I've had a pretty shitty couple of weeks, and the beginning of this story reflects that. I dont own anything so theres no point suing me. enjoy!

"Nearly perfect" I mutter to myself as I put the last touches to the table for two I've set up in our home. I adjust the glass at the one setting ever so slightly, and set the vase of roses in the centre and take a step back to admire my handiwork.

The butterflies in my stomach haven't stopped since I woke up knowing Hermione was due back from a visit to her parents in Australia today.

We've been dating for a little over a year, and she felt it was time that she told them about us. I was supposed to go with her but the school had an emergency so I had to stay to deal with that.

She's been gone just over a week and is due back this afternoon. I've missed her desperately.

I cast a glance around the room once more. The candles are ready, the flowers are fresh and smell lovely, the food has been taken care of by my personal house elf, Trixie, who loves Hermione just as much as I do. I've changed the sheets on the bed and I check my pocket to make sure the ring is still there.

This time apart has made me realise how much Hermione means to me, so I'm going to ask her to marry me. I intend to meet her at the Ministry, any international travellers now have to report there when they get back to confirm their identity and make sure they aren't bringing back any tropical disease, have a quick drink in the cafe in Diagon alley, where I shall listen avidly about her visit, and then back to our home where I shall present her with the ring and propose. I can hardly wait.

I walk into the main room and grab some floo powder, "ministry of magic" I say clearly and step into the hearth. I wave my wand, to remove the residual soot, as I walk out the other side and make my way to the international travel registry office. As I walk towards the lift to take me down to the floor I need, I happen to walk past Mr Weasleys office, and the door is left open slightly. This I find strange as it's a Saturday and Ronald doesn't work Saturdays. I've always been too curious for my own good, so I decide to pop my head in and say hi. I push the door open all the way, and stand there absolutely struck speechless.

Ronald is on his knees, in front of Hermione, in the process of pulling her knickers down. Her lips are swollen and she's looking down at him lustfully, "quickly Ron, I need you" I hear from her lips. He rises again, and kisses her forcefully, as he drops his own pants from around his waist.

I can't watch anymore. I pull the door too quietly, just as I hear a moan, and make my way back up to the atrium. I fall onto the nearest bench, my heart breaking. I can't believe she would do this to me. The scene keeps repeating itself over and over in my head, the look in her eyes as she looked down at him, the need in her voice as she told him to hurry, the moan I heard as I closed the door. A moan I haven't heard since she left for Australia last week, as we kissed each other goodbye. I can feel the tears running down my cheeks but I don't care. I sit there for a moment longer, letting the betrayal truly settle in my heart before I rise and floo back to our home.

I storm straight to our bedroom where I summon my suitcase and the clothes that had only been moved in a few months ago. My anger is beginning to boil over and the window blows out. I repair it with a quick wave of my wand, and move into the bathroom to grab the few things that have found a place there. As I reach out for my toothbrush I see the tremor in my hands, I drop them down to the sink and lower my head as I squeeze the porcelain. The tears are back, and running freely down my cheeks. A sob escapes my throat. I raise my hand to my mouth and look into the mirror.

How could I think that Hermione truly wanted me? She's young and beautiful and so full of life. I knew this was going to happen, which was why I fought against it so hard when she first came to me to tell me she intended to woo me, to make me see how much she cared for me, to see that we belonged together. The dinners, the poems, the nights out walking around parks, hand in hand talking about everything and nothing. The tentative kiss on our tenth date, the day we made love for the first time. She won me over, had me completely and utterly fooled.

I grab the toothbrush and sweep back out into the bedroom. I take one last look round, making sure I have everything of importance, when I hear the front door open.

"Min, love, are you here?"

I freeze in place. My hand on the handle of the suitcase. Fight or flight Minerva, it's time to choose.

"Min?" She shouts again, as I hear her put her suitcase down in the hall, and remove her travelling cloak. I hear her footsteps as she walks down the hall, she stops outside the kitchen then continues on. She stops outside the dining room and I hear an intake of breath, she's seen the table for two I set up earlier.

"Min?" There's a tremble in her voice this time.

"In the bedroom" I answer. I guess I've chosen to fight.