When the portrait door closed Hermione pulled out her wand and thought,  muffliato. It was empty in the dark common room but she didn't want to be interrupted as she fell to pieces. There was no one to pick up those pieces as they shattered from her broken heart, no one to hold her and stroke their fingers in her hair. No stormy grey eyes to stare into, searching for comfort. There was only the invisible string and it was choking her, strangling her as she tried to breathe. Her brain could not take any more, her breathing came in quick panting intakes of air, it felt thick like cloying mud being forced into her lungs. Her skin was clammy and cold, sweat trickled down her spine as she sat there, on the couch she loved so much breaking from the weight of it all. Occluding was not possible any longer so she took a sledgehammer to her inner walls, freeing all the emotions she had felt these past few weeks regarding her bond. The pain consumed her, eating up every inch of her skin like fire searching for fuel. She gave it more, letting the hurt and anger at Ron be tossed into the raging flames. She had lost him all over again, but this time who knew if he would come back? Her breathing intensified, she wondered if this was what it felt like to have a panic attack. Her limbs were all covered in pins and needles and her ears were ringing with the silence in the common room.  She would not recover. She would not come out of this without him. The waves were too big to wade through alone, she would drown here on this couch and she would feel relief when she did. She was thankful as the waves took her deeper into her mind where she was able to combust in peace. She curled into a ball on the couch and lay with her head in the spot Ron usually took, sobbing into the red cardigan she wore.