Ron stood still and stared up at the house, half in awe, and half because he was far too nervous to move. The house stood on the outskirts of a small village - Renningworth, he thought Harry had said. There was a narrow track road behind him, leading to a small gathering of buildings a short walk away - a church, grocery store, post office, and a few houses. The house he was gazing at was extremely large - it was obvious that the residents were quite wealthy. It was the peak of summer, so the right hand side of the stone building was covered with lucious green ivy, weaving around the windows and snaking around the two stone pillars on either side of the oak front door. The house was very beautiful, thought Ron, and homely looking, and immaculately kept. The large garden was in full bloom, red and orange and purple flowers planted all around.

Ron nervously took a step forward, and started up the path which lead through the greenery and up to the front door. As he got nearer, he noticed two Flutterby Bushes on either side of the door, proving to him that this was, indeed, a magical household. He took a deep breath, and, praying to Merlin that he wasn't in, knocked three times on the brass knocker.

He waited for about twenty seconds, and was starting to think that nobody was in, when he heard hurried footsteps behind the door.

'I'm so sorry, I'll be two minutes! I can't find my wand - I mean, my keys!'

Ron smiled in spite of himself. It was the first time he'd heard her voice in six years, and she sounded exactly the same. At least he hadn't changed her too much.

Suddenly, catching Ron off guard, the door opened.

Hermione stood there, looking extremely flustered, probably from frantically searching for her wand to unlock the door. When she saw Ron, her jaw dropped, and the look on her face would have been comical if the situation wasn't so serious.

They stood there, staring at one another, until Hermione seemed to gather herself and closed her mouth, a pink blush rising up her cheeks. Ron didn't know what to say. Then -

'Ron.'

His name sounded different on her lips to what it used to. When they had first been together, his name had sounded beautiful on her tongue; it sounded as if she caressed every letter of it. Then, when, Ron saw now, things had started to go downhill, his name had sounded sharp, piercing and quick, as if she wanted the taste out of her mouth as soon as possible. Now, however, there was no feeling behind it; just the pure shock of seeing him skulking on her doorstep.

Ron wasn't sure what he should say to her blatant proclamation, and as he was considering whether to stay silent, speak, or run for it, Hermione spoke again.

'What - what are you here for? How do you know where I live?'

She was on the defensive now; he could thoroughly understand, really. Why would he turn up at her house after years of no contact? She must know from Harry and Ginny that he hadn't kept a girlfriend for more than a month since they split up, and that they had been very few and far between.

'Harry', said Ron, in answer to her second question. 'And er - just ... to talk, I suppose.'

Hermione looked very suspicious - Ron could almost see her brain working, wondering whether to let him into her home. Eventually she stood aside, and Ron stepped over the threshold tentatively. Then, before he could stop it -

'Is Malfoy here?'

Her face darkened and she looked at him shrewdly, while closing the door against the blistering sun.

'Draco is out with Ellie. My daughter,' she added in way of explanation.

Ron felt a sharp pang in his stomach. He had known that Malfoy and Hermione had a daughter - Harry was her godfather, and thought that Ellie was the greatest thing to ever grace the Earth. But hearing it from her personally sort of confirmed it for him. He also remebered that Harry had told him Hermione was expecting her second child - another girl. As he looked - discreetly, he hoped - he noticed she was wearing a furry, cream dressing gown. He could see her baby bump, and thought that he had better say something in regards to it.

'Erm - Harry told me you were expecting another .. erm ... baby. Well, congratulations.'

Her face softened slightly, as she too looked down at her stomach. 'Thank you.'

They were silent for a while. Ron was feeling significantly awkward. 'Erm, nice house,' he stated.

He looked around the hallway he was standing in. It was large and square, with bare, polished floorboards and an enormous cream rug covering most of the floorspace. On the same wall as the door, behind him, the windows were floor length and cast long rectangles of light along the floor. The walls were also a soft cream, and there were various moving photos on the walls. To the left, there was a wide, ornate staircase, and Ron could see a bookcase on the landing upstairs.

'The living room's just through there,' said Hermione, gesturing to a door in the top right hand corner of the cubed hall. 'Erm, just go in, make yourself at home ... I'll just make myself presentable.'

Of course, thought Ron, it must be uncomfortable to be standing in your marital home, in your - admittedly very short- dressing gown, with your ex-fiance. Ron's eyes followed Hermione's slender, tanned legs as she climbed the stairs. No, Ron - he mentally shook himself - it wasn't a good idea for him to display his feelings here. She was married, for Merlin's sake, to Malfoy.

Ron walked across the hall and into the living room. Like the hall, it was cream, with several plush sofas and a dark wood coffee table. Now Ron was in the main living space, he could tell that this was a wizarding home. There was a broomstick propped up against the back wall, next to a set of french doors that lead out the back, and a distinct lack of electrical equipment, apart from a little metal thing with buttons on Ron thought might be called a phone. A pot of Floo powder sat on the mantelpeice and there was several bulging bookcases, filled with various books - Ron bent over and looked at some of the titles. There were several books titled 'Enchanted Encounters' by Fifi LaFolle. Ron smirked; his mother had those books at home. Hogwarts, A History - well, obviously, thought Ron - 'My Life as a Muggle' by Daisy Hookum, as well as school books from Hogwarts, and many others.

Ron looked at the moving pictures on the walls. There were many pictures of Ellie - she was the spitting image of Malfoy. Blonde hair, pale skin. There was a few of Malfoy and Hermione together, but Ron skimmed over those. There was also, to Ron's immense surpirse, a photo of Malfoy, Hermione, their daughter, and Malfoy's parents. It was obviously professionally taken; matching clothes, a dark backdrop, forced smiles.

Hermione was a taking a very long time in his opinion. He hadn't lived with a woman since he and Hermione had split up; he had forgotten just how long they took getting ready. He suddenly felt extremely sorry for Harry when he remembered living back at the Burrow with Ginny.

Ron tentatively sat down on the edge of the sofa. There was a pile of papers on coffee table, mostly colourful scribbles, obviously the work of two-year-old Ellie. Ron picked them up and flicked through them. Ron recognised Hermione's writing - the letters E-L-L-I-E were written by Hermione in big letters, and underneath Ellie had tried to copy them. Ron chuckled. Trust Hermione to try to teach her daughter to write, aged two.

Suddenly, a large, leather book caught Ron's eye as he went to place the pictures back on the coffee table. Ron picked it up carefully - it was extremely old. Faded, peeling gold letters on the front spelled, 'Album'.

Gingerly, Ron opened the album. It's spine creaked ominously. There was a yellowing note stuck in the front page.

Dear Hermione,

Happy 21st Birthday! This was my great great grandmother's; she was the only Malfoy ever to be in Gryffindor. Hope you like it.

Lots of love, Draco xx

Ron averted his eyes from the note. Although he was well aware by now that Hermione and Malfoy were married, had a daughter, and were obviously in love, he did not like to think of it any more than he had to.

The album was full of pictures of Ellie, family, Ellie, friends and more Ellie. There were pictures of Christmas, birthdays, and parties, all with Hermione's neat handwriting underneath, stating the date, place and names of people in the photographs.

A picture of their wedding day caught his eye. They were standing in side by side, Malfoy holding Hermione's hand in his own in a pose for the camera. Hermione looked stunning; her dress was ivory, a fitted, beaded bodice and a full skirt, fitting her waist perfectly. She was beaming - Ron had never seen Hermione looking so happy. She was wearing an ancient, sparkling tiara in her softly curled hair, very much like the one Fleur and Ginny had worn at their weddings. Ron remembered Harry and Ginny's wedding day - he had seen Hermione there, with Malfoy, and that was the only time he had seen her in six years. Mind you, they hardly even looked at each other - Ron had stayed as far out of her way as possible. It had only been about a year since Hermione had left him, and she had only been seeing Malfoy a few months. The pain had still been raw for Ron, and he had left the reception soon after he had made his best man's speech. Clearing his head, Ron looked back at the photo. Malfoy was in a Muggle suit, much to Ron's surprise. They were standing infront of a grand staircase in a decorative building; flowers were in bloom, wrapped around the pillars. Ron read Hermione's caption underneath. Draco and I on our wedding day, Guildhall, London - July 21, 2002.

Ron turned the pages of the album slowly looking at the pictures. He came across one of Harry and Ellie sitting on a swing. The caption read, Harry and Ellie, Renningworth Park, April 5, 2005. Only a few months ago, thought Ron. Then, suddenly, turning the page, he caught sight of his own face smiling out of the album. He stared at the picture. It was taken in the garden of the Burrow, according to the caption. It was of Ron, Hermione and Harry, standing smiling, arms around each other. They all looked so happy. In the background, Ron could see other members of his family bustling about; Fleur with a then-newborn Victoire, jostling her about, trying to get her to sleep; his Mum, watering the flowers; Ginny, trying to pull a resistant gnome out of the vegetable patch. He sighed. He had been so happy then ... he had thought his life was mapped out infront of him, a simple path he had to walk down. He had never imagined that the path would become so overgrown and difficult to maneouvre.

He remembered back to the day when Hermione broke the news, informed him that she was leaving him, that she didn't love him anymore.

Ron stared at her, gobsmacked. She didn't love him anymore? Well ... why?

'Why - what ... what have I done? Is it me? Have I -' he stuttered, to overcome to think straight.

'No! No, Ron, it isn't you, you haven't done anything, I just ... feel differently about you now. You're not what I need' There were tears running down Hermione's cheeks, but she sounded firm, sure; Ron knew then that there would be no going back.

Ron's world was spinning; he hadn't thought there was anything wrong with their relationship. He wasn't what she needed - but he needed her, didn't that mean anything? What was he going to do without her, he loved her, more than anything in the world! It seemed, to Ron, like his whole life had been ripped out from underneath his feet and torn into shreds right in front of his eyes, and he was falling, falling down a black hole, into a dark, bottomless abyss.

'No - please, Hermione, please no - I can change! I can stay at home more - we can go on holiday! Please -' Ron was babbling, trying to make it better, wishing and wishing that he would wake up and find that Hermione was lying next to him, warm and comforting, and, most importantly, THERE -

'Ron!' Hermione's voice broke through his ramblings, and he fell silent, gazing at her. 'Please ... don't make this any harder than it already is. I love you, I do, but ... not in the way I should. I didn't realise before, I thought I could make myself love you, but I can't. I'm sorry, Ron.'

Hermione wasn't crying any more. She looked teary, and sad, but she stood firm on her feet. Ron felt like he was being spun round in circles very fast, he couldn't make sense of what she was saying -

'I - what? How ... how long have you felt like this?'

Ron felt a strange satisfaction at the guilt that graced Hermione's face. 'A - a month or so, maybe two.' Ron's jaw dropped in horror. 'Oh, please, Ron - don't look like that! I thought we were just having an off spell, I thought it would sort itself out!'

'Thought WHAT would sort itself out?' Ron finally burst out. 'There isn't anything wrong with our relationship!' At least, not in his eyes.

'Oh, Ron! I've only just turned twenty, and you're still nineteen - and we act like fifty year olds!'

Ron racked his brains, trying to figure out exactly when he had acted like a fifty year old.

'Look at Harry and Ginny! They go out for dinner, away for weekends, they're so affectionate towards each other. And - look at us. There's no fire in our relationship, Ron - we go to work, come back, go to bed. We never do couple things. I'm still young, this is not what I want, this is not what a twenty year old's life should be like.'

She stopped for breath, and looked at him. Her eyes were apologetic. When she spoke again, her voice was quiet, delicate and pleading.

'And, Ron - this is not what you're life should be like, either. You deserve to have fun, to love somebody who will love you back.'

Ron simply stared at her. There were tears building in his eyes, but he refused to let them fall; not until she had gone.

'I'll - I'll pack an overnight bag, then I'll come for the rest of my stuff tomorrow,' said Hermione whispered, then turned and headed off towards the master bedroom. Ron was left, standing in the middle of what had been their living room, staring after her.