A/N: Please bear with me, this is my first published fic, so I'm still figuring out how to make FFN work and have decent formatting. Also, I have no idea if people are still reading HP fics, but here we are. This starts Romione, but eventually that will switch.
Disclaimer: I don't own the wizarding world.
Lastly, the title of each chapter is the song that I feel fits that chapter.
And now, without further ado, I present to you: Moral of the Story!
CHAPTER 1 - "Best Friend Breakup" by Lauren Spencer Smith
Looking back, it was clear to Ron why his wife had left him. They'd never truly worked together. Despite trusting each other implicitly, they fought far too much. At first, he thought it was because of the sexual tension, but as years of dating and marriage passed with no let up with the arguments, it was no surprise she ran. Ron could remember that day crystal clear.
They had been fighting constantly for two weeks. Hermione had gotten home late from work - almost eight at night.
"Where have you been?! I've been worried sick!" Ron had yelled, jumping off the couch. She simply dumped her stuff on the floor and replied, "Long day at work. Have you finished dinner?"
"No, I - Hermione! Listen to me!" Ron had chased after her into the kitchen, where she was grabbing things from cupboards, tossing them about. " Hermione!" He grabbed her, shoving her into the counter.
Before he knew what happened, his wife's wand was at his throat, the sobbing witch was glaring at him. "Don't. Touch. Me." She hissed.
"Hermione, " He called as she stormed out of the room. "Hermione!" He grabbed her wrist, pulling her back. She slipped, landing on the couch behind her. "Hermione, we need to talk. Where were you? I-"
Hermione tried to shake off his hand, but he wouldn't let go. "Ronald, please, I don't have the energy for this -"
"Yeah, but that's the issue, isn't it? You never have energy for anything anymore! You're unrecognizable. You leave for work early, stay late, never tell me where you are going - never tell me anything anymore. What happened?!"
"I-" suddenly the brunette slumped, stopping fighting. Tears filled her eyes. "I'm sorry. I… I can't do this - be here, be with you. I need a break. I need.. to find me, to find my life." And with that, the witch got up and went into the bedroom. She spent the next hour packing up her things into her beaded bag.
Ron sat on the couch, dumbstruck, as she turned around, front door open,. "Bye, Ron," she said. The door closed.
The next few weeks passed in a blur. Ron had barely eaten, been distracted at work, and generally felt numb. The apartment felt empty, he felt so lonely. He was still a mid-level auror, and his pay wasn't enough to cover the rent of the flat he had shared with Hermione. He'd had to move to a smaller place, which had actually felt good, like he was moving on.
Now, exactly three years later, he was sitting in the burrow, starting at his now ex-wife.
Heartbreak does strange things to people. There is so much pain that hits, that's first. Then, anger covers you. At yourself, at your significant other - at the world. The anger burns till it's the only thing you can see, can feel. It consumes you - masking the pain. But eventually, ever so slowly, the anger fades leaving behind a dull ache and a sense of regret.
That's all the remained when I left him, three years after the war.
War. That also does things to people, changes them. It changed me.
Hermione stared at the prologue of her book. This was the final, published version. The next day, she would present it to the magical community, which would be May 2nd, 2003 - the five year anniversary of the second wizarding war. She turned to chapter one.
I grew up alone in the muggle world. When I finally arrived at Hogwarts, it felt like a breath of fresh air - a new chance. Unfortunately, I was alone as ever. Some of my classmates disliked me for my muggle-born status, others because I was a "nightmare" and "know-it-all."
On Halloween of my first year, I got locked in a bathroom with a troll. That is when my future best friends, Ron Weasley and Harry Potter, came in and saved me.
Smiling, Hermione read the familiar words. She spent hours agonizing over the specific wording, description of each nightmarish moment - and scattered throughout were how the boys had become her family, how the Weasley's were all she had.
When Hermione had embarked on the book-writing journey, she had hoped it would help her find herself, hoped she would discover who she really was.
After first year, I went back home to my modest mingle home. I saw my old friends, read my old books, and exchanged letters with Harry and Ron. Yet, I'd never felt more alone. I realized that I didn't fit in even remotely in my mingle family. When I was at Hogwarts, I was so happy to be where I belonged - despite the severe bullying from one Draco Malfoy.
The next few chapters Hermione skipped, since they recounted her years at Hogwarts. She knew what they said, all of it, how she reflected back on the clues about Voldemort - and about how she didn't even spend time thinking about who she was because she was so focused on saving Harry and the wizarding world.
Almost immediately after she had left Ron, she had begun the book. First, she went to stay with her parents in Australia for a week (after restoring their memory once the war ended, they had decided to remain in their new life) before embarking on a short tour of southern Asia. When she eventually returned to Britain, she was now jobless, homeless, and due to apply for a divorce.
Hermione had rented a small studio apartment in Sutton, London. She spent most of each day writing, writing, writing the book. One day Ginny came to visit her.
"What are you doing with your life, Hermione? I love, you know that," The redhead screeched, "but look around you. Your place is crumbling, you're almost out of money - you are miserable. I get that you left Ron, I don't understand why but you did, however that doesn't excuse you from living!"
Hermione had broken down in tears, "Ginny (sob). God, Ginny, I don't know what to do. (Sob) I threw away my job of a year and a half, in which (sob) I had passed multiple bills for house elves (sob) in my first year, then sat and wasted away for months, fighting constantly with my husband!"
"Shhhh Herrmione, loves you, he'll rehire you. You know that." Ginny cooed, holding her old friend. The two women hadn't spoken in months, beside a couple breif floo calls concerning the weather and daily activities.
That was in September, 2000. By New Years, Hermione was working for the Ministry in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Yes, she'd had to start at a fairly low level, but Hermione's intelligence and hard work paid off. Eventually, the brunette could afford to move to a two bedroom flat in Westminster. The river was in walking distance, and from her bed she could see St. James' Park. Yes, it was small, but the location was perfect. Hermione was in her element. She spent eight hours a day at work, spent her free time working on and editing her book, and meeting up with Harry and Ginny every so often. She saw Percy a few times around the ministry, George came to visit her flat one day around Christmas to say hi and bring round his fiancé, Angelina Johnson. In fact, the only Weasley she hadn't seen at some time or another was Ron.
On New Years, Hermione was sitting on the roof of her apartment building. Mrs. Weasley had invited Hermione to the Burrow numerous times, but Hermione simply felt too awkward. Instead, she chose to read Hogwarts; A History and watch the fireworks. To her surprise, around ten minutes till midnight, a few people had joined her on the roof. They were hissing to one another in French on the far corner, and something about them felt familiar but she couldn't figure out quite what it was.
When the fireworks went off, lighting up the dark sky and children yelled through the night, she made a simple wish out to the universe, please let Ron be safe and comforted in the knowledge I will forever love him. Let him know that this was more than a break up, this was a best friend breakup.