AN: Major gomen nassai everyone. I promise to finish this story, I promise to finish this story. Oh and no there is no Hagrid/ Hermione romance going on, they are just really good friends. Notice some account changes everybody, so blah! Enjoy…..

Disclaimer: they just aren't mine…..huff……

Hagrid sat clutching his tea cup with massive hands in anger. He tried to release his grip but only managed to anger himself further. Trying to be calm, telling him to think Hermione had always told Hagrid that. He brought in a ragged breath doing his best to keep from exploding in absolute anger at Ron.

He stood deserting the cup so as not to break it, or the other person at the table. He almost chocked on the words that came bumbling out. "Do ye not know what ye did to 'er?" He kept staring out into the gardens and beyond. He saw what she had seen the many times she'd come down here. Hagrid turned back too Ron the sadness in his eyes telling a greater story than his most eloquent of words ever could.

Ron shrugged lacking the effort needed to truly care about the brokenness he had bestowed upon this singular person. He spoke with a tone of such indifference, "she got what she deserved Hagrid, nothing more or less." Hagrid's entire body shook with the effort to contain the anger coursing through him. He hadn't been this angry in a long, long time.

His whole body eeked the palpable sense of violence contained beneath the skin. He turned sharply on Ron bellowing out at him, "She n'ere deserved any of 'te hell you lot put her through. If ye believe that Ron than ter hell with ye. I can't explain it to yer; it ain't my place no way it's hers." Hagrid shifted heavily feeling far too old. The anger still coursed beneath the thick skin of the half giant with a ferocity that was barely containable.

He crossed his small hut throwing open the door with such force it came off the hinges with a loud thunk, he threw the offending piece of wood to the ground. He stomped out of the cabin never needing to take a walk more than at that moment. Ron was left sitting in utter shock at the wooden table. The crisp autumn air invaded the tiny hut. It invaded every inch of Ron with a cold he somehow inadvertently knew was so much deeper.

He shrugged heavily rising from the rough hewn table. He laid his cup softly on the table not bothering to clean up after the two of them. He snatched his cloak from the edge of the despicably ugly couch. Stomping out onto the ground he forced his way past the bitter cascading wind back up the castle. He dwelt on the things Hagrid had said. Had she really deserved the things they had done to her. Was it all really and truly worth it in the end. Had he stopped loving Hermione in the first place?

Hagrid tramped his way through the forbidden forest his anger bubbling over. Hermione would have been proud he thought bitterly that he hadn't torn Ron limb from limb. Gods did he want to smack some sense into the boy. He was losing something so precious and he refused to see it. He refused to see the nightmare he was living, the nightmare of his own making. He would not see what he had done to her. Hagrid knew Hermione didn't have a lot of time left. He had wanted so much more for the book warmish girl who had softened his heart.

He remembered her third year and how they had really become true friends. His mind swirled around him as he tramped on letting his feet lead him to a quiet clearing deep within the forest. He hardly registered that he was unarmed and leaving a path of destruction nearly a mile wide. He didn't care at that moment it just didn't seem important.

When he was finally seated in the clearing not bothering to look about for anyone or anything; He leaned his back onto an ages old oak that soared so high he could hardly see its top even at his height. This particular tree was one of the few he could lean on with out crushing them beneath his weight. He remembered in the cool darkness of that autumn day.

She had sent an owl not long after that first big fight. The tawny school owl made its way down to hagrid's in the wee hours of the morning. He'd already been up with Buckbeak for a few hours. The note held her overly neat handwriting asking ever so politely if he minded greatly if she came down during her lunch to see him and Buckbeak. He had scrawled back his answer sending the tawny flying into the air.

She had come that mid morning; she came bearing more notes and such for Buckbeak's appeal. Hagrid had seen the beginnings of it then, the tiredness that would plague her for a very long time. She had sat in front of his fire snuggling in a blanket of his watching the flames dance sipping softly on her tea. He hadn't pressed her to tell him why it was just her; she hadn't seemed up to it then. It would be weeks later that she finally sat in front of that fire tears spilling down her face that he learned the truth. He had wanted to storm off to the castle the minute after she had said it.

He knew Hermione would give him nothing but the cold hard facts; it was a blatant part of her personality. He had sat there listening doing the one thing no one else in her life had ever seemed to have the time to do. Over the next few weeks and months he learned so much more about her. It was like meeting Hermione for the very first time.

She was so much warmer and kinder than almost anyone would ever know. She found such a solace in that cabin; it was something they both had deeply in common. He fondly remembered her reading to him one of her favorite muggle stories. Hermione taught him to control his anger so much better than he had ever been able to.

Even after the trio had made up she still kept coming always making the spare time to see him. He had cried so softly when she came that early morning. She came with the news of the destruction of her so carefully built little world. She had handed him the letter from her supposed two best friends. She was sitting in front of that fire when it all came spilling out, the deaths of her parents, the letter, and the last most gruesome detail, the knowledge that she was dying. She knew it in some part of her soul that she told him she couldn't explain.

He laid his trash can sized hands on her shoulders softly. He had stood behind her knowing that he had found the greatest friend in the world and that she was going to be leaving him. Hagrid had sat so quietly in the absolute darkness of his cabin later that night. He had been so tired, tired of always being the one left alive. They never spoke of those things again; in all truth they hadn't said much in those last few weeks before her last collapse. There was nothing else to be said, nothing else to be done but face the coming dawn together. He had sworn to her he would never leave her alone and they both knew it was the truth.

Hermione was still sitting in the park somberly. She was still confused but she felt deep somewhere in her heart that she needed to get up and start down one of the paths. She couldn't sit on the park bench forever. Starring into the darkness before her she willed herself to keep going. Into the mist she walked through it and kept going. The tiredness that had long plagued here returned ten fold in those moments. She wanted to stop but she needed to keep gong. At the edge of the path she had taken was a brilliant light, it hung about her in shades of burnt crimson.

He eyes opened so slowly, painfully slowly. She was laying a bed somewhere. She could feel she had been moved while asleep as if some part of her knew this was not the first bed she had lain in. Her body began to register the dull grey paint on the walls, the thick quilt covering her. She couldn't feel any sterility to the room, she had a strong hunch she was in an Order safe house. Rolling onto her side was painful but doable. She rolled onto her left side watching with fascination at the burnt crimson light playing through the shadows of some tree; it danced beneath the heavy off white drapes. She snuggled deeply into the warmth the bed offered her so willingly. She drifted off to sleep, a more natural sleep, and a healing sleep.

She never noticed the other presence in the room. Dumbledore stood sentry in the dark corner off to the right of the bed. He would stay here until she awoke…

Muhahahahah I finally updated. Brownie point for me. Please believe me I am going to finish this story! Blah have a good Saturday, Cat out.

P.s. I don't care if you review but it is nice to see that once in a while, don't look at me it's an author thing.