Hello, I don't normally write lengthy 'hellos' or intros but I was mortified to see how long its been since I last posted. I have 3 reasons for this:

I have been feeling uninspired (but since HP 7 part 2 I'm feeling a little obsessed again)

For a few months every time I came on I would get a horrible Trojan virus on my laptop and would have to restore my whole system. I'm pretty sure it was from fanfiction. I have risked coming on here again and so far no virus. ;)

I pretty much wrote this story with no idea as to where it was going and pretty much sit in front of the laptop and wing it. This combined with feeling uninspired meant I really had no motivation to write.

I'm Sorry.

Enough rambling, here's the next part. I promise it won't be so long for the next part.

Days past and Hermione woke up feeling like she'd never slept. Her eyes felt sore, she lifted her head and winced, lying back onto the pillow. It was Saturday, she'd worked flat out all week, tying up any lose ends and handing over her work to her colleagues before she left to work for Magical Law.

She knew they were more than capable of picking up her work, for her notes had been thorough and she had written precise guidelines and policies from the start but she wanted to be buried within her work, she wanted to block out everything.

When she inhaled the old dusty scent of a tome plucked by her elfin hands from the ministry's impressive library she could drift into timelessness. That's what she had done last night, when everyone had gone home and she felt she had nowhere to go. She went to her old friend and sat amongst the shelves with piles of book, appreciating the eerie calm of her surroundings and the feeling that she was not supposed to be there. When her jaw began to ache from stifling yawns, she had flooed herself to her quiet flat.

Upon her arrival, she pointed her wand wordlessly towards the kitchen and a glass of water poured itself and drifted towards her. Her eyes surveyed the living room as she sipped her water. Their cosy living arrangements showed the remnants of a joyous evening. Harry had been here and even Ron perhaps. Maybe they had waited for her, maybe not. Then she had drifted into bed and fallen asleep immediately.

She must have drifted off to sleep again because the in the next instant she was woken up with a start.

"Hermione?"

It was Rons voice, he was attempting to whisper, but it was still loud and booming to her.

She gasped as she saw him studying her and then suddenly the reality of the situation came crashing down on her. Ron was here, in her room, peering at her whilst she slept in a small pair of shorts and a buttoned flannel shirt. Her cheeks bloomed crimson and she held the covers of the bed close to her as she barked words at him.

"Ron!" It was a questions and a statement tinged with utter mortification. When he just stood there confused by her reaction, she continued. "Leave Ron..." Still nothing, she could see he was trying to stammer out something but she could not wait for his words, could not sit under his piercing gaze. "Now!"

He visible bristled at the sheer aggression in her voice and turned his back on her and march out. He had come because it was a beautiful Saturday morning and he had woken up with her on his mind. All he had wanted to do was to see her and maybe spend the day with her but he knew she would make excuses if he asked, so he'd just shown up. Big mistake.

He knew about the argument between harry and Hermione, he knew about the promotion and despite his anger he had wanted to spend some time with her before she became so buried under with work at the ministry that she forgot to eat. His good intentions were wasted as he was met with hostility. She had treated him like he had broken her heart when the truth was it had been the other way round.

Flashback

A few days after the war.

"So...you and Hermione, huh? Finally..." Harry spoke with a mouth stuffed with food. He had not stopped eating since the war ended.

Ron was eating too but for once in his life, much less ferociously. He shrugged although it pained him to do so. "Well sort of...I mean we both want to, it's just I think it's too soon after everything. It feels wrong to be with her and be happy when Fred...well...you know..."

Harry felt like kicking himself, they had been sharing a few moments of lighthearted relief and he had brought up all the pain of the past few days. The Burrow had been full of it. Mr and Mrs Weasley had been silent, retreating to corners of the house and mourning privately.

Ginny had sought comfort in him but also from her brothers. Ron had had Hermione to a certain extent but Hermione had been worried sick about her parents and gone to find them with Kingsley. All in all, the Burrow was a dark and tense place to be, you could feel it in the air, but sometimes if you were still, you could feel something else too. Maybe it was hope and healing, no it was more like a future. Something the trio had been careful to dream about.

Ron especially, he had admitted to himself long ago that Hermione was the one for him. The things they had been through the past 7 years made the thought of beginning a relationship with anyone else laughable.

He'd waited for her to return from Australia and when she did everyones attention turned to her. They had heard from Harry and Ron of all the times Hermiones quick thinking and knowledge had saved their lives.

She had also been on the front page of The Quibbler for surviving the cruicatus curse despite being under it for a record time. It had brought up questions about her brain, people asked whether it had survived the torture unharmed because it was so powerful. Ron knew it was because its possessor was courageous and the most strong minded person he knew.

Hermione received floods of letters from admiring wizards and witches, more than Harry had. Ron was proud, Hermione was bashful. She clung to him in those days, withdrawn and tired, showing life only when Ron held her tight or played with her hair. He was worried her spirit has been stifled by all the darkness. Others noticed too. It wasn't long before his mother was urging Hermione to be checked out at St Mungos.

"Hermione dear, you're body has been under so much stress and you've been exposed to the darkest kind of magic..."

Her response was soft but clear. "I'm fine Mrs Weasley, honestly..."

"Those scars on your neck, if they're causing you pain or-"

Ron had noticed Hermione tense and stare at the floor at these words, hed exchanged a worried glance with Harry.

Harry moved towards Hermione and put an arm around his shoulder. "You should get checked out Hermione, you need to know if there's any damage done or if those scars can be healed. You never know they might flare up if you don't get them looked at"

The silence that followed was filled with anticipation but Hermione neither looked up nor spoke. She just tightened her hold on Ron's hand.

Harry continued regardless, remembering the number of times Hermione had forced him to face the truth. "Hermione...you need to know..."

For some reason this appeared to anger her. She had let go of Ron's hand and pushed Harry's arm off from around her shoulders. She marched out towards the back door, but stopped midway. "I don't need to know anything!"

End of flashback

He had always looked back at that memory with a certainty that it was that moment he had known that something was happening to Hermione that he couldn't understand. Something, she couldn't understand.

He was woken from his thoughts by his sister.

"Ron? What are you doing standing there?" her nose was scrunched with confusion.

He shook his head and then looked at her with forlorn eyes. "Nothing, I was just leaving"