Just felt like writing and this is what came out.



The clock flew into the wall, shattering into bits and pieces as it fell to the floor. Hermione groaned. It was 5:00 AM. Time for her morning run. She looked out the window; it looked chilly outside.

She changed into some spandex pants, a sports bra, and a tank top. She pulled a hooded sweatshirt over her tank top and grabbed her trainers. Once her shoes were secured on her sock covered feet, she grabbed a bright orange bottle from her nightstand and shoved it into her sweatshirt's pocket. She headed downstairs towards the entrance to Hogwarts. Halfway through passing the entrance to the Great Hall, Hermione stopped dead in her tracks.

A melodious laugh echoed in the hallway.

It was impossible; what was she doing up this early?

Hermione tried to convince her head not to look but her heart betrayed her. Hadn't it been torn to enough pieces? Her eyes roamed the hallway for the owner of that delicious laugh. Seconds later hazel eyes settled on the shapely figure of Ginevra Weasley laughing at something she was reading from The Quibbler in her hand while popping a blueberry in her mouth at the Gryffindor table.

Her own mouth went dry. Seeing the fiery temptress in such a state of joy nearly brought tears to her eyes. She stifled a sob, but the other woman's head whipped to her direction, all mirth gone from her face.

No, on Ginny Weasley's face was… regret?

Her heart fell to her gut and didn't resurface. She had to fight for a breath and leaned on a pillar to steady herself until her heart could begin beating normally again. Ginny's eyes never left her form.

It didn't.

She coughed to try and upstart her heart again. Nothing; that wretched thing remained still underneath her bosom. She pounded at it with a fist weakly. Still silence. She could feel herself getting dizzy. Her potion, where was her potion?!

Frantically, she jammed her hand into her right pocket. She couldn't inhale. Her heart still wasn't finding its natural rhythm within her chest. It had never lasted this long before…

Her fingers and lips were going blue from lack of oxygen. Her legs buckled underneath her. Her mind was going fuzzy.

No, Hermione! Fight it! Fight it please!

Finding her hand empty when she pulled it out, Hermione anxiously thrust her left hand into her other pocket. She felt her fingers grasp the familiar bottle she kept on her person for this occasion alone.

Pulling the stopper from the top of the bottle, she downed its contents without so much as a thought. Her back against the pillar, her legs folded awkwardly underneath her. She waited. The edges of her vision were darkening and she thought that she had been too late, that it finally had caught up with her. Until…

Thump, thump… ... Thump, thump…

Barely. But it was there and she knew she would be able to breathe again.

She sucked in a large gulp of air into her desperate lungs. This time she could feel it inside.

Thump, Thump. Thump, Thump. Thump, Thump.

The feeling to her fingers came back. Her legs still felt like jelly but she forced herself to stand. She didn't notice the red head next to her, looking at her fearfully.

"What the bloody hell just happened to you, Mione?! One minute you're walking by and the next you're practically suffocating!" A warm hand put itself gently on her covered shoulder.

Not again.

She shrugged the fake compassion away, along with the hand resting on her. Still her heart believed in it and began its irregular beating once again. She had to get away.

She let the anger flow through her, allowing herself this brief moment of emotion for the day.

"It's none of your business, Ginny!" Hermione snapped angrily, her hazel eyes smoldering in their rage.

The red head stepped back, surprised at the malice in the older witch's tone. She stood there, mouth open like a fish as her brain tried to think of something to say.

Hermione didn't need this today. No, in fact, what she needed was a run.

Ignoring her heart's frantic pumping to try and get her to change her mind, Hermione walked swiftly out the door and onto the grounds in the chilly air.

She kept walking quickly until she could see the Quidditch pitch in sight. Ah, relaxation.

She erased her mind of all thought and just ran. She ran, and ran, and ran. She was unreachable. She was a machine of diligence. She kept running. She ran until her feet ached. Until her mind was less foggy. Until her lungs begged her for a break. Her foggy mind drifted to the encounter in the hallway.

She would have to ask Madam Pomfrey for another potion. That meant more questions and more tests.

How did it start? Where were you? Who were you near? What were you thinking about when it happened? How long did it last?

All these questions had to be answered and catalogued so that she may try to find something to help her, something to cure her.

There was little study or knowledge on the affliction she had, though plenty had claimed it had been the death of them.

She had never believed it before she had learned she had it. Before…

ENOUGH! Her mind screamed at her anxious heart. Just the thought had put it pounding more wildly, bringing her to a stop to let it calm down. It was then that she noticed the pounding of feet that were not her own. Someone was behind her, and by the sounds of it struggling to keep up. She turned around.

"Mione!" Ginny said out of breath, her name coming out like a gasp instead of an exclamation. She slowed to a stop in front of the brunette and bent over to catch her breath. Hermione's heart started its odd thu, thu, thump… thu, thu, thump…

Oh, this dreaded heart. Why couldn't it just stop already and get it over with?

She scowled angrily, her previous anger coming back eagerly in waves. This was her time to ready herself for a day of pain. Who did Ginny think she was interrupting it?

"What do you want, Weasley?" She half shouted. Her arms were folded in front of her chest in a defensive manner. It was a habit she had formed after learning of her disease. She had once hoped that by doing this she could protect her heart from any future pain. Now, after accepting the inevitable reality of it all, the posture was more comforting than anything.

The red headed girl winced at her words. She then put on a brave face and looked into lifeless, angry hazel eyes.

"I want to know what's wrong with you! And yes it is my bloody business!"

If possible, Hermione's anger flared even higher. "And what in the world makes you think that after everything I owe you any explanation, Ginevra?" She said darkly, not raising her voice.

Angry hazel met astonished and ashamed sapphire.

The younger woman's head bowed slightly. "I… You don't. I was just curious."

The older woman laughed menacingly. "You were just curious? I'll ignore that outright lie and instead tell you. Hopefully you'll feel some actual remorse for the murder you committed."

The red head brought her head up, her facial expression one of doubt. She thought Hermione was joking now, didn't she? Well, she was in for a surprise.

"What do you mean, the murder I committed? I've never done more than a Bat-Bogey to anyone!" The red head exclaimed wildly, her arms flailing at the accusation.

Hermione just stood waiting. "Oh, you committed murder all right. You committed murder when you kissed me for the first time in the Room of Requirement, when you held my hand in hallways and kissed me on the cheek before classes. When you announced me to your friends as your girlfriend, you massacred. You committed murder when you made love to me for the first time and every time after that. You, Ginevra Molly Weasley, assassinated like a Hit Wizard when I caught your legs wrapped around Harry bloody Potter's waist."

She didn't let Ginny get a word in edgewise. She continued. "You killed me from the very moment I fell in love with you. You were a death sentence from the moment I laid eyes on you."

The woman to whom she was speaking scoffed.

"That's what this is about? You're mad because I cheated on you? That was months ago Mione. You have to get over it. If it makes you feel better you know I'm not with Harry anymore."

Hermione sighed. She didn't get it. Ginny didn't understand what she was trying to say. She had to try a different way, for she had precious months left and she didn't want to die wondering 'what if?'

"I'm not jealous Gin. I never was."

Her treacherous heart thumped wildly again at her name. After all this time the truth was going to come out.

Ginny stood looking perplexed and exasperated. "Then tell me how in the hell am I a sodding killer?!"

Hermione closed her eyes. This would be easier to say without seeing the emotions swirling in the blue orbs.

"I'm dying, Ginny." Her heart pounded hysterically at her ribs, begging to be rid of her. Begging to give itself physically over to the red head. As if giving the woman the rest of her self wasn't enough. Treacherous heart.

The gasp was all she heard.

"Wha'… How?"

This was the right question to ask. She opened her eyes. A smile came to her lips. It was a small one; a smile reserved for only the one who had put her in this position.

"You. Madam Pomfrey and the Healers at St. Mungo's diagnosed me at Christmas hols. It's my heart, Gin. You literally broke my heart."

It was so horrible to say aloud that all Hermione could do was laugh at the absurdness of it.

For her, Hermione Jean Granger, to die of something so illogical, was absurd.

Ginny looked at her as if she had grown a second head. "That's impossible. Even with magic, that's impossible."

The grin remained in place even though she stopped laughing. "Surely you've heard of Broken Heart Syndrome Ginny? Every little girl knows the myth. You fall in love with someone so perfect for your soul that if that person ends up leaving, your heart can no longer function on its own. It is literally broken away from its soulful counterpart and the outcome is always fatal. No one alive knows much about it since the last documented case was almost 700 years ago. There's less than 10 surviving texts on the subject, two of which are believed to be lost in the First Wizarding War and the ones that we do have are poorly written. But the point is that yes, you actually can break someone's heart."

While she struggled to keep her breathing regulated, Hermione drank in Ginny's features. Shock was prevalent. Sapphire orbs stood locked on her own hazel, unable to look away. She seemed unable to say anything at the moment. She continued in her greedy gaze.

Full pink lips were shaped in an 'O' shape, and Hermione could see a wet pink tongue behind straight white teeth. Gods, the nights she had doing battle with that tongue, with those legs wrapped around her, that voice throatily moaning her name…

Her heart almost fell again at the memory. At the tearing sensation that signified her heart ripping further away from her spiritual soul. She cursed under her breath as she staggered back a step.

Ginny snapped out of her shock and moved forward to grab the brunette. Hermione backed away as if burned. Her breathing was ragged.

"Please," she said imploringly. "Don't touch me." It would surely rip completely away from her if Ginny touched her. It would be death. Hermione didn't want to die.

The red head's outstretched arm was frozen midair, and she let it drop to her side awkwardly as Hermione fought to bring her raging heart to normal.

You blasted thing… Why can't you just act like you're not sick for once?

She finally gained loose control of herself. She had said her piece. Ginny now knew what her actions had caused. This was no normal teenage crush. She had killed Hermione with her betrayal and now Hermione was paying the price of true love.

She didn't need to stay. Didn't need to watch the pity flash across her beloved's features. She most certainly didn't need to hear the false words Ginny would undoubtedly say to her, the whispered words of 'Let me help you' and of 'I can try to fix it'.

She turned around and started walking away from that woman. That woman that, had she stayed, would have given her hope only to disappoint her once again.

She wouldn't get her hopes up. Healers from around the world had come to observe her and try their hand at curing her ailment. None had succeeded. She refused to hold a shred of hope that the person who had put her in this position in the first place would try to help her now.

"Mione!" The voice behind her said loudly. She stopped her stride but didn't turn around.

"How…" The red head paused, unable to speak. "How long…?" It seemed she couldn't get the horrid question out. No matter; Hermione knew what it was she was asking.

"They give me maybe two months."

And then without looking back, Hermione Granger walked calmly back to the castle and got ready for classes, though inside her heart kept beating wildly to one irregular drum.

Ginny… Ginny… Ginny…