A/N: Bold is Draco's flashbacks and italic is Hermione's dreams.

Two Tears 'til Insanity

By True Distortion

Chapter One: Train Ride

Hermione boarded the train, pulling her coat tight around her and shifting her eyes around fearfully, as if someone was going to jump out and attack her.

She had changed over the summer. Her hair had been styled straight and was a tad darker. Her eyes were filled with sadness and now seemed a duller brown, like the eyes of an old woman whose life was filled with tragedy. She had become unhealthily pale and thin, and her cheekbones jutted out just above her lips.

And still, anyone could have said that she was more beautiful than ever.

Hermione dragged her trunk along, stumbling through the crowds of students, over to the Head compartment. She had not been the least bit excited or surprised when she received the letter claiming that she had earned the Head Girl position. In fact, she had considered it another burden that might bring her to an early grave.

Sliding the door open, Hermione sighed in relief that the Head Boy, whoever he was, hadn't arrived yet. With her frail arms, she tried her best to push her trunk up to the rack above the seats. Her right hand slipped and she waited for the trunk to fall on top of her.

Hermione's eyes snapped open as the weight was lifted off her fingers and she was met, face to face, with Draco Malfoy and his infamous (not to mention, aggravating) smirk.

"I was going to say being thin was a nice change," he sneered as he pushed the trunk up, "but you might need those extra pounds."

She scowled but mumbled a small, "Thank you," before sitting down opposite of him.

Slowly, without warning, Hermione drifted to sleep.

"What if it all goes wrong?"

"Are you questioning my methods?"

"No, my Lord, I'm sorry."

"She will be a killer. It cannot be helped."

"The shaking has started again, my Lord!"

"Very well, bring the blood."

"She just started shaking, professor," Draco's voice came from somewhere above her.

Still startled from the dream, Hermione fell from the seat that she was placed on and scrambled into the corner of the compartment. She started to furiously pull at the top of her right arm as if there was something there that shouldn't be.

"The blood, it doesn't belong," she rambled. "I won't, I can't, no! Stop! I'm sorry!"

Professor McGonagall rushed to Hermione's side and gently patted her back.

"There, there," she whispered soothingly. "It's just me. No one's trying to hurt you."

The professor's eye raised slowly to Draco's who looked back utterly confused and, surprisingly, worried. Together, they lifted her back onto the seat. The professor conjured up a thick blanket and wrapped it around Hermione.

"Mr. Malfoy," she said straightening her back, "may I have a word with you outside?"

Draco followed her outside and they slowly slid the door shut.

"Because of this..." she coughed, "misfortune, I expect you to be the one to take care of Ms. Granger."

"Why don't Potter and Weasley…"

"Ms. Granger has severed all ties with them for reasons that I cannot think of. So you will do it. Understood?"

"Yes, professor."

"Give her this," she dropped a small wrapped chocolate into his hand before disapparating off of the train.

With a sigh, Draco made his way back into the compartment and slid the door shut. He found Hermione with her arms wrapped around her knees nervously, rocking back and forth.

"Here," he held out the chocolate to her.

Hermione gave one glance at it and shook her head.

"Chocolate can't help. Nothing, nobody can help now."

Once again sighing, he dropped the chocolate back into his pocket and sat down. He watched her with the most curious expression.

Every time the train reached a small bump or a loud sound was heard, she would whip her head toward it. As if she was scared that something was coming.

Her hair draped over her face like a curtain and shadowed her eyes. She bit her lip so hard that Draco was afraid that she might bite through it.

"You're not supposed to be here, you know."

He looked over to her. Her hair was wet and slightly curled. Chains were draped over the rag that dared call itself clothing. She was so hidden in the shadows that you couldn't see any part of her face.

"I never listen to my father. How did you know that anyways?"

"Taking away sight gives you enhanced hearing," she whispered. "But they don't know. They don't study anything muggle."

"Well, I thought I'd bring you some decent food," he slid a plate of chicken and bread to her as he sat down and leaned against the bars of her cell.

'It can't be her,' he thought. 'Can it?'