She felt sick, watching him – healed and bloody gorgeous. It wasn’t fair. When was he going to decide he wanted to talk to her? He couldn’t just ignore her forever, could he? The thought was like a punch to the gut. Hermione could imagine it. Day after day, watching him; waiting for him to talk to her, but him never actually doing it. And then before she knew it, months would have gone by, and she’d walk into the lounge to find him snogging someone else, and she’d realise that "time to talk’ had actually been code for "it’s over, Hermione.’ Oh god, she felt ill.