A/N: I am SO sorry this took so long to post. I've been way to busy and tried to make up for not posting this with other little fanfics. This chapter's not very long, but they'll get better, I promise. This is really just intro.

Chapter One: Down We Fall

Heartbroken. Angry as all hell. Furious. Absolutely furious. Boiling with indignance. Sad. But 'sad' wasn't the right word for it. 'Depressed' wasn't the right word either. Depression was a condition you could cure, sometimes, if you had the right medicine - or magic. This wasn't going to be cured so easily. What Hermione Granger felt when she climbed through the portrait hole to the Gryffindor common room and saw her best friend (and, coincidentally, the boy she'd been in love with for the past six years), Ron Weasley, with his tongue down Lavender Brown's throat (and in front of the entirety of Gryffindor house, no less!) can not be described with mere words. It was the kind of feeling you can only fully understand when you've experienced it yourself.

It was the kind of feeling so strong that it distorts your senses. She seemed to go temporarily blind, there was peculiar sort of roaring in her ears, a biter taste in the back of her throat, and she could have sworn she smelled blood. Then she turned and ran, pulling open the portrait, tumbling back into the corridor; she ignored the Fat Lady's kindly, 'Are you all right, dear?' and tore off down the hall in search of somewhere safe - somewhere to hide.

-

Hermione Jane Granger barely ever lost control. There were only two things - or rather, two people in the world who could truly make her do so. Harry and Ron.

She worried constantly about Harry, after all, he was the Boy-Who-Lived. Half the wizarding world was after his blood. He was also the best friend she could (usually) confide in, and she wasn't sure what she would do if something happened to him.

Ron, on the other hand, was different. She worried about Ron, too, of course, he was in as much danger as Harry (as was she), but she hadn't exactly fallen unintentionally and irrevocably in love with Harry, either. For some twisted reason which she couldn't even explain to herself, she had chosen Ron.

And, at that very moment, while she sat on a long-since abandoned teacher's desk, which happened o be coated in about a centimeter of dust, he was happily squashed into an armchair by the fire with Lavender, who happened to be very pretty and knew how to apply makeup - something Hermione had never quite mastered - and, besides that, had a rather strategically altered uniform, which showed off a body most of the girl in Hogwarts would kill for. Hermione did now have a perfect body, by any means. Not that hers was bad, or unattractive - but she was very small, less curvy than Lavender, and there was a huge height difference between her and Ron, which, up until now, she had rather liked. But he was making it painfully obvious that he liked taller girls. She could never measure up to Lavender, even if she tried, which was why she didn't.

Not wanting to wallow in self-pity any more than absolutely necessary, she cast about for something else to do. What were they doing in Transfiguration? Ah, yes - conjuring birds. She could practice that - not that she needed to.

Almost lazily, she flicked her wand, and six, flawless yellow birds materialized in the air in front of her. They began to circle her head, twittering in a rather irritating fashion. She didn't mind. At least now she had company.

After about five minutes, more company burst through the door. Not unwelcome company, exactly, but she didn't feel like talking to anyone right now, not even Harry.

"Hermione?" he said softly, almost nervously.

"Oh, hello Harry," she said in a brittle voice. "I was just practicing." Harry looked at her uncomfortably, though not unsympathetically. She could tell he was trying to find the right words to console her, but boys will be boys, and Harry was no exception.

"Yeah," he said, awkwardly. "They're - er - really good." She sighed. She knew the birds were good - she didn't need anyone telling her that. She suddenly wished that she could talk to Ginny right now. Ginny was good with boys, having grown up with six of them - including Ron himself. Hermione was good with feelings, and interpreting people's actions, but Ron wasn't that easy. Ron had to play mind games, even if he didn't meant to. Ginny would know what was going on. Harry wasn't much help when it came to these things, but he was male after all, and might understand what the hell was going through Ron's head. Trying to keep her voice light, she said,

"Ron seems to be enjoying the celebrations." She could physically see Harry grow more uncomfortable.

"Er...does he?" Harry said. So that was how he wanted to play it, then? She would have to be more straightforward.

"Don't pretend you didn't see him," she said bitterly. "He wasn't exactly hiding it, was - " But just then, the most unwelcome company of all arrived, at the least convenient time possible. Voldemort himself would've been granted a better reception.

It was Ron, laughing, and pulling Lavender in his wake. Harry flinched.

"Oh,"said Ron, drawing up short at the sight of Harry and Hermione, the latter of which was busy giving Lavender a glare so intense that none of them had any doubt that if looks could kill, the blonde would already be six feet underground. Fortunately, Lavender could take a hint.

"Oops!" she giggled, backing out through the door behind her. Hermione turned her gaze towards Ron, who avoided her hurt brown eyes and instead turned his attention to Harry.

"Hi, Harry!" he said, as though Hermione weren't there. "Wondered where you'd gotten to!" Harry cast a pleading look at Hermione, but she'd slid off of the desk and was walking very slowly and erectly towards the door, careful not to look at either of them. Her look of intense fury was so strong that not even the canaries, still circling her head, could make her look comical. Then she paused and looked back at Ron.

"You shouldn't leave Lavender waiting outside," she said, very softly, barely concealed hurt lacing her voice. "She wonder where you've gone." A barely-concealed look of relief swept across Ron's freckled features, and she could tell he was glad she hadn't overreacted. Well good. She was learning to control her emotions better.

Hermione made it three more steps, to the door, before her self-restraint completely dissolved. He deserved this, and he knew it. She whirled around, her expression wild, and jabbed her wand in Ron's direction.

"Oppugno!" She shrieked, eyes burning. Her little flock of canaries stopped fluttering stupidly about her head and instead, sped towards Ron, who yelped and covered his face with his hands. But the birds attacked, pecking at every inch of bare skin they could reach.

"Gerroffme!" he yelled, but Hermione simply threw him one last blistering glare before turning on her heal and pushing blindly through the door, then bursting into a violent flood of tears.

She hadn't counted on Lavender waiting there for her.

A/N: So? How was it? Review! Chapter two's half-way finished.