A/N: This is my first fanfic. Read and review, please?
I woke with a start; the window was tapping and it didn't sound much like rain. Grumbling and stumbling, I made my way to the window, where Pig was pecking at at the glass. I slid open the window and the owl quickly dropped the rolled letter from his talons and flew off, before I could even repay him for his long journey with his favorite owl treats. His behaviour concerned me though; Pig's quick absence indicated that the sender didn't care for a response.
I unraveled the surprisingly short scroll and glared.
Hermione,
Charlie's wife is pregnant, so I'm leaving. I'm meant to be the godfather and I couldn't bare to say goodbye. Especially tomorrow.
-Ron.
This was unlike him. Well, at least he remembered tomorrow was our 6 month anniversary. It didn't matter too much for me though, seeing as how I wasn't feeling the way I used to. In fact, the whole relationship was about Ronald. He wanted me to be Mrs. Weasley, he wanted children, and he wanted me to be the stay-at-home housewife that was his mom. I guess it's for the best.
I gasped at my heartlessness. I loved Ron, right...?
Maybe a hot shower would help with my restlessness. Anyone who knew me, would know that I like mornings. I like nights too, but mornings was when the people were asleep, it was quiet, and it was also a perfect time to read a book.
I slipped out of Harry's old Quidditch jersey, which I wore to bed at night because of the comfort, and walked towards the small bathroom in my one-bedroom loft, but not before stopping at the mirror. I was getting a bit thinner, but I suppose that's the running. I wouldn't dare play Quidditch, although I know that it is the easiest way to get in shape. Being around Ronald made it easy to stay thing because watching him scarf down food made me lose my appetite. Him and Harry would laugh, had they been here.
Harry. Him and Ginny got engaged, obviously. It helped ease the tension which lingered because of the missing Fred. I'm surprised how Ron and Ginny and Arthur coped with it. George and Mum- er...Mrs. Weasley did not do well. Nearly every time someone said Quidditch or beater, she cried. I miss Freddy too, but... I sighed. The hot water from this shower was doing me good. It cleared my mind of thoughts of Ronald, at least for now.
Suddenly, the fireplace in the living room crackled. The one sound that was distinctly the crackling of the green flame. Somebody was at my house! Knowing my friends, it was probably Harry or Ginny. I turned the hot water off, spelled my hair dry, and slipped into my sweats, which were strictly reserved for weekends with friends. It seemed right though. I'd need a good hug after this oddly fortunate thing with Ron. I'm starting to believe that I'd probably have left Ron anyways.
Looking as presentable as I could while wearing sweatpants and a tank top, I ran down the stairs.
"Granger?" It was the unmistakable sound of Draco Malfoy.
"Malfoy," I responded coolly. "What possessed you to floo to my loft. On a weekend, even." I tried to remember that the war was over, but it was hard when my conscious mind actively reminded me that this was the boy who stood there watching me as his Aunt Bella tortured me. But the war is over, Hermione. It's over, I reminded myself.
