Disclaimer: I don't own Ron. I don't own Hermione. I don't own Harry, Luna, Draco, Krum, or Lavender. Also, I don't own Neville, the Weasleys, or Lucius Malfoy. That should cover it.
AN: This is pretty much my first fic, and certainly my first fic on here. Please be kind, and REVIEW, NICE PEOPLE!
Hermione sat on her bed. She couldn't believe what she had done. She never should have accepted the proposal. Sure, Draco had been kind and attentive to her during their two years of dating. He showed her a side of himself that she never knew was there. But seeing Ron's face when she accepted the ring had broken Hermione's heart, and she knew she made the wrong choice. Ron had been there for her for years; they comforted each other throughout their breakups with Viktor Krum and Lavender. They each knew how the other felt at Harry's funeral, surreal as it was. He and Hermione had even come up with that scheme to get Luna and Neville together How could she have done this to him? At their four-year class reunion, in front of all their friends, she had happily accepted Draco's ring. It was beautiful. But she glanced at her best friend's face and her smile disappeared. She didn't get a chance to talk to him; he left before the toast.
Hermione was listless for a few weeks until, finally, she knew what she had to do. She also knew that this would alienate her muggle parents. They loved her, but they desperately wanted her to marry into a wealthy family (certainly not the Weasleys), whether it be a magical family or a muggle one. It would also put her on a blacklist for much of the wizarding world, as Lucius Malfoy had a seemingly endless supply of connections. Although she knew all this, she still knew she couldn't go through with this farce of an engagement.
Noticing the sun rise, Hermione realized she had not slept at all the previous night. She had been pondering the best way to handle her delicate situation. She couldn't imagine how she must have looked with bags under her eyes and her hair, which was usually a wild bush anyway, must have been out of control. She couldn't take the time to take a shower, she had to talk to him now. E-mail seemed too impersonal, owls took too long. She decided to call him. Before she could stop herself, she picked up the phone and called the now-familiar number for the last time. After a few rings, Draco picked up the phone. He wasn't a morning person, but who cared? She had to get her thoughts out. "Hello," he answered, sounding groggy. "Hey, it's me. We need to talk."