She gazed out the window of their countryside home as he lay sleeping in their bed. A tear rolled down her cheek as she watched the snow gently falling on the once grassy hillside. She turned again to him, knowing that at any moment, the sun would wake him from his peaceful slumber into quiet discontentment. She took a deep breath, pushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. The children would be awake soon…Rose and Hugo, both too young to understand the discontentment of their parents relationship. Rose, a picture of her mother, was only 3, while Hugo, the mirror image of his father had just turned 1.

Her heart broke, as she considered the alternative to her decision. No matter the decision, it would be heartbreaking for her, but times had changed, and the decision had been forced. She saw Ron stir, and went to take a seat beside him, in their bed…their marriage bed. It was the bed that they had first made love in, the bed they had created both Rose and Hugo in, the bed that she had…it didn't matter now, her mind was made up. She was about to change their lives forever.

"Mione?" He asked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, and propping himself up on his elbow.

"Yes Ronald."

"It's early…what's wrong? Why are you dressed?" He asked, squinting into the light.

"I'm leaving Ronald." She said, unable to meet his eyes.

"What time will you be back then? Should I make breakfast for the kids?" He asked innocently.

"No Ronald. The kids are coming with me. I'm…I'm leaving you Ronald." She said, gathering as much strength as she could.

"What?! 'Mione, why? What?" Ron was completely befuddled and confused.

"I'm leaving because I saw you." She responded, new tears forming in her eyes.

"You saw me? What do you mean you saw me? Saw me where?" Ron asked, and Hermione was becoming agitated.

"I SAW YOU HERE! I came back after dropping the kids at mums, instead of going immediately to the store. I came back to get my bank book, and I saw you and that woman in our bed. That's all."

He lay in the bed, staring dumfounded at his wife, who had tears streaming down her cheeks. She was leaving him, and she was taking their children. He had really messed up. It had been one moment that he had stupidly given into lust. That was all it was, lust. Some woman at the ministry that had shamelessly been throwing herself at him. He loved Hermione, and he wasn't entirely sure why he had done what he had done. Hermione had always satisfied him, and he had satisfied her, so he was unsure as to why he felt the need to be with someone different. Still, he had, and she had found out, and now she was leaving.

"I'm sorry. Can I just…" He started.

"No Ronald. You cannot undo this." There was no real anger in her voice, only sorrow.

"I really messed up, didn't I?" He asked, tears now forming in his own eyes.

"Yes." She said, crossing to the room to grab the suitcase that he hadn't noticed before this.

"Where will you go?"

"I'm going to my parents."

"Why not the Burrow?"

"It's not right Ron. I'm leaving, and it's not really fair for me to leave to your parents house." She responded, knowing that severing her relationship with the Weasley family would be as difficult as the separation from Ron. Still, it had to be done.

"Oh."

"You can see the kids whenever you like. I won't keep them from you. You are a wonderful father. You should also know that I'm…I'm pregnant, 5 weeks." Tears fell more quickly with these words.

"Are you serious? Then you can't…you can't leave, not now…not when you'll need me. Who will get the food for your cravings, hold your hair back during morning sickness, go with you to the ultrasound? Hermione, it's a sign, a fresh start." He pleaded, sitting up in the bed.

"I suppose my parents will help me. Again, I won't keep you from the baby. Now, I have to get the kids. I have to leave. I won't say anything to your family about this. It's up to you what you tell them. And I won't hurt my children by telling of your infidelity, and I would appreciate it if you didn't either." She said coldly, before taking up her suitcase and moving towards their door.

"Wait." He cried, and as she moved towards the door, he yelped.

"What?" She asked with a sigh, unable to look at him.

"Will you come here for a moment?" He begged.

"What is it Ron?"

"I just…one more time. A last request if you will? Please." He asked, holding his arms out to her. And just as if there were no problems, as if she were not leaving him in just a moment…she sat down on the bed, and allowed herself to fold into his arms.

They lay back into the bed, his arms securing her body against his own, and they both cried. She could hear Ron mumbling over and over again his lament, his apology. He consciously placed his arm on Hermione's stomach, and wept even more, and as if it was the most natural thing, she covered his hand with her own. The remained that way for but a moment, before she removed his hand from her stomach, and unwrapped herself from his form. She got up, and without looking back, walked out the door.

He waited until he was sure they had gone before dragging himself out of bed. He dressed absentmindedly, and fixed himself a bowl of cereal. He didn't know how he could face the world, without Hermione by his side, how he could look his family in the eye, and admit that he had messed up everything he and Hermione had worked so hard for. He wasn't sure that he would ever be able to look his baby girl in the eyes, knowing that if any man ever did to her what he had done to her mother, he would kill them. How was he to teach his son to be a man when he couldn't feel like less of one? And the unborn child, growing within Hermione's womb…what of the baby? There would be no stories of mummy loving daddy, no stories of their happiness, no memories of how it was. The child might even grow up with a different man, acting as father. The thought made him ill, but even more than that, the thought that he had perhaps killed Hermione's ability to love. She had looked so devastated, so lost, so hurt when she left that he was convinced he would never see her smile again.

The relationship that it had taken 12 years to build had been destroyed with one afternoon. The love that it had taken them 7 years to admit to, was gone. Ronald Weasley was alone, and he would remain so for the duration of his life. He knew he would never love another, and he knew that Hermione would never forgive him. As surely as he knew the child in Hermione's womb had been created with love, he also knew that love no longer existed. It was in fact dead, killed by his own hand.