Title- Just Breathe

Rating- M

Characters and Pairings- HG/DM HP/GW NL/LL

Warnings- Dark, will be gory, foul language, and I may try my hand out for a few Lemons. I am sorry if the Chars are a bit OOC WARNING MAY BE TRIGGERS for Cutting and ED

Summery- What if it wasn't Harry who walked in on Draco talking to Moaning Myrtle? What if it was someone else, someone who would risk her neck to help? Dramione! Set during HBP

Disclamer- Another Christmas come and gone…I still don't own Harry Potter *sigh*

The days after Fluer's funeral were hollow and dark. Tuesday, the Order and Fluer's family, stood in front of a fresh grave. Many tears were shed. Bill Weasley hadn't said a word said since that horrible night.

Ron and Harry seemed to have had the same realization that Malfoy had; as they always seemed to keep a very careful eye on Hermione. She was the only one who seemed unaffected by the death. It was almost cold of her, the way she went about chatting with people. Draco often wondered if anyone else could see the turmoil she was so carefully hiding.

On Wednesday, the Ministry of Magic fell to Lord Voldermort. By Thursday, new laws had been created against Muggle borns and half bloods. Harry knew that his journey to hunt Horcruxes must start soon.

Hermione let the scalding water flow over her body. Her hands scrubbed vigorously over almost raw skin. Dirt, Dirt, everywhere. She needed to get it off of her or else everyone would hate her. She could feel the Dark lord's hands on her; feel his disgusting body violating her, ripping her.

Stop. Stop thinking. But Hermione's shrewd mind refused to obey her. The memories bombarded her and she felt the shaking begin again. She was so dirty, was it any wonder Draco wouldn't touch her? Tears filled her eyes as she slumped back against the wall. Don't think about him either.

Her mind was spinning, nothing made any sense. Images of everyone's faces zoomed in and out of her head. Words, spinning. She grasped the ledge to pull herself up and gasped as a sharp made briefly made her mind clear. She numbly picked up the small razor she had cut her finger. The blood welled on her finger, and brown, haunted eyes, followed the stain as it was rinsed down the drain.

Feeling the fogginess returning, Hermione quickly placed the tip of the sharp razor against the pail flesh above her wrist. She let it glide across the unmarred skin. The sharp pain cleared her mind. She moved it up, pressing harder, and watching the blood from the two cuts mingle in the water. After repeating the process, Hermione let the razor fall from her finger tips, horror and revulsion filled her.

What had she done? Her arm bled slowly, but Hermione couldn't bring herself to stop them. Watching the blood getting washed away by the hot water, the feelings left her and were replaced with sweet, sweet relief.

Reaching out, with a wince, Hermione shut off the water and gingerly climbed out of the shower. The bathroom had once been Mrs. Black's, and Hermione was growing used to the regality of it all. It was huge, dark, and enchanting. The walls were sound proof, so Hermione had taken to disappearing into the room when her pain and anger over whelmed her. Her sobs and screams of frustration were silent to all but her.

"Looking puckish, dear." The large mirror whispered, its voice wrapping around Hermione's head. The brown haired, Gryffindor scoffed, looking at her reflection. Hermione had always known she was unattractive, chubby, plain, whatever someone would look at it, and it had always struck a chord when Harry and Ron went after the gorgeous girls. She knew what all boys looked for, but she knew that inside she was good, pure. Surely, some decent man would be willing to look past her outward appearance.

Now though, Hermione knew that no one could ever love her for her interior. She was dirty. She poked at some flab on her stomach, and then she met her own gaze. So I will make my exterior beautiful. She knew people questioned how much she was eating . They didn't understand that she was carefully calculating how many calories she could eat. She had everything under control. It was the only thing she could control.

"Potter," Draco dropped his bag full of books beside his raven haired companion. Harry peered up through his glasses.

"Yea?"

"I know what you've been researching." Draco watched as a broad range of emotions crossed his face. He settled on a slightly curious look.

"Oh?" Draco knew Harry well enough to see the concern on his face. Draco pulled out his notebook.

"If you were trying to hide it, you should put away the books you read."

Harry scowled lightly. The two boys seized each other up before Draco plopped down beside Harry, "I want to help." Potter couldn't mask his surprise, "I've been going over some things that could be The Dark Lord's Horcrux."

"One of." Harry corrected.

"Pardon?"

"One of Voldemort's Horcux's."
Draco's mouth fell slack in a very unMalfoy manor, "The bastard made more than one?"

Harry nodded grimly, "He made six. Two are already destroyed, and we have one," he pulled the locket from under his shirt , "Right after Sirius died I came back to the house and chased Mundungus Fleture off. I recognized it when Dumbledore and I found the fake and I came straight to Creature." Draco took all this in.

"Do you know of any others?" Draco asked, quick to catch on.

"We know they were very important to him."

"The snake." Draco snapped his fingers thinking of the giant pet of the Dark Lord.

Harry nodded, "Hermione thinks so." The two both became silent, lost in thought.

"Well," Draco stated, "I know one person who can help."

"Who?"

"Severus Snape."

AN- Thanks so much for all the awesome reviews! PLease keep them coming!