Hermione stared furiously down at the letter in her hand.
She was shaking with anger and her breathing rapidly became uneven, sharp and quick, despite her best efforts to keep it under control. She pursed her lips together and ground her teeth to bite back the stream of curses that were fighting to burst through her teeth and roll off her tongue, ready to hex the nearest thing to her into next year. With a casual flip of the hand, a desperate attempt to convince herself that she didn't even care, she rolled the parchment into a ball and threw it viciously into the fire.
Without even noticing tears of fury were rolling down her cheeks and she sank down into the sofa and clutched a cushion to her chest, her knuckles turning white with the strength of her grip and she desperately tried to cease the choked sobs that escaped her lips.
She rested her face in her hands and from then on, made no attempt to try and prevent herself from crying. She felt as though she had been hit in the chest by a thousand stunners, the pressure pushing down on her ribcage made it almost impossible to breathe. Her brain had never, ever felt so useless. In times of great trouble it was normally her brain to rule over her heart .. she was conditioned that way, because it was safer. If she let herself be ruled by logic and common sense rather than her fickle heart and her irrational emotions, then she was less likely to get hurt.
It had always worked. Up until now. She should have known. She had been burnt by him and his indecisiveness before. Hermione had never felt more alone. She glanced around at the room, felt incredibly tiny, curled up in a ball on the sofa, sobbing into the upholstery and obsoletely no one there to offer kind words of comfort or reassurance.
Hermione hated being lonely. She reached over to the coffee table at her feet for a fresh piece of paper and grabbed a quill from the mantlepiece and began to converge her own letter.

Ginny,
Did you know about this? I don't suppose you could have done.
I cannot understand his actions. He's gone back to her. To Lavender .. after all this time.
Can you come over? I just don't know what to do anymore.
I know you're Ron's sister .. but please, you're my best friend. Please, just come?
Love,
Hermione.

The owl that had delivered Ron's letter was still grooming herself on the window sill and Hermione slipped three knuts into the pouch around it's leg and attached her letter oosely to the other and after a friendly peck at her finger tips, almost as though the beautiful speckled owl understood her heartache, which made Hermione smile briefly in spite of her current situation and watched as the owl glided silently into the starless night time sky.
She watched wistfully, and wished with all her might that she had the ability to just pick up and leave .. soar through the air to somewhere new, to new people, new experiences and a new life. But right now, she didn't have the strength and she collapsed back down onto the sofa, her whole body succumbing to sadness as she trembled, from the open window that blew in a harsh bitter wind that whipped across the bare arms, and from the shock of being abandoned.
It seemed like an eternity before her brain managed to let her sleep. Her limbs aching with exhaustion and her eyes stinging from the relentless flow of tears. Also wishing that with the ease that she waved her wand and banished stains from her favourite dress, she could banish the ache from her chest and her emotions entirely.