Chapter 1: Heartbreak at Tiffany's

This chapter is dedicated to EvangelineLanae. I got her hooked to Wattpad, she got me hooked to fanfictions :)

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"Don’t trust too much. Don’t love too much. Don’t hope too much. Because that too much can hurt you so much"  -Unknown

            “Hermione...,”Ron started as he toyed with his cup of coffee.

            “Yes, Ron? Is everything okay?” Hermione asked cautiously as she sipped het latte.  A sigh passed her lips as she relaxed onto the comfortable chair. She was sitting in her favorite muggle café, The Quaint Corner, located on Old Bond St, London across from her favorite jewelry shop “Tiffany & Co.”.

            “I...I can’t do this”.

            Hermione look at him curiously.  “Oh if you don’t like it here, we could always go to The Leaky Cauldron”, she suggested, slightly disappointed that he didn’t like her favorite café, yet wondering why he looked so worried about such a trifle matter.

            “No. Not that,” Ron said loudly.

            After what seemed like ages, Ron uttered those four life changing, heart shattering words.

            “I can’t marry you,” he whispered softly. “It’s just that you are the second person I’ve dated and I’m your first. Maybe we need to explore some more before we settle down,” he explained hurriedly.

            Hermione looked at him in shock, unable to speak.

            “I mean, there is just no fire in our relationship, you know?” continued Ron. “And you’re just...,” he trailed off.

            “I’m what?”, Hermione asked quietly, finding her voice.

            Ron remained silent.

            “What am I, Ron?” asked Hermione, getting slightly louder.

            “Well...You are sort of boring! I mean, all you ever want to do is read. And you’re always nagging me on everything, how I eat, when I come home, what I do. And you...you...you dress worse than my mum!”.

            Hermione felt like someone just slapped her. She felt as if all the oxygen from the room was just sucked out.

            “Stop before you make yourself sound any shallower than you already are. I’m sorry that I couldn’t meet your shallow requirements. I’m sorry that I’m not an idiotic veela that you always wanted me to be. And most of all, I’m sorry that I ever thought that you were the man of my dreams. And you know what, I’ll make it easier on you,” she said as she began to pull off her ring. “But you have to tell your family”.

            Ron grimaced, “I’m sorry, Hermione”.

            “Me too, Ron”, she said, trying to hold back tears that threatened to spill, at least until she exited the café.  As she stood up to leave, realization hit her. “That’s why he asked me to come to my favorite muggle café, even though he clearly hated it here. So that I can’t set canaries, or hippogiffs in this case, on him. Stupid Git,” she thought angrily.

            When she reached the door, she turned around and called out, “Oh, and Ron, you honestly don’t think you were my first boyfriend, do you? Does Viktor Krum ring a bell?”

            And with that, she walked out of the Café, slamming the door on the shocked door of her ex-fiancé.

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            The second she got home, she magicked all of Ron’s belongings to fit inside on box, set it outside the door of their apartment, and cast a spell on the lock so that Ron couldn’t open it.

            After all was said and done, she dropped onto a nearby sofa and let the tears loose.

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            As the early rays of sunlight splashed through the window and onto Hermione’s face, her eyes fluttered open. She sat up and wondered what she was doing on a sofa with tear streaks running down her face. The reality het her and with it came another wave of tears.

            After her eyes dried, she walked over to the bathroom to splash her face with water.  When she glanced at the mirror, a stranger with puffy bloodshot eyes and bushy hair looked back at her.

            “Ron, you insipid, good for nothing oaf. You ruined everything!” she thought. Their wedding was supposed to take place within a month, exactly two weeks after Harry and Ginny’s wedding. She and Ginny had spent months planning the weddings, looking for the perfect dresses, the perfect color schemes, the perfect everything. In one month she was supposed to be Mrs. Hermione Weasley. It was supposed to be the day she had been fantasizing about since she was fifteen. And now, at 22, she was crying over the man she thought was her prince charming.

            “So what if I like to read? It’s better to be intelligent than to be a blumbering idiot like Lavender Brown. So what if I didn’t like to dress up every day? Shouldn’t inner beauty be considered more important than outer beauty?” she reasoned.

            “I’m done crying over Ron,” she told herself, as she made herself coffee and picked up the Daily Prophet. “I’m done crying over that stupid, shallow, pathetic git”. As she glanced at the front page of the Daily Prophet, her grip on her cup of coffee slackened and it, along with its contents, came shattering to the ground.