Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, and various other publishers. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Hermione Granger had been alone her whole life. Sure, Harryand Ron appeared to be her friends, but she liked to think of them as part-time friends; they used her for publicity, and they were only around her because they had to be, not because they wanted to be. Contrary to popular belief, they never wrote to her in the summer holidays, they never came to see her, and when they were in school they sure as hell didn't hang out with her if they didn't have homework to complete. They would rather play Quidditch, and hang out with their girlfriends than spend time with the 'Know-it-all'.

Simply put, she was alone.

You would have thought that after six years of the same treatment, more if you counted the muggle schools that she had been to prior to Hogwarts, she'd have gotten used to it. But, how could you get used to it? How could you get used to being picked last, walking around by yourself, talking to yourself because you longed for the company of another without having to initiate the conversation?

The answer was six years, and Hermione was at her breaking point.

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Hermione Granger sat in the carriage to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry with her mind for company. They hadn't long set off from the station and she had been glad to be away from the questioning eyes of her parents, and everybody on the platform. For a while, she had sat watching the countryside pass before her eyes, before deciding that reading up for the year to come was a much better way to spend her time. She had just started to her seventh year's potions text when there was a knock at the carriage door; she looked up and was surprised to find Professor Severus Snape standing on the other side of it. Why was he here? She thought.

Hermione motioned for him to enter and he did. After entering the carriage, he made a customary glance around the confined space before choosing to sit down in the seat opposite Hermione. It was only when he looked up at her did he realise something different about her, and while he was trying to recognise that difference he stared at her, as though she were a particularly interesting species of flubberworm.

It was hard to resist the temptation of starting back at him. Oh, she knew he was staring at her all right. As soon as his gaze had lingered on her a little too long than normal on her, she'd known. But Hermione knew why. Over the summer holidays, she had changed. Her choice of clothing in particular had changed; she no longer wore the ill-fitting jumpers and baggy jeans many expected her to wear, no, she now wore what she was feeling. She wore clothes where the primary colour was black. Hermione felt black. Now, many people would argue that you couldn't feel 'black' but you could, she was proof of that. It was a type of sadness, depression, and desperation, all at once.

Her hair had also changed. The colour had been changed to a darker, glossier brown, she hadn't been willing to go black just yet, and her hair had been permanently straightened. She'd also had her hair trimmed and had layers put in so it framed her face better than the big ball of frizz previously had. As for today's wardrobe, Hermione had chosen to wear a black top with sleeves that came down to her wrists and flared out slightly and she also wore a short black denim skirt with black ballet flats. Her nails had been painted black, charmed so they wouldn't chip, and a silver pendant with an emerald gem hung around her neck. The pendant was an important part of her, something that she would cherish for the rest of her short life, then bury.

"Miss Granger?"

He almost didn't recognise her. He had walked through the whole train looking for her before realising that he had already passed her, twice.

"Yes?" she questioned.

She had yet to look up from the book that she was reading, not fazed by the fact that her Potions Professor was sitting across from her.

"I would have expected you to be in the same carriage as Potter or Weasley?"

Her head snapped up from the book that she had been so interested in, only to shoot him one of his own withering glares.

"Obviously, sir, you are mistaken," she snarled, with as much venom as she could muster. "Potter and Weasley are no friends of mine."

After that final statement, she succumbed once again back to the land of knowledge. Had any student passed their carriage they would have fainted from shock at the sight before them; the dreaded potions master's mouth hung open like a gaping fish waiting for flies.

The Golden Trio not as golden as appearances made out then, he mused.

"Really, Miss Granger," he started, but stopped when he saw her flinch.

The girl in question looked up at him, but he cleared his throat and carried on, "Lovers tiff?"

Her gaze turned murderous and for once in his life, he was scared of eighteen-year-old girl.

"Someone once said, Professor, that if you have nothing nice to say," She slammed the potions text she was currently holding in her hands shut, got up and made her way towards the door. However, before she left Hermione turned back around to face him and yelled, "Don't say it at all!" The door was shut with so much force he was surprised the glass didn't break, although after letting his brain run off on a tangent, he realised that the doors would have been charmed so that they were unbreakable due to unruly first years.

At last, he had the carriage to himself. He felt a small tug on his heart about the way he had treated her, but brushed the feeling off as smug satisfaction.

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After their little tête à tête, Hermione made her way towards the direction of the toilets, determined not to let her Professors words get to her. As she got nearer to her destination she saw that it was engaged and swore, she desperately needed to be alone.

She could hear voices coming closer and closer, voices that sounded strangely enough like Potter and Weasley. Hermione was confused as to why they were down here; this was strictly Slytherin territory - not that it stopped her. At the end of last year, she had befriended Draco Malfoy and they had become quite good friends, but Potter and Weasley were not welcomed by anyone in Slytherin House, if seen by someone from Slytherin, they would be hexed.

She looked around for the nearest empty compartment but found none except for the one two doors away, the one that she had just come out of which was currently occupied by Snape. After having an internal debate on whether she'd rather be physically faced with Snape again than come face to face with them before it was necessary to do so, she made a quick dash for the compartment that she had just left, and once again slammed the door shut.

"Miss Granger, what a surprise to see you back here so soon!"