Written for Payday - Prompts: Ron/Hermione, "Picture to Burn" - Taylor Swift

Written for Hogwarts, Ancient Runes A5 - Write about a character trying to overcome something. Alternatively, write about Hermione Granger.

Ancient Runes - Might be a little abstract, but Hermione/Ron are trying to overcome their differences and do so by parting ways.

I realize you love yourself more than you could ever love me

So go and tell your friends that I'm obsessive and crazy

"My mother cooks the best scrambled eggs in the world," announced Ron one night as the Trio dined at his and Hermione's flat.

Both Harry and Hermione visibly tensed, and the latter pursed her lips, staring at the eggs that she had painstakingly made that morning.

"I hope, then, that my eggs will be at least subpar," she said, and if Ron heard the edge in her voice, he didn't show it; Harry, however, shot Hermione a questioning glance that she pretended not to see.

Ron poked his fork into an egg but still did not lift it to his mouth.

"Ron," said Harry, when he and Hermione were halfway through their eggs and he still hadn't touched his plate, "aren't you going to eat?"

"I would," said Ron. "But I'm not hungry."

"You're always hungry," said Hermione, and even Ron couldn't miss the iciness in her tone as she added, "Except, of course, when we eat at home."

"Well no offence, Hermione, but your cooking isn't exactly good-"

Hermione slammed down her fork and it clattered onto her plate, the table, and then the floor. She made no move to pick it up, instead standing and saying loudly, "I'm sorry I'm not a professional chef!"

"I didn't say you had to be, I just said-"

"I don't see you cooking, anyway! You complain about my cooking being bad when you don't even take the effort-"

"I don't know the first thing about cooking, you know that!"

"Neither did I, but there's this thing called reading-"

Ron rolled his eyes at Harry, who was cleverly observing the fight with caution. "Well, you like to read-"

"That doesn't mean I like to spend hours trying to cook something that will meet your standards-"

"You're just trying to place the blame on me! It's the girl's job to cook, anyway."

Hermione's jaw dropped open at that, and she pushed the chair behind her so it toppled over. "It's the female's job to cook? Is that what you said? I can't believe this!" She stomped away from the table and began to sweep up the cracked eggshells on the kitchen counter into the trash. For a moment, she didn't speak, angrily scooping up shells. When she finished and put her hands in fists by her sides, she growled, "I can't believe I'm living with such a sexist person."

With that, she stormed out of the room. A door slammed in the hallway, and silence at the breakfast table was nearly palpable as Ron stared angrily at his plate and Harry, filling the room with clatters on his plate, attempted to look as if the whole ordeal hadn't happened.

"She overreacts to everything," Ron finally mustered out, his face red with fury. "Every little thing I say - it's like she enjoys making me angry. She's impossible!"

"She's Hermione," said Harry carefully. "And don't you think you were a bit callous about her cooking? At least she tries."

Ron rounded on Harry, his blue eyes flashing. "Are you implying that I don't-"

"I'm not implying anything," said Harry, scraping his plate clean. "I just think that maybe you overreacted too."

"It's not my fault she's bloody impossible to deal with. She's obsessed with her idea of perfect, you know?"

Harry, who was well aware of the fact that the only problem that Hermione really had was that she didn't understand Ron, and vice versa, nodded. He had, after all, become accustomed to the two's bickering since Hogwarts.

If you're missing me,

You'd better keep it to yourself

'Cause coming back around here

Would be bad for your health

The difference between the Egg Morning and the rest of their bickering, however, was that it incited a whole two months' worth of silence and coldness towards each other.

The days were getting restless now. Hermione could not return to the little flat she and Ron shared without wondering if they were going to be able to carry a civil conversation anymore. She couldn't sit at the dinner table, her food growing cold with every desolately silent second, without wondering if normal relationships were silent and uncommunicative.

She couldn't live with Ron without wondering how many days were left in their relationship.

But as the days dragged on but the weeks flew by, it became startlingly clear that the problem was pride.

They had both rightfully been sorted into Gryffindor, Hermione told Ginny one day. They were unwilling to sacrifice their pride, and somehow knowing this made Hermione angrier and angrier until one day, she blew up at Ron just as he was leaving for work.

"If we can't talk to each other, what's the point?!"

He paused, his hand on the Floo powder pot and said stonily, "I don't see any point if you're just going to yell at me more."

"Stop doing that! Acting like you're the wounded one-"

"I'm not!" He spun around wildly, and Hermione found herself looking at his face for the first time since the Egg Morning. "You just look for every excuse to yell at me, so sorry if I feel targeted!"

"Stop it," said Hermione stiffly. "Stop it, Ron."

"You're impossible," he continued moodily. "And you expect me to sit by and just take your-"

"Ron!"

"-yelling. It's been like that since the first day we met!"

He fell silent, perhaps because Hermione made no motion to speak. That was how they functioned, she realized. They kept each other going, and sometimes they kept each other going too much at the same time.

"Ron," she said quietly after a moment's deliberation. "I can't live with someone I can't talk to. And I certainly can't be in a relationship with someone I can't connect with."

She expected him to turn away without another word. She hoped he would protest and say that they could work it out. But Ron did neither of those things.

"Fine," he spat callously. "Move out, then."

Her jaw dropped open, and hurt was replaced by boiling anger. "Excuse me, but I pay half the rent! It's my flat every much as yours, and you can't just kick me out. If anything, you should leave! You have other places to go in London!"

She didn't say what was the real concern, which was that she, being a Muggleborn, had no other immediate options in Wizarding London, and what with work and everything, she would likely be homeless for a few months before having enough time to settle into another place.

Ron seemed bent on inciting another fight, but he quickly changed gears by saying bitterly, "Fine. I'll move out after work today."

And he left, the echo of his voice fading as the Floo powder's green curls of smoke and fire shrouded him from view and took him away.

As far as I'm concerned you're

Just another picture to burn

Ron sat dejectedly in the back room of Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes as George closed up the shop in the front.

The little flat was fairly clean, though the floor was scorched in a few places, and Ron briefly wondered if he was going to be forced to be his brother's product tester.

George reentered the room. "Sure you want to move in? On the couch?"

Ron waved his hand at the small boxes stacked by the beaten red couch that had probably been the sight of many product testings as well.. "Yeah, I'll only stay a week or so."

George shrugged. "You could stay longer, you know. I need an extra hand."

He shook his head. "No. A week should be long enough." For him and Hermione to resolve their differences.

His brother nodded and slipped something into the trashcan. "I'll just go give Verity her pay, then I'll be back." He went back into the shop.

Ron stood and made his way to the boxes, and that was when he saw what George had put into the bin.

It was the Daily Prophet, and there was a large picture of him and Hermione on the front. Ron grabbed it and stared at the headline: "The Golden Trio Not So Golden Anymore?"

He was about to throw it back in disgust when he took a closer look at the picture and realized it had been taken on their 2nd year anniversary. The picture showed Hermione laughing in a gorgeous blue dress, and the more he stared at the picture, the more he felt sickened by the thought of the packed boxes sitting a few feet away from him.

He turned towards the door that led to the shop, and, after checking that George was still flirting with the pretty blonde employee, quickly tore out the picture from the newspaper. He dropped the paper back into the bin and stuffed the ripped picture into his pocket.

It would get better, wouldn't it? ...He told himself it would.

The picture remained in his pocket.

She saw the Prophet's newest article lying on Ginny's coffee table.

Snatching it up, Hermione read the headline and stared at the full-paged picture of her and Ron on their 2nd anniversary up in Scotland. Her mouth dropped open as she skimmed over the page filled with rumours concerning their break-up.

Hermione shook her head and returned to the picture. Her finger gently outlined Ron's face as both of them laughed and hugged each other.

A corner of her mouth lifted as she remembered how they'd been putting on an exaggerated show of puppy love for the cameras at the time.

"Hermione?" called Ginny from the kitchen. "Can you help me with this really quickly?"

"Yeah," she said, still staring at the picture. "Be there in a sec."

She and Ron had good times dating back to when they were just eleven. But he had moved out, she reminded herself. He had been impossible to reason with, and they hadn't worked well together.

She threw the paper back onto the table and got up. Yes. As far as she was concerned, she no longer needed Ron in her life.

She left the newspaper on the table and didn't look at it once more that evening.