(For those "Guest" reviews (which have been quite nasty btw), I am going to add that this was a prompt. I was given this idea by someone and I wrote what my mind came up with. All nasty guest reviews will be deleted. If you do not like the topic of this story, please hit the back button. As always: I don't own it! Enjoy!))

"Damn you Ronald Weasley!" Hermione shouted, stomping away.

"Come back here Hermione!" she heard him shout at her as she stomped way. When she didn't stop, she heard him take a great heave of breath, "Damn it Hermione! I said come back here right fucking now! We aren't done talking!"

It was another fight. Another argument about absolutely nothing. Thinking about it while she stormed away, she couldn't even remember what it was over. Nor what triggered it. It didn't matter what she said or did, he would scream at her.

"You're mental Hermione."

"Am I not good enough for you?"

"Would you lay off about my homework...Geez it's not fucking life or death!"

"What's so wrong with hanging out with your boyfriend for once?"

"Figures I would find you in the library…"

It was the same thing over and over. Nothing ever changed with Ron. There were times that he was quite the boyfriend, but then an ugly head would turn and he would change. Change right before her eyes. Thankfully, he never laid a hand on her, but Hermione knew it was only a matter of time.

Her feet carried her across the Quidditch Pitch and toward the Black Lake where she knew she could have a moment of peace. The overcast sky threatened rain which only increased her already foul mood. Sitting down on the large rock that overlooked the Lake, she pulled her legs toward her and wrapped her arms protectively around them.

Resting her head on her arms, she sighed and felt the inescapable tears that always fell when they argued. A light breeze wrapped around her and she shivered involuntarily. In her hurry, she left her jumper sitting in the stands. She had stopped by after studying to watch him practice but refused to take a ride on his broom with him.

Always afraid of heights, she was determined to never set her butt on a broom. Not since first year when it was a required class. And that was today's fight. All because she refused to ride with him. Even if Harry asked her, she would tell him no. But unlike Ron, he would respect her decision and let her be.

Hermione knew she was a smart girl. She prided herself on her intelligence but only when it came to books and spells. When it came to boys, she was woefully ignorant. She and Ron always fought, so it felt like this was the norm. At first, she could brush off his biting words, but the longer she knew him the worse he became. It got bad after Sirius died and especially worse after they began dating….if you can call two trips to Hogsmeade and a handful of snog sessions dating.

Before she could wallow any further, she felt the inevitable raindrops begin falling from the sky. Looking up, she sighed and closed her eyes. Lowering herself off the large rock, she wrapped her arms tightly around her and slowly walked back toward the looming castle that she had called home for the past six years.

By the time she arrived in the courtyard, the light sprinkling of rain had turned into a torrential downpour. Shivering as she stepped inside the castle, she pulled her wand out of her pocket and used a drying charm to dry her drenched clothes and hair. Unfortunately, it didn't warm her. She hadn't felt warm in a long time. She forced a smile to those that passed her. They were blissfully unaware of how her personal life was.

She was still Harry Potter's smart best friend. A title she didn't know if she liked. She was Hermione Granger, smartest witch of her age, in her own right. She couldn't simply be a girl in a relationship that she was beginning to hate. Did she hate Ron? No. But she was starting to hate their relationship. If she broke things off with him, would things ever go back to normal? Would they be able to repair their own platonic relationship?

She climbed the magical moving staircase that would lead her back to the Gryffindor Common Room, but she knew Ron would be there. If she stepped foot inside the Common Room, an argument would ensue and she wouldn't be able to just run off without making a scene. A scene she desperately didn't need. She didn't want the other students to know that ⅔ of the trio was having trouble.

It really wasn't any of their business.

It wasn't even Harry's business.

He might be her best friend, but there were some things she was afraid to tell him. Like how Ron constantly belittled her at every turn. He only did it when she wasn't on board with something he wanted to do or liked. She knew that Ron would never run to Harry and tell him what was going on other than that she was "mental" whenever they argued.

She never waited around to gauge Harry's reaction.

Stopping in front of the Fat Lady's portrait, she sighed and contemplated. "Are you going to come inside?" the Fat Lady asked, startling Hermione out of her thoughts.

"No, I am not." she replied and turned on her heel and walked back toward the moving staircase. Heading up toward the seventh floor, she knew a place she wouldn't be bothered at. Coming up the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy, she walked back and forth three times asking for a quiet place to think.

When the door magically appeared, she looked up and down the hall hoping no one saw her. Feeling like no one was around, she grabbed the large ornate handle and tugged on the door. Pulling it open, she stepped inside the room. The door vanished behind her. Looking around, her thinking place resembled the Common Room. Her tired feet carried her over to the couch and she nearly screamed seeing Harry sitting in front of the roaring fire.

Her mouth hanging open, she closed it quickly and started to back away. When she had successfully turned around, she wasn't paying attention to where she was going and bumped into a nearby table knocking off a candle. Freezing, as if she put herself in a full body bind, she waited to see if he knew she was there.

"Hermione….what are you doing here?" he asked softly.

"I-I-" she stammered, turning around to face him.

He was obviously alone and looked like he didn't want to be bothered. She could feel the heat of the fire and her body wanted to warm up. She wanted a place to think. Not a place to talk and share. Sitting on the floor, he had removed his glasses and was vacantly staring at her now. What had happened to him to be so morose?

Did she miss something?

"Hermione?" he asked again, putting his glasses back on to fully stare at her. "What happened?" he inquired, his voice stronger.

She sighed. Rubbing her hands over her crossed arms, she realized that he wouldn't stop badgering her until she talked. "Ron and I had another fight."

"Oh." he replied. "Are you OK?"

She shook her head, tears welling, "Not really, no."

He motioned for her to sit beside him. When she did, she leaned her body against his and sniffled when he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her even closer to him. Laying her head on his shoulder, neither of them spoke a word for several long minutes. She was thankful that Harry let her sob all over him.

She knew he was upset by something but right now, she was the one that needed someone. Someone who wouldn't judge her but be there for her. Someone who cared about her unequivocally. Harry would give his attention unselfishly, like he always did.

After several long minutes, she sighed and sniffed. Handing her a conjured handkerchief, she gave him a watery smile and took it. Cleaning her face, she sat it down in her lap and stared at it for a minute.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked, lifting her head to meet his eyes.

She nodded hesitantly, "Harry, what do you think about me and Ron?"

"As in dating or friends?" he asked, uncertaintitly lacing his voice.

"Dating."

Blowing out a gust of air, she watched as his long bangs fluttered in the wind and he became silent. Watching his face, she saw he was trying to figure out what to tell her delicately and not hurt her feelings. She didn't know if she wanted delicate or brutal.

Maybe she needed confirmation of what she already knew in her heart.

"Honestly Hermione, I think that you could do better than Ron." she raised an eyebrow at his proclamation. "Ron might be my best friend, but I know. I know Hermione."

"Yo-you know what?" she asked, fear lacing her voice. Did he know Ron truly was when no one was looking?

"I know he's an verbally abusive git to you." he confirmed her worst fear.

"How do you know?" she choked out, tears streaming down her face again.

"I hear the things he says to you and you don't have to settle with him. You don't have to keep taking his shit when he's in a foul mood and wants to take it out on you. I know that he's been an aresehole to you for years, but since you two started dating, he's gotten worse."

She couldn't say anything. Harry had just confirmed her worst fear. He knew about it all. How much he knew, she was afraid to ask. "Why didn't you say anything?"

This time, he sighed and shook his head. Looking toward the fire, he refused to meet her eyes. "I wanted too. I really did, but I was afraid that you would hex me. That you would tell me it wasn't any of my business and then we wouldn't be speaking to each other."

She could only nod at him. Looking toward the fire, she rested her head on his shoulder again and sighed. She would break things off with Ron. Harry was right. She didn't need to keep torturing herself trying to be the best for him when nothing satisfied Ron.

"Thank you Harry…."

"You're welcome Hermione."