A/N: Sorry, for the long wait. I've been really, really busy. Erghh…. I was even thinking of just giving up on this sequel because of my hectic life, but I definitely won't even consider it after all the nice reviews. (Plus, I've got so many plans for this and plot lines I need to finish up!) I'll definitely try to update more. And if I don't update to your satisfaction you can nag me in the reviews section, and I'll try to adjust my schedule accordingly (No promises). Anyhow, thanks for everyone who reviewed in the last update, and please stick around. I promise that once things slow down I'll update more frequently. And WARNING for offensive language—there may or may not be a fight….
Caligirl: Thanks! And your advice was good. I hope the next few chapters are better?
Ginny's the new head girl. Hermione's not surprised. "Are you sure you're not upset?" They ask her over and over again as if at any moment her emotions will immediately morph into some intangible sadness or anger regarding the event. She tells them she's fine, and she really is. But, of course, they won't believe her, looking at her as if she's some Pinocchio incapable of telling them the truth. And, sure, she'll admit that she's a bit jealous (and maybe just a tad bitter). However, she really is truly happy for Ginny. And the whole event isn't at all unexpected; Ginny will make a great head girl.
Ginny tells her she'll decline the post if Hermione wants her too. Harry keeps reassuring Hermione that she's got plenty of other great things in her life to focus on. Mrs. Weasley makes her eat thirds at dinner. Her healer wants to talk about her feelings surrounding the subject for a whole session. And, Ron mutters on about how it's for the best whenever the subject is brought up.
And Hermione can't help but think that all this attention and concern for her is sorely misplaced. They should be congratulating and celebrating Ginny's accomplishment. It's a big deal. She, of all people, knows. They should be just as proud and happy for Ginny as they were when the previous Weasley children were named head's. But instead of a merry affair, the family was solemn when they heard the news. Curt nods and mumbled "congratulations" were afterthoughts to the worried glances they sent Hermione for days after. They seemed to think that celebrating it might bother her, send her over the edge back into a relapse?
It's not till they arrive at platform 9 ¾ that she realizes how jealous she truly is, how bitter she is over the whole affair. It's only because it would give her the authority, the power, the control of the situation around her. It would give her some task, something to do to distract herself from the disapproving glares of girls who once idolized the ground she walked on. And, maybe, just maybe, if she still could wear that Head Girl badge, they'd still look at her and not see a total failure. She could prove that she didn't lose everything in her rendezvous with starvation. But there really is nothing left. She's lost everything, and the whole school seems to know it.
"You ready?" Ron says. She wants to tell him that 'no, she is not', but that doesn't seem to be a good idea. Not really. What would he say in response? That she doesn't have to go. No, she's made too much of a mess already, and it's time she fix it. She has to face her fears.
But is she ready? Is she really recovered? Or will she sink back into temptation once back to the pressures of Hogwarts? She's already been faced with the pressure to carve into her skin and get a therapeutic rush of pain. And there is always the overwhelming voices beggin her to purge the meals she's consumed, reminding her of the way the fat will cling to her body. But she's been able to handle it. Or has she?
Maybe it's just that she wouldn't be able to do those things at the Weasley's. It was made impossible. She never had to face the pressures without external forces present. If she wanted to cut, there was never a moment alone or a sharp object alone. If she wanted to skip a meal, a threat of St. Mungo's would be vocalized. If she didn't eat enough, more food was piled on her plate. And she was never allowed to be alone or go to the bathroom for 3 hours after a meal, making purging simply impossible. Plus, there was the added luxury of having every mirror and scale removed from the house, to ensure that'd she'd be relapse free.
There will be no silver spoon at Hogwarts to stop her from temptation. By no means will she be left to her own devices (and it will annoy her to no avail), but she'll have more freedom. She'll have more temptations and oppurtunities to fall into a relapse. It's like this whole thing is a test, but she's not sure she's ready to take it without failing. She's not sure if she'll ever be able to.
She nods her head, and the group departs their separate ways. Ron and Ginny head off towards the prefect's cart, bickering as heads and siblings over who'll do what.
"You all right?" Harry asks her, once it's just the two of them
"Fine," she chokes out, trying to ignore a group of fifth years, who she vaguely recognizes as the group that had begged for her autograph all last semester. They mock her now, enjoying her downfall as a source of amusement. Hermione had once stood a role model to so many of the younger girls, even during last semester. And she had so neglectfully disappointed them and thrown it all away. The ring leader (a Gryffindor, to only make the matter worse) looked straight at her and started to make gagging gestures. Her friends soon copied her motions, cackling as her cheeks turned bright red. A rebel of the group gets creative she begins to pretend she is cutting herself. Hermione can't help but flinch at that, and her eyes begin to flirt with the ground. "Why wouldn't I be?"
At the sound of a low 'Moo!' coming from their direction, she is forced to look up and pay notice to the little monsters. Harry follows her gaze to the perpetuators of her noticeable horror. "Ignore them, 'Mione," he says, "They're only third years."
She nods her head. "I'm trying to Harry, but I didn't think anybody would know. I didn't know I'd have to face this sort of thing."
"You shouldn't have to," Harry agreed, quickly. He picked up both their trunks and led her to the Hogwarts express.
But the 'Moos' still rung in her ears, even once they'd found the safety of an empty compartment. "It's okay if you're bummed," Harry says, "Even, I get a little jealous of Ron sometimes."
Hermione smiles, "You should tell him that, you know. It would really help him out in the self-esteem department. Help eradicate his side-kick syndrome."
"He's seemed to get over it."
She shrugs her shoulders, "Maybe he has. I've been a little bit preoccupied with myself lately."
"And that's fine," Harry lectures, "You can put yourself first once in a while. You don't always have to care about everyone else."
"I don't. I didn't," she says, with a solemn look of defeat, "That's part of the problem. Last semester I didn't care about anyone but myself."
"That's not true..." Harry tries to console her, "You were sick, you had more important things going on than everyone else. You still are."
"No, no." Hermione says tears starting to build up behind her eyes, like a water dam ready to burst. "You and Ron are trying to save Sirius and might die doing it. And I should really be stopping you from doing something far more dangerous and risky than any battle you've ever done."
"It's not that dangerous," Harry says, "And, see you're not self involved. You've voiced your concerns about us fluently and managed to figure out a lot more than we wanted you to."
"But, I knew what Pansy was doing. I knew how bad it had gotten, but I didn't tell anyone. Instead I helped her. I helped her kill herself. I helped her die."
At this point, she's crying without constraint. She knows it's ridiculous. That she shouldn't have brought it up. Lately it seems like she can't even have a conversation without it turning into some emotional epiphany. It's truly embarassing, and she hurriedly attempts to hide her face from view of both the train windows and glass cabin doors. But anyone passing by can clearly see her dismay. Including Ron checking to make sure everyone's in a cabin before the train departs.
He opens the cabin door without hesitation. "Blimey, Harry. 5 minutes. You had to watch over her for five minutes and she's already in tears."
"It's not like you could do any better," Harry's voice is harsh.
"Well, come on, comfort her."
"Why don't you?" Harry challenges, "If you think you're so much better at helping her, go ahead."
"You know I can't."
"Can't what? Be a human being." Harry's voice is unfamiliar. It frightens Hermione. There's so much anger, so much hate. And what's worse is that she's the cause, the trigger for this whole ordeal.
"Stop being a bloody git."
"Me? You've been an asshole to Hermione. Just because you can't be together doesn't give you the right to be wanker."
Hermione can barely breathe. She hates when Ron and Harry fight. But to make it worse—they're fighting about her. At any moment she expects them to shout insults directly at her.
"Shut up, Harry. You don't know anything. You haven't done shit. I'm the one who's had to take care of everything, fix everything."
"And you've done a great job." Harry's sarcasm is not lost on Hermione. She could feel her pulse quicken. That insult hurt, stung. Was she really such a failure?
"She's right there, you know?" Ron says, "I've never made her cry, I've never made it worse."
"Right, because that's why you're not allowed to date anymore."
"Shut up!" Ron says, "You know…that wasn't all my fault"
"It's your fucking fault! But you can't see that because you're too busy telling everyone else what to do. So sorry, but maybe you should be the one cleaning up the mess."
She's just a mess apparently. A really horrible mess that nobody really wants to help. She's like the dishes nobody wants to do, an argument over an unwanted obligation. She's known it all along.
The words keep trickling out of their mouths, bitter shut downs and angry blames. All the while, they forget she's here, it's as if she's invisible, it's as if she doesn't matter. Some of the words, no, a lot of the words hurt, a lot. And she wants to tell them to stop, that in their argument over who's hurt her more, they've managed to emotionally destroy her in minutes. She wants to know if they realize that their mutilating the fragments of self-esteem she's been trying to build up, and she wonders if they even care.
That's when Ginny comes in. She sees Hermione crying, and Ron and Harry facing off, nearly yelling their insults for the whole carriage to hear. She's fuming as she comes to deduce what has happened. "Don't you two morons realize you're upsetting her? Stop it."
But the fight continues. In fact, it worsens, because now it is between three of her so called "friends" instead of two. Add in the already delicate chemistry of best friends, romance, and siblings, and there is no doubt that it will emerge into a full out brawl between Ron and Harry. By the time it does, Hermione is barely able to breathe. Her vision is foggy, and her hearing is overwhelmed with sharp words and backhanded insults.
She has to get away from it. It's all just too much. As she squeezes through the eager students watching their 'heroes' beating each other up like old fashioned muggles, she realizes that everyone is looking at her differently. And then she sees the group of fifth years, yet again. They lock eyes with her and the one in front smiles. "Attention whore."
"You mean Anorexic whore?" The one to her left gives a cruel laugh, despite her joke not being at all funny.
"That too." The girl looks right at her, and it's all just too much for Hermione. She has to run down the hall, squeezing through the hordes of students hoping to see the ordeal characterized by the growing chant of "Fight! Fight! Fight!"
The tears flood over her face until she runs into something, no, someone. She stops and looks up to apologize. But is shocked to see none other than Malfoy. "I'm sorry…" she mumbles before trying to swerve her way around him. But he grabs her wrist, so she can't leave.
She turns around to look at him, a wild look in her eye. "You're going to get yourself killed," he says, before realizing how stupid his words are. She begins to cry harder. "Oh shit! I'm sorry Hermione! I wasn't thinking."
He pulls her into an empty cabin (its occupants probably gone due to the call of a good fight), and sits her down. He shuts the glass doors, muffling out the chaos and noise that was making her so upset, but not completely eradicating it. He lets her cry for a long time, more than Harry and Ron would, without interference.
He doesn't make her talk. He doesn't try to fix her. But, in that moment, he does save her.
A/N: I'm sure you all want to kill me right now. But I do promise this is, without a doubt, a Ron/Hermione story. Okay?