"When was the last time you ate anything?"

Hermione rolled her eyes as she read the letter—a singular line in Ron's familiar scrawl. She was expecting it; both he and Molly had commented on how thin she had looked when she returned to the Burrow for Christmas.

Sure, she had struggled to get her appetite back after living off rations for so long and most of the food in the Great Hall was too rich now. It made her feel ill.

Hermione took a bite of the slice of toast as if in spite before digging out a piece of parchment so she could write him a reply. Once it was done, she tied it to the leg of the waiting owl and watched it fly away. She gathered up her things and headed out to class, forgetting about the half-eaten slice of toast still on her plate.

⁂

Pigwidgeon was waiting for her. He gave her a doleful hoot as she crept into the girl's dormitory, eliciting a sleepy curse from Ginny.

It had been a month since she'd last heard from Ron, and she knew what he had written before she'd even unrolled the parchment.

Hermione suppressed the panic bubbling up from her stomach as her breath caught in her throat. She acknowledged the attack, her fingers fumbling for the wood of her four-poster bed to ground her.

Breath in, breath out. Breath in, breath out.

The moment eventually passed, and she wearily dropped down to her bed, her head spinning. Pig gave another hoot, and plucked at her finger to remind her he was there.

"Answer the damn owl, Hermione." Ginny rolled over in her bed as Hermione watched her guiltily. Slowly, she unravelled the parchment.

"When was the last time you ate anything?"

Truthfully, she couldn't even remember. She felt another surge of guilt as she racked her brains. She'd missed dinner to cram in some extra hours in the library and she couldn't be so certain she made it to lunch. The hours always melted into one, especially as her workload steadily grew.

Maybe taking seven N.E.W.T's wasn't the best idea she'd ever had.

"Go sleep in the Owlery, Pig. I'll write him back tomorrow."

The owl gave her a sad look before taking flight through the open window. Hermione shuffled up her bed until she crashed against the headboard. She had no energy to get changed. She'd just get a couple of hours of sleep, and then she'd definitely see if she could get a sandwich or a biscuit.

⁂

Hermione woke, disorientated and dizzy. She tried to sit up and felt a rush of pain flooding her head, like tiny ice picks stabbing at her temple. Calloused, hard fingers traced over her brow, although they did nothing to still the ache. Her eyes closed, and a tear escaped down her cheek.

"Lie back down, give yourself time," his voice was barely a whisper, yet she knew who it belonged to. He pushed at her shoulder firmly, and she did as she was told.

"Why are you in my room? You're not allowed up here!" She tried to force her eyes to focus, desperate to find his handsome features in the orange blur still hovering above her. Hermione knew he'd be frowning, but she didn't care. She needed to see his face to know he was real.

"You got up in the middle of the night and collapsed. You're in the infirmary," Ron sighed, and Hermione felt it deep within her bones.

"I got to bed late and Pig was waiting for me. I had been studying in the library until Madam Pince threw me out. That's all I remember." Her eyes finally started to focus, just in time to see a wry smile appear.

"Hermione, when was the last time you ate anything?"

"I… I can't remember," she felt ashamed, and her cheeks burned.

"F—" The swear disappeared before it had chance to escape his lips. "Hermione! I knew this would happen without me here. Ginny told me you'd signed up for seven N.E.W.T's. You promised me five! I knew this would happen. You got busy, and stressed, and then you forgot to eat. How are you supposed to study on no energy?"

He started to get up, and Hermione felt a rush of blind panic. It was starting again, but this time nothing she could do would stop it. She grasped for his hand, handicapped by her position lying in the bed.

"Don't…." She used the last of her energy to pull him close. She wanted to shout at him, to tell him she didn't deserve his concern. She was going to fail her exams and never graduate. The thoughts the Horcurxes embedded deep in her mind threatened to take over.

She was not good enough.

Her sobs turned to gasps and she found herself struggling for air. She glanced up at him, her eyes wide with terror as her grip on him slipped. She tried to ground herself in his deep, blue eyes.

"Breathe, Hermione. C'mon, you have to breathe…"

He counted, and she ,trying to coordinate each breath with a number. She closed her eyes, bringing up image after image of The Burrow, of their Christmas together, of summers spent lazing in the meadows next to the lake, of Ron.

Eventually, she started to calm down and she loosened her grip.

"M'okay," Hermione nodded, more to herself. She watched as Ron visibly relaxed and she felt another surge of guilt. He probably had to skip training to be with her. She shouldn't be putting him through this.

"Okay," he matched her nod. "I'm going to leave you, just for a minute, so that I can get Pomfrey, okay? She needs to know you're awake. Then I'm going to go down to the kitchens and get you a sandwich. Once you've eaten all of it, we'll sort everything out."

Hermione let go of him, albeit reluctantly and watched him go. Since when did he become the more grounded, mature one? she thought. She let her head drop back against the pillow. Soon, they would sort this mess out.

But first, she was hungry.