Author's Note:: Wow! I can't thank you all enough! The response to this story has been better than I ever thought! Thank you all for reading, favoriting and following. It's because of you that I was inspired to write this chapter, and I hope you all enjoy it! I'd also like to thank yaslanagirl for being the best beta ever! Thank you for putting up with my late night ramblings!

Disclaimer:: I do not own Harry Potter, much to my sorrow. I make no profit off of the writing of this fan fiction.

All That I Have

Chapter 2

It had been two weeks. Two weeks since Ron had cut all romantic ties with Hermione. Neither one had spoken to one another since. In fact, Hermione hadn't spoken at all. That's what worried him. He knew the reason Ron had been quieter lately was him trying to avoid any fighting or more hysterics. But Hermione... Hermione had been unusually withdrawn, hiding herself away in one of the spare bedrooms at Grimmauld Place. Harry had offered her a room, seeing as her parents were still in Australia with fake names and memories, and giving her a choice that wasn't the Burrow. She'd simply nodded, and they'd moved her meager belongings in the next day.

Harry stared at the door to what he now mentally referred to as 'Hermione's Room', his thoughts spinning nervously around each other. This had gone on long enough. It was bad enough that his best friends weren't talking to each other, but at least Ron was still talking to him! Having come to the conclusion that something had to be done, regardless of the fact that he had no idea what, the Boy-Who-Lived-Again had marched straight up the stairs intending on putting a stop to the current situation. Now that he was facing the solid oak of her door, however, Harry quickly realized that he didn't have a clue on how to fix everything. In fact, he wasn't sure he was even brave enough to knock on the door.

People would be shocked to know that their hero, the Chosen One, the Savior of the Wizarding World, was afraid to knock on his best friend's door. What they didn't realize is that Voldemort and a thousand Dementors had nothing on an angry Hermione Granger, or even worse, a weeping one. Swallowing nervously, Harry raised his hand and tentatively rapped three times. He cringed, half expecting the door to explode, but when nothing happened, he looked warily at the unassuming piece of wood. It was just a door. And it was still closed. There was no sound from within, and Harry's nervousness turned back into worry.

Even if she never said anything, Hermione usually at least answered the door. Frowning, Harry reached out and slowly turned the knob. He was willing to risk her anger, especially if it got her talking to him again, or, well, yelling at him again. As he pushed open her door, the first thing the young man noticed was the lack of light. Everything was dingy, no lights brightened the room. The only illumination came from the window, which was half covered by thick drapes. Harry stepped into the room, searching the gloom for Hermione. At first he couldn't spot her, but he eventually found the witch sitting against the headboard of her bed, her knees tucked tightly against her chin.

After crossing the darkened room, Harry sat down next to her. She didn't move, didn't acknowledge him. Her eyes never strayed from the spot on the wall she seemed entranced in. Nervously, he touched her shoulder, hoping for some form of response. She flinched away from his touch, seemingly startled, and her eyes finally moved to regard him. Oh, Merlin, her eyes. Where they were usually bright and full of emotion and life, they were now dull and listless. The look of devastation in her eyes cut him to the core, and Harry couldn't bear it.

"Oh, 'Mione..." He whispered, "I'm so sorry." He'd left her here, alone, thought that she would be alright or come to him if she wasn't. He'd been wrong, and she had suffered for it. With not even a moment's hesitation, Harry reached out and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his embrace. Hermione trembled in his arms, and, as Harry looked at her, he was reminded of the promise he had made to himself.

"Please, Hermione. Talk to me. Tell me what I can do to help," Harry pleaded softly, his arms tightening reflexively, protectively, around her. "I'll do anything to help you. Anything to make you happy again. Please, just tell me what!" His green eyes captured hers, his sincerity shining through.

A single tear trailed down her cheek as Hermione spoke for the first time in two long weeks.

"I can't."

Author's Note:: Please leave a review letting me know what you think! I'd love to hear from you!