"Ronald!" Hermione called after her boyfriend as he stormed out of the room. She gave one look of apology over to Matt and Harry and immediately chased after Ron. "Ronald, wait!" Hermione called.
"Don't you, 'Ronald wait' me!" Ron snarled at Hermione as he flew down the staircases. "You should not be alone with that guy! He's absolutely mental, using a spell like that around people!"
"What was he supposed to do?" Hermione shot back. "You demanded he show you everything. You got what you wanted. I can't help it if you don't like what you asked for."
"That's not even a real spell! He shouldn't be allowed to use it! He could've killed someone just now!" Ron snarled back as he rounded another staircase.
"But he didn't! He said he wasn't going to use the spell. You pushed him too. This wasn't how I expected this go at all!" Hermione fired back, barely keeping pace with him.
"Oh? And how was it supposed to go Hermione? Huh? Was I supposed to fawn over him like you and Ginny have? He's even got Harry fooled!"
"What are you talking about?" Hermione asked.
"Oh, I see what's going on here! Blame Ron for making the Death Eater in disguise feel bad about exposing himself."
"You can't believe that still! He's not a Death Eater! He didn't attack us; he attacked the floor." Hermione spat. "You were the one who wanted it! You didn't even follow proper dueling etiquette when you dueled with him. You played dirty! How can you be angry with him when it's your fault?!"
"Because no one in their right mind would do that! That's why! He's bloody dangerous Hermione. I don't want you around him!" Ron snarled. He finally reached the entrance hall and charged into the Great Hall. Thankfully, it was entirely empty.
"You don't get to decide that for me! I thought we already established this." Hermione fired back. Ron marched over to one of the fireplaces and threw a handful of Floo powder into it from a pouch inside his robes.
"We're going to go back to the Burrow, you're going to write McGonagall and tell her you've changed your mind and aren't coming back and that you want the same thing that she gave to me and Harry. And that way we can just forget this place and start a family." Ron snarled, as if his word was the final law. He reached over and snatched Hermione's left wrist and pulled her towards the emerald-green flames in the fireplace.
"Ron! Let go! You're hurting me!" Hermione said and tried to wrestle out of his grip. Ron struggled with her as she dug her heels in and tried to spin.
"No! I'm not letting go of you, now come on Hermione!" Ron said yanking her hard towards the fireplace. Hermione had had enough. She pivoted on her left heel away from Ron and then came back with her right hand and struck him hard in the face.
Ron gasped and let go of her before he stumbled into the fireplace and shouted, "The Burrow!" and disappeared.
Hermione felt something inside her break. She hit him. And he was hurting her. She had had to defend herself against the one person she was never supposed to have to defend herself against. The dam of emotions she had been building dissolved like ash in the wind.
Hermione's head rocked back, and she let out a scream of pain and sorrow. Something she had held dear and near to her heart for so many years had been shattered. It hurt so much. The tears flowed freely down her cheeks, and she felt her knees go out from under her.
Hermione felt herself toss sideways. Her arms found a bench and she sobbed into them. There was nothing more she could do than that. Everything she had sacrificed over the years, all the pain and heartache. The danger, the fear, the scars, all of it. It was all made worthwhile knowing that it was for her family.
Hermione had been an only child, there was not anyone else there. No siblings. She had grown up, just like Harry had, living with Muggles, never knowing her potential. Then her letter showed up, suddenly she was part of something bigger. She threw herself wholeheartedly into that world. Hermione had cared so deeply about it.
Even when she had first, awkwardly come into it, she had some struggles. It was not until almost a full two months into her first year at Hogwarts before she finally made friends with Harry and Ron. The three had been inseparable almost ever since. It was not until now that they were about to enter different life paths that they were diverging. She never thought this day would ever come. Never would she imagine her oldest, closest friend, whom she loved dearly, would ever try to hurt her.
He not only tried but succeeded in so many ways of hurting her. Her wrist burned where he had grabbed her and twisted. She was sure it would bruise. Her opposite hand hurt where it had impacted Ron's face. His stupid charming face, the one that was always lit up with laughter when they were together, now turned to anger and rage in her head.
She could not get the image of Ron's face, twisted in pain and anger at her out of her head. She had caused that. Oddly, she felt no guilt about it though. She hit him, he was beyond reason, trying to hurt her so she did what she had to do. But Hermione did not feel good about it at all. Not the same way she had felt when she struck Malfoy five years earlier.
Hermione could not go back to the Burrow now. She did not know that their relationship was salvageable. She did not know what she would do. The Burrow, she thought of family when she thought of it. How she was sure they would turn against her. How Ron had hurt her when he said he wanted her to start a family.
He still did not know about the letter from Madam Pomfrey, and now he never would. In all the hurt Hermione took a small bit of solace that even if Ron would want to repair the damage, she was not defenseless and could still hurt him if she had to. It would not be as effective as a slap or a punch, but it would still hurt all the same.
Suddenly there was pressure on her shoulders. Gentle hands, touching her.
"Hermione…" came the voice, sadness filled it. It was familiar to her. She knew it as well as her own, the only other person she cared deeply for.
"Harry!" she cried out and clutched Harry's shoulders. A fresh wave of anxiety and pain washed over her, and she buried her face in his shoulder. Harry wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. She cried like she had never cried before in her life.
The comfort of someone who was as close to her as a brother was what she needed desperately. Harry patted her back and just let her feel her emotions. He would occasionally whisper in her ear that he was still there, and it would be ok.
"Ron…" Hermione finally started, her voice strained and horse. "He…hurt me…"
"I know." Harry quietly replied.
"I don't know what to do." Hermione's voice was panicked.
"It's ok, you can stay with me at Grimmauld Place, until we figure things out." Harry said, already having at least something that resembled a plan. Hermione nodded.
"Oh, no…" Hermione moaned as she slowly stood, her composure was coming back somewhat. "In the heat of the argument, I forgot all about Matt and Ginny and Luna."
"It's ok Hermione. Matt's gone back to the Hospital Wing. He said to tell you he hopes you're ok. Ginny and Luna have gone as well." Harry explained. "You really should just come back home and rest for now."
Hermione broke into fresh sobs at this. She was the one always taking care of the others, rarely did someone take care of her. It felt wonderful, knowing that she was not the one who had to take care of herself when she was having a crisis.
Hermione cried the whole way to Professor McGonagall's office, the Headmistress herself offering the sobbing student a motherly hug and some small, yet reassuring words. Harry took her through the fireplace back to Grimmauld Place. The dusty old apartment was in much better shape since she had last seen it. Harry had obviously been busy, and she smiled weakly.
"I'll ask Ginny if she can bring your things from The Burrow." Harry said. Hermione nodded as he walked her to the room she had used when they were staying here during their fifth year. Hermione found a few little mementos she had left behind were still there. Nothing significant but seeing an old quill and some textbooks from her fourth year were oddly comforting.
She laid down to sleep in the bed and was quickly overtaken by sleep. Her body was exhausted, the fight after the duel had taken more from her than she had really wanted or ever expected.