Heartless Acquaintance

Chapter 1 – The Morning After

With a quiet sigh, Hermione sat down on her bed. Dumping her books on the floor, she lifted her legs onto the bed, and lay on her back, gazing up at the ceiling. Last night had been pure insanity, but what had happened… Her thoughts trailed off. She couldn't remember what had happened. From the feel between her legs, she had had sexual intercourse, but she couldn't remember it. Or with whom she did it. Tears overflowing, she finally realised. She realised how; she hadn't seen her drinks before, well, drinking them. She should have paid more attention!

Undressing, Hermione slid into the shower, cool water flowing over her body. It felt good, but, she thought, she had to rid herself of this, this dirt. Dirt that someone had forced upon her. Scrubbing herself clean thoroughly, tears mingling with water, she tried to recall who had been there last night. She had no luck – she couldn't even remember where she'd been, let alone with whom. Rubbing the shampoo into her drenched hair, gratefully inhaling the pleasant, fruity fragrance, she heard something small drop, rather like a pin drop. She stopped down, and saw the small pin that had fallen out of her hair. Picking it up, she stared at it in horror.

It was a Gryffindor pin. Did this mean that…? No. They were her friends, they wouldn't do that to her. But, it was a Gryffindor pin. She'd heard frantic searching's in Harry and Ron's dormitory that morning, amidst her hangover. What if someone, or maybe even someone's, had planted this to make her think just that? It could all be a set-up, and they'd taken something of her friends to make them search frantically… No. They would have had to be a Gryffindor, to take something from their rooms. Only Gryffindor's knew the password, didn't they?

Having rinsed all the shampoo from her currently straight and sopping hair, Hermione stood up, drawing the shower curtain back, and stepped out. Wrapping a towel around herself, and knotting it at the top, she got her smaller towel. It was her favourite. A magical design, it had "Hermione" written on it, with pictures of various magical items of hers. Rubbing her hair, her thoughts came back with a bomb. Whoever done this, must hate her. Who did she know hated her? Her initial thought was Draco Malfoy and his cronies; there'd been nasty rumours about Draco abusing young girls. What if others hated her? What if they had done this out of spite, or jealously? No… even if she was intelligent, she wasn't exactly beautiful.

Wishing life was simpler; Hermione put her best towel down, and rubbed her body dry. Dressing in her favourite black robes, the ones with the silver fastenings, and the matching cloak, she brushed her wet hair. Wand in hand, she murmured a word, and the mass of damp curls sprang back to their normal, bushy self, completely dry.

If she hadn't have come here, this wouldn't have happened. But if it hadn't have happened, she wouldn't have magic, she wouldn't have met some of the best friends, or at least, she thought they were her friends, that she had ever had. Nor would she have been able to do so simple a charm as the one she had just performed. Shaking her head at her folly, Hermione put last night's clothes in the small laundry bin beside her bed, and put her wand in the invisible, internal pocket of her robes. Placing two silver clips in her hair, in a small attempt to keep it back, she stared at her tear-stained reflection.

Standing up hurriedly, she quickly left her dormitory. She'd seen something in the mirror, she didn't know who or what, it was, but it had scared her. It wasn't something of this world, or at least, dimension. Entering the Common Room, Hermione looked away from Harry and Ron's worried, penetrating stares, and slid out of the Common Room, down to the Great Hall. Grabbing some hot, buttered toast, she slipped out, and went to sit under a big, beautiful tree, on its own. If she had something she needed to think about, it was here that she would come.

And right now? She had much to think about.