Disclaimer to JK Rowling

Chapter Three: I Was Cut Off From Hope

"I started once, or seem'd to start in pain,
Resolved on noble things, and strove to speak,
As when a great thought strikes along the brain,
And flushes all the cheek."

Alfred Lord Tennyson from "A Dream of Fair Women"

Dear Harry.

I do not know where to start! Father has gone mad! I do not mean in the simple Malfoy sense, I mean in the sense where he has completely lost his sense. He is crazy, senile, and he needs to go to St. Mungo's immediately! He decided just a month ago that I go to Beauxbatons - which, before you ask… your friend, is a Hogwarts in FRANCE - and the idea that he got me in the school is unimaginable itself seeing as every allowance has been made to make sure that I am made to feel welcome (but the French is killing me, I did not know how bad I was at speaking it before I came here. I keep getting snickers from my classmates who call me 'the English girl' when they talk about me thinking that I do not understand and it is actually such a downgrade from 'Malfoy' last year).

Father is not like this normally. He is being very serious. Mother was so angry when I was Portkeyed all the way to a carriage station on the outside of the school (did you know Beauxbatons students are picked up with several carriages throughout the country, so sophisticated!) and she is demanding that I return to Hogwarts and I agree! I will be back by January! I will!

Father is being so unreasonable! I was not even to write to tell you that I have left but Mother told him that I had yet to give you a present for your birthday. He enchanted the paper so that I can't write certain words on this page or it will go up in flames. Both of them are names. Tell them I will miss them, even R-... Sorry nearly did it! Tell H that I really am sorry, and it would be wise not to send me letters, as the magic of Beauxbatons might not let a Hogwarts owl in its wards. Father... He put this awful thing on Adelais so that I can't send letters outside anyone of the Malfoy family. It's horrible!

Tell H I am sorry. I will miss her and even if I have to wait to be there until January, she is still my best friend. Toujours.

Harry, now I am writing to you. I do not know what Father is planning but it is not good. It is... I am not sure. You are the one that always gets in trouble and the fact that Father has sent me so far away means that it must be close to me or else he would have sent Draco away too.

Be careful. Stay safe. If you do get in trouble, do not let them break you.

Lacie x

x-x-x-x-x

Hermione's hand was shaking as she finished the letter that Harry had handed to her before reading himself. She was angry, for Lacie and because of Lacie.

Why did she have to leave? Why wasn't she allowed to say goodbye?

She didn't understand at all. She didn't know what to do. A single tear fell down her face as she gave the letter back to Harry for him to read. She didn't like how Lacie felt so much of an outsider already, having stepped into the school for two seconds. Hermione didn't want to think about it. Lacie had specifically said that she would miss her, and that she was her best friend.

Hermione wished that she was allowed a second to cry, but she wasn't going to. She knew for a fact that Lacie had done a lot of crying, despite her Malfoy nature and Hermione was going to be positive about it. She was coming back in January. That had to be a good thing. It will be a good thing. It was only a few months.

She gulped. It wasn't going to be a good thing, at all, but Hermione wasn't going to think about it.

"What do you mean she's gone?" Ron said looking up from the letter. Harry slammed it on the table.

"A school in France? What, like a different country?" Harry asked, "Is Mr Malfoy mad?"

Hermione opened and closed her mouth for a moment and then sighed, "Maybe it's for the best."

"It's not the best! It's - … What was this about telling Harry to be careful?" Ron pointed at the letter, "What does she know?"

Hermione froze. She remembered what Lacie had told her at the end of the year. A centaur made me promise. She had to keep her promise to Lacie, even if she had no idea what the promise was about.

"I-I… look, Harry walks into trouble all the time, maybe she was being paranoid."

Professor McGonagall was heading for them and Hermione sat up straight. She knew that Harry and Ron were resisting the temptation to look very amused because they knew that it would annoy her, seeing that she was already slightly annoyed at them. Hermione looked at her first lesson, hoping that it wasn't something involving the Slytherins.

She was pleasantly surprised to find that her first lesson was Herbology with the Hufflepuffs. That was an easy morning for her first day back. She saw the same look of relief on Harry and Ron's face and they took one last gulp of pumpkin juice before standing up and going to lessons.

It was inevitable before a certain Slytherin caught up with them.

"Why is my mother sending you post?" Malfoy drawled behind them as they left the Great Hall. It was clear that he had been waiting there to ambush them, and for once, he was without his band of merry men. Hermione guessed it was a morning of surprise where anything could happen.

"Don't you have a lesson?" Hermione asked, pulling a face. Confronting Malfoy was the last thing she wanted to do this morning, especially since she had just gotten a letter from another Malfoy. Malfoy, as Slytherin and stupid as he was, was still Lacie's twin.

"Charms with the Ravenclaws, actually," Malfoy replied before turning to Harry and saying, "What did Mother want?"

"Not you, obviously, or else she would have written to you," Ron said pulling Harry away. Giving Malfoy one last contemptuous look, Hermione followed them.

"I would not step a toe out of line, if I were you Weasley, or Mummy will take you straight home!" Malfoy catcalled.

Ron's insistence to go to Herbology suddenly grew more aggressive. Hermione had to hide a smile as Harry was on the verge of falling over his own feet.

"How did I know that Malfoy was going to ask us about Athena?" Hermione said, not particularly to anyone but Ron still answered for her.

"He's jealous because we're legends."

Hermione snorted at that, "You crashed a car into the Whomping Willow, broke some serious Wizarding laws and got yourself a detention before school formally started, you're hardly legends, unless you want to be some sort of criminal who couldn't fly a vehicle properly when you grow up."

Hermione thought that the Howler screaming at Ron, and Harry's guilty face was enough to make her feel better. In fact, it made her resent the day before where she had aimlessly searched the train only to be alone for most of the duration of it. She had never felt so strangely alone since the moment that she felt that she wanted to end everything with that moment with Lauren in the dream-task. But, in the deepest depths of her mind, where it was concealed so tightly that no one would be able to know in their wildest dreams, what a flicker of happiness that Harry and Ron had done what they had done. If they hadn't, they may not even be in Hogwarts and Hermione would be alone on her journey to Herbology that morning.

"At least we didn't do that," Harry said, pointing at the Whomping Willow as they passed it. It looked as if Fred and George had gotten all of the toilet rolls in the school and dangled it down the branches for fun. It was the sort of thing that they did for fun when they weren't sending off Hogwarts' toilet seats every now and again.

Professor Sprout walked towards them with great difficulty, as bandages (or toilet roll, it was hard to distinguish from such a distance) seemed to cover most of her body like an Egyptian mummy. Striding beside her…

"Oh, no," Harry and Ron groaned.

Hermione didn't say anything. She just stared.

Gilderoy Lockhart was a fascinating specimen. He shook his hair out in the sunlight, his blonde curls looking silky as he glided his fingers through it. His dazzling smile seemed to radiate kindness and ooze a sense of coolness into the surrounding area, and made Professor Sprout seem like Cleopatra. The bandages that were sprawled over his robes seemed only an extension of himself, it was an enhancement rather that something that would deteriorate his appearance.

Hermione giggled.

"Good morning!" Professor Lockhart called, waving his hand enthusiastically. He turned to Professor Sprout and muttered something. Professor Sprout instantly looked displeased. Hermione didn't know why she should. He was so charming and dreamy. Hermione vividly remembered a boy called Riley Sullivan, who was also good-looking and Hermione had thought was charming as well. Hermione shivered, of course, Riley was smitten for Lauren, her childhood bully. Thank goodness Hermione had memorised everything that Lockhart had ever written, because he, unlike Riley, was a saviour to villagers and those in peril from Dark creatures.

"May I borrow Harry from you?" he asked as he neared. Professor Sprout didn't look too pleased and walked towards the Greenhouses in a huff.

He gave Hermione a toothy, bright smile. Hermione smiled back, it was her own private smile that deserved every Witch Weekly prize it gained, despite how ridiculous the magazine was. She stared at the ground as Harry walked away with Professor Lockhart. She didn't move until Ron moved her away forcibly.

"What's that?" Ron demanded to know, "Urgh! You're smiling. Oh, Hermione don't tell me that you like this prat?"

"Don't call him that! He's a Professor!"

"He's not is he?" Ron asked incredulously. Hermione had forgotten he hadn't been at the Sorting Feast where it had been announced that Gilderoy Lockhart, award-winning writer of the Dark Arts, was their new Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor. The thought made Hermione quite giddy. Ron seemed to catch her expression. "If you didn't like him, then why would you say that? You don't mind so much that I call Snape that."

"Shut up!" Hermione felt herself go a little pink.

"Hermione fancies Lockhart! Hermione fancies Lockhart!" Ron chanted.

Hermione punched him in the arm but he didn't stop. She was getting steadily embarrassed as they neared the Greenhouse where their fellow students were lining up.

"Ron, if you don't - …" Hermione said desperately, grabbing any form of threat that she could think of.

"If I don't, what?" Ron taunted with a grin.

"If you step a toe out of line, I'll have to write to your mother and she'll bring you straight home!" Hermione threatened immediately, remembering this morning.

Ron's jovial face went expressionless in a matter of milliseconds. He didn't have a trace of smile and that made Hermione chuckle.

"That's not funny."

Hermione bit her lip to stop herself laughing at Ron's sombre tone, "It is."

"You sounded a little like Malfoy," he said.

"I don't speak pig," Hermione snapped, quicker than she had thought it. Ron snickered and nodded. They stood behind some loud Hufflepuffs. Hermione had never really had patience for some of the Hufflepuffs, especially Ernie Macmillan who always seemed to have this incessant need to brag. However, if she could put up with Malfoy on a bad day, she could put up with Macmillan.

"Morning, Hermione," Ernie said brightly, dimples appeared immediately with his smile.

"Ernie." Hermione said. Ron grunted at him beside her.

"I hear you were top of the year," Ernie said, "I came eighth in the year myself, which is an achievement I suppose. Where did you come, Ron?"

Ron shrugged, "I got into second year, I don't care about places."

Ernie's smile didn't falter, "Pleasant."

Harry sigh could be heard a few feet away as he walked towards them. Hermione turned around to see Harry with his hair particularly messier than it had been five minutes before. Hermione knew that Harry must have run his hands through his hair multiple due to frustration. Hermione rolled her eyes. Only Harry and Ron would think that having a one-on-one conversation with Professor Lockhart was some form of torture. Personally, Hermione couldn't wait to confront someone who had met so much in his lifetime.

"Hello Harry, hoping to lead Gryffindor into a Quidditch victory this year? Of course, we don't expect last year's speed again this year. I'm sure it was fluke on your part," Ernie said loudly as Harry approached.

Harry shrugged like his best friend had done earlier, "I just do what the Captain wants and catch the Snitch."

Ernie didn't have time to give a false sort of pleasantry as Professor Sprout shepherded them from Greenhouse One all the way to Greenhouse Three where there was a selection of different and dangerous plants. Hermione grinned. She knew that this day was going to be interesting.

x-x-x-x-x

After a week, the absence of Lacie was taking its toll. Harry and Ron tried to be a good replacement, but they couldn't fill the empty bed in the dormitory. She often caught herself being jealous over how Parvati, Lavender and Cheryl had each other to gossip with every night and Hermione had only her homework. Then when something awful happened, Hermione knew she couldn't turn to Harry or Ron because they wouldn't understand. She had to wait until Cheryl saw her desperately trying to get rid of the evidence and everything was explained to her. It was a woman thing. Lacie would be able to empathise with her, had she been there.

It was the toll of this week that caused Hermione to find herself in the library early Saturday morning. She found it hard to concentrate when she was near Harry and Ron and when they heard that she was doing extra work, they would roll their eyes and seem to have a telepathic conversation. Hermione was sick of it. It made Hermione wish that Lacie were there so that she could have possible telepathic conversation with her as well. She was not at all feeling well, but wanted to do extra background reading for Professor Lockhart and had quite the bad temper from not having anyone to really talk to. Harry and Ron seemed to roll their eyes when they saw her decorated timetable, something that Lacie would probably not have had done. She would have been nice, even if she didn't like Lockhart. Hermione flicked the page of the large volume that she was reading when she heard someone clear their throat.

She looked up, and wished she hadn't. She forced a smile on her face.

"Malfoy," she said, before nonchalantly looking back at her book. "What are you doing here?"

Hermione heard the sound of a chair being pulled back and felt her stomach knot in annoyance. It hadn't been an invitation to sit beside her.

"I need peace."

Hermione scoffed. "Can't you ask your minions to leave you alone?"

"As much as they would love to do what I want," Malfoy said in a very superior tone, "they are human beings."

At that, Hermione raised an eyebrow. Had Draco Malfoy tried to sound quite humane or was he being serious? Hermione couldn't tell as his book had engrossed him, which like Hermione's book, was a large tome. The moment she looked away, he spoke again, "And also, Pansy would never suspect me of sitting next to you, which makes this a positive."

"I thought you and Parkinson were very close," Hermione said as she turned a page. She could almost hear the growl from his mind.

"I would prefer it if she left me alone," Draco said shortly. "Much like yourself."

"I do leave you alone," Hermione said without emotion, "You seem to be the one floating around me like a fly."

"I suppose."

There was a small pause where Hermione didn't know quite what to say and then she did, but she didn't want to sound stupid so she closed her mouth.

"What are you reading?" Malfoy asked her as she continued to stare at the page without absorbing any of the information.

"A book."

"Ha, ha. What about?"

"Vampires, Lockhart set us an essay, which I finished but I wanted to do some extra background reading," Hermione said, and the look on Malfoy's face said it all. He clearly had regretted asking what he had. "You?"

He didn't answer. He simply just lifted his book and showed the title of his leather-bound book and it's faded golden lettering. Theories of the Ancient World.

"You're still not obsessed with that idea are you?" Hermione asked incredulously whilst remembering back to the conversation she had had with Malfoy in the maze that seemed a lifetime ago. "I told you - …"

"And I did not listen…"

"But - …"

"Not everything is logical, or fact or makes sense, sometimes things just are, and I refuse to let you, Granger, stop me from pursuing a subject that I am genuinely interested in."

Hermione didn't know what to say that. Malfoy did have a point, and she went back to her book. For a while they sat in silence, and Malfoy became more engrossed in his book. Hermione knew better than to bring it up, but there was also another thing that she wanted to discuss with him.

"I did some research on house-elves," Hermione said meekly.

"Don't talk to me about house-elves," Malfoy said, without even hesitating to think about what Hermione had said. "I do not want to have to ruin this morning by shouting at you."

"I think - …"

"Shut it, Granger!" Malfoy said, slamming his book shut. "I do not wish to talk about it!"

"Maybe you should," Hermione said quietly, feeling the presence of the librarian, Madam Pince. "We didn't really get to talk about what happened - …"

"And we will never talk about what happened, alright? Dobby is a house-elf, he disobeyed a master's order and therefore said master punished him! This happens all the time in the Wizarding world, Granger, but you are too much of a-a… Mudblood to actually know what it is like to be a real wizard."

When he had finished his tirade, he stood up and stormed out of the library, slamming his book onto the nearest shelf. Madam Pince loomed around the corner and seemed on the verge to chasing Draco for mistreating a book like he did. She stroked the book and seemed like the librarian was having a little conversation with it that Hermione didn't want to intrude on.

Hermione sat in the library for the next hour trying to read the book, but she couldn't get beyond that chapter. Memories of her time at Malfoy Manor seemed to come back to her, such as certain kiss on the cheek. Hermione felt her cheeks go red. Why had he done that only to treat me like I'm nothing more than dirt? Hermione would never be able to decode Malfoy, and she was glad that she had no intention to.

Hermione realised that she wasn't going to get anywhere with her book and decided to borrow it and read it in the dormitory. When she left the library she saw Ron running towards her with an urgent expression on his face.

"What's wrong?"

"I thought I saw a group of Slytherin Quidditch players leave the Great Hall," he panted, grabbing her by the sleeve and pulling her along.

"Isn't Harry supposed to have a Quidditch practise today?" Hermione asked, remembering Oliver Wood telling Harry to be ready for this morning the previous night. They were speeding down the Grand Staircase, Ron was taking two steps at a time and Hermione was struggling to keep her book under her arm.

"Yeah, Wood took him out this morning before I woke up, anyway, if the Gryffindors are practising, what are the Slytherins up to?" Ron asked, "Which is why I came to find you, to see if you knew anything about it."

"I don't."

"Plus, I saw Malfoy in the Slytherin colours."

"What?" Hermione was striding past people who were on their way out of the Great Hall. Ron didn't answer her. Hermione didn't want to interrupt his thoughts as they both walked as fast as they could to the Quidditch Pitch. Hermione nearly fell over her feet several times but the urgency brought her to forget that she was stumbling about. Malfoy was on the Quidditch team? When had that happened? How had it happened? Hermione knew that Malfoy was one to brag but he hadn't said a word to her… Then again, since when had Malfoy considered her as a friend?

You are Lacie's friend, and in her world, that makes you his friend, a small hopeful voice in the back of her mind said. Hermione shuddered. She was glad that she wasn't Draco Malfoy's friend. Definitely glad.

When Hermione and Ron finally got to the Pitch, they found the Gryffindors and the Slytherins in a heated argument.

"I thought I saw a pig in a uniform, I didn't think it was you, Malfoy," Ron catcalled.

The teams turned to look at them and Malfoy looked smug as he posed in his Slytherin Quidditch uniform. There was a crooked smile that was trying to hold back from being a complete smile. A lift of the eyebrow. Hermione snorted. Malfoy was in his egotistical element and he was loving every minute of the conflict that surrounded him.

"Jealous?"

"Hardly," Ron said nonchalantly, "Of course, you've been jealous of Harry since we started, I didn't think that you actually wanted to be him now. I bet you're a Seeker as well."

Malfoy chuckled, "It was the only available position on the team. It is not my fault if I was the only adequate enough flier."

"Sure, I wonder how adequate you'll be when Harry outflies you," Ron said with a smirk.

"I wouldn't be so sure," a horrible Slytherin Hermione was sure who was called Marcus Flint said. He tossed a black broom handle from one hand to the other casually. The golden lettering on the handle glinted in the morning sun to reveal that the identical brooms that each Slytherin were holding were a Nimbus Two Thousand and One. Hermione didn't need to be a broom expert like Ron to know that it this was a big thing. Harry had a Nimbus Two Thousand. The lack of "And One" was ominous.

"How did you get those?" Ron hissed, "Those aren't even on the market yet."

"My father knows the right people," Malfoy said, "So, Weasley, I wonder who will outfly who? I know the fastest broom on the market was the Nimbus Two Thousand, but according to reviews from seven different and reliable periodicals, the Nimbus Two Thousand and One is set to be the fastest one yet."

"Broomsticks only fly, Malfoy, you can't outfly talent," Hermione said whilst narrowing her eyes. There was nothing Hermione hated more than Malfoy bragging about how rich he was, or how superior he was. Again.

Malfoy glared at her.

"What do you know about Quidditch? You are only a filthy little Mudblood."

If Malfoy wanted a reaction he certainly got one. Fred and George needed to be restrained from hitting Malfoy and possibly breaking his nose. Angelina, Katie and Alicia started screaming and cussing enough to make a sailor blush. Ron reached into his pocket and of Hermione hadn't been with Lacie for the past year she wouldn't have noticed it. She put a hand on Ron's arm. He was going to curse Malfoy, or something like that.

"Don't."

"But...!"

"It's my fight. Let me fight it," Hermione said softy before turning towards Malfoy and saying with the most deadpan voice she could muster, "Oh, how original Malfoy."

The Slytherins, who had formed a safety circle around Malfoy, stopped cackling and turned to gape at her and the familiar look of perpetual confusion graced their faces. The Gryffindors looked as equally as confused.

Do not let them break you. If Lacie was going to give her a parting message, Hermione was positive that she was going to let it be that. She wasn't going to let Malfoy humiliate her the same way that Lauren had done.

"I would have thought that you would have come up with something new by now," Hermione said with a nonchalant tone, and with a small shrug of the shoulders, "I guess not."

A brusque older Slytherin shoved Malfoy in the shoulder to say something else, but when he couldn't say anything in response, he flushed a bright pink and muttered, "Shut up, know-it-all."

Hermione laughed and said, "I'm glad you know it, Malfoy." She turned away and, then adding with a smile as she turned around again to add, "I do hope Mr Malfoy does forgive you for allowing yourself to be beaten by a Mudblood as repulsive as I am in every exam."

With that, she skipped all the way to Hagrid's Hut regardless of who was following her, or the Slytherins response to her final words. Whilst being self-deprecating, Hermione had proven that insults were just words. Hermione didn't mind how many times that Draco called her a Mudblood but when it affected people around her like how Ron was about to curse Draco, she needed to step in. The look on Draco's face as she retaliated to his offensive remark was also worth insulting herself.

Hermione turned around to see Harry and Ron bounding over in a fit of laughter.

"You. Were. Brilliant." Ron paused between words to emphasise his delight. "You should have seen his face when you left."

"Wasn't he stuttering a little as well?" Harry asked Ron with a hint of glee, "I-I-I... You-you... Obnoxious, you don't know your place."

Ron laughed as Harry imitated Malfoy. Clearly to them, despite their fancy broomsticks this victory was more worthwhile.

"More like he doesn't know his place," Ron said. "If he was like that when Hermione finished with him, imagine when what he'll be like when you've finished with him, Harry."

"Harry, if there's anything you can do, you have to beat him in the game. I couldn't stand it if those smarmy Slytherins win because of their expensive broomsticks, Hermione said. "I couldn't stand it if they pulled ahead for the House cup either."

Harry shook his head with mock disappointment in their lack of sportsmanship as he rapped on Hagrid's door. Hermione knew that smile. He was worried that he wouldn't live up to their expectation of him and he would disappoint Gryffindor if he lost. He was also scared of the brooms. Last year, he had had the best broom on the market, now he had the second best.

"Harry, brooms only help you fly. It's the person on the broom that counts," Hermione said.

Harry looked at her as if he was oozing with confidence, "I know that Hermione."

Hermione knew that he was faking his bravery because as soon as Ron was speaking to Hagrid in a loud tone, Harry said in a whisper, "Thanks."

"And Hagrid, you will not believe what just happened with Malfoy…"

Hermione rolled her eyes as Ron recounted his version of what had happened.

x-x-x-x-x

Ron's arm was aching as he polished the trophies in the trophy room. The git, Filch, wasn't pleased with his progress and it felt as if it took him half an hour to get through a single trophy. It wasn't his fault though, seeing as Filch demanded a trophy so shiny that if reflected off sunlight it would burn. Ron felt like growling at him. Git. As the night wore on and he was polishing the fifth Quidditch trophy, the time was getting longer and it was taking longer for Filch's satisfaction.

Ron didn't seem to understand this type of menial punishment. Ron supposed it could be worse, he wasn't answering fan mail with Harry. Ron chuckled. As repugnant as Filch was, better him than the arrogance of Lockhart. Ron made a disgusted noise. Lockhart. He didn't know why Hermione adored him so much. Maybe it was the fact that he was an idiot and secretly everyone pitied him. Like Neville. Ron liked Neville mostly because he felt sorry for him. He seemed to always to be alone, even if he was talking to someone.

It was getting later and later and Ron was really tired by the time he reached the Special Awards for Services to the School awards. He snickered at some of the names. Elyfrindeth Valdestralive was very unfortunate boy, to begin with, Ron couldn't imagine being three and having to spell a name like that. He supposed it was a lot more interesting than John Smith or Tom Riddle. He wondered what Elyfrindeth, John or Tom had done in order to gain their awards and earn them a place of permanence in the Hogwarts Trophy Room. When Filch was still not impressed with the state of the Services trophies, he started playing a new game. He tried to spell his name with each individual name. The furthest he got was with Tom Marvolo Riddle, where he could spell, I am Ro-…

Ron started yawning loudly, and after one of the loudest yawns that Ron would hope never to make, Filch snarled and sent him to bed. Finally, Ron's aching arms sighed with relief as they hung limply by his side. He could barely open the door to the dormitory and when he did, he realised that he wasn't the only one awake as Harry sat, cross-legged on the floor with a pensive expression – like the one he had had when he had come back from being warned away the Mirror of Erised.

"Mate, what's up with you?"

"Ron, I think I'm going crazy."

And when your best friend says something like that, how can you react, apart from, "Grow a pair, Harry. I bet it isn't anything."?

He snorted and wiped his nose, only to feel intense pain from his arms.

No one said karma was pleasant.

A/N: Sorry for updating a day late (I do try and stick to my Tuesday and Friday schedule but life just gets in the way sometimes).

I actually finished writing this story, and I'm blasting my way through the third instalment. The main reason why I took this story down to edit was to (1) shorten some of the chapters from 6k words to 3-4k, makes it easier to read it guess?; (2) add more POVs, I love writing in Draco's POV especially later on in the story - this story is probably mostly Hermione POV, then Draco, then Lacie and rest of the characters; and (3) for it to fit in better with how I've ended the story.

If you haven't yet read Bright Star for more context, Lauren is Hermione's childhood bully.

CS.