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[A/N-Enjoy! There's another A/N at the bottom.





Hermione’s POV!

The Hogwart’s Express

        Hermione sits on her bed at her parent’s home. She is thinking about the school year to come. This is the last year that she will ever have to give those fake smiles and pretend that she is happy-go-lucky all the time. As she sits there thinking about how many lies she is going to have to tell her ‘best friends’ this year, she picks up her knife. Hermione adds a new wound among the others that plague her thighs. Knowing that if she cut her wrist everyone would see it, she only ever cuts her thighs.

         As expected, Hermione is Hogwart’s Head Girl. She hates that she is Head Girl, she never wanted this attention, and if it was up to her she would wait in the shadows until death decided that she was worthy to come to hell, where she belonged. Hermione’s only comfort from being given this title is that she would have good excuses to get away from the people who are said to be her best friends, and yet know nothing of the depressing thoughts that run through her brain.

         She sets the knife in its case, and stows it away in her trunk, for it will be of great use this school year, or so she thinks. Plopping down onto her bed for the last time, Hermione falls into a very restless sleep.

        The next morning, she wakes up to her alarm clock that is signaling the beginning of a year that is promising to be absolutely horrid. She clambers out of her bed. Hermione starts her annual sweep of the house, making sure that she has everything she needs for her last year. At last, she says a very quick good-bye to her parents, who don’t really care that they may not see their daughter again; she steps outside and drives to King’s Cross Station.

        Hermione arrived earlier than normal, so she put her trunk and belongings down in a compartment near the back of the train. She steps off of the not-yet-steaming Hogwart’s Express. Realizing that she must have been in the train, lost in her own thoughts, for a while, she looks through the crowd for the flaming hair of Ronald Weasley. It wasn’t hard to spot him, because he and Harry had both grown again, and their heads were above everyone else’s. Sighing that she had to go and pretend to be someone that was the polar opposite of, she started towards the Weasley's, and Harry.

        When Hermione started to walk towards them, it had been a clear pathway. But, someone had stepped into her path, by mistake. Hermione was trying to compose herself into the know-it-all, when she hit something really hard. She landed on her wrist, which snapped very painfully. Never one to show emotion, Hermione cussed very loudly, “God Damnit!”

        Trying to control the tears that accompanied her probably broken wrist, Hermione looked up to see who, or what, she had run into. She gasped. Malfoy had always been good-looking. But right now he was drop-dead gorgeous. He no longer slicked his hair back. It was delicately falling into his blue-grey eyes. But when she looked into his eyes she saw something that she couldn’t recognize, maybe because it had never been present before. He looked as though he was sorry for hurting her wrist, which she was now holding in her left hand.



No, Hermione! Do not even think about it.

Come on, I have liked him since like second year.
Yeah, but if you even hinted that you liked him then he would publicly ridicule you.
Fine, but at some point this year I plan on telling him.
      


        She finally came up with something to say.

“Malfoy! You broke my wrist, asshole.”

“Maybe you should watch where the hell you are going, Granger,” he replied, while
looking her up and down. He seemed to pause on her leg for longer than necessary Hermione looked down to see that her scars were showing, because her skirt had risen up her thigh. She hurried to pull it down, praying that he hadn’t noticed them.

“Fuck off, Malfoy, I don’t need this right now,” she retorted, trying to get off of the ground, which resulted in her falling, yet again, on to her already hurt wrist. This time she cried out in pain and crumpled to the floor.

         Suddenly, she was being picked up by very strong arms, which turned out to be Draco’s. At first she thought about shoving away, for fear that he was going to hurt her more, but right when she thought that her wrist had a spasm of agonizing pain.  No longer caring who had picked her up, even if it was Draco, she put her left arm around their neck, and tried to keep her right wrist still. Hermione again looked into his eyes in hope for a glimpse at what was going through his mind. And what she saw shocked her.

         Draco Malfoy’s eyes normally only showed a few choice emotions. Those were arrogance, hatred, cruelness, or sarcasm. But, today, they showed something Hermione would have never guessed that their grey vastness could hold; it was a mixture between kindness, caring, and worry. The worry didn’t shock Hermione, because she could easily blame this whole incident on him ‘pushing her down twice.’ Even so, kindness and caring? What the hell?

         The whole time Hermione was thinking this she was whimpering with pain as Draco carried her to the nurse’s compartment. And every time she whimpered, Draco shushed her, in a comforting manner.





Later On;

         Hermione woke up but didn’t open her eyes. She wanted to sink back into oblivion. Also, her dream had gotten further than it ever had before.

         For a while now, Hermione has been having the same dream. It is always that somebody found out about her. Someone had finally realized her lies, and know what she is rally like. But it always ended after she had told them. But, this time, she had gotten farther than that.

[A/N-This is Hermione’s dream, not her thoughts.]


 Hermione was sitting in a room that wasn’t familiar to her. But she had her knife in her hand, a very familiar feeling. Today had been a very bad day, and she felt the need to cut twice tonight. She did her left thigh with her left hand, and she had just put the blade to her right thigh with her left hand when she heard a door open. She looked around to see someone in the shadows, watching her. Hermione dropped the knife. And while it fell to the floor with a very loud clang, she noticed that the person could see her already cut and scarred thigh, and she started to cry. Knowing that now that this person had seen that she had it to herself she confessed it all to them

This is normally where the dream normally stops. But it went on to this that night;

 The person that she had told everything to just walked up from behind her and gave her a hug that she could feel love through. She turned to look at this person to thank them, but she couldn’t see their face. [A/N-Not meant to be scary she just doesn’t recognize them in the dream so they ‘don’t have a face’] The only thing visible to Hermione was the man’s eyes.

         Hermione was so close to recognizing the eyes that she wanted to go dream again, because now that she was awake she couldn’t remember what the eyes looked like.

        She finally opens her eyes. Looking around, she realizes that she is in Hogwarts’ Hospital Wing. She must have passed out before Draco had gotten to the nurse’s compartment. Hermione looked around and was the only person in the Wing. She wondered if Ron or Harry, those ‘best friends’ of hers, had even come to see her.

        Suddenly, she remembered why she is there. Looking down at her wrist, she noticed a brace on it. Couldn’t Madame Pomfrey just heal it?

        Madame Pomfrey came over to Hermione’s bed.

“Dear, how do you feel?” Madame Pomfrey asked, like a mother when her kid was even the slightest bit sick.

“Actually, I was Just wondering why I have a brace on my wrist.”

“Well it seems that when you fell on your wrist again that you shattered a bone. The bone wouldn’t fully heal, so you have to keep the brace on for two weeks.”

“But that makes no sense. Magic can heal the worst injury possible. Do you know if there is a specific reason as to why my wrist wouldn’t heal?” Hermione asked, looking bewildered.

“Well, dear, sometimes if the injury is by a person that has a strong emotion for the person hurt, or if one inflicts pain upon themselves then the injury might not heal fully by magic,” explained Madame Pomfrey while looking at Hermione to see how she reacted.

         Hermione grew nervous when she said the part about self-inflicted pain. After she realized that she was still in the clothes she was in at King’s Cross Station, she calmed down. Madame Pomfrey couldn’t have seen her cuts.

“Oh, but I certainly didn’t fall on my wrist on purpose,” Hermione said slowly.

“Yes, but if the person holds a strong emot-” Madame Pomfrey started but was interrupted by Hermione’s laughter.

“Malfoy hates me. Which I guess is a strong emotion,” Hermione said looking utterly confused.

Madame Pomfrey barely shook her head, and Hermione wasn’t sure if she had actually shaken her head.

“Madame Pomfrey, have I had any visitors,” Hermione asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

“Oh yes, Mr. Weasley, Miss Weasley, and Mr. Potter came directly after the feast.”

         Hermione was slightly disappointed. She had thought that, maybe, Draco actually cared, but if he hadn’t even checked her well being, then he didn’t care.

         Madame Pomfrey saw her crestfallen face and quickly added, “Oh, and Mr. Malfoy stayed in the nurse’s compartment, on the train, until I assured him that you would be fine in two weeks, and even then he had to be forced to go and eat the feast.”

        Hermione was really shocked. She had expected that he had stayed for a minute in the nurse’s compartment, but she never expected what Pomfrey had just said. Hermione smiled a little, and then her stomach growled ferociously. Madame Pomfrey smiled and a tray of food appeared in front of Hermione.

         After she was finished eating, Hermione asked Madame Pomfrey if she could leave. She said yes. Hermione soon realized that she didn’t know where the Head’s Common Room was. She changed her path to go to the Headmaster’s office. Upon arriving she remembered something Harry had said, “If you need to get into Dumbledore’s office, but you don’t know the password, just say every type of candy you can think of.”

“Licorice wands, lemon drops, acid pops, pumpkin pasty, trecacle tarts, canary creams, cockroach clusters,” She said.

       Apparently, one of these was right, because the gargoyles sprang to life, laughing. Hermione stepped onto the spiral staircase. She knocked on the door leading to his actual office and a voice from within called, “Enter.” Hermione opened the door to see Dumbledore sitting behind his desk, like he was waiting for her. She glanced around the room and saw his fragile instruments laying on his desk, some of which had been broken by Harry in her fifth year. Making her way to sit down, Dumbledore asked to what he owed the pleasure of her visit.

“Well, sir, at King’s Cross Station I fell and broke my wrist. I now have no idea where the Head Dormitory is located. I was wondering if you could tell me.”

“Ah, of course, Miss Granger. It is on the second floor corridor, past the statue of Grettle the Guardian. The password is ‘Three souls.’”

“Thank you, Professor.”

        Hermione made her way up the staircases to her new dorm. While walking up a flight of stairs she wondered what Dumbledore had meant by setting their password to ‘three souls.’ Come to think of it, who was the head boy? She had missed out on meeting him during the train ride and at the feast. Finally, she found the portrait hole to the common room. Hermione studied the portrait. It was of a little girl and boy playing in a field. The little girl looked like Hermione had when she was about that age. And Hermione realized that it must be a portrait of her and the head boy when they were five.

        The boy playing be side her had light golden-blonde hair. He had bright blue eyes, and was a really cute little boy.

“Ahem.” Hermione interrupted their playing.

“Oh! Hello, Hermione. You must have realized who I am by now,” said the younger Hermione in a sweet little voice.

“Yes, I have. But I have yet to figure out who you are playing with.”

“Oh, well I shall not ruin it. Say the password and you will see.”

“Three souls”

         Hermione walked through the portrait hole. She stopped short when she saw the common room. It was a mixture of scarlet and green. The walls were scarlet with emerald green trim. The furniture was neutral. The love chair was green with red pillows and trim. The couch was red with green trim and pillows. The ceiling had a mural of the Gryfindor lion and the Slytherin serpent together. Hermione had no idea who would be Head Boy, if they were from Slytherin. Then, she noticed a white-blonde head on the couch.








[A/N: Dumbledore is alive. Yes, Draco is a little OOC here. But it shall be explained in the later chapters; I swear. By the way, if there are any sentences in italics then they are the person's [the person whose POV it is] thoughts, just depending on the point of view. And, if they are arguing with themselves, then it will also be in bold. Now, I am not sure how I am going to end this story. I am making it up as I go along. So, if you have any suggestions, notice any errors or just have feedback let me know. I really want to know what you think, for this is my first story, ever, not just my first fan fiction. Also, if you do reveiw would you mind telling me if I should put the next chapter in Hermione's POV or Draco's, 'cause I am not sure at all. Thank you for reading, Enjoy!

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