A/N:
Disclaimer: These characters are not mine, they are JK Rowlings, and the titles of the chapters are all song titles from various artists. I will cite each one at the beginning of each chapter. This one is a Red Hot Chili Peppers song. Also, note that there are a few direct quotes/references from the television show Grey's Anatomy in this story.

Please note that this story jumps around in time a lot--any jump in time will be indicated clearly by a break looking like -ooooooooooooooooo-.

Enjoy!

Chapter 1:

I Could Have Lied

"Ronald, honestly...!" exclaimed Hermione with a gasp of surprised delight. As the red-head buried his face into her hair and neck, she ran her hands along his familiar, strong, and sturdy frame lightly. Another sigh escaped her lips as she felt his hand fluttering along the hemline of her skirt, touching her skin with his fingertips almost teasingly.

He let out a groan as he allowed his hand to caress her breast and stomach, his lips rising to meet hers as he pressed his body against her. The cold stone wall felt good against her body, and she could breathe in the scent of his hair and sweat as he slowly extracted every ounce of arousal from her body.

From somewhere far away, just as she curled his leg around his and let herself succumb fully to his pleasure, they heard the chiming of the clock, striking seven, the sun casting its dying rays on their faces through the window. They broke apart, the sense of tension permeating the air around them.

Breathing heavily, the two bore into each others' eyes for what seemed like an eternity, until Ron finally cracked a smile, saying, "It's a shame we didn't get to follow through with that."

Hermione leaned her head against the wall, breathing in deeply, also smiling. "I don't even remember the last time you kissed me like that..."

Kissing her on the forehead, he said, "If I knew fighting with you and getting you all riled up like that would get a rise like that out of us..."

"I wouldn't even think of doing it more often," said Hermione in a would-be stern voice, if she wasn't nearly panting. "Although making up is rather... intense." She allowed herself a coy smile, which was very rare for Hermione.

"I'll be seeing you after practice, though?" he said, as they flattened their wrinkled, pressed-on clothing and fixed their hair. "Maybe we can finish this later? Prefects bathroom's never taken Sunday night, you know..." He slid his arm around her suggestively as they started walking down the corridors towards the Quidditch pitch.

"Sure," she said with a smile. "I'll be there at ten."

"Great," said Ron excitedly. "I can't wait." With a quick kiss, he took off with his broom saying, "See you! Love you!"

"Bye!" said Hermione, smiling.

Once he was safely around the corner, red hair and strong arms out of sight, her heart collapsed in on itself in a heap. She bit her lip, turned on her heel and strode down the corridor, attempting to look purposeful, and not as if she was going to burst out into tears because of her failing relationship with Ron Weasley.

Finally, she found an empty classroom to sit and think in. Walking in quietly and checking carefully to make sure it was totally devoid of human life, she closed and locked the door behind her. The tears began to flow freely from her face. In the distance, she could hear Harry barking orders to each of his players. Then, she unmistakably found Ron, hovering around the far goalpost, awaiting the Quaffle to come his way. The tears came harder now.

Stupid... stupid and silly of him to lie about such a thing... she thought. It's not my fault...

-oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo-

It all started when she had found a note tucked away in his Advanced Potions book two weeks ago. It was just a piece of parchment with a few words on it written in girlish, loopy handwriting. The words shocked her as she read them, and immediately she connected the writing with the only person it could have possibly been.

It read simply, "Ron, I would love for us to try it again."

Hermione saw it and fumed. It had to be Lavender Brown, Ron's only ex-girlfriend. What was this "it" that Lavender spoke of? "It" could have been possibly anything, and she allowed herself a moment before she jumped to the most apparent conclusion. Surely it couldn't have been what Ron promised Hermione he had never "done" before. He had explained to her a few times that he had barely done anything but "get a good snog in" with Lavender. Hermione begged him not to elaborate on that point, and he seemed more than happy to oblige.

However, when Hermione approached him with the wayward note in his Potions book, something changed in his usual playful, honest expression. He faltered for words and couldn't look at her directly.

"Erm," he started weakly, "she was tutoring me in Potions earlier this year. I needed help."

Hermione's jaw dropped in amazement as well as increasing horror. "Ron," said Hermione, trying to rein it in, "Lavender is abysmal at Potions."

Ron shifted his weight onto his other foot and just stared at the top of Hermione's forehead. Hermione, too, could not bring herself to look him directly into the eyes. Tension skyrocketed as the two sat in silence.

"You and I both know that this 'it' in the note refers to something else entirely."

Ron shifted his eyes away from Hermione guiltily, turning away and shrugging. "Look, Hermione, it really isn't what you think."

Hermione spluttered for the correct, coherent words that would express the fuming, flaming thoughts speeding through her mind without using too many expletives. "Ron... I..." she began, only to cut herself off by striding up to his face and staring into his revealing eyes. In a deathly whisper, she said, "Tell me. NOW."

Ron flung himself down in one of the plush chairs of the common room and said, "It was when were dating, Lavender and I." He put his head in his hands and ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. "You never really asked the extent of our... y'know...relations... so I never really told you what actually happened between us."

Hermione sat opposite him as he poured out his last secret to her in great, horrific detail. Her jaw was dropped and her hand covered her gaping mouth as tears streamed from her eyes. He had lied to her about something he trusted him on with her entire heart as well as body. As he finished, again, they sat in that unbearable silence. The tears stopped, only to be replaced by a suppressed rage that stemmed from the shattered trust.

Ron, at a loss of what to do, took Hermione into his arms. At that very instant, she shoved him bodily in the opposite direction, eyes seething with anger.

"You!" she shrilled loudly as she strode across the room and into his face. She restrained her tiny, ineffectual fists from pounding him and instead just stared him down. It was effective enough to scare him, however, her intense stare could not even begin to express the agony of broken trust that raged in her mind and soul.

"Hermione, I'–"

"You what?!" she yelled. "You couldn't be bothered to tell me about how you jumped into bed with Lavender? After I've opened up my secrets to you?! After I've trusted you with my innermost thoughts?! What, were you that worried that I wouldn't put out for you if you told me the truth?!" She turned away from him, throwing up her arms, enraged. "And you say, you dare say, it meant nothing to you... that I mean more... yet, yet..." She spluttered for words.

Ron approached her, concerned for both her well-being as well as his safety. Again, he tried for the embrace.

"NO!" she roared with a voice and vehemence that he had never heard from her. "Do not TOUCH me!" She was panting now, and it became harder and harder for her to hold back from hitting him. "If it didn't mean anything," she said in a low growl, "then how come you didn't tell me? And how do I know that all of...this... the sex–HOW do I know that I'm no different, now? How am I supposed to know if you are telling the truth?" She breathed heavily and held back sobs. "A-and how can I trust you? You knew this was important to me and I gave you an out... I wanted you to tell me so we could have that honesty... and now..."

Ron bit his lip as he made a point to stare into her eyes. He knew he had made the mistake of not telling her right from the start. He was afraid that she would think less of him. Eventually, he did resolve to tell her... someday. However, he did not take into account that Lavender may not hold up her bargain of the deal of not speaking about it (or in this case, writing about it) with him or anyone, again. He remembered seeing the note and not thinking much of it. His experience with Lavender was... well, it wasn't awful... but he was happy with Hermione and more comfortable. Most importantly, he loved Hermione in a different way... in the way that mattered. Yet, was there anything he could do, now, to stop her anger?

"Ron, what is a relationship without trust?" she said quietly.

"Well," he began in small voice, "Hermione, you know, I was going to tell you, I just needed to find a time where–"

This seemed to be the wrong thing to say. "No, Ron, I'm sorry." She got up in a hurry and said, "A relationship without trust is simply not a relationship. At least, not in my book. If I can't trust you... which I can't at this moment in time... I just... can't..."

Ron snapped to attention at once. "You can't what?" he asked very seriously. Hermione looked away at once and walked towards the door.

"Hermione," he repeated, "You can't what?"

"Ron, I'm sorry," she said sadly, as if she were ripping out her own heart. "I can't be with a liar."

Ron stood there for a moment, staring at the empty doorframe as she walked out. He walked to his bed, laid down, and only when he caught a glimpse of her photograph waving to him out of the corner of his eye, did he burst into tears as his own heart tasted agony.