Present
Ron was exhausted. He had spent the past four days with his brother Charlie in a vain attempt to help the man after he sacrificed his hand to one of those vicious dragons he seemed to love so much. Really, the man was no better than Hagrid. Nothing that Ron said could convince Charlie that perhaps it was time to give up dragon tending before he lost his other hand too. He was already lucky that the dragon hadn't snatched his wand hand in those giant teeth. The discussion had continued, voices rising and tempers flaring until Charlie said that Ron was just jealous that he had no real talent, and had only gotten as far as he had because of who his wife and best friend were. Charlie had instantly regretted his words, knowing that they had come born out fear at his ability to continue his job and the searing pain he was beginning to experience as the pain relieving potion began to wear off. But it was too late, his words had hit too close to home for Ron. Hastily throwing his possessions into his trunk, he glared at Charlie before slamming out of the cottage.
Ron had mounted his broom and opted to fly back to London, despite the fact that it would be a two day journey. He needed time to think. Charlie had managed to voice his worst fears again. Until a little over a year ago, Ron had been working with George at the joke shop. He had let his mother convince him that George should be alone, and that it was Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, and that it should be Weasley's that ran it. Ron had put his desires to pursue a career as an Auror on hold and grudgingly went to work at the joke shop.
He had been a miserable failure. And it had made him miserable. He tried hard to fill the shoes his brother had left. For nearly eighteen years he had struggled to make a go of it in the shop, biding his time. His attempts at new merchandise had been abysmal failures. His attempts at bookkeeping had nearly run the shop into the ground. His only saving grace was that he was a pretty keen salesman. Of course nobody else in his family thought he was a failure, but as Charlie had pointed out, Ron constantly held himself against his family and friends for comparison. Perhaps life hadn't become unbearable until Hermione's career had begun to take off.
He was proud of her. He really was. And he had wanted to share with her how proud he was of her. He still couldn't believe that she loved him, had agreed to marry him and be the mother of his children. He wasn't even sure at what point his pride had begun to be tainted with jealousy. Not of another man of course, Hermione would never do that. She was very by the book. He wasn't' even sure she had ever gotten a ticket with their muggle vehicle. But it was her career that began to bother him. For every failure Ron seemed to have, Hermione knew only success.
They had fought bitterly, and he couldn't help the ugly words that had spewed out of his mouth as that green eyed monster took rise within his chest, even as he desperately wanted to snatch them out of the air and stuff them back into his mouth. He was horrified that he had put the hurt in her eyes, that he had done that to her. But instead of apologizing to her, he would only turn his back to her yet again and walk away, his remorse and his jealousy mingling into this tight ball of emotion into his chest until he thought he would explode. Even as she became distant, he couldn't help it. He knew her distance was a result of his anger, but he still couldn't bring himself to stop.
Their worst fight had been when she was given a promotion to the head of the department of Magical Law that his anger reached a boiling point. He had had a particularly trying day at work, destroying nearly half of their stock with an experiment gone wrong. And George had let his shoulders sag; seemingly unwilling to even talk to Ron, despite that his younger brother had nearly set his beloved shop on fire.
"Just go home Ron," he had said with defeat. "I'll take care of things here. Just go home."
Then Hermione had been there with her shining eyes and bright smile that started to lift his spirits, until she had shared her good news. Ron just stared at her, disgust with himself turning and twisting like so much bile in his throat until he spewed his unhappiness and self loathing at her. Watching her eyes turn from happiness to fiery anger, and finally to cool distance, he couldn't take it anymore and turned to leave muttering that they would talk when he returned from Harry's.
"I won't be here when you come back Ron. I have to go to a conference in Europe for a couple of days. We'll discuss the rest of this when I return," she had told him coldly, not wanting him to see the tears shining in her eyes. But he had. He knew he should have stayed to make amends, but he just couldn't then. He needed to get away from his beautiful successful wife long enough to stop hating her for having the success that he so desperately longed for.
Things hadn't really improved when he had returned. They still fought occasionally. It was when Hermione seemed to find reasons to avoid him avoid coming home, avoid sharing his bed that he realized that he was driving his wife away, and that if he wanted to keep her love and save his family, he would have to make some serious life changes. He talked to George about leaving the shop, and tried not to be hurt when George accepted his resignation happily and began making plans to hire a replacement. One who wouldn't destroy the shop. He talked to Harry and made arrangements to apply for a post as an Auror.
He had of course gotten the job. Now that he wasn't so miserable at work, things with Hermione had started to improve. She went through long bouts of seeming depressed about something, to periods where she was the happiest, most easy going person that he secretly wondered if his wife hadn't been possessed by a spirit. He began to work harder at their marriage, and when the children had come home from school for the summer, they had taken a much deserved vacation to the French countryside that he knew Hermione loved. She was reluctant to leave her work at first, but with the pleading of her children, she agreed to take a trip and visit some of Fleur's relatives.
Things had improved that summer. Hermione became the loving affectionate woman he remembered, and it was almost as if they hadn't had any strife between them. Despite the occasional twinge of fear that he had only been given his wonderful job because he was friends with Harry, he was able to put some of his fears behind him and relax. Hermione had gone through another small bout of distance when they returned, but Ron had chalked it up to the stress of returning to work, and was grateful when they began to reach that place of happiness and ease again. It was rare now when Hermione would get that distant look, but Ron had learned to give her space when she got like that and eventually she would perk up and tell them some story about the strange things people tried to draft into law.
Now, nearly a year later here he was. Angry with his brother for voicing fears he didn't know anyone else may have noticed. He knew that Charlie had been speaking from a place of pain and fear. Turning his broom back towards Charlie's, he thought about how his anger had almost cost him his wife, he wasn't going to let it cost him his brother. He made amends with Charlie, who seemed relieved at the chance to apologize to his little brother. Ron quickly made arrangements for a lovely witch down the lane to tend to Charlie's wounds, and tried to suppress a chuckle at the thunderstruck look in his brother's eyes whenever the young woman entered the room. It was time he went home. Hermione wasn't expecting him for another couple of days. Perhaps he would swing by her office and take her out for dinner.
A/N: Sorry for taking so long. My husband just left for Iraq so we were spending as much time together as we could. Enjoy this installment. This story has been nominated for an award at the Dramione Awards on Livejournal. please check them out!