Happy Ending
Summary: After the war, everyone expected a happily ever after. Those dreams proved much, much better than the reality they lived in. A series of oneshots centered on the misfortunes suffered by our favorite characters.
Chapter 1: Monster
"You monster!" she shrieked, still barely heard above the pounding rain and thunderclaps.
Ron's hands were kept out of sight by the folds of the unknown bint's skirt, his body flush against hers as the blush began to creep down his neck. An empty bottle of vodka lay on the bed beside the two would-be lovers, indicating that Ron was well past the point of sober when he began cheating on his fiancé.
Hermione was still sopping wet as she strode into their shared bedroom, her mind on autopilot. Ron, who was beginning to realize the gravity of the situation despite the fact that he could barely count the fingers on his left – or was that his right? – hand, quickly scrambled off of the nameless blonde, but not before Hermione landed a resounding slap to his cheek.
The blow came with such force and was such a shock that it knocked him off of the bed and onto his backside, probably aided by the reaction-time diminishing effects of the alcohol.
"Hermy- I mean, 'Mione-" he began to slur.
"Shut up," Hermione hissed, rage now coursing through her as she clenched her jaw. "Just shut the fuck up, you bastard. And you!" she rounded on the poor, unsuspecting girl who had viewed the escalating scene with an ever-increasing sense of terror, "get the FUCK out of my house."
The girl hesitated, and stupidly looked at Ron for aid.
Hermione snapped.
She grabbed the girl's hair and yanked her off of the bed, slamming her knees into the floor. She then walked to the door, dragging the struggling and flailing girl behind her, and vaguely noted that the girl needed to bleach her hair; her mouse brown roots were beginning to show. Hermione threw the girl bodily from the room, her heretofore unknown strength causing the girl to slam into the wall.
Wisely, the blonde then got up and ran out of the house.
Ron, by this point, had gotten up. The sight of Hermione on a rampage had sobered him considerably. As his fiancé turned around to face him, her eyes blazing, he began to back away, which only served to further infuriate the bushy-haired bookworm.
He was up against the wall when suddenly the life seemed to blow out of her. Her shoulders slumped, and she halted her advance, instead looking around the room in a rather dazed way, her eyes now glistening.
"Hermione-" Ron began, not sure of what to say.
"Fuck off," she murmured, still looking lost, but his words at least gave her body purpose. She walked over to the closet, ignoring his clothes as she yanked out a suitcase. She pulled her wand out of the red leather purse that still dangled off of her shoulder, and, ignoring Ron's reactionary flinch, flicked her wand at the closet. Her clothes flew neatly into the suitcase; once it was full, it closed and latched of its own volition.
Hermione then looked up at her fiancé. Her face was impassive, a mask.
"I'm going."
Ron shook his head. "No, Hermione- where would you go? Please, let me explain."
Hermione sneered. "You can explain tomorrow, when I'm back for the rest of my things. Although, given my present mood, I don't recommend you actually being around for that."
She turned on her heel, levitating the suitcase in front of her with her wand, pausing in the hallway at the sound of Ron's whimper.
"Don't leave. Please."
Without turning around, she forced a response out of her gritted teeth.
"Goodbye, Ron."