A/N: Some time ago I had written and posted three chapters of this story. I was stuck and unhappy with how the story was going so I'm giving a go at rewriting it. Hope you all enjoy!!

WARNING: This story contains mature, violent, and sexaul themes.

May 14th, 2001

Hermione Granger sat with tear-stained cheeks in the small, nearly empty, muggle cafe, just two blocks from her and Ron's small, one-bedroom apartment. They were fighting again, something that had become typical for the couple. She was so angry with him. There was no coming back from this. They were finished.

Earlier that morning...

Hermione looked down at the muggle pregnancy test to find two thin black lines and immediately felt a wave of panic rush over her. No, she couldn't be pregnant! It wasn't possible! Well of course it was, but she didn't want it to be, she was only twenty-two after all.

She stood at let her wobbly legs carry her out into the kitchen where Ron sat quickly shoveling mouthful after mouthful of his breakfast into his mouth. Sitting down next to him, letting out a shaky breath before opening her mouth to speak, she waited for him to acknowledge her.

He didn't look up.

"Ron," she mumbled.

He didn't look up.

"Ron," she said a little louder, anxiously tapping her foot on the ground.

He didn't look up.

"Ron, we need to talk."

Finally, he looked at her. "Mione? Are you alright?" he asked while chewing.

Hermione nodded slowly, taking deep breaths as she tried to gather the courage to speak.

"It was an accident. I didn't mean for it to happen. I-"

Ron cut off her rambling. "Blimey, spit it out. It can't be that bad."

"We're going to have a baby," she said with a small smile, focusing her gaze one the ground so that she didn't have to see Ron's reaction. She was scared he was going to be angry. They both wanted kids, sure. Not this soon. Not right now. They weren't ready.

Had she been looking at him, she would've seen the dazed look of disbelief on his face.

"What?"

"I'm pregnant. We're going to have a baby," the witch repeated.

Ron made a disgruntled noise, shaking his head over and over. "No."

"No? What do you mean no?"

"You can't be. You can't be."

Hermione shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Well, I am."

"No!" he shouted, slamming his first down on the table and getting to his feet.

She flinched away from him, a bit frightened. "What the hell, Ron! What's your problem?"

"We said- we said no kids for another four or five years!" he screamed at her.

His face was almost as red as his hair. He looked so... angry. So... not Ron. Not her Ron. Her Ron was a tad ill-tempered at times, but he was never like this. Not while he was sober, at least. His drinking had become a problem as of late. Long shifts was work were followed by hours of drinking until he passed out on their couch. Sometimes, when he drank, he would yell at her. Never while he was sober.

Hermione stood up. "I know that, Ronald!" she shouted back.

Ron turned away from her, running a hate through his hair. "Two kids," he grumbled to himself. "Two bloody kids."

"Two? What do you mean two?"

He snapped back around, face a sudden ghostly pale. He hadn't meant to say that out loud.

"I didn't-" he started.

"Yes, you did. What do you mean two?" she asked again.

"I'm so sorry, Mione. I'm so, so sorry, Mione. It wasn't meant to go on for this long. One time, that's what I told her. It spiraled. I'm sorry. I'm sorry," Ron rambled, shaking his head.

Hermione had tears in her eyes as her brain jumped from scenario to scenario. It was clear what he was trying to say, but she was clinging to some hope that she was misinterpreting him.

"Ron...what did you do?"

"She came on to me, Mione, Lavender Brown. We were at The Leaky, me and the lads from work, and she was tipsy, hanging all over me. Talking about how much she missed me. It happened unexpectedly. I told her..." he paused, taking a deep breath."I told her never again. I have you. I love you. The week after, she was there again, and, again, she threw herself at me. She's been there every week. Every time I tell her no more, but I'm addicted. She's pregnant, three months along."

Silent tears streamed down her face as she listened to him speak. It was unbelievable. He was the love of her life.

Hermione walked away from him without saying a word, making her way into their bedroom. She pulled out her wand from the drawer of her bedside table and began shrinking all her belongings, everything from books to clothes to photos. Carefully, she places the items into the beaded bag she had carried with her during the war.

As she turned to exit the room, she say Ron leaning in the doorway.

"Move." She intended to sound demanding but her voice shook as she spoke.

"You can't just go. We need to talk about this," he pleaded.

"I can do as I damn well please, Ronald Weasley. No one is going to tell me what to do, especially not some cheating bastard," She spat back. "Move."

"Hermione, please."

"Go off, be with Lavender and your baby."

In a split second, Ron had pushed off the doorframe. Reaching, he smacked her, a hard backhand across the face.

She gaspsed, stumbling back, almost tripping over her own feet. He had never hit her before.

I'm sorry. Merlin, I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me," he told her quietly.

Slinging the bag over her shoulder, she shoved passed him and left the apartment.

Hermione dried her tears with a sigh, picking up her drink and taking a long, almost soothing sip. It was barely noon, yet she felt ready to sleep for hours on end. Exhaustion consumed her. Her eyes stung from crying.

She was sitting in the corner booth, book in hand. Really, she wasn't reading it, only mindlessly flipping through the pages as she reflected on the events that occured a measely few hours ago.

The bell on the door chimed, drawing her attention. In walked a tall, lean man dressed in darkwash jeans paired with a simple black v-neck. He had familar striking-blue eyes and white blonde hair. If it weren't for where she was, the witch might've said she knew him. The man she knew wouldn't be caught dead here.

He walked up to the counter and placed his order, a large black coffee and a blueberry muffin, glancing around the shop. Their eyes met for a brief moment. Hermione quickly looked away from the man, embarrassed that he had caught her looking.

Picking up her book, she called out to the woman behind the counter. "Thank you, Joan, it was lovely as always."

Joan, a loving, motherly, middle-aged woman, nodded. "Of course, dear. I hope you start feeling better soon."

The man looked at her once more as she stood, giving a tiny smile of acknowledgement.

Hermione exited the cafe to find a sidewalk full of people. It was almost one now. The streets were lined with shoppers and tourists. No precise destination in mind, she allowed herself to lost in the crowd of people.

Eventually, she reached the outside of one of the most expensive apartment complexes in town. It was impractical to live in a place like this. Biting her lip, she contemplated just how much it would cost to live here. New neighborhood, new neighbors, no one who knew her, no memories. She squeezed her eyes closed in order to prvent herself from crying. She was startled when she felt a gentle tap on her shoulder

"Excuse me, are you Hermione Granger?"

A/N: Please let me know what you thought! I plan on having an update some time next week.