Summary: I'm not good with these, so how about a scene from later chap? ~*Fluffy*~ "If you were a flower, you would be a rose," he said softly and lay the beautiful rose in her lap. "...the symbol of all things beautiful." Then, he started leaning in slowly, and Hermione's eyes fluttered closed. "No man is worth the tears of a rose," he whispered, just before their lips met.

A/N: This was my friend's fic first. She started posting it under another name, but stopped. She and I came up with some more ideas for it, but she didn't want to continue it, so I am. Here goes...

One more thing: This fic is very ~*Fluffy*~. It IS going to be D+H, but it'll take time. They can't just immediately fall in love. Unless I get impatient...

Disclaimer: I don't own anything or any of the characters, except for Ashlan Albany and Nicholas Welling.

~*~The Tears of a Rose~*~

Chapter 1: Encyclopedia Granger

~HERMIONE~

A girl the age of 17 leaned back against her seat on board the Hogwarts Express. She didn't notice the people giggling, talking, or running down the corridors. And she didn't notice the fields, houses, and lakes dashing by the windows. For she was completely wrapped up in the book that was in her hands, called 'Cages of Glass, Flowers of Time.' It was quite a depressing story really, but she was hooked. Just like she always got hooked to every book she read...

Her friends thought she was weird, because she absolutely loved books. Taking away her books would be like taking away her very breath. And everyone knows what that'll do to a person. They were like a vital substance that her brain needed and longed for. She didn't know what it was about them, but she had been that way towards them ever since she first learned to read. The smell of them, the way the pages sounded when they turned; everything about them was wonderful.  

The girl's name was Hermione Marie Granger. She was no normal girl...in fact, she was as 'un-normal' as one could possibly be. She was a witch, and a brilliant one at that. She was riding the train to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for her seventh and last year as a student there. And she was best friends with Harry Potter himself. Yes, THE Harry Potter.

The door to her compartment opened and she finally looked up from the book. Two boys stood there, both of their arms filled with all sorts of sweets and treats. One of them had jet black hair, bright green eyes, and was about 5'10. His glasses were sliding down to the tip of his nose, probably due to sweat. He was Harry Potter. The other boy was quiet a bit taller than he. He had shocking red hair, quite a large nose, and a cheesy grin was spread across his face. His name was Ronald Weasley (Ron for short.)

And people think I actually like him as a boyfriend...

Now, don't get her wrong or anything, she loved him as a friend, but people had been trying to get them together ever since their sixth year and that just wasn't going to happen as long as SHE was in charge.

"Look at all of the candy Harry got us," Ron said, taking a seat across from her. Harry sat beside him.

"Your teeth are going to rot out, Ron, with all of the candy you eat. Especially if you've never had your teeth professionally cleaned." He simply snorted and began opened a chocolate frog. Hermione returned to reading.

"I still can't believe you turned down the Head Girl position," Harry said, causing her train of thought to drift. She looked back up at him and shrugged.

"I have more important things to do with my time," she said simply.

"An' wha' wuld tat be'?" Ron asked through a mouthful of chocolate.

"Don't talk with your mouth full," Hermione scolded before answering. She shrugged. "I have a life, you know." To tell the truth, it was mostly because she was tired of being acknowledged simply because of her grades. She was tired of people expecting that everything she do be perfect. It was merely an act of rebellion, she thought.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Hermione, all you ever do is read. Not much of a life. There are more important things in life, you know. You should get out………party every now and then."

"And just why would I want to waste my time dancing like an idiot, making out with a complete stranger and catching Mono, or getting drunk?" she snapped.

Ron swallowed the last bite of his food. "First off, dancing is not a waste of time. Second, you probably aren't going to catch Mono. And third, what does partying have to do with getting drunk? Not all parties have beer involved." He shook his head. "I swear 'Mione, you're too much of a-"

"Too much of a WHAT Ron? Goody good? Perfectionist? Well I'm not as perfect as everyone may think!" And with that, exited the room, leaving them both behind with blank looks upon their faces.


~*~*~

Hermione entered the girls' bathroom and quickly slipped her robes on. When she was finished, she headed back to the compartment. But just her luck, she ran into someone (not literally) that she most certainly didn't want to see. A boy of about 6 feet with pale blond hair, pale skin, and deep blue eyes stepped in front of her from one of the compartments. Now, by the sound of his looks, you'd think any girl would be happy to see this hunk, but not Hermione. For she had been sworn enemies with this boy ever since her first year. He was Draco Malfoy, Prince of Slytherin. He was hated by many, loved by few. In short, only the Slytherins got along with him, because most of them were just as evil as he was.

"Well if it isn't the Mudblood, Encyclopedia Granger," he sneered with an evil smirk.

Hermione glared at him. "Move, Malfoy, I don't feel like putting up with your crap right now." She brushed a curl from her face.

He raised his eyebrows, completely ignoring her request. "Looks like the goody-good finally got rid of the frizz. And is that make-up I see?" As a matter of fact, Hermione's mother had taken her out for a make-over for her seventeenth birthday. Well, more like, Hermione had talked her into it. She practically got down on her knees. "I WOULD approve, but it doesn't make YOU look any better, Granger. You can still see the filth." She raised her arm and reared back to slap him, but he was quicker and caught her by the wrist when she was only inches away from his face. "Now, now, Mudblood. Let's not get touchy. Wouldn't ant your germs on me would we?"

Hermione snorted and nodded towards her wrist, which he was still holding. "Well then, I guess you'd best go wash your hands, Draco Dear, because you're touching me." He released her hand as though her skin had burned him and darted past her, careful not to touch her anymore, but not before giving her one last glare. Hermione noticed that he wasn't sporting a Head Boy badge.

~*~*~

After getting off the train, riding in a bumpy carriage, and entering a pair of large oak doors, Hermione followed the mob of students into the Great Hall. The fours tables were decorated with the usual and there were thousands of floating candles for light. (With the help, of course, from the stars above them, which were glowing on the enchanted ceiling.) Hermione seated herself in between Parvati Patil and Neville Longbottom, two fellow seventh years, and across from Harry and Ron.

"Hi, Hermione," Parvati said smiling. "I love what you've done with your hair."

"Thanks," Hermione replied. "Mum took me to a salon for some tips on taming it. A few simple muggle products do the trick." Parvati nodded interestedly. Hermione and Parvati had never really been the best of friends, but over the past year they had gotten closer. Lavender Brown, Parvati's 'x-best friend', had gone through a disturbing sort of change over the summer after their fifth year.

She hung around with an odd group of kids, and they all wore black. Even on their lips and finger nails. They tended to frighten Parvati, but Hermione had tried to explain to her that it was just their way of expressing themselves. She wouldn't personally choose to express herself that way (black looked horrible on her) but she didn't see anything wrong with it. Actually, allot of the people who dressed like that had been involved in some sort of drama, at least that's what her mother said.

When the hall was filled with chattering students, the doors reopened and Professor McGonagall, their strictest teacher and Deputy Headmistress, entered carrying a three-legged stool and a worn out hat. All went quiet. A long line of nervous-looking first years followed her in single file. Hermione couldn't help but smile at the scared looks on their faces. She remembered her first day at Hogwarts. She had been much more nervous than she had let on. Acting was another small talent that she possessed, and it had come in handy in many situations.

Professor McGonagall stopped in front of the High Table and placed the hat upon the stool. A brim in the hat opened and it burst into song.

When it finished, she pulled a parchment from her cloak and unrolled it. "When I call your name, you will seat yourself on the stool, I will place the Sorting Hat on your head, and you will be sorted into one of the fours houses of Hogwarts: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, or Slytherin." She looked down at the list. "Arnold, Timothy!" A small boy with light brown hair approached the stool and nervously sat down. She placed the hat on his head, and he was sorted into Ravenclaw.

"Albany, Ashlan!"

Hermione watched as a small girl with long blond hair walked up to the stool and sat down. She HAD to be the smallest 11 year-old Hermione had ever seen; she looked to be nothing but mere skin and bone. McGonagall placed the hat on her head and seconds later, it yelled, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Hermione cheered along with the other Gryffindors and Brianna rushed over to the table. She sat down in the seat next to Hermione, but didn't look up at anyone; she merely watched the rest of the first years get sorted.

~DRACO~

Draco Malfoy, also the age of seventeen, glared evilly at the line of little first years that were waiting to be sorted; one of them let out a small shriek and hid behind another and his smirk widened.

"SLYTHERIN!" the hat shouted through the Great Hall and Draco turned his attention back up to the front. A small boy with brown hair was making his way towards their table with a sneer.

"Bloody first year," Draco mumbled under his breath and continued to glare around the room. The Mudblood was propped on hr elbow, and she was staring blankly at the ceiling, while the duo was discussing something animatedly; by the movements of their hands, Draco guessed it to be Quidditch, not that he cared or anything. When his eyes drifted back over to Granger, he noticed that she wasn't wearing a Head Girl badge………

During the summer, he had received a letter, presenting him with the privilege of being Head Boy, but the Heads from the previous year had had to share a common room. He didn't think he'd be able to handle living with that filth. She'd get her germs all over everything. Draco shuddered just as Professor McGonagall called up the final first year to be sorted. He let his eyes drift back up to the front.

"RAVENCLAW!" the hat shouted almost as soon as it was sat upon the boy's head. A loud applause echoed through the hall and a few people even whistled. Draco merely crossed his arms over his chest, as did most of the other Slytherins.

When everyone was seated, Dumbledore got to his feet, beaming down at them all with that familiar twinkle in his eyes. "Welcome," he said loudly, "to another year at Hogwarts! Now, I have an announcement to make, but first, I have a few rules to get straight. First years note that the Forbidden Forest is STRICTLY forbidden. And everyone keep in mind while walking through the left wing corridor on the fourth floor, that we have a visitor. It seems as though our former Poltergeist, Peeves, has sent along a friend to stay with us for a while. Make sure to cover your head in that corridor. He tends to throw Busmboozles at the passer-bys."

A few people laughed. Busmboozles were a sort of bomb; the insides consisted of bat dung, a mixture of owl spit, and the warts of a toad. It wasn't necessarily harmful when it exploded, but it left the victim smelling horrible for up to a week. The Weasley twins were of course the ones who invented them……… "Next, I would like to introduce this year's Head Boy and Girl." Draco scowled. "Miss Hannah Abbot and Mr. Terry Boot!" A burst of applause rang through the hall.

"Now, on to my announcement," Dumbledore announced loudly, causing everyone to go quiet again. "As those of you who were here last year know, the Sorting Hat sent us a 'unique' message at the Welcome Feast. It has come to my, and the other teachers' attention, that something must be done about it. These are dark times, and house rivalries are not needed………" He looked around at them all with a serious expression and Draco snorted. A few people from the other houses glared at him but the Slytherins laughed.

Dumbledore continued on as though there had been no interruption. "So, the other teachers and I have come to a conclusion. You will be divided into……… slightly 'smaller' divisions, and you will have your own common room with those in your division." Several people exchanged curious glances. "There will be four people in each division; one person from each house." There was a break out of objections.

"The old coot's gone mad!" Draco declared with his eyebrows raised, but hardly anyone heard him; for everyone was talking at once.

"SILENCE!" Dumbledore shouted. Every head in the Hall turned back to him. A few of the first years had frightened looks upon their faces. "As I said," he continued, bringing his voice back down, "There will be four people in your division. The years may vary; your division mates may be from first year while you are in seventh, but it is no matter. You will dine with these people, live with these people, and get to know these people. But most importantly, you will befriend these people. They will be your family for the rest of the year."

He looked from each table to the next. "Your divisions will be assigned after the feast. Everyone meet in the library when you are finished." He raised his hands up, and with one swift motion, all of the plates and goblets were filled. Dumbledore's cheery tone returned. "Let the feast begin!"

There usually would have been the sound of plates clattering and spoons scraping them. But there was merely a shocked silence as everyone stared around the room at one another.

Slowly but surely, people began talking again; not hardly a soul touched their plates though.

"He's REALLY fallen off his rocker now," Pansy Parkinson said in a disgusted tone.

"One person from EACH house?" Blaise Zabini put in. "That means we'll be living with a bloody Gryffindor!"

"I'd like to see him MAKE me live with one!" Draco added, slamming his fist on the table.

~HERMIONE~

A similar reaction was going on at the Gryffindor Table.

"This has GOT to be a joke!" Ron Weasley shouted to the other seventh years at their table. "It's GOT to………I must be dreaming! Someone pinch me!"

Harry had his hands in his head. Hermione rolled her eyes. "Ron, you're not dreaming," he said in a bossy tone and began piling food onto her plate.

Ron stared at her in disbelief. "How can you be calm??? WE'RE GOING TO BE LIVING WITH SLYTHERINS."

"I kn-"

"Cut it out, will you?!" Harry snapped angrily. Both of them turned to look at him. His head was no longer in his hands and he was looking at them with one of those 'I'm-not-in-the-mood-to-hear-you' looks plastered on his face.

The three ate the rest of their meal in silence, all dreading going into the library after dinner.

A/N: R/R! The next chapter is halfway finished! If I get enough reviews, I'll update 2morrow.