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Don't Look Back in Anger by GinnyPotter25
Chapter 1 : Don't Look Back in Anger
 
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 9


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 (Disclaimer: The characters belong to Ms. Rowling and the song belongs to Oasis!)
   

   The sun was shining unusually brightly that morning, a direct contrast from the obnoxious sleet and snow that had pillaged London the previous day. Instead of taking cover in warm pubs, people were out in their lightest winter clothes, enjoying the sun whilst they could. After all, it was England, and you never did know when the weather gods were angered.



   Hermione Granger was one of the few people who didn’t look happy to be outside. She walked quickly, with her head bowed down. She was deep in thought. Today was an important day for her, and that one walk home was all the time she had to reflect on her decision, make sure it was the right one.


 


   But Hermione found herself not wanting to change her mind at all. She closed her eyes as she was bathed in yellow light. It reminded her of the warmth she had felt last night…and the heat that she had longed to experience and finally found. There was, of course, a voice in the back of head that warned her persistently that she was throwing away love for lust.



   But was she? Was last night mere passion? Was there not a flash of that abstract emotion that she had detected in her heart and caught in Draco’s eyes? Was the fire in her chest because Draco had made love to her, or because he loved her?


 


   Hermione reached the gates of the one-storied house that she and Ron had shared for so, so long. The wooden gates creaked as she pushed them open. As she began to trudge up the stone path that led to the front door, one question kept bouncing into her mind.


 


  Was Draco worth leaving Ron for?



   Hermione shivered in the warm sunlight and stared down at her feet, where the last traces of snow were melting along the street. And the answer just seeped into her.





Slip inside the eye of your mind
Don't you know you might find
A better place to play






 Ron Weasley sat at the kitchen table, staring at the front door. A plate of eggs sat in front of him, with a fork and knife in place. A glass of orange juice was placed beside it. The same arrangement had been done for the seat across from where Ron sat. Both breakfasts lay untouched. Ron could not eat.



   Ever since he had woken up the morning before, his mind had been clouded by panic. The bed where Hermione should have been, he had found empty. The clothes she had put out to wear the night before that had disappeared, so he knew she had left the house. Slightly uneasy, Ron had thought that she must have left for work before he had woken up. But Hermione had never come back home.



   Worried, he had called Harry and Ginny, then the Burrow, and then Hermione’s parents. None of them had seen or had any contact with her that day. He even called the Ministry to ask if she had been in that day, but was told that she had been absent without giving any reason.


 


   Harry had told him to wait a day, and then contact the Muggle police and Aurors if she didn’t appear. Hard as it was, Ron had gone to bed alone, stricken and upset. Now he was sitting at the table, waiting for Hermione.



   The front door opened with a click. Ron started and jumped off his chair, just as Hermione walked in.


 


   Ron stared at her, shocked. Her hair was a mess, her clothes were bedraggled, and there was a strange scent around her. And when she looked at him, her eyes were terribly bright, like a fire had been lit in them. 





You said that you'd never been
But all the things that you've seen
Will slowly fade away






   He overcame his shock and walked up to her. “’Mione,” he said, putting a hand on her shoulder, “where were you? I’ve been worried sick!”


 


   Hermione didn’t answer him. She looked down at the hand he had laid on her shoulder. Then she pulled her coat off and walked past him into the kitchen. Confused, Ron followed her.


 


   “’Mione?” he asked, tentatively. “Are you okay?” He watched her sling her coat on the back of one of the chairs at the kitchen table. “’Mione?”



   When he got no answer still, he began to grow angry. “Why don’t you say anything?” he said, his voice rising slightly. “I’ve been going mad, calling people and worrying about where the hell you were, and you just breeze in the next morning like you went on a vacation, looking like this and not telling me anything! Do have any idea how worried –”



   “Oh. My. God.” Hermione finally spoke. Her voice shook. Her eyes were dark and Ron saw the fire in them again.



   “Will you STOP acting as if I’m two years old, Ronald?” Hermione said, venom in her words. “I can take care of myself. I don’t need you to call people and worry about me. All right?” She turned away from him and walked to the refrigerator. Ron stared as she pulled out a bottle of water, as nonchalant as if it was any other day, any other situation.



   “Are you saying,” Ron replied, angrily, “that I’m supposed to sit in front of the television and watch soaps while my WIFE is MISSING?” He shook his head. “Are you saying it’s MY fault for getting WORRIED about my WIFE?”



   Hermione rolled her eyes. “I’m so sorry, next time I want to disappear, I’ll make sure I divorce you first, so you don’t have to worry about me. Since I won’t be your WIFE.” She began to stalk past him, when Ron caught her firmly by the arm. His eyes were hard, and his face was angrier than Hermione had ever seen it.



   “Don’t even THINK you can strut away from me like that.” Ron held her tightly before him, his hands holding her arms and his eyes holding hers. “Tell me where the fuck you’ve been. And don’t lie to me. I’m not stupid, despite what you might think.”



   He saw her lips tremble slightly. “Let me go Ron.”



   “Not until you answer me.”



   “Let me GO!” Hermione shrieked, derisively. She twisted in his grasp, trying to escape. “I don’t want you! I don’t love you! I’m not your WIFE!”





So I start a revolution from my bed
'Cause you said the Brains I had went to my head
Step outside the summertime's in bloom
Stand up beside the fireplace
Take that look from off your face
You ain't ever gonna burn my heart out






   Ron staggered. “You don’t love me?” he stared down at her, his heart pounding. “’Mione, what are you saying?”


 


   Hermione burst into tears and Ron let go of her. She pushed him away and stumbled to the table, almost falling into the chair. “I mean it Ron. I mean it. Leave me alone,” she whispered, her voice muffling as she buried her face in her hands. Her hair fell over it, covering her from Ron’s view.


 


   Ron moved to her and kneeled at her feet. “Hermione, love, are you saying all this because I swore at you?” He lightly stroked her tangled hair. “I was worried ‘Mione, I only wanted to make sure you were okay. I’m sorry. Please, don’t be mad. I love you,” he added, trying to shift her fingers away from her face.



   Hermione let out a muffled wail. “Don’t SAY that!” She brushed furiously at her tears and stared at him. “Don’t, please, please! I don’t deserve that!” She began to sob harder, wrapping her arms around her trembling body.



   Flummoxed, Ron stood up and pulled another chair up so he could sit by her. “Hermione, what happened? Will you just please tell me? I won’t be mad, if that’s what you’re worried about.”



  Hermione shook her head. “Ron you WILL be mad. Because I’m a terrible, terrible person. But the worst part,” she began to cry again, tears streaming from her eyes, “is that I’m not even sorry! And that I’m going to do so much worse!”



   “What is it?” Ron’s questioning look did it. Hermione could hold it in no longer. Wiping the tears off her face with shaking fingers, Hermione looked into his blue eyes.



   She took a deep breath.



   And then she told him the truth.


 


So Sally can wait, she knows it's too late as we're walking on by
Her soul slides away, but don't look back in anger
I heard you say






   Tears poured from Hermione’s eyes as she stood at the bottom of the stairs. All around her things were broken, torn, on their hinges…destroyed. But nothing was in a worse state than Ron.


 


   She heard him swear, followed by a loud crash. She winced. When she had told him where she had been the day before, Ron had sat in his chair, wordlessly staring at the floor.


 


   When she had told him what she had been doing the night before, Ron’s knuckles had whitened, and the color had drained his face.


 


   When she told him what she was going to do, Ron had raised his eyes and looked at her in a way that made her want to run a knife over her veins and end her life that very moment.



   Ron had then proceeded to smash every single object that crossed his path, belting out a long chain of swears as he blasted everything to smithereens. He didn’t even use his wand. It was pure physical violence, a way of letting out the anger he felt at Hermione, but that he couldn’t inflict on her.



   Now he was upstairs, trashing their bedroom. Hermione didn’t dare to go up. His eyes had been livid, and she knew that seeing her wouldn’t make him feel any calmer. It was better to let him drain his strength on non-living things before she talked to him again. Before she told him who it was that she was leaving him for.



   Because Hermione, in a fit of fear, hadn’t told him that tiny detail. If he found out it was Draco Malfoy she was leaving him for, Hermione was scared of two things. One, Ron would try to kill Draco. Two, he would try to convince her not to leave.



   Hermione didn’t know which of the two she was more afraid of.



   An even louder crash shattered Hermione’s reverie. She forgot about Ron’s fury and rushed up the stairs and into their bedroom. Ron was standing in front of the mirror, his chest heaving heavily, his eyes red, and his hands hanging on his sides. There was a stream of blood dripping steadily down his right hand. All around him were shards, big and small, of broken glass. Hermione gingerly walked up to him and saw that the large silver mirror that hung above her dresser was in pieces.



   “Oh my god,” she gasped, realizing what he had done. He had punched the mirror with his bare hands. Anger had given him strength and the mirror had spluttered glass in all direction, slashing Ron’s wrist in the process.



   She pulled the scarf she had been wearing from around her neck and ripped it down the middle. She took Ron’s bleeding wrist and was beginning to tie it around it when Ron pulled his arm away from her abruptly.



   Hermione had expected this. “Look Ron, I know you hate me right now, and I am in no way telling you not to. Just please let me bind this, or you’ll lose a lot of blood.” She gently took his hand. This time, he let her. She wrapped the scarf around the cut and bound it tightly. Then she wiped of the blood with her shirt. 




Take me to the place where you go
Where nobody knows,
If it's night or day






   “So you slept with him.”


 


   Hermione stopped. Her eyes widened and she took a step back from Ron.


 


   Ron let out a bark of the bitterest laughter possible. “I’m not going to hit you. I know I’ve let you down, and that I can’t give you the love you need, and I don’t make your heart race, and all those fucking things you seem to care about more than me, but I’m not an animal. If I wanted I could have hit you the second you told me, instead of creating this bloody mess. I didn’t then, and I’m not going to start now.” He turned away from her and sat down on the bed. He fell back onto the mattress and closed his eyes. “So you slept with him. Who was it?”



   Hermione looked at him cautiously. “I…I don’t think I should tell –”



   “Tell me.”



   “Draco Malfoy,” Hermione blurted out. She covered her mouth with her hands, her body turning cold. She was sure Ron would hit her now, regardless of everything he had just said.



   Ron began to laugh. He laughed and laughed and laughed. It wasn’t even the bitter laugh that had sliced her heart a moment ago. It was a laugh full of humor and jocundity. It was a laugh Ron might have laughed at any joke on any day. It wasn’t a laugh of a man who had just been told that his wife was leaving him for a man he had hated, loathed, and despised all his life.



   Hermione stared at him, confused and worried. “Ron?”



   Ron stopped laughing. His eyes remained closed. He sighed loudly.


 


Please don't put your life in the hands
Of a Rock 'n Roll band
Who'll throw it all away






   “Ron?”



   “You know what Hermione Granger? I’m not going to hit you.” Ron pushed himself so he was sitting and stared up at her.



   “I’m going to tell you to leave my house and leave my life. You know why? Because, Hermione Granger, I’ve spent a lot of time and energy loving you. And I’ve always thought it was strange that you seemed to love me back,” he added, conversationally, as if they were discussing Quidditch, or the next Weird Sisters concert.



   “Because, Hermione Granger, you are beautiful, smart, and everything I wanted. But guess what, Hermione Granger,” he repeated, looking at her with hard eyes, mockery suddenly in his voice, “you are ugly, stupid and everything I hate on the inside. You know why? Not because you slept with Draco Malfoy. Not because you’re leaving me to BE with Draco Malfoy. It’s because even after doing all of that, you think I’m pathetic enough to let you apologize for everything you’ve done and just let you go. You think I love you, so you can waltz in and stamp on me like I’m a fucking spider and just walk your merry way.”



   Ron smiled at her, but it was a smile that made Hermione want to die. “Well Hermione Granger, I’m not letting you walk away. I’m kicking you out of my life forever. Because, I loved you, I loved you SO, SO much. I would have given up anything in the world for you.”



   His smile faded. “Hermione, I can’t believe you did this to me. God, what the fuck is wrong with you? You wanted love? You wanted passion? You wanted sex? I would have GIVEN it to you. Everything you wanted. Did you ever say anything? Did you ever fucking TELL me how you FELT?”



“No you didn’t, Hermione.”






I'm gonna start the revolution from my bed
'Cause you said the Brains I had went to my head
Step outside ‘cause summertime's in bloom
Stand up beside the fireplace
Take that look from off your face
’Cause you ain't ever gonna burn my heart out






   Ron stood at the front door as Hermione walked down the stairs, lugging suitcases full of her things, whatever was left of them anyway. She hadn’t bothered to lighten them using magic. It was a weight she’d rather carry than the weight Ron had given her.



   She took in her surrounding one last time as she drew closer to the door. She remembered building this very house, brick by brick, room by room, with Ron. How quickly they had destroyed it! Ron had torn it down physically, but it was Hermione who had reached into the core of the home it had been and turned out the lights.



   One last time, she fluffed up a pillow in the living room.





So Sally can wait, she knows it's too late as she's walking on by.
My soul slides away, but don't look back in anger
I heard you say






   One last time, she cleared a plate of uneaten food of the kitchen table.





So Sally can wait, she knows it's too late as we're walking on by
Her soul slides away, but don't look back in anger
I heard you say






   One last time Hermione kissed Ron goodbye and walked out the front door.


 


And So Sally can wait, she knows it's too late and she's walking on by
My soul slides away, but don't look back in anger, don't look back in anger
I heard you say






   One last time, Hermione was Ron’s wife.


 


At least not today.






 [A/N: SO! This was the third part of the Hermione/Draco/Ron one-shot series I've been writing. I know, I know, no Draco equals bad reviews, but this is NOT the end! I will write more! I just felt like there needed to be a proper Hermione-Ron addition into this story. The next part will have enough Hermione-Draco to make up for it! So please, read and review! And let me know, as always, if you liked the song choice!]




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