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Beneath Your Window by Crookshanks.x
 Books » Harry Potter Rated: T, English, Romance & Humor, Draco M., Hermione G., Words: 89k+, Favs: 1k+, Follows: 432, Published: Jun 10, 2007 Updated: Jun 6, 2008
 1,044 Chapter 1: The End
Disclaimer: I hereby declare that my name does not even resemble Joanne K. Rowling. In fact, I'm not even English. Heck, I'm not even HUMAN. Okey, scratch that last part...
Chapter 1 / The End
"I ... I don't love you any more."
The words echoed eerily throughout the room and a pair of chocolate eyes widened in horror as the words pounced their way into her ears. She threw her arms protectively over her chest, her mouth hanging slightly open as she panted heavily. The fight had exhausted her. She had thrown and received so many insults and accusations that she was physically exhausted and now he had thrown her the last agonizing blow. He had won, and she knew it.
She felt hot tears threaten to spill, and even if it was in no way logical, she didn't want him to see her hurt. Giving him a glare of pure loathing, she turned on her heel and bounced up the stairs.
"Hermione," he called after her, but she just burst into their bedroom with anger pulsating from every inch of her being.
Her suitcase was resting under their bed and she dragged it out with such force that she nearly tumbled backwards as it came shooting out. She regained her step and threw it forcefully on the bed. He came to a halt in the doorway when she began throwing her clothes into the suitcase. Hermione Granger never threw anything, and least of all her clothes. They were always meticulously folded and carefully placed on top of each other, whether in a suitcase or a wardrobe. But right now they were strewn all over the space of the suitcase, which had been magically enhanced to room more.
"Hermione, I had to say something..." he said in a hushed voice.
She gave him no notice. Instead, she had begun rounding up her books from every corner of the room, and brushed past him to find her belongings from anywhere else in the house.
"When you said you weren't pregnant, I was relieved," he said as he followed closely on her heel. He saw her freeze up for a moment before she strode into living room of their apartment. "I knew deep down... that this isn't right any more."
She closed her eyes in pain for a second and her shaking hands fumbled through the bookshelf in the far corner of the living room. They had tried to get pregnant for four months, but with no luck. Their last attempt had resulted in a negative test only three days prior. She had been heartbroken, he had been relieved. Her heart was throbbing painfully in her chest at the realisation, and for the first time in many months she thanked God for not bringing a child into the whole situation. The whole messy situation.
He continued to follow her around the apartment and back up the stairs as she dumped it all in her suitcase. His excuses rang in her ears, making her want to scream out to make it stop. They were all excuses for why and how, but there were no apologies and no regrets on her behalf. She knew he regretted having to go through this fight, she could tell it made him uncomfortable. But he did not regret any hurt he had caused her. That's when she realised she was not his top priority, and she might not have been for a long time.
"Were there someone else?" she asked suddenly, her voice surprisingly firm.
He was taken aback by her sudden question, and perhaps more so by the coldness in her voice. It was a tone he had not heard her use in a long time, not even towards people she didn't get along with. She was always polite and pleasant when she spoke, always intent on making a good impression no matter who she spoke to. He remained standing with his mouth opening and closing, knowing that the answer would make things even worse.
