Arthur looked at Hermione hesitantly. Beside him, Molly's stare switched between Hermione, and Harry and Ginny, who sat flanking her. The silence in the room was nauseating to Hermione, who despite everything her mind was screaming at her, was hoping with all her heart that they had listened to her and agreed to break her marriage with Ron. Her brain knew that the chances of it were slim but for once she wasn't listening to her head. Hermione had flooed to the Burrow with Ginny and Harry firmly at her side. The elder Weasley's knew Hermione had to be staying with someone, and as much as they hoped it was the Potter household, they had a sneaking suspicion it wasn't.

Molly had hoped the day would reveal who Hermione was living with, wondering for a few brief moments if she had been having an affair, but then shook the thought away. It wasn't like the girl they knew to cheat on her husband, no matter how awful she said he was.

"Oh Ronnie! Glad you make it." Molly was up on her feet smothering her son in a hug the second he stepped out of the floo.

Both Hermione and Ginny gave a slight gasp, and Harry just found himself thankful they had placed Hermione in the middle. He took his best friend's hand and gave it a slight squeeze, letting her know that she was not alone.

Hermione's face thundered as she glared at Molly. Then her gaze turned to her husband. He glanced in her direction but didn't look directly at her. Hermione felt a small glimmer of satisfaction knowing he couldn't look her in the eye.

"Now we are all here, we can begin." Molly directed Ron to the seat opposite from Hermione as she spoke, her voice far more cheerful than anyone else in the room.

"I don't know how to say this." Arthur looked at Hermione regret, written all over his face. With that, she knew what he was going to say.

"We aren't going to break your marriage. I believe that marriage is a sacred bond that shouldn't be broken. It's nothing a bit of counselling can't fix." It was Molly who spoke, while Arthur looked at everywhere but the occupants in the room.

"Thats..." Ginny leapt up to speak, but Hermione tugged her back down. Ginny settled an 'are-you-an-idiot' look on her face, glaring at her mother. A stand-down of glares began between the two stubborn Weasley women before Arthur gently pulled his wife away, breaking the stare.

"If that's it, we may as well leave then." Harry rose to leave, but a firm look from Molly made him sit down again.

Molly brushed down her apron idly and turned her attention to her son. "Ron, why don't you tell us what you're feeling right now. Why do you think Hermione wants a divorce? What does she mean to you?"

Ron's face went red very quickly and he looked at his mother meekly. He glanced across the table at his wife who sat with a cold guarded look on her face.

Ginny leaned into Hermione and with a voice just loud enough to be heard by Harry and Hermione only, whispered, "This looks staged."

Hermione sent back an amused look, remembering the dinner itself was entirely staged but not voicing any thoughts out loud. She was still less than impressed that Molly had invited Ron. Suddenly she was very thankful she had insisted Rose and Hugo stay with Draco for the day. The last thing she needed was Rose's Weasley temper flaring up.

"Mione is my whole world. And the kids, you're the best things that ever happened to me." He had the decency to look at her with shame.

Harry covered his mouth as Molly started talking about marriage and counselling. He leaned in, much the same as Ginny had moments before, "I remember you saying he had the emotional range of a teaspoon. Reckon you might be right."

Ginny bit the side of her cheek to stop herself from laughing. Between the smart comments being whispered and her mother's ranting, she was struggling to hold it all in.

"I don't think so. I don't want to go to counselling, I don't want to risk my children's lives by returning there. Thank you for the suggestion, but I'm not interested." Hermione said calmly, wanting to leave.

Arthur turned to her. "It's not that I don't want to. It's been too long, too many years together. You have two children together; think of what's best for them. We...we think it's for the best."

Hermione gave him a curt nod, seeing behind his words at the real message. It was what Molly wanted.

"Where are you going?" Molly nearly shouted. The day wasn't turning out as planned, but then, she had started with the most optimistic plans of anyone.

"There is no point us being here anymore. We have kids to pick up."

"You're going? Back to...him. You're a cheating slut! I don't want anything to do with you! You've polluted our kids into thinking I've done something wrong, and now you've convinced my best friend and my sister that I'm the bad guy. Well I'm not; you're the slut, sleeping with that..." His voice stopped and he clutched his throat.

All eyes stared at him, some in disbelief like Arthur, some in curiosity like Molly, and the others in a mixture of shock, fear and disgust.

Hermione quickly realised Ron knew who she was staying with and that he could be about reveal everything. Not that it matters now. She thought bitterly. The thing she had hoped on the most had fallen through; it was time to try for the backup plan.

"That...he done something to me...and he stole my wife...when I find him, I'll kill that..." He scratched as his throat, his face fading from red into a deep purple colour.

Molly began rushing around, trying to help her son. Harry gave a slight nod at Arthur before rising, and with the girls at his side he left, Ron and Molly never noticing anything.

It had taken an hour, but Ron was finally able to talk again. His face however remained the eggplant-purple colour, no matter how much Molly and Arthur had tried to remove it. The only thing that remained was to hope it wore off over time.

With a slight gasp, Molly slid her youngest son a piece of parchment and a quill.

"If you can't say it, write it. Who is Hermione with?"

Ron looked at her sceptically, before gripping the quill. Molly took a step back, giving him space. He put the tip down on the paper hesitantly, before drawing a single line. His hand began to shake as he put the quill tip at the top of his line. He was cautious, wondering if anything would go wrong; whether writing was cursed too. As he started to complete the first letter, a bolt of pain shot right through his hand. He looked at the quill in shock, but figuring it was a joke product left in the house from is brothers all those years ago, he continued. He had three letters down when the bolt of pain ran through his hand and into his arm again, much more intense than the first time. He paused, but the pain didn't stop. Instead, it ran through his arm and into his chest. Slowly, it travelled throughout his body, hitting his legs and other arm almost in synch. Just when he thought it couldn't get any worse, it ran into his neck. In shock he dropped the quill, ink splashing over everything he had written.

His head began to feel like it was being crushed by several heavy objects, and he gripped it in pain. A sharp choking sound rippled through the room as his eyes glazed before fluttering shut.

Molly rushed to his side, letting out a breath as soon as she realised he was still breathing. He was in a deep sleep and didn't move at all as she hovered him through to his old bed. Arthur hadn't moved the whole time, waiting for his wife to come back so they could decide whether they needed to take him to St Mungo's. She bustled back in, staring at the parchment on the table that was drenched in ink.

"How...?" She knew as well as Arthur did that there wasn't that much ink on the quill to begin with, yet the end result looked like several bottles had been tipped over all at once.

Brushing the quill away, she picked up the paper. The dried ink showed none of the letters at all, and she let out a big sigh, throwing it away. It had been her idea; she had wanted to know who Hermione was with so badly that she hadn't thought the whole thing through. It hadn't taken her long to realise that the person's name was under a spell, something she had never seen before but that she guessed was like a darker version of the Fidelius Charm. Another idea came to her; if he couldn't say it or write it, she would just get the memory from him and borrow a pensieve. When her son woke up...if he woke up at all.

"A failsafe?" Harry echoed. He had questioned Draco about it as soon as they had gotten back to the Manor. Hermione had been annoyed when they had arrived back and had gone to play with the kids to distract herself. Ginny had been torn between wanting to know and wanting to stay with Hermione, so settled for following her friend knowing that her husband would tell her later.

"Yes. Simply, if Weasel wanted to tell anyone about that day at Hermione's he wouldn't be able to."

"Smart idea." Harry said a little begrudgingly, accepting that they had all gone past petty childhood grudges.

"I know." Draco shot him a cocky look. "I had to make sure that the secret was safe."

"What exactly does it do?" Somehow Harry suspected he didn't exactly want to know.

"Nothing harmful. He won't die. I figured Hermione wouldn't forgive me for that, even if it made all our lives easier." Harry gave Draco a brief smile; as much as he hated Ron right now, he still didn't want him dead. "He can't say it, or write it. He can think about it, but he can't share that thought with anyone."

"Not even with Legilimency?"

"No. I'm not entirely sure of the whole process." Draco gave a sheepish look. "I know that it will mark him in some obvious way, so people who know of the spell know he is trying to betray someone. If he tries two separate times to pass on the information he will pass out and the memory will vanish from his head. He will be left knowing that Hermione is staying with someone, but will never quite be able to put his finger on exactly who it is. And thus, keeping her safe."

"Where did you hear of that?"

Draco gave a smirk. "It's an old pureblood secret."

"Of course." He looked out the window, catching a peek of Hermione and her son. "She will be okay."

"Yes, she will." It wasn't a question. "She will be fine. She's the strong one, she always was. We just have to resort to plan B."

"We just have to...create an actual plan B."