All the Stories Are True / Dramione

Chapter 1

Mile marker 356.

After so many hours of driving the mile markers are beginning to blur together. The past 24 hours are starting to blur together as well. Where did it all go wrong? Have I really been spending that much time away from home with my studies? How have I not seen the problems that are now so glaringly obvious? Or did I just ignore them? My hands are starting to get sweaty with how hard I'm gripping the steering wheel before I remember to breathe and loosen my grip.

I thought that having this time alone to think and process would help me understand what exactly led Ron, my sweet and adoring boyfriend of 4 years, to invite Lavender Brown into our bed. OUR bed. Actually, now that I think about it, MY bed. I don't remember Ron offering to pay for the mattress. Or the sheets. Or anything that made our home more than the four walls that we lived in. Over the 4 years that we were together, and the 3 that we spent living together, it was me putting in the effort to build a life together. Me asking, and doing, and wanting, and begging. Not Ron.

All of that work, blown to bits after hearing them coo and murmur their love and affection for each other while they fucked in my bed. In the home that I own.

I packed the clothes that could fit in my suitcase and anything valuable in my car and left Ron scrambling behind me trying to pull his clothes on and tell me "It isn't what it looks like 'Mione" while Lavender had the audacity to glare at me like she wasn't covering herself with my own sheets that I woke up in that morning.

All of the late nights where Ron was supposedly working on big projects with "the team" make a lot more sense now. When had Ron ever put any extra effort into work? My guess is that every time he claimed to be pulling late nights at work he was somewhere with Lavender. The fucking prick.

They can sod off, the both of them. I told them as such, right before telling Ron that he would need to find a new place to live before the week was up.

Not that I plan on returning, it just felt good to leave him even more flustered than he already was. I'll have to start the process of getting everything cleared out to sell soon. Add it to the growing list of things racing through my mind at the moment.

After I pulled out of our driveway and left a red faced Ron in the street behind me, a calm settled over me. Looking back I would have expected the tears, the anger, the screaming or throwing things. But I think in my heart, and most importantly my head, that I knew things were over a long time ago. So as I drove away from everything that I've known over the past four years I called the one person that I knew would have the answers to questions I wouldn't even think of.

"Well well, if it isn't the infamous Hermione Granger. It's been a while, how are you love?"

"Not good, Pansy. Not good at all."

Mile marker 394.

Reading stories about a heroine escaping and getting to live her best life seems so simple and joyous in books. Turns out when you do it in real life it's terrifying. My reality is settling in now as I stop to get gas for the second time since leaving. I pull off the interstate and into the first gas station I find for some sweets and to stretch my legs while filling up the car.

Leave it to Pansy Parkinson to have the perfect answer for my upheaved life. I spent three minutes on the phone with her and she convinced me to drive back home to help her with her newest adventure, a bookstore cafe. She has big plans and thinks that with me there with her to help, it will take off faster than her dad's second wife.

Even after reminding her that my only experience with coffee is drinking it out of the pot to keep me from falling asleep while I'm working, she didn't care. I have to say that the idea of spending my days surrounded by books is enticing but I'm still hesitant. Pansy is known for her schemes, and this has disaster written in neon green all over it.

So here I am, 2 hours out from Pansy's house, not a detailed itinerary in sight, and the panic is starting to creep in. What the fuck am I doing? Is this the right move? When have I ever just ran off without thinking things through?

As if she can hear my inner monologue from 150 miles away my phone lights up with her name and a picture of us from 7th grade, smiling and holding each other without a care in the world. I debate sending her to voicemail so I can have my anxiety spiral in peace but I know Pansy, she'll just keep calling me until I answer. And if I don't then she'll come and find me herself and pester me in person.

"Hey Pans" I huff out as I finish up at the gas pump.

"Well that doesn't sound like a girl who is excited to see her absolute favorite person in, oh what is it now, 1 hour and 57 minutes according to your GPS? How's the drive been?" Pansy practically sings through the speaker.

I've forgotten how effective Pansy is at turning my moods around. I'm left wondering why in the world I allowed Ron to put a wedge between our friendship. Let's add that to my growing list of things I put up with in that relationship.

"Really good actually. Very boring, but I'll take miles and miles of trees and woods over bumper to bumper traffic. Do you need me to pick anything up on my way in?"

"Nope. I have absolutely everything that you'll need waiting for you here." Pansy's voice has taken on a girlish giggle, which can only mean one thing.

"Pansy please tell me that there are no ulterior motives here besides giving me a place to bounce back. You have your meddling voice on right now." my head falls back as I think through the possibilities of what she could possibly be plotting for me.

"When have I ever steered you wrong, Golden Girl?"

"Um, I can think of seven different moments where your ideas ended with us in very sticky situations. One where we had to sweet talk our way out of a jail cell for the night."

I'm starting to wonder if it would be better for my mental health to go back and deal with the Ron situation now and in person than whatever Pansy is planning for us.

"Mmhmm, let's leave that in the past now. Anyways, just wanted to check on you. See you soon sweets!"

She clicks off the phone before I have a chance to question her anymore and I let out possibly the biggest sigh of the day.

"This is a good idea. A fresh start." I tell myself.

It's a chance to reconnect with Pans and see what trouble she can get me into, and what trouble I can get her out of.

An opportunity to heal myself from the holes that Ron carved out of me these past four years.

I roll the windows down as I hop back in the car. With one last centering breath I feel the pressure in my chest ease, what could be so bad about going back home?

I ease back onto the interstate and a smile slowly breaks onto my face as I pass mile marker 395.

"I'm coming for you Pansy" I whisper to myself.