Disclaimer: I wish I owned Harry Potter. But nope. That right is reserved for J.K. Rowling.
AN: This is my first ever fanfic, so please don't judge to harshly. I know the characters are a bit OOC. I also know that not everything makes sense right now, but I'm going to tie everything together eventually.
Chapter 2
Well no one's died yet. There had been a mass scramble for the weapons when Professor Tanner let us pick them. I picked out a nice sword, that seemed to weigh perfectly in my hand, and was about three feet long. Once everyone picked out their weapons, we were grouped together with people who picked the same type of weapon as us. Diane and Tracey were grouped with me. There was two Ravenclaws, and one Hufflepuff. From Gryffindor, there was Dean Thomas, Neville Longbottom, and Parvati Patil. Then he showed up. Malfoy just had to pick out a sword didn't he? Hmmm, maybe I'll be able to kick his arse in sword fighting. If I'm even good. Professor Tanner came by, and showed us how to do a simple strike, and how to block. He then told us to pair up. I ended up facing off against Pavarti. I struck quickly, and she barely managed to block it. "Hey, please go easy on me!" I sigh, then nod. Then she attempts to slice my thigh, which I block easily. Damn, I'm actually pretty good at this. I glance around, and notice most people have taken off their robes, and rolled up their sleeves. I shrug off my robes, but leave my sleeves down. Ever since I was tortured by Bellatrix, and she carved the word Mudblood onto my arm, I've avoided short sleeves, and rolling my sleeves up. Parvati and I continue sparring, until Professor Tanner tells everyone on Pavarti's side to move down one. I notice that my sleeve has moved up a bit, and I could see a bit of my scar. I pull it back down, and when I look up, Malfoy is standing across from me, sword in hand. Well fuck, looks like I have a chance to beat him today. I strike quickly, aiming for his shoulder. After all, I don't want to kill him. He blocks it, then grins at me. "Careful there Granger. You're outmatched her. Wouldn't want to make you look weak in front of all your little friends." He taunts. I snap. I have been putting up with his taunts for eight years, and I refuse to do it anymore. Ever since Ron called me weak, I've hated the word. Even if I agree with him. I swing my sword as hard as I can. He blocks it, and I strike again. I strike harder and quicker each time, until he isn't able to block, and I slice his shoulder. He doesn't even flinch as blood slowly begins seeping through his shirt. "Good job Granger." He says quietly, then pulls his wand out and heals himself. I push my hair, which has become a lot more tame over the years, out of my face. "Good job? Seriously? I cut you!" He shrugs. "I've had a hell of a lot worse." What is that supposed to mean? I look at him questioningly, and he sighs. "You can't double cross Voldemort, and get away with it without a scratch." Oh god. He was tortured wasn't he? Before I can say anything, Harry beckons me from over where he and Ron are working with knives. I take one last glance at Malfoy, who's staring right back, then I walk over to Harry. "What was that about?" He asks. "Bloody Malfoy told me he didn't want to make me look weak in front of my friends. It really pissed me off, so I went at him, until I actually sliced his shoulder." Harry raises his eyebrows at me, but doesn't say anything. Unfortunately Ron does. "Well he was right to say that. I mean, you are pretty weak." This is the first thing he's said to me in weeks. I slowly turn to face him, and I know that if looks could kill, he'd be dead. "Excuse me? I'm weak? I'm the one who saved your sorry arse hundreds of times over the years. I'm the one who would give up my food for you when we were on the run, since you wouldn't stop complaining. I didn't run back home when it got to hard for me. I'm the one who obliviated my fucking parents to protect them! You know I can't get them back? Their memories are gone forever. I'm the one who was fucking tortured by bloody Bellatrix Lestrange." I roughly pull my sleeve up and wave my arm in front of him. "I'm the one who you almost hit. But you told me I'm too weak to take a bloody slap." I heard Harry's sharp intake of breath when I said that, but all my attention was on Ron. I hadn't realized, but I had slowly been moving closer to him, and we were now not even a foot apart. "I am not weak." I push him away from me. I was so caught up in the moment, I forgot about his temper. And his knife. The next second, he yells, and I see his hand move out of the corner of my eye. Then I feel searing pain on my cheek. I feel liquid begin to drip down my face. But I don't flinch. In fact, I don't move a muscle. Because for some reason, I'm savouring the pain. It hurts like hell, yet I almost… like it? Before I can do anything, I hear Professor Tanner. "Oh Ms. Granger! You're bleeding! Well that's to be expected in this type of defence class. Off to the Hospital Wing please." I slowly nod, and start walking towards the castle. I have no plans of going to the Hospital Wing though. I look behind me, just once. When I do, I immediately make eye contact with those damn grey eyes. I instantly know. He saw the whole fucking thing.
I lie in bed hoping for sleep. I healed my cheek a couple hours ago, after I had examined it in the mirror. I skipped the rest of my lessons today, and spent the day curled up in my bed, trying to figure out how my life got so fucked up. It had definitely started to go downhill when I obliviated my parents. Watching as I was erased from their lives hurt more then I had ever imagined. Then being tortured by Bellatrix. I'll never forget how much pain I was in. I would've rathered she just killed me. I'll also never forget how terrified I was when Fenrir Greyback almost got to have his way with me. I'm pretty sure the only thing that stopped him from raping me right there, was Narcissa Malfoy. She had said that she couldn't watch a young girl be raped, mudblood or not. I admit I'm grateful she spoke up, though I'll never tell anyone that. Watching so many of my friends die in the war had taken it's toll on me also. Lavender Brown's pale, blood covered face still occupies my thoughts often enough. Then of course everything with Ron. Fuck, no wonder I've become so depressed. Honestly, today has pushed me to the edge. At this point, I'd rather die than continue living this way. I feel tears begin to form in my eyes, and cast a nonverbal Silencing charm around my bed. Then I just let it out. I begin sobbing. For the first time in a long time, I'm allowing myself to crying. I sob until I have no more tears left. Then I just sit there, gasping as I try to steady my breathing. At least now I'm tired. Crying takes a lot out of someone. I wipe my eyes repeatedly, then roll onto my side, and wrap my blankets tightly around myself. I fall asleep. Unfortunately, I can't escape my depressing thoughts, even in my sleep. A nightmare starts right away. I'm watching as Bellatrix tortures my parents. Their screams echo throughout my head. I try to scream at her to stop, to torture me instead, but I can't speak. I can't move either. I can only watch as she kills them slowly, cutting off different body parts, until there's a sea of blood. I try to close my eyes, but I can't even do that. Once their screams finally stopped, Bellatrix turns to face me, looking completely insane. She's grinning ear to ear, with my parents blood all over her face. She steps towards me, and then I wake up. I look around wildly, my wand already in my hand. I can tell that my Silencing charm had worn off. "Hermione. Hermione stop." A small hand grabs my wrist. I turn to see Luna sitting beside my bed. I take a couple deep breaths, and then put my wand down. I feel fresh tears on my cheeks. Luna doesn't say anything, instead she just pulls me into a hug. After a moment, I return it. She pulls away, then climbs into my bed. She places an arm over me. "Go back to sleep Hermione. I'm right here. I'll stay with you." I'm already exhausted from all the emotions I've dealt with today. This, paired with her calm, quiet voice causes me to fall back asleep rather quickly. The last thought to go through my head, is how glad I am to have a friend like Luna.
I'm staring at my breakfast as it gets cold. Strangely, I'm not hungry at all. I begin to push my eggs around my plate, but I don't take a bite. After a few more minutes of this, I give up. I grab my bag and head outside. Professor Tanner had said that we were allowed to come to his "stadium" in our free time to practice, if we wanted too. I get there, and of course, Malfoy's there. I can't catch a break can I? "Hello Granger." He doesn't wear his usual mocking smirk. He just cocks an eyebrow at me. "Malfoy." I say, rolling my eyes. "Come here for some sparring practice?" He asks. I nod, and put my bag down, and then take of my robe. When I stand up, he's in front of me, holding a second sword. "I wasn't intending to spare with you." I point out. He just grins, and holds the sword out towards me. Okay, this is different. What the hell is going on with him? He's never acted like this before. Wait, what if he was like Pansy. Putting up the "prick" act, because he had too. I huff, and grab the sword from him. That's when I realize, it's the same one from yesterday. I inspect it quickly. "Really Granger? I haven't spelled it. Don't worry." I roll my eyes again, but stop inspecting it. I take up a defensive position, and wait for him to strike. He does, and I block it. I attack back, and he manages to deflect it. I strike at him again, and he knocks the sword out of my hand. Suddenly, he's right in front of me, one arm encircling me, the other hold the sword near my throat. I know I should be scared, seeing how easily he could kill me, but I'm not. Instead, I've become lost in those grey eyes. Again. I don't even notice that he's dropped his sword, until his hand moves to my cheek, touching the exact spot that Ron cut me yesterday. He breaks eye contact to give the side of my face a once over. He's looking to see if there's any mark. I break away. "What the hell are you doing?" He looks down. "I saw what that Weasel did to you yesterday. I know you two weren't sparring. Why didn't you fight back? Two years ago you would have hexed him into next week for even thinking about cutting you." Why didn't I fight back? He's right, the git. Before the war, I would've hexed anyone who did that silly. "Granger?" I don't respond. I turn and grab my bag and robe. I start walking quickly back to the castle, but my bag snags on the stand that all the knives are on. One falls off. It's about the size of a letter opener, with a thin, wickedly sharp blade. There was a crescent moon engraved in the hilt. I slip it in my bag, instead of putting it back on the stand. I don't know why, something about the knife intrigues me. Once I've covered it with some books, I take off towards the castle
(Draco's POV)
I watch Granger run towards the castle. I saw her slip that knife into her bag, but I didn't say anything. She probably just wants it in case the Weasel tries something again. I pick up my sword, and put it back on the stand. I think back on what happened. How she freaked out as soon as I checked that the cut on her cheek was gone. I know Weasley has a temper, but I never expected him to physically hurt Granger. I had watched the whole interaction, but I hadn't been able to hear anything. I watched as Weasley said something to her, and watched as she exploded, yelling at him and brandishing her arm in front of his face. That had confused me at first, until I remembered. How my fucking crazy aunt Bellatrix had carved the word Mudblood into her arm. I remembered her screams, how she begged for death. It had been so hard not to step in, and stop the torture. Once they escaped, I had never felt more relieved. I'd hated living in that house once it had been turned into Voldemort's headquarters. The only reason I hadn't just run away was because I couldn't bring myself to leave my mother there with those people, if you could even call them that. My mother had actually been the one to suggest that I should doublecross Voldemort. She no longer wanted us to be stuck in a miserable existence, where my father manipulated everything, and beat us when we wouldn't do exactly what he wanted. Luckily, he's been locked up in Azkaban since the end of the war. Because Potter stuck his neck out to protect my mother and I, we were allowed to go free. We returned to the Manor, where Mother promptly renovated the entire building. It looks nothing like the Malfoy Manor I grew up in, and for that I'm glad. I pack up my stuff, and make my way towards the castle. I want to take a nice long bath, but seeing as a stepped down from my position as prefect, and I find the bathroom in my dormitory is rather disgusting, the only place for me to go is the Room of Requirement. I head up towards the seventh floor. But I never get to my destination. As I pass the closed girl's bathroom on the second floor, I hear… crying? At first I just assume that it's Myrtle, but as I listen, I realize it isn't. I've heard Myrtle cry too many times. This doesn't sound like her. Bugger. I can't just leave some crying girl, can I? I mean I could, but that isn't the type of person I want to be. Sighing, I open the door and walk in. I look around, and don't see anyone. Then I see a pair of shoes, in one of the stalls. I walk over and knock on the stall door. "Hello?" I hear a sharp intake of breath, but no response. "Look whoever you are, I'm coming in." Without waiting for a response, I push the door open. Then freeze. Because standing in front of me is Hermione Granger, with tears flowing down her face, and blood flowing down her arm.
TRIGGER WARNING!
(Hermione's POV)
30 minutes earlier:
I feel the tears starting just as I get to the castle. I run straight to Myrtle's bathroom, because I know that no one will disturb me there. As soon as I get into the stall, I practically collapse onto the ground. As I try to control my tears, I remember how pinching my hand helped me focus before. I pinch as hard as I can, but it isn't helping this time. That's when I remember what it felt like when Ron slashed open my cheek. How it hurt, but didn't at the same time. How it almost seemed to distract me from my emotional pain, if even for a minute. Slowly, I reach into my bag, and pull out the knife I took. It looks as sharp as a razor blade. I know of a method that muggles will sometimes use when they get extremely depressed. I know about self harm. I bring the knife to my left arm, where the word Mudblood glares up at me. I place the tip by the "M" and press down. As soon as the knife breaks the skin, I gasp loudly, and drop the knife. I cover the cut with my hand, putting lots of pressure on it. I sit on the floor, clutching my forearm, and hyperventilating. After a few moments, I do it again. And again. And again. After the initial shock wore off, I could barely stop. Once I finally managed to stop myself, I realize that I'm still crying, but not as hard. I stand up, and put the knife back in my bag. Crimson blood has begun to run down my arm, and I watch as it starts to drip onto the floor. I've become entranced, watching the consistent drip. I don't hear the bathroom door open, but I do hear a male voice speak from the other side of the stall door. "Hello?" I gasp. Fuck. I think that's Malfoy. What the hell is he doing here? "Look whoever you are, I'm coming in." I don't have the chance to say anything before he pushes the door open. He stares at me, looking shocked. I stare right back, unaware that tears were still dripping down my face. This continues until he seems to shake himself. "Granger what the fuck? You're bleeding!" I can't bring myself to speak. I just nod slowly, and grab my bag. I try to push past him, but he blocks my way. "Granger what happened?" "Nothing, don't worry about it. It was an accident. I'll go get myself healed. I'm fine." This time I manage to push past him, but not before he grabs my arm. He examines the cuts closely. "This doesn't look like an accident." Shit. "Oh fuck off Malfoy! Leave me alone." I rip my arm from his grip, flinching slight at the fresh wave of pain it sets off. I run from the bathroom, and towards the dungeons. I bolt through the common room, unsure whether he's following me. I stop right outside my dormitory, and pull my sleeve all the way down. I wipe my face, and pray to the gods that I don't look horrible. Then I walk in.