Hello Dearest Readers, I sincerely apologize for this late chapter (I am trying to submit a chapter each week- god knows how long that will last). I also looked over the other chapter and I realized that my page breaks did not show up and I tried all these different tactics to get breaks but nothing worked and uhhhh, I just can't. I also wanted to say that Hermione's decision to leave Ron was just a part of the framework of the story and I regret if any Ron-Hermione lovers are reading this; they're not going to be together in this fanfic. BUT I did try to portray Ron in a more serious, sensitive light because I hate reading fanfics where Ron and Harry are either insensitive a**holes or just these empty headed idiots. Also the Malfoy development (that you will read about)- well, let's just say that I didn't anticipate it going that far- ahhh, enough spoilers. Okay, Enjoy!

Hermione walked down the street in a shocked daze. She didn't feel the darkness enshrouding her small figure nor the biting wind that reddened her pale face and circled threateningly around her ankles. No, weather was the last thing on her mind.

If one looked closely enough, they would be able to see the tear tracks that seemed permanently etched on her cheeks.

"I don't want to die." She said to the empty street. "I DON'T WANT TO DIE!" She screamed, more tears rushing from her eyes. She stopped, covering her face with her hands. "I don't deserve this." She whispered despairingly to herself.

So absorbed was she in her thoughts that she failed to notice the shadow that appeared under the softly illuminated lamp post.

"Well, well." Drawled a voice, one that sounded terribly familiar. Hermione looked up, and felt her heart start to pound as she recognized the sleek blonde hair that rested atop a very handsome, albeit condescending, face. Draco Malfoy.

After the War, the Malfoys had retreated from society for a few years. However, Draco had finished his education at Hogwarts and then immediately joined an upper branch of the Department of Magical Enforcement, working with the Minister of Magic on a highly-speculated project. Word had it that he had managed to triple the family fortune by creating a network of highly trained guards that were now guarding Azkaban and other dangerous institutions in replacement of the now banished Dementors. Hermione had listened to all of this rather disinterestedly, from her colleagues in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Now she wished she had paid more attention to the gossip.

Hermione rubbed her eyes, trying to get rid of any traces of weakness in front of her old nemesis.

"Why are you out so late?" She demanded, glaring at him under the lamplight.

"Look who's talking," He smirked. "I was about to ask you the same question, Granger."

She glared at his casual use of her name. "I don't think that's any of your business." She turned around to walk in the opposite direction. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I must get going."

Before she had taken one step, however, he had pulled her arm back and twisted it around her back, so that her body was glued against his. She tried to free herself, but Malfoy had her in an iron grip.

"I asked what you were doing here." He snarled softly. "It's not safe to be out on the streets past midnight, especially if you're a pretty, young woman."

She almost laughed disbelievingly. Was that concern she detected in his tone? Who was she kidding. Malfoy, afraid for her safety? That would be the day.

"If you must know, I was doing some very important research on a Goblin Rights assignment and due to a- complication I was instructed to perform an inspection on this street." She said frostily.

She felt him smile against her forehead. "Ah, of course." He replied, his smooth tone implying that he had not believed her lie for a moment. "Knockturn Alley is very much a street through which Goblin welfare can be established."

Hermione's stomach twisted uncomfortably. She hated lying, but what she hated more was her rather trapped state, both physically and conversationally.

She squirmed helplessly and he whispered into her ear, "Keep struggling, sweetheart. I like it."

She stopped immediately, trying desperately to think of possible wandless spells that could get her out of Draco's arms. She realized that she really didn't know him, not at all. He could still be a Mudblood Hater, or even a serial killer, after all.

As she looked up at him with scared eyes, he bent down and kissed her with ruthless precision, assaulting her mouth with hot kisses. She responded with fierce passion, wrapping her freed hands around his neck and pulling him closer. She moaned, as he began to trail kisses along her jaw, one hand clenching a fistful of her hair. He moulded her body to his, running soft fingers down her waist and the back up her spine. Hermione shuddered with shy pleasure. Her eyes glazed over with passion, she didn't notice when Malfoy suddenly stopped, looking down at the helpless woman he held in his arms.

"It's nice to know you can't resist me." He drawled, satisfaction lacing his tone. Hermione stumbled back from him, a hand to her mouth as she stared at him in horror. Merlin, what had she just done? What was she going to say to Ron?

As if he had read her thoughts, he murmured, "You can do better than that insufferable Weasley."

Hermione backed away, turning before she broke into a run, along the dark streets of Diagon Alley, Malfoy already forgotten. What was she going to do? She couldn't go back to Ron and expect him to take her back after this. What she'd done was unforgivable; she'd kissed a Malfoy and actually liked it. She'd betrayed him and she had done it willingly. As she turned the options over in her mind, she kept returning to the only one possible.

She had no choice. She'd have to break up with Ron. She hoped he wouldn't miss her when she was gone.

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When she got back to their apartment, it was dark. She crept silently inside, taking off her coat and boots, and padding slowly into the living room. She quickly muttered, "Muffliato" before summoning all of her belongings, clothing and luggage, packing it all together and zipping it firmly, banishing the black grief that seemed ready to overwhelm her.

She put this in her room, before creeping into Ron's room, where he lay on his back, snoring. An endearing smile crossing her face, she slipped under the covers and snuggled up to Ron, knowing that this would be the last time. Sensing her presence, he dropped his arm around her, pulling her closer.

"'Mione", he mumbled sleepily.

"Mmmm?" She whispered, her hand gently stroking his temple.

"Love you."

As she lay in Ron's arms, with the taste of another man on her lips, she knew she didn't deserve him.

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When she woke up in the morning, Ron had already gone to work. There was a note on his pillow and she picked it up.

'Mione,

I let you sleep since you looked too peaceful to wake up. Gin also owled me about your cold and I think you should stay in bed for a few days, just until this gets better. I've prepared some tea for you on the kitchen counter and there's some leftovrr of the tart that Mum brought over last timmy she visited. Anyways, I need too get to werk now so have funnel!

XOXO- Roonil Wazlib

As she finished the letter she felt a surge of loneliness. There were so many aspects of her life that she had taken for granted, like Ron's terrible but sweet letters, always "checked" by the Self-Spelling Quill or the way that he always seemed to fuss over little things that bothered her.

She stayed at home, pacing the living room for what seemed like hours. She didn't notice the severity of the coughs that seemed to rack her lungs of air or the shooting pain that seemed to attack her stomach every hour. Her guilt over Malfoy's kiss and her sorrow over her loss of, not just a partner, but also a friend kept her preoccupied as to whether leaving was truly the right choice.

When Ron came home, she knew what had to be done.

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"I think we should break up." She said this stiffly as she looked out the window, her back to him. She gazed unseeingly at the soft flakes of snow that fell silently passed their window, some clinging tenaciously to the glass before slowly melting away.

"What?" Ron looked up from the papers he was frowning at. "What did you say?"

She turned to face him. "I said, I think we should break up."

"Bloody- Hermione, what's going on?" He said, looking as though he couldn't believe it.

"Let's be honest, we aren't exactly the Couple of the Year, are we?" She said quite coldly. "And I wouldn't exactly call the shop clerk at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes a catch, would you?"

Ron's ears turned beet red with shame and embarrassment. "Well, I- "

"What? You couldn't even get a job as an Auror's assistant?" She said scathingly. "God, who'd have thought I'd be stuck dating a child."

"Is this how you've always felt about me, Hermione? I didn't know you to be so… so cold-blooded. You sound like bloody Malfoy!" He couldn't keep the hurt from his voice.

"Yes, well, sometimes it's the only way to get through to you." She retorted.

"What, to degrade me by patronising my job? To compare me to Harry?" He shouted, losing his temper.

"Maybe it would do you some good." She shouted back. "Maybe instead of fooling around with those stupid toys, you'd use magic to make yourself useful in this world!"

"God, Mum was right about you! You really are power hungry! Going after Harry and Krum just because they're successful and famous and stamping on people like me because we can't live up to your expectations!" He shouted bitterly.

She looked momentarily stunned (and hurt) before replying nastily, "And what's so wrong with that? Men who can take care of themselves and not go crying to Mummy- ".

"Merlin, you're a bitch!" He snarled, before he could stop the words from coming out of his mouth.

Before she could reply, she was overcome by a bout of coughing, doubling over at the waist to lessen the pain. Ron moved quickly to help her but she cringed away as if disgusted by his touch.

"Stay away from me," she rasped, her throat hurting terribly. He withdrew his hand, more upset than surprised.

"What have I done wrong?" His voice took on a pleading note, as he gently reached out to take her hand. "You don't want to do this. And I know what you said earlier… you can't really mean it, Hermione. Tell me whatever's wrong and I'll fix it."

Removing her hand disgustedly, she quickly turned away from him, coughing slightly. "It's too late. Y-you can't fix it."

"But-" He protested.

"No. No, just leave me alone." She turned to him once again, her face had turned quite pale but the hatred in her voice remained. "I don't need you. I don't even want you." She walked calmly to her bedroom, where two suitcases where stationed neatly near a newly stripped bed.

"But," his voice was laced with pained desperation as he surveyed the now unfamiliar room. "What if I need you?" He asked, his eyes blurring over with tears, as he watched her pick up her suitcases and walk to the door.

She stopped at his plea, staring at the door. Her back seemed unnaturally stiff as though she too was holding back suppressed emotions.

But he must have imagined this, he knew, as she turned slightly and said coldly, "Not everything is about you, Ronald." With these words, she disappeared with a loud CRACK.

Ron looked down at his hands and he felt anger and pain and loneliness seep through him. He supposed he had expected this day to come, he thought bitterly. He had been elated when she'd asked him to be in a relationship, although he'd always known that he would never be enough for her, that he didn't deserve her.

He looked around at the flat that they had bought so happily just three years ago. The apartment now seemed cold to him. Cold and unfamiliar.