Disclaimer: I own none of the characters in this story. All of the characters belong to JKR.

Author's Note: I posted this story a few years ago and decided to revamp/edit it and repost. Hope you enjoy!


Once upon a time Hermione Granger had been happy, really and truly happy, but not any longer. The end of her 5th year at Hogwarts had seen the war they all dreaded looming ever closer. With the rise of violence in their world and the events at the Ministry of Magic, the Minister could no longer deny the continued existence of Lord Voldemort. With fears of her own safety as well as that of her friends plaguing her, Hermione had hoped that her summer in the muggle word would allow her some small bit of relief, but it was not to be so.

The first week she spent at home was restful to an extent, but there seemed to be a strain between her and her parents. Exactly seven days after Hermione returned home all hell broke loose in the Granger household. On that dreadful morning Hermione was called down to her parents study only to find them sitting solemnly on the couch. Hermione caught a glimpse of the Daily Profit, before her father stuffed it away.

Her parents quickly explained to her they had been getting the Profit since the beginning of her fifth year when she had left a copy at home. They had been trying to keep up with the magical world so they could stay connected to their daughter, but what they had read disturbed them greatly. That morning's paper had officially declared the return of Lord Voldemort and explained the events which occurred at the Ministry, including Hermione's involvement. This announcement turned out to be the deciding factor in a long decision the Granger's had been debating on.

"Hermione, you won't be returning to that school next semester," Mr. Granger firmly stated, and with that he unleashed a fury. At first Hermione attempted to be reasonable and explain all the reasons why she must return. Unfortunately, the Grangers refused to give in regardless of the arguments Hermione presented. The argument rapidly turned into a screaming match, in which Hermione repeatedly told her parents that she would most definitely be returning to school and there was nothing they could do to stop her. The fight was long and vicious and continued for over an hour until finally Hermione stormed out of the house. She did not return until well after midnight.

The rest of Hermione's summer was spent in much the same way. She tried to spend as much time away from her childhood home as possible but when she was present her parents continued to fight with her. Each day's fight getting worse and worse, as the weeks went on. The hardest part for Hermione was that by the end of her first month home these weren't simple arguments anymore, but were rather knock down drag out fights that ended in cruel words and hurt feelings. By the time Hermione was to return to school she was a slip of the girl she had been. The continual fighting had left her depressed, exhausted, and ill, yet her parents didn't seem to notice.

On the morning that Hermione was to return to school her parents refused to take her to the train station. Knowing what their opinion had been all summer Hermione had chosen to reserve a taxi to pick her up, but while she waited her parents started in on her again. By the time the cab arrived, the argument had yet again degenerated into a screaming fit and Hermione left without so much as a goodbye to her parents.

And so Hermione's sixth year at Hogwarts started. Hermione's feelings were so clouded by hurt, betrayal, self-loathing, and a low self-confidence that she wasn't sure how she would make it through a year. However, she was determined not to worry her friends with her problems when they had so many of their own. So as Hermione climbed aboard the Hogwarts express she plastered a fake smile on her face and pretended that everything was fine.

The school year started and continued like that, with Hermione pretending to be happy when she was around others, and keeping her grades up. No one ever questioned that Hermione might not be telling the truth, or guessed at the inner turmoil swirling in her mind. Everyday it got harder and harder for Hermione to keep up facade, as her problems wore away at her. She had no contact with her family and her friends seemed to care less about her every day. She tried so hard to be ok and not give in to her emotions until the day came that she couldn't fight it anymore.


The day she finally gave up had started fairly normal, with Hermione getting up at a ridiculously early hour; not that it was her fault really though, insomnia tends to do that to a person. After a night full of tossing, turning and generally not sleeping, Hermione decided that since the sun was rising she might as well too. As soon as she was showered, and dressed Hermione gathered her books and headed to the library. While most students wouldn't be allowed in at such an early hour Madam Prince had long ago decided that Hermione was trust worthy and gave her the password to the library. As the early morning passed Hermione became engrossed in the research she was doing for Transfiguration and decided she would rather skip breakfast than deal with people.

Eventually though Hermione's peace ended as the time for her double Defense Against the Dark Arts class with the Slytherins rolled around. Sighing to herself as she put her books away and gathered her things, before heading to the DADA classroom. She was only two turns away from the classroom when she ran into a sneering Draco Malfoy.

"Well if it isn't a lonely Gryffindor mudblood," he taunted her. "You shouldn't be alone in these 'dangerous' corridors," Malfoy sneered. Then with a shrug and a cruel grin he said, "Oh well I guess I'll have to teach you a lesson," and with that he slammed Hermione into a wall and ripped her satchel off her shoulder.

"Let's take a look shall we?" he exclaimed as he reached into her bag. Pulling out her books Malfoy began to rip pages out, tear the bindings in half and sling the books down the hall.

Hermione stood silent for a moment as the surprise of Malfoy's attack settled into her and then launched at herself at him yelling, "You insufferable prick!" Pulling her hand back Hermione threw a well aimed punch that landed on the side of Malfoy's face and split his lip.

"You shouldn't have done that you mudblood bitch," he seethed and then suddenly slammed her into the wall, but this time much harder than before. She hit the wall with enough force that her head cracked against the stone and she was left dizzy with black spots dancing in front of her eyes. "I can't really harm you or that fool Dumbledore would have my head, but I'll teach you not to mess with me," Malfoy growled at her. He then grabbed her bag, dumped the rest of its contents out, and set them on fire.

"Bastard!" Hermione gasped, wishing she could yell, but not able to because of the pain in her head.

"Language, language Ms. Granger," a silky voice slithered out of the shadows, as Professor Snape stepped forward. "Let's see, I do believe such a word is worth at least 25 points from Gryffindor." He drawled as he came closer to him. "Now what is all of this?," He asked as he came closer, but stopped suddenly as he caught sight of Malfoy's face. "Mr. Malfoy what the devil happened to your face?"

"I found her on the floor and when I tried to help her the little hellcat attacked me," Malfoy lied smoothly as he glared at Hermione.

"That's not tr-" Hermione tried to protest, but Snape cut her off quickly.

"Shut your mouth girl!," Snape snapped at her. "Attacking a student is bad enough, much less trying to lie you way out of it."

"But he attacked me," she tried to defend herself as the dizziness began to ease.

"Silence yourself," Snape snapped again and then turned to Malfoy. "Go clean yourself up Mr. Malfoy and don't worry about coming to class." Then turning back to Hermione he smoothly continued, "You will have detention every Thursday night with me for the next month and another 100 points off of Gryffindor for such animalistic behavior. Now clean this up and I expect to see you at class on time," and with that he started stalking off toward the DADA class.

"I told you, you'd learn a lesson bitch," Malfoy sneered as he picked up his bag and headed off for the Slytherin common room.

"Can this day get any worse," Hermione whispered to herself, as she tried to stand up straight while fighting the pain pounding in her head. By the time she managed to get to the fire that had once been her homework it had dwindled done to nothing but a glowing pile of ash. "Damn it!" she exclaimed as she realized that not only was her homework now ruined her books would take time to repair. Slowly she started collecting all the pages and pieces of her books. Little did Hermione know her day could, and would get worse. By the time she had collected all of her things and got them into her bag she -was 10 minutes late to class.

"I specifically told you not to be late Granger, so another 40 points from Gryffindor," Snape had snapped at her. While Harry and Ron looked at her with sympathy they wisely kept their mouths shut. Snape then continued on to ask for their homework essays, but of course Hermione's had been destroyed by Malfoy. When she did not turn one in Snape sneered at her and disparagingly stated, "The Gryffindor know-it-all not hand in an assignment? How ivery/iinteresting."

Snape continued to make snide and cruel remarks to Hermione for the rest of class and at the end reminded her to be in the DADA room at 7:00 Thursday night. "And do be prompt Miss Granger," Snape snapped as she walked out of the room.

The Gryffindor trio left the dungeons and headed straight for the Great Hall for lunch. As soon as they were sitting the boys wanted to know why in the world she was late and what happened to her homework. The boys seemed to care little about what Malfoy had done and were only interested in the fact that she had punched him.

"Malfoy needs to be taught a lesson. I'm glad you're the one who hit him Hermione, although the lost points and detentions do suck," Harry stated at the end of her story.

"But he hurt me, and destroyed my books and ALL of my homework for the rest of the week yet I'm the one who gets punished ," Hermione said. "Doesn't that mean anything to you two?"

"Of course it sucks Hermione, and we hate that he hurt you, but there is little we can do," Harry told her gently. "Besides you already did more than we could have."

After swallowing a giant mouthful chicken Ron added, "Don't worry about it Hermione. All you have to do is explain to the teachers that there was an accident and your homework got destroyed. Everyone knows your such a bookworm you do homework the day it's assigned, and you're the biggest teacher's pet around so no one but Snape will hesitate to let you redo it."

Hermione was hurt by Ron's words and by both boys lack of caring at the fact Malfoy had attacked her. She wanted to think that it had to do with the fact that the next quidditch match was only a week away and the boys wanted to discuss strategy, but she felt in her heart that it had to do with the fact that they cared very little about her anymore.

"Anyways, you were waaay to attached to those stupid books anyways. Now maybe you can get a life," Ron added with a laugh jerking her out of her thoughts.

Hermione spent the rest of lunch not eating, or even paying attention to what anyone was saying; instead fighting the terrible headache and bouts of dizziness that kept plaguing her. When she stood up for her next class Hermione was suddenly over taken by dizziness and collapsed back into her seat again. She told Ron and Harry to go on to class, because she wasn't feeling good and was going to visit the Hospital wing. With a promise to tell Professor McGonagall were she was they left without even a backwards glance at her.

Hermione sat still for a few minutes and then slowly got out of her seat and started towards the Hospital wing. The trip took much longer than it should have and by the time she reached the doors to the wing she was pale, sweating, and very weak. Hermione stumbled into the room and collapsed on the nearest bed she could find, as Madam Pomfrey rushed over to her.

"My dear what in the world is wrong?" Pomfrey exclaimed as she reached Hermione's bed side.

Wincing at the loudness of Madam Pomfrey's voice Hermione whispered, "I hit my head earlier and now I don't feel so good." With that information out Hermione's eyes slipped shut as she finally passed out.

Sometime later Hermione woke up still in the bed at the Hospital wing. When she asked the mediwitch what had happened Madam Pomfrey explained that she had had a concussion and then rebuked Hermione for not coming to see her immediately.

"I had DADA," Hermione said as way of explanation. Upon asking Hermione found out that she had been out for hours and that it was almost the end of dinner. She also found out that in all the time she'd been there not a single person had come to check on her. Hurt by Harry and Ron's lack of interest in her well fare Hermione had to bite her cheek and look away from the mediwitch to keep from crying.

By the time Madam Pomfrey finished checking Hermione over once again, it was past dinner and Hermione headed back to her dorm. As she got close to the door of her shared dormitory she realized the it was not fully closed and she could hear voices from within.

"Have you seen Hermione?" Parvati Patil asked a distracted Lavender Brown.

"No I haven't, but why do you care?" demanded Lavender as she laid her Witch Weekly magazine down.

"She wasn't in transfiguration today, or at dinner. I was just wondering where she was," Pavati explained.

"Pff who cares?" asked Lavender. "She's probably off with her nose buried in some book. It's not like she has anything better to do with herself, she has no life."

"Lavender!" exclaimed Parvati.

"Well it's true and you know it Pav," snapped Lavender. "It's not like she has many friends or anything else to do. I swear if it weren't for her obvious intelligence she would be worthless. What few looks the girl has are ruined by that rats nest she calls hair, she hardly has any personality, and you can't forget the fact that she can't hold a conversation for longer than 5 minutes without talking about school, books, or 'some article I just read'," she mocked in a poor imitation of Hermione's voice, "She's ridiculous." With that pronouncement Lavender picked up her magazine and began reading again.

Hermione stood outside the door shocked at hearing such harsh words from her classmate, and wondering whether they were true. Deciding she didn't care to spend the evening in the same room as Lavender, Hermione rushed into the room to gather her things before heading to the prefects bathroom.

And now here she sat, alone in the swimming pool sized bathtub of the prefects bathroom, contemplating the sharp and shinning steel blade lying on the edge of the tub. She knew it was unhealthy and dangerous but she wasn't sure she cared anymore. Ever since she was 9 years old Hermione knew that physical pain could give her emotional control.

She had made this dangerous discovery in primary school when another child had been picking on her mercilessly. While trying not to cry Hermione had accidently broken her pencil and stabbed herself. This small injury had calmed her nerves and given her the ability to ignore the other child. From there on whenever she felt she was going to cry or get angry she would scratch, pinch, or bruise herself to gain control of her feelings.

When she was eleven, just before she got her Hogwarts letter, Hermione realized she could use a knife to self inflict an injury that would hurt for long than a scratch or bruise, thus giving her control for a longer amount of time. Ever since then Hermione would occasionally indulge in this dangerous habit when she was too stressed from school or fighting with the boys. Usually it only happened a couple times a year, but over the last few months the need to cut herself was felt nearly every day. She had fought hard against the odd urges that called her to the cold steel of the blade, and often she had managed to resist. The problem now was she wasn't sure she wanted to resist anymore.

Thinking back over the day, Hermione's emotions rose closer to the surface and she had to fight the tears threatening to spill over. Hermione gritted her teeth in an attempt to fight the awful emotions she so detested. "I will not cry!" she growled to herself in a harsh voice. "Only weak girls cry! Only silly fools let their emotions out in such a frivolous way," Hermione exclaimed in a frantic murmur. Yet even as she said it Hermione knew there was only one way to stop the tears. It was the only thing that had calmed her when her emotions got this strong.

"I've tried so hard," Hermione finally whispered to herself brokenly. "But why? Why does it matter when no one cares and no one ever will?" she asked the empty room as the first tears slipped down her face. Slowly her body started shaking as she fought the violent emotions threatening to overwhelm her, yet as Ron and Harry's uncaring attitudes and Lavender's harsh words filtered through her mind Hermione lost the battle with her emotions.

As the tears picked up the pace at which they were streaming down her face, Hermione inched closer to the edge of the tub where the cold steel was shining at her. Finally as the first sob escaped through her lips, she lifted herself out of the tub and grabbed the dangerously sharp blade. Knowing that this was a horrible decision, but no longer caring, Hermione laid the cool metal against her the skin of her hip, and pushing ever so slightly pulled it along her flesh. As the first drops of blood welled up in the wake of the blade the shaking in her body lessened. As Hermione repeated the action a second and a third time the tremors completely ended and the tears running down her face slowed. When she made a fourth deeper and longer mark on her flesh Hermione's tears all but stopped.

Finally she laid the now warm blade aside and watched as the blood dripped out of the flesh of her hip, onto the top of her thigh, and ran down the outer edge of her leg to pool on the tile of the floor. Starring at the rivulets of blood trailing across her flesh, Hermione's tears all but stopped and her breathing evened out. Reaching out and running a gentle finger over the deepest of the wounds Hermione gave a tiny smile at the heat of the blood seeping out of her.

Suddenly, without thinking, Hermione reached over and once again picked up the now cool blade, but this time not to hurt herself. Carefully she dipped the edge of the blade in the cooling pool of blood, and brought the blade slowly to her left arm. She traced the blade over her arm in the shape of a letter and then lowered the blade back to the pool of blood. Over and over Hermione repeated this macabre act until finally she had spelled out one single word… WORTHLESS.

Hermione sat starring at her arm in silent contemplation for a long while, until the chill from the tiles she was sitting on began to seep into her still damp skin. When she finally looked away from her arm the blood running from her hip had slowed and was beginning to thicken and congeal. Picking up her washcloth Hermione gently began to wash the blood off of her thigh and hip. The stinging pain that came with the act of cleansing the wounds made Hermione decide that she didn't want to heal the wounds with magic like she had many of the other times she had indulged in this strange addiction. She realized that she would rather allow them to heal on their own so that she would have the constant stinging pain to help keep her calm in the next few days. Realizing that this was the first step down a long and dangerous path Hermione refused to change her mind on what she wanted to do.

With that decision in mind Hermione picked up her wand and conjured a bandage large enough to cover all four wounds and a roll of muggle medical tape. She then carefully dried and covered the wounds. Eventually Hermione got dressed and prepared to leave the bathroom. Looking down at the now cooled pool of her blood, Hermione sighed and with a flick of her wand got rid of it. Finally Hermione wrapped her cold steel blade in a dry washcloth, collected the last of her things and with a whispered "Nox" left the prefects bathroom.