I suppose I can thank meaningless bickering with my boyfriend for this depressing little drabble.
I own nothing.
XXX
"Being paranoid, Ronald, doesn't give you reason to be a complete arse to me!" Hermione shouted, pulling various books off the shelf and throwing them at Ron. Standing by the door and trying his best to deflect the heavy books and novels, Ron felt he could spare no effort to defend himself.
"We've been together for years—forty- nine months, and you think I'm cheating on you!" She pulled her copy of Healer's Hand Guide off the middle shelf and hurled it with all her strength. It hit him in the shoulder and he let out a grunt of pain.
"Stop, Hermione! I said I'm sorry!" His attempts to diffuse her anger were pitiful. He had taken her to the large library of the old house, hoping that being in the room that she so often retreated to for peace would keep her anger low when he confronted her. But now she was on a rampage, furious that Ron had the nerve to think such things.
"Sorry? You think sorry makes a difference?" she threw another book half-heartedly. "You think I'm cheating on you." She dropped the last book at her feet and slid to the ground, wrapping her arms around her legs. Ron felt his heart fall as she laid her face on her knees and sniffled as she began to cry.
"Hermione . . ." Ron walked over to her with his arms outstretched and his hand ready to take hers.
"Stop," she said, holding her hands up. "Don't. Just . . . Just don't." She stood again, now a mere half-meter away from him, and wiped the back of her forearm across her eyes. "Goodbye Ronald," she said quietly, passing him and leaving the room, shutting the door tightly behind herself.
Ron stood in silence, looking around. The library was now a mess, with books of all sizes strewn across the floor, many pages torn and scattered. He saw Hogwarts, a History lying at his feet and gave a bitter laugh. He couldn't believe how naïve he'd been to think that such a ridiculous worry would go over well with the respectable woman. He shook his head, looking down at his feet, and left the room. Perhaps the feeble strings their relationship had been hanging on had finally snapped.