I do not own Harry Potter, but I sure wish I did. All of these places, settings, and people belong to JK Rowling.

Thoughts are Italicized, dialogue is Italicized.

Draco POV

The pang of guilt hit me, as it had several times before. My pale hand clutches at the knife as if it was a life force, the blood staining my hands, proof of the failure I am. I raise the knife and stare at my reflection in it's blinding blade. My handsome face is mangled with healing scars, old and new. But none compare to the scars on my heart, the scars of Voldemort, whose dark ways slowly stained my pureness. I recall the lazy days of childhood, when old pureblood standards seemed only a joke. I suddenly regret calling Granger a mudblood. The name itself is stained, stained with evil. Granger was not evil: Granger is not evil. I am. I sink down on the dead grass. What thoughts posses my mind now. Why is Granger suddenly in my thoughts? A flashback from the Yule ball. I recall in clarity, the becoming dress Granger wore, her grace on the dance floor, her grace in life. I long for that grace; that freedom. Yet it is gone. What hadn't Voldemort taken from me? What more is left salvaged? My eyes bore into my left arm. Littered with cuts, the dark mark remains unwavering. The darkness is permanent. There is no getting rid of it. I don't think I can stand to be discriminated for the rest of my life. It is a petty reason, seeing that I deserve it the most. My gaze fastens onto the knife once more. I raise it high over my left arm, just underneath the elbow. My arms are shaking, and tears pour from my eyes and drip down my forearm. There is no going back. A silver flash of the knife as I bring it down, and the world dissolves into pure nothing.

Hermione POV

Steam rolls from the Hogwarts Express, the entire station covered with young witches and wizards like ants on an anthill. After receiving news of Hogwart's reopening, almost everyone who missed school during Voldemort's devastating rule had returned to redo their year and continue their magical schooling. Even us, the Golden trio, who's scars are deepest, have come to make new memories at Hogwarts. Harry Potter stares mournfully at the platform. Although the crowd of students is ever so full, he recognizes several faces being absent, faces that won't be seen again. He notices that most of the Slytherins were missing as well, the product of their forced loyalty to the dark lord. I lightly place my hand on Harry's shoulder,

"Harry?" I ask softly in precaution, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah. I'm fine. Just fine", he says abruptly.

He takes his trunk in a hand and hoists it into the train. He gives a hand to me as well, as everyone cries their last goodbyes. Falling behind Harry, I glance at the mob of students and parents. Many a face has a myriad of scars, a few missing a body part or two. I snap out of my depressed state and call out.

"Are you coming Ronald?"

Ron heaves his trunk as he gives a last reassuring hug to a tearful Molly. I feel for her, Fred's death hadn't been long ago, and all of her children were grown up and gone. Only little Teddy keeps her company on the weekdays, when Arthur is busy at work. Oh that's right. I didn't tell you. Poor Andromeda suffered from depression after finding out the death of her daughter and son-in-law. She is residing at St. Mungo's, making a slow recovery. Harry would assume custody of Teddy when he receives his Hogwarts diploma, for poor Andromeda wouldn't be able to go about taking care of a rambunctious toddler. But for now, Molly had solace. The clock struck eleven and the last doors of the train are closed shut. Another roll of steam and the train moves out of the station and into the vast country-side. I quickly settle into a compartment with Harry. Ron feeling a bit more boisterous goes off to a compartment with Ginny, Neville, Luna, and a few other Gryffindors who had survived the year. Harry and I sit silent for the first three hours of the ride, his eyes staring unwavering at the window. Time seems stagnant as I speed read through a few muggle classics. Around a few hours later I decide it is about time to head to the prefect meeting. After all, I am the appointed Head Girl this year. I see Neville and Padma Patil walking towards the compartment where we are to meet. I caught up with them only as much to hear snippets of their conversation.

"Have you heard? Of all the seventh years, Professor McGonagall chose Malfoy for Head Boy! I thought that Harry was a shoe-in for the job," Padma exclaims to Neville. He gives a pained expression.

"Yes… I believe that's so," he murmurs back.

I stop in my tracks. Malfoy is head boy. I am head girl. After everything I have been through, I am being paired up with the person who made my childhood hell? I stand frozen at the entrance to the prefect compartment as people filter past me. Thoughts run at a lightning pace through my head. How am I going to face him in the meeting? Will he be civil to me? I shake off the worry and compose myself and enter the compartment with my head held regally high. The prefects are already sitting and chattering to each other. As I take my place at the head of everyone, my regal pose crumbles. Malfoy is nowhere in sight. I smile with a newfound confidence.

"Hello everyone, and welcome to the prefect committee, I am your head girl, Hermione Granger. Also, welcome to a new year at Hogwarts, one which we will make hopefully better. Let's get started", I say to the scarred, yet eager faces of the students in front of me. I hope for the best.

The meeting commences and many of the new and old prefects give it their all to give their full attention to me as we rule out new ideas for this year. Some Hufflepuff prefects already suggested several dances and school wide events to distract the students from the sadness that lingers around the castle. Many of us know that most of the castle has been rebuilt and modified, and that we were going to face something cold and unfriendly after years of seeing the same enchanting buildings. The warmth has seeped out of our hearts and uncertainty has taken it's place. I have to make sure that doesn't happen. I am going to make the students feel as welcome as humanely possible, no matter what they have done in the past. I have a new goal, and will not rest until it is complete. My stride quickens as I make my way back to my compartment. There is no going back.

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