It started as a dare, I swear it did, but as soon as the joke started, it just didn't stop…even when I stood in front of it to end it. All that was left was a broken version of myself. Unrecognizable.

Self-hatred. That's all I felt. For plenty of reasons obviously.

First of all, for even touching the girl and second, for letting things go out of hand. I had the power to stop it all…but I was careless. I was stupid. I'm not even sure why, who am I kidding? I knew, I just chose to try ignore it, but I couldn't…it was as if I could feel her, not physically, I mean, mentally. Like as if our emotions and feelings were visible to one another.

That's why I hated myself, because she hated me.

I wasn't the same kid as I was before the incident-confident, prideful, and handsome. I was just a miserable version of my former self, looking in the mirror practically made me sick. She probably felt the same exact way about me, and before this, I wouldn't have cared. Honestly. I would have just shrugged her off and told her to go fuck herself, while I went to fuck another girl myself.

But I couldn't. I just couldn't. The guilt was killing me inside, there was so much of what I was missing out that I knew I should have been a part of.

She was hurting and I could actually feel her pain, physically and mentally.

Our minds were one.

My head fell back, I was about to see her again. I whimpered as my view changed to an unfamiliar scene.

I rubbed my belly feeling the roundness and fullness of it. It was big. Like HUGE. I never expected this, especially at this age, just 17. Life was never supposed to happen this way, but because it did I had something called hope. Out of all the evils and terrors going on, there was still a little bit of hope left. It was in me, and I could just feel its innocence forming inside me. I still had something to fight for, and this beautiful creature inside me was just that.

I felt it move once again, I smiled ear to ear. They were in there, alive and well. I wasn't sure if it'd be a he or she, but did it matter? Definitely not. To me, it didn't even matter that the father of this child created it by force. It wasn't a happy event, in fact, it was painful.

Draco Malfoy ripped my virginity from me.

My hand stopped rubbing, and I stopped for a moment to think of the anger he caused. The pain and humiliation I endured after a couple months of finding out about this baby, almost killed me. A distant memory of an attempted suicide started to play out-NO. I shook my head. Not now.

If it weren't for him, I'd be in school, laughing, studying with my friends. I missed them, I wanted them here. I still loved them dearly. Now, I couldn't even see them…all because of fucking Draco Malfoy.

I ripped myself from the memory.

I hated myself more and more each time I went in. The pain in these visions got worse and worse each time. Her self pity became a part of me, I felt exactly what she felt. When she was happy, I was to. When she was sad, so was I.

That's the only reason I couldn't move on from what I did.

The battles inside me grew bigger and bigger each day, while her belly did the exact same thing.

It was my child. My damned child. And because Granger loved it, so did I.

I could have stopped all this from happening, back when I was okay, but I didn't. I should have and now, I was paying the consequences for ignorance. It should have been anyone else. Anyone. But it had to be her. It had to be Hermione Granger.

It was a dare…a stupid idiotic dare. I should have said no. But I didn't. A Malfoy always takes a challenge on…

And mine was to fuck a Gryffindor that night, not just any Gryffindor, it had to be Hermione Granger by any means possible. And so I did, by raping her.