart, seemingly oblivious to one another. Where normally this might have been almost comical to him, tonight it only made his stomach churn. While Mrs Weasley was hovering over Ron trying her best to keep him happy, comfortable and talking, she only succeeded in making him more miserable, while Hermione was trying her upmost to stop herself from starring, a feat she was failing miserably. What was worse, she looked even more depressed and tired then Ron.

Tough neither of them said anything it was becoming increasingly apparently that something was amiss between the two. For anyone else in the family the indifference and tension between them would not seem out of the ordinary. They of course were not aware that Ron and Hermione had reconciled their problems. But for him and Ginny, who had been there to witness the few short days of bliss at the beginning or their relationship, the sudden change was nothing short of alarming. Neither of them had seen it coming.

For the first few days after Blake had been taken, excluding that first horrible night, it looked like Ron would be alright. It appeared that Hermione's returned presences in his life would be enough to keep him optimistic and focused. But then things had started to change. Slowly at first. The smile that had been all but plastered on Ron's face when he and Hermione were alone together had all but disappeared again in the proceeding weeks. He was becoming more restless as each day turned into the next and only managed to cease his aimless pacing when helping Hermione with her research. He threw himself into Blake's case with the same single-mindedness that Hermione had applied to her work in their school days. And most nights, Hermione confided, Ron spent either pacing or sitting on the floor of Blake's room.

Having made Ron's home the base camp for their research down outside office hours, Hermione had all but moved in with Ron since the night the Weasley siblings had labeled 'the event' had taken place. At first he had thought it was a splendid idea. The pair seemed to meld their lives so effortlessly together. It was the little things he noticed, things that would not be readily discerned by anyone who didn't know his two friends as well as he did.

Ron had become almost surprisingly neat when he moved into his own house. Where he couldn't bother to keep things tidy at Hogwarts or the Burrow he was able to when the building he was living in was his own. Harry knew it was done out of a sense of accomplishment and pride. He didn't want anyone thinking poorly of him because of the state of his home. So it wasn't that he wasn't neat, it was just that now Hermione was spending more time at his house there was more of a sense of organization.

Harry had walked into Ron's study one day to retrieve a file Hermione had left there, he and Ginny had brought the children over and were helping research for the hearing, and had been almost surprised to find that the few books Ron did own were now organized by subject and author and were joined by several large, thick tomes that were undoubtedly Hermione's.

This subtle change had taken place in different parts of the house as well. Vases of flowers sat in the middle of tables. Candles appeared on different surfaces and a few of her personal affects were mixed in with his. Shoes in the front hall closet, cloaks hanging on pegs just inside the doors, the scent of her perfume lingering in the house.

He knew Hermione would have moved in all together immediately if Ron asked her. That was one of the things that amused him most about her. When she made a decision she carried it through to the very end with little hesitation. Her relationship with Ron would have been no exception.

Now he was decidedly glad they hadn't. While he had always believed, though he had been reluctant to admit it for many years, that Ron and Hermione were perfect for each other, he wasn't certain the moment was right for them anymore.

Harry shook his head sadly as he freed a chunk from the rest of his roast and passed it between his lips. It wasn't only Ron's home life that was suffering under Blake's absences. Parker told him that Ron had become a completely different person at work. He was unusually short with his squad, snapping at his teammates for things that in the past would have made him laugh. He reprimanded them in front of their piers, something he never would have done in the past, and tore into them for the smallest infractions, including stopping their work to chat with other teammates. While Parker assured him that the rest of the team understood and didn't hold his surliness against him for now, he wasn't certain how much longer they would go on being forgiving. This was a side of Ron that Harry hadn't seen in years and so was at a loss of how to handle his behavior with the Ron he now was. He wasn't the same teenage boy that he had been the last time.

And what was more, in all the time that he had known the tall redhead, he had been the one to keep everyone lighthearted when things became too serious. It was Ron's humor that had kept him sane for most of his school years and most especially during the Horcrux search. He had always been so resilient that to see him turning in on himself and pushing everyone, especially Hermione, away like this was heartbreaking.

"What's the matter Ronnie?" Harry turned his head at the sound of Molly's voice. "Is there something wrong with the roast?"

"No Mum," Ron sighed heavily as he pushed a few peas around his plate. "It's fine. I'm just not hungry."

"Ronnie…"

"Mum," he said sharply, "don't."

"But Ron, I'm worried about you."

"Mum," he snapped. "Leave it. I don't want to talk about her."

"But…" Ron turned his cold eyes on his mother stopping the words in the back of her throat. For a moment it looked like she would persist but must have decided better as closed her mouth and leaned closer, placing her hand comfortingly on top of his. "Alright love." She patted it tenderly. "Alright."

Hermione frowned as she lowered her head. She shouldn't have been surprised Molly had noticed her son's lack of apatite. But of course where Molly was concerned it didn't matter how much food you shoveled down your throat she was never satisfied you ate enough. But this time where Ron was concerned she was spot on. He was still eating of course, a non-eating Ron could only be a dead Ron, but it was not with the same gusto and passion as before. Having spent almost every night of the last three weeks with him she of course knew what his evening eating habits were. While he made absolutely delicious dinners for her to eat, he never managed to swallow much more than a few mouthfuls. Even the nights that they had dinner with Harry and Ginny his sister hadn't been able to make him swallow more than a few bites.

She knew Harry and the Wesaleys thought Ron was responding simply to the loss of Blake, but today while she was at work she finally realized it was much more than that. She was sitting at her desk, trying to focus on Blake's case but was unable to pull her mind away from her troubles with Ron. She had been trying to reconcile the Ron she remembered with the Ron she now knew and the truth had finally come to her.

The reason why Ron was suffering from such an overwhelming lack of confidence was because he had built up such high expectations and faith in the Ministry. The Ministry in which he had spent the entirety of his grown life helping to rebuild and reestablish within the magical community. And it had let him down. The establishment wasn't perfect, Ron knew that as well as anyone, but he had been proud of the changes he had helped bring about and so saw the treatment of the Ministry towards him and his case now as a sort of betrayal. That perceived disloyalty was eating at him inside just as Harry's perceived disloyalty had in fourth year. His entire world was crumbling around him and Hermione was helpless to do anything but try and keep all the pieces together.

She did what she could, though her efforts felt insignificant at best. All of her other cases had been put on hold until after Blake's hearing. She spent nearly all her waking hours putting together their case, and the few hours she didn't spend on the case she spent trying her best to comfort Ron, another thing she knew as she looked over at him, she was failing horribly. She could feel the muscles around her heart pulling tighter the longer she watched him.

"Hermione, dear." Molly who seemed to have abandoned her attempts to cheer Ron for the moment focused her attention on Hermione. She was watching her and Ron closely. Hermione could see her eyes skipping back and forth between the two of them every so often. Though Molly was trying hard to suppress it Hermione could see the glimmer of hope in her eyes every time she looked at her. Hermione knew that Molly hoped she and Ron working so closely together on Blake's case would lead to reconciliation between them. "Are you ready for the hearing on Monday?" She asked, her eyes finally settling firmly on the younger girl.

Hermione quickly chewed and swallowed the potato she had crammed in her mouth. "Yes. Mrs Weasley. There isn't really much more I can do before the trial. But I'm confident we'll come out the victors in this."

"You see Ronnie." Molly's hand tightened on Ron's. "You needn't worry. You'll have Blake back in no time. Hermione'll see to that. She wouldn't even think of letting the Ministry get away with taking a Weasley. Not after all our years together. Why we're practically family." Her eyes narrowed on Hermione's. "Aren't we dear?"

Hermione shifted awkwardly in her seat. Mrs Weasley had not only managed to make her feel horribly guilty, but somehow managed to shame all of nature into silence along with her. "Yes Mrs Weasley," she chocked. "Of course we are." She felt Ron's eyes join the other twelve pairs that were watching her. "I'm very confident that Blake will be back with us soon." Her voice shook, betraying her lack of certainty.

"There you have it." Molly straightened in her seat either ignoring or missing the wobble in Hermione's voice. "You have nothing to worry about Ronald. With Hermione on our side we can't lose."

Feeling a renewed rush of panic from the enormity or responsibility that was being thrust onto her shoulders, Hermione pushed back from the table and jumped to her feet. "Excuse me." She choked as she rushed towards the house.

"What the hell was that about?" Bill asked as the kitchen door closed with a loud bang.

Ginny whipped her mouth with her napkin. "I better go after her." She said rising to her feet and throwing the linen on top of her plate.

It took Ginny nearly ten minutes to find Hermione hiding in the toilet on the top most floor. She was sitting on the cold tile, wedged between the toilet basin and the bathtub, back against the wall, knees drawn up and arms wrapped tight around them. "Hermione?"

"Go away."

"Hermione, what are you doing?"

The young brunette refused to look at the redhead. "I asked you to go away."

Ginny closed the door behind her and leaned against it, arms crossed over her chest. "Not until you tell me what's the matter."

Hermione clamped her lips tight as she shook her head vigorously.

"Why not?"

"I don't want you telling Ron." She whispered into her knees.

"You don't want me telling Ron what?"

Hermione looked up at her friend with pleading eyes. "That I can't handle this." Her words were barely audible. "I can't handle this, Ginny, I can't."

Ginny cast a few privacy charms over her shoulder before she moved to sit on the closed toilet seat. She reached for Hermione's hand and pulled it into her lap where she clasped it tight. "You can't handle what?"

"You're families going to hate." Her breath shuttered as she breathed in and out. "Ron's going to hate me. I don't blame him. I would hate me too. I'll have to leave. I'll have to go back to Spain. I couldn't stay here knowing…living with what I had done. Everyday. I couldn't…I can't… I just…"

"Hermione," Ginny slid off the toilet onto her knees and released Hermione's hand so that she could take hold of her shoulders and give her one firm shake. "Snap out of it. No one is going to hate you."

"You will if I lose the case."

"You're not going…"

"Don't say that!" she said shrilly. "You don't know! No one knows!"

"Hermione!" Ginny shook her again. "Get a hold of yourself. Ron needs you right now."

Instead of having the sobering effect Ginny had imagined her words caused her friend to collapse completely. "No," Hermione sobbed, hiding her face from Ginny behind her hands. "He doesn't need me. He doesn't need me and he doesn't want me. All he wants is Blake. It's all he cares about. And I don't blame him. I really don't but…"

"Shhh," Ginny hushed as she pulled Hermione into her arms and started rocking her gently back and forth as if comforting a small child. "I was worried you would do this. You've been working yourself too hard again. You always do this. You get so focused on one of your projects that you forget to take care of yourself. You wouldn't be talking this if you actually got sleep at night."

Hermione shook her head against Ginny's shoulder. "It's not that. I…" She bit her bottom lip painfully to stop herself.

"You what?" Ginny asked. "Hermione," she persisted, "You what?"

"I think he regrets…"

"What utter nonsense." Ginny cut her off, sensing the end of her thoughts. "I thought you were supposed to be intelligent."

"But, Ginny…"

"Are you insane?" the redhead pulled away so that she could look Hermione directly in the eyes. "You think he regrets being with you? You're the only thing keeping him together. Without you he would have fallen apart a long time ago."

"But…"

"No." she said fiercely. "Don't you understand? He's behaving just like he did when you left five years ago. You broke his heart and he was on the verge of falling apart then as well. I think the only reason he didn't was that he had his work to throw himself into. Don't you see? He's trying so hard to be strong, and I know that makes him seem distant, but that's the only way he knows how to handle this. And I know that's hard on you, and it's not fair, but don't you fall apart on me now. Not when we're so close. The hearing is only a few days away. It's almost over."

Hermione had a lost look in her eyes. "Or it's almost just begun. Didn't you hear your mother, Ginny? Hermione'll see to that. She wouldn't even think of letting the Ministry get away with taking a Weasley. Not after all our years together. Why we're practically family."

"She only meant..."

"I know what she meant. And I know what that means for me." Hermione swallowed audibly. "It means Ron won't be the only one chucking me if I lose. I don't think anyone's going to want me around after that. Not if I cost the family a member."

Ginny retook Hermione's hand and clutched it tight. "That's nonsense. I'll still want you around." Hermione looked up staggered. "Do you think Harry and Ron were the only people who missed you while you were away? You're the only person I ever felt comfortable confiding in. You're the closest thing to a sister I have ever had and you're not even technically family. So who the fuck cares if Mum would want you around or not? I still would. And damn it Hermione, if you try running away to Spain again I swear by Merlin that I will track you down and drag you back myself, that is of course if Ron doesn't beat me to it. But then again, if you leave my brother like that again I'm going to have to kill. I don't know how he would survive if you left him a second time."

Hermione lowered her eyes to her knees. "I would only leave if he asked me to."

"Good." Ginny nodded. "There's no worries then. I think that might be the smartest thing I've heard you say all evening." She held onto Hermione a moment longer, her head tilted slightly to the side in thought. "You're sleeping at Grimmauld Place tonight." Hermione's eyes instantly grew wide and she opened her mouth to protest only to have Ginny cut her off. "Ron is welcome to spend the night as well. But you're going to take a sleeping draft. I'll force it down your throat if I have to. And maybe tomorrow after you've had some proper sleep you'll see that I'm right."

"I don't think…"

"Precisely. You haven't let yourself have enough sleep to think. In fact, I don't think one night of sleeping draft will be enough. You're staying the weekend."

"Oh but…"

"Or perhaps I'll let it slip to Mum while I'm helping her wash up where exactly you've been sleeping at night."

Hermione's mouth dropped open in horror. "You wouldn't."

"Don't test what I wouldn't do. You're staying and that's final." Ginny pushed to her feet, hauling Hermione up with her. "I'll tell Ron and let him know he's welcome as well."

"But…"

"No more excuses. You're going to need to be well rested if you have any hope of winning. Harry told me Paxman's a real snake. You're going to need your wits."

"Alright then." Hermione nodded in agreement. "You win."

"Of course I do." She strung her arm through Hermione's. "I always do. Here," she pulled her wand out from her cloak pocket. "Let me fix your face for you." A few flicks of her wand and several mumbled charms and Hermione's face was back to its normal tear-free, un-puffy state. "That's better."

By the time the two women reached the back garden the rest of the family was busy cleaning up after the meal. Chairs were being magiced into the house, the tables were being reduced back to their original size and some of the adults were on their way to the broom shed, no doubt in search of old brooms for a low-key game of Quidditch.

Upon seeing them emerge from the house, Fred, who had been leaning against the low garden wall with his arms crossed, snagged Ron by the arm and pulled him away from the paddock and around the side of the house.

"Fred?" Ron said questioningly, trying to pull his arm free. "What is it?"

Fred's fingers tightened. "Just come with me little brother."

"What for?"

"I need to talk to you." Fred kept a firm grip in Ron's arm until they were standing near the front gate, well away from the rest of the family and well out of earshot. "So," Fred turned to look at him. "Do you want to tell me why Hermione was crying?"

"Hermione was…" Ron made to turn back to the house but seemed to catch himself. Crossing his arms he refocused on Fred. "How should I know?"

Fred frowned disappointedly at Ron. "You know, most blokes would be concerned if their girlfriends locked themselves in the loo to cry."

"Hermione's not my…"

"I know Ron." Fred cut him off. "I've known for a while. Bea told me."

"Who?"

Fred rolled his eyes. "Merlin Ron. Do you ever talk to your girlfriend? Bea? Beila? Ring any bells?"

Ron shook his head. "No. Should it?"

Fred shook his head with exasperation. "You're hopeless. Look," Fred held out his hand, "I know you think I'm an insensitive toerag who couldn't possible know a thing or two about girls. But listen to me. That girl back there, who you just let cry her eyes out…that's your dream girl. We all know it. Don't fuck things up. You'll regret it."

"Are you speaking from personal experience?"

"Maybe. Or maybe I know that the reason why Hermione leaves the Ministry late every day is because she makes floo calls back to her friend in Spain. Maybe if she felt like she could talk to you she wouldn't be pouring her heart out to Bea."

"Who the hell is Bea?"

Fred made a ticking sound with his tongue. "Maybe you should ask Hermione that. It's the kind of thing you should hear from her not me. Hey," he clapped a hand on Ron's shoulder when they hunched forward in a defeated manner. "We're all rooting for you. For you and both of your girls. I know I for one will be there on Monday with you."

"Yeah?"

Fred nodded. "George and I will be taking shifts so one of us is always there. I won the coin toss. Of course," he lowered his voice, "it was a trick coin so there was no chance I was going to lose, don't tell George that. But we'll both be there for the verdict."

"Thanks Fred."

"Forget about it. What else is family for? But seriously, Ron, think about what I said. In you effort to save one girl you don't want to lose the other."