I'm quite happy with this chapter. The word completely influenced where I went with it, though. Which is the whole point, so I'm pleased.

Thanks to all those who reviewed. I love reading your reviews.

I don't own Harry Potter.

Slimsy

Flimsy; frail.

Hermione woke the next morning to the sun shining through the window and Ron standing in front of her, a tray of food levitating in front of him. When she looked at him, he smiled and she actually thought it was genuine. He didn't seem unhappy anymore. So why did she?

"Good morning," he said with a wide smile. "Are you hungry?"

"N-no," Hermione answered shakily, propping herself up in her bed. Why was Ron doing this? What had she done to deserve such treatment?

"Oh, okay then. Well – " he placed the tray beside her, " – if you do get hungry..." he trailed off, sounding disappointed.

"Why are you doing this?" she demanded. She didn't mean to sound so harsh, but the words were out before she could take them back. It still didn't make sense that he could be so forgiving; so understanding.

And he needed to cry. She was positive that he was only staying strong because she was a mess.

"I thought that after last night, you were... better," Ron answered, ignoring her harsh tone.

He's too good for me sometimes, she thought sadly. Spending time with Harry and Ginny had been good for a while. Ginny had distracted her with other things to think about and they had been laughing and joking with one another. For a while it had worked, but then she had begun to feel guilty for it and she had gone back into her dark place and nothing had been able to lift her out of it again.

There she was, less than a week after it had happened and she was acting as if nothing was wrong. She had forgotten for a few hours. It didn't feel right to forget. She could never forget.

Ron was still watching her, waiting for her to answer, but she only shook her head.

"O-okay, I'll be back soon, then," he said shakily. He left her alone, closing the door behind him.

Hermione sat in her bed for a while, feeling so weak and so helpless. Why couldn't she do it? Why couldn't she just push it aside like Ron was and get on with her life? He seemed to be coping for now, even if she still thought there would come a time when he wasn't. It had to be better than wallowing in self pity, anyway.

Rose needed both of them, but she only had Ron.

Forcing herself out of bed, she opened the door and made her way down stairs and into the living room. No one was there. She tried the kitchen; still no one. It wasn't until she heard Rose's screech of laughter, did she think to check outside.

The sight that greeted her was able to bring a smile to her face, when nothing much else could these days. She watched as Ron helped Rose onto her toy broomstick, which was levitated a foot in the air. She was giggling uncontrollably as it zoomed her around the backyard.

Ron too, was smiling, clearly delighted. Rose rarely liked flying, which Hermione knew disappointed him.

When she had stopped and was back on the ground, Rose waved in her direction, beaming. Hermione waved back, her smile widening. It didn't feel wrong to smile at her daughter.

Ron looked at her as well, but his smile faltered. He looked angry, more than anything. Finally, she thought.

"Again!" Rose cried in delight.

"In a minute, Rosie," Ron replied absently. He was still watching Hermione, his eyes not leaving hers. They were asking if she was here to make an effort; if she wasn't going to fall back into her dark reverie and cry again. They also told her that he loved her, but he was confused about her feelings.

She looked away. Weakness.

Her emotions were so fragile at the moment. Everything she had felt a week ago was gone. She loved Ron, she knew she did, but she had no desire to do anything about it. All she wanted was to be left alone.

"You stay here, Rosie," Ron said, sitting her on a chair. "I'll be back in a few minutes, okay?" He took Rose's broom with him as he made his way towards Hermione. Rose was the type of person who would try and fly by herself.

Hermione braced herself as Ron neared her. He looked angry... no, hurt. He was hurt. Very hurt.

"You're okay now?" he asked, when they were far enough away so Rose wouldn't hear them. Despite the look in his eyes, he sounded concerned more than anything.

"No," she answered truthfully. "I just came to... to... I'm sorry."

"For what?" he asked bluntly.

"For everything," Hermione told him. She choked back her tears, but for the first time they weren't tears for her lost child. She was crying because she missed the comfort Ron used to give her. He was there, but he was so distant from her and that was because she was pushing him away. He wanted to be there, but she wouldn't let him.

"I can't help it," she continued. "I can't help feeling like this."

"Like what, Hermione? Talk to me."

"Like I want to be alone."

Weakness again. Escaping was the easy option. Working through it with him was the right thing to do, but it was too hard and too painful. He was stronger than her.

Ron shook his head, but he couldn't seem to find the words he wanted to say. He was shocked.

"I-I can't deal with feeling like this anymore," she said.

"I don't want to feel it either, but we have to cope. For Rose." He emphasised the last words and Hermione turned to where Rose had obeyed Ron's every word. She remained seated on the chair he had put her on, her legs swinging back and forth. She'd do anything for Rose.

"What's happened to us?" she asked. "You're trying, but I'm not. I don't know how."

"So much has happened, Hermione. You can't expect to wake up one day and for everything you are feeling to just disappear." He sounded shocked, like he couldn't believe he was the one telling her that.

"I feel so weak," she confessed quietly.

"We both do," Ron replied. She noticed he was shaking slightly. Were all the feelings he was keeping inside ready to burst? How much longer could he keep them bottled up?

A few tears rolled down her cheeks. Not again.

Ron's eyes narrowed and finally, he looked furious. "Stop it," he said angrily. "Stop crying."

"I told you, I can't help it," she whispered.

"Then try and learn, Hermione. Learn how to put aside what you are feeling for five minutes and try and move on. It's what I do." Any affection he spoke with before had disappeared. He was blatantly furious. "You promised Rose."

She was too weak to argue, or say anything at all. She had known the time would come when Ron would lose it, but she hadn't expected him to be that angry with her.

"If you think leaving and escaping your problems like that is the right thing to do, then go. I won't stop you. I've tried and tried, Hermione. I'm over it. I can't do it anymore. Just go, okay. If that's what you want."

Hermione bit her lip. She deserved it, but it still hurt. "Ron, please, I – "

"Rose is waiting for me," he said. And he walked away.

Hermione had never felt so weak in her life. There was no strength inside of her to fight, or to make him come back. She just let him walk away.

Please don't leave without giving a review. I love reviews.