Written for the Random Quotes Challenge, using all three of my prompts:

"So dawn goes down to day. / Nothing gold can stay." - Robert Frost, Nothing gold can stay

"The music in my heart I bore, / Long after it was heard no more." - William Wordsworth, The Solitary Reaper

"There is no glory in illness. There is no meaning to it. There is no honour in dying of." - John Green, The Fault In Our Stars

The mirror was cracked down the right side, jagged and missing a chunk. He remembered that fight. Neither of them had ever gotten around to fixing it, and frankly, he didn't remember how. Hermione was the expert anyway.

He frowned at himself in the mirror.

Bloody hell, when had he gotten so old?

"Ronald Weasley, I will leave without you!" Hermione shouted from downstairs. Ron sighed, giving up on the tie.

"Coming!" he shouted back, running his hand through his hair once more before heading to the front door. She frowned darkly at him, and he wanted to scream, "You knew I'm never on time when you married me so piss off!" But he didn't, because that would start Another Fight, and he didn't want to be turned into a frog again. They were already late anyway.

So he kept his face neutral as she inspected him. She frowned deeper, flicking her wand at him before stalking out the door. He choked, tugging the tie looser, and hurried after her, shooting his best icy glare at the back of her head.

Stopping just outside the wards, she held out her hand and he stared down at it incomprehensibly, and then back up at her. She rolled her eyes and grabbed his hand.

For a second he remembered what it had been like to be Young and In Love, but then they were turning and when it stopped, her hand was gone.

He hurried after her, toward the music. She didn't say anything, but her jaw was tight, and he knew she wanted to. He rolled his eyes.

"I remember the rules, 'Mione. No magic, no wizards, no calling attention to the fact that I know nothing about Muggles. Be discreet. Use my manners."

She frowned but looked satisfied. "It's for my cousin, Mary, and her fiancé, Aaron. You'll just be doing a lot of sitting quietly, then a lot of eating. It shouldn't be too difficult for you."

"Fantastic."

She had only had a wizard wedding, inviting her parents, but telling everyone else she had eloped.

She had grown up yearning for the Muggle version, its gentle simplicity, so carefree and beautiful.

That's not to say that her wedding wasn't beautiful. It had been lavender and white - a joke Harry used to laugh at - in late spring. Magic really was beautiful.

Her wedding had been perfect, one of the happiest moments of her life. She could remember every song, and she used to hum to the music in her head, long after the wedding had passed.

She sighed at her husband, who was currently filling his plate to the tipping point at the buffet table. Honestly. Did the man not know how ridiculous he looked?

She felt ridiculous, pretending nothing was wrong for all these people, and then returning home and ignoring each other.

What had gone wrong? she asked herself for the millionth time, and then internally snorted at herself. See? That's what all these years with Ron has done to you!

It wasn't just one thing that had gone wrong - it had been a collection of late nights and miscommunication; too much yelling and not enough listening. And now here they were, all the children out of the nest and nothing to say that could fix the huge gap between them.

Other couples were dancing, and she dragged her husband to the floor, ignoring his complaints. "We're supposed to dance," she hissed. He grumbled as he pulled her close. He had gotten acceptable at dancing for their wedding, and Hermione had liked it so much that they took lessons together as newlyweds, until she had gotten pregnant. But they hadn't stopped dancing until...she couldn't remember when they had quit.

Upset, she stopped suddenly, and he almost fell over. He glared at her, and she frowned back, blink away her tears. "You're doing it wrong," she whispered. He gaped at her, shaking his head.

"Hermione, I know how to dance."

"Apparently not," she shot back, knowing it wasn't fair, but not knowing how to stop. His face turned red and he glanced around angrily, gripping her arm tightly and pulling her away from the dance floor.

"What is your problem? You're the one who wanted to dance!" he accused.

"Yes, dance! Not bumble about like an idiot!"

His mouth dropped open. "Bumble - Bloody hell, 'Mione." He ran a hand through his hair. "This has got to stop!"

"What does?" she folded her arms across her chest, daring him to say it.

"This! Us!"

"Us? Oh, yes, lovely! Let's just get a divorce and risk ruining our children's grades!" she hissed.

His eyes grew wide. "Divorce? Bloody hell, that's not what I -"

"I don't know why you have to be so difficult! It's not hard to understand!"

"You're impossible to understand!" he insisted.

"And you're an idiot! You miss everything, even if it's right in front of your eyes! All the answers are so obvious!"

He frowned. "You knew I was like this when you married me!" he told her angrily.

"Yes, but I thought I could change you!" she snapped back. He looked as if he had been slapped, and she felt the scorn rising to replace her guilt. "Don't look so shocked! You act like I've changed, but you knew I was like this, too!"

He frowned at her. "Yeah, but you loved me back then."

And she felt her heart being ripped from her chest and smashed into pieces, like the mirror they broke last year and never fixed.

"Excuse me," Ron mumbled, his hand branding her shoulder as he passed. She turned to watch him say goodbye to Mary and Aaron, lying about a call from work. They all laughed loudly, and Hermione felt numb. Ron glanced at her briefly before he left, slinging his jacket over his shoulder and snatching an apple from the table.

She wanted to call out, to make him come back, but her voice had disappeared and her feet were glued to the floor.

He walked further away, into the red sun, growing smaller and less defined until all she could see was light.

"I do love you," she whispered, and felt two tears roll down her cheeks. She stared at the sun for a long while, soaking up the last of its heat, until she was suddenly bumped from behind.

"E'cuse me," a little girl giggled, running over into her daddy's arms. Hermione wanted to throw up, but instead she wiped at her eyes and straightened her dress. There was nothing honorable about dying of a broken heart. Especially at a wedding.

I think every marriage has the potential to become like this - Ron/Hermione even moreso, because of their opposing natures - but I am still an avid shipper of these two. I do not like Harmony for the simple fact that their friendship is beautiful, and Harry would be okay if his friends got together, but Ron would not. He was made for Hermione. But yes, they still should have counseling. Or a really long talk.

Might continue this story if I get enough good responses, but for now, it is complete. Review? :)