"Ron, what the bloody hell were you thinking?!" Hermione shouted, tears streaming down her face, her hair unruly as she threw her clothes into her trunk hurriedly.

Ron just sat there in stunned silence.

What the bloody hell was I thinking?

Harry stayed out of this one, he had never screwed up this bad, but he felt sorry for Ron now, he knew Hermione could be vicious when she wanted to.

"I just don't bloody understand, Ron! Answer me! Why?" she screamed, falling to her knees by her trunk, looking him dead in the eye. His eyes became glassy as he realized what he had done, and how bad he had hurt her.

"I—I don't know." He said, suddenly dropping his gaze to the floor as a tear escaped his eye.

"Well that's not good enough this time," Hermione said simply, shutting her trunk and climbing out of the entrance to the Griffindor Common Room. She adjusted her robes and stormed down the hall, not bothering to answer Ginny's pleas of confusion. Hermione went out the main entrance to Hogwarts, though it was past curfew, and made her way to the edge of the grounds, planning to go to Hogsmeade until she could catch a train back home.

Once she got to the gates, she muttered a spell that only she as a prefect knew, to leave the grounds after hours, straightened her hair a bit, wiped her eyes, and stormed into the silent streets of Hogsmeade. She decided to head down to The Three Broomsticks, where there was always a room to rent at night, no matter who you were, but you had to be the legal wizard age, 17. Luckily, Hermione's birthday had been the previous month, so she was allowed by wizarding law to leave school and do whatever she pleased. Though she knew she wasn't ready, she just had to go somewhere.

Anywhere else.

---------------------------------------------

"Ron! What the bloody hell did you do now?" Ginny demanded as she climbed through the entrance to the Common Room.

He just sat there in stunned silence. She had actually cracked. Hermione left. She really left.

She really left.

Harry gently took a fuming Ginny to the side and explained everything as Ron stared into the dying fire, contemplating what to do next.

I have to find her.

Now.

Ron got up and grabbed his scarf, but Ginny grabbed him, spun him around and slapped him hard across the face, the blow coming as a hard, but welcome return to reality.

"Where the hell do you think you're going? To find her? Do you really think she wants to talk to a git like you right now? Do you really think anyone would want to talk to a git like you right now? Because I know I sure as hell don't want to, but somebody has to keep you from doing even more damage."

"I guess you're right," he muttered his first words in an hour.

"Bloody hell, Ron. Why?" Ginny asked calmly.

"I—I…." he stammered.

" 'I' what exactly?" she demanded.

"I—wish I knew."