Why, hello! Thanks to all still reading this little fic, I know it's slow and I'm sorry! This was written fast and partially on my phone, so if it seems off, that's why!

Another little note. I write, but I read a lot more. If you write as well and want me to read any of your stories, just let me know and I most certainly will :)

oOo

When Ron arrived at Dave's house, the party was already in full swing. With high school graduation being the next day, there were even more people in the house than usual, everyone excited to end a chapter and start the rest of their lives.

Everyone except me, Ron thought bitterly as he headed straight towards the table of alcohol set out in the kitchen. Instead of excitement, he just felt empty and broken. As far as the future went, he still had no clue what he wanted to do and had no plans of moving forward. No wonder Hermione didn't want him. Ron knew he was never going to amount to anything special and Hermione, of course, knew that as well.

"Hey!" A small body launched itself at him, followed by a pair of glossy lips on his cheek in greeting. "I'm so glad you're here!"

Ron gave an obviously very drunk Charlotte a pat on the back before she let go of his torso and took a step back to look up at him. "I'm here," he repeated, his voice dull despite trying to sound more jovial than he actually was.

"I don't like sad Ron," she said with a pout as she smoothed his fringe back, the action making his lips quirk up in spite of himself.

"I'm not sad anymore," he lied, forcing a bigger smile for her benefit. "Totally over it."

"Ron! Fuck yeah!" Dave exclaimed as he came from somewhere behind Ron to stand at his girlfriend's side. "I know you said on the phone that you'd be here, but I wasn't sure if you'd really come."

"I just told him I didn't like it when he acts sad," Charlotte said, wrapping her arms around her boyfriend as she gazed lovingly up at him, "Ron is always funny and happy. I like him like that."

"Let me get drunk and I'll be even happier," Ron muttered as he reached for a whiskey bottle on the table and started pouring a large amount into a red cup.

"You're drinking that straight, man?" Dave asked, a flash of incredulousness on his face.

"Yup." Ron chugged the entire cup, the liquid burning his throat on the way down.

"Oookay," Dave drawled, wisely choosing not to protest his friend's choice. "Well, listen, I've gotta warn you. Lavender's here and she's been asking about you."

"Fanfuckingtastic," Ron replied as he poured himself another cup. He tried to ignore the concerned look that passed between Dave and Charlotte. "Speak of the devil," he said in a loud voice as he spied Lavender walking up to the three of them.

"You were talking about me?" Lavender asked when she made it to Ron's side, her smile wide. She was wearing a short glittery dress that squeezed her tight and brought attention to her curves, her high heels making her appear taller than she actually was. Her makeup was flawless and her blonde hair had been styled to frame her face in small waves. Even if she was nutters, Ron thought, she'd always been attractive.

Grinning, he threw an arm around her shoulders. "Only good things," he told her.

Giving each other another odd look, Dave and Charlotte told Ron they'd see him later before turning to head towards the crowded living room to mingle with the other party goers.

Once they were alone, Lavender giggled, the sound instantly grating on his nerves. "You're so cute!"

"The cutest," Ron agreed, temporarily removing his arm from around Lavender to pour another drink after finishing his second.

"So," she said, her tone changing to something inquisitive, "Where's that girl? The one you brought to prom?"

Ron's hands stilled mid-pour as the knife he'd very momentarily forgot was lodged in his heart twisted, bringing a nauseating wave of fresh pain.

"She's not here," he finally answered, his short tone indicating that he would not be elaborating.

"Oh," Lavender exclaimed, seemingly happy about this fact. "Do you want to go sit down on the sofa?"

Agreeing, Ron grabbed his full cup and let her lead him to the sofa, where he sat down at the only empty spot at the far end, Lavender eagerly climbing onto his lap. She started rambling on about how excited she was for graduation, but Ron hardly paid attention to her words, his eyes straight ahead as he sipped on his whiskey. Lavender kept on shifting, intentionally pushing her bum down on his crotch, but it did nothing for him, his mind entirely somewhere else. The noises faded and the room blurred as the liquor he'd been consuming caught up to him. He still felt like shit, but at least there was that numbness that alcohol provided present as well, helping just a little bit. He'd been sitting in stony silence for about ten minutes when Lavender mentioned the date, telling Ron she had an appointment tomorrow morning to get her nails done before graduation in the afternoon.

"Wait," he spoke up, "What's today's date?"

"The thirteenth," she answered, giving him an odd look.

It took Ron a moment to remember why the date held such significance but then it hit him. Hermione was leaving for University tomorrow. She'd be moving hours away from him and as far as he knew, the move would be permanent. Idiot that he was, he'd failed to realize that she'd be leaving him the same day he was set to graduate high school.

Suddenly feeling sick, he clutched at his stomach. "I need some air," he choked out, resisting the urge to throw Lavender off his lap and start running. To his relief, she stood up at his request. When Ron stood, he was wobbly on his feet but he didn't let that deter him. Ignoring Lavender's rapidly firing questions, he scrambled past her towards the front door, feeling only mildly relieved at the rush of the cold night air after scrambling outside.

"Where are you going?" Lavender, who had followed him outside demanded, and only then did Ron realize he was already practically running from Dave's house towards his own.

"I've gotta go home," he groaned, hoping that the few blocks would sober him up some. "I've gotta fix things with Hermione before it's too late."

To his annoyance, Lavender kept up with his pace, her high heels loud on the pavement as she ran alongside him. "I'll go with you."

"Yeah, okay," Ron mumbled, not feeling up to arguing with her. His mind was on one thing and one thing only, and that was Hermione.

"Do you like her?" Lavender questioned, her breaths coming out in little puffs.

Ron nodded. "She's my best friend."

"Yeah, but do you like her, you know, as more than a best friend?" Ron didn't answer the question, choosing to ignore it instead. "She obviously has no idea how lucky she is to have you as a best friend," Lavender continued, obviously fishing for more information from him, "Friend or not, you deserve better than the way she's been treating you."

"You don't know anything about any of this," Ron snapped, turning to glare at her, "You don't even know a small percentage of the full story."

Lavender held her hands up defensively. "Fine, fine," she relented, "But I know what a girl looks like when she really cares about a bloke, and that girl takes you for granted. She's happy dragging you along when it's convenient for her, but she doesn't care half as much as you think she does. Trust me."

Ron slowed down and then came to a stop, the words making the knife twist yet again. "You really think so?" he asked in a small voice. The truth was, Lavender was making a lot of sense. In fact, Hermione was probably relieved to be rid of the burden that he had always been for her.

"Oh, honey." Lavender stepped towards Ron and wrapped her arms around him. "It's obvious she's selfish. She's friendzoned you so hard that she'll never be able to see you as anything more."

Squeezing his eyes shut, Ron remained motionless even as Lavender hugged him tighter. "We can still be friends though," he finally said, "I don't need anything more than that." Even as he said the words, they tasted sour. He was so fucking pathetic. Hermione didn't need him, had never needed him, and him trying to fix things now, after she'd made that apparently clear, was pitiful.

Lavender tutted. "Maybe that chapter of your life is over. Now you can move on to bigger and…" her hand trailed up his chest before tracing his collarbone, "better things."

Ron took her hand in his, resisting the urge to throw up. "Maybe, yeah," he acquiesced. It hurt, ohgod how it hurt, but it was finally time for him to fully accept the truth, no matter how it made him feel. "I'm fucking exhausted," he said with a sigh, "I need to get to my bed and fall asleep for about a million years."

"The night is still young," Lavender said with a frown. "Let's stay together for a little while longer, okay?"

He bit his lip to avoid snapping at her. "You can walk me home," he suggested, "but then I've gotta get to bed." Shoulders sagging just a bit, she nodded. They made their way to Ron's house, arriving there in only a few minutes. Ron was about to say his goodbyes when it occurred to him that he didn't much like the idea of Lavender walking back to Dave's house alone in the middle of the night. "Are you planning on going back to the party?" he asked.

"To be honest, I was hoping you'd sneak me into your room so we could shag," she said with a loud giggle.

The mental image of a squealing Lavender bouncing up and down on him came unbidden to Ron's mind and he winced. "My mum would murder me if she caught me shagging under her roof," he said. It was the truth, of course, but it was also an excuse. There was no way in hell he'd be shagging Lavender ever again.

"What about here? Outside?" she suggested.

Ron was about to retort when he saw Lavender eyeing the dark space between his and Hermione's houses. A glance at her window revealed that it was cracked open, the curtains shut but billowing in the night breeze. He remembered the night all those months ago when Hermione had snogged Cormac against his car and the way the sight had made him feel. The impulsive idea came quickly, and Ron didn't hesitate before pulling Lavender to the side of the house, leaning his back against the brick and pulling her to him. The truth was, he wasn't sure what he aimed to accomplish by this, but a part of him hoped that seeing him with Lavender would provoke a response in Hermione. If he was being completely honest, the not so nice part of him wanted to hurt her, wanted to make her feel even a fraction of what he'd been feeling this last week.

"This was such a great idea!" Lavender exclaimed with a loud giggle, and Ron placed his finger over his own mouth, silently urging her to not be so loud. He wanted Hermione to see them, of course, but the thought of waking his mum was terrifying. When he removed his finger, Lavender quickly replaced it with her lips, her tongue seeking entrance into his mouth. Halfheartedly, Ron snogged her, his eyes peeking over her head to see if Hermione was watching them. She wasn't, and he winced as Lavender grew more aggressive, pressing the back of Ron's head into the rough brick of his house.

"Be a bit gentler, alright?" he muttered, still intently watching Hermione's window.

For some reason, Lavender found his request hilarious and started to giggle even louder than she had been before. Ron moved his eyes to hers and pulled her closer to him, half hoping and half dreading that her laughs would have woken Hermione by now. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement at Hermione's window, his heart jumping to his throat as he realized she was watching. "You really have a great laugh, Lavender," he lied, sure that would make her laugh again. It did. She threw her head back, Ron staring at the column of her throat as he resisted the urge to look up at Hermione's window.

"Compliments deserve rewards," Lavender said, right before dropping to her knees in front of him.

Ron wasn't sure if he wanted Hermione to see this exactly, but he froze, not knowing what to do. Lavender quickly undid his jeans and pulled out his cock, making the decision for him. He wasn't even remotely hard as she took him into her mouth, but he let out a soft moan before closing his eyes and moving his hand into her hair, trying to force himself to get into the right mindspace to at least pretend to enjoy what was happening. His heart was pounding as he imagined what Hermione was thinking. Was she jealous? Did she regret leaving him at the motel that morning?

Deciding to see for himself, he opened his eyes and stared up at Hermione's window. She was just standing there, her expression one of both rage and disgust as she watched his display with Lavender. It was only a moment before she disappeared again, leaving Ron wondering if she would be coming back. He removed his hand from Lavender's hair and was about to pull her off of him and apologize, when there was a loud clang. He and Lavender both flinched in surprise, the latter jumping to her feet.

When Ron spotted the pail and the tattered rope in the grass, his eyes darted to Hermione, furious at what she had done. The pulley system was the one thing that had remained constant in all the years they'd known each other. It had seen them through all the ups and downs of their friendship. It was always there, no matter what, and now it was gone, destroyed. Hermione stared at him defiantly, crossing her arms over her chest and not giving a shit that she'd just broken them once and for all.

She hated him. She bloody hated him and there was nothing in the world that could mend things between them now.

Lavender looked back and forth between Ron and Hermione, apparently just now realizing that they were nextdoor neighbors.

"You really can do better, Lavender," Hermione called down to the other girl, the sound of her voice making Ron feel like he was going to both cry and scream. "You should find someone who treats you with more respect. Someone who doesn't bring you to the side of a house to perform fellatio."

Lavender too, crossed her arms, moving to stand in front of Ron as he buckled up his trousers. "He didn't ask me to do anything, Hermione. I wanted to."

"Girl to girl, Lavender," replied Hermione, "he's using you."

If Ron hadn't been so furious and upset, he'd probably be ashamed of himself at Hermione's very true accusation.

"Well, I'll gladly be used by him, thank you very much!" Lavender said snootily.

Grabbing Lavender's hand, Ron started to pull her away, giving a final glare to Hermione before he turned around.

"You're disgusting, Ronald Weasley!" she shrieked.

Ron froze, but he didn't turn around. He felt like he was going to be sick. He was going to throw up, and then he was going to collapse right in his own vomit and die. Before he could do so, Lavender turned to retort, but before she could get a word out, Ron pulled her away.

"I'm walking you back to Dave's house," he said between gritted teeth, not allowing her to get a word in otherwise, "and then I'm going back home and getting into my fucking bed."

For the first time that night, Lavender didn't try to change his mind and stayed silent.

oOo

The next afternoon, Ron paced back and forth in his room, his now sober mind going frantic with indecision. Last night, Hermione had made it perfectly clear where she stood, and as much as he hated it, Ron had to accept it.

She had cut down the pulley.

He hated her for what she had done…but fuck how he loved her no matter what she had done. He longed to run to her house. To scream at her. To kiss her. To just cry and let loose on all he was feeling.

He was such a fucking mess.

Hermione was going to be leaving any minute now, and then he'd probably never see her again. Ron had brought it all upon himself, though, and- the sound of a car starting made him come to a halt. Running to his window, he watched Hermione's car backing out of her driveway. The sight terrified him more than anything else ever had, and thoughts of staying where he was be damned. Ron raced out of his room, almost falling down the flight of stairs to get down them. By the time he made it outside, Hermione was almost to the end of the street, and Ron ran until she turned the corner out of sight.

"Fuck!" he cursed, kicking the pavement with his socked foot. He felt tears leaking out the corner of his eyes, but he couldn't be bothered to care.

"Ron?"

When Ron turned, he realized he was standing in front of the Granger's house, and Hugh Granger was in his driveway, regarding him curiously. Wiping at his eyes, Ron tried to make up a quick excuse about why he was in the middle of the street, but came up with none. "Yeah?"

Hugh walked down his driveway, his hands in his pockets. "She was upset too, you know," he said, not needing to explain who he was talking about.

"Really?" Ron asked, not believing him. "What did she say?"

Hugh shrugged. "Nothing, but as her dad, I could tell."

"She doesn't care about me," Ron said dejectedly, "Not anymore."

Mr Granger was silent for a few long seconds. "I'm not going to pretend to know what happened between you guys, nor do I think I want to know," Ron felt his ears go red at the tone of the words, "but I do know that you two have been through so much together…way too much to just give it all up."

"It's….difficult," Ron said, trying but not managing to find the right word, "between us now. I don't think it's fixable."

"Ah, but is it worth being fixed?" Uncomfortable, Ron stared down at the ground but didn't answer. "You're still young, Ron, but I want you to think about something. What happens next is fifty percent up to you, and fifty percent up to Hermione. In the future, you can either look back and grieve for the decision you should have made, but didn't, or you can look back and be proud of the decision you did make."

"What do you want me to do?" Ron practically wailed, "Your daughter hates me, and I don't think there's a way to make her not hate me."

Hugh hummed. "Hate is a pretty strong word. Hermione's upset, yeah, and maybe even mad as hell, but… she cares for you, Ron. She always has."

"She's better off without me, though. She doesn't need me dragging her down."

To his surprise, Mr Granger chuckled, the sound causing Ron's head to snap up and look at him. "You sound a lot like me at your age," the man explained, "Insecurities galore." Ron opened his mouth, then closed it. "Look," Hugh went on, his voice again serious, "I have a feeling that whatever you two are going through will pass. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but one day."

"Yeah…we'll see."

"I wanted to tell you something else." Ron raised his eyebrows in question, waiting for the man to go on. "Jean and I decided to sell the house. It will be just too big without Hermione living here, and we want something a little more slow-paced." Ron resisted the urge to protest, biting his lip to keep it from trembling. With Hermione's parents no longer next door, his very last remaining thread to Hermione would be gone. Hugh noticed the distressed look on Ron's face and reached out to squeeze his shoulder. "I'll tell her you came by. I'll tell her-"

"No!" Ron stepped back. "Please don't. Hermione deserves a fresh start without me."

"That's not right. She will want to-"

"Please?" Ron begged. "If she wants to get hold of me, she knows exactly where I'll be. Don't force me on her, I beg you."

The older man sighed. "Fine. But I think that's a mistake."

Ron's jaw clenched. "Maybe so, but it's mine to make."

"Ronald Weasley! You better be dressed when I come up there!" Molly Weasley's voice came from an open window and Ron winced.

"She thinks I'm upstairs getting dressed for graduation," he said sheepishly.

Mr Granger smiled. "Congratulations, Ron. I bet you'll do great things."

Ron resisted the urge to scoff. "Yeah… thanks. Well.." he rubbed the back of his neck, "See you later?"

Mr Granger shooed him with his hands. "Yeah, go. You better hurry before you get in trouble."

With a small forced smile, Ron turned and hurried to his house, feeling zero excitement for the upcoming ceremony.