Edited slightly from initial publishing.

Hi! So this is my first Harry Potter fanfiction so be kind, give it a go and if you hate it then I take no offense in you not wanting to read on. Inspired by the fact I've got really into the SSxHG pairing at the moment and I want to have a go at writing it myself. Only don't expect it to be a quick thing – in my mind I reckon it would take time for them to get that far. However those who read on from this first chapter will be rewarded! Ok enough ramblings, enjoy!

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Hermione had little appetite, taking to moving the miscellaneous lumps from her beef stew around the plate with the fork as she avoided looking up. She could hear the forced sounds of appreciation for her culinary efforts from the man sat across the table – though perhaps with a palette such as Ronald Weasley's, one might be able to enjoy her cooking. Her stomach was turning somersaults and her lip was on the verge of splitting as she nibbled it in concentration, trying to think of a less painful way to phrase what she needed to say.

It was the end of August, almost four months since the Second Wizarding War had finally ended, since Harry Potter had finally defeated the Dark Lord himself… and of course since Hermione Granger had finally got the boy she'd desired throughout the past few years, one of her best friends. It had been strange, she remembered, suddenly being able to kiss Ron at a whim, to hold his hand as they walked side by side, to spend all day with him and just revel in each other's company. She recalled when attending the memorial service, that Professor McGonagall and the other teachers of Hogwarts had organised toward the end of May in honour of all who gave their lives, how Ron had kept his arm round her waist the entire time and tried to keep a brave face as she broke down in tears as the names of those she'd known, the names of the dead, were read aloud. The initial joy of defeating the Death Eater's and Voldemort, of eliminating the ever impending threat over the Wizarding World, had overshadowed the losses for her at first. But it was never going to last forever and soon enough the reality of it all came crashing down and it had hit Hermione hard. Ron had stayed with her, helped her back to normality – he'd been her rock.

They're relationship had been such a whirlwind of exhilarating, new emotion that by the middle of June the red head had excitedly proposed, seeing no need to wait any longer. The elated couple had swiftly moved out of the burrow into a little townhouse in London, so that Ron could be near enough to commute to the ministry for Auror training (being part of the Golden Trio had opened numerous doors for them all) whilst Hermione tried to work out what to do with her life. But it hadn't mattered that she didn't know then; she'd still been blinded by this new and exciting infatuation.

The curly-haired witch lifted her hazel orbs from her plate to the pale, freckled face across the table and a pang of guilt hit Hermione in the heart. She wished she still felt that same giddy emotion she'd believed to be love when she looked at him, even wished she'd turned him down and told him to wait a year or two before making any decisions. After waiting so long, feeling such intense longing for Ron, Hermione had convinced herself it was love and she'd really believed being together would confirm this was how she felt...

But ever since they'd officially gotten engaged the young witch was starting realise that perhaps her dreams of this relationship and the truth of it would never match up. Moving in together had made her feel isolated from the outside world and painfully highlighted the flaws in their relationship. Living in such close proximity with Ron, no private space to get away from each other, meant the couple had been arguing almost non-stop, namely about the most trivial things. That was why recently, when her fiancé went to work, Hermione would start thinking about what becoming a Weasley would actually mean, whether that was what she really wanted. She was certain Ron would expect her to be a homemaker, assumed that they would carry on with the Weasley way of life and have a whole brood of children which Hermione would dutifully fuss over and dote upon.

Only Hermione hadn't wanted that for herself, it wasn't her. She had been considering settling for it all the same, for becoming another Molly Weasley, because at that point she'd had no other options and no job or passion to pursue – she'd just had Ron and she told herself that was enough. Then the owl had arrived.

She hadn't been expecting anything so when a handsome barn owl tapped at the living room window on 20th August, Hermione nearly fell off her chair and succeeded in throwing a rather disgruntled Crookshanks to the floor. The letter had held the familiar script of Professor – newly pronounced Headmistress – McGonagall, the same writing that had been on her admissions letter to the school all those years ago. She'd felt a little nostalgic as she slipped her finger under the ruby red wax seal and pulled out the parchment, having convinced the owl to leave with a treat from the bowl Ron had put on the mantel piece, but the sentimental haze soon disappeared and turned steadily to a delighted shock as she read the contents. Minerva McGonagall had put forward the offer for Miss Granger to 'follow in her footsteps as Professor of Transfigurations' starting from 1st September 1998, less than two weeks away. Her previous Head of House seemed to have heard of her current predicament of just what to do with her life for the letter also stated clearly 'you might consider this as either a temporary position or indeed an offer of a more permanent career path'. It had also told her she needed to reply within the week.

And so now Hermione sat there, on the 30th August, having sent her acceptance of the offer exactly a week after she had first got it, having decided upon a new path for her life, one she could wholeheartedly pursue, and having received summons to the school for the following day so that preparations of accommodation and curriculum could be made… Yet she still had not mustered the courage to tell the boy she supposedly loved. The boy she knew could not come with her because the truth was she now knew what her future was and being Mrs Ron Weasley was no longer a part of it.

Her train of thought was broken as the light clang of cutlery against crockery sounded, Ron crossing his knife and fork over an empty plate. His blue eyes looked up and he flashed her a thankful smile before lifting his butter beer and tipping it toward her.

"You're getting better at this cooking stuff, y'know," He commented before sipping his drink. It was then he seemed to notice her food was untouched: "Although apparently you didn't think so!" He laughed before meeting her eyes and finally Ron noticed her anxious look, her lip now bleeding a little although she'd stopped chewing it at least. "Hermione…"

"I need to tell you something," She mumbled, twiddling her thumbs and tapping her knuckles, looking at her own hands with fierce concentration so as not to look as his face dropped upon these words.

"You know I've been thinking… About where my life is going and-"

"Oh bloody hell, Hermione! You had me thinking this was something serious!" Ron sputtered out, chuckling with relief on his words before standing and moving his plate to the sink. Immediately her fear of crushing him was replaced by anger at his dismissive attitude and her posture stiffened at his exclamations. He turned and saw her sour expression at which he held up his hands in mock surrender and leant back against the kitchen counter. "I'm sorry – go ahead…"

"Well before you so rudely interrupted, I was trying to tell you I've finally decided upon something to do with my time-"

"That's brilliant!" He grinned moving round her toward the door out of the room, leaning down to plant a kiss on the top of her head. "I was telling you just the other day, wasn't I? I mean, people aren't gonna say no to having a genius-"

"I wasn't finished, Ronald!" She raised her voice slightly now, becoming annoyed with the constant interruptions. "And if I recall correctly, the other day I also told you that if you kept on interjecting the whole time you'd drive me completely mad!"

"Well maybe if you got to the bloody point once in a while…" Ron grumbled under his breath, but unfortunately he wasn't quite quiet enough.

"How am I supposed to get to the point when I've got you constantly cutting me off?!" Hermione had become exasperated, feeling another full blown argument would start if she didn't calm herself. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before continuing: "Please Ron, I don't want to fight, not now – just sit" She patted the seat next to her and he reluctantly moved from the door back to the table, lounging in the chair with one hand hanging down beside him, the other on the table. Hermione moved her chair in slightly before resting her right hand lightly on his, concealing the left (engagement ring and all) in her own lap.

"Like I was saying, I've finally sorted myself with a job," She paused, mouth partly open, as she tried to muster up some of the Gryffindor courage she should've possessed. She saw Ron was getting impatient and was failing to conceal it, a twitch at the corner of his mouth giving him away, however she was grateful that he did not attempt to push her. Dropping her head to watch their hands she continued: "I got an owl the other day – I mean I didn't even apply for anything - it was so out of the blue that I forgot to mention it to you and it took me the entire week I was given to think it through but I mean honestly once I did have the chance to think I just… I mean I couldn't…" Hermione looked up to lock eyes with him, owing him that much at least. "Ron, Profess- I mean Headmistress McGonagall… well she wrote to me asking if I would take over as Professor of Transfigurations." When she got no reaction from that she added: "And I've said yes."

The whole world seemed to go still for a moment and then, without warning, Ron leaped up and let out a joyful cry, lifting Hermione out her seat and squeezing her into an embrace before spinning them both round, letting out great bellows of laughter as he did so. When he eventually set her down again and she looked into his eyes she couldn't help but wince at the elation she saw in the blue pools in front of her. When he finally recognised the lack of excitement in her own exterior he became confused: "Am I missing something?"

Hermione sighed and looked down to her feet: "Ron, I'm going to be living at Hogwarts-"

"Yeah, I got that much Hermione, I'm not quite that dim," He joked. "We'll just visit each other on weekends and stuff, I'm sure McGonagall won't keep you under lock and key, plus there's the holidays and-"

"It won't work Ron," She practically whispered the words but nonetheless it stopped the boy mid-speech. When she looked up his expression was frozen but her own vision began to blur as her hazel eyes watered. "It's barely working out now, I mean… We're so different, we want different things. You should be with someone… better? I mean someone who wants a big family and someone who ca-"

"I want you," His hand grasped both of hers and Hermione looked up into his intense, eerily clam blue gaze. "It's always been you, Hermione, you know that." Slowly one of his hands reached up to brush her cheek and she closed her eyes, a tear trailing over his fingers as she shook her head but he wouldn't let her speak just yet. "I know these past couple of months have been tough, I mean they're bound to be given everything we've been through, but surely-"

"Ronald stop," She sobbed the words out before sniffing and grasping his wrist to move his hand back down. "We both know that everything these past few months, the drama, the pain, it's been what's kept us together – wanting to hold on to some sense of familiarity in all this madness. But the infatuation, it can all only last so long and-"

"Maybe it was like that for you, but for me it was real Hermione!" Ron blurted out, his own eyes now finally beginning to water and his cheeks colouring. "You're welcome to tell me that for you it's been because of the War and for you it's been to keep stuff normal and for you it was 'infatuation' but don't you try and tell me what I feel!" Tears now made tracks down his own cheeks though his voice remained steady as he grabbed her left hand and shoved it under her nose, holding it up so the ring was right in her face. "You think I would've given you this if I thought this was a passing thing? I love you, Hermione Jean Granger…" He dropped her hand then and took a step back, looking her up and down before shaking his head as though he didn't recognise her anymore. "…I really thought you loved me too."

Hermione could pinpoint the exact moment that his grief turned to anger, the soft pain his eyes hardening before he backed out of the kitchen and stormed up the stairs toward the bedroom. She ran after him, her own sobs filling the house as she followed and saw him grab a suitcase before beginning to heatedly gather some of his things from round the room, slamming open the cupboard door. She moved forward trying to protest: "Ron stop, you don't have to do this, I can lea-"

"No!" He bellowed in her face now. "No, I don't want to be here, I don't want to be anywhere near anything that reminds me of you and your lies!"

Hermione shook her head, managing to whimper out: "What lies?"

"Every time you looked me in the eyes and told me you loved me was clearly a lie, now wasn't it?" Ron's voice now had a venom behind it and there was a dangerous fire in his eyes. "So was all this buying a home together, building a marriage together, building a life together, all of it was just total bollocks, just a game for you, right Hermione? 'Let's play house with Ron for a bit to soothe our own heart without giving a shit about his!'"

At last the bitterness faltered and his voice cracked as hot, fresh tears came once more. He turned away from her with a pained expression clearly unable to look at her anymore and Hermione felt as though a dagger of guilt had been plunged into her heart. "It was never like that Ron," She whispered, reaching out a hand as though to touch his shoulder in comfort. "I never set out to hurt you." He flinched away from her touch as though she'd jabbed him with a hot poker.

"Just leave me to pack in peace." He muttered. Hermione sighed and moved away from the boy to the exit, noting he didn't move a muscle as she did so. She was just about to walk out the door before she caught sight of a glimmer from the corner of her left eye. Once again moving slowly into the room whilst slowly slipping the ring off her finger, she placed the jewellery within his range of sight on the duvet of the bed and then backed off.

As she heard him reach out and stuff the object in his pocket before beginning to aggressively pack once again, she called softly over her shoulder: "I'm sorry". After waiting through a minute of silence and complete still for an answer she finally accepted he would not give a reply and headed downstairs, settling herself on a chair in the living room with a view of the front door to wait.

An hour later Ron came stomping down the stairs and almost didn't notice he was being watched by sad, light brown eyes. He paused with the front door partially open and the part of him inside, the part that no matter what she'd done couldn't help but love Hermione Granger, the part that knew her as his best friend no matter what, begged him to go to her and envelop her in his embrace. But the rest of Ronald Weasley was in such intense pain at her rejection, at her assuming he'd realised the relationship was slipping from his grasp, at the fact that he wasn't enough for her…

"I'll be at the Burrow," He spat. "And that's not an invitation."

And with a slam he was gone. The only real boyfriend Hermione had ever had was gone and he'd left as a broken man, heart-wrenchingly shattered by the girl he had pictured sharing his life with. The thought of it, of hurting one of her best and oldest friends quite possibly beyond repair was too much for her. At last Hermione collapsed into an inconsolable mess of tears and guilt that continued into the wee hours as she contemplated whether breaking off something that wasn't meant to be should really hurt quite so much…

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Hi all! I've gotten really into SSxHG fanfiction at the moment and I just really want to have a go at writing one myself. So please be kind as this is my first Potter fic and reviews are what brighten every authors day so please, if you do like it, either leave a review or even just favourite/follow. I don't know how regularly I can update this cause of school and stuff but I've got loads of ideas so hopefully it'll keep flowing. Thanks for reading :)