Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling. I own nothing of hers!

*A massive thanks to AzaleaBlue for helping me with this chapter!*

Chapter 20

Hermione stepped out of the Burrow's fireplace into a room full of laughter. Rose and Victorie were lying on the ground laughing hysterically while George was kneeling above them making multicolored bubbles appear from a rounded bubble wand. As the bubbles burst tiny flowers would flutter down onto their faces, and once they touched their skin, would disappear with a 'pop'. Molly was sitting on the sofa with some tea, and toast chatting with Fleur while watching her grandchildren.

At the arrival of Hermione, Rose glanced back, stretching her head backwards to look at her mother, upside-down. Seeing her, a huge grin spread across her face.

"Mummy!" She shouted as she jumped to her feet and ran to her mum. Hermione crouched down and caught her daughter in her hold. Rose threw her arms around her mother's neck and squeezed tightly. Hermione closed her eyes, using the opportunity to wipe her eyes free of the remaining tears. The three adults in the room stopped to watch the moment between the young woman and her tot. Molly couldn't express how happy she was now that her granddaughter and (hopefully) future daughter-in-law were in their lives.

"Mummy, we play!" She released her mum from her tight embrace and pointed back at George. "Bubbles!" She giggled and looked back at Hermione with bright eyes and an eager look on her face. Hermione grinned at her daughter, and reached to tuck a wayward curl behind her ear.

"Have you been playing with Uncle George?" She asked her daughter. She glanced up at George and smiled at him as well. He looked so much happier than he did when she left years ago, she couldn't help but observe how like his old self he was the night before. She knew Angela had been crucial to his healing process. Just seeing the two of them interact; she knew they were completely in love.

"New product at the shop, Angela's idea actually," he shrugged. "I figured my nieces would enjoy it." Victorie was still on the ground giggling away at the bubbles swirling above her, she clapped her hands and shouted. "Well, my lunch break is nearly over. Better get back to the shop." George pecked a kiss on each of the toddler's heads, and one to his mother's cheek, quickly saying goodbye to the two other women, and Apparated back to his work.

"We must be off as well. Bill is coming home for his lunch soon." Fleur scooped up Victorie, and gave Hermione and Molly hugs before Flooing back to Shell Cottage. Molly walked into the kitchen and stirred the stew that sat bubbling on the stove.

"Are you staying for lunch Hermione?" She collected her daughter in her arms and brought her over to the kitchen as well; Rose leaning away from her hip to see what her grandmum was doing.

"Sure." Hermione replied as she Accioed a bib from the nappy bag. She slid Rose into the high chair and secured her. Molly walked over and set some bread and vegetables on the tray for the hungry toddler. Mrs. Weasley served Hermione a bowl of steaming, chunky beef stew. Hermione inhaled, and instantly felt warmth spread through her body. Although it was summer, Hermione knew the warmth was comforting based on who created the meal. Molly sat with her bowl as well, and began to eat.

In a content silence, the pair watched Rose eat her meal happily, occasionally talking random nonsense. Hermione smiled at her daughter and noticed Molly glancing at her, once again, and look away. When they were almost finished, Hermione sighed and looked up to Molly.

"I'm so sorry Mrs. Weasley," Hermione whispered, no longer feeling hungry. The matriarch looked up at the young woman in front of her. Remembering what she told her son earlier that day, she held her tongue and reached out a hand to cover the smaller witch's.

"We were all hurt dear. But, I understand why you left. Well, now that you've told us. I would have done exactly the same if I was in your position. You were scared, and Ron said he wanted nothing to do with you or your baby. I just wish you knew you could talk to me." She gave a small squeeze to her hand.

"I know that now Mrs. Weasley." Hermione answered wiping a tear from her eye.

"Molly, dear." The woman corrected her. Hermione smiled and nodded her head. Hermione looked to Rose who was slowing down while eating, and looking awfully sleepy.

"Molly... would you mind if Rose and I stayed for a bit?" Hermione didn't want to return to Ron's flat to be alone, especially after she overheard the conversation in Ron's office earlier. A huge grin spread across Molly's face.

"Of course! Stay as long as you like." Hermione smiled in return, and the pair began cleaning up the dishes from their lunch. Molly went to lay Rose down in the crib she had for when Victore stayed over. Hermione finished drying the dishes and looked over at the entryway table where a copy of the Daily Prophet sat. Hermione dried her hands and picked up the copy to read. She flipped a few pages in and saw something that gave her an idea. She walked to the garden and sat in a comfortable chair. The breeze ruffled the parchment as she read. While every once in a while, taking out her wand and taping the paper, creating a small circle on the page.

Ron Flooed into his flat just after leaving work. He expected to hear Rose and Hermione's voices and see them playing in his den, like they had been the past few days. However, he walked into silence.

"Hermione? Rose?" He called, and heard nothing in response. He turned on some lights and began to work on dinner. He assumed that Hermione got caught up talking with his mum. As he worked he dreaded the conversation he would have with Hermione that night. Would she forgive him after he messed up so badly? He shook his head and continued to chop up some vegetables as he thought back on that night.

It was a Friday night, a few months back, and most of the Ministry employees headed out the local pub to blow off some steam. Ron was leaning heavily on the bar drinking a mug of beer, and had several empty shot glasses of whisky surrounding it. Harry was standing next to him wondering how Ron could remain vertical after all he had drank. Ron slammed his now empty mug, down on the table.

"Another round, yeah?" He yelled too loudly as others cheered around him. Harry looked concerned at his friend. This is how Ron had been acting since he couldn't find her. Working tirelessly as an Auror and drinking his nights, and sometimes days, away. Never listening to Harry when he'd been told he had enough, or he needed to get back to his flat. And as of late, he drank even more.

"Don't you think you've had enough mate?" Harry suggested, nudging Ron with his elbow. Ron squinted his eyes a bit, Harry guessed it was his best effort at a glare.

"Piss off 'arry." Ron slurred and he brushed him off and looked the other direction in search of his drink. Harry shook his head and grabbed Ron's arm firmly, capturing his attention once more.

"No, Ron. Drinking away your life isn't going to change anything. If Hermione was-"

"DON'T you dare say that name!" Ron yelled, moving so quickly out of Harry's grasp, and pushed Harry against the wall with his forearm bracing his across his chest, you'd think he'd been sober. "It doesn't matter if s-she'd be here, 'cuz, she's not here, is she? She never will be."

"If it doesn't matter, then why have you gone mad?" Harry challenged him. He thought for a moment that he saw a breakthrough in Ron's eyes, there for merely a second before being masked by fury. Ron pulled Harry from the wall and pushed him away, grunting a "leave" as he leaned his torso against the bar once more.

"Where's my bloody drink?!" He demanded. Harry stood there wondering how much longer he could buy off the press and the pub staff members before word got out that Ron was a complete and utter drunk. At this point, he had another drink in his hand, and three more shot glasses emptied beside it. Harry glanced toward the exit, feeling the need to leave and stop protecting Ron. It had been years, and nothing had gotten through to him. But, he knew full well how drunk he was. If he left him there, he'd be arrested for killing multiple people from just looking at him wrong. Harry sighed and rubbed his eyes beneath his glasses.

"I can make sure he gets home alright." Slightly startled, Harry turned to see Isla, the small, brunette secretary whom he saw often at work. He himself would consider her an acquaintance, but knew that Ron had many more personal meetings with the Minister, and was friends with the small witch. Harry looked back at the redhead who was currently in his corner of the bar finishing off another pint, while the server placed an additional one in front of him. Trying to reign in his anger, Harry turned back to Isla.

"You think you can manage?" Isla nodded her head, as Harry thanked her, and left through the front doors of the pub to Apparate away.

Isla looked at the gorgeous redhead in front of her. She had known him since she was hired for the secretarial position over a year ago. Always coming back from exciting and dangerous missions, being kind and considerate to his friends, and of course his impressive good looks, she couldn't help to fancy him. It started out innocent enough, he would treat her like a human instead of just a secretary. He'd ask her how her day was going, or how her weekend was. Nice, simple. Not flirtatious at all, yet, she felt herself falling for him as time passed. They'd sometimes see each other at Ministry functions and parties, and have conversations, but that was the extent of it. She'd known about his time at Hogwarts, and him helping to defeat the Dark Lord; who hasn't? She discovered that a certain witch he fancied left for America, and that the separation was not on friendly terms. As time began to pass, she hoped he had fully moved on, and was ready to see other women. Well, more specifically: her. Other than just a friend. Hadn't he been the one to overlook her position and see her as a person? He would be the one to see her as someone he could want.

Isla removed her long robes, straightened her dress, and adjusted the neckline slightly. She sauntered to perch on the stool next to where Ron was downing yet another pint of alcohol.

"Fancy seeing you here." Ron sloppily placed the mug on the bar, and looked down at the girl who spoke to him. It was his friend, Isla. But, she looked different than he normally saw her. Her normally long straight hair, was a cascading set of curls, down her back. And instead of the office attire he was so used to seeing her in, she wore a tight fitting, deep red, dress that clung tightly around her slim waist. The neckline plunged down between her breasts, leaving him with a tantalizing view if she shifted too quickly. His eyes bulged at the sight.

"Well, are you just going to sit there gaping? Or are you going to say something?" She giggled at Ron's reaction, which was exactly as she wanted. Ron straightened at the counter, sat on the stool next to her, and wiped him mouth on the edge of his sleeve.

"You l-look amazing." He admitted, clearly trying to focus on the situation at hand. He gestured to the bartender and got a drink for her.

"Thank you," she replied. She took a sip, and watched him out of the corner of her eye. He was taking another shot. As he did so, a witch having a hen night entered with her ensemble, having the bartender leave the secluded corner Ron and Isla were in. She turned toward Ron, who had just set the empty shot glass on the table and was staring forward, almost dazed. Isla slipped her hand into Ron's that was lying on the counter. He continued staring forward, his gaze hardening a bit.

"Ron," she began, approaching the subject carefully. "Maybe it's time for you to move on." Ron didn't flinch. He stared across the bar at an old brick wall. "I mean, there are plenty other witches out there, and loads of them fancy you." She continued, now moving her gentle touch along to his forearm. "There's one even sitting right here." She moved her hand to his thigh and gently brushed her hand along to his knee. She bit her lip, unsure how he'd react to her being so forward. For a moment, nothing happened. She watched him, looking for something, and he continued sitting stiffly, staring ahead.

She sighed, and released her lip, figuring she had made a huge mistake and embarrassed herself. Then, she was startled by the pair of lips that had attacked hers. Ron's lips. She instantly relaxed and gave him the entrance he was begging for. He growled low and she moaned into his mouth at the sound.

She didn't even notice when they stood, or the stomach-turning feeling of Apparation until they landed roughly in Ron's flat. She looked around, and finding a door, that she assumed to be his bedroom, pulled him toward it, while keeping their lips locked. Once she entered the room, she turned her back to him while Ron continued to trail kisses down her neck. Kicking off her shoes, she couldn't imagine what he was feeling, as she was light headed from just a few sips of her drink and his ministrations.

She stepped away from him for a moment to undo the zipper on her dress, revealing her matching deep red lace knickers and bra. She scooted back until she was laying on the bed, and reached back to undo her bra. Ron removed his shirt quickly and dropped his trousers, fumbling a bit since he removed his shoes afterwards, and pounced on the bed atop of her before she was able to remove her item of clothing.

"I'll do that." He stated in a voice of his deeper than she had ever heard. She was almost shaking from her desire. He reached back and undid the clap, revealing her to him. But, then he did something unexpected. Instead of ducking down to enjoy the two new features, he lifted his head to hers and kissed her deeply while winding his fingers in her curly locks. She allowed herself the pleasure of letting her hands roam his built figure, and moaned as she felt something excruciatingly hard press up against her. Ron chuckled slightly and lowered his lips trailing down to kiss her jaw, then her neck, then her collarbone.

"Oh Mione." He moaned as he lowered himself even further, just to where Isla wanted him to be. But before he could continue, her eyes shot open at what he had called her.

"What?" She spoke in a harsh whisper, pushing up slightly on her forearms.

"Huh?" Ron replied confused by her actions, and continuing to give her body attention.

"What did you just call me?" Isla asked, fully knowing the answer.

"Isla." His brows creased and he stopped his actions to look up at her. She shook her head, trying to blink back the tears that were suddenly pushing against her lids.

"No. You called me Mione." Ron's eyes widened in realization, and the tears fell from Isla's eyes, as she pushed Ron away from her and scrambled out of his bed. Ron groaned and ran his hands through his hair, as Isla frantically searched for her clothes. Ron finally sprung from the bed, and stood beside her helping her find her items of clothing. She managed to hastily get her dress back on, and was holding her bra, and one heel. Ron found the other and handed it to her, seeing how upset she was.

"Isla, I'm so sorry-"

"Don't. Don't talk to me." She sobbed and looked him in the eye. "I don't want to see you ever again." She held back a cry, and walked out of him room, and Flooed away.

Ron couldn't believe he let things get that out of hand. Ron finished cooking dinner, ate, and was cleaning up when he checked the time once again. Hermione still hadn't returned. At the same time, a silvery otter twirled in through the kitchen window along with a large brown barn owl. The otter slid around in the air, keeping a distance from Ron, unlike Ron's Patronus from earlier in the day. When the Patronus was a few meters away, it spoke in Hermione's formal tone.

"Ginny dropped by after practice to start planning the wedding. Rose is fine. I'll be back in a bit." As soon as the message had been delivered, the silver otter promptly vanished. Ron thought that was odd, as it didn't act as it had years prior; however, a lot had changed since then. He decided to retrieve the parchment from the owl still sitting officially on the window pane. He took the letter that it carried, gave it a treat, and shut the window as it flew away. He opened the letter finding a quick note from Kensington.

Ron,

I have examined Hermione's letters and have found the same results I had for yours. Someone forged the letters by hand, without the use of magic. I will return the letters once the investigation has resolved. I included the list of workers with this letter in hopes of you remembering something that could help. Please look it over again, and let me know if either of you recall new information.

Britton Kensington

Ron sighed and rolled his neck out along his shoulders. He wasn't sure if they'd ever find anything on who forged the letters, as of right now, there were no leads. Ron shifted the parchment to bring up the list of post workers. Slowly reading them, he shifted through his memories to see if any of the names sparked something in his mind. When suddenly, something happened as he read one of the names he hadn't gotten to before. He had to think back to sixth year at Hogwarts, and very carefully created a theory that he thought Kensington would want to hear. He shot to his office and wrote his recollection down and sent if off promptly, hoping that this was the lead they were looking for.

Ron checked the time and decided to start getting ready for bed. Hermione was still not back by the time he laid down in the bed in his makeshift room. He laid there trying to sleep thinking over everything he had been through, and what was still to come.

He must have drifted off to sleep but awoke suddenly when he heard the fiery green flames crackle from someone Flooing in. He got out of bed, wand in hand, and caught Hermione heading to his room with a sleeping Rose on her shoulder.

"Glad you're back alright." Ron whispered, trying to keep Rose asleep, as not to have a repeat of the night prior. Hermione jumped, as she was startled from not expecting Ron's voice. He stifled a yawn and squinted at the clock on the mantle. Almost midnight.

"Merlin Ron! You frightened me!" She whispered back, placing a hand over her heart, which was currently being cover by the curly haired child.

"I was pretty startled as well when I heard the Floo this late at night!" He bit back harshly.

"I'm sorry. Your sister decided she wanted to start planning the wedding, and was going on about it. I didn't know it was going to happen."

Ron sighed. He knew how Ginny wasn't a girly woman, but, when it came to her wedding, she was obsessed with planning every detail.

"Look, I guess I just wish I would have known how long you would have been over there. I could have come over and had time with Rose. I really missed her today." Hermione visibly softened at the statement. "Once you lay her down, would you mind coming back for a bit of a chat?"

"I suppose..." Hermione entered the bedroom to place the sleeping child in her crib comfortably. Ron slumped on the couch, feeling tired from his day, and waking up in the middle of the night.

"What did you want to talk about?" Hermione asked, her voice a tad louder now Rose was sleeping peacefully in her room. She stood a good distance from the sofa with her arms crossed in front of her. "We need to make it quick so I can get to bed."

"What is the plan for tomorrow?"

"Well, I have a long day I'm sure. So, since you missed having time with Rose today, you can pick her up when you're done with work. That way, you'll have more time with her."

"What about you?"

"I'll be back when I'm done. It'll be a late day." Ron exhaled and wiped his face with his hands.

"I meant, when will I get to spend time with you?" Hermione's ears perked at this statement. Internally berating herself at the excitement from hearing those words from his lips.

"I don't know. But we don't need to be spending time together. We need to be spending time with Rose."

"There's a conversation we need to have without her present. Why don't we get it done now?"

"I'm tired Ron. I'm going to bed. Goodnight." With that, she turned quickly and sped into the bedroom. Ron sat there utterly shocked at her rejection. Hadn't things gone smoothly just the other night? He knew why he was nervous about speaking with her. Perhaps she sensed something was wrong. Whatever it was, he'd have to wait for another day.

A/N: I'm finally on winter holiday, so the chapters should be coming along quickly. I'd like to remind everyone that this is a Romione story! Please bear with me through their misunderstandings. Next chapter will be much happier! Thank you all for sticking with this story. I enjoy every notification for a review, follow, or favorite! Let me know what you think!