A ring at the door

There was a ring at the door.

Hermione sighed. Her brown hair was loose and long, hanging below her chest, bouncing with every move. Her face was in her hands, and her throat raspy. With eyes that were ringed with tears, she slowly, achingly composed herself.

She smoothened out her black dress, breathing slowly in and out in the process. She was in the Living Room residing on the leather couch. Hermione tried to walk to the door, but instead only made it halfway, her legs giving out from under her.

She was drunk. Her hair hung over her eyes. She couldn't remember anything, not even the champagne she had.

But that didn't matter, someone was at the door, and she had to answer it. No matter how she looked. She forced her legs to move, her energy to start again.

Her body was groggy now, and it forced all her energy just to move one foot in front of the other. She stumbled, of course, into a table with a lamp resting atop of it. She tried to grab the lamp before it had fallen, but only managed to grab air for she was seeing double.

The extremely loud sound echoed throughout the two-bedroom apartment, causing Hermione to shriek at the sharp rumbling in her ears.

Steadily, she got back to the position in which she was headed toward the door. Hermione managed to get to the door, scramble with the handle, and open the door.

She gasped.

Harry Potter, her best friend since she had first met him at Hogwarts, was there, his face full of concern.

The last the thing she remembered was him jumping toward her, grabbing her as she fell and fell into a horrible blackout.

There was a gentle rubbing at her elbow, painful but covered her in waves of bliss. "Ron…" Hermione murmured.

But instead of a chuckle from the man she loved, there was a sighing groan. It was scarily familiar…

Harry. Harry was here. She knew that much.

Hermione awoke.

"Harry," She stated. Her voice cracked. She rubbed her eyes as if she were a child again and simply asked, "What are you doing here?"

Harry looked at her, his eyes searching for her to understand.

There

That's when Hermione began to remember.

Ron's face, completely mad and full of fury.

"Hermione," He said through clenched teeth. "I don't love you anymore. I want a divorce!"

Hermione's eyes widened.

"But, why?" She yelled back. "Who do you think you are? You can't do anything, you're stupid, you absolutely cannot use magic… You can't end this! But I can! I am better than you and I don't deserve you… You aren't a man, you're a coward! Just like the rest of you're family!"

Ron's eyes were burning no, his hands were balled into fists. He gave a cold glare toward Hermione and strutted off, opening and slamming the door behind him.

"A coward, I tell you!" Hermione ended with finality.

Hermione put her face in her hands.

Tears started pouring down her face. "Harry, what have I done?" She asked him helplessly. "What have I done…"

Harry stopped rubbing her elbow and moved to her shoulders, embracing her, giving her strength.

Hermione was confused, mad, but was somehow pleasured by the way he was caressing her, touching her.

Then he began to tell her stories, and adventures the two of them –Harry and Hermione, he was careful not to mention Ronald- had shared together. He was a great storyteller, describing the full moon the day they had discovered Lupin a werewolf. Memories of happiness overflowed throughout her mind.

Hermione and Harry competing for the title of favorite in Potion Making.

Hermione and Harry being accepted to be in the Club.

Hermione first meeting Harry in that bunker, his glasses broken, but she had managed to repair them with the basic spell 'oculus rapaero'.

Hermione outshining everybody in the class in her first year of Hogwarts.

But then, when he finally grew to an end of all the embarrassing or joyful stories, Hermione realized why he was telling her this, to make her forget of the present and live in the past.

She jumped up in refusal, outraged of what he was attempting to do.

"Stop." She commanded. He grew silent.

"I am only trying to he-"

"I don't need any help! I don't need anybody!" She stomped her foot like an infant. She clenched her hands. But she didn't remain standing, she fell to the ground, in the same position she was in a moment ago. Her face in her hands, weeping.

"I think you do," Harry commented.