Hermione didn't know at what point she fell asleep, but it was restless, and, roused by the sun in the morning, she felt as tired as she had before nodding off. She headed back to Gryffindor Tower to sleep some more if she could, but she met Harry halfway through.

"Thank Merlin, we found you," Harry mumbled, then called out, "Ginny! Got her!"

"Box her ears for me, please! Even though it is her birthday!" A voice called from somewhere distant. Harry grinned.

"Happy Birthday! We didn't see you at night, and you were missing from your bed in the morning, and we thought someone had hidden you in a seven-step treasure box or something."

Hermione smiled, but her eyes flooded with tears again. Oh damn, why couldn't she control them for five minutes?

"Hermione? Are you okay?" Harry asked, more concerned. At this, she threw her arms around him and hugged him hard. She kept her tears to herself, though. Blubbing was not something she did in front of her best friends. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ginny make an appearance, and she withdrew.

"What's going on, Hermione?" Ginny asked, quickly taking in the scene.

"Ron broke up with me last night. Because there were some things I couldn't tell him yet. He considered it to be a lack of trust and said he couldn't do it anymore," Hermione said tonelessly, holding back her emotions. She allowed herself any amount of crying in private if she just made it through the public time.

"What?" Harry looked at her disbelievingly. Then, as Hermione watched, his expression changed from shock to anger, and he said, "We talked about this, me and Ron. I won't let him just forget it. I need to talk to him."

"No, you don't," Hermione immediately grabbed his arm. "You look like you'd eat him alive, and I'm definitely not letting a lunatic with anger issues roam free in the school."

"Leave my hand," Harry ordered. But Hermione didn't.

"Harry, Hermione's right," Ginny said. "As much as you're justified with your reasons, you can't be the third party in a relationship and just patch it up. They need to work it out themselves."

"Ginny, you saw what Ron was like. He's been like that for days now. Remember yesterday morning? It was already driving me mad," Harry said, his voice steadily growing louder. "We've both known Hermione for years now. Do you honestly think she'll speak up for herself if she can avoid hurting anyone? And do you think Ron doesn't know that? And he's not taking advantage of it?" 

"But you can't say she isn't to blame for it!" Ginny burst out, but looked horrified as soon as the words escaped her. She brought her hand to her mouth. "I - I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that-"

"Mean it like what?" Hermione asked, frowning.

Harry glared at Ginny, but she continued reluctantly. "You can't say, Hermione, that you've not given Ron enough reason to be angry with you. Honestly, I'd be enraged too, if I found out that Harry was hiding something from me. Something that mattered to him."

"You think I don't trust him. Or you," Hermione said, realization dawning. Ron had already expressed his dissatisfaction. Ginny couldn't keep up her façade for long, which, anyway, Harry had probably asked her to do. Perhaps Harry felt it himself, deep down. 

When Ginny didn't reply, Hermione got her answer.

"I - I'm sorry, I need to be alone. I'll see you at lunch."

"Hermione-" Harry reached out, but she stopped him.

"I'll see you at lunch," she repeated firmly.

Her friends. Her friends, the closest people she had to a family, didn't think they could be sure of her allegiance. All that time together, all the hell they'd been through, all the sacrifices she'd made - at the end, nothing mattered. All it took was a few stupid secrets kept from them, and all of a sudden, she had been pushed away. They probably thought she didn't consider them her friends. That she didn't place her faith in them. If they thought so, they would think twice about placing theirs in her, too. Hermione groaned frustratedly, running a hand through her hair. She looked around and spotted a large tree. She punched and kicked it endlessly, feeling the need for an outlet for her disappointment, her anger. Somehow, she was never expected to show such humane emotions like sadness and rage. She was always supposed to be the pragmatic one, the one who had carefully controlled emotions, which, in the eyes of others, basically made her emotionless. She was not supposed to be influenced by such ordinary and human distractions. 

She didn't want to be near the Lake anymore. It reminded her of last night. She wanted to go somewhere quiet, somewhere where she wouldn't be troubled. Somewhere she could count on being empty. Not the classrooms, not the Gryffindor Common Room, not even the Astronomy Tower. There'd be students there. That left just one place. The Head Common Room.

Malfoy wouldn't be there. He rarely ever was. She could spend all the time she wanted there, and no one would be able to come in. Only she and Malfoy knew the password. No one would trouble her.

Her feet took her inside the castle faster than she had expected them to be capable of. Apparently, her subconscious was making them move quickly. In no time, she found herself standing in front of the portrait of the mermaids and speaking the password. Dumbledore.

The portrait swung open. She climbed inside, and her hopes of being alone were smashed. Malfoy was there on the sofa with his long legs on the table. He was reading. At least, he had been, before Hermione had entered. 

Instinctively, the first thing she noticed was the title of the book. Your Guide to Latest Inventions, Spells, and Discoveries - Edition of 1999. 

Wasn't that her book? 

Had she been stupid enough to leave anything of hers lying around here, with Malfoy being a regular visitor of the room? She didn't remember, and she had a strange feeling she wouldn't be able to right now. Her mind was not in the soundest of states.

Deciding to ignore Malfoy, Hermione determinedly moved towards the staircase that would take her to her room. Her breakdown was just a Muffliato away. 

Later, Hermione always thought that she wouldn't have stopped to look back towards Malfoy if he hadn't spoken precisely what he did.

"I hear you and Weasley haven't been particularly pretty together lately."

She froze. It took her a moment before she could reply. "For your own sake, Malfoy, I suggest you keep your big mouth shut today. I can't deal with you right now."

"Why? Too hung over the blood-traitor and rejection last night at the lake?"

Hermione froze all over again. "How do you know this?" she asked, turning around to meet his eyes. His cold, grey, manipulative eyes. 

"Oh, everyone's talking. So, of course, it's classified information."

She sighed and turned away again. "Just shut up. I can't fight your twisted mind. Not today."

"Though, I confess," he pulled his legs down from the table, stood up, and leaned against the wall, arms crossed, facing her. "A Mudblood and a blood traitor didn't quite make up the couple I'd expected. I'd thought he'd see the dirt in your blood. Blood traitors' blood, however, tends to get filthy too. I've seen plenty of it to know."

She whirled around, reached him in two large strides, and with her entire strength, raised her hand and flung it across his face - SMACK!

"I - said - not - today," she said dangerously, as Draco was pushed behind several steps by the impact. Hermione turned around and climbed up the stairs to the room without sparing him another glance. 

Draco heaved himself up and rubbed his stinging cheek where Hermione had struck.

"No messing with this Mudblood today," he muttered, as he sank back into the sofa.

***

Hermione opened the door to her room and flopped down on the bed. This was what she needed. She needed to be somewhere quiet.

Hermione thought about what she'd just done downstairs. She had no regrets over smacking Malfoy. If anything, he deserved it. She didn't need to justify it to herself. What she was thinking about was the fact that she'd hated Ron just a few moments ago, and still it was a snide comment about him and not herself that had provoked her. She thought if she would've done what she did if the comment was solely about her. She wouldn't have. She knew it. She would have snapped something back, maybe pointed her wand at him, but she wouldn't have done anything. It was undoubtedly Malfoy's 'blood traitor' remark that made her slap him. Because even though she hated Ron, she still couldn't hear a word against him.

She wondered if that was a thing to bother about.

Hermione's gaze suddenly fell to her hands. Her knuckles were bleeding severely from punching that tree. Apparently she'd went overboard with the venting. She healed them with an 'Episkey'.

Pulling her legs back and resting her head on her knees, she cried. She cried because her scar was getting out of hand. She cried because her research was not going anywhere. She cried because Ron had left her, and Ginny didn't trust her either, all at a time when she needed them. And she cried because she still couldn't hate them.

Once she felt dried of her tears, she lay motionless for sometime before getting out of bed. She'd told Harry she'd be there for lunch.

Descending downstairs, Hermione discovered that Malfoy was still there. In exactly the same position she'd found him when she'd entered. Suddenly, she felt like making something clear.

"Just because I helped you feel better that time when you were distressed over your father doesn't mean we're on okay terms," she said firmly. "I helped you because you were grieving, but you seem to be doing good now, so stay away from me because I hate you beyond what's humanly possible."

Draco didn't even look up from his book. "Feeling's decidedly mutual, Mudblood."

***