9

Chapter 8: The Peacemaker

Hermione Granger couldn't remember much about the day that Emma Potter had knocked her out Just that something seemed off about the whole thing, but the story was the only thing that made sense. Especially when she arrived at Harry's townhome and saw that all of Emma's things were gone.

She had left.

Though, Hermione still didn't understand why Emma would knock her out. Ron thought it was because she was scared.

"She's a muggle. You yourself said it's easy for them to freak out."

She nodded, not knowing what to say. It made perfectly logical sense, but there was still something off about this.

"I know you thought you knew Emma, Hermione, but she was a perfect stranger. We'll help Harry get through this."

"But she has his baby." Hermione said.

Ron shook his head. "You really think that's his baby?"

"Oh, Ronald, don't be obtuse."

He sighed heavily. "Think about it, Hermione. Girls like that usually don't go for guys like Harry and I."

Hermione wanted to laugh at this remark. Had he looked at Harry lately? Sure, he might've had a valid argument three or four year ago, but Harry had grown up (quite nicely). Plus, Emma seemed enchanted with him. While Hermione wasn't overly romantic, she had better people skills than most people would give her. And she saw the way that her best friend looked at his wife and vice versa.

Ron rolled his eyes, "Think about it. Some bloke probably made Emma up the duff, abandoned her, and she hooked onto the first guy who showed her interest claiming he was her baby daddy."

"Oh come on, Ron, this is not an episode of your mum's soap opera." Hermione said, "Emma's not even showing. She's been with Harry since this summer; I really think you're wrong with your other baby daddy scheme."

"It's only the middle of September," Ron said. "It could work. She's tall, tall women usually show later."

She shook her head at him, but as farfetched as Ron seemed he did seem a little bit logical. All the evidence seemed to suggest he was right, or at the very least Emma had decided to bail on Harry.

"Hermione, I get you want to believe the best in people, but she knocked you out."

Hermione sighed. "Maybe, you're right. God I need a drink, it's been a long day."

"I think Harry has some brandy around here somewhere," Ron said. "You'll really be okay here?"

She nodded. "Get back to school, the last thing we need is Snape going after you."

Ron nodded and quickly left to take the floo back to McGonogall's office.

God she was glad, she used that coin when she did. Odd she didn't exactly remember squeezing it, and for that matter why would she squeeze it if Emma knocked her out.

Must've been reflexes.

Hermione didn't remember a lot of things about the day, only that she had woke up at St. Mungo's. The healers said she was knocked out and that the memory lost she incurred was perfectly normal. However, Hermione was pretty sure that there was something more to all this mess.

Frowning she sighed pouring herself a glass of Sirius's brandy. Usually she disapproved of drinking, but right now it was the only thing she wanted to do. The past year had been too tumultuous for her liking. And God knows she was dreading when Harry came home, she didn't even know how she was going to explain Emma disappearing the way she did.

None of this made sense. Emma had seemed so weak this morning, how could she possibly knock her out?

At some point she nodded off, because when she woke up it was dawn. She squinted as she heard the door open. "Harry?"

She would've thought he'd been back sooner.

"You're up, Hermione?" Harry said walking in the room.

There was something off about him, Hermione noticed taking in his appearance. It was as if something had shaken up his entire existence.

Did Ron tell him already?

"You want a drink?" She asked.

He nodded. "Yeah, I think a drink would be very nice right about now."

She nodded pouring the brandy. She hadn't even finished her glass earlier, so she topped it off.

"Seems like you got started early," Harry said as he sat down in the living room with her.

She sighed heavily. "I'm sorry, Harry. I didn't think she'd do that."

"Do what?" He said. "And why are you wearing a bandage on your head, dearie?"

She rolled her eyes at the 'dearie' endearment. It was a new thing. She decided Harry thought he needed a signature phrase like a muggle superhero would have. She hadn't said much about it, but sometimes it seemed to come out more abrasive than other times.

She eyed him, "You mean, you don't know? The way you looked I thought Ron would've filled you in."

Or more like gloated.

"I haven't seen Ron since this morning," Harry said. "I've been trying to keep my distance. I really don't want to turn my best friend into a snail."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "You know that goes against the laws of magical theory, Harry."

"Rules are meant to broken," Harry said. "Look at the time turner you and I went back in time third year, and time travel is supposed to be impossible."

"It should be with all the problems that it causes," Hermione said. "But even if theoretically you could turn someone into a snail, I'm sure it would be illegal if not a friendship breaker."

"Don't worry, Hermione, I'm not planning on turning your boyfriend into a gastropod."

She wrinkled her nose. "Argh, no. Ron and I aren't together and will never be together, despite what his thick mind might think."

"Really?" Harry said, "I thought you were in to him last year."

"Maturity does wonders. I don't want to end up in divorce court before I'm thirty. And I really doubt he'd pay child support. There's no ambition there, and it drives me crazy."

"Seems like both of us lost interest in Weasleys." Harry said.

Hermione sighed, knowing he was going to soon turn his attention to Emma. She didn't know how she was going to tell him the truth. It seemed whatever happened this evening, it hadn't been ideal.

"I'm taking it things in Hogwarts didn't go as planned." She said.

"I got the potion ingredient if that's what you're asking," He said. "Though, it's sort of useless now."

"Really?" Hermione said. "I never understood why you needed that ingredient either, most of the time that specific ingredient is used for genealogical potions, I really don't know what other use they have."

"I was seeing if there were any other Slytherin heirs," Harry said. "Sort of silly, isn't it?"

Hermione gave him an odd look. "Really, Slytherin heirs? That was what the big heist was for?"

"I thought he might've hid some of his soul fragments with them. Or for that matter if I keyed the potion correctly I might be able to find the rest of the soul fragments since they'd be tied to Riddle's DNA."

It did seem like a logical explanation, but there was something about all of it that didn't click much like Ron's story.

"Hmm," Hermione said. "Seems like a lot of risk without a definite payoff."

"You could say that," Harry said with a sigh as he took a sip of his drink. "It's been a long night, how's Emma?"

Hermione sighed heavily grabbing her brandy glass.

"Dearie, I'll ask again, how's my wife?"

She sighed, "Emma's not here, Harry. She left."

"Don't be ridiculous," He said. "She said she'd be here. You were supposed to watch her."

"The bump on my head, Ron and I think she knocked me out, I really don't remember much. Just that I woke up in St. Mungo's and Ron said the house was cleared out of Emma's' belongings. I checked the wards and they hadn't been breached which means that she left on her own free will. Ron thinks she might've left because the magic thing was too much for her. Harry?"

He was unusually silent and she thought she heard him mumble something like everybody leaves. She couldn't be sure though. Anyway, she continued. "It's going to be okay, Harry. I'll help you find her if you want."

He shook his head, "No. She's probably safer anyway. I—I want to find her, Hermione. But at the same time, if she left she needs her space."

Hermione nodded, "That's very mature. But your child?"

He shook his head. "The baby is probably safer without me."

"Harry, I'm sure—"

"Don't be ridiculous, Hermione. Voldemort wants to kill me. And I hurt everyone I love. Excuse me, but I think I need some space."

"I'm not leaving," She said.

He sighed heavily, "Fine, sleep on the couch or one of the extra bedrooms for all I care. Just don't bother me; I'm not good company right now."

He then went up the stairs.

He didn't come down the stairs at all that day it seemed. However, Hermione had no choice but to knock when Ron had sent her notice that Snape was found slumped over dead in his office.

The letter read this:

Hermione,

Found Snape's corpse when I went to get assigned detention for visiting dear old Aunt Violet. By the way, can you ask if she's okay? I never made contact with her before she went back to the estate. As for the professor, the aurors don't see any foul play. The portraits don't remember seeing anything either. They think it was heart failure of all things. Needless to say, I won't be attending detention now. The ministry hasn't decided who will be in charge now. McGonogall is the interim headmistress so maybe things will improve?

Best,

Ron

Snape dead?

Hermione was confused and started knocking on Harry's door.

No one answered.

Sighing heavily, she opened the door to what had been Harry and Emma's bedroom only surprised to see what she found. The room had been completely trashed. It looked as if some wild animal had been unleashed in the room. Drapes were torn into pieces. The mattress looked like it had seen better days and the antique lamps were now a pile of glass.

Oh, Harry.

He must have put a silencing charm in the room for her not to hear anything.

She sighed heavily as she got out her wand and mumbled a cleaning charm as she felt someone come from behind her.

"I didn't want you to see that," Her best friend said.

"It's okay," Hermione said. "You've had a hard night. I wanted to give you some space, but, um, Ron sent me a note that was sort of interesting."

"Did he finally learn how to spell your name?" Harry asked.

Hermione rolled her eyes. Though it was true, Ron could barely write. It wasn't that he was particularly thick or anything—though, sometimes Hermione wondered—most purebloods couldn't spell basic words. It was in part because they never really had proper schooling. Most were homeschooled or if they were rich had governesses like Draco Malfoy. Given all the galleons that his tutor had been given, Hermione really thought Draco would've known how to construct a proper essay, which was something McGonogall constantly huffed at him about.

"Don't be ridiculous." She said, "Snape is dead, Harry."

"Really," Harry said. "I'd say let's throw a party, but as you can see I'm really not in a partying mood. I want to stop Riddle, Hermione."

"I know," She said.

"I want to get rid of him, and then I'm going to find Emma. I know, I told myself last night that I wouldn't look for her. But I want to find her, and I'll let her go if that's what she wants. But I need to make sure she's okay."

Hermione sighed. "I'm sure she's fine, and the baby is too. I still can't believe she left."

Harry sighed heavily. "She's had to deal with a lot."

"I know, but so have you. And that's your baby."

He sighed heavily. "A part of me wants to say f to all of this and find her now. But, I've lost too many people to let Riddle get his way."

She sighed heavily, "I don't think it would be that difficult finding her."

He shook his head. "I don't have any of her DNA to use the potion. And the baby isn't born yet."

"I can find them," Hermione said. "I'm not doing anything else, and I feel bad about what happened."

"You were knocked out," Harry said. "I can't blame you that much, dearie."

"Gee, thanks." Hermione said. "But really, I can see if I can find anything."

"Let me think about it," He said.

She nodded her head and turned back to what interested her, Snape's death. "They said it was a heart failure, but he was so young."

"Well, if his hair was any indicator there was probably enough grease to clog up his arteries." Harry snapped.

Hermione shook her head.

"What?" Harry asked, "I can't say that I'm not happy the man is dead. He's tortured enough people that I love."

She still thought the death was odd, though a part of her was right. The world wasn't missing much with Snape's demise.

Time passed. Harry soon became obsessed with the hunt for Voldemort like she knew he would. Although, he still spent a lot of time locked in his bedroom when he was at the townhome. A room, Hermione, knew he constantly destroyed and then repaired when he got angry. What she hadn't been expecting was the new basilisk skin jacket that he had started wearing.

She didn't know how he made the thing, but one day he came out of his room in it and she couldn't help but stare.

"What?" He said, "I got some things when I was at Hogwarts besides the potion ingredients, dearie. You know basilisk skin is supposed to be more repellant to dark curses than dragon leathers."

"Yes, but—I've never seen you in leather let alone snakeskin, Harry. It's taking some getting used to."

It was like the suits he had worn when he first came back to London, and the haircut, and the contacts. Not to mention Harry now was ridiculous methodical and scary smart. Hermione used to have to explain everything to the boys, but now it appeared that she didn't need to explain anything to Harry. Those wards alone—she was impressed—and had asked Harry how he learned so fast. His answer: survival mode.

"I could always make you one," Harry told her as she kept staring at his jacket. "That is if I have enough skin after I make the pants and maybe the cloak."

"Basilisk pants? Really, Harry. I don't even think Draco would wear leather pants."

"Ew, why are you talking about Draco Malfoy? And why would Draco in leather pants ever be a thing? Don't tell me that you have a thing for Draco Malfoy? I thought you were a feminist, Hermione?"

"Ugh, no." She said, "Though, I don't see how liking Draco would have me turning in my feminist card. But no, that's never happening. Though, I'm glad to see you're snarking again. I thought you were going to lock yourself in your bedroom forever."

Harry's demeanor changed. "Oh, believe me, when I say that a part of me wanted to still be in there. I just need to get this done so I can go back to what matters."

Meaning, finding Emma and his baby.

"Any leads," She asked.

"Maybe one or two," He said. "I'll let you know. I have to go to Diagon Alley today. Maybe rob Gringotts."

"Gringotts, Harry? I—"

"I was told by a very reliable, if manipulative, source that there might be a horcrux locked up there. I'd go through the proper legal channels, but quite frankly the ministry is a mess right now."

"You need backup," Hermione said. "I'm coming with you. Honestly, robbing a bank. Are you mad?"

"It's debatable," He said. "And you're not coming. I already have a fail proof plan of turning the goblins to snails if things get bad and the dragons into iguanas. Hopefully, it won't come to that. Though, I could do with a fire breathing iguana those are cool."

"Don't be ridiculous, you can't turn goblins into snails. I don't know why you have an obsession with turning people and things into gastropods lately. And the amount of magic to transfigure a dragon into an iguana is next to impossible. And if you look in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, there's no fire-breathing iguana. " She then added, "Besides, we're a team."

"I need you to stay here and start working on finding Emma, I—I want to see her again, Hermione. I can't let go, not like this."

She nodded though given the bump on her head; she was starting to wonder if it might've been better not to look for Emma. She knew what she had promised him earlier, but as time went by the angrier she got at Emma's actions.

Still, a promise was a promise.

It wasn't until Hermione read that there was an apparent iguana infestation at the bank that she started to get suspicious. There was nothing about missing dragons though, but the dragons weren't something that the goblins really kept track of. It was more or less the vault's owner that paid for the care of them.

Harry shrugged when she asked about them. "Coincidence, dearie, turning dragons into iguanas is pretty much impossible according to our Transfiguration text. Though, now that you mentioned that there was an iguana infestation at the bank, do you think they'll be letting people adopt them? I could do with another pet, though I don' t know how Hedwig would care for a lizard. Whatever, she'd get over it. Wait, do owls eat iguanas?"

She glared at him. "We're friends, Harry. I want to know how you did it. Don't lie to me. Something happened this summer."

"I got married," He said. "And my wife left me with my unborn child."

She sighed heavily. "I'm working on finding her, Harry. It's harder than it looks when you can't use magic."

"I know that," He said his tone kinder. "And I appreciate that, you've been a good friend. I know I've been laying a lot of things on you."

"Have you tried talking to Ron?" She asked knowing the answer—he hadn't.

Ron had written her earlier that week complaining about it. Honestly, a part of her was done playing peace maker. She didn't understand how Harry was able to stomach doing the job for so many years. It was just exhausting, another reason why she was glad that she decided to quit pursuing Ron.

Harry sighed heavily, "I don't think I can handle his 'Tough break, mate, but I knew it was coming' and 'Ginny is more than willing to give you a shoulder to cry on since your wife left you'."

"Harry," Hermione shook her head.

"Well, it's true," He said. "I'll talk to Ron when I'm ready, now's not the time."

"He would love to help," She said.

"Oh, trust me when I say I don't need his help."

"I have noticed you seem a lot more confident in your skill level than you used to." She said.

Another opening for explain what happened to you this summer. Seriously, at times she felt like she was dealing with another person.

"A lot happened this summer, besides Emma. Stuff you wouldn't begin to believe."

"Yeah, I figured as much." She said, "You want to tell me about it?"

"When I'm ready," He said before excusing himself.

He wanted to go to Godric's Hollow for Christmas. She thought it was the strangest thing, but agreed. He kept up the schedule being randomly in and out of the house, leaving her alone. She would randomly see a strange, seemingly impossible looking story about some strange occurrence—such as the random death of a couple of suspected Death Eaters—in the Prophet, but he would quickly shrug it off and state that he had work to do. She didn't press further. For some reason, she didn't want to. If she did, Harry would remind her about her own school work, which honestly she didn't care that much about since her focuses had been on trying to find Emma.

Needless to say, she had had no luck.

Currently, Hermione was in the process of hiring a private investigator, but Emma could be anywhere in the world at this point using any name.

Hermione, herself, had kept trying to remember details of that night, but was having little success. She felt like if she could piece together something that might've occurred. She mentioned it to Harry when they arrived at the small cottage that his parents once lived in.

"Did the healers say the memories could ever come back?" He asked.

She shrugged. "They were sure parts would, but not everything. The last thing I remember was Emma running to the bathroom."

He nodded and said, "She would be in her second trimester now. I would be able to feel the baby kick. We would know what the gender is. I can't believe I'm missing all of this."

"I'm going to find her, Harry." She said putting her hand on her shoulder but even though she reassured him this, she felt helpless.

He nodded as he stood on the cliff that surrounded the Godric's Hollow cottage. It was really a breathtaking view if frigid. "It's peaceful here, isn't it?"

"It's lovely," She said. "It looks like a nice place to grow up."

"I suppose," Harry said with a sigh.

"Are you really ready for this," She asked secretly thinking this idea was bad. True, the property hadn't been as big of a wreck as she thought it would be. Harry mentioned that he recently had someone clean it up—probably Kreacher. He didn't like talking about the house elf he inherited with her, knowing that she'd like started spewing out stuff about SPEW.

"I need to be here, I've already missed so much time." Harry said not making much sense. "I owe him—them—this much."

"Harry?" Hermione said. "Any parent would have done what Lily and James did."

He shook his head. "You don't understand."

"Then maybe tell me what's going on," She said. "I've know you've been holding something inside that is killing you. You can talk to me, Harry. Please, what's wrong?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," He said.

She sighed heavily as she looked down at the sea below. Although, peaceful there was something sad about the place and God, she was cold.

"Let's go inside," She said. "We can still get a room at the bed and breakfast if this is too much."

He shook his head but took her hand anyway. On the way down the cliff to the house, Hermione saw the graveyard. "Is this where—"

He nodded. "Yeah. I already laid down a Yule wreath. I know they're not technically there, but I wanted to leave something to show that someone still cares."

She nodded as they continued their walk. Most of the rest of the day was spent in silence.

Then she said, "I heard from Ron. He wanted to invite us to have Christmas at the Burrow. I mean, there's still time. We could always apparate there if you want. It might be a little happier than—well, this."

"Is that what you want, Hermione?"

Sort of.

"I want to be here for you, Harry."

He sighed heavily, "Fine let's go. I owe you that much."

It was the worst Christmas ever.

She was never the type to exaggerate.

By all accounts, the table looked like something that would've been in one of her mum's magazines—save for the occasional wizard tool or dish. The matching sweaters that the Weasleys were all wearing was a bit too much as well, especially since they were all bright red this year.

"Harry, Hermione," Mrs. Weasley said giving them both big hugs. "It's so good to see you."

"It's good to see you too, Mrs. Weasley." Hermione said. "Everything looks gorgeous."

"Oh, thank you, dear. You look, well, a little thin, but we'll soon fix that. Harry, dear, it's been awhile. How are you doing?"

"Fine," He said, "I brought wine. It's a merlot."

"That's very generous," Mrs. Weasley said. "Poor dear, I know you've been through a lot this year with that horrible woman and all."

"Emma is hardly horrible," Harry said.

"I didn't mean—" Mrs. Weasley said, "But she left you. That's what Ronald said, she knocked out poor Hermione."

"Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said trying to keep the peace long enough so that Harry and Ron could hopefully reconcile or something. Although, with the way things were going she was starting to doubt that that would happen. "I'm sure it was a misunderstanding. Now, why don't I help you with the kitchen."

"Oh, everything is almost ready dearie. You can just go upstairs and get all prettied up with Ginny. Just wait until you see her new hairdo."

It was now Hermione's turn to roll her eyes.

She had been hoping that visiting Ginny would've made things easier, it hadn't. In fact, it made things if anything worse.

While she found the whole prettying up thing ridiculous—because really, Mrs. Weasley—what she found going on in Ginny's room was even more ridiculous.

Or at least when she saw Ginny's hair.

The girl had charmed it blonde.

And it looked awful, though it didn't clash like the red would've with her obligatory Christmas sweater.

Really though, if there was one thing she had been envious about it was Ginny Weasley's hair. Then again, she had been envious of most other girl's hair. Hermione pretty much deemed her hair the worst hair ever; it had taken her three bottles of that stuff Lavender Brown had recommended just to get it straight for the ball during fourth year. Regardless though, Ginny's normal hair was envious with its vibrant red color and the girl could easily style it too—straight or curly.

However, she did not make a good looking blonde. Sure, it didn't look that bad. Her hair hadn't turned an odd color of orange or anything else like that, but it just seemed a little creepy. And the fact she hadn't charmed her eyebrows to a more suitable color didn't exactly help.

"Do you like it?" Ginny said oblivious to how charming her hair the same color as Emma Swan's.

"I think you're crazy," Hermione said. "Really, Ginny, what were you thinking?"

"I just wanted a change." The girl snapped.

"By charming your hair to look exactly like Emma Potter's, really you don't see how that is a little creepy?"

"It's not like Emma's."

Hermione shook her head. "I thought you were over Harry, Ginny. "

The former redhead sighed. "I—I was trying. I didn't think there was hope, but she left him."

"And now you're trying to look like her? Really?"

"I thought maybe he didn't like my hair, it sort of looked like his mum's, you know. And, I asked Mum if she could help me charm my hair, I thought maybe I'd try my luck as a blonde. She thought it was a great idea too, I didn't know it was going to look just like Emma's. Maybe I shouldn't have gotten her to charm it for me. Though, it does look nice."

Hermione sighed. "Well, I'm sure we can style it to look different if you want to and do your eyebrows too."

Ginny sighed heavily. "If you really think it's too much, maybe. I like the color though, at least it doesn't outright say Weasley."

"Hey, that's not a bad thing."

Ginny just shook her head. "Maybe, but I can at least be happy that I do not look like a tomato for one Christmas."

She had a point there.

Harry didn't seem to notice Ginny's hair. Hermione didn't even think he gave her a second glance, and even if they did they had pulled it back into an elegant French twist, which was not exactly Emma. It actually looked good on the Weasley girl, especially since her eyebrows now matched her hair.

Rather, Harry's attentions were being forced by Mrs. Weasley and Ron. Hermione inwardly sighed, trying to buffer the conversation out as much as she could.

Mrs. Weasley kept attacking Emma any chance she got, tried to mention Ginny wasn't seeing someone, Harry would then reply he was still married and then Ron would remind him that Emma abandoned him.

She could tell this was really aggravating Harry.

"Really, dear," Mrs. Weasely said. "You are a sight for sore eyes, when was the last time you got a haircut?"

"I'm growing it out a little," Harry said. "It seems a little bit more mature this way."

"Well, with that snakeskin I almost didn't recognize you. Really, Harry, a snakeskin cloak?"

"He also has snakeskin pants," Hermione said. "He likes to dance around the house in them."

"I do not!" Harry snapped. "I don't do dance parties. You know that, dearie."

"Dance parties? Snakeskin pants?" Mrs. Weasley said, "I think I'm going to need some more of that fine wine Harry bought."

"A good thought," Arthur said intervening. "I think wine will do everyone some good."

She got where Arthur was coming from, but alcohol and Ron and his mother were a bad idea. Rather than getting them to shut up, it would have them talk more.

"You know what you need to do, Harry," Mrs. Weasley said after she drank three or four glasses of merlot, "You need to show this Emma girl you're over her. Look at Ginny here, just as attractive. She's even a blonde now. Helped her charm her hair myself, AND she's not up the duff with some other man's baby."

And that pretty much ruined Christmas—well, the mince pies hadn't exactly been up to par this year. But a remark like that really took the cake, considering Harry stood up and said. "I think I'll be going now, excuse me, but I do not want to be invited to another dinner if all you're going to do is defame my wife. You know, that would give Emma grounds to sue you for slander."

"For Merlin's sake, Harry," Ron said. "She's not coming back. Get over it, man. "

Harry glared at him. "And you wonder why I didn't respond to your letters for three months."

"Ron, Harry," Hermione said, hating that she had taken over the role as the internal peacemaker. "Why don't we step outside for a minute and discuss this."

"I really don't see what's there to discuss," Harry snapped as he summoned his basilisk cloak. "Ron and his painted up biddy of a mother are mad that I still have feelings for my wife and haven't proposed to Ginny yet. Apparently, her becoming blonde was supposed to solve everything."

Out of the corner of her eye Hermione could see that Ginny was blushing. Her hair might've been the same shade as Emma's now, but that didn't keep her having the infernal redhead blush that she hated.

"Harry," Hermione warned though she got where he was coming. Ginny should've been glad that she had allowed her to style her hair for the evening. "Please, your embarrassing Ginny. She doesn't deserve this. Neither do the rest of the Weasleys."

"Which is why I'm leaving," Harry said. "I was hoping that things would be normal, but they won't until you get this One Big Happy Weasley Family nonsense out of your head."

"Your wife left you," Ron said not backing off. "One day it's going to dawn on you man, and it's going to be too late. Ginny will have moved on. And honestly she should, we all should. You don't ditch your friends and your girl for some chav who scammed you and dumped you when her real baby daddy appeared."

"That's a lie," Harry said. "That's not even what happened."

"Is it, mate? Did she leave anything behind? No, she didn't."

And that was when it happened, Harry decked Ron.

Hard.

In the nose.

Hermione didn't know Harry could hit that hard, and neither did any of the Weasley's either since they were staring at Harry in horror, though Hermione could've sworn that she heard one of the twins saying that it was the best Christmas ever.

Typical.

But man, did he punch him! Hermione thought that Harry might've broke Ron's nose. There was blood oozing all over the place. It didn't help that Mrs. Weasley was screaming so loud that Hermione was pretty sure she was going to break the local sound ordinance until suddenly she couldn't speak.

"That feels so much better." Harry said looking at Ron, "And oh yeah, it was my chav wife who taught me to deck someone. She didn't want me to be unprepared for my Batman suicide mission that everyone seems so dead set against me going on. Emma told me to always go for the nose, it's not bone. It's cartridge, easy to break."

He then turned towards Hermione and said, "Okay, I'm done. I'll meet you back at the townhome. I'm guessing you want to attempt to calm every down, be peacemaker."

"Harry."

But he was already gone. Leaving her alone with the Weasleys.

Inwardly, she groaned shaking her head at Ron who at this point had started wailing.

"Oh, suck it up, Ronnie." Fred said. "It's just a nose. I've gotten my nose busted in quidditch matches all the time."

"Now's not the time, Fred." She said with a sigh looking at Ron she muttered a healing charm that she read about and sure enough the nose was fixed.

"Thanks, Hermione." Ron said. "I can't believe Harry broke my nose."

"It was epic!" George said.

"Shut up," Ron said.

Hermione sighed and turned to the most rational Weasley there—Ginny. "Hey, can you take care of your mum and things. I think Ron and I need to have a talk before I get back to Harry."

Ginny nodded rolling her eyes at her brother. "I told you not to push him."

As Hermione led Ron up to his room.

Even after all this time, the room creeped her out with its peeling orange walls and posters of quidditch players and now the occasional issue of Play Wizard thrown around there for good measure. Oh, and more than a few dirty plates.

It was disgusting.

Hermione shook her head, "You really should do a cleaning spell in here twice a week."

"Don't mess with me, Hermione." He said, "This is the worst Christmas ever."

"Is it?" She said, "Because I recall Fred or maybe George saying the opposite."

"Of course they would say that," Ron said as he flopped onto the bed. "You know they actually liked Emma, can you believe that? They probably liked her boobs. She had nice knockers, like you."

Hermione ignored Ron's sexual harassment of her breasts and focused on Emma, but she still couldn't help but being slightly disgusted. Drunk or not, there was no excuse for him to say things like that. "Well, I liked Emma too, until she knocked me out. But I still think she didn't do that."

"You're so smart," Ron said the alcohol obviously hitting him. "Bet if you were still attending school you'd be head girl."

Hermione sighed heavily. The war and the defunct ministry had caused her life to change a lot. A part of her would love to be at Hogwarts right now, she knew she had the highest grades in their class. When she found out she couldn't return she had been devastated and had made it her goal to make the ministry regret losing her. She had poured over the early assignments that Ron had sent her from Hogwarts, but ever since Harry had came back, she hadn't thought much about it.

"Ron, Emma wasn't terrible. She might've knocked me out, but she was scared."

"Oh, yes, always finding an excuse for her."

"I'm not excusing her," Hermione said. "Obviously, she was messed up. She wouldn't have hit me otherwise. Something had to be upsetting her."

"She certainly looked messed up," Ron slurred.

"You saw Emma?" Hermione said.

"What?" Ron asked.

"You said Emma looked messed up. She supposedly knocked me out and you found me. Are you telling me you saw Emma?"

"No, don't be ridiculous. She wasn't lying on the street with you."

"Street?" Hermione looked at her friend. "You told me you found me in the house."

"I…I found you in the street, right. Didn't I tell you?"

"Why would we be in the street?" Hermione asked. "Harry and I agreed that we were going to stay in the house unless an emergency occurred. And I thought you told me earlier that you found me on the floor."

"Did I?" He asked.

She glared at him. "Oh God, what did you do Ron?"