Feeling Alone

Author's Note: This chapter will actually be a story, and so will all the rest after this. I am going to see peoples' response to this to see wether or not I should continue with this story.

Thanks!!

H A R R Y ' S P O I N T O F V I E W

I can hear her crying again. She's in the tent, and I volunteered for first watch so that she could try to get some sleep. It's been a week since Ronald left, and we know that there is no way for him to find us again… Not that he would want to. Ron made his intentions perfectly clear; he doesn't want to come back. All I can hope is that Hermione will move on. She really thought that her and Ron were going to be together, and by leaving, the redhead really hurt her. I try to control my anger when I'm around her, but when I'm alone like now, it's all I can do to stop myself from apparating to the burrow and showing Ronald of piece of my mind.

A few hours later Hermione is still crying, soft snuffling noises that she tries to hide. I'm exhausted though, and now that I've run out the anger that builds up during the day, it's the perfect time to enter the tent. Standing up, I pull open the tent flap and walk in too see the hunched figure of Hermione sitting in her bed.

"Oh, Harry," she says, pulling her sweater up in an attempt to hide the tears that are still flowing. Just seeing the angry red trails where the salt in her tears have inflamed her skin makes me angry. How could someone do something so awful to a person like Hermione? She really had thought that Ron would be her man, and when he left, it tore her down. There was a detectable hesitation before I responded.

"Yes… It's- er, your turn to watch, if you're ready," I say softly, trying not to increase the flow of tears.

"Of course," Hermione says. Even through the sweater her tone sounds hollow and empty. Looking at the poor girl, I speak again.

"Come on 'Mione," I say before I can stop myself. "I don't think he's coming back, and crying isn't going to help." Blinking dumbly now, I am astounded that I could even think, let alone say something so insensitive. She looks at me, confused for a moment before the puzzled expression turns into an angry one. Standing up from the cot with a death-glare on her face, Hermione threw herself at me with a punch already building in her arm. Barely causing any effect as she punches me repeatedly in the chest, she screams.

"How dare you?!" I notice the punches have slowed as her tone also quiets. "You have no clue!" The angry expression has left her face as the tears flow freely again. She grips my shoulders with both hands and leans against me. "H- Harry… Why did he go?" I'm still just surprised at the sudden change; she usually just sits there with a blank stare on her face.

"I don't know," I reply, rubbing her the back of her sweater awkwardly. She looks up at me, with a strange look on her face and talks quietly.

"I'm sorry... I've left tear stains on your shirt."