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A Secret Thought ... Hermione and Draco Chapters 1-8

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Chapter One - A Secret Thought

The train approached her and she couldn’t peel her eyes away from it. It was as if the train from hell itself was coming just to wait for all the willing people to climb aboard. It would then take them down to the very fiery pits of the one place that caused people to fear doing evil. It would bellow and chug along the tracks with smoke pounding from the engine. The grill would seem to sneer at her, smiling, laughing at the fact that she was one of the innocents caught up in the storm, unwillingly forced into it’s cool depths to wait patiently for fate to swallow her whole…
She swallowed and straightened her blouse. The train was supposed to be her savior. It was supposed to whisk her away to a magical world where all anyone did was laugh and smile. Where things could fly and hearts could soar. Where everyone put aside their usually differences and basked in the glory of their single similarity… the fact that they were not as different as it was made to seem and somewhere in the world, they were accepted.
She took a shaky breath. This year was different. This year she would not be accepted. This year she would not be welcomed and embraced with open arms. This year they would see themselves as being welcoming and accepting, but that was not what they were. On some sort of subconscious level where they knew her secret, they would shun her. The rest would be in denial and assume that would pass eventually and she would grow stronger for it.
As the train pulled to a stop, chugging, putting off an awful smell she hesitantly took a heavy step forward. She felt as if she were walking through cement, each step heavier than the last, weighing her down.
The single phrase, so well known and cherished, played soundlessly through her mind.

‘What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger.’

She took her first few cruel steps as she climbed onto the train. It was filled with students who smiled and laughed at her, greeting her cheerfully. She gave them weak smiles and answered politely to some of the more simple questions thrown her way. She lied to half of them, but it didn’t matter right now.
Right now all she needed was quiet.
She found an empty compartment quickly and shoved her things inside. She sat down on the bench, relishing in the feeling. She curled up into a tight ball and closed her eyes. Her head felt congested. She felt faint. She wished that someone would just take her in their arms and whisk her away to a better place. To a place where everything just didn’t hurt so much.
She was finally fading into a simple, calm oblivion of dreamless sleep when there was a rapt knocking at her door.
She leaned over and carefully slid the door open. Ron and Harry stood there, both tall and strong with messy heads of hair and sparkling eyes. Seeing their lop sided smiles she couldn’t help but grin pleasantly in return.

“Hermione! It’s been a bloody awful long time!” Ron exclaimed and wrapped her up in his arms, picking her up. She let out a small gasp at his strong hold on her but still enjoyed the feeling. He accepted her for what he thought she was, not who she is or could become.

“Well, you’re all grown up,” she giggled airily and ran her arms down his own firm, bulking ones. He blushed crimson and she regretted this simple action for it might have come off as flirting to the unsuspicious. She pulled out of his arms and felt the subtle regret in Ron’s body language as she turned to Harry.

“Harry… looks like the Dursley’s have been taking care of you after all,” she said and ran thin, trembling fingers through the bangs of her hair. Didn’t they see? Didn’t they notice how feeble and frail she looked? Was her act really so convincing the two most important people in the world did not notice?
Harry rolled his eyes and ran his hand through his thick, messy black hair that never grew any longer or seemed any shorter. It was a charming gesture, this simple act of combing his fingers through his hair. It was no wonder that Ginny had a crush on him. Hermione wished that she could have feelings for Ron or Harry. She wished that she could share her pain with them.
It would just be a burden on them and she’d never do that. She was better off alone. She was better off just plainly lonely.

“Hardly, Hermione. Though they were a bit better after Dumbledore’s whole letter to Petunia, I was still just the mangy mutt they were forced to feed table scraps and keep hidden when company came. Didn’t bother me, of course. Not like I wanted to be near the anorexic woman and her blimp family,” Harry snickered. Ron nodded seriously.

“I’m surprised Dudley hasn’t eaten his Aunt yet,’ Ron whispered. Hermione let out a sweet giggle. She did not know that she had something like that left in her. She took a deep breath and looked at them both sweetly. She watched as they laughed and joked. She watched as Harry punched Ron’s arm and Ron caught him in a headlock. She watched them do their boyish things and eat their food as if they had endless pits for sweets.
She hadn’t even noticed the train having started. She supposed that the train wasn’t going to hell, after all. One doing so would not be this peaceful.

“Oh look, it’s the mud blood, Potty, and the Weasel. Are we all having fun now? Harry how’s your scar?” Malfoy curled his fingers through the doors like long, thin claws. He looked at all of them and sneered, his platinum blonde eerily bright and well kept and his flawless skin pale in the fluorescent lights. His eyes, silver blue like the water on the night of a full moon, gleamed at all of them with a smugness that made Hermione sick to her stomach.

“Why don’t you run off and kiss Snape’s ass some more, you ugly little bleached ferret,” Harry snapped back. Malfoy shot a poisonous stare at Harry and even hissed. He was such a snake… a serpent… a slithering foul creature whose touch sent chills of disgust up your spine.

“Of course POTTER is the one to retort cause he just needs ALL the glory,” Malfoy snickered. “Weasel couldn’t even AFFORD a good comeback.” Malfoy’s cronies snickered like trained gorillas, making hiccupping chuckles.

“Malfoy, why is it that you’re just so loathsome? I’m sure your mother even finds it hard to love you,” Hermione said, trying to make her voice sound as strong as possible. He then looked in her direction. His eyes went up and down her and she grimaced at the feel of his eyes on her.

“Oh look, seems like the mud blood has finally become disgusted with HERSELF… she looks ill. What, the thought of being a mud blood finally make you nauseous? I know it has been making ME nauseous for AGES…”

“What are you talking about, Ferret?” Ron snapped at Malfoy irritably. Malfoy cocked an eyebrow at him.
Hermione was busy puzzling how it was that Malfoy noticed the subtle difference in the way she looked while both Ron and Harry seemed oblivious to it. She took a deep sigh and turned her attention back to the feud at hand.

“Look at Granger, you imbecile! She looks half dead! Ready to pass out! Oh, I forget, you possess as little brains as you do money,” Malfoy snickered. Hermione closed her eyes. This was her seventh year. Why couldn’t Malfoy just shut up? Why couldn’t she have one year of peace without him snickering and commenting on every little thing? The year would be splendid without him… or as splendid as possible considering.
After his father was released from Azkaban nearing the end of last school year, he had been particularly smug. It seemed now his head had triple in size with his own ego.

“Hermione… are you alright?” Harry asked quietly. Hermione gives him a half smile and sighed.

“Of course I am, Harry, I just think I’ve become a bit nauseous with Malfoy standing so close… the stench of his bull is almost dizzying…” she fanned a hand in front of her face and fluttered her eyelids, pretending to almost faint. Ron and Harry laughed at her cover/joke. She looked at Malfoy daringly with her eyes.
Instead, the blonde haired serpent just stared at her suspiciously for an extra long moment. He then focused on all three of them and stopped singling her out. He fished in his pocket for something, his smug attitude slowly inflating his blimp head.

“I just came to warn you three to watch your step this year… because I have all high authority. I’m head boy this year, and what I say goes. That means one toe out of line and I’ll have you out of Hogwarts so fast the papers won’t even be able to print it in their PRECIOUS papers that their PRECIOUS Potter and company have been expelled before they’re already gone,” he snickered triumphantly and flashed a letter and Head Boy badge. Ron and Harry rolled their eyes as Malfoy left, snickering triumphantly.

“That’s just perfect. This is going to be a hell of a year.”

“I can’t believe Malfoy is Head Boy… this is unacceptable…” she whispered.

“We all knew it was coming, Hermione. I mean, god, Snape is practically IN LOVE with the boy…” Harry tried to comfort her.

“It’s not that, Harry,” she murmured and began digging through her things.

“Then what is it? What’s wrong? Are you feeling queasy?” Ron asked urgently, desperate to make up for not noticing how she was acting earlier.

“I was feeling fine until just a moment ago,” she mumbled the lie quickly. She found what she was looking for and held it up with her trembling fingers, the pride long ago extinguished and now regret and sorrow filled her heart.

“Oh no…”


“I’m so sorry…”


“Head Girl,” she answered sadly and stared at the shining badge, and all of a sudden she had the urge to chuck it at the slithering ferret’s inflated head.

Last edited by Mrs.KreszentiaBlack on Thu Nov 04, 2010 10:03 pm; edited 1 time in total


Angelic Abbadon

WOOT! hooray for admin writing! no sarcasm intended =) hope ill be able to write someday though.

Cloudless night
The moon invades the erie air
Silence all around us

My lover's hand
My goddess' Eyes
My brown eyed guardian

I give her my all
My wings
My breath
My life

For her i would die
for her i now am i alive
Drinking the wine of our love
I will never fall
"Azrael... "I love you", I whisper to your ear.


((i'm sure you will be able to...And I am about ot Post chapter 2 (YAY))



Chapter 2 - the Meeting

Hermione did not want to go to the Prefect compartment. Though Ron would be joining her, it would not be the same. She would be in command. He would not be able to speak to her, to whisper comforting or assuring things in her ear, and most of all Malfoy (the foul scum) would be at her side in Ron’s place. This was supposed to be her most glorious year. Ron a prefect, Hermione Head Girl, and Harry captain of the Quidditch team (as appointed the year before), they were all supposed to laugh and further procrastinate their thinking of Voldemort. His threat had been growing at a rapid pace, but Hermione did not like to think about that. She liked to think about things that made her smile, seeing as there was so little that did so during these depressing days.

“Hermione, shouldn’t we be going?” Ron asked and furrowed his eyebrows. Hermione took a deep breath and a soft moan escaped her lips. Neither Harry nor Ron knew why, but it was hard to notice the minor twitch of pain in her right eye.

“Hermione, are you sure you’re feeling alright?” Harry asked quizzically.

“Yes, I mean I had to remind YOU of our responsibilities,” Ron observed dramatically. Hermione gave them a tiresome smile, trying her best to be discrete.

“I’m fine, boys. I was just going over the textbooks that I bought in Diagon Alley in my mind. Can’t be too prepared, now can we?” she asked with a quiet smirk. Harry laughed.

“Yep, she’s feeling alright. Now you two run off and be good students. I suppose I should start going around and speaking with the Quidditch team… Ron you remember what we talked about?” Harry asked. Ron nodded eagerly. He looked at Hermione with a cock-eye smile.

“Hermione you should see me play! I’ve gotten twice as good as I was from last year!” he gloated. Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Ron, we already made it clear to you last year that you ARE a good Keeper and you ARE better than Oliver Wood used to be. After you won that final match in our fifth year you’ve been an INCREDIBLE Quidditch player, and I don’t even care for the sport. Now can we PLEASE go?” she asked impatiently, wanting to quickly get the meeting over with.
Ron looked at her and chuckled; obviously proud of himself and the way he had excelled so quickly in the sport after he had gotten over how nervous he was in front of crowds. Harry rolled his eyes and waved goodbye, separating from his two friends for the rest of the train ride.

They walked briskly to the compartment. Stepping inside quietly, Hermione shut the door and sighed. She smiled brightly at Ginny who was looking rather bored and lonely. She brightened the moment she saw Hermione’s face.

“What took you so long? I thought you’d come immediately here! I’ve been waiting forever!” Ginny said in exasperation as she threw her arms around Hermione’s neck tightly. Hermione embraced the girl though she did not find the hug as satisfying as she had Ron’s. it had something to do with the tight hold and the comfort between her and Ron that made things different. She and Ginny could hug, but it was always just a little awkward. They weren’t as good of friends as she and Ron were.

“How was your summer?” Hermione asked lightly. Ginny looked at Hermione and shrugged while pulling away from their embrace.

“It was alright. Fred and George kept on sending us anonymous packages or ones from false identities. Soon we had to stand about ten feet away to open any mail so as we did turn orange or all of a sudden sprout a beak or something,” Ginny laughed. Hermione smiled, remembering several packages she had received from the twins.
She was filled with a cold sadness when she remembered how she never even got a chance to open them.

“So how was your summer?” Ginny asked Hermione. She was quiet for a moment.

“It was fun,” she said simply. Ginny rolled her eyes. She was so open about what she thought and how she felt. She was upfront and stubborn, beautiful with her straight red hair and bright smile. She was glowing with spirit and a light heart… Hermione never wished more to be like Ginny.

“Hermione, don’t be so vague! I need details!” She pulled her friend down on the seat, next to Cho Chang, who was also a prefect. The girls did not greet each other. The two had never been on very good terms.

“Well,” Hermione started. Lies and stories filled her mind quickly, flooding and taking over. She did not even consider telling Ginny the truth. “I read, and that took up most of my time. I had to explain a billion things to Mum and Dad about the Wizarding World. Crookshanks got fleas, the poor thing,” Hermione said quietly. She remembered Crookshanks, snoozing quietly in his cage, and she reminded herself quietly to let him out to stretch his legs when she got the chance.
Ginny gave Hermione a pitying smile.

“And I thought I had a dull summer,” Ginny said seriously. Hermione shrugged and gave her a quiet smile.

‘If you only knew.’

“Ginny got herself a boyfriend,” Ron said and eased himself down in the seat across from them. Hermione looked him up and down briefly and secretively. He was such a handsome boy who wore his heart on his sleeve.
She tried to stir up the cinders. She tried to make some sort of warmth blossom in her chest or her stomach. She would have even been content with her an unexplained warmth in her feet when she looked at him.
Ron looked down in embarrassment when Hermione realized she was staring at her best friend. She looked away, her expression impassive. She then cracked a smile at her.

“Oh really? What’s his name?” she asked. Ginny sighed.

“His name is Billy Harris. I wanted to tell you but obviously Ron couldn’t wait to break the news,” Ginny said in frustration.

“Yea, well I don’t like him!” Ron snapped stubbornly. Hermione laughed at how protective the redheaded boy was.

“You don’t like him because he’s a muggle!” Ginny snapped back with a familiar stubborn fire in her eyes. Hermione was taken back.

“You’re dating a muggle?” she asked quietly. Ginny nodded with a smile on his face.

“Yea. It was the strangest thing, too. I was out for a walk and he was completely lost. I couldn’t help but invite him home to meet my family…”

“He knows about magic?” Hermione gasped. Ginny giggled as her eyes sparkled magically. Hermione was in awe at the girl’s feelings for her boyfriend.

“Yes. Oh, don’t worry. He knew all about magic when I met him. You see when we met it was more of he almost ran into my on his bicycle, and he swerved out of the way. I fell backwards and my wand fell out of my pocket. That’s how we started talking… his brother is a wizard,” she said quickly. Hermione nodded, understanding a little more.

“Well… is he cute?” Hermione asked. She wasn’t all about studying and books and learning. She did care about the same things as other girls did, including how handsome a boy was. Ginny gasped and her eyes rolled up in her head as she bit her lip.

“He is BEYOND cute. He is ADORABLE. He is HOT. He is the definition of GOOD-LOOKING,” she said overdramatically. Hermione laughed. That was Ginny. She always had a flare for the dramatic.

“How old is he?” Hermione asked.

“Sixteen, just like me,” she said with a small smile. Hermione couldn’t help but be proud of Ginny. She was thankful Ginny had gotten over her crush on Harry in their third year. It would have been quite awkward if she were still in love with him while he was not exactly interested in a relationship at the moment.
Hermione sighed sadly. Harry was going through so much. After Sirius’ death he had never quite been the same. He tried, but his heart had just become so cold and hard. It was as if nothing could penetrate it. She pitied Harry.

“I’m so happy for you,” Hermione said sweetly.

Ginny noticed as Hermione’s face had such a subtle cringe it was nearly unnoticeable. It seemed that Hermione was in pain but she did not want anyone to see. So Ginny said nothing and gave Hermione a thankful smile to her comment and was quiet. Hermione leaned back and closed her eyes, seemingly enjoying the lack of conversation.

“Well, now that you’re all here, let us begin,” Professor McGonagall said the moment after Malfoy entered the compartment. He had obviously been showing off his Head Boy privileges to anyone who would listen.
Hermione did not hear the things she said. She did not hear about the schedules. She kept her eyes squeezed tightly shut. She could practically feel the color draining from her face. The light hurt. She took the paper without even looking at it, holding it in her trembling fingers.

She felt someone shaking her arm. She refused to accept the fact that she had to open her eyes. She refused the fact that she had to wake up. She refused to listen to the orders of others. She just wanted to curl up and sleep for the rest of the day. She just wanted to ignore her responsibilities for once and just do what she wished.

“Miss Granger?” Professor McGonagall asked gently. Hermione pried open her eyes and stared at the Professor. She closed her eyes momentarily for a moment and regretfully opened them again. Draco Malfoy stood in the corner, looking like a stone, not a hint of feeling or any sort of compassion on his featured face.

“I’m sorry, Professor,” she said quietly and strained to stand. McGonagall placed a hand on her shoulder and firmly made her resume her seat.

“Miss Granger, is it…”

“Professor, I’m absolutely fine,” Hermione said and waved her hand as if the matter were nothing. She wanted to tell the Professor she was not alright but she wanted everyone to leave her alone. That wasn’t going to happen. That was as likely as her lie being the truth. For her to be completely isolated was going to be as likely as her being completely all right.
McGonagall shook her head, disbelieving her lies.

“If you want I can speak with Professor Dumbledore and excuse you to your quarters for the evening… with your condition I’m sure that would be no problem,” she said gently. Hermione stubbornly stood up.

“I told you I’m fine! Please, Professor, stop treating me as if I’m just some piece of china!” Hermione said and rushed from the compartment.

“Miss Granger!” McGonagall called after her in worry. “Please, come back her for a moment,” she said sternly. Hermione hesitated for a moment and then sighed, her shoulders slumped in defeat. She turned and walked back to the Professor. Her legs felt wobbly and she could feel clammy sweat on her forehead.

“Yes?” she asked. Professor McGonagall sighed.

“This evening, you and Mr. Malfoy will supervise the Prefects and make sure that everyone is situated. Then you will return to your quarters. The password into the common room is charlatan…”

“That’s a peculiar password,” Hermione thought out loud. McGonagall shrugged.

“What does charlatan mean?” Draco asked, a blush in his pale face at not knowing this. Hermione turned to him.

“I figured you should know. You are the definition of one,” Hermione shot at him. She then blushed and looked at the ground. “Sorry, Professor,” she mumbled. The woman looked at Hermione disapprovingly and pursed her lips.

“Mr. Malfoy, charlatan means someone who boasts lies, is a poser, and other things,” McGonagall said simply. He opened his mouth to snap back at Hermione but McGonagall shot him a warning glare and he shut his mouth quickly.

“I was hoping the two of you would put aside your petty differences for at least this one year, considering your living accommodations. For this little outbreak, Miss Granger, is has proven that my hopes proved pointless. The two of you are now going to be under watch. If your grades slip, you appear disheveled in the morning,” her eyes flickered momentarily to Hermione, “or if any one of the staff notice anything other than civil behavior towards one another, you will both be reprieved of your duties entirely. You will not even be a prefect,” McGonagall said simply. Malfoy seemed utterly displeased at the thought but said nothing of it. The Professor sighed. “You can now return to your compartments.”
Hermione turned and left quickly and quietly. She meant to run away from the two of them as fast as possible. She would cuddle with Crookshanks and whisper all of her troubles into his ear. He would purr affectionately and not judge her at all, and then nuzzle her face before falling asleep in her arms.
She craved this acceptance and affection so much she was almost sprinting to her compartment.
When she reached there, she noticed that she was alone. Ron had gone off in search of Harry and Ginny would be with her friends.

She closed the compartment door quietly, standing up straight with a solid expression for anyone who was watching. It closed with a click and she turned, taking a single shaky breath.
She threw herself down on the bench and began to cry.


Angelic Abbadon

woot =))) i tried writing on buzznet n it failed haha

Cloudless night
The moon invades the erie air
Silence all around us

My lover's hand
My goddess' Eyes
My brown eyed guardian

I give her my all
My wings
My breath
My life

For her i would die
for her i now am i alive
Drinking the wine of our love
I will never fall
"Azrael... "I love you", I whisper to your ear.


Chapter 3 - Civil

The rest of the night was like a blur. She could barely remember climbing off the train. She didn’t hear anything said at dinner. She didn’t notice who was sorted into what houses. She grasped the Head Girl badge tightly in her fingers, running her firm skin against the shiny smooth metal.
Everyone was dismissed. They all headed in a wave back to their common rooms. Hermione lingered and looked about her, taking in the last of the incredible smells from dinner. With a deep sigh she began to walk heavy-footed towards the Great Hall doors.
She avoided Malfoy as much as possible. His full-moon-on-water eyes were challenging everyone’s opinion and authority they thought they had. Hermione watched helplessly as he unjustly took away ten points from a Gryffindor student.
Hermione wanted to help, but she couldn’t. This evening she just didn’t have the energy. Tomorrow she would be fine. It was just the way things worked. She tugged on a handful of hair and closed her eyes quietly, wishing all of it to go away. She knew she was not fulfilling her responsibilities but at the moment she did not care. She just wanted to go to bed and sleep it all away.

“Granger?” a rather cool voice said. Just hearing his voice felt like a melting ice cube was sliding down her back. She pried her eyes open and saw Malfoy standing there, looking smug. He seemed to be hiding something beneath those cold eyes. Something that felt just the tiniest bit warm.

“What, Malfoy?” she asked as she tried to keep the bitterness and the revulsion to a minimum, heading McGonagall warning. At the moment she just felt like beating the living day lights out of the boy so she wouldn’t have to deal with the responsibility of Head Girl or share a common room with the creature. She knew she would regret giving it up the next morning, so she clenched her fists at her sides and watched him warily.

“We need to go to our dormitories,” he growled. She could see the physical strain he was under while refraining from calling her mud blood and insulting her in any other way. She couldn’t help but feel a bit better at the thought of his being civil to her.
She simply nodded and stood, straightening her pleaded skirt and brushing out the wrinkles from her blouse. She smoothed down her bushy hair and straightened up.

“What are you doing?” Malfoy asked critically as his eyes looked her up and down. Hermione grimaced at the thought of his eyes on her.

“I’m making myself presentable,” she said in a matter-of-fact tone. Malfoy rolled his eyes and did not ask whom she was making herself presentable for. Instead, consciously or subconsciously, he also smoothed down his hair and straightened his robes very subtly. Of course Hermione noticed. She just had a tendency to notice little things like that.

“Do you remember the password?” he asked. She nodded.

“Charlatan,” she said simply as they slowly approached it. The two of them knew exactly where the Head Boy/Girl dormitories were. They had both been striving for this position for their past six years at school. Of course they were going to approach the entrance and look at it longingly, fantasizing about the day they were given the privilege to step through the portrait.

“I am not a charlatan,” he murmured under his breath and kicked at the floor, leaving a black scuff mark. Hermione watched him, noticing the strain in his face and how he continued to mumble things under his breath. Being in her presence and holding his tongue was proving to be quite strenuous on the boy.
She held her tongue and also said nothing as they approached the portrait.
It was of a very refined man. Hermione had never introduced herself and thought it appropriate. He looked like a middle-aged man with an elegant nose and a very muscular figure. It was of his chest up and he had hair swept back, much resembling Draco’s despite the fact that his was a brown color. He had warm brown eyes and a bright smile. Hermione liked the man instantly.

“Hello, sir, my name is Hermione Granger,” she introduced herself with a kind smile. He looked at her and grinned appropriately.

“Hello, Miss Granger. My name is Sir Paul Bentley,” he said as he craned his head in a modest boy. Malfoy sneered at the portrait and snapped his name. Sir Bentley looked rather coldly at the boy and squinted. Malfoy hissed the password and he climbed inside quickly, disappearing into the dark. Sir Bentley closed and then looked at Hermione cautiously.

“Are you going to be alright in there with THAT boy?” he asked, obviously not particularly caring for Malfoy. Hermione smiled at the fact that the portrait cared to ask and felt her warming up to the man forever trapped in pictures. She thought he must be dreadfully lonely. She would befriend him and at least they would have company while being lonesome.

“I’ll be fine, Sir Bentley. Good night,” she said and then whispered the password as she climbed through the portrait hole. She fumbled through the dark entrance momentarily before she came into a brightly lit common room. She smiled, for it was everything she had always imagined.
Lush couches and armchairs surrounded the comfort of a large, warming fire. There were no colors representing either Slytherin or Gryffindor and Hermione was thankful for it. She did not need to be competing with Malfoy as to who showed the most House Spirit. She knew that Malfoy would have gotten ridiculous and gone all out, leaving her standing in the dust.
She walked in and sat down on the couch, staring into the fire. With a sigh she decided that it was comforting here and she didn’t feel the need to go to the Gryffindor tower very often… if ever. She enjoyed the privacy. She enjoyed being alone.
Malfoy stalked out, his air as smug as ever.

“Well we get out own bathrooms… thank god,” he said. Hermione shot him a warning glare and he rolled his eyes. “I mean because you’re a GIRL, not because you’re… something else. Girls are ALWAYS in the bathroom and they always have so much stuff to muddy up the counters,” he sighed and plopped down in the armchair. He looked her up and down.

“What are you looking at?” Hermione asked icily but quietly, neither yelling nor whispering. Malfoy leaned in and furrowed his eyebrows. The fire danced incredibly in his silver blue eyes and the shadows cast on his skin were haunting and mysterious. Hermione almost saw depth in the boy, but she was over that misconception quite quickly.

“I was looking at you, Granger. What exactly is wrong with you?” he asked, eyeing her suspiciously. Hermione felt the hairs on her arms and the back of her neck stand up on end. Why was he so relentless? Couldn’t he just let her live her days in peace?

“Your constant interrogation is what is wrong with me,” she said to him coolly and adverted her eyes. He rolled his eyes and threw up his hands.

“Here I am trying to be civil to you and you’re just being a god awful b…”

“Draco Malfoy, are you positive you want to finish that sentence?” Hermione dared him with her eyes. He bit his lip and then made an angry sort of cry and stomped his foot before turning around quickly and rushing into his bedroom, slamming the door like an immature brat.

Hermione rolled her eyes at the boy’s temper. She hadn’t done a single thing wrong. He shouldn’t blame her for not wanting to be his friend and spill every one of her dark secrets to him after all the years of torture he put her through.
She walked to her dormitory and found all of her things resting at the end of her bed. Slowly, she began to unpack. Carefully she set down her spare robes, her textbooks, and other things. She closed her eyes and sighed. She couldn’t wait for sleep to overcome her, but for some reason she couldn’t help but feel guilty for the way she treated Malfoy.
Guilty? Why should she feel guilty about treating him the way he deserved to be treated? She was just being silly.
Yet she knew that she could not be able to sleep peacefully until she apologized to him. It was already awkward enough without her adding to it.
So she quietly set down her things and headed out of her room. She walked across the Common Room quietly and to the door. She took a shaky breath and knocked on the door. She instantly regretted it, realizing she had no idea what to say.

The door cracked open just slightly.

“What?” he asked in the same cold and relentlessly repulsed manner she had spoken to him in.

“I wanted to apologize for the way I’ve acted. I’ve just had a rough week,” she said quietly. The door opened the rest of the way and he stood there, studying her face with her eyes.
Hermione noticed something was off about Draco the moment that he stepped out of the door. At first she couldn’t see what until her eyes traveled downward…
He was wearing nothing but a baggy pair of pants that hung low on his hips. He had been preparing for bed when she interrupted him.
She pried her eyes away from his bare (and oh so adorable and sexy and hot) chest and glued her eyes to his own. It took all of her might not to stare at him and take note of every curve of his muscles and the precise skin tone of his delicious looking skin…
Hermione growled deep in her throat. These were the most embarrassing things she had ever thought. She had to admit that Malfoy did have good looks. Then again, if looks were based on personality, a Mountain Troll would be sexier than this… slithering… disgusting… evil… ferret.

“I just wanted to know what was wrong.” He looked her up and down again. “Granger you look like hell. Go to the nurse and get some medication or something,” he replied heavily and shut the door in her face.
She withdrew and slowly trudged back to her room to continue to unpack. She pulled out a small bag and opened it carefully.

She quietly pulled out a bottle of medication, rattling with pills inside. She took a deep breath.

“If only you knew,” she said quietly and set the pills down on her nightstand, before drawing another bottle from her bag. Then another… and another… and another… and another.

She lay down on her bed and curled up, falling into a peaceful and dreamless sleep, still wearing clothes from the afternoon.
She was right when she first stepped on the train that morning.

Hogwarts was hell.



Chapter 4 - Breakfast

Hermione slammed her hand down on her alarm clock the next morning, a small smile on her face. She felt so lively that morning. She was going to have a good day. She loved her good days… they were just… great.
She stood and stripped out of her outfit quietly and headed for the bathroom. After a quick and exhilarating shower she went to the counter where she had set all of her things. She looked sadly at all of her medication. She’d put that off until later. She couldn’t have them until after she ate anyways. She’d have to do it secretly. She didn’t want anyone to notice the fact that she was on any sort of medication.
She wanted everyone to just think and accept that she was all right.

She pulled a single pill out of each of the five small bottles and set them in a plastic cup. She brushed her teeth and combed her hair. Sighing, she looked in the mirror. She looked decent this morning. She knew that she would be getting a letter from her parents, checking in on her.

She held the small cup and left the bathroom. What was she supposed to do with it? Looking around helplessly, she found a piece of paper. She used a rubber band and closed it over the mouth of the cup and smiled, slipping it into her pocket.
She walked into the common room and saw Malfoy lying lazily on the couch, still in just those baggy pants, flipping through the Daily Prophet as if he had not a care in the world.

“You’ve already been to breakfast?” she asked curiously. He nodded, not looking up from the paper. He noticed that the breakfast on the coffee table was untouched. She stood and started walking towards the door.

“Granger,” he said gruffly. She turned around and looked at him. “This is yours,” he motioned towards the plate of food. “Peace offering,” he said simply. She looked at him suspicious, but the breakfast just looked so tempting she couldn’t resist. Hesitantly at first, she walked towards the table. She sat at the couch and quietly began to eat. It was still hot.
She wondered if he poisoned it. She hoped not. She couldn’t stop eating. After not having an appetite the night before she was ravenous this morning.

“You seem to be feeling better,” Draco, said, still not looking up from the paper. He lazily turned the page. Hermione felt her eyes flicker over his body and then looked away in disgust. Not at the way he looked. She felt disgust at herself for even looking.

“Yes. I think I just had a cold,” she lied as if it were the easiest thing to do. She took another bite of toast with blackberry jam spread on it perfectly. She closed her eyes and savored the flavor.

“That’s good,” he said simply. She noticed how distant their conversation was. They were both trying desperately hard to get along. Just in the Common Room at least. Outside they would simply ignore each other’s existence. Here they could at least carry out a distant civil conversation of simple small talk.

She finished her breakfast quietly. She took out the cupful of pills and poured them into her mouth. She took a big swallow of water and grimaced at the bitter aftertaste.

“What are those pills for?” Malfoy asked, his eyes flickering towards her as he set down the paper. Hermione went pale. He had been so quiet that she had completely forgotten he was there.

“They’re just vitamins. Calcium and Vitamin A and Protein… one for my complexion and another to help manage my weight,” she said. Malfoy laughed at the last one.

“Granger, trust me, you’re thin. You don’t have to worry about getting fat,” he rolled his eyes and stood up, walking over to his bedroom. She stared at his back. It was strong, with thick shoulder blades and tight skin around his ribs. She could barely see his spine through his skin. His shoulders were wide and proud.
There was a long, thick pink scar that sliced the perfection of his back, diagonal from the top of his right shoulder blade to the bottom of his left.
Hermione was silent and looked away, playing with the small plastic cup in her hands. Guilt filled her. There was more to Malfoy than she gave him credit for. He was just so vile! Why couldn’t he develop people skills and actually be nice to her? That would make her year so much easier.
Then again that was exactly what he was doing. He was being nice to her. He had brought her breakfast, hadn’t he? Maybe it had something to do with the fact that she had seemed sick the night before.
She was sitting on the couch quietly, staring at the cup in her fingertips.

“What are you waiting for?” Malfoy asked simply as he walked out, fully dressed. She looked him up and down and gave him a bright smile.

“Oh, nothing. I was just thinking about what today was going to be like,” she said. Malfoy shrugged.

“I could care less. You think too much, Granger.”

‘Not anymore…’

“Hmm,” she just mumbled quietly. She felt something rub up against her leg. Crookshanks purred and hopped up on her lap. She gave him a tight squeeze and buried her face in the cat’s orange fur. It was a very pleasant feeling and she was filled once again with warmth and comfort.

“That’s one ugly cat, Granger,” Malfoy said and pocketed his wand carefully. Hermione glared at him.

“I think he’s adorable,” she mumbled and kissed the top of the feline’s head. Malfoy snickered.

“If you think THAT thing is adorable you must compare me to a Mountain Troll,” he said with humor in his eyes. Hermione couldn’t help but giggle. Not at the thought of comparing Malfoy to a Troll, but because the night before she HAD compared him to a troll.
The irony made her laugh.

Malfoy looked at her for a moment oddly. She withdrew and cowered at the authority in his gaze. She had never backed down from him before, but this morning there was something different.

“What’s that?” he asked and pointed to the back of her head. Her hands went up there and she rubbed the back of her neck. She grimaced when she felt the thick welt there and each individual stitch.

“It’s nothing of your concern!” she snapped and tossed Crookshanks aside before rushing out of the room without a single look back at the confused and handsome boy.



Chapter 5 - Logical

It was lunchtime. She really wasn’t very hungry. The breakfast would tie her over until dinner.
She regretted shouting at Malfoy. Things had finally become civil between the two. Then she had to go and ruin it just because she couldn’t keep her temper. She deeply sighed and headed out onto the grounds. She would go and see Hagrid.
She wondered if he also knew.
She trudged down the grounds, feeling better than she had in a long time. She felt healthy and alive. She loved this feeling in her chest. She ran her hands through her thick hair and took in a deep breath of the summer air. Summer wouldn’t end for another few weeks. The school year did not affect the actual seasons. So with a smile she headed on her way to Hagrid’s Hut.

She quickly stepped up the few steps and knocked on his oversized door. She looked around and saw several strange creatures pinned behind the hut and she felt absolutely no desire to go and see what they were.
The door opened up with a creak and after one look at him, she knew that he knew.

His eyes were blood shot and his face was tear stained. He had never been one to control or hide his emotions. His body was trembling and his hair was a mess. He looked down at Hermione and his lips began to tremble and he squinted against the tears.

“Oh Hermione!” he cried and bent down and she was enveloped in his strong arms. She wrapped her arms around his bushy head and held him tight. It was less for her comfort and more for his. He cried and held her tightly, but not too tightly. She could still breathe.
They remained like that for a few moments and then he pulled away.

“Oh I’m sorry, Hermione. I’m being all selfish. How are you?” he asked and ran his nose across his sleeve. Hermione ignored the rather disgusting gesture and smiled.

“I’m great Hagrid. Haven’t felt this good in a long while,” she said with a laugh. Hagrid smiled and looked around.

“It’s Hogwarts. It can do wonders,” he said with a shrug. “Please, come in,” he said and stepped out of the way. She walked inside and looked around. It was the same as always. Fang looked up and made a small yip and she knelt down and stroked him gently. He nuzzled her hand before going back into a peaceful snooze.

“Have a seat,” he motioned towards one of the chairs that were much too large for her. She still did and crossed her arms, watching him fumble about, trying to be distracted.


“You know this year I have a whole lot planned out for me class…”


“It’s going to be a real thriller this year…”


“Would you like some tea? Of course you would…”

“Hagrid!” Hermione finally called out. He froze, a teapot and mugs in his hands. “Hagrid, will you please look at me?” She asked. He turned slowly and faced her, though his eyes were firmly planted on the floor. “Please Hagrid,” she begged of him, her voice on the verge of breaking. The sound of her so upset caused Hagrid to look up.

Tears were spilling over his eyes and onto his cheeks. He set the teapot and mugs down on the table and sniffled.

“It’s just not right, Hermione. You don’t deserve it… oh look at me. I’m just being inconsiderate. Crying and all… it’s not as if you need to be reminded!” he said, inwardly beating himself up. Hermione slid off of the chair and walked towards him slowly. She took his oversized hands in hers and looked up at him sadly.

“Hagrid, it’s OK to cry. God knows I’ve done my share,” she said. He squeezed his eyes against the tears. He took a shaky breath.

“I promised myself I’d be strong…”

“Hagrid, look at the size of you! I have a feeling you’re strong without even trying,” she laughed. Hagrid looked down at her with guilt in his eyes, though the small familiar twinkle of laughter.

“How do you do it?” he asked her suddenly. “How do you put up through all of this with a smile on your face?” he asked and sat down. He began to prepare the tea, sniffling and trying to get control of his tears. She sighed and watched him stir it. Her hands were cold and she rubbed them together quickly, the friction warming them.

“I have my good days and bad days, just like everybody else. They’ve been mostly bad lately, so I was due for a good one. That’s what today has been like, anyways,” she said. She took the mug of tea gratefully and sipped on it. Hagrid was a lousy cook but he knew how to make the perfect cup of tea.

“If I were in your position they’d all be bad,” he said gruffly. “You on any medication?” he asked, seeming awkward. Hermione nodded.

“Yes. If I were on any more I swear it would just make more sense to drug me to unconsciousness,” she said. She knew it was a bad attempt at humor, so she just sipped her tea and avoided Hagrid’s gaze.

“So how has Head Girl been working for you?” he asked and just stirred his tea, not particularly interested in it’s soothing nature. She sighed deeply and thought about it for a moment.

“It’s a lot like being a Prefect. I just sort of supervise it all. I haven’t really been keeping up with it, though. And I’ve been a real jerk to Malfoy,” she said sadly. Hagrid rolled his eyes.

“Well he deserved it! I swear, with what he’s done… he should have been expelled long ago!” he slammed his mug of tea down and Hermione jumped. She sighed, feeling even worse about how she was getting along with the horrid boy.

“I know, but McGonagall hasn’t told you about the terms, has she?” Hermione asked Hagrid. He shook his head and his bushy hair shook with it. Hermione took a deep breath and swirled her tea around in its mug. “Well, if Malfoy and I aren’t civil to one another we’re both going to have our privileges taken away. Head Girl, no more,” she said sadly. Hagrid glared angrily but stayed quiet. “Malfoy was keeping up his end of the bargain, but he asked me a… sensitive question and I blew up at him.”

“Did you hit him?”


“You should have,” Hagrid said grumpily. Hermione laughed and silently thanked him for being Hagrid.
They were silent and Hermione sipped her tea, it warming her.

“Hermione?” he asked quietly and a bit nervously.

“Yes?” she asked and looked up from her mug of tea.

“Have you told Ron and Harry?” Hagrid asked. Hermione was silent. She set her mug down and stared at her pale hands, her fingers trembling as she rung them together. She shook her head no after a few moments. “They have a right to know.”

“I know Hagrid! But do you know how they’d treat me if they found out?” Hermione asked. Hagrid closed his eyes and sighed. “I don’t want to be different, Hagrid. I want them to treat me the same as always. I promise I’ll tell them eventually, but not yet. Please, don’t mention anything to them,” Hermione begged of him.

“Hermione, they need to know…”

“They will know, just not yet. I’ll tell them,” she promised him. Hagrid looked up at her sadly. His bit his lip and scratched at his beard.

“Hermione, you know this isn’t right. I’ll trust your judgment. Tell them after your appointment at St. Mungo’s. Promise me that.” Hermione nodded and whispered her promise. She finished off her tea and bid farewell to Hagrid.
Leaving, guilt rushed through her. She didn’t know if she’d ever tell Ron or Harry. They meant so much to her. She couldn’t stand the thought of them treating her in the way that Hagrid just treated her. It wasn’t right. Every time they’d look at her there would be tears in their eyes. Every time they touched her it would be gentle, as if she were a piece of china. Everything they said to her would be guarded, making sure that they didn’t contradict her or hurt her feelings in any way possible.
She knew this was true because this was how the Professors, her parents, the doctors, and her Muggle friends had all treated her. By the end of the summer she had no muggle friends. None of them could even stand to be near her.
Harry and Ron treating her in the same manner frightened her more than anything in her life, including her current condition. Sighing, she ran a hand through her hair. She rested her fingers on the welt on the back of her neck. She felt the stitches. She ran her finger along the extent of it.
If it were for magic, she wouldn’t have been able to hide from the ugly truth of it. If it weren’t for magic people would stare at her every day.
As soon as she got to St. Mungo’s they would tell her the cold hard truth of it.

She wondered how she would react to it. She wondered what they would do to try to help her. She had been to countless Muggle doctors and none of them were able to help, just give her all of this medication. Hopefully the wizards could do something more.
Hopefully they would fix her.

She knew it was more complicated than that and the thought weighed down her steps as she headed back up to the castle. She was not merely a broken toy that could be fixed with a simple wave of a wand.

She was a toy that was smashed to pieces and the pieces them crumbled to dust and thrown carelessly to the wind.

It was going to take a lot more than just a simple wave of a wand to put her back together.



Chapter 6 - Letters From Home

Hermione was back in her Common Room, piles of books stretched out in front of her. She knew that this wasn’t healthy, but right now she wanted to distract herself. After the things that Hagrid had said to her had completely sunken in she was drowning in a pool of overwhelming guilt. She was suffocating, choking, and gasping for air in the cold dark depths of the emotions that lay deep inside her heart.
She shook her head and put her quill down, trying desperately hard to concentrate on a Potions essay Snape had assigned that afternoon. Taking a deep and shaky breath she closed her eyes.
She remembered Hagrid’s tears…

She pushed the thought out of her mind. She had made so many people cry, and hurting someone as open hearted and kind and gentle as the large man who loved the strange and vicious animals with a strange depth was just as painful as burning her hand.
An envelope that Harry had given to her in Potions lay on the coffee table, haunting her thoughts. It was from her parents. She turned away from the letter. She knew genuine concern would be in it. False hope would be slipped in with the words that they had taken such time to scribble down. She did not need to be filled with it as she had been so many times before. She didn’t want to read it but still knew that her thoughts would not settle and she would never get the essay done and over with if she did not read the letter.

She reached over and snatched it up. She ran her fingers along the fine edges of the egg white envelope and recognized her mother’s curvy writing along the front, addressed to Hermione at Hogwarts. She smiled, shaking her head. No matter how many times she explained it to them they didn’t understand that there was no need to write the addresses down, and the owls knew where they were going if you just told them.
If you’ve been a muggle as long as them, some habits are just hard to break.

She could already feel the tears beginning to pound at her eyes. She didn’t like the thought that she might never see her mother’s lovely smile or her father’s critical stare ever again. So, with a shaky breath, she slipped a fingernail beneath the sealed fold and tore it open.
She did not like the sound of the tearing paper and she set the envelope down quickly. She didn’t have to read it NOW. She could read it LATER. She couldn’t take her eyes off of it though. She couldn’t help but wonder what lay in the mysteries of the envelope.
She knew it would be nothing she didn’t expect. There was still a chance though, and that chance grew into a very likely possibility that there was something fantastic written on the paper. She would never know until she read it.
So she carefully plucked the first page of the letter from the envelope and unfolded it. She took a deep breath and reminded herself to be strong.

Dear Hermione,

How are you? How are you feeling? Are you taking your medication? I’m sorry to bother you with such questions, honey, but it’s a mother’s duty to be concerned about her daughter’s welfare. Are you still going to your appointment at St. Mungo’s next weekend? I hope that Hogwarts is treating you all right. Remember, we arranged it with Professor Dumbledore so if you aren’t feeling up to attending school this year a tutor can be arranged to home school you. I know you want to feel normal, but I can’t stand the thought of you getting worse and me not being able to reach you.

I know we made an agreement not to discuss your condition, so I’ll change the subject.

How are your friends doing? Ron and Harry? I remember you couldn’t stop talking about them over the summer. Send Harry my condolences over the loss of his godfather, and tell Ron that your father and I have all the faith in the world in his Quidditch skills. What about Ginny? How is she doing? I feel so left out of your life now that you’re off in school again.

Are there any romantic interests in your life right now? Any cute boys you want to tell me ALL about. I’m just joking, honey. Please don’t respond flustered and embarrassed as you usually do when I bring up the topic of boys. I know that you were looking forward to seeing Viktor these past two summers and I’m sorry we didn’t permit it. I apologize. Next summer you can spend the entire time with him, that is, if you wish to.

Hannah and Jessica told me to say they hope you feel better and are looking forward to your returning. I don’t know why you all of a sudden stopped speaking to them. I know you don’t want to hurt them. They want to be here for you, dear. Please accept that things are going to be different between you and anyone else who knows. There is no avoiding that. Give them another chance, dear. For me?

Well I suppose I should go now. I feel I’m getting too emotional. Your father wishes to say something to you.

I just want you to know that you are my pride and joy, and I love you with every fiber of my soul. You are a piece of me Hermione, no matter the circumstances. You’ll forever be with me, my child. I love you.

Signed~ Mum

Hermione wiped a tear from her eye and took a deep breath. Could she handle the letter from her father? He had become so cold lately. So numb to everything. He had tried to act as normally as possible and instead just seemed the strangest around her. It was as if he couldn’t even stand the sight of her.
So she reached over to the table and drew the second piece of paper from the envelope and hesitantly opened it. Before her eyes began to read what her father said, she wondered if it was best left to be unknown…

Dear Hermione,

I know I haven’t said much about your condition. I know that I’ve been shut off towards it. Truth is, I’ve been in denial. I suppose I’ve accepted it now, as you have from the very start.

I’m writing this to you not to give you false hope or pretend everything is normal. I’m writing this to tell you something I should have told you long ago.

I love you, Hermione. I haven’t been acting like it lately because I just frankly did not have the strength to be strong for the both of us. You are everything that I could have ever hoped for in a child. You are beautiful, strong, intelligent, kind hearted, and a blessing to the world. I’m going to hold onto you tight, my baby girl. You are my princess and I will never let you go.

Though this letter is not as long as your mother’s don’t think it means I love you any less than she.

Forever~ Dad

Hermione couldn’t hold back the flood of tears that overcame her. She stared at his writing as her vision slowly blurred and drops fell from her eyes. She sniffled and struggled to hold back the sobbing. She had to be strong. She had to be everything that her father thought she was.
Her hands were trembling and with her free hand she rubbed constantly at her tears, trying to dry them.

“Granger?” Malfoy asked as he walked into the Common Room. His eyes were cold and hard as he stared at her. “Why are you crying?” he asked. There was not a note of compassion in his voice. There was just blunt curiosity and authority, thinking that anything he demanded to know he would know.
God she hated Draco.

“Leave me alone,” she whispered huskily through her tears and folded the letters quickly, stuffing them back into the envelopes.

“Sorry for caring,” he said huffily with that snotty air of his. Hermione jumped up, tears bursting from her eyes in a gush and pain that Malfoy had never before seen on someone’s face.

“Draco Malfoy, you couldn’t care about anything but yourself even if it was your own mother! You are a selfish, rude little prick who thinks he knows everything! Leave me alone!” Hermione sobbed and stood there on trembling feet. The pain was gone from her eyes. She felt faint and her mind was spinning.

Malfoy stared at her open mouthed; regret filling his usually stony cold eyes. Usually he enjoyed pain. He lapped it up and laughed at it when he saw it in others. Still, it was so deep-seeded and horrible in Hermione’s dark, secretive eyes that he wished he had never opened his mouth.

“Granger…” he mumbled and stared at the floor.

“Malfoy, if you actually cared you would just leave me in peace and let me cry,” she whispered before her body began to sway. Malfoy watched, frozen in place for a moment. When he saw her knees give and her pained eyes roll back into her head he rushed forward and caught her before she smacked her head on the coffee table.
He slowly lowered her to the floor and she lay still, unconscious in his arms.

He shook his head and looked around, helpless and afraid. He was not afraid for his own well being though.

He was afraid for Hermione.



Chapter 7 - Taken Care Of

hen Hermione’s eyes opened she realized that she was lying on the couch. A cool cloth was draped over her forehead. She groaned and sat up. A panging in her forehead caused her to lay back down. Her mouth was dry. She saw a cup of water on the table next to her and reached out for it, sipping it gently. It cooled her mouth and throat and made her tongue feel less like sand paper.
She looked around and continued to rest her head. Her eyes throbbed angrily. She had been having such a good day too until MALFOY got her upset.

“Hello?” she called out hoarsely into the apparently empty Common room. “Is anybody there?” she tried again. She was met by silence. “Malfoy?” she called out. She groaned and brought her hands to her temples, rubbing them firmly. It did not ease the pain, just distracted her.

“Granger?” a voice asked.

“Malfoy!” Hermione called back out. The door to his room opened and he came outside and kneeled by her side. He was shirtless, once again. “Are you ever fully dressed?” she groaned grumpily and swatted his hands away which were fumbling with the cloth on her head.

“No. You should be thankful. Usually I walk around naked,” he said with a sneer. “Although I know it’s a site you wish to see, with your current condition it might give you a seizure or something.” Hermione glared at him icily.

“I’m perfectly healthy!” she snapped at him. Draco nodded.

“Yes, of course you are. You just pass out for fun,” he said sarcastically. “Hold still!” he snapped and snatched the cloth from her forehead. She groaned. She would fight back if she had the strength, but she was just too tired.
He tapped it with his wand and it was instantly cool and moist again. He set it on her forehead and it soothed her throbbing mind. She watched him angrily. This wasn’t fair. She knew he was just getting pleasure from taking control like this.

“Why do you care, Malfoy?” she asked, trying to sound cold but couldn’t help the teaspoon of warmth. He looked at her.

“As much of a bastard you think I am, I’m only like that to healthy people. I don’t exactly get off on hurting people already in pain,” he mumbled and pressed the cloth against her head tightly. “I’m trying to get you back to full health as soon as possible so I can continue torturing you… subtly of course. Just to tell you now I’m not going to be the one to lose us our privileges,” he said stubbornly. Hermione glared at him but couldn’t help but be a little relieved. She was frightened that no one would help her if she became hurt. Knowing that Malfoy cared even the SLIGHTEST bit comforted her.

“How many times do I have to tell you that I’m healthy?” she grumbled. Draco rolled his eyes.

“Of course you are Hermione, and your parents wrote you a letter about medication and hospitals as some sort of joke?” Hermione went pale and shot up, ignoring the throbbing headache and dizziness achieved by doing this.

“YOU READ MY MAIL?” she screamed. Draco furrowed his eyebrows.

“Well EXCUSE ME for trying to figure out if you NEEDED TO GO THE HOSPITAL! Next time you get sick I’LL JUST LEAVE YOU THERE TO ROT!” he shouted and snatched the cloth angrily from her forehead and threw it down on the ground.

“YOU READ MY MAIL!” she screamed again, this time not a question. Draco stomped his foot.

“WE already got PAST that little bit of information GRANGER!” Draco shouted angrily. Hermione was flustered, looking from Draco back to the letters on the table and then Draco again.

“But you read my mail,” she said lightly and fell backwards. She remembered the letters, thinking about every word. He knew that she was sick, but he didn’t know what was wrong with her. That was a break. He sat back down on the table, a bit flustered, but picked up the cloth and re-cooled it before placing it on her forehead. She closed her eyes.

“Yes, I did read your mail but could you get it through your thick head I did it with the best intentions?” he asked. She nodded, exhausted and weak. “Granger.”

“Hmm?” she asked, squinting her eyes that made it through her eyelids.

“What’s wrong with you?” he asked and there seemed to be genuine concern in his voice.

“I don’t want to tell you,” she said stubbornly. He was silent for a moment and she felt him press his hand against the cloth of her forehead, the coolness of the rag sending pleasant tingles into her head.

“Is it serious?” he asked. She was quiet again. She then nodded sadly. He didn’t ask any more questions. He just sat there, every few minutes re-cooling the cloth. She lay there, letting him take care of her. It was nice. She hated to admit it but Draco apparently was deeper than a puddle after a light spring shower. She would give him credit for the depth of a puddle after a really heavy rainstorm.

“Thank you,” she said calmly.

“So you do have manners,” Draco said, raising his eyebrows and a cool sneer playing across his face.

“Oh sod off.”

“Ouch, you hurt my feelings Granger!” Hermione groaned and rolled her eyes. She focused on Draco. He was staring at her, his full-moon-on-the-water eyes deep and concerned. They stared at each other, no hate between them. They were not awkward though his hand was firmly pressed against her head.
What was this? This must be some sort of joke. Maybe it was a side effect to the medication. She remembered one of the warnings had said ‘sexual side effects’. They should have been more elaborate and written ‘may be a chance of becoming attracted to slithering manipulative ferrets’.
She closed her eyes and broke her staring contest with Malfoy. Had she just considered herself attracted to Malfoy? If she had a choice she would flush all of her medication down the toilet right now if it made her feel this way.
Somehow she had a sneaking suspicion that the medicine had nothing to do with it.

“Eh Granger, you have an appointment at St. Mungo’s next weekend, don’t you?” he asked and tried to sound casual. She nodded, still not wanting to look at him. It was the medication combined with the fact that he didn’t look too bad shirtless that made her think she was attracted to him. The idea was simply preposterous!

“Yes, why?” she asked rather coldly.

“I was wondering if you’d enjoy some company.” Hermione looked at him curiously.

“What? What do you mean?” she asked him.

“Well, I’m not sure if I can get any more straight forward than I just was. Would… you… like… me… to… come… with… you… to… St… Mungo’s? For such an insufferable know-it-all you sure can be stupid,” he snickered.

“I take offense to that,” Hermione glared at Malfoy. He shrugged.

“Well it’s the worst I can call you without being stripped of my Head Boy title,” he sighed. Hermione sighed and shook her head.

“Whatever made you think that I’d want you to come with me?” she spat at him. He instantly withdrew and became cold.

“You’re a brat, Granger. Did you know that? I understand you’re sick but that doesn’t give you an excuse to be such a god awful bitch,” Draco snapped sourly. He stood and turned around, stalking out of the Common Room.
Hermione moaned in regret but did not call after him. This was for the best.
She stood and on trembling legs made her way back to her bedroom where once again she lay down to sleep in her clothes, not having the strength to change into something more comfortable.



Chapter 8 - Help

Waking the next morning, Hermione was in a sour mood. The fight with Malfoy she had the night before was still playing vividly in her mind. Why did he have to be so foul? Why did he have to be so stubborn? She just wanted him to keep his distance and say something nice every once in a while. She never wanted him to get into her business.
Then again, it was sort of her fault for his vulgarity the night before. She had been rather mean to him.
She sat up and rubbed her head. She was supposed to go to Quidditch Practice with Harry, Ron, and Ginny today. Then she and Ginny were going to come back up to this Common Room and spend some girl time together. Hermione was anxious just to sit down and have a normal conversation with someone.
She quickly showered and cleaned herself up. Her hands were trembling as she tried to open the bottles. She couldn’t. She groaned.
Her thumbs were being torn against the rough edges of the caps of the medicine bottles. It just wasn’t opening! She groaned and twisted it as hard as she could. Damn childproof seals! Tears filled her eyes. She felt so hopeless. She couldn’t even open a bottle of medicine. That left no hope for the other bottles.
She left out an exasperated scream and through the orange transparent bottle at the sink and listened to the pills rattle around noisily as it spun around in the sink. She rubbed her head. She couldn’t stop trembling.
She took several deep breaths and tried her best to steady herself. She opened her eyes and bit her lip. This is what it had come to. This is what her condition had turned into.
She looked around sadly. It wasn’t a good idea to skip her medication. She rubbed her eyes and squeezed some excess water from her hair.
She supposed there was some good that came out of Malfoy knowing about her sickness.
She swept the bottles off the counter and into a tuck in her robes she had made. She quietly left the bathroom. Much to her convenience, Malfoy lay on the couch shirtless once again, reading the newspaper. This time there was no additional breakfast on the table. She stepped out bashfully.

“Um… erm… Draco?” she asked quietly.

“Hmm?” he asked coldly, not looking up from the Daily Prophet. She could feel it worsening, boiling and agitating inside of her. She really needed her medication. It was acting up and she really did not need that today. Of all days, she didn’t need a perfect Saturday to be ruined.

“I need your help,” she said meekly. “Could you help me?” her voice was trembling as severely as her hands and he quietly folded the newspaper and looked at her. He looked her up and down coldly.

“What do YOU need help with? Cause I’m just going to stop my ENTIRE day to satisfy EVERY ONE of your NEEDS,” he said sarcastically. Tears welled in Hermione’s eyes. Malfoy was going to be no help. Her lips trembled and she nodded, turning around.
She did not want to yell at him. She could feel it inside of her, tugging and yanking. It was pulling and ripping, shredding apart the life she had. It squeezed and throbbed like some sort of creature, feeding off of her and laughing at her pain.
Her hands trembled so badly she could barely even hold the fold in her robe tightly.

“Hermione?” Draco asked quietly. Hermione ignored the fact that he called her by her first name. She could barley even concentrate. He stood warily, watching her struggle just to walk back to her bedroom. “What’s going on?” he asked, concern seeping into his cool demeanor. Hermione took a careful step, her legs feeling like weak Jell-O beneath her.

It wasn’t fair. She didn’t deserve this. She just wished that everything could be normal. She wished that she could just lie down and sleep peacefully. She wished that she had no need for this medication. She wished that she could be as vibrant and filled with life as she had been the year before.
She took another step, sluggish and heavy. Her entire body was shaking so badly she could hear the pills rattling around in their bottles. It sounded as if it were an omen. It was an omen, laughing and sneering in her face. It was telling her to give up all hope. There was no chance for her. She was just going to be this way for the rest of her life. She was going to be in pain, lost, and alone.

A sob escaped her trembling lips and her legs gave way beneath her. This time Malfoy was not there to catch her. She was just too weak to stand. The bottles rolled across the floor, things rattling and shaking as they escaped her reach.
Hermione scrambled for them quickly, sobs escaping her shuddering body, the pain slowly suffocating her. She grabbed one and tried to open it. She couldn’t. She let out an exasperated scream and slammed the bottle against the floor repeatedly, trying to break it open. Her desperation made Malfoy, frozen in wonder and fear, rush over to her.

“I hate you! I hate you!” she screamed at the bottle as she rapped it repeatedly against the floor. It would not break.
Draco collapsed purposely on the floor at her side. He wrapped her tightly in his arms. He was astonished at the amount of trembling in her body. He held her so tight that she could barely move. He wasn’t trying to comfort her; he was trying to stop whatever was happening to her.

“I can’t even open a bottle!” she screamed and the bottle rolled from her sore and torn fingertips. “I… can’t… open… a bottle…” she sobbed and clung to his chest, curling into a ball and pressing against him. He held her as tightly as possible, letting her cry against him.

What was wrong with Hermione that had caused this reaction? She was so cold and alone. She wasn’t letting anyone share this burden. She took it all upon herself. Was she so selfless that she was willing to take all this pain in darkness so no one else was hurt?
Draco held her even tighter, rocking her in his arms. He closed his eyes against his own tears that were becoming overwhelming. She was like a lost and frightened child, helpless and lost in his arms, seeking any comfort that was willing to be spared.
For a solitary moment he wished that he could just take all of her pain away for a little while and let her breathe freely.

Hermione’s shudders and trembling had decreased and her sobs had quieted. She still clung desperately against him and he could feel the streaks of blood left on his bare chest by her torn fingertips from trying to open the bottle. He reached over to the closest bottle and opened it gently, sliding a single pill out. He did not look at the name of the medication. That was her business, and if she wished to bear it alone, he’d oblige.
He gently slipped the pill between her trembling lips and she dry-swallowed. He stroked her hair gently and her trembling became so minute that he could only feel it because she was pressed so tightly against his bare skin.
He slipped his arm under her and lifted her. She clung around his neck, worn out and exhausted though she had just woken. He walked her over to a couch and set her down. She was so light it was almost eerie. Maybe that’s why she wore over-sized clothes. To hide all of the weight she had lost.
She curled up tightly on the couch and he quickly fetched the other four bottles of medicine and opened them gently, handing her a single pill from each. She swallowed each one dryly.
In a few minutes she was drying her tears and looking at Malfoy in shame. He sat down next to her. He didn’t dare touch her. When she was having that strange attack, that was different. Now that she was seemingly better things were awkward and distant between them once again.
They were quiet and Hermione continued to rub at her eyes as if trying to rid the memory of her tears completely.
She looked at Malfoy guiltily.

“Thank you,” she whispered. He nodded. He looked at her and furrowed his eyebrows before biting his lip.

“Listen, Granger. I know that you don’t want to talk about what’s wrong with you and everything, but you need to tell me enough so I’m prepared in case that happens again,” he said seriously and carefully. She looked at him with mysterious and deep brown eyes.

“It won’t happen again…”

“There’s a chance it might,” he said, quickly interrupting her. She took a deep breath.

“I’ll live my medicine on the counter of my bathroom. The only time something like this might happen is if I forget to take my medication or I delay it too long. Just do what you did this time. Wait until I’ve calmed and then give me my medication,” she said calmly and rubbed at her eyes again. “Thanks again for helping me,” she whispered.

“It wouldn’t have happened if I had just helped you in the first place,” he mumbled, guilt filling his eyes. Hermione shook her head.

“After the way I treated you last night, I deserved it.” They were quiet for a moment, and then Draco looked at Hermione weird.

“This doesn’t make us friends, does it?”

Hermione rolled her eyes, “Hardly. You just know cause you live with me. I’m off to Quidditch Practice. I promised Ron and Harry I’d meet them there,” she said stiffly and then stood, rubbed at her eyes once more, and strutted out of the room.
Draco sat there with small smears of blood on his chest and he watched her leave.

He couldn’t help but be a little disappointed at her response.


Gypsy Vampire

L.O.V.E love it!

This is a guardian angel..she might not look like much but she will protect you from anything. If you give up and dont trust her you'll feel empty and scared. She's homeless right now so many people have thrown her away for all the bad things that have happend. But is it her fault? She can only do so much but when an angel dies not just one angel weeps. All of them do.


((Thanks and the worst part is ... well for me at the moment, is there is like 42 chapters lol )))

Ageless in my Big Brother From A Different Mother I love you
Daughter Of Nyx - My Sister I love you
Fuarie - My Seestor From A Differnt Meestor Smile I love you

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