Title: Outcast

Summary: Love is like riding a broomstick. Some people are addicted to it and others just can't seem to get the hang of it.

Disclaimer: I own the plot, which makes me very happy.

A/N: As always, thanks to quidditch7 for her help. And, to thesongremainsthesame: I know you are a hopeless romantic but you gave me the idea for this chapter (the present). I hope you don't mind I twisted your idea into something a little more...fitting.

A/N2: This chapter is from Ron's perspective. Very important!

I wanted to talk to her. Needed to talk to her. She needed to see. To understand. I needed to understand. Why. How. When. I needed to understand in order to help. But I did not know how. So I did the thing that I thought made the most sense. I owled her.

Okay, so maybe it doesn't make much sense now. It did at the time. I couldn't talk to her in public. Not many people knew about her self-abuse. I guess I am the only one. I didn't want her to have to admit her secret. She had already done that once. I didn't think she could handle another time. Yet, I really had to talk to her. Soon. God knows what she would do if I didn't. What if it went wrong? Then I was guilty just as much as her razor was. Also, I couldn't talk to her in public because of...well just because.

I felt guilty for not wanting to talk to her in public and I kept reasoning it away by telling myself that it was for her benefit. Had I always been this egocentric? Was that why I kissed those girls – kissed Lavender – knowing that I would hurt people?

God I hope she'll agree to meet me.

I sat there, waiting, wondering whether I made the right choice. She'd probably frown upon the location I had sought out. The Shrieking Shack. It had more than one reason. Nobody would come here. We'd have time and privacy. Plus, it reminded me of happier times. Hermione who was willing to fight for us and more importantly, me and Harry who fought for her. Our friendship bound us and nobody could ever separate us. As long as we were together we were invincible.

A soft crack made me look up. There she stood. In the doorway. Her brown eyes looking at me questioningly. I tried to smile. She didn't smile back. This was going to be tough.

"Sit down"

It sounded like an order. She flinched. She had every right to. What right did I have to command her? Yet she sat down. Quietly, like everything she did. It unnerved me. I opened my mouth to speak but she beat me to it:

"Why did you ask me to meet you up here? Still don't want to be seen with me?"

What could I answer to that? It was the truth after all. She seemed to think so, because she smiled rather sadly and looked around.

"It has been so long since I've been here. Remember Scabbers and...oh, of course you remember. I'm just rambling."

My hands were shaking as I took out the package that had been hidden in my robe. Could I really do this to her? Wouldn't it just lead to more self-destruction? After all, I was the cause of all of this. I had driven her to hurt her that first time. I had known as soon as I had seen those harsh cuts yesterday.

Yet I knew, I couldn't chicken out. I needed her to know. She needed to see once and for all that she was self-destructive. She needed to realise that the cutting had become an addiction. One I was willing to help her get rid of. That much I knew at least.

So I handed her the package. There was a moment of hesitance in her eyes before she accepted it. Her slender fingers started to unlace the ribbon around the package and I wished for her to give it back to me. It could be stopped now. I could take the package back and run. Run away from her and my guilt. I could go back to my old life. But it was a shallow one. Without her, everything was shallow.

"What is this?"

She questioned, holding the razors in her hand.

"What are you giving me these for?"

She tried to sound innocent, which gave me the courage to speak without stuttering or chickening out.

"Your old ones must be getting blunt, your wounds are all frayed."

Her eyes became bigger. Her hands started shaking.

"You...how did you...I mean...I'm not..."

Her lips trembled and I knew that lying was hard.

"Don't do it Hermione. Don't lie to me and destroy what is between us."

Uhoh. Wrong line. Very very wrong line. She exploded.

"What is between us? There is nothing between us Ron! That's just it, isn't it? This is all a guilt-trip! You've only invited me here because then you'll finally be able to move on and not think about me during the holidays. Well, let me tell you this: I do not need your pity Ronald Weasley. I'm better off without you!"

I swallowed, trying to lock my eyes with hers.

"You are probably right. You probably are. But you've got a problem which is my fault, and I would do anything to help you get rid of it."

"Your fault? I think you're giving yourself a bit too much credit there. You were just a crush Ron. How would you know if the self-harm hasn't started way before that?"

"It...it hasn't..."

"You can't be sure, can you? We have been drifting apart for such a long time. You wouldn't even know what was on my mind, let alone if I was hiding something."

She was right. And she left me speechless. I could do nothing but hear her shouting at me and I felt every word like a stab. Because she was right. She was totally right. I did not know her. I hadn't known her for a long time.

"I can't believe I actually wanted you to be friendly to me again. I was even so naive that I thought you invited me up here to talk and make amends, when all you wanted was to hurt me again! Not this time, Ron. I don't need you anymore. I don't need anybody anymore. I'm finally free."

She turned around and walked towards the door. I knew I had to be fast. She scared me a little, this Hermione. It sounded like she was saying goodbye, not just to me and our friendship. Not just to our future, but to any future. It made me want to throw up. She wouldn't do something to herself, would she? She couldn't. Because...this Hermione was alive. She was furious and she looked so darn pretty doing it. This was the Hermione I fell in love with. This was the Hermione I loved.

I loved her. Scratch that...I love her.

I jumped in front of her, blocking her way out.

"Hermione. 'Mione."

I didn't know what to say. What could I say? Would anything I ever said change this? Was it really in my power to help her? How? With what?

There were so much thoughts whirling around in my head and nothing made sense anymore. Except Hermione. Being here. By my side.

I kissed her.

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