CHAPTER 2

Harry was in the kitchen preparing coffee when Hermione walked in.

"Thanks," she murmured as she took the cup Harry offered, cradling it between her hands for warmth.

"Listen, about last night..." Harry stammered.

"Don't apologize, Harry," Hermione said, "I've been thinking about it, too, and..."

Just then, Ron entered the room. Both of them froze, watching him apprehensively.

"What?" he said. They both looked away quickly. "Blimey, what is it with you two? You act as if I'm a walking time bomb."

Neither of them spoke. Living with Ron these last months had been tantamount to torture. Only the loyalty of their past friendship, and the loss of his sister, kept them from kicking him out on his arse. Yet as each day passed, and Ron's drunken rages and erratic behavior grew more dangerous, Harry felt the grasp of loyalty and friendship slipping. He could not stand to see Hermione crying herself to sleep every night, and he, too, was sick of being treated like dragon dung. After last night, he had vowed to make a change. Hermione had kissed him back. Even if nothing more ever happened between them, it told Harry that she was ready to move on with her life. Without Ron.

"How's auror training going?" Ron asked around a mouthful of eggs on toast.

Harry took in Ron's bloodshot eyes and his unkempt appearance. Inwardly, he sighed. "There's still a spot for you, Ron."

"Nah," Ron spat, "you keep at it though. It suits you."

"What are you going to do, Ron?" Hermione asked. "You can't stay here living like this forever..."

"Why not?" he asked.

Hermione and Harry glanced at each other.

"Unless you're asking me to leave, I'm perfectly happy with how things are. I mean, the three of us are still together, and what's more important than friendship, eh?" Ron jammed more food into his mouth as he stretched and scratched his protruding belly. He'd put on weight since Ginny had died.

"Ron..." Hermione began.

"You worry too much," Ron said, waving her off.

"No, she doesn't," interjected Harry.

At the tone of Harry's voice, Ron stopped.

"Hermione and I," Harry swallowed, "think it's time we move out."

Harry felt as stunned as Ron looked. He didn't dare look at Hermione. He hadn't meant to say the words aloud, but now that he had, he knew they were true.

"Move out?" Ron said, almost comically. "What, do you mean you want to get a new flat? Maybe move closer to the Ministry, so you two can be closer to your jobs? I think that's a great idea. Let me know when you find a place and I'll pack my stuff."

As he turned to leave, Harry stood and braced himself. "Alone, Ron. Without you. I think it's time we went our separate ways."

Ron chortled. "Nice one, Harry. For a moment there I thought you were serious."

"I am serious."

Ron glanced from Harry to Hermione. Hermione had her head in her hands.

"What the hell is this?" Ron demanded. "Is there something you're not telling me?"

Harry was about to speak when Hermione cleared her throat. She, too, squared her shoulders. "I think Harry's right. It's time we went our separate ways."

"Why? Why the blimey hell do you want to leave? Or, more specifically, do you want me to leave?"

"Ron, it's not you, it's just..." Hermione tried.

"Your lifestyle is becoming difficult to accommodate," Harry finished.

Ron looked astonished. "My what?"

"Your drinking," Hermione interjected.

"Bringing home a different woman every night," Harry added.

"Your outbursts," Hermione said in a small voice.

"My what?" Ron spluttered.

Hermione looked away, tears welling in her eyes. Visibly swallowing, Hermione took out her wand and waved it in front of her face. Brown and purple bruises blossomed across her left cheek and eye.

Harry felt as if someone had poured cold ice over him. Rage welled in the pit of his stomach. Hermione had kept this from him.

"What the hell happened to you?" Ron asked, indignant and confused.

But Harry was already stepping towards him.

Hermione grabbed Harry's arm, barely able to hold him back. "Harry, please…" Hermione cleared her throat again and whispered into the tense silence. "You, Ron, you did this to me."

"What the hell? Is this some sort of sick game you're playing, Hermione? Because it isn't funny." Ron's ears had turned red and his hands had balled into fists.

Still holding onto to Harry, Hermione said, "I can't live like this anymore, Ron. I've been covering for you long enough."

"Damn right you can't live like this," Harry snapped, breaking free of Hermione's grip. "You should have told me, Hermione." Harry stalked to where Ron stood. "Get out now," Harry said, barely able to control himself, "before I do something we both regret."

"Is this how you treat your friends? Blame them for the scrapes you get into? I didn't touch her," he spat in Hermione's direction. "You're going to believe her over me? After all I've been through?"

"Ron..." Hermione warned.

"No, I don't have to take this. I lost my sister. It's your fault I lost Ginny," he said, shoving a beefy finger into Harry's chest. "If it wasn't for you, Potter, Ginny'd still be alive."

"Don't," Harry said. He was one second away from snapping.

"Don't what?" Ron shouted. "Tell the truth? You're the one who should leave! Take your things and get the hell out of our lives. Hermione and I don't need you, do we Hermione?"

Hermione said nothing. She stared at the ground, and Harry knew she was fighting back tears.

Ron pushed past Harry and grabbed Hermione by the shoulders. "Answer me," he demanded, shaking her violently.

Harry's reaction was instinctive. He grabbed Ron and threw him against the wall, his fist raised and ready to punch. But Ron's head had hit the doorframe and he slid slowly to the floor, already unconscious.

"Oh Harry, you shouldn't have," Hermione said. "He... he doesn't know what he's doing."

Harry's heart was beating hard and fast. "That may be, Hermione, but that's his problem, not ours. And us staying here is not going to help him get better. We've tried, Hermione. We've done everything we can. We aren't helping him." Very lightly, he ran his fingers across the bruises on her cheek, "And he's hurting us."

"I know," she said. She blinked back her tears before looking sadly down at Ron who lay sprawled on the floor. "I'll go pack my things."

Harry watched as Hermione left the room, pity and regret flitting across her face. "I'm sorry, Ron," she whispered.

Within fifteen minutes, Harry and Hermione had left, leaving Ron a note and some money.