Written for spuffypotter1997's Situation and Pairing Challenge. By chance I got my favourite pairing (excluding DeanxLuna).

My Challenge; Hermione/Ron. Situation- The two of them are dating but Hermione cheats on him with another man (you can chose who), (you can also chose who she ends up with in the end)

AND EVERYONE. I GOT MY POTTERMORE EMAIL. YESESYESYES. Review please. Ily.

Echo

'I'm sorry,' she said to him, tears welling in her coffee-coloured eyes. 'I'm so, so sorry. I love you.'

He nodded numbly. 'I know.'

She had closed the distance across the coffee table that separated their hands. Her warm grip felt like hot coals on his clenched fist; he could no longer stand her touch.

'I'm sorry,' he said to him softly, his voice stiff and angry. 'She was crying – and we were alone… and I didn't know what to do.'

'So you fucked her,' he finished coldly, staring out over the shop, avoiding the blue eyes that they both shared.

He felt the man standing beside him shiver, sensed the man's hands ball into mutinous fists. 'It wasn't like that.'

He gave a spiteful laugh, bristling with rage. 'Tell me what it was like then, George?'

'Do you still love me?' she whispered.

'Yes.'

She glanced up at him, smiling through her tears, eyes full of gratitude.

'But I don't want to,' he said; the news she had given him had exhausted him to an extent at which he could not manage a comforting lie. She let go of his hand.

'Are we going to be alright?' his brother asked, his voice absence of emotion.

'I don't know,' he mumbled, continuing to avoid his brother's eyes. 'I don't want us to be.'

'That's not fair, Ron,' said his brother. 'You don't know what it's like. After Fred… I just…'

He gave another cold laugh. 'Do I really not know what that's like? Our brother's dead; do I fuck Angelina? Have you even told her yet? Jesus, George, she pulls you out from drinking yourself to death and you fuck someone else. It's been months since Fred, and she hasn't left your side for a bloody second.'

His brother was silent.

'Are you going to leave me?'

He shook his head.

'Thank you,' she murmured.

'There's not much point when you're already leaving me,' he explained. She looked up at him, panic-stricken. 'Or are you not going back to school anymore?'

She hesitated. 'You know I have to, Ron. Please don't do this again. I know you want me to stay but-'

'No,' he snapped. 'I'm not going to start again. I don't want you to stay anymore.'

'So how did it happen?'

'What?'

'How'd you end up on top of my girlfriend?'

'Ron, don't make me tell you-'

'Just fucking tell me, George,' he spat at his brother. Their voices had, until now, been hushed; now customers from around the shop turned their heads, exchanging glances with each other.

George heaved a deep breath. 'It was her going away party,' he began. 'You had passed out in your bed, after screaming at her for two hours, begging her not to go. Everyone was leaving your flat, and she was crying – saying she didn't want to share a bed with you that night. She said you didn't understand that leaving wasn't just hard for you. And… and Angelina was out with Alicia… and I just – I just can't be alone anymore, Ron.'

Ron made a derisive murmur, and shook his head. 'Fred's gone, George. You're fucked. But you've got to stop making it an excuse to fuck up everyone else too.'

'I should go,' she breathed, shaking with tears. 'I need to get my books – get my robes fitted.'

'Yeah.'

'I'll write to you.'

'Okay.'

'Will you write back?'

'I don't know.'

She gave a sob, shakily getting to her feet, wobbling like they were her first steps. 'I love you.' And she turned away; in spite of himself, his eyes latched onto her, trained to her movement as she left the coffee-shop, discreetly wiping her face of any tears. Her words echoed in his ears, a sickening reminder that he may never hear them again.

'You should go,' said his brother, his voice low and pained. 'You can't work here anymore.'

'Good.'

He moved out from behind the counter, walking towards the door hastily.

'Wait, Ron?'

'What?' he asked, without turning.

'Are you going to tell everyone? Mum and dad… Bill, Ginny…'

Ron ground his teeth; he liked to spin round, to march to the counter, to pump his fist into his brother's freckled face, to bruise his bright blue eyes and smash in that mouth that he was sure would never twitch into the crooked grin again. But he didn't, because with his brother's and his girlfriend's words life had been reduced to a trivial series of misadventures.

'No,' he replied, his voice quivering with fury. 'Home's already mental; I don't need to tell them this.'

Ahh, I don't usually like Hermione with the Weasley twins, but it was the only situation that seemed relatively fic-worthy.

I'm sorry. I really, really tried. It was very difficult. Please, please, please don't criticize. X