One Wrong Move

Chapter 1

Ever feel so alone that it hurts? To the point where you think nothing matters? Where you don't think it's worth the living anymore? Where every criticizing word feels like its ripping the very skin off your bones? Cause it cuts deep. Really deep...


'Hurry up Hermione! You'll be late for breakfast!'

Hermione rolled over onto her side to watch the dorm room door close giving a squeaky protest. She felt sick but the Hospital Wing was out of the question. If anything it felt good. If she could feel something it made her feel human. Whether it was pain or stomach sickness it felt good to not feel like an alien like the other students made her feel. She rolled onto her back again, closed her eyes, and put on a serene completion. Why couldn't life be the way it was before? When Harry wasn't the Quidditch Captain of Gryffindor, when Ron was still stupid and funny, when Ginny was still small and innocent and everyone still thought that Luna was crazy.

Hermione's eyes shot open within seconds. Throwing the covers off her body, she dove out of her bad and ran straight for the bathroom. She threw open the toilet lid and leaned over the edge feeling her insides being ripped wall from wall and all coming out at once. After flushing, Hermione let her head fall to the seat of the toilet and wiped her mouth. She had to get out of this hell hole. It was the shits. Bing. It was like a light turned on inside her head. She knew the perfect plan to get out of Hogwarts.

Hermione jumped up running to the trunk at the foot of her bed. She threw the top open and grabbed the first pair of pants and the first blue sweater she could see and got dressed. It was late enough in the morning that everyone would be in the Great Hall for breakfast, so Hermione was able to slip out of the 7th year girl's dorm, see the common room empty and move on into the 7th year boy's dorm. She opened to door slowly a crack to see if anyone was still inside. YES! Empty. Hermione stalked towards Harry's bed and at seeing that I was still unmade she whispered, 'typical,' under her breathe and rolled her eyes. She opened the trunk at the base of Harry's bed. Opening the lid she found the objects she was in search for laying right on top. First, Harry's invisibility cloak and second, the map Harry had gotten from Dumbledore. The Marauders Map. Hermione shoved both the cloak and the map under her arm and ran from the room and into the common room.

Making sure the cloak was covering all of her body, Hermione unfolded the map in the common room and spied the passage which was looking for. The On-Eyed Witch passage way was free and clear. Not one Witch or Warlock was strayed from the Great Hall. Well not any besides the Weasley twins who were on the second floor trying to get Peeves the Poltergeist to make a racket and make Mr. Filch the Hogwarts Caretaker come running and cussing. Hermione nodded in approvement and made her way to the portrait hole.

From outside in the corridor it would have looked like the portrait was opening by itself, but Hermione was struggling with keeping the cloak from falling off and holding the map. She decided to fold it up quietly, tuck it in her shirt and then she ran, silently but swiftly down the corridors turning every which way, until she came upon the One-Eyed Witch statue. She whispered her magic and not 15 minutes after entering the passage she came up in Honeydukes cellar in Hogsmeade. Once she walked up the stairs and out the front door, Hermione closed her eyes and breathed a deep breath of fall air. She felt free. She opened her eyes again and made her way in the direction on the Shrieking Shack. She loved going there. Even if the name was… well… unusual, the place gave her a peace of mind. So ducking behind a tree, taking off the cloak and tucking it around her arms which she held across her chest, she began down the road. The light breeze blew around her sending little shivers down her neck and arms. Closing her eyes – yet again – she sighed. Why couldn't life feel like the wind? Free and easy? She opened her eyes again to find the fence between her and the Shrieking Shack just in the distance. She didn't want to go back. She knew she had to sooner or later, but for now, she just lay down on the grass on the hill nearby and dozed off with the sun on her face.

There was a soft sort of tapping around Hermione as she lay asleep in the grass. It became louder and harder and more frequent until Hermione realized that she was wet. Her eyes opened faster than they had closed and she looked up into the dark, unwelcoming sky above her and yet beyond the horizon. It was black and angry clouds drifted aimlessly in the air. The rain was freezing and pelting down so hard that it hurt Hermione's skin. At this rate she would never be able to go back through Honeydukes without getting caught. As she through the cloak around her trying to cover some of her skin, her gaze drifted over to the Shrieking Shack. Yes, of course. The passage under the Shack, lead to the base of the Womping Willow. She could get out of Hogsmeade fast enough that way.

Tripping over her own two feet and the cloak, Hermione ran to the Shack trying not to drop the cloak or the map. Lightning set the sky on fire and not 3 seconds after the thunder exploded like a million gunshots at once. She jumped at the sound and ran up the steps. She couldn't hear the screech of the door and she thrust it open and ran down the stairs inside. She wanted to get out of there. The Shack was old and even though it had made it through a billion other storms like this one, she didn't want it crashing down when she was inside it. Once she made it into the passage way. She slowed to a walk. What time was it anyway? Hermione glanced at the watch on her wrist. 3:00 pm. Shit! She had been gone for the whole day. What would everyone think? Hermione ran as fast as she could through the underground tunnel. She didn't want to be expelled. Maybe everyone would think she was in the hospital wing and maybe the hospital wing would think she was in class. It didn't matter she had to get back soon.

No sooner had she stopped for a breather, did Hermione see the end of the tunnel and hear the rhythmic creaking of the old Womping Willow above her. How long would it take for people to realize I'm gone? Hermione thought. How quick a death would it be if the Willow crushed me? Would it take one swift move to crush every bone in my body to thin chips? Would it hurt? Hermione didn't care about the pain. She didn't care if people would miss her. Her parents would be just as happy without a witch in the family, her friends – what friends? There was no purpose in living anymore. One quick smash on the Willow's part and Hermione wouldn't feel pain ever again and that sounded agreeable enough to her.

Taking a deep cleansing breathe – probably the last she'd ever take – Hermione climbed from the hole in the Willow's roots, squeezed her eyes shut tight and yelled into the black afternoon sky. The ground rumbled, shaking Hermione's very bones. The creaking of the tree grew extremely loud and next thing Hermione knew a branch about the size of an arm smashed into the back of her head sending her flying.

'What the hell are you doing?' someone yelled. 'IMOBOLUS!'

The Willow was just about to strike a very disoriented Hermione when it slowed in mid swing then to a stop. A blurry figure came running up beside Hermione. She couldn't make out who it was, all she could see was smudges of black and flashes of green and silver whenever there was a flash of lightning. Her head was aching and it pulsed with throbbing pain. A pair of arms pulled her up, cradling her to a warm, hard chest.

'The Mudblood?' questioned the green and silver streaks.

Hermione groaned in pain.

'Hold on. I'll get you out of here.'

In the stranger's arms, Hermione felt safe and warm. The arms held her close and tight. She felt as though they were the arms of an angel and they would never let her go. Never let her fall. Her Guardian Angel.

Hermione remembered everything very vaguely before the figure had brought her to this room that she was in. She remembered feeling like she was flying, levitating. She remembered rumbling wood doors, cold, wet sounding footsteps beside her, a soft word whispered, a portrait screeching, the commotion of tons of people talking, a door opening then closing, a voice telling people – invisible to her – to leave and then finally a soft mattress beneath her. Some wet material was pulled from over her face and a cold, delicate but strong hand touched her cheek.

Hermione groaned in pain, opening her eyes. She almost screamed when she saw who was sitting beside her on the bed she now lay on. She shot up only to grab her head in dizziness and pain and fall back against a pillow.

'Hi,' said Draco. Draco Malfoy had saved her. He saved her from herself, from her own stupidity. He was he Guardian Angel? Yeah right. Draco looked down onto the green and silver bed sheets, blushing ever so slightly.

'What the hell!' Hermione said very loudly.

'Keep it down,' Draco hushed her.

'Sorry. Why the hell did you save me?'

'You were trying to get yourself killed by the Womping Willow. Or were you not, 'cause that is sure as hell what it looked like to me. What was I supposed to do?' Draco got up taking off his robe which was actually his Quidditch robe.

'You hate me remember?' Hermione's voice was full of poison. 'I'm a mudblood. Don't you recall?'

'I couldn't see who you were through the dark. I was just coming back from Quidditch practice. I was cleaning stuff up so I came back later than everyone else. I saw someone in jeans and a sweater trying to kill herself. I couldn't just leave her there.'

'Maybe you shouldn't have even gotten involved,' Hermione glared.

Draco turned to look at her, rolled his eyes, turned away, took off his soaked sweater exposing his bare, pale back. He threw on a grey t-shirt and turned back to Hermione again. 'Excuse me,' he said as he strode over to the bathroom with a pair of jeans.

Once he was inside. Hermione sat up slowly, so as not to get a head rush and looked around the circular room. It contained five beds in a circle with a wood burning fireplace in the center. Draco came out of the bathroom and Hermione looked over her shoulder at him. She had never seen him look so casual before. His hair was wet and shaggy on his head and Hermione couldn't help but find him very good looking. She looked back in front of her saying, 'Thank-you. I don't know what I was thinking. I was trying to take the easy way out of things. I've made a mess out of everything I ever had.'

Draco had stopped putting his robes by the fire to dry. 'No problem,' he mumbled.

'It's just… ever since Harry and Ginny and Ron and Luna everything's been so different. No one talks to me anymore. I'm an outcast. I mean nothing. I just thought that maybe if I was gone, people wouldn't have to spend so much energy on ignoring me. I would make it easier for everyone.'

'Not for me,' Draco whispered very softly from where he sat, back to back with Hermione, on the other side of the bed.

'What?' Hermione looked over her shoulder again at him.

'Nothing,' he replied getting up off the bed. 'I should probably get you out of here so you can go back to the Gryffindor Common Room. Don't take any short cuts that may cause another suicide attempt. I won't be around this time to save your neck. You were lucky enough once but maybe not twice. '

'No.'

'What?'

'I'm not leaving.'

'What?'

'I'm not leaving until you explain what you JUST said.' Hermione got up folding her arms across her chest and staring at Draco who in turn looked very confused and slightly angry at himself. He didn't say anything.

'Well?'

'Okay, fine! I like you. A lot.'

Hermione's arms fell to her sides and her eyes grew to the size of large cherry's. 'W… what?'

'I like you. More than anything. I did know it was you. I couldn't loose you Hermione.'

'But,' Hermione was so confused, 'but you always… always call me a mud blood. Even while you were saving me.'

'I didn't like saying it. I only tried to make you think I hated you. I knew you didn't like me and with Potter and Weasley always around, I had to make them think I hated you too or else, imagine the humiliation for both of us.'

'If you would have just come out with it, people would have perceived you as human at least.'

'I know. Every time I said those things, I swear it meant nothing. I want to be with you Hermione. If it's the last thing I do, I want to be with you. Please? Give me a chance?'

Hermione didn't know what to think or say. So she acted. She took probably five steps and reached her arms around Draco's neck. Their lips met and Hermione felt a kind of magic she never knew existed. She broke away and looked up into Draco's deep blue eyes then looked away fast and let go of his neck, backing away. 'Sorry I…,' Draco's mouth was on hers again with in seconds. His hands gripped her neck holding her face on his. Her lips seemed to move perfectly with his and as his hands moved down her neck to her back and then her waist, her hands moved up to tangle themselves in his damp blonde hair. Hermione hardly knew what she was doing, all she knew was that it felt right. Draco kept kissing her so much that she was stepping backward to try and make the space between them a little greater. The back of her knee came in contact with the edge of the bed making her knees buckle. She fell backward onto Draco's bed and Draco followed right after her. Hermione pulled herself further onto the bed with her elbows and Draco still followed by crawling on his hands and knees on top of her. Hermione broke off from Draco's lips and looked up at him. 'Hi…um… I should probably go. I mean… send me an owl or something. We'll talk.'

'Hermione?'

'Yes,' Hermione stared up into his eyes. She blushed.

'Does this mean we're… you know… seeing each other?'

Hermione smiled brightly, closed her eyes, pulled his head down again and kissed him. 'I'll get back to you,' she winked.