A/N: Whoo! My first fic. I'm so proud... anyway the plot for this story came to me when I was listening to Atreyu… sigh… what a great band. You should go buy the CD if you don't have it. Don't buy it now though. Read, Review, then go and buy the CD! On with the story!!!!

Disclaimer: I don't own any Harry Potter people. I want to, but all I own is my box on the street corner. His name is Chester the Molester. J YAY CHESTER!!!!!!
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            "Hermione, dear," her mother called out to her from inside the Victorian home. "It's dark. Why don't you come inside?"
            "In a minute, mum," Hermione called back, taking a moment to pause and glance back at her mother's face in the doorway.
            "Well, do be careful, will you."
            Hermione ignored her mother's warning and took a step into the woods that decorated her backyard.  She paused again, this time to look up at the bright, full moon.     She shivered, pulling her jacket a little tighter against her body.  It was oddly cold for a summer evening, and it was foggy enough to blur the trees around her. 

            Hermione thought back to why she was searching in the woods. She had saw Crookshanks go running in there earlier, so not wanting him to get lost in the thick fog, she had went to look for him. Hermione continued walking, the whole time making sure she was still able to see the house from where she was.  She called out to her cat, cupping her hands around her mouth in hopes the sound would carry farther.  No response.  She tried again. This time she heard a rustle coming slightly to her left. She said his name again, whispering it this time. Another rustle.

            "There you are," she said, relieved, as she stepped over the bushes she heard the noise from. What she saw made her freeze.  It wasn't her cat. Oh no, it was way to big to be her cat.

            The fog seemed to get thicker as Hermione looked out of the corner of her eyes for an escape.  Seeing there was none, she looked back at the creature as it drew to its full height.  She knew it could see her perfectly; she had no doubt about that.

            It's brilliant red eyes were the only source of light left as a dark ominous cloud hung itself over the moon. A small hissing noise emitted itself from the mouth of the beast in front of her. She gasped as the creature lunged at her, sending a horrible pain through her body.

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            The 16-year-old girl shot up from her bed, sweaty and gasping for air.  Letting out an irritated groan she got up and walked across her room to the bathroom.  It was Hermione Granger's second week of her sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  She sighed to herself, turned on the faucet to her bathroom sink and splashed some cold water on her face.

            Hermione now shared living quarters with her fellow Gryffindor prefect, as well as the ones from Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin.  Dumbledore had told them earlier that year that it was to "create a bond between the houses after such hard times," as he had put it. Yes, the war was over, Voldemort was dead as possible, and the light side had won. (A/N: Sorry, but he needed to die. It didn't work with my story.)

            One problem: the school had it's own war.  Fights between the Slytherins and, well, all the other houses had become quite nasty after the war. Names like "Death Eater" and "Dirty Blood" were often exchanged in the hallway.

            As Hermione walked back to her room she thought about the dream she just had.  Ever since she came back to Hogwarts she had had the same dream at least twice a week. The strange thing was it always ended at the same part.

            As she flopped lazily back onto her bed she struggled to think. She knew one thing about her dream: it really happened. She found herself unaware of any of the events that took place during the summer. She just woke up one day in a bed in the Leaky Cauldron.  That was all she knew. Bits and pieces would sometimes flash before her eyes, never completing the puzzle.

            'I also know,' Hermione thought to herself, 'that I don't belong here. I don't know what's wrong with me, but I'll find out.' She then drifted into a not-so-peaceful sleep.

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            The next morning Hermione woke up in extreme pain. She muttered to herself, her now very long and very bushy hair in her eyes.  Trying to get up she soon found the task impossible, due to her covers entangling her body. After a moment of struggling she rolled over and hit the floor with a loud thud.

            "Hermione," came Ron's deep voice from outside the door, "are you OK?"

            "Uh… yeah." She paused, realizing he was waiting for something. She let out a sigh.  "Come in, Ron," she said flatly.

"Bloody hell," he said once he opened the door and took in her horrible appearance.  "Need help?"

"Sure, if you don't mind."

Ron rested the plate he was holding on a stand by Hermione's bed then picked her up and promptly threw her onto her bed.

"I got you breakfast," he looked at his friend's still struggling form.  "And it's Saturday," he beamed at her.

"Did you have to throw me?" Hermione finally managed to detangle herself from her sheets. Now for her hair. "I know it's Saturday."

"Sorry," Ron muttered, a bit red.

"Don't worry, and thanks for breakfast."

"No problem," he looked guilty.

"Ron, what did you do?"

"Nothing."

"Don't lie, I know that look."

He hesitated. "Well, Malfoy was starting again so I needed an excuse to get out of the room. Remember what Snape said about our argument last time? I'll lose my prefect badge. Mum will hate that." Ron shuttered.

"Do you want me to handle it?"

"NO!… Uh, I mean, no… It's quite alright, Hermione."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Honestly, Hermione, we both know that you can't handle him, he's so powerful and your so, well, not"

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

A very huffy Hermione glared, then barley able to see because of her mess of hair, she stumbled into her bathroom to get ready.

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Half an hour later, Hermione had her uniform on and her hair in a high ponytail. (Even though it still looked like she had a dead animal on her head.) She wondered out of her room and into the brightly lit common room. (A/N: use your imagination…. I don't feel like explaining.) Justin was there, reading by the fire. Ron was sulking in the corner. Draco was sitting with Pansy, who was all over him.

'What a pig,' Hermione thought, giving the two of them a scathing look.  Draco looked up from his position on the couch. "Great," Hermione muttered to herself out loud.

"Do you mind, Mudblood?" Draco regarded her coldly. "I don't enjoy being stared at."

"Don't call me that." She said it slowly, drawing out each word.

"What?" he asked her, pushing Pansy off of him and standing up off the couch. "Did you just tell me, Draco Malfoy, what t do?"

"Apparently."

He walked over to her, glaring. "I don't listen to filth like you. You are nothing do you hear me? Nothing. You don't even deserve to lick the dirt off my shoes. I would pray if I were you… having such a dirty bloodline must be so degrading."

Hermione just stood there, shocked for a moment. 'I didn't even do anything,' she thought. Her brain was screaming at her to make a witty comeback.

He laughed at her dropped jaw. "See, Granger? You can't handle me. You're too weak… and ugly."

Her face contorted and she started screaming. "What is this? Some kind of cult? I don't care what you think. I couldn't care any less about you. You're so disgusting. You try to play God, but you can't. You label people as weak, and target them for your own benefit. It makes me sick how you judge me as being weak, yet you are me. True strength comes from within, not how well you can boss others around. We were given this life to live, not to exist under some bullshit rules that you seem to think make a person worthy enough for you. And what prayers of yours were ever answered by degrading others? Spare me!  For all the people that you've hurt, and for the being you dishonor, your fall from grace will finally make me happy. And maybe when that happens you'll actually have an idea of what you're talking about!"
            With that said, Hermione spun on her heel and started off to her room. Once she safely locked her door she jumped on her bead, buried her face in her pillow and screamed.

'I'll show Ron and Malfoy… I'll show them all,' Hermione thought, turning over onto her back. Then out loud she said, "Good-bye, old Hermione Granger," and got off her bed, grabbed her wand and set to work.

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A/N: How was it? Please let me know. It's my first fic and I don't know if I like it that much. All I want is two reviews TWO! And then I'll update. Remember to be nice J  I'll even give you people a present:

( )( )

(o.o)

  (  )0  ß BUNNY!!!! That's your gift. (sorry if it didn't come out right)