Of Spilt Milk and Cheerios
Summary: Ron and Hermione Weasley have been married for nearly ten years. But, when the happy couple realizes they are not so happy anymore, how will their family cope with divorce?
Disclaimer: I do not own, nor do I claim any rights to, Harry Potter or any associated themes, characters, places, or plots. This is for entertainment purposes only. No profit is being made from this story. No copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: Yes, I'm one of those writers. I am starting to remember my problem with fanfiction all those years ago. When I start writing, I get 3 or 4 plot bunnies at the same time and I CANNOT stop writing. Good news is, I have been keeping this one under wraps and it is already finished. This is extremely short, only about 7 chapters long (in my editing, I have been adding details and I cannot decide if it will be 6 or 7 chapters, and I have not decided if I want to write an epilogue. I will be posting this story every 2 weeks, to give you guys something in between postings for my other stories which unfortunately are not finished and it is taking longer to get them out.
I have not seen this idea on fanfiction as of yet, and I have done about 4 searches. It is not typical of plots I have seen, and I thoroughly hope you guys enjoy it. As always, please remember to review because it makes my day that much more wonderful!
Chapter One
The hinges of the old door creaked loudly as it was forced open. As the man let go, it snapped back, banging against the frame. The woman winced at the noise; the door seemed to be channeling the tension of the house, retaliating in anger. She heard his footsteps as he crossed the wooden porch, approaching the steps leading into their garden. She pulled her jumper tighter around her frame, protecting herself from the cold wind that began to sweep around her. It had snowed the night before, leaving a thin blanket of white to rest on every available surface. She had not bothered with a warming charm when she had first ventured out, choosing instead to sit, unprotected, on the snow-covered steps. She had given him the space she knew he needed—the space she felt she needed even more herself.
"Well, I suppose this is it," the thick voice said from behind her. She did not turn to look at him, closing her eyes at the harshness of his words. He was detaching himself, she knew, but it did not make it any easier. He had spent the last hour packing his things, temporarily moving them to Grimmauld Place, until he could find a place of his own. "I'll be here at six on Friday to pick up Rose and Hugo," he added. The woman nodded, and waited to hear his footsteps once more.
Several silent moments passed before she realized he was still standing behind her. Slowly, she turned her head to catch him studying her. It only lasted a second, as he immediately noticed she had turned around. He turned away quickly, headed towards the door.
"Wait…" she whispered to the man's back.
He stopped, but did nothing further to acknowledge her. She tried to say something else, but the words caught in her throat. He sighed in response to her silence and disappeared back into the house. She did not realize she was crying until she felt a single tear fall off the tip of her nose, landing on the snow beneath her.
Anyone who knew the couple would insist they were made for each other. After all, their friendship was legendary, and no one was surprised when it finally budded into a romantic relationship. It had been easy when they were younger. They had learned quickly that tomorrow was not guaranteed, and they seized their opportunity for a chance at everlasting happiness. Their marriage had been a 'spur of the moment' idea. Yet, it was not an unreasonable decision. They had known each other for almost ten years, and had been a couple for nearly two. The next logical step in their relationship was marriage, after all.
It had been shortly after the new year when he asked her. They had been visiting her parents for the day, and had been out on a walk. As they strolled hand in hand, laughing freely, she had shown him the chapel where her parents were married. He had smiled widely as she detailed the story of her parents' courtship and when she had finished, he remarked, "Let's do it!" She did not question his spontaneity, accepting immediately with a large smile. A month later, they promised their lives to each other in front of a small group of friends and family.
That had been over nine years ago. In fact, their ten year wedding anniversary was five short months away. This anniversary was supposed to be special—they were going to renew their vows, have the wedding ceremony they could not afford when they were twenty, with everyone they knew in attendance. They had been planning it since their first anniversary all of those years ago. It had been his idea, after attending the wedding of her second cousin. He had been mesmerized by all of the elaborate details and had spent the evening telling her exactly how they could change the 'muggle' things her cousin had done to be more elaborate, more spectacular. He had promised her the wedding of her dreams and they decided their ten year anniversary would be the perfect time to do something extravagant. The large, poufy gown, the large reception hall, food for days, and music that played all night. She had told him their wedding had been perfect, but he insisted she deserved something better.
But now, that something better would not be happening. The dress she had purchased three months ago had been pushed to the back of their closet. The invitations they had spent months searching for would never make it to the printers, and the band, caterer, and photographer would all have to be cancelled, deposits forfeited. The wedding of their dreams would remain just that—a dream.
She was not naïve; she knew her marriage was far from perfect. She sometimes wondered if they had made a mistake—if they had married too soon, too young. They were both just starting careers, forming new lives, new personalities—personalities free of fear and danger. She had not realized it then, but it was if they were new people, learning not only things about each other, but of themselves too. They had spent their entire childhood fighting for their lives and the lives of others that they never really had a chance to grow up. But, with all of that danger gone, they began to grow, began to change. Somehow, the love once believed to be so strong began to crack, and now, it seemed far beyond repair.
The first few years of their marriage were spent more apart than together. They were both very much immersed in their lives at work. They both left extremely early in the morning, barely sharing breakfast, and returned very late at night—both too tired to eat supper. They would fall into bed almost immediately, but hardly for intimate reasons, instead sound asleep before their heads even hit the pillows. They worked six days a week, both desperate to prove themselves more than just The Chosen One's best friends. Their schedules became more and more opposite, and on the rare occasion they shared a Sunday off together, they travelled to his parents' house for brunch and afternoon tea with his family.
Five years into their marriage and many nieces and nephews later, they decided it was their time to become parents. Their jobs had settled down, both in better routines—at least enough to where they ate dinner together every night. But still, the time they spent together was short, and deciding to try for a baby left little time for mindless chatter or carefree outings. Their focus shifted from work to the bedroom, and after a few short months, their goal had been achieved. They were expecting a baby the next April, and overjoyed, everything seemed to be right with their world.
The birth of their daughter was agreeably the best thing that had ever happened to the pair. They loved her unconditionally. However, naturally, her arrival meant they spent even less time with each other than before. Although they were always together, Rose was very demanding, and took away all of their time and energy. The dinners and intimate time they been sharing again fell by the wayside. However, they hardly realized they were neglecting each other and went about their lives as if all was normal.
Their second child, Hugo, had been an accident. She had recently been promoted to the law department, and he was second in command of the Aurors. Any time spent away from the Ministry was spent with Rose, who was in her terrible twos and proved to live up to her Weasley name. She could give her cousins a run for their money when she was upset. However, neither was upset when they discovered they would be new parents once more, and both were excited when they were told it would be a boy. Yet, neither had been prepared for the demands of two children, and it was then that they began to realize just how serious the problems in their marriage were. They had spent years pushing them away, ignoring them for what they really were, but now, there was no denying the inevitable.
They simply did not know each other and they had not known each other for years. Ignoring their problems proved impossible with tensions so high in their home, a screaming toddler, and a newborn. When they spoke now, their tones were always accusatory, angry, and drained. They could never agree and thought the other was always wrong. After a year of living this way, they had decided the night before they could not do it anymore and that it was over. He had agreed to pack his things, and reluctantly called his sister and brother-in-law for support. He did not want to bother them with his own problems—they had three young ones of their own—but he certainly did not want his mother discovering the end of his marriage just yet, and his brothers, although he loved them dearly, would not only insist he was being an idiot, but would call their mother as well. There was no question about her staying in the house and keeping the children for the majority of the time. His missions were dangerous and he was sometimes gone for days and weeks at a time. She had accumulated so much leave at the ministry that she would be able to take three weeks off until they could sort out the legalities and fall into a new routine.
Snow began to fall again, and the woman suddenly realized her children would be waking up soon. She stood, breathing deeply, trying to prepare herself for the day that lay ahead. As she made her way inside and into the sitting room, she quietly picked up the blanket her husband had folded and placed on top of the couch. Their decision had been made late into the evening, and he could not leave so late at night. He had walked away from their bedroom sadly, taking the extra blanket for the rocking chair in the corner. She wondered briefly if he had been able to sleep the night before. Although she had tossed and turned all night, she doubted her husband had much trouble. He could fall asleep regardless of the circumstances.
Suddenly hearing a loud wail, she dropped the blanket back onto the couch and headed down the short hallway to her son's bedroom. The door was halfway opened—no doubt her husband had snuck in before leaving—and she could see Hugo had pulled himself up. His fists were wound tightly around the bars of the crib and he had his head facing up, mouth opened into the perfect 'O' shape, screaming as loudly as he could. This was his customary good morning. He was a quiet baby for the most part, sleeping throughout the night and rarely whining during the day. But, first thing in the morning was his time to be loud. He wanted to ensure everyone knew he was awake. She made her way across the room quickly, holding her arms out, ready for Hugo to reach out to her. However, he only continued to wail, never removing his hands from his bed.
"Hugo," she whispered softly, trying to calm him. Rose was surely still asleep, and it was better left that way. The longer Rose slept, the longer she could focus on her unhappy youngest child. "Shhh," she soothed.
Hugo cries turned into heaves and she scooped him out of the crib, hoping to rock him. He squirmed in her grasp, but after a moment began to calm down. Finally, he looked at her and said, "Da, da, da, da."
She looked at him sadly and shook her head. "Daddy's not here right now, Hugo," she tried to explain, but naturally it was no use. Hugo was too young to understand what was happening to his parents.
"Da, da, da," Hugo repeated, and began to squirm again. His eyes were still filled with his morning tears and his bottom lip quivered.
"Daddy will see you in a few days, sweetheart," she whispered. "It's just me, you, and Rosie now." And as he began to wail again, she held him tight and let her own tears fall freely with Hugo's.
Author's Note Thank you for reading! :)