Chapter 2

"Is that a teardrop?"

Hermione wanted to smack herself for such indolence.  That could have been the most insensitive and brainless comment of her entire life!  And clearly, it was the last thing Ron was hoping to hear.

"Um...er...yeah.  I thought it was...uh...clever because you have a—"

"Teardrop-shaped mark on my chest..." she trailed off, gazing into the depths of the diamond and wondering why it was suddenly multiplying into blurriness.

"Aw, man...Mione, don't cry!  Please don't cry..."

She shook her head at Ron's consoling attempts and blinking, tried to focus back onto her boyfriend of six months and best friend of fifteen years.  He had this concerned look on his face, brows slightly arched together with blue eyes questioning, and his lips were slightly parted as if silent words of hope were floating out of their own accord.

Teardrops.  Teardrops were rolling down her cheeks as Hermione gazed longer and longer at the teardrop nestled in his hand.  She felt like she was driving in the rain with broken wipers: signs staggering about on waves, and colors muting into grayish blends.  Slowly, that orange hair began to leak bright red streams, and his brilliant blue eyes began to dull into wet grays.

"Oh, Ron..."

"Hermione?"

She slowly got up and grasped his wrist, pulling him up.  A puzzled look settled across his face, and somehow, he knew his prayer went unanswered.

"Ron...I-I love you..."

Oh, Merlin definitely wasn't listening tonight.

"...but I can't.  I'm sorry."

The love of his life finished in a whisper, and a gentle touch, cruelly reminiscent of friendship, graced his arm and left.  It took him moments to realize that she was gone, to realize that the beautiful brown eyes he was gazing so lovingly into just minutes before...were gone.  Instead, they were replaced by white dots against a black sky, a face that seemed to blur more and more into an indiscernible cloud of gray.

:

Hermione shivered against the autumn breeze, and with one arm wrapped around her shoulders, she fumbled with the keys to her apartment.  The minute they fell to a clash on the steps, the door swung open, revealing Ginny in a bathrobe.

"Mione!"

She collapsed into her best friend's arms, sobbing, and not quite realizing that just behind her stood a bewildered Harry.  Slowly, without disturbing her friend's trauma, Ginny turned her head and signaled for him to leave quietly, a message that yelled all in one motion, 'Find Ron.'  He slipped out with the stealth of an invisibility cloak, and Ginny silently closed the door.

"Mione...Mione, dear...What happened?  Merlin, what happened?"

The weeping girl continued to tremble in her friends arms until Ginny walked them both to her bed.  She hoped that the reason behind this outbreak wasn't what she was thinking, even while her instincts told her that it was exactly what she thought.

"Hermione.  Please, talk to me.  What happened?  Did Ron—"

At the mention of his name, the girl in question bawled even more.  Ginny suddenly knew that her instinct was right.  If there was anything that could bring this lioness to tears, it was guilt.

"Ron..." Hermione began, "H-he...p-proposed..."

"And you said no."  It was blunt, but it was the truth.  It also caused Hermione a new round of tears.  "You love him, and you hate to hurt him, but to say yes is to hurt him further.  And he deserves more than that," Ginny continued with the Weasley maternal wisdom, and she vaguely felt Hermione nod against her.

Ginny knew tomorrow was Saturday, technically a weekend free of work, but she also knew that work was what kept Hermione sane.  And if Hermione missed a whole day to work, her guilt trip would travel farther than China.  Interrogations and psychiatric sessions tonight would help neither party, and the best remedy right then seemed to be sleep.

"Shh...it's okay, Mione.  It's okay."  It wasn't okay, really.  This is her brother who had just been rejected.  But, then again, this is her best friend.  Ginny sighed.  She laid her friend down, covered her with blankets, and quietly accioed a vial of sleeping draught.  Stroking her friend's hair, she bid her to drink.  Hermione settled down eventually, even as tears still spilled down her cheeks, and ultimately, Ginny couldn't help but blink tears back herself.  After all, two broken friends were enough to bring anyone to tears.

:

Harry wasn't quite sure where to turn first.  Logically, Ron would still be in shock at the restaurant, or if he had enough composure, he would return to his apartment.

'Logic,' he snorted, 'Love doesn't come with logic.'

Sighing, he realized that Ron would probably go to the one place Harry wished he wouldn't.  The Briar Cliffs.

"I don't understand, Harry.  Perfect dates don't end in disaster.  Perfect dates end with happy couples."

"..."

"It's just...I don't know.  I don't know what else to do.  I don't know what I did wrong, I don't know what I'm supposed to do, I don't know what she's thinking—hell!  I don't even know what I'm thinking!"

Harry had found his best friend sitting behind the rail—thankfully not in front of it—that prevented people from falling from Briar Cliffs, and he was only gazing morosely at the waters below.  It was a night of mockery, apparently, because just as the stars brightly shone in the clear sky, the river below coursed calmly beneath the cliffs as if it never knew the word 'suicide'.

"Ron...I wish I knew what to say.  I wish I knew what was going on too.  I wish...I wished for a happy ending too..."

Together they sat in silence.  Nothing was happening that night, no owls or rodents, no breezes or clouds—nothing.  It may have been abnormally normal, but somehow, they knew that tonight's nothingness was a sign that nothing would be happening to them.

Nothing would change.  Even the worst of breakups couldn't break the Golden Trio, and no matter how emotionally unavailable their Gryffindor girl would become, they would always be there for her.  Rationale ran through their minds, asking why and how, but emotions clouded the possibility of detached judgment; in reality, they didn't want to judge her.  In truth, they knew it was impossible to be angry at her because no matter how much she would hurt them, they would always forgive her.

"I still love her."

"I know, Ron.  I know."