Hermione Granger had always been smart. Heck, she had always been beautiful, too. And although no other student at Hogwarts dared admit it, she was ferociously envied. Her curly locks fell gently onto her shoulders despite her not having time to brush it. Her hazel eyes were warm and welcoming, despite her harsh exterior. And although her body was hidden behind black, draping robes, the boys all seemed to appreciate it.

But Hermione was consumed in her own little world. Knowledge bounced impressively against the walls of her brain, ready to pounce on whoever may request it. She prided herself on not only her studies, but true friendship, and courage. For, it was her and her closest friends who had fought the Death Eaters last year in the Department of Mysteries. It was her who had seen Harry be possessed by the Dark Lord. And although she wasn't the most physically inclined out of the famous trio, it satisfied her to know they'd be dust without her.

It had all started on her train ride back to Hogwarts in September. Hermione had fallen out with her best friends, Harry and Ron, whilst discussing S.P.E.W., and decided to search for a different compartment in order to escape them. It was true that Hermione had developed feelings for the ingenuous, red-haired boy ever since their fourth year, but those were in no way more important to her than elf welfare. As Hermione clambered into a discarded cabin on the train, seconds later a boy considerably worse than both Ron and Harry's witlessness appeared, and it was none other than Draco Malfoy.

"Well if it isn't Hogwarts' finest Mudblood," the tall, sneering boy spat, his eyes blaring maliciously into Hermione's.

"I'm not in the mood, Malfoy. Please just shove off." Draco seemed taken aback, and almost delighted to have hit a nerve so quickly. He sat directly opposite the brooding girl, a satisfied smirk growing larger across his face.

"I don't know about you," Draco continued after a moment's silence, "but I always thought ignoring a fellow peer's presence was a rather rude thing to do."

"Rude?" Hermione scoffed, finally losing her patience entirely. "The most arrogant, egocentric, narcissistic prat in the school thinks he has a right to receive good manners?" This seemed to distract Hermione exclusively from her former S.P.E.W. argument, and from her favoured copy of Hogwarts: A History, which was now sprawled carelessly over the floor. Draco Malfoy had always known how to rattle her.

"See, that's the Granger I remember. I'd argue you can be as equally discourteous; your wrist especially." Hermione simpered for a moment, appreciating the punch she'd landed on Draco's jawline only three short years ago.

"So tell me Granger, what are you doing in here by yourself? Have even Potty and Weasel had enough of your disgustingly insufferable personality?"

"No!" Hermione snapped defensively. "I just needed to collect my thoughts for a while. It's nothing you need to worry about."

"Worry?" sneered Draco, deciding to rest his legs on the seat straight next to her, "No, Granger, I'm merely amused." Hermione shot his cold, grey eyes a warning look, and pretended to find the page in her book once more, hoping she could be left alone once again.

Unfortunately, Draco found various cunning ways to rattle his passionate peer, and by accident, both students found themselves retorting banter to one other for the rest of their journey to Hogwarts.

"First years, this way!" cried a familiar booming voice. Rubeus Hagrid was collecting the first years out of the buzzing swarm of returning Hogwarts students that were still emptying the train.

"Remember when that was us?" Harry grinned, wrapping his arms around his tall, ginger friend, and the frizzy-haired beauty beside him. Hermione seemed to have forgotten all about their former SPEW argument on the train.

"Yes, Harry, I do. And I don't miss it one bit." Hermione retorted, glimpsing solemnly at the green-eyed boy.

"What do you mean, you don't miss it?" Harry asked, astonished.

"Yeah, everything was so much easier back then!" cried Ron.

"Yes, everything was easier. But you see, I'm so much smarter now."

"Plus, she has boobs!" Ron giggled, giving his female friend a playful punch.

The trio waltzed back to the castle, reminiscing over their last five years at Hogwarts. It was only when they reached the gates, however, that Hermione became distracted. It appeared that Draco Malfoy and his posse of Slytherins were causing havoc, as usual, and tripping over fourth years. Hermione fervently threw Harry's arm off of her shoulder and stormed over to the scene.

"Malfoy!" she barked, edging him into a corner of the castle gate. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Mudblood, this is Blaise - Blaise, this is-"

"Mudblood, yeah, can smell her from a mile away."

"Oh very funny. And I suppose you think tripping over fourth years is funny too? I'm a prefect, by the way, and so is Ronald, so if you think for one second that you can treat any students at Hogwarts like this, especially those from Gryffindor, you are greatly mistaken." Hermione's face was bright magenta; fuming with rage. It almost felt as though steam was about to shoot out of her ears.

"Nevermind about that, Mudblood. You ugly...fat mudblood."

"What?" Hermione retorted. She had never, in her entire life, been called fat before.

"Yeah, miss Granger-piggy! Don't want to be late for the feast so you can stuff your face again!" Draco's eyes stared into her's dangerously. He had always taken immense pleasure from disparaging her.

But Hermione had nothing left to say. She was utterly taken aback. She had thought their conversation on the train had been civil at the least, and now the self-consumed boy had utterly humiliated her in front of all of his friends. Fat? Me, fat? All of a sudden, she started to become uncomfortable. She felt her stomach, her face, her thighs begin to grow large - or had they always been that way? God, why hadn't she noticed? Maybe Malfoy's right, she thought. Maybe my weight is the problem.

Whilst entering the Great Hall a little later than expected, Hermione plucked herself back up. She was a Gryffindor Prefect after all. She had to show the Professors and younger years how passionate she was about the school.

"Hermione!" Ron shouted. "I've saved you a seat, here, take it." He gestured his hand beside him, showing off a goofy smile.

"Thank you, Ron," Hermione gasped gratefully, sitting down. She gulped. The table in front of her was completely full of food. Potatoes, meat, more meat and pastries were piled precariously up to the ceiling. The entire hall was buzzing with excitement; ravenous students reaching out and snatching anything within their reach.

"Hermione, I've seen Slughorn. He actually made it!" Harry chuckled, clapping his hands together with relief.

"Yes, well, just you be careful. Dumbledore's missions have never been easy. Strenuous, at the least." Hermione sighed, catching her friend Ginny's eyes, and exchanging a warm smile.

"Don't be a spoil sport, Hermione. This year's going to be fun, for the three of us." said Harry gleefully, giving his best friend a wink. But Hermione wasn't focussing on her friends, or the Gryffindor table at all. In fact, she was far more concerned about what Draco Malfoy and his gang were laughing about, right until they turned and pointed at her.

"Eat up, Hermione," Ron scuffed between mouthfuls of mashed potato, "it's a bloody good feast this year!"

"I - erm - I'm not hungry." Hermione croaked. Her mouth felt dry, but her eyes were watering. She couldn't spend another moment like this, with all of these judgmental eyes watching her. And that's when she ran.