Ronald Weasley, known as Ron to his friends and family, was pissed off. More than pissed off, he was furious. He hadn't been home in three days, spending most of his time in various bars, sleeping and drinking. But finally he decided to head home.

At one stage he felt guilty about something, but after a few drinks he ceased to feel anything. Within hours of drinks, whatever he had done to feel guilty had been wiped from his memory. Hell, the drink wiped most of his memories away; he could barely recall much of his life after he discovered the joys of drinking.

He hadn't even meant to start drinking, but it had been an anniversary of the War that had ruined many lives. He had spent the night with his older brother, George, as they tried not to think of the losses. After they found that avoiding the subject was difficult, they opened a bottle of whiskey. A few drinks later they had discovered it made them both forget the wars and all the losses, and had begun challenging each other to drinking competitions.

The next morning George had woken up with the biggest hangover of his life, which alone had been enough to make him swear off the drinking. Ron however found that more drink rid him of the hangover. And so his newest hobby began.

No one noticed how much Ron was drinking. Hermione barely seen him because he was rarely home. Harry and Ginny barely ever had the chance to see Ron and Hermione. Over the years, Ron had taken to keeping his wife and children under his thumb.

It was subtle at first, keeping Hermione busy with chores so she wouldn't have time to visit people. Then when she was pregnant he kept her in bed rest, going so far as handcuffing her to the bedpost one day and taking away her wand so that she couldn't leave.

After the birth of Rose, Ron had insisted Hermione become a stay at home mother. But after a few months she was bored of it, and a fight ensued. It was one of a tiny handful that Hermione actually won. Hermione got to go back to her job at the Ministry, and put Rose into day-care, making work the only thing that got her out of the house.

Hugo's birth was followed by another fight about Hermione being a working mother. Ron tried everything he could think of to get her to be a stay at home mother to their two children, but she refused. He finally gave in, allowing her to work, but he retaliated by burning her clothes that were deemed 'too sexy' and any books that he didn't approve of, leaving Hermione with little books and only her frumpiest clothes to wear.

Ron banged his hand on the door, wondering why no one was answering the door. He cursed out loud before he began to search all his pockets for the key. It took 10 minutes to locate the key and get the door unlocked, mostly due to the influence of having been drinking himself to sleep for five days straight. If only I could remember why I left in the first place. His drunken mind slurred as he entered his cosy three bedroom home.

He called out, but no one answered him, adding fuel to his anger. He tripped over a toy broom on the floor and swore loudly. Surely they know I'm here. He went room to room, finding no one. Maybe everyone is asleep. He headed toward the stairs, pausing at the bottom, and thinking. He felt as though he should remember something, but couldn't quite put his finger on it.

Upstairs, he prowled through all the rooms, finding them all empty. He looked at the dresser in his daughter's room, noticing the drawers were empty and slightly bare, but it didn't sink into his mind. After checking the last room he sat on the stairs, looking down. He couldn't work out where Hermione and the kids were; they didn't have many, if any, friends to go to other than his family. He rested his head against the railing of the staircase as he considered who Hermione would turn to. Within moments he was asleep, snoring loud enough to rattle the windows.

He woke up the next day sprawled on the stairs. As he stood up, he listened for any sounds that would indicate his wife and children were home. But the house was silent. He stumbled around searching for a hangover potion, but gave up quickly, grabbing another drink instead. He drank considerably slower than he had in years, reading a Quidditch magazine as he waited for Hermione to come back. He knew she would come back, she wouldn't leave him.

The days passed slowly, all blurring together. Ron spent his day drinking and waiting. Sometimes he would get angry; the furniture was the one that bore the injuries. He thought about checking with their friends, but he had no idea who she would turn to. She had no one; no one but him and their kids.

Hermione sighed as she sat on the bed in her room. I've been here such a short time but it feels like it has been ages. She put her head in her hands, planning. She had spent most the day trying to convince Draco that she would be fine to go to her house and get what she wanted. He insisted she didn't go alone, and got annoyed when she suggested taking Rose.

"I can take care of myself, I don't need a protector."

Draco raised an eyebrow questionably. "You don't?"

"No. I don't. Brightest witch of our age, remember. I can handle it myself."

"So modest too..." He couldn't resist adding. And he knew that he couldn't let her go alone. If he had his way she wouldn't be returning there at all, but she was much too stubborn for that to happen. She glared at him, and he couldn't help but be glad she didn't have laser vision.

"You're not going unless I'm with you, Hermione." With that, her glare turned into a violent storm.

"You don't own me Malfoy. I don't have to do what you say. I don't even have to listen to you!" She made to storm out of the room but to do so she had to pass him. She quickly headed towards the door but he put his arm out, intercepting her. She tried to push him away, but he spun her so she had her back to the wall and he was in front of her, his arms reaching out to the wall, stopping her from escaping.

He kept his voice low and soft. "Do you think I would stand back at let you go? You could possibly end up confronting that..." He struggled for the right word, deciding to go with, "bastard." Hermione looked up at him fearfully and he pulled back a bit. He sighed, and ran his hand through his hair as he struggled to come up with the best way to put it.

"Hermione, if it means that much to you you can go. But I would really rather you didn't go alone." She made to protest so he held up a hand to stop her. "You say you can protect yourself, but if that is the case how come you were unconscious when I found you? Nearly dead? He could have killed you and yet you still want to have the chance to confront him. The kids need you, they need for you to be fine."

His words rang through her head, and she finally realised he was right; she couldn't always protect herself, she had to have help sometimes. Shuddering, she thought of what would happen to her kids if something horrible had happened to her. The kids would be in Ron's sole care. She couldn't have that.

She relaxed, sliding down the wall a bit until he caught her in his arms. She allowed herself to stay in his arms for a few moments, long enough for her to mumble in his ear.

"Fine, you win. You can take me, but I want to go and sometime soon."

Draco agreed, if a little reluctantly, to take her to her house in a few days.

Hermione was pulled from her thoughts as the door opened and a small curly haired girl came into the room. Rose climbed up on her mother's knee, holding something pressed into the side of her dress so her mother didn't see.

"Mummy, are you going to see Dad?" She asked softly, concerned for her mother's safety.

"I am." Hermione couldn't help but wonder why Rose wanted to know, and then a thought struck her. "Sweetheart, do you want to see your father?" As much as Hermione didn't want Rose or Hugo to go anywhere near Ron, he was their father.

Rose fearfully shook her head. Hermione sighed in relief while wondering if Hugo felt the same. She had noticed the young boy becoming more and more distant every day.

"Is Draco going with you?"

Hermione nodded, gazing down at her daughter. Rose smiled, clearly in relief.

"Why?" Hermione couldn't help but ask, and got annoyed when Rose didn't answer. "Rose honey?"

"You won't get hurt." Rose mumbled softly as she looked away. Hermione remained confused by her words.

"Of course I won't get hurt."

Rose shook her head. "You did last time...and I don't want to lose you Mummy."

Hermione put her arm out, pulling her daughter into her embrace. They stayed that way for several minutes, enjoying the warmth from each other. Hermione ran her hand over her daughter's curls, kissing her on the head. She noticed the paper rolled up tightly in Rose's hand. Lightly, she nudged her little girl's hand, who released her hold on the paper.

Spreading it out, Hermione noticed that it wasn't a paper as first thought, but a photo. In it, a smiling Hermione stood with one hand on the shoulder of her daughter who stood in front of her. She was laughing at something that someone had said. Beside her, Draco casually had one arm around her. Scorpius stood in front of him, laughing and smiling with Rose and Hugo, who was standing next to his sister.

Hermione smiled at the photo, while Rose looked up at her. She handed the photo back, watching as the young girl ran her finger over it tenderly.

"Rose, nothing is going to happen."

"Nothing? What if Dad..?"

"Nothing will happen. Draco will be there, remember?"

"Okay." Rose smiled, lighting up her face. "And then do we get to live here? And be a family?"

Hermione tried to hide her shock. A family? Is that what she wants? Hermione thought about what it would be like to have Malfoy...no, Draco as her family. Then she looked down at her girl.

"One thing at a time." Rose turned away, looking at the photo.

"Maybe someday, sweetheart." Maybe someday.