A/N: I was rather surprised at how many people added this to their favorites or alert list; way more than I anticipated! I have plans to rewrite this later, more than likely as it's own work (as in, not a fanfic) so reviews would be incredibly appreciated.

A few days passed, then a week, and soon she lost track of how long it had been. It was nearly six months before she looked at a calendar. She hadn't received mail (if she did, she probably looked at it and through it in the bin), and no one even took the time to visit her in those six months. Not only had she lost Ron, but the crushing loneliness that had taken his place was becoming unbearable. She seemed to have lost everyone else in the time it took for him to walk out the door. She wondered how much everyone must hate her for hurting him.

A loud crack echoed throughout her bedroom. She looked up from the pillow she was resting on, and saw something she didn't expect. A tall, thin, black-haired man wearing glasses was standing next to the bed. She stared at him for a solid thirty seconds before dissolving into tears again, wondering if she was hallucinating. She couldn't believe it had taken him this long to finally check on her. She couldn't be angry however; it was finally a chance to get rid of the aching loneliness in her heart.

Hermione felt the bed sink down next to her and a hand resting on her back, gently rubbing it until she felt herself calm down. She pulled herself up into a sitting position, Indian style with a pillow on her lap, tears still sliding down her face. Harry watched her for a moment.

"Hermione, I didn't realize that things were this bad. Maybe I should take you to 's. I'm worried about your health…" He hadn't taken his hand from her back. He was babbling, unsure of what to say.

"I don't need to go to 's. I'll be fine…" Her voice was still hollow and flat. "I'll be fine." There was sureness in her voice, but Harry still shifted uneasily.

"Hermione, you haven't been to work in six months. Arthur's worried about you. He wanted to come himself but I told him I'd go. Ron refuses to even speak of the subject..." Harry blanched, hating to hear the words himself, "Hermione, I want you to forget him. He's not worth it if he hurts you this much."

Hermione stared at him, considering what'd just said. She wanted to move on; she just wanted her life back. She wanted to go back to her job, to enjoy life again. But Ron was the thing about her life she'd enjoyed the most. And he was gone. She'd do anything to get him back.

"Harry, I'm…just…I want my life back. I miss him so much, I can't sleep, I can't eat, I can't even function. I feel like I'll never be happy again. I don't know how to let him go…especially not when all I want is to have him back." Hermione dissolved into tears before she could even finish her speech on how she wasn't functioning. She felt Harry's hand resting on her back again, and she dissolved further into tears. That was when she realized he hadn't said that he was worried about her

"Harry, why are you here? Why didn't you just let Arthur come?" She couldn't even force the curiosity into her voice like she wanted to; she wasn't entirely sure she wanted him to see her this way.

"Hermione, I love you. You're…like my sister, and I haven't heard from you in six months. I haven't seen you in six months, and I was wondering if I was ever going to hear from you again. I was afraid that you had taken your own life and no one had cared enough to even look for you. What I found was better than that alternative, but I'm afraid that if I had come any later that it would have happened. I want to kick myself right now for not coming sooner. I should have been here." He pulled her close, letting her rest against him. "And from what I can see, you've lost a lot of weight, probably from not eating well for six months."

Hermione shifted guiltily against him, thinking of the razorblades she had stashed away in her medicine chest.

"You're right. It wasn't far off. Maybe I should check myself in to St. Mungo's. Do you really think they could help me?" Hermione felt so distant from herself. She even heard it in her voice. She turned slightly and looked into Harry's vivid green eyes.

He sighed, "I don't want you to go, Hermione, but I can't stand seeing you like this. You're a mess. You can't go on like this."

She didn't want to leave him, either, she realized. Maybe it was the loneliness that still gripped her, maybe something more, but she knew that she couldn't do this without him.

"Harry, I don't think I want to go. I don't want to leave you. You're the first person I've talked to since he left. Maybe, just maybe, you can help me get him back. Take me to him. Tie him to a chair. It doesn't matter what you do, just make him listen to me. Please."

Harry considered her for a moment. The look she saw on his face told her everything she didn't want to know—he was adamant about not seeing her ever again.

"Hermione…as much as I'd like to do that, and believe me, I would. I'm fairly certain he's moved on. He's met someone else. Her name is Elizabeth." He paused to take a deep breath, "He asked her to marry him last night."

Hermione heard what he said and just froze in place. It felt like the world had dropped out from under her. She didn't dissolve into tears. It just reaffirmed her belief. Her relationship with Ron was long over. She couldn't think of anything to say. She just sat and stared into space wondering how much she'd missed in six months. How much she could have done. She took a deep breath.

"I'm done being upset over him. He's moved on, and I deserve to do the same."