A.N. - Okie, so this is eventually HG/SB. But that's not very evident in these first few chapters. I debated on uploading because I planned on writing it all before I posted, that way, I wouldn't fell guilty if I wasn't in the mood for writing. Which is what has happened on my other story. I'm not in the mood for writing it. So it would be on hiatus. But this particular writing is flowing veryyy well. So, expect more soon. And review, let me know what you think. It's my first attempt at writing anything angsty, and I tried very hard to stay away from it being cheesy. I'm going to rate this T for language for now, but I may have a lemon much later on, and up this to M. So anyways, enough of my chatter, the story!

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They haunted her day and night. The misery she was surrounded in. The grief she felt, but couldn't express. The days she would wake up and lie in silence, wondering if there was something she could've done.

The people she lost. The changes. Her hopes and dreams of a future, shattered.

The war had taken it's toll. The light side had been victorious, but that didn't matter. Hermione had lost Ron. All of her hopes and dreams. They were going to start a family. But now Ron was gone, and she was all alone.

Harry was an Auror, as he always planned to be. Ron had been his partner in crime. Until they had cornered Bellatrix Lestange. And she had murdered Ron.

Harry and Hermione had tried to move through the grief. Hermione threw herself into her job at the ministry. But it didn't help. Nightmares haunted her, she would see his face, hear his voice, feel his touch on her skin. But it was only her memories. Her memories.

That was all she had left these days.

"Hermione, everyone's here for the meeting if you'd like to come join us," yelled Harry from the end of the hallway in Grimmauld Place. Once Ron was gone, he invited Hermione to come stay at his house, assuming that living in their old flat might be difficult for her. He was right.

If Hermione had heard him, she made no response, but this didn't seem to be out of the norm, and Harry went about his business.

Hermione sat in the dark, in pajama pants and one of his old shirts. It didn't smell like him anymore. Nothing could bring him back anymore. The only time she could remember were in her nightmares. She would see him dead, and herself alone. He couldn't save her anymore.

She had gotten a muggle doctor to prescribe painkillers. Desperate times. The Dreamless Sleep potion didn't help anymore. She was immune to the relief it could offer.

None of the others knew, she would never tell them. They thought she was withdrawn, thinner. But they didn't worry. Hermione would be fine. She was the strong one. Hermione chuckled at this thought. Always the strong one. Always the smart one. None of that mattered when you were in the real world.

Hermione rolled over and buried her face in the pillow, and wished she could muffle a scream, show any form of emotion. She was silent. She couldn't. There was an emptiness. She was hollow. Unfeeling.

She wasn't a person anymore. In her mind, she was as a person kissed by a dementor. Soulless.

Hermione lifted her head up from the pillow and rolled over onto her back, and stared at the ceiling. Something had to give. She was going insane.

Who was she kidding? She was already insane.

Harry walked back up the stairs. Normally he would let Hermione wallow in her own pity. This time was different. He had made up his mind while he lay awake in the early hours of the morning. Hermione was not the only one who suffered from demons. They all hurt. It was still painful. But they had to live. Move on. Never forget. But move on just the same.

Hermione was still facing the ceiling when Harry walked in the room. She made no signs to show she recognized he was there. He went and sat down on the edge of the bed. Her face was expressionless, and for some reason, it made him want to cry. He had already lost one best friend, and from the looks of it, he was close to loosing the other one. His hand went to smooth Hermione's tangled curls from around her face, and she didn't even flinch when he touched her. No reaction at all.

He set his mouth in a grim line and thought about what he would have to do. Hermione was not that brave, charismatic girl anymore. She was at a loss. The floor of her world had caved in. She had planned on living with the man she loved for the rest of her life.

Harry wondered if he could ask Kingsley if he had any positions at the ministry open. Hermione had done excellent on her NEWTS, and she had been top of the class. Living here holed up in her room every waking moment wasn't good for her. She needed to be around other people, and a job would make her start thinking again. Hell, he thought to himself, maybe she would find some pleasure in something again. Merlin knows she needs something to be happy about.

"Hermione, Mrs. Weasley made dinner, and she said would do some... cruel things if I didn't come back downstairs with you. No matter what you said. So come on, I'm hungry, and Wingardium Leviosa is an option," said Harry with a smile.

Hermione's thoughts drifted. She remembered the Charms lesson where Ron had made her cry. She smiled and Harry thought he had managed to cheer her up some. But the smile quickly faded and Harry look at her quizzically.

Hermione's voice rasped, "I don't feel like it." Maybe he would leave her alone. She kept staring at the ceiling. Harry sat there, staring at her deliberately. Hermione gave in and looked over at him. He looked tired. His hair was sticking up like it usually did. His scar didn't stand out anymore. It had faded. He had changed out of his Auror robes and into jeans and an old sweater. He was staring at Hermione with pity in his eyes. Something inside of her roared. She didn't want to be pitied. She may not have been a person anymore, but she wasn't deserving of their pity. She wasn't that pathetic yet, was she?

With a sudden impulse, she sat up, startling Harry. She ran her fingers through her hair, and swung her legs off the edge of the bed, now sitting beside Harry. He looked at her, either with fear or amazement, she wasn't sure. She chuckled in her head when she realized he thought he wasn't going to be able to convince her to come to dinner. In a display that shocked them both, she leaned over, and put her head on his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around her back for a second, and then she sat up again, and moved his arm, standing up slowly. He hadn't realized how tiny she was now. How it looked as if he could break her by even touching her arm.

She gestured with her head towards the stairwell, and Harry stood up and walked beside her. He didn't even care that she was coming to dinner in her pajamas, as long as she was coming.

Mrs. Weasley was bustling around, setting out platters, and cauldrons of food and drinks. Ginny was setting out the silver-wear, weaving in and out of her mother and all of the other guests. Arthur Weasley was sitting at the head of the table, conversing with Remus Lupin and Bill Weasley. Fleur Delacour was sitting next to Nymphadora Tonks and giggling at something Tonks was telling her about. Mad-Eyed Moody was looking especially hard at the twins, who were whispering to each other. They all looked happy, and content. It made Hermione feel like she didn't belong. Her first reaction was to bolt, and run back to her room, but she resisted. There would only be more pity if she did that.

No one had noticed she and Harry had walked in, so Harry cleared his throat, and everyone looked up. Silence met Hermione's ears as everyone stared at her. She wanted to fidget, and bolt, and just get away from all the staring, but the old Hermione wouldn't let her. So she stood there, and after what seemed like an infinity of silence, but was really only about ten seconds, Mrs. Weasley's face lit up when she saw that Hermione had made an appearance.

"Hermione darling! You've decided to join us tonight. Come on, come on, that rights, over here by Ginny and I, we'll pull you up a chair. Ginny, go get Hermione a chair!" barked Mrs. Weasley, still smiling. Hermione made her way over to the table, and everyone was still looking at her. She could only imagine what they were thinking. Remus Lupin started telling Mr. Weasley about a witch that he had met at The Leaky Cauldron coincidentally, it turned out she had gone to school with him, and soon everyone else was talking, leaving Hermione extremely grateful.

Harry sat on one side of Hermione, and Tonks sat on the other. Hermione looked at the food on her plate. She supposed it look appetizing. It didn't matter, she wasn't hungry. It had no taste, she didn't feel the hunger. Or maybe she did and it was one of the only ways she could feel anymore. She couldn't think.

She saw Harry looking at her. She supposed he wondered why she wasn't eating. She took a bite, to make him stop staring. A look of relief washed over his face, and it brought a small happiness to her. She didn't know why anymore. Hermione noticed how close Ginny and Harry were sitting. She wondered what was going on between the two of them. She just hoped they were as happy as she and R- She gasped. Harry looked at her worriedly. There she went again, thinking about Ron like he was still alive, and still hers. He was gone. She had to remember that. The tears rolled down her face, uncontrollably. She barely heard Harry ask her what was wrong.

She couldn't sit around them anymore. She had to be alone. She shoved the plate away from her and pushed the chair back. She abruptly fled to her bedroom.

Harry was hot on her heels, however, and managed to get his foot in between the door and the door frame before she shut and locked it. He looked at her, wonderingly, searching her eyes for answers. Why had she fled? She couldn't give him answers. She silently walked towards the bed, and lay down, looking up at the ceiling. Harry sighed, wondering if anything was ever going to get through to her. She had to move on. He would call a meeting to the order, to see if anyone knew how to help her. Cause at this point, he didn't know what the hell he was supposed to do.