Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, he and all things from the books are the property of JKR and all others concerned. I make no money from the writing of this story.

An: I had a bit of writers block and was in a particularly foul mood a few days ago so I wrote this. Not a happy story. Like I said, I wasn't in a pleasant mood and certain personal events had but the thought of death in my mind so I wrote this.

A whimper

"And then he gave me this!" Giggling resounded throughout the Gryffindor common room as Lavender Brown, flanked by her giggling friends, showed off the necklace Ron Weasley had given her. The gold gleamed brightly in the firelight, the red jewel attached to it seeming to come alive.

Across the room a lone figure sat, curled around themselves and half hidden by a large warn tome. Dull, brown eyes casually glanced over the top, staring with little interest at the group of collected girls. Hermione had always been the odd one out during her years at Hogwarts. Yes, she had made friends with Harry and Ron during their first year but as the years progressed and the fall of Voldemort passed that friendship had slowly drifted apart. Hermione always assumed her intelligence was no longer needed as the threat was gone. The girls had never included her, she had always been too smart, too bossy, too plain for their feminine games. That now included Ginny, who she had once thought of as her best female friend.

Snorting she went back to staring blankly at the page in front of her. It was funny how much life could change in such a short amount of time. Two years before she'd had friends, was the top of her class, and was as close to having a normal teenage life as Hermione thought she would ever get. Now, seventeen, friendless, and still unattractive she knew her chances at having that again were very slime. Casually turning the page she tried to keep the girlish squealing from across the room from distracting her. Honestly, it had been almost a year since Ron had given her that stupid necklace, why they were still talking about it was beyond her.

"Um, Hermione?" a voice softly asked from somewhere to her left. Glancing up Hermione saw Harry standing there, looking slightly out of place. Slipping a marker into her book she placed it aside and looked at him.

"Yes, did you need something?" she asked, her voice neither cold nor warm. He was the one, after all, that had ended their friendship, not her.

"I, um, that is I was wondering if you could help me?" he stuttered out, nervously running a hand through his hair. Trying hard not to smile at the well remembered mannerism Hermione nodded.

"Which subject?" Her question seemed to have startled him slightly because he looked at her blankly for a moment. Giving a discreet sigh she rubbed her brow. "It can't possibly be all of them, and if it is we'll have to start with a single one anyway."

Again he stared, tilting his head slightly. "Which subject?" he asked, his brow forwarding slightly.

Tempted to throttle him for taking time out of her studying she instead took a deep breath. "I'll assume potions, you were never very good with it, and I suspect that hasn't changed with time." she said, picking up her bag and riffling through it. "Here are the notes and my latest essays, please refrain from copying them verbatim, Snape hadn't gone senile the last time I checked and I do not need to get into trouble because you were too lazy to rephrase." Holding out the parchment she waited for him to take it.

After a few moments of not moving Harry lifted his gaze slightly to look at her. "You think I want to copy your homework?" he asked, seeming in someway offended by this.

Still holding out the parchment Hermione struggled not to have her temper raise. Of course she had thought he wanted to copy her notes and papers, that was all anyone ever talked to her about these days. Even Neville, who had lasted the longest at being her friend, now only talked to her when he needed help with his homework. "Yes, I assumed that you had fallen behind because of Quidditch and merely needed help catching up. Professor McGonagall has told me on numerous occasions that I was to help any of my house mates as much as possible in any way possible." she explained barely keeping the disdain from her voice as she talked about her former mentor. McGonagall hadn't paid her more then a moments passing glance since the end of the war.

Pulling out of her thought Hermione stared at Harry waiting for him to answer. "No, I haven't fallen behind." he answered, his expression lightening only slightly. Rocking back on his heels he took on a more relaxed posture. "It's Ginny's birthday in a week." Hermione simply raised an eyebrow, silently asking him to continue. "Well, she won't tell me what she wants and I was wondering if she'd mentioned anything to you. You know in passing, or during one of those 'girl's night' things that you girls do every month."

Hermione openly looked at him. Harry, who hadn't even spoken a word to her in at least four months, was asking if she knew what to get his girlfriend, who she only ever spoke to when said girlfriend needed help with schoolwork. Keeping her voice neutral she calmed her face so that it was expressionless. "If by 'girl's night' you mean tutoring then no, Ginny has mentioned nothing while I've been helping her study. Further more I'm curious as to why you would ask me of all people." Picking up her book again she flipped to the page she had been reading.

When Harry's presence did not disappear she glanced in his direction. "Is there anything else?" she asked, her voice slipping into frigid. Harry stared at her for a moment before shaking his head. Returning it she turned back to her book burying her face in it. When she glanced up again he was gone. Breathing a sigh of relief she quickly left the common room, not noticing the eyes that followed her.

The dorms were thankfully deserted, most everyone heading towards dinner. Placing her book on the stack next to her bed she sat down silently. She would have a few hours of quiet, she was the only one in the seventh year dorms that seemed to regularly skip dinner. Her room mates, hopefully, wouldn't be back fore a few hours. It didn't matter if she ate anymore anyway, it wasn't like anyone noticed that she kept getting thinner.

Pulling off her bulky sweater she grimaced at the scar that spider webbed across her stomach, a parting blow from a war that hadn't been her's to fight to begin with. Gently tracing the raised, white flesh, she allowed the tears to fall freely. Jerking back her hand she carefully folded her sweater laying it at her bedside. Picking up a piece of parchment and quill she began to write, years of feelings and events spilling onto paper.

Once she had finished with everything, four folded pieces of parchment lay next to her pillow. She had taken care of everything else earlier that day, asking Hagrid to look after Crookshanks for a few days, and slipping her letters to her professors in with the days assignments. By tomorrow morning everything would be taken care of. She didn't have to worry about her parents, when they had gone into hiding during the war they had liked Canada so much they had decided to stay. They also, seemingly, had decided they liked life without a witch for a daughter. They hadn't written to her in close to a year and a half, her holidays away from school being spent with an aunt who disliked her.

Snorting she busied herself neatening her small stack of letters. Once everything was seemingly in order she picked up a small vial from her dresser drawer. Holding it up to the light she watched as the deep green liquid with in shone emerald. It was amazing what one could come by in Knockturn Alley with a few well placed gallons. Taking out the small crystal stopper she tilted her head back and drank, her eyes fluttering shut as before she had barely moved it from her lips.

She never heard the screams as Lavender and her friends entered the dorm that night. Never felt Madame Pomphrey check her neck for any sign of a pulse. She never saw Professor Snape's disapproving look as they covered her body and took it from the room. She never smelt the lilies, her favorite flower, that they filled the Great Hall with. She never told Harry or Ron or anyone why she had to do it then and there, so close to graduation. Never explained the questions her letters left. Never told Ron why she hated that necklace of Lavender's so much. So the Lioness of Gryffindor became no more. Leaving this world with, not a roar, but a whimper.

Fins.

AN: Like I said not happy. When I first started writing this I didn't know how I was going to end this but I kinda like how it turned out. Please review!