The angry scars on her arms remind her of all the pain; the tiny beads of redness proudly pronouncing her hurt. She wields her wand carefully, the end a now sharp blade. Sitting in the prefects' bathroom, it wasn't that hard to lock the door, huddle behind the sink and be lost in the pain. Hermione thinks it is almost planned by the school for some poor lost soul to find salvation behind the heavy oak door, who would have thought it would be Hermione Granger.

Flashback

Hermione dashes through the halls with an incredibly childish grin on her face. The feelings she has, though, are not childish in the least. Hermione has figured out her love for Harry. His emerald eyes, raven black hair, and charm had finally won her over; the fact that he kept looking in her direction in Potions is just the thing to push Hermione to tell him her true feelings. She had turned to her potions partner, Ginny, who sat right next to her, and said, "I'm going to tell him Ginny, tonight." Ginny had been excited for her, happily telling Hermione that Harry was looking in their direction that very moment. They giggled and stole glances in his direction for the rest of the class.

Hermione fights back angry tears as she kneels on the cold bathroom floor, pushing her robe's right sleeve up revealing months of anger, pain, and abandonment. The further she pushes her sleeve up, the more red scars show up. They remind her of so much more then just her sharp wand cutting her tender skin; they remind her of the anger she feels when Harry puts his arm around Ginny. They remind her of the self pity she feels when she sees Ginny laughing at something hilarious Harry whispered in her ear. The private world they have set up around them forbids Hermione of ever being included. She is always on the outside looking in. She is always alone, lost in her own pity.

Flashback

Hermione pushes past the dinner crowd in the Great Hall, into the center of the floor. There she sees Harry also pushing into the center, towards her. This was her chance to tell him. He walks up to her, a little breathless. "Hermione I have something to say," Harry says with a small smile.

"Really? Me too." Hermione says her heart hopeful.

"Fine, but let me go first," Harry insists.

"Ok, but Harry you need to know I-" Hermione starts excitedly.

"I love her, Hermione," Harry interrupts.

"You what," Hermione asks, her heart shattering into a thousand pieces.

"I love Ginny," Harry breaks into a wide smile.

"Well…………. that's terrific," Hermione chokes out, fighting with herself to keep her tears inside.

"Ok, I told you, now what did you have to say," asks Harry, only half listening.

"Umm, I got an 'Outstanding' on my potions essay," she lies through her battle.

"Good for you Hermione," Harry says, skimming the outside crowd for Ginny. He spots her and walks towards her, leaving Hermione alone in the center of the Great Hall. Hermione allows one crystal tear to fall down her creamy white cheek. She wonders if anyone else has heard her heart shatter. The sharp pieces of it are now stuck onto everything inside her. Every breath she takes seems to stab her a hundred times over. She runs to the nearest bathroom and locks the door, sobbing until there are no more tears.

It still hurts to breathe, the broken pieces permanently glued to her insides. They have only sharpened over time, cutting everything and making ugly red scars on her organs, resembling the ones on her arms. The cutting hadn't started until the first time she saw them together. It was during dinner and the whole gang was around. Ginny had her hand on her table; Harry put his hand on hers. That small public gesture unglued something inside Hermione. After excusing herself from the table, Hermione ran to the prefects' bathroom and, again, locked the door. She hadn't planned to turn her wand into a blade, it was the anger she felt inside her that led her to whisper the spell, lamnia, and make the first mark. Over the course of the next couple months, she has made more marks, each for every time Harry shows his love for Ginny. Each time, Hermione fights to keep connected to the present. She fights her feelings from taking over; she tries to stop them from completely disconnecting her. With each move of the blade, she attempts to stay connected, but all she does is push herself away more. Tonight, she pushes the blade a little deeper, her last attempt at connection. The blade falls to the floor as Hermione crumples to the ground, her arms sprayed around her. The crimson poison seeping quickly from the fresh deep cut on her wrist. Hermione closes her eyes for the final time and whispers her last words, "I love you Harry." The crimson stain spreads onto the tile and pools around her, she is finally and completely disconnected.