Okay, everyone! First off, I don't own Harry Potter. The brilliant JK Rowling does, and boy am I jealous that I didn't think of it first. She is a genius! This is my first Harry Potter story, and I hope you all enjoy it!!! It's written in Hermione and Draco's point of view and it is rated M for language, some violence, and for later chapters. Well, here goes…

-Autumn xoxoxoxox

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Chapter One

Hermione Granger sighed as she silently gazed out the window that overlooked the school grounds of Hogwarts. Snow fell in an eerie silence. She reached up and wiped the lonely tears from her cheeks. She had been crying a lot these days.

Harry and Ron hadn't returned this year, for they were halfway across the world with other members of the Order, fighting the never ending battle against Voldemort. She had wanted to go, but Ron hadn't allowed it. She painfully remembered one of their arguments concerning the matter.

"Ron, you need me! What if-"

"You aren't going anywhere! I'm not going to risk losing you, Hermione. I'd be fucking stupid to let you go! You're safe here, as long as McGonagall and the rest of the teachers are here. They will protect you."

"Ronald Weasley., listen to me, damn it!" she screamed, tears trailing down her face. "I don't bloody care about being safe! I care about…about you! I love you!" she had wept. "I love you, you prat."

He had stared at her, tears in his own eyes. They had been together for a few months now, but neither of them had said those three words to each other. He had pulled her to him and kissed her with all his might.

Resting his forehead against hers, his bright blue eyes stared passionately into her own hazel ones. "I love you, too. More than I ever thought possible. Which is why I can't let you go, 'Mione. You mean the world to me."

"Please, stay, one more year, you and Harry both. One more year," she begged, sobbing uncontrollably, her shoulders shaking, her vision blurry from tears. "One more year, our last, together. Please."

"No. You stay here. You're the smartest witch that's been to Hogwarts in decades. Graduate. Do something with you life, Hermione." She smiled through her tears.

"I can't do it all alone, Ron. I need you with me," she murmured.

"You won't be alone. You'll have Ginny and a lot of others. I promise you wont be alone. I'll write as often as I can. I swear, I swear on my life that I will," he whispered back, tears falling from his eyes as well now.

"Please let me go,"

"No!" he said, pulling his head away from hers and griping her shoulders tightly, looking at her intently. "It's out of the question. Harry and Neville and even Lupin and Tonks agree!"

"Tonks gets to go!" She had protested.

"Tonks is a trained auror." He said softly. "You however, are not." He paused. "If you go, he will target you. He hates muggle borns. He will kill you, 'Mione. Dumbledore's gone. Harry's the best chance we've got, and…and he will use you against us. It's not a good idea."

She hung her head. He was right. Since Albus Dumbledore's death, Harry hadn't been the same. His once brilliant green eyes were sunken and hollow, with dark circles under them. His features had darkened and hardened. He barley spoke anymore, except about revenge and war strategies.

He hardly ate or slept, but instead would look through photo albums, and Hermione had walked in on him completely breaking down more than once. It killed her to see him like that. Harry had been traumatized from all he'd been through, and she couldn't do that to him.

"Ron," she had breathed, taking his freckled face in her hand and kissing him deeply. It was that night that she had decided to give herself to him, decided to personify their love.

They had collapsed onto his bed back at the burrow, entangled in each other. Hermione had felt pain as he entered her for the first time, and it really did hurt. She had cried out in pain, but in a way the physical pain was better than the emotional kind. He had been gentle, and after a while the pain faded.

The next morning, she had woken up and Ron was gone. Harry was, too. So were Fred and George.

A few days later, she was back on the train to Hogwarts, her accomplishment of being Head Girl meaning nothing. She had refused to speak to Ginny, and refused to talk to Draco Malfoy, who had become Head Boy. It had been Dumbledore's decision, one that, for reasons unknown to Hermione, Professor McGonagall had honored.

Both Draco's parents had been murdered, and he had come to the order begging forgiveness. He had had the dark mark, but with the use of veritaserum, they had found out that it was not his choice. After a while of the Order being suspicious, he had proved himself by giving them the where-a-bouts of Severus Snape, who had been the one to kill Dumbledore the previous year.

Harry had tracked him down and killed him. He didn't torture him. He simply pointed the wand at Snape's heart and Avada-ed him. Then he simply turned on his heel and walked away without ever looking back.

Harry had bit his tongue and swallowed his pride and accepted Draco's apologies for giving him the chance to kill his parent's and the closest thing he had ever had to a father's murderer.

Of course, despite this, Hermione hated him with a passion. It had been his fault Dumbledore had been in the defenseless position. He had brought the Death Eaters into Hogwarts. On top of it all, he had made her and her friends' lives complete hell for six years. She may have to share her living space with him, but as far as she was concerned the bastard was dead.

He bowed his head when she walked by, refusing to look her in the eye, and only dared speak to her if it was completely essential. And that was okay with her.

Feeling deflated, Hermione sighed again and climbed into bed.

That's where she spent most of her time lately.