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Harry, Ron and Ginny were too busy stuffing their faces to notice their best friends’ absence. Ron went to grab another chicken wing when he noticed. “’Arry, Gin, ‘ave you seen ‘Mione?” He managed through a mouthful of chicken. Harry and Ginny looked around the Great Hall. Hermione was nowhere to be found. “I wonder where she is?” Harry asked. “I just said that you idiot!” Ron said. “Maybe she was feeling ill,” Ginny said hopefully. “I sure do hope you’re right Gin” Harry replied. He stood up to go back to the Gryffindor Common Room. He helped Ginny up and the three of them walked up to the Common Room together. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ After the feast, Malfoy went up to the staff table, like Dumbledore told him to. “Hello Professor” Malfoy said, making his presence known. “Ah! Mr. Malfoy. But, where is Miss Turner?” Dumbledore asked. “Turner?” Draco asked puzzled. “Oh, you mean Granger don’t you? I believe I saw her step outside. Sir, why did Hermione change her name?” Malfoy asked. “That, is not my place to say, Mr. Malfoy. I believe I may have overstepped a few boundaries announcing her name change at dinner.” Dumbledore said, with a frown upon his face. “Nonetheless, I will show you where you and Miss Turner’s common room is. Please follow me Mr. Malfoy.” Dumbledore and Draco made their way out of the Great Hall. Dumbledore walked down the corridor, past the trophy case and down the stairs. He stopped, but only when he reached an extremely large tapestry, decorated with all of the house Mascots and Crests on it. He smiled at Draco, as he said the password: Amore. The tapestry turned into two big, oak doors. Dumbledore winked at Draco, as he ushered him in. Draco walked through the doors, and was impressed with what he saw. He was in a hallway. There were stairs descending down from where he stood. He started walking down the stairs. He noticed on the walls of the Hallway, were pictures of him and Hermione throughout their lives. He saw one of Harry, Hermione and Ron, all waving. “Yes, Mr. Malfoy. Those pictures are of the happiest times of your lives thus far.” Dumbledore said, smiling. Draco noticed one of him. He was on his toy broomstick, riding around in the air happily. There were so many pictures. Then, he saw two almost identical ones. They were the very last pictures. They were directly opposite each other. They were of him and Hermione, opening their letters saying they were Head Boy and Girl. Draco smiled. He figured those two pictures were supposed to be the greatest moment in their lives. Draco finally reached the end of the stairs, even more impressed. The large room was decorated in reds, golds, blacks and silvers. Draco had to admit the colors blended together nicely. To his left, was a small kitchen. To his right, a small library. In front of him was the sitting area. There was a black couch, with gold stitching and red and silver pillows. To the left of the couch, a black arm-chair, with a red blanket hanging over the arm, and the Gryffindor Crest on the back of the chair, where your back rests. To the right, there was another black chair, but this one had a green blanket hanging over the arm, and the Slytherin Crest embroidered into it. In the middle of all the chairs and couches, was a crystal coffee table. Of course, there was a large fireplace. To the left and right of the fireplace, were two sets of stairs, leading to his and Hermione’s bedrooms. Above the mantle of the fireplace, there were two paintings. They were of him and Hermione. He suspected that the paintings were enchanted to mimic their moods. In Draco’s painting, he was smiling, smugly. In Hermione’s painting, she was sighing, with a single tear running down her cheek. Draco finally remembered Hermione was outside. His painting frowned. I was right. They do mimic our moods he thought. “Professor, thank you for taking the time to show me to the Common Room. Now, if you will excuse me, I am going to go check on Miss Grang...Turner.” He said calmly. “Ah. Smart idea Mr. Malfoy. Good evening!” Dumbledore said, as he walked back up the Common Room stairs, and out into the castle’s hallways. Malfoy grabbed his cloak and headed towards the entrance of the castle. He walked outside onto the grounds. The wind was blowing gently. Draco scanned the area, trying to see Hermione. He saw a shadow leaning against a tree by the lake. He walked towards the lake, hoping he would find Hermione. He did, of course. Draco saw the girl against the tree, staring at the lake. Hermione was, yet again, singing. Probably some muggle song Draco thought. He was a good ten feet away from Hermione, but he could hear every word she sung perfectly. Well, I couldn’t tell you Why she felt that way She felt it everyday And I couldn’t help her I just watched her make The same mistakes again What’s wrong, What’s wrong now? Too many, too many problems Don’t know where she belongs Where she belongs She wants to go home But nobody’s home That’s where she lies Broken inside There’s no place to go No place to go To dry her eyes Broken inside Draco listened to Hermione’s voice. He had never seen this Hermione. He had always seen the happy, studious, in control, bossy Hermione. Never had he imagined he would see the sad, alone, vulnerable and lost Hermione. You would have never thought she had so many...problems. She hides them well. Hell, with her makeover, you would think her life is great, Draco though. He wanted to hold her in his arms, and make everything go away. Or, at least, that’s what he thought he wanted to do. He wasn’t sure. Malfoy was about to walk over to her, when he stopped. Oh no! She’s seen me, Draco thought, as Hermione started to move. She didn’t. She pulled something out of her pocket. Draco couldn’t tell what it was, so he walked a little closer. He didn’t need to go any closer. He could tell what the object was by her actions. Hermione put the thin object to her wrist, and gasped as she cut a two-inch gash into her soft flesh.
A/N: Sorry it took me so long guys. I’ve been busy/sick. Sorry if this chapter sucks! I personally don’t like it! Please R/R!! Also: I know that cutting is a sensitive topic, and I am sorry if anyone is uncomfortable with this. I would never write about something I didn't know. I have had friends that cut and I too have cut, so I am sorry if this offends you in anyway, but it is a crucial part to my story.

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