A/N: Hello....So here's the new chapter! Just want to say a huge thank you for those who have put me on story alert, and to urbanmama for your review! I hope you guys like this instalment!
Thanks again
Love xAx

DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING OF WIZARDING WORLD!
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Thump! The gathering at the table wasn't anything new. It was becoming a regular occurrence; they would join before dinner, counting the thumps from above, cringing every time. It was usually the only sound they could hear, although today the sound of Harry scribbling a note to Hermione filled the room. They all knew they needed to get Hermione as soon as possible; it was their only chance of getting Ron out of his room for a start.

The situation was beginning to get everyone down; Mrs Weasley tried her hardest to hide her tears whenever she heard a thump, or saw Ginny descending the stairs, a look of sheer disappointment and hurt on her face. Harry was beside himself, worry and guilt filling him, ready to overflow. Harry would join Ginny at Ron's bedroom door whenever he wasn't at the shop, allowing her to cry on his shoulder. George found himself sitting at the table with Fleur, counting, the days, the hours, minutes and seconds that he hadn't seen his little brother-his heart beating in panic, he wasn't sure if he could cope if he lost another brother-in fact-none of them could. Mr Weasley, Bill and Percy would wonder what sight was waiting for them at The Burrow. Both Bill and Percy showed the disappointment on their faces when they realised Ron hadn't joined them for dinner. Again.

Thump! The sound almost vibrated with the strength in which Ron fell.

"That makes three today." George muttered but everyone heard. The silence was deafening, no one knew what to say, the usual conversation was held over dinner to try to complete some normalcy.

There was an almighty crash that came from the back door, before anyone could say or look at each other Harry was running to the source of the noise. He returned to the room with a trunk saying four words as he did:

"Hermione got my letter."

Hermione…

She read the letter one last time before pulling out her wand and sending her trunk to The Burrow. She wondered on whether it was worth telling her parents where she was about go, no doubt they would hear her Disapparating. They were still rather angry with her actions, so much that they were currently discussing if they wanted their daughter to return to the Wizarding World, something Hermione had already told them they had no choice over. She prepared herself for the imminent travel, deciding that her boyfriend and family needed her more than her parents. Still jetlagged, she knew it would be risky to Apparate, yet she took a deep breath and turned on the spot, not even bothering to leave a note.

She had travelled to the lane in which lead to The Burrow, knowing the protective boundaries wouldn't allow her to travel directly into the grounds. She took her time to walk, her mind racing faster than her body. She couldn't understand the sudden change in Ron's behaviour that Harry had explained in his letter. He had been distant, picking and choosing when to spent time with people and whenever she and Harry had decided Ron had spent enough time brooding on his own he would except their presence when they joined him in his room.

But now, it seemed that he had pushed everyone out, not eaten, a factor that worried Hermione the most-especially as she remembered his behaviour in the tent-all due to lack of food. She walked slowly, just managing to see the crocked roof The Burrow as she craned her neck. She was immediately filled with the feeling of being home, all combined with dread of what she might find; everyone had been so distraught after the war, Hermione had seen things she never thought in her lifetime was possible; like a serious George, or a crying Bill, everyone seemed so lost, the family incomplete, even now when she recalled the names of everyone the list seemed empty.

Hermione found she was mentally preparing herself for what she might find, she knew that Harry would be feeling guilty, secretly blaming himself for all the heartache, she made a mental note to check on him too. She knew she had to be strong-or at least try. The Weasley's couldn't lose anymore, they simply couldn't cope, she wasn't sure if she could even cope, she always acted as she did, as much as Ron did in order to support Harry, and although she gave into, usually breaking down at night in Ron's arms, it was still taking its toll on her. Hermione could fill the pressure from all sides, both sides of parents still wanted to know what they were up too whilst they were away; information all the trio refused to tell. She was needed by Harry and Ron, although the former not so much now he had Ginny, but now, Harry and Ginny might need her more than ever.

She arrived, seeing that the outside of the house was looking tidier than it was when she had left. Instead of heading straight into the rickety house, she made her way to Fred's grave, replacing the flowers she had left before going to Australia with fresh ones. Whipping a tear she headed for the house. Just as Hermione had opened the door she was met with a fierce hug from Mrs Weasley, who began immediately to fuss around her.

Once she had been adequately fed to Mrs Weasley's standards, Hermione and Harry took a walk in one of the vast fields that surrounded The Burrow, where she insisted he tell her everything before she saw Ron.

He woke up with the most amazing pain in his back; he figured it was from the fall combined with lying on the hard wooden floor for an unknown period of time. He laid there for a while, enjoying the constant throb that beat in tandem with his heart. It brought a smile to Ron's face, he had achieved his goal for that day; supplying pain without the use of a knife-although using sharp objects was still his favourite way of getting his fix.

He could hear voices coming from below, it sounded vaguely like his mother in some sort of excitement, not that he could be sure, he hadn't heard his mother's voice in such a long time he thought he had forgotten it.

The pain was beginning to dull, thinking that moving might encourage it, Ron managed to stand up, using the window sill to lean on. His head was spinning so fast, it was to the point that it was making him nauseous.

He managed to regain control of head, he found it took longer than usual, not that it worried him, he had all night. For a while he stood there, eyes closed, tiredness and lack of pain attempting to take over but not quite succeeding. Ron allowed his senses to overtake the mad rushing of thoughts in his head; he could hear crying, it was hysterical, every sob grated through him, each one coursing guilt, hate and shame into his soul. He knew for sure that the sound was coming from his mother, he had heard it, caused that sound too many times.

Unable to stand it anymore, he stumbled over to his draws raiding through it to find his release; he was so focused into finding any sharp object he didn't hear the knocking at his door. Eventually he found it, not even bothering to take the time to admire the sharpness, nor how shiny the blade was, he searched his arms for a space: there wasn't one. He moved over to his legs, almost laughing out loud that his arms were now so filled up with his art that we had to find a new canvas. Just as he dug the blade into his, the door handle began to turn, how was it unlocked? Unless…

His mind was racing, the only person who knew the lock charm he had used would be Hermione, after all he had learnt it from her, but she couldn't be here, she had told Ron herself she wouldn't be back for another week or so. He was panic stricken; he needed to feel the blood pour down his leg, for the pain to render him unconscious. He dragged the blade across his skin just as the door opened.