Disclaimer: This story was inspired by the characters created by JKR as well as the song "How to Save a Life" by The Fray. I do not own either of these works of art.

Her hand hesitantly knocked on the door in front of her. The gray paint was chipping off in most places to reveal the worn wood beneath. The numbers on the door, 203, looked as if they had been collected, or in the case of the 0 removed, over the years. The 2 was a thick and sturdy steel, while the 0 was missing, but the paint that had been around it showed where it should have been and the 3 was small, gold plated tilted slightly to the right.

She waited for what felt like hours but was a mere moment before she heard a fumbling noise from inside. Her heart rate, which was already high, increased so that she felt that it might pop right out of her chest. Some more noises could be heard from the other side and then the slow unlocking of the door. It opened a crack and she could just make out the blue eye of someone she thought that she recognized. It was duller then what she had remembered. There was no cheerful twinkle remaining to show her that this was who she knew it was. 'How much he has changed' she thought to herself.

It had been over a year and a half since the fall of Voldemort, and the wizarding world was just starting to get back on their feet. Even with Kingsley in position of Minister of Magic it took people a while to begin to trust the Ministry at all. People could not easily forget the injustices done to them by the former regime it was getting better though, and only a few known death eaters still remained at large.

The door shut again and there was a rattling sound as the chain that had been holding it closed was removed. He had not so much as sighed when he saw who his visitor was. As if he had expected this and was resigned to his fate. She did not wait for him to fully open the door, once she saw it crack just a bit, she pushed her way through.

He stepped away, again as if he was expecting nothing else and moved over to the lopsided sofa on the left side of the room. "We need to talk!" She said in a soft voice. She could see him slightly shudder, the only reaction that she had gotten so far to her presence there. Then he smiled, it was a polite smile, one that did not reach his eyes. It felt as if a dagger had entered her heart when she saw that, and as she smiled at him she looked past who he was and tried to remember the boy that she knew, the boy that she had loved. He was not in this room.

Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life

The room was dark, and smelled of sweaty socks. There was a small window on the right hand side that let only a bit of the February sunshine into the dank apartment. She moved towards the window, absently looking out of it, wondering what she was going to say and why she was even here.

She finally looked away from the window and broke the silence that had been suffocating her. "So…how, how are you?" she finally stuttered out. She could not look him in the eye, what she saw there scared and saddened her too much. Maybe it was too late, and there was no saving him. Maybe he did not want to be saved.

He had been avoiding her gaze as well. She thought that her shock at his state probably showed on her face and was ashamed that she was not able to hide it from him. The tears were welling up behind her eyes, but that she could control more easily, and she would not let one fall. Finally he answered while picking at a nap on the couch.

"Fine."

After another moment of silence she realized that 'Fine' was all she was going to get. 'That's it, just "Fine"?' She was starting to get mad now. The sadness that had been enveloping her was beginning to be replaced with a slow seeping anger.

"So that's it? All I get is a 'Fine', I haven't seen you in over a year and a half, you disappear from all of your family and friends with no explanation and all you can give me is a 'fine'?" She balled her hands into fists and they were slowly beginning to shake with the anger that was now taking over. "Well that is BULLOCKS! I know you are not fine, I mean look at you. You are living in a rat infested dump, in a muggle neighborhood that no proper muggle would ever enter, and you expect me to believe that you are fine? Oh, no Ronald Weasley, I don't think so. You need to go home, your family needs you, and you obviously need them."

Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life

He just sat there and kept on picking at the nap on the couch. No sign that he had even heard her. She stamped her foot in frustration. His head lifted slightly and she thought that she saw a flicker of a smile in his eyes, but as soon as it was there it was gone again. "Now you listen to me Ron. This is unacceptable! I would have thought that you would know better than this. You used to be strong, what happened to you? Why did you abandon your family? Harry? M…Me?" The last word stuttered out and she felt her eyes burn from holding back the tears. She would not cry though. She couldn't let herself.

He looked up at her last words and his eyes, which just a moment before had been dead, filled with pain. She could see it as clearly as the bright red hair on his head. It shocked her to see and she had to look away.

"Abandon you? ABANDON YOU?" His face was getting red, as red as his hair. She took a step back from him, feeling the anger rolling off of him. "It was you Hermione, YOU," and he pointed his finger at her "that abandoned me. You left me to deal with all of our grief all alone."

Her voice was low, almost a whisper, "I had to go Ron. My parents, I needed to get my parents, make sure that they were safe."

"And once they were safe? Once you got there and saw that everything was okay? Fixed their memories? You didn't come back. What was I supposed to do then? Not a word from you, not even a line to say that you were there and safe. After everything, I was not even worthy of that."

She was thrown, she had sent letters "...but I did, I did write…" Her voice was high and pleading.

"Not to me you didn't, Harry got one, Ginny got one, even my mother and George got letters, but you did not write to ME!"

"I was hurt Ron and I didn't know what to say to you. You didn't come out of your room for a month. Even when I tried to say good-bye… I didn't matter to you anymore. You're the one who left, your body was there, but you weren't. I thought you needed time, so I gave it to you. Yes I went to Australia, but I came back. I was only gone for a few months. I owed my parents that time." She was wringing her bag; it was so twisted that it would probably never be able to function as a proper purse again. "When I came home you were gone. No word to anyone. I know that I might not have deserved anything, but your mum? Harry? What did they do to warrant that kind of treatment?"

He looked deflated. All the anger that had flowed out so freely had quickly evaporated and left him in a slump on the tatty worn out couch. He didn't speak. And Hermione began to wonder what he was thinking, or if he was thinking at all. Maybe he would realize? Or maybe he had just changed too much for it to ever be the same. 'Oh, why did I come?' She asked herself again.

Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life