Author's note: To make up for my lack of updating, I worked all weekend to come up with two chapters for you all to enjoy!

Where we left off last time:

With that, I gave her a hug and Apparated back to my flat.

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When I got back to my flat, I was glad that I was home. But, a nagging feeling tugged on my heart, and I wondered if it had been the right thing to do. I had missed them all- Harry, Ginny, Mrs. Weasley, Fred, George... and Ron.

I suddenly found it suspicious that neither Ron nor Harry nor the Twins were home when I left. I was relieved about that fact, but also slightly worried. What was it that Fred– or it could have been George– had said about sleuthing?

Could Ron have found out where I lived? Could he know that I live in a dump of a flat? The chances of us meeting by accident in the street were way too low for it to actually be a coincidence.

I began biting my nail, a nervous habit that had begun during school. If there was a God, or some other sort of higher being, He would have to know that I've had my quota of suffering. More than enough of it.

I made my way to the kitchen to make myself some tea– a last ditch effort to calm my racing nerves. Once the water had boiled, I sipped the hot liquid, feeling it warm my restless stomach.

I wondered what had made Ron decide to come look for me – if that was indeed the case. Had he changed his mind about telling me how he felt? Had Ginny been right, that he did love me? I shook my head of those thoughts. I needed to concentrate on cleaning up my flat; it wouldn't be long before one of the Weasleys or Harry decided to pay me a surprise visit.

I started with the kitchen, cleaning up all the dishes, cleaning out the oven and then proceeding to the fridge. It took me no more than half an hour, but no matter what I did or what I cleaned, I knew that my flat would never look clean. It would always have the imprint of my mistakes, the imprints of the horrors I took part of, the imprint of him.

I shook my head of those thought, wondering why all these different emotions– the good and the bad– were resurfacing. I thought I had killed and buried them a long time ago, but, like the Inferi, they seemed to rear their ugly heads at command. Except, I was not the one commanding them; at least, not consciously.

I washed the floor, scrubbing as hard as I could. I was disgusted by the amount of dirt that had accumulated on the floor, but I had never paid attention to that before. Once I was done, I noticed how nice the floor was, and wondered what it might have looked like years ago when the flat was brand new.

I stopped for a short while to get something to eat. I was glad that I still had errands to run, or else I would have scrounge around trying to find something edible.

Picking up my handbag and placing my money in it, I left, locking the door behind me.

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I wandered the bare streets looking for a decent place to eat, finally stopping at a small restaurant. I was glad that the menu wasn't too fancy and expensive. I settled for a small bowl of pasta and a glass of lemonade. My food came quickly, and I ate it quickly, trying not to let my mind wander any more than it had already. I paid the waiter and continued my way towards the market.

The market was just a few streets down, occupying most of a car park. There were stands with anything and everything you could ever want. They all varied in size and product, making it a beautiful display of colours and shapes. I walked around to every stand, comparing prices and quality, hoping to stumble onto a good deal.

Luck was with me today; "Fresh Fruits" was having a sale, trying to get rid of excess berries. I couldn't believe that no one wanted to buy the succulent strawberries, or tasty black berries. When I walked up the stand, the pudgy man sat up hastily, putting on a grin.

"Hello Miss. Would you like some berries?" he asked me, his eyes pleading with me.

"They look so good!" I told him. "But, why aren't people buying them?"

The man sighed. "They were cultivated," he paused, then leaned closer, "in a different way than normal." He straightened up again, giving me a reassuring smile.

"Oh." was all I said for a moment. I knew what he meant, and I grinned. "How much for the strawberries and black berries?"

He seemed startled for a moment, but answered me. I handed the man the money and popped a berry in my mouth before picking up my baskets and continuing my walk around. I did not find much else that was a good sale.

I silently wished that I had gotten the job, but I would only know sometime next week. I desperately needed the money if I wanted to continue living under a roof and eating when I could.

A sudden thought of living with the Weasleys crossed my mind, but I quickly banished it. Of course I couldn't live with them! Ron didn't live there, neither did Harry and Ginny. They were only staying there for the weeks before the wedding to help put it together. And sleeping on either of their couches was definitely not an option.

I groaned in spite of myself.

How foolish could I be? After what I did to them, I hadn't even expected them to greet me warmly into the house. I had expected them to throw me out, slamming the door on me.

I stopped walking and found myself in front of a bookstore. I gazed at the books in the display and a pang filled my heart. I could not remember the last time I had actually sat down to read a decent book. I longed for the crisp pages of a book, its fluent words creating a story in which you would want to jump into and never leave.

Before I knew what I was doing, I opened the door of the little shop and walked in. I found the half-off rack, and picked up a book. It was a silly, unrealistic romance novel, but the book itself intrigued me. I bought the book and left the store before any other book called me.

I stopped by the supermarket on the way back to my flat, buying some eggs, a carton of milk and a loaf of bread. I also picked up a bag of potatoes and some cheese, glad that I still had some money left over.

I rushed home as quickly as I could before I could be tempted to stop by another store.

Upon arriving, I place all my purchases on the counter in the kitchen, popping another strawberry into my mouth. I checked my phone for messages, but the light was not blinking.

I put everything away in record time, even freezing the majority of the berries so I could enjoy them later in the year. I found myself even whistling, feeling happy for once. It was an emotion I rarely felt, but it was a warm welcome from the numbing pain that it had replaced.

I had just sat down to read my book when there was a knock at the door. I scrambled to get up, momentarily worried that Ron had found me. I shook my head. It was probably just Mrs. Gordon asking me if I had some extra tea lying around, or possibly inviting me to her weekly card game.

"Coming!" I called out when the knock sounded again. I didn't bother to look through the peephole. "Hey, Mrs--" The person at the door was not Mrs. Gordon. Far from it. "Mike."

He stood at my door, his crooked smile on his face. Months ago, that smile would have melted my heart, making me into a puddle of goo.

"Hermione, love. How are you?"

My jaw dropped. How dare he come here after what he put me through; after he had tried to kill me!

"What are you doing here?" I asked, trying not to let my voice quaver. I was not someone who frightened easily. Quite the opposite actually. But, when a man, or anyone really, who tried to kill you not more than half a year before stands at your door, I should think that you would have the right to be scared. I was scared.

"I came to see my best gal. Why else would I be 'ere?" He gave me another smile and handed me a rose that was in his hand. "Will you let me in?"

He didn't wait for me to answer. He pushed past me and closed the door while I stood there like a fool. My mind screamed at my mouth to tell him off, to get him out of my flat. It screamed at my limbs to run as fast as I could, far away, as far away as I could possibly get. It was no use though.

I was paralyzed with fear.

"Hermione, dear, I just wanted to know if--"

"Hey, old lady, shut it, alright? I told you that we were fine." Mike's towering form was still over me. I wondered why he hadn't killed me yet; I guessed he wanted to torture me first.

A series of cuts crossed my body, some on my arms, others on my legs and even a few on my bare stomach. I felt humiliated, lying on the floor in nothing but my undergarments, and scared; who knew how long this torture of small cuts would last?

"Look Mister, I don't know who you are, but I will call the police if I don't see that Miss Granger is fine."

Mike groaned. "Fine!" He stepped out of the landlady's line of sight and threw me my shirt. "Tell 'er anything, and I'll kill you both!" he hissed in my ear.

I dried my tears and composed myself. "Coming."

I opened the door as wide as I could with the lock still on and peeked out at the woman there. She saw my face and relaxed for a moment, but the look of wory resumed its place.

"Dear, are you okay?"

I nodded. "Fine," I said, glad that my voice didn't crack. I made my eyes go wide, trying to warn her that I wasn't okay. I mouthed the words "help me", before I told her good-bye. I closed the door on her gently, hoping she understood.

I turned back to face my doom, only to see Mike standing there, laughing. "You're an amazing actress." In one fluid motion, he had me pulled against his chest. "Too bad you didn't use it when it counted."

My eyes grew even wider in fear.

I could feel the blade run to and fro along my neck, its cold metal telling me that this was it. I would not live any longer. I would never marry, it told me, or have kids, or have my happily-ever-after. I would never be whole, never live into old age and reminisce about "the good ol' days", it whispered as it ran lower down my back. I would never–

Sirens.

In the distance.

Coming closer.

Mike suddenly let me go and looked out of my window. I heard the sirens stop at my window, but I doubted they would get here in time.

"Shit!" Mike cursed. "You're a lucky bitch, you know that?" He plunged the knife into my stomach, a searing pain engulfing my entire body, making my shake violently. Black spots passed over my eyes until I fell unconscious.

"Why are you here?" I asked again, wishing that I had never opened the door.

"To see you of course!" I wanted him out of my flat so badly that I was ready to do almost anything. Almost.

"I have to leave soon," I lied, "so you can't stay long."

"Hermione," he came closer to me, "I saw you come in from your little shopping trip. I know you've done all your errands."

Had he been spying on me?

"I forgot something."

"You and I both know you never forget anything."

"Well, even the best of us slip sometimes." I was getting worried, but I tried not to show it on my face. I had no idea how convincing I was.

He took another step closer to me. A sense of déjà vu washed over me as a knock on the door resounded through my silent flat.

"Hermione?"

I rushed to the door before Mike could stop me. "Ron!" I cried out, flinging open the door. I threw my arms around him, trying not to cry.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

I could feel him stiffen and I knew that Mike was behind us.

"Hermione, would you mind detaching yourself from this..." he paused, looking for the right word to describe Ron, "person."

I tightened my hold on him. "No."

"I need you to come inside so we can... talk."

"Ron can come too."

"No, he cannot. This is between you and me." Mike spat.

"Look mate, I dunno who you are, but if Hermione wants me to come in, this is her flat after all."

I could tell Mike was struggling. "Fine."

I let go of Ron, and he followed me closely as I shut the door.

"Look, Mike. Whatever you wanted to talk about, I don't want to hear it. Okay?" I tried to keep my voice calm, but it was getting increasingly difficult.

"I came to apologize, 'oping you'd take me back."

I raised my eyebrow. "Take you back? Take you back!?" my voice was raising. "After you tried killing me!?"

"He tried to kill you?" Ron gasped. I placed my hand on his, silently telling him to back off... for the moment.

"I was off my meds! I didn't know what I was doing, pet. Believe me, I still love you!" He turned and glared at Ron. "I guess you don't love me since you've already moved on with this bloke." His frown turned into a smirk. "Just to warn you though, she's 'orrible in bed."

It was one thing to insult me when we were alone, but another to insult me in front of one of my best friends.

Before I could stop things, Ron rushed past me and punched Mike in the mouth, sending him stumbling a few paces back.

I stood there dumbstruck as both men fought.

"That's enough!" I suddenly yelled. "Mike, I want you to leave and never ever come back!" I flung open my door to show I was serious. "Out! Now!" He scrambled out, holding his nose that was gushing blood. I slammed the door and sighed, slumping down against the wall.

Ron came next to me. He sat down along the wall and took my hand in his. I rested my head on his shoulder. "Thanks."

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Author's note: Donno when I'm going to get another chapter out. Hopefully soon. PLEASE REVIEW! It makes my day :P