~BRING ME TO LIFE~

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Title: ~*~BRING ME TO LIFE~*~

Pairings: Draco/Hermione mainly

Rating: R for sex (IÕll try!), language and violence

Summary: Hermione is quiet and reserved in her 7th year. Something has changed. Will Draco be the one to save her and bring her to life?

A/N This is a new story. I hope you like it. The songs throughout the story were written by me and are copy written. Please, please donÕt steal them.

Okay, there is a song, which will be in italics. There is also a little intro, also in italics. There will sometimes be dream sequences, and those will be in between lines using S~S~S~S. That is all. Read and Review!

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~0~*Chapter One- Crying out Loud*~0~

~*~Crying Out Loud~*~

Feeling sad, I didnÕt want to get up today

Feeling mad, cause IÕve got nothing to say

EveryoneÕs out to get me

And I, I don't fit in

Can't anyone see

The pain within

I'm crying out loud

But I'm silent

I'm crying out loud

But I'm silent

Feeling scared and I can't seem to breath

Feeling unprepared, this pain is too deep

No one understands me

They don't even try

No one wants to get me

It makes me wanna cry

I'm crying out loud

But I'm silent

I'm crying out loud

But I'm silent

I'm crying out loud

But I'm silent

I'm crying out loud

But I'm silent

Feeling out of place

All these people are in my face

I wish they'd all get erased

So they would stop this disgrace

Just without any trace

I feel like I'm being chased

I feel like IÕm part of a race

I can't seem to leave, it's taking hold of me

I'm crying out loud

But I'm silent

I'm crying out loud

But I'm silent

I'm crying out loud

But I'm silent

I'm crying out loud

But I'm silent

Crying out loud, ooohh, silence

Everyone's stopped to look at me and it's silent

Chorus till fade

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How could she be so cold towards them? It was like talking to a wall. No responses. No movements. Nothing. She was almost lifeless. If someone hadnÕt seen her blink once in a while they would have thought that she had surely died.

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Hermione Granger pushed her trolley gently through Kings Cross Station. She was looking at her feet, a look of loneliness plastered on her pretty, round face. Her soft brown curls fell over her features and her pale brown eyes were brimming with tears. She was completely unfazed by the world around her.

Words were rarely uttered out of her mouth and when they were spoken, they were quiet, blank and monosyllabic. She had secrets in her eyes she knew no one could divulge. She wanted to tell the world, but, when she tried to speak, the words couldnÕt and wouldnÕt come out. In a way, she was glad of this.

ÒOw!Ó HermioneÕs head looked up lazily, and just saw a black chest. She had crashed into someone and her things were all over the floor. She didnÕt make any effort to pick them up, but rather just stared at the ground.

ÒIÕm sorry.Ó She whispered. Her eyes grew teary-eyed again. She finally bent to pick up her trunk and fallen cat basket when she realized the person she had bumped into was right beside her, helping her pick up her things.

ÒThank you.Ó She said softly and smiled to herself. She hadnÕt seen who her helper was, but knew he was a male from the deeper tone in his voice when he had said ÒOwÓ. She didnÕt think he could see her either. She liked it better that way.

When they finally picked up everything off the floor, the boy put the things back on her cart and said, ÒDonÕt mention it. See you at school.Ó Hermione, still unfazed by him and the fact she still didnÕt know who he was.

ÒHermione!Ó Hermione heard a voice call her name, but she didnÕt look up and merely started walking back towards Platform 9 3/4. ÒHermione! Hermione?Ó She soon realized who the speaker was. Harry. It didnÕt want to make her fling her arms around his neck or yell his name back. Oh no. Far from it. She looked down at her feet again, the tears now freely flowing. She didnÕt want him, or anyone for that matter, to see she was crying.

ÒAre you alright?Ó Harry asked her sweetly. She didnÕt look up. ÒIÕm so happy to see you!Ó She still stared down at her black converse. ÒWe missed you over the summer.Ó Hermione noticed a pair of old, brown shoes approaching and settling next to HarryÕs trainers. Ron. She didnÕt look up. ÒWe tried to owl you. What were you doing? Were you having fun?Ó Hermione let out a stifled sob and turned on her heel and ran, not caring that she had left her trunk, full of magic supplies, in the middle of a muggle train station.

Harry and Ron stared at her retreating back. Ron looked down at her trolley and took the handle and began to wheel it and his own cart, which was not easy, through the barrier.

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Hermione made her way quietly into a compartment at the back of the train. It was empty. The way she hoped it would be. Hermione sat down next to the window and stared into the rainy, gray sky. It looked how she felt. Stormy, depressed, gloomy. She was so confused. Her summer, it had been so life altering. She couldnÕtÕ t speak to anyone about it. There was nothing to say really. She just had to keep going and hope that someone wouldnÕt ask.

ÒMind if IÉ Oh, itÕs you.Ó Draco Malfoy walked in and sat opposite Hermione. He had a look of utter disgust on his face. ÒI canÕt believe I have to share a compartment with a filthy Mudblood.Ó

ÒI know, itÕs a shame.Ó Hermione replied lazily. She looked at him. ÒWere theyÕre no other compartments free?Ó Draco looked at her for a moment, his left eyebrow raised. There was no hint of sarcasm in her voice. It wasÉ sincere. He just shook his head and got out a book from his bag. Hermione did the same. Hers was her own poetry book.

Skies outside on a rainy day

Color of my heart

And this dark mood is forever here to stay

With it, I will never part.

She looked down at this short four-line poem she had just written. Her eyes welled up again and she looked back out of the window. The storm was over and the bright sun was peeking out threw the clouds. Hermione gave a disgusted ÒUgh!Ó and shut the curtains.

ÒWhat the hell do you think youÕre doing? I was reading! God, Granger, you may be book smart, but god, you do seem so daft when youÕre not inside a classroom.Ó He looked at her, expecting an insult shot back at him, but she just shrugged. He looked at her, his eyebrow raised again. Then, he shook his head and opened the curtains. The sun was now freely pouring threw the nearly non-existent rain clouds. Hermione looked at him and then shut the curtains again.

ÒExcuse me. Book?Ó He raised the book. ÒReading!Ó He stared down at the pages and the small scribbled words he could no longer make out. Ò WhatÕs up with you and the sunlight? You were so happy when it was raining. Are you feeling okay?Ó He of course hadnÕt meant this out of concern, but more of an ÔyouÕre acting strange and IÕm in close proximity with you so IÕd like to know if youÕre dangerousÕ kind of question. Hermione took it the wrong way.

ÒEr, yes, I suppose. IÕm okay. Thank you for asking.Ó She smiled a tiny smile. ÔGod, that felt nice. I havenÕt smiled in ages.Õ Draco stared back incredulously at Hermione. She looked and seemed so different. What happened to her sunny disposition? He had never seen her happy around himself, but he noticed when she was with her friends, she was so jolly, light. Right now, she looked completely miserable. That smile made her look even more pathetic. She did have an air of innocence about her. It was alluring. But that had always been there. She had on no make up and her hair was messily falling around in loose curls around her face. She looked pretty, but it was obvious that was not the look she was going for. She looked at her hands and felt DracoÕs eyes looking intently at her.

ÒWhatÕs wrong with you?Ó He asked this blunt question. She didnÕt respond. Instead, she pulled out her poetry book and wrote:

Asking to many questions

Crying to many tears

IÕm not attempting to attain perfection

Just trying to crush my fears.

ÒWhat are you writing?Ó Again, Hermione didnÕt answer. Draco didnÕt know why he was so curious. He looked at her again. His head cocked to the side. He was waiting for a reply and wouldnÕt stop looking at her till he got one. ÒWellÉ?Ó

ÒItÕs nothing. Poetry, thatÕs all. Dunno why you care.Ó She said in a very non-chalant, bored tone. He just smiled at her. He got up and sat next to her.

ÒCan I see?Ó Draco said, motioning towards the book. He looked up at her face. He couldnÕt read her features. Her eyes had an odd, blank look about them. She sighed and shoved the book into his arms. He turned to the first page.

ÔPoetry by Hermione Mirabelle GrangerÕ

He smirked. Then flipped to the next page. It had simple lines. Quotes by famous people. He thought they were probably for inspiration. He noted these were all ÔhappyÕ quotes. He looked through ten or so pages of nice, pretty poems about flowers and peace and love. He raised an eyebrow. The next page held no quotes, just a drop in the middle of the page of something that look oddly like, ÒItÕs blood. My blood.Ó Hermione stated simply. Her tone suggested it didnÕt matter. Her carefully placed a finger over the drop and Hermione snatched the book out of his hands.

ÒNo! I canÕt believe you touched it!Ó Her tone was not anger, it was moreÉ fright. ÒOh no! Where is it?Ó Hermione was riffling through her bag. She kept letting out frustrated squeals. Draco suddenly felt his finger burn and he yelped. ÒOh no!Ó Hermione moaned. ÒOh, this is bad. Draco, you should not have touched that!Ó She finally found a small vial of purple liquid and she hurriedly unscrewed the cap. Pouring a drop on DracoÕs finger, she blew softly on it till the liquid began to dry and form a protective shield around his finger.

ÒWhat the hell happened? What is this stuff?Ó Draco asked, disgusted.

Hermione had heard his question. ÒYouÕll fall asleep soon. For the rest of the journey. Then youÕll wake up, and itÕll be gone and everything will be fineÉÓ Draco didnÕt stop to listen to what she said next. He was already falling into a deep slumber. Hermione sighed and went back to her calm self. She turned to look back out of the window. A storm was rising again.

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ÒDraco?Ó A cold voice exclaimed.

ÒYes father?Ó Draco replied, timidly.

ÒWhat did you do today?Ó Lucius Malfoy could now be seen sitting at a table with his eleven-year-old son. It was obviously dinnertime. Narcissa was sitting on the floor, eating a piece of bread. Draco looked down at her, gulped and looked back at the cold glare of his father.

ÒWell, I was at Madame MalkinÕs and I ran it to Harry Potter.Ó Draco spat the two words out not so much out of hate but more to make his father happy.

ÒAah. Mr. Potter. You mustnÕt associate with the likes of him. No, Draco. I have big plans for you. You will have no time for friends.Ó Lucius said coldly. Draco gulped and looked back at his mother. She had finished her dinner of moldy bread and cheese and was looking at her son with a look of loneliness. His eyes said it all. No friends.

ÒLucius. Let the boy have a childhood. He has the rightÉÓ Narcissa started but she was cut off with a calmÉ

ÒSilence. You will speak only when spoken to.Ó

ÒBut, Lucius, heÕs only a boy. He should be able to have friends!Ó

ÒSILENCE! What did I say?Ó Lucius got up and stood over his wife, towering above her with a look of mangled fury and amusement in his tone. ÒClearly you want what you deserve?Ó He slapped her hard. She whimpered. ÒYou should be able to stand a little pain, Narcissa.Ó He smacked her again and she bit her tongue, trying not to scream. ÒGood.Ó

Draco looked at his mother, a look of horror in his eyes. He had known his father beat his mother, but he had never witnessed it. He looked down at her quivering form.

ÒVery well father. I understand. IÕm quite tired. Do I have permission to go to bed?Ó Draco said in a strangled tone. He was struggling not to cry. His mother was crumpled in a heap the floor. He knew her frail body would not be able to stand many more beatings.

ÒIndeed, Draco. Very well. Goodnight son.Ó

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Draco woke when a hand was lightly shaking his arm. Hermione looked into his eyes anxiously. When his eyes opened fully, she pulled herself up and grabbed her backpack. With one last look out the window, she exited the compartment. Draco stared at her. All the fears of his father were returning steadily back. He had no one. His mother had died over the summer. It had not been Lucius who had killed her. It had been Narcissa herself. She had ended her own life by jumping from her room in the attic.

He hadnÕt understood why Hermione had been so scared when he had touched her blood. He should have been more scared. It was Mudblood blood. Draco had never really felt that way; his father was a very big influence in his life. Draco didnÕt know what he felt about Mudbloods. Throwing insults at them had become a habit really. It was something that came naturally.

Draco saw the compartment door close. He looked around the compartment to make sure no one was there and then down to his long-sleeved shirt and slowly lifted it up. There were bruises all along his arms. He winced as the fabric brushed up against them.

His fatherÕs beatings had to cease or he would surely one day have to be sent to the hospital. He had learnt not to react whenever his father placed the Cruciatious Curse upon him. His father insisted they were ÔtestsÕ merely to assess his strength. He usually passed with flying colors now that these beatings ad gone one for so long. Sometimes he just felt like he couldnÕt hold it in anymore. It was painful. He didnÕt think another thought towards Hermione. Yet.

Draco felt a tear threaten to escape when he grabbed his bag and left.

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A/N How do you like my new story? Please review. They make me so happy. I would be eternally grateful. IÕm down on my knees begging you please! Hey, I rhymed. How cheesy!

Grr, I keep trying to repost this stupid chapter, but all the apostrophes keep showing up as weird symbols. Ack. . .

Love Zsa Zsa

P.S. Do read my other story, ÔDangerously In LoveÕ. I love when people write big long reviews too :hint hint:.