I'm the arrow,
Shot straight to hell
From the bow of William Tell
My body lies
Kissing the ground
Like a cross turned upside down

Has life ever been perfect? That's a question I constantly ask myself.

"Hermoine, honestly," my mother says, exasperated, "I'm quite sure you haven't forgotten anything. You've been packed for days."

I know I haven't, but really, it gives me something to do for the next twenty minutes of nothingness I have before I have to leave to catch the train.

I'm not sure if I've always been so apathetic. I guess after all that I've been through with my best friends, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, I've seen what life is truly like and how humanity is so easy to cast aside and live without. I had always promised myself that I would live the fullest life, take risks, live as though it were my last day. But what if it were? How would I react if I knew the exact moment I would die? What would I do...

"Mum, I really do think we should leave now," I say barely attempting to keep my voice lively.

My mother looks deeply at me and softly nods. I wonder if she knows.

In the car, it's peacefully quiet. I know she wants me to talk; there's an air of desperation hanging in the air. I ignore it and continue to stare out the window, imagining myself in the plane flying high above me at the moment. I wonder where it's going, where those people are running to, what they are hiding from.

My mum pulls to a stop and I look over to her. She breathes deeply through her nose, what I've recognized to be her 'I-don't-want-to-cry-in-front-of-you' face. I know she loves me, and I do love her deep down. Deeper than my nightmares and deeper than the re-runs of horrible images that queerly call to me, that make me want them.

I lean over and give her a hearty hug, hoping to sure her just how much I need and love her. I hope it's not the last time, but if it is, I know she knows that she is the woman that made me who I am and that I'm thankful for her every day of my life.

Out of the car, I set my eyes on a certain platform and walk towards it focusing my hazel eyes on it's common look. If you had never been told what lies beyond it, you would never notice it, never think about it, never care.

The world that lies behind that brick is the world I was shoved into. I, constantly being pressured into proving my worthiness in this biased world, had a mixed feeling towards it. It's beauty can not be disputed, but the hate it brings and the dark things that live inside it are far from a dream.

I lean against it nonchalantly and the muggles surrounding me don't look, don't see as that world takes hold and engulfs me. I stumble a bit as I drag my trunk filled with clothes and books. A sleek, red train stretches out in front of me. I silently sigh and walk onto it, leaving my trunk for workers to put on the train. In this world, this school, I am a figure of debate. A so-called perfect person; all but the blood running through my veins. I'm the smartest, one of the bravest and now the highest ranking girl in my school. The Head Girl.

Not a huge shocker as Harry and Ron had told me. I smiled at the memory of when they found out. Their eyes widened and then cool smiles graced their faces.

"Are you telling me you're surprised, Moine?" Ron asked smugly. I shrugged.

Harry looked highly offended, "I can't believe that you, the smartest witch in the school, would think you wouldn't be given Head Girl. Not as bright as we thought, is she Ron?"

"Nope, guess not. Wow, maybe we should go Harry. Wouldn't want to be seen with a person as dull as this," he smiled and his eyes glinted with mischief.

I glared and stuck my tongue out at them. They always knew how to get me out of one of my moods. For at least a little while.

I make my way to a compartment towards the back of the train. I still haven't seen Ron or Harry yet. I feel a bit of worry enclose me. I really hope they aren't in trouble. God knows what happened last time they weren't on the train to school.

I settle down in the comfortable seat and lean my head against the side. I sigh. Another year of hard work is on the way. But somehow, I know it will be different. I know things won't be perfect as they never are. I reach inside the pocket of my gray striped hoodie that covers my black wife beater. I bring out a miniature book, a diary. I wave my wand over it, making it full-sized once again. I flip to the last empty page at the end of the book and start scrawling out my thoughts in my messy printing/cursive.

--Well, here I am. On the train waiting for the boys. Can't they ever be on time. God, they make me want to rip my hair out. Nobody really paid attention to me on the platform. I slipped through them. I guess if I don't want to be seen, I'm not. I wonder what they'll say when they see me again. "Moine, I'm so happy to see you!". I don't know how to face them. I know too much. Why did I have to find out. How am I supposed to live knowing that I'll die. Soon. Why did this happen to me? What the hell did I do?! I gave my whole life to save this fucking world and what does it do? It kills me. I'm dead already. Why doesn't it all just end now. I can't stand-

The glass door slides smoothly open and I look up from my frenzied writing. My eyes brighten and fill with suspicion at the same time.

"Harry Potter-" I try to keep my cool, "what the hell happened to your face?"

He winces and tries to look innocent, "I ran into Malfoy and he well- said some stuff that got me mad..."

I roll my eyes and sigh dramatically, "And he said what?"

"Well-er- you know how he's always talking bad about Ron's family and stuff, and I finally exploded. I just started throwing punches, cause you know, I can now," he smirks and I do agree. Through the summer, Harry had been working so hard to build his body and make himself physically able for an attack. His biceps and abs said everything.

"He got me on my back and pretty much beat the living hell out of me," he lamely fininished.

My eyes darken and I get up, "I think I'll go show Malfoy what Head Girl means, Harry. I'll be right back."

I madly throw the door open and set off towards the front of the train. There stands Draco Malfoy in all his cockiness with his two croonies on either side of him.

"Malfoy, I just happened to be Head Girl and you just happened to beat up my best friend. I think 20 points from Slytherin is pretty good, don't you?" I state with a smug look.

He matches my smirk and says, "Well it just so happens, Granger, that I am Head Boy and I do believe I was doing a favor to the whole wizarding world. I do believe Slytherin deserves 30 whole points!" He maliciously smiles.

"Don't worry, Malfoy. This year will be absolute hell with me over your shoulder watching your every move."

"No worries, I'll just have to keep lifting weights if I'm to lift you over my shoulders. You know, I think you gained a bit over the summer," he said with a fake sad shake of the head.

My eyes widened with fury and knowing that he was a little right, "Fuck you."

"Ahh, gladly."

I make a frustrated face and march back to my compartment and slam the door. Harry's raven hair is hanging over his right eye and his hoodie is laying bunched up under his head as he slept. I fume silently, trying to stay quiet.

I grab my journal once more and write furiously into it-

--I did not gain that much weight! All it did was make me more curvy, not fat or anything. Draco Malfoy and all six feet of sinewy muscle of him really gets on my nerves.

I pause.

--I'm not fat!

Do not worry, readers. I have something big to plan. I guess if you actually read the whole thing, you noticed references to death, yadda yadda. So i have that idea and clears throat I think a certain other someone has something going on too. This totally did not come out of my head the way I thought, but don't give up on this, for it won't be cliche (I can guarantee that) and it will have deep ideas.