A/N: I don't own Harry Potter

Thanks everyone for reading and reviewing.

"Hermione? Hermione, please, open your eyes."

Hermione moaned. Her head was pounding. Her arm throbbed. Somewhere there was a voice, light? Her eyes fluttered open slightly.

"Thank Merlin!" she heard a voice exclaim. She realized she couldn't place it, didn't want to place it. Maybe she had died? Could she be dead? Slowly, the memories of last night started flooding her mind. She remembered finding out, the shame, the glass. She remembered the blood and then... nothing.

"Come on, open your eyes, you can do it. Don't worry, it's alright. You're safe. Ron's not here, I promise," the voice continued. Hermione's ears slowly started working properly. She recognized the voice, but still couldn't place it. She blinked her eyes open slowly. The world was spinning slightly. She was looking up, laying on her back. The ceiling was off white, a dirty cream color. There were shadows dancing on the ceiling. Candles. She was still in the wizarding world, but not in her home. How had she gotten here? She turned her head trying to get a bearing on her surroundings. To her left was a wall, the bed was against the wall.

"Where?" she asked. Her voice was raspy. How long had she been out? Her throat felt dry. She tried to remember if she'd been screaming. She remembered screaming, she remembered being furious. The picture frame shattering.

"Grimmauld Place. Like I said, you're safe, Hermione," the voice stated. Hermione's brain finally started working again. Her eyes widened as she sat up quickly. There he was, standing at the foot of the bed.

"Harry? Is it really you?"

"Ask me anything, Hermione."

"Can I have a drink?"

"Sure," Harry stated summoning a goblet of water. "You taught me the spell, remember?"

"Yes," she answered taking a sip. "I thought... you said you weren't planning to come back."

"I know. I was a mess, Hermione. The war really did a number on me, on everyone. I needed some time to figure out who I was, you know. I needed to be someone other than the Boy Who Lived, the Chosen One, the Savior of the Wizarding World... I needed some time to just be Harry."

Hermione nodded.

"And did you figure things out?"

"Some of it. I went looking for you and Ron. I found Ron."

"Still at the party?"

"Yes, with his hands all over some blond witch. I found out you'd been there, found out what happened. I'm sorry, Hermione."

"Nothing you could do, Harry. Ron made his own bed. So you came looking for me?"

"You didn't answer the door, but I had a feeling. I kind of blew the door up. You weren't conscious when I found you, you lost a lot of blood."

"So you brought me here?"

"If you had wanted to go to St. Mungo's, you would have. I wasn't really thinking, I was afraid I was too late, that you were dead."

"I can't go back there. I can't... face Ron."

"You don't have to, just get me a list of things you need. I'll get them, oh and Hermione, you can stay here as long as you need," Harry stated. Hermione felt a small smile cross her face. Harry at least cared about her. Sure, she didn't love him like she thought she had loved Ron, or the way she still loved Severus, but he was a friend and right now, that's what she really needed.