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They remained silent until they landed on Hermione's carpet on the ground. The thought that Hermione was going through something like that without telling either of them was sickening. Alright, she might have lost a bit of trust with Ron since they broke up, but Harry? She knew Harry was there for her, and she knew he would do anything for her, but she still kept it all a secret? It left them with nothing to say, so with the silence thickening like cream, they made their way up the small staircase into the blood-stained bathroom.

"Do you think we should clean up all the blood first? It's making me feel a bit sick and it already smells of vomit in here," Ron suggested. He had never liked blood.

"Sure, scourgify." In an instant the blood was gone from the floor, making the room seem slightly less post-horror scene like.

Hermione's bathroom was bigger than Harry had remembered. It had grey tiles on the floor and light blue walls. There was a big mirror in behind the wall of a deep, square sink with a cabinet underneath it, and next to the sink was a bag and her toothbrush. Everything was so neat – unlike Ginny was. There was a bath along the wall under a window with a leafy pattern on it, and there was a box full of bathbombs next to it. He had had a bath while staying at Hermione's on new year's eve last year. He had drunk too much and had a hangover the next morning, so Hermione ran him a bath and gave him a cup of Hot Chocolate, and told him to relax.

That was before he noticed something was wrong. When everything had become more normal after the trauma of her and Ron's breakup.

Harry remembered Ron and Hermione's breakup very clearly. For ages Hermione had been having crazy mood swings, and it became difficult to tell if she was feeling okay or not. Everyone had assumed it was because of the war, which, Harry realised, probably made the whole situation worse - he knew how hard it was to be misunderstood. One day, Ron got mad, and after a series of events, Ron stormed into Harry's flat in a rage.

"Harry I can't do this anymore! She's crazy! I haven't done anything wrong and she snaps at me all the time. It's not the same anymore. I'm going to end it Harry. It's gone too far. There's nothing left to do about it"

Harry was shocked how sure Ron was with his revelation.

"What? Are you sure? After everything you've been through? It won't be the same Ron, not if you break up with her."

"No! It's too stressful. Harry can I move in here for a bit? She'll probably kick me out."

"Uh, sure. We'll transfigure a sofa for you."

And that was that. Harry was shocked. He hoped he wouldn't have to choose between them.

Harry snapped back into reality when Ron began to speak;

"So do you know what we're looking for? A potion? Something muggle that I don't know about?" Ron finally broke the silence and was clearly eager to get out of there. He had lived there for a year after the war with Hermione too, so it was probably more unnerving for him than it was for Harry.

"No, but I remember once Aunt Petunia took too many of her pills and she got sick, but I can't remember what the pills were called,"

"Pills? What are pills? Do they kill you?" Clearly pills were a muggle thing.

"Well I think they are these small round things that doctors, or muggle healers give you if you're sick. If you take too many they make you unwell, clearly."

"Do you know what they look like?"

"Yes, they are very small and white. They might be in a plastic casing."

They both begun to search the room for the mysterious pills. The room, although it was big, didn't have many places to hide things so it should'nt have taken too much time.

Harry found the pills alright. He recognised them from the cabinets back in Privet Drive. Hermione had taken eight pills. Harry wasn't a healer but he knew that that couldn't have been a good thing.

"Ron, here they are. Hermione took at least eight, so we need to get back to St Mungos as quickly as possible to let them know."

"Harry, I know it sounds stupid, but will you stay the night with me here? For old time's sake of course, but as much as I love Hermione and everything, I don't want to sleep in a hospital and here would be the best place to be with Hermione even though she's not here. We can go back in the morning and see her but just for tonight can we stay here?"

"What are you on about? We need to go back, Hermione's lifes in danger! This is about her not you, and I would do anything for her health even if it did mean sleeping in a hospital. Look, I know that Fred…"

"You have no idea Harry! It's where he died! It's not the same without him. I can't go back there Harry, not for the night. You know I love Hermione but I can't go there. Not now."

Harry stood in silence thinking. Of course he knew what it felt like to lose someone close to you, he saw Sirius slip away from him right in front of his eyes. But Ron had other family; wonderful Ginny, caring and wonderful parents and 3 other brothers, so loosing Fred, as sad as it must have been would not be the same as it was losing Sirius. Not when that was the closest thing to family he had left.

"Fine. I'll sleep on the sofa and you can have the bed. We have to go back there at some point though, and you know that."

Nothing more was said for the rest of the night.

It took Harry a while the next morning to remember where he was. And when he remembered where he was, he remembered why he was there, and what he had to do that day. Hermione.

It was not long before Ron came down the stairs looking like he hadn't slept a wink all night. Harry, although he was of course very worried about Hermione, slept pretty well on her sofa.

"It's time, Ron. Time to see how she is."

They got dressed and apparated to St Mungos, silent in anticipation of what state they'd find her in. They soon found where she would be.

Battling through paparazzi, they finally reached the room in which Hermione lay. She looked no better than she had last night- her face grey and cold, so lifeless.

The healer that they had met last night walked in.

"Did you find the substance?"

"Yes. It was a paracetamol pill. She took eight of them. Do you think she will be alright? Do you know how you can make her better?" Ron sounded desperate.

"Eight? Oh my, she really was determined. Well if she's stayed unconscious this long it means that her body's trying to fight it off. I'm going to force her into a coma for a few weeks when she wakes up because she's dangerous to herself, and needs a chance to heal before she can be discharged. It may sound drastic, but everything's been thought through, and it's all in the interest of Miss Granger making a sound recovery. I hope you understand. There will be a junior healer tending to her wounds every day until she is in the right state to be awoken."

It was a lot of information to take in at once, but both of them knew that it was for her own good. If only they had been there for her when she had needed it, then none of this would have happened.

A few weeks without Hermione not knowing if she's okay? It seemed completely unnatural. But they'd just have to go along with it – the healer knew what she was doing.