A/N: Okay, so here's the sequel to Broken. I hope you guys like it and it lives up to expectations. Please review, and fav or alert. That'll make my day and will probably result in an update very soon. Hermione's just gotten out of St. Mungo's and is staying with the Weasley's for Holiday's. So here it goes!

Chapter 1

They tell you you're getting better, that you're recovering, but you could always slip back, relapse into that sad existence. They say eat your meals, listen to your friends, and don't exercise. Ignore the voices in your head telling you that your self-worth is measured by how fat you're feeling that day. And no matter what, don't ever, ever weigh yourself. And if you're having a moment of weakness, you better talk about it with somebody.

They say that your friends will always be there for you, your family loves you, and you have tons of people who care about you. And that should be enough, but what if it's not? What if they leave you alone? What if you get into a fight? What if you just don't want to talk about it? Then what?

"Hermione?" Ron stands in the doorway of her room at Weasley Manor, "You ready for dinner?"

She'll never be ready for dinner. Even after undergoing treatment, she still dreads eating. She know she shouldn't. But she does, and it doesn't help that everyone has to make the meal so awkward. Maybe it's all in her head, her imagination gone wild. But she knows it's not. They all watch her to make sure she's swallowing every bite. They don't want her to trick them again. They couldn't stand to deal with a repeat of last fall. And she understands, she really does. But, now, she just wishes that they could trust her. She's tired of being treated like a criminal, ready for a jail break.

"Could we eat up here, Ron?" she asks, "Just the two of us? Please."

She asks him that every night, and at first he'd oblige. But lately it doesn't work so well, not with her mind healer spouting out that she's doing it out of shame, that it could encourage disordered eating. Which Hermione believes is absolutely ridiculous.

They say that she needs to have a sense of normalcy around food. But what's normal about having everyone monitoring you're every bite and making little "encouraging" comments when you reach for seconds. It's no tnormal. It's awkward, and she's tired of it. Especially since Mrs. Weasley is in one of her ultra-motherly moods today. She'll make sure Hermione has fourths, and that would be fine and dandy, except for the fact that then Hermione will get literally sick from being overstuffed with food. And then she'll wants to make herself go throw up just to feel less nauseous. But, of course, she won't do that. If she did and anyone found out they wouldn't listen to the excuses, they'd just send her straight back to St. Mungo's.

"Hermione," Ron says, unsure of her proposal, "It's just two more nights till we go back to Hogwarts."

"Exactly," she says, "It's perfect. We need a night for the two of us."

"Mum'll throw a fit."

"You can feed me, Ron" Hermione whispers, "I'll enjoy the food so much more if you feed me."

Ron blushes, and she enjoys his embarrassment, his discomfort. "I'm only teasing, Ron. Unless of course you'd want to."

He smiles, lightly, never completely comfortable when discussing food with her. And that's understandable, to a point. But it can be frustrating. Hermione prays for normalcy, but it seems that procuring it will be impossible. Even her attempts to flirt with him seem too much for him to handle. He treats her more like a child than ever before, as if with one wrong word he might break her.

"Hermione…" he stumbles, "You know what the mind healer's said about romance. We can't be more than friends."

She bows her head, struggling with the rejection. No matter, how many times he tells her this, it always hurts the same. And she always wonders if maybe it's all just an excuse so that she won't feel bad about herself, so that she won't relapse. "I know, sorry."

Her light-hearted mood has slipped, and she feels Ron's gaze on her. "You know it's not personal. I wish we could. I mean you know it I want to be with you. But we can't. It's not healthy. Not for a long time, till you're completely stable, and even then..."

Even then, I might not be good enough. The mind healer had said that Hermione's relationship with Ron had been unhealthy, a distinct trigger to her downfall. He claimed that she'd idolized him and relied too much solely on him and their relationship for emotional and mental stability. Hermione laughed at that.

Don't even consider the fact that I'd just witnessed one of the most disturbing battles in wizarding history, that I had more than any witches' fair share of near death experiences, or that I'd been tortured and cursed by Bellatrix Lestrange. No, she thinks, they'd rather blame it all on her break up with Ron.

"Whatever you say, Ron," she says, "We spent most of our lives as friends, and I have absolutely no problem with maintaining that sort of relationship with you."

"Good," he says, hesitantly. "And I guess we can eat up here, today, with Harry and Ginny, of course."

"Alright," she agrees because Harry's sideways glances, and Ginny's prodding will be an improvement to Mrs. Weasley's overly keen eyes and candid lectures about the necessity of proper nutrition.

So Ron steps out, anxiously heading off to let Mrs. Weasley in on the change of plans. Hermione can tell that he's nervous, and she does feel a little guilty about sending him off on the somewhat-suicidal mission. She knows Mrs. Weasley will have a fit, as she always does, and Ron will be forced to deal with the repercussions. But Hermione is just too selfish to deal with this by herself or to endure another Weasley family dinner.

"Mum's livid," Ginny enters the room, a few minutes later, "She's making Ron stay down for dinner, and is sending me and Harry up here instead. She's claiming that he's enabling you."

"I'm sorry," Hermione purses her lips, thoughts of guilt and self defeat conjuring up in her head. Keep the negative thoughts out. Keep them out.

"Don't be," Ginny laughs, "It's actually quite amusing, some good pre-dinner entertainment. And Harry's having a good laugh at Ron's expense; he thinks it's brilliant."

Hermione forces out a smile, "I'm sorry I missed it."

"Don't worry," Ginny smiles, "They'll be at it all through dinner by the looks of it."

Ginny takes another step into her room, holding two plates. One is piled to the brim, and is, as expected, for Hermione. "I couldn't remember if you'd like chicken or fish, so I got you both. Yeah right, you just wanted me to eat more than my fair share. Hermione mentally rolled her eyes, as she thanked Ginny and took the plate.

"So did you decide what classes you're going to drop yet?" Ginny gives Hermione a quizzical look. And Hermione mentally smacks herself for not knowing the answer. Ever since, McGonnagal wrote her last week to let her know that she felt it would be best if Hermione were to drop two courses and her duties as Head Girl to alleviate her 'stess', Hermione had been unable to make the decision. She'd made a mistake, and yes her coursework was not up to par last term, but now she was better and she could make it up. Was it really necessary to make her drop two whole courses, courses that at one point were her main source of happiness? Apparently, yes, because despite her begging, Hermione had found little sympathy from anyone else. Even her parents agreed that it was for her own good. And, she soon discovered, that it was in fact, Ron who'd come up with the idea.

"No," she says, "Maybe transfiguration, though. I absolutely abhor Professor Capri, and my attempts to turn into my amigus are useless.

"Really?" Ginny says, "But you're a dolphin. That's a lot better than everyone else's. I mean your amigus could actually be useful."

"I don't know, it's more of a nuisance, than anything. Plus, having to get in a swimsuit for transfiguration lessons every day isn't exactly great for my situation at the moment."

"Right," Ginny looked at the ground, "I hadn't actually thought of that before."

After an awkward meal with Ginny and Harry, Hermione goes to bed. She doesn't even talk to Ron, or head down to listen to Mrs. Weasley ramble on about she should have some desert. She's tired. And she's ready for the day to be over. But most of all, she's ready to curl up into a ball and cry, because this isn't how she'd planned things out. She's supposed to be with Ron, and he's supposed to love her no matter what. She's supposed to have everything under control. She's supposed to be Head Girl. She's supposed to have perfect grades. But here she is, with a whole lot of supposed to's and not a whole lot to show for it. But she'll try to forget about that, and try to focus on getting better. It's just a little hard when the whole reason she's trying to get better is forbidden territory.