Hermione slipped off her high-heeled shoes and rested her head against the outside of her and Ron's flat in south London. She'd had a long day. Coriander McDowell, her boss at the Ministry had been particularly lewd and yet another stack of Hermione's bills for house-elf liberation had been vetoed.
Hermione gripped her keys in her hand, not quite willing to go into the flat yet. It had been 5 years since the Wizarding War, and Ron still hadn't managed to keep a job. Sure, he'd worked at WWW with George for a while, but then Lee Jordan joined as a partner and Ron quit.
She was sure that Ron was being overshadowed, as he always had been, by Harry. A rising star at the Auror office, newlywed to Ginny, who was pregnant, and generally accepted and loved as the wizard who saved them all from Voldemort, Harry was vastly more successful than Ronald Weasley. The only accomplishment under Ron's belt was the Leaky Cauldron record for most chips he could fit in his mouth at once (42.)
Hermione sighed and resigned herself to not think about her underachieving, lackadaisical, utterly unambitious boyfriend and turned the key.
Ron sat on the couch, a massive bowl of Bertie Bott's beside him, staring glassy-eyed at the telly. A few months ago, Hermione had decided to put a "tello-vizzy" in their flat, but now Ron just wasted away on the couch. Not that he was doing anything much different before.
"Hey, 'Mione." Ron said lazily, never taking his eyes off the rerun of Fawlty Towers.
"Ronald." Hermione snapped, dumping her bag and shoes unceremoniously on the floor.
"You know, this tello-vizzy really is great." Ron shoved a handful of jelly beans into his mouth.
"I'm glad you like it." Hermione said sarcastically, pulling a clip out of her hair, which exploded into a bushy tangle of curls.
"Hmm." Ron grunted. "So how about some supper?"
Hermione snapped. "No."
"Sorry. But seriously, meatloaf would be nice."
Hermione stomps off and casts a quick Muffliato on the doors before starting to yell. "You know, Ron? I deserve a 'hello, Hermione, how was your day?' not 'get me some food.'"
"I'm sorry, Hermione. It's just I've had a long day." Ron rubbed uselessly at a stain on his sweatpants.
"Excuse me?!" Hermione shouted in disbelief. "You've had a long day?! What, did six hours of telly wear you out?"
"Well…" Ron stammered, but he had no excuse.
"If anyone's had a long day," Hermione continued, "it's been ME! I went into work, where my boss makes all sorts of inappropriate remarks, piles a bunch of paperwork on me, and ignores all my efforts to actually help house-elves and goblins. You know how many bills I've written?! Ninety-four! Over five years, I have written almost a hundred bills lobbying for the liberation of magical creatures and every single one has been rejected. Then I come home, to what? A rude, demanding boyfriend who doesn't give a damn about me, other than for food or sex!"
"Hermione, I'm sorry, I've been an arse." Ron stood up, apologetic. "Look, I'll get myself a job, maybe I can go work for George again or something, I don't know."
"Ron, I'm sorry." Hermione bit her lip. "But how many times have you said that? How often have you promised me that you'll get your act together when all you really do is sit around and eat and watch telly?"
"I mean it, this time, honest." Ron gesticulated wildly. "I love you, 'Mione." He added softly.
Hermione shook her head. "I can't do this anymore. We're done, Ronald, for good."
She walked into their bedroom. Even though Ron had pretty much trashed the whole flat, Hermione had made it her personal mission to keep the bedroom clean. She looked around sadly at the never-wilting roses Ron had bought on their first anniversary and an old framed photo of her, Ron, and Harry right after the Wizarding War.
I was so happy back then…Hermione thought. Voldemort gone, my whole life in front of me, being with Ron back when he still cared.
She shook her head. Ron wasn't the same person he used to be. Hermione pulled her unruly hair into a braid and changed into jeans and a t-shirt with a Hemingway quote on it, then cast a charm to gather and shrink all of her belongings into a single suitcase.
When she came out of the bedroom, Ron was pacing nervously around the living room.
"Fuck it. Please don't go, Hermione." He looked up anxiously at Hermione, like an apology and puppy-dog eyes would get rid of nearly five years of building tension.
Hermione set down her suitcase. "Look, Ron, I loved you, I really did. But you're not the same person, you're not the man I fell in love with all those years ago. I'm sorry, but I need to go."
"Wait." Hermione turned around just as she was about to walk out.
"Look, Ron, you're not going to get another chance."
"Okay. I get it. I fucked up. But…can we still be friends?" Ron looked like he was 11 years old again, trying to make amends for calling Hermione a know-it-all.
Hermione sighed. I don't know. Maybe." She walked up to Ron and kissed him one last time. "Goodbye, Ronald."
The thud of the shutting door was followed immediately by the telltale CRACK of apparition.
Hermione wiped a tear from her cheek. She'd just ended a five year relationship and possibly lost one of her two best friends. I mean, sure, it had been a shitty relationship at the end, but that didn't change the fact that Ron had been really sweet when they were young and still in love.
At first, Hermione wasn't really sure where she was. But where else? She thought as she recognized Harry and Ginny's home outside Godric's Hollow. The tall grass swished softly in the night and a single light glowed in a quaint wizarding cottage. A very pregnant Ginny sat on the couch reading. Harry came up behind her, his hair sticking up in a million different places and gently kissed the top of Ginny's flaming orange head.
Hermione stood alone in the backyard, holding her suitcase and crying. Harry and Ginny just looked so happy, she couldn't interrupt them. With a CRACK, Hermione spun on her heel and disapparated again.
She was standing outside her parent's house in Bristol. The lights were off. Hermione walked up to the door, hoping her mum and dad were okay. Panic from before the Wizarding War filled Hermione briefly before she remembered that it was a Tuesday. Bingo night. Of course her parents weren't home.
Hermione wiped away another tear and sat on the front step of her parents' house. Where to go, where to go…It's not like Hermione had a lot of friends, just Harry and Ron, really. She was close with all the Weasleys after years of Sunday dinners, but did it even make sense to go running to the Burrow? Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were taking care of Teddy since Andromeda was taking a vacation.
Hermione supposed she could just go to the Leaky Cauldron and get a room, but honestly, her job at the Ministry didn't pay all that well, and she could use a little more comfort than what Tom the bartender could provide.