Author's Note: I'd like to thank all my reviewers, you all are great! Thanks for the tips. Eventually I may go back and edit things, so the final product will be 10 times better than right now. My best friend told me that it is often hard to do your own ship justice. She's right, it is. You want to get it perfect to prove it to yourself. Silly me.

Quidditch7- I know it was a bit overdramatic, but I thought it illustrated how badly her feelings for Ron had taken a toll on her. However, you could be right about my pacing. I always seem to have trouble with that. I think it's because I want to hurry up and get things resolved. I'm glad you like it. :)

Disclaimer: y'all read it last chapter, so I won't bother.

"It was bloody nuts! One second we're perfectly fine, the next she's blown up in my face, and yet the very next she completely lost all control. I've never seen her like this. Ever. Something has got to be done. I can't go on not knowing what is wrong with her." Ron and Harry were seated in the Great Hall, talking about the events of the night before. Ron's appearance was like Hermione's, in that he had bloodshot eyes from lack of sleep. The only difference was her eyes were bloodshot from crying.

"I hear you mate. I've noticed the change in her. She seems really confused about something and it's taking over. She didn't finish her Potions essay, and she was actually struggling with it. It's just not like her. Not to say she's the only one of us who's changed. You have too. You're becoming more sensitive to things like this. You understand more. To tell you the truth, you're not a prick anymore."

"Really?" Ron was suddenly struck with how much he had changed since 5th year. He began to see Hermione as a girl in 4th year at the Yule Ball. This was common knowledge among his friends. However the only person who truly knew how he felt about Hermione now was himself. He debated telling Harry, because for a while he believed Harry might have harbored some feelings for their bushy-haired best friend himself. Truth was, Ron wanted to tell the whole world. He was in love with her, and had been for what seemed like forever.

"Yeah, totally. I wouldn't be surprised if you had a mob of girls waiting for you outside your door. Word probably traveled all over school by now that Ron Weasley is now a gentleman."

"I'm only interested in one though, and chances are, she wouldn't be there."

"Really? Well well, do tell." Harry's eyes glimmered with anticipation.

"Hermione…"

"No kidding? Really?"

"Yeah."

"For how long?"

"Forever."

"Man. So I bet you're really anxious to see what's going on with her eh?" Harry still looked astonished. His eyes were wide, and he sat there with this goofy smile on his face like he'd just gotten something he'd always wanted.

"Of course. Oy! What's that look for?"

"What? Oh, nothing. Just, it took you long enough to tell me mate."

"I know."

Hermione and Ginny walked through the throngs of students heading to the Great Hall.

"Hermione are you alright? You look a bit peaky," Yelled Lavender Brown, one of Hermione's roommates. She didn't answer, just kept her eyes fixed on the Gryffindor table at the redhead who so easily captivated her. Suddenly he turned to look at the doorway, where she stood. Harry waved, and Ginny, who was still attached to Hermione's arm, began to go toward the table. Hermione had no choice but to be dragged along after her.

"Good morning Herm," said Harry, who was searching her face for any sign of emotion. She stood still as a stone. "Did you sleep alright?"

"Yes, I think I'll be okay once I eat something." She stole a fleeting glance at Ron, who was looking at her intently with extreme sadness in his eyes. She wondered if the same sadness was reflected in her own. She sat down, and Ginny fixed her a plate that was piled with all the food on the table. So it seemed. She glared at her best friend. "I can't eat all that."

"Oh, you can. And you will. We're all really worried about you. You can't just waste away to nothing."

"Guys, I appreciate the concern, truly. But there's nothing wrong with me."

"I beg to differ," Ron cut in. "What happened last night was not nothing. Please tell us what's going on."

"Please, just leave me alone I can handle it."

"No, you can't. Not if you call last night 'handling it.'"

"Well Ginny already knows."

"I do?" Ginny asked, genuinely confused.

"Um, yeah. I told you yesterday." Hermione picked up the fork to begin eating, but found the silver was too heavy for her. She had to grip it with white knuckles to get the utensil to her mouth.

"Hermione," Harry started, "When's the last time you ate?"

"I can't remember. Wednesday or Thursday."

"Hermione, it's Monday."

"I know it," she was getting irritated, "I'm perfectly capable of knowing when I am not okay." Her voice softened. "For example, right now. Right now, I'm not okay."

"So we noticed," said Ron gently. "Please just let us help you. We can go to the hospital wing, and you can get rested up, and…" Ron never finished his sentence. At that moment, Hermione collapsed into her plate.

"You can lead a girl to the Great Hall, but you can't make her eat." Madam Pomfrey was getting the proper supplies to treat the weak Hermione.

"Is she going to be alright?" Asked Ron, his voice wavering.

"She should be. She needs to wake up, first of all. After that, she needs to get some food in her, poor dear. Then, you will go to class, all of you, and she will get some sleep."

Madam Pomfrey stuck some foul smelling plant under Hermione's nose, and her eyes flew open. She coughed and wheezed for a moment, then took a sip of water. She looked around the room at her friends, whose faces were worn out with worry.

"Good god! How long was I out for? You all look awful." She sat up in bed, but Ron pushed her down with a strong hand.

"Don't think about getting up. You've only been out for a half-hour. But trust me, that was long enough." Harry and Ginny nodded in agreement.

"Oh! I have to go to class. Madam Pomfrey thank you for your care." She began to get up again, but Ron pinned her down.

"Uh-uh. You, are not going anywhere."

"But I'm fine."

"You're not bloody fine okay! Stop being so goddamn stubborn and lay down! I am sick of you not listening to us. We know you're not okay. A few minutes ago even you admitted you weren't okay. I can wait for the specifics of what's wrong with you. I'm not going to grill you in your condition. But, when you're strong enough, you better believe I'm getting answers." Ron turned and stormed out of the room and slammed the chamber door.

"Tell him…tell him I'm sorry. Gin won't you? Please?" Hermione pleaded. Then she lay her head back down on the pillow, and slipped into sleep.

"My god. That girl is a wreck," Harry said.

"I know it."

"You also know why Gin."

"Yes I do."

"Well?"

"I can't say. She'd murder me."

"She would not."

"Yeah actually, I think she would."

"What if you put a hex on the secret. Like if I told a soul, I'd be covered in bat bogeys or something."

"No."

"What if I gave you my word, AND let you hex it?"

"Well…"

"Please? She's our best friend. I want to know, so maybe I can help her."

"Oh alright. She's in love with Ron, and it's tearing her up."

"Why?"

"Why? Because they fight all the time, and she never knows how he feels about anything. Especially her."

"I do."

"I know you do, I have a strong feeling myself."

"Well how do we get them to talk about it?"

"We'll figure something out."