Author's note: Abi so, so very sorry that this has taken so long!
But, now ABi is back into swing of things, so hopefully next chapter will be up soon.
She hopes you like it and it isn't too much.
Comments are appraciated, even critical ones.
Abi looks forward to writing more of the story.
Check out Abi's other (and few, for now) stories, she doesn't think their as sad as this one.
She hopes hearing from everybody soon.
Oh, and orange squash has been stocked up!
But now, like always
Enjoy...
Chapter 10: Falling
"Get the bloody door open!?" Hermione's father yelled, carrying two suitcases up the garden.
Hermione did as told, going back to the car to get the other suitcases.
Later that night it was back to normal already.
Rachel in the kitchen or backroom, on her mobile or the home phone to all her friends, her wine in a bottle and a glass.
Mark in the front room, arse on the sofa, eyes on the tv, hand on a can of beer.
Hermione in her room listening to music.
She felt empty.
And she knew why.
It was because Draco wasn't there.
Even though she did miss him physically she didn't mean that, she meant that he wasn't there for her, to protect her, help her, love her.
And she loved him so much.
She realized that she would have to get over Draco to be able to carry on.
She realized that he would have stop loving Draco.
But can you do that?
Stop loving someone because you want to?
You can deny the love, hide the love, bury the love deep, deep down inside of you and ignore it forever, but it is still something that is part of you, it isn't something that you can change your mind about, like what your going to eat for tea or what book your going to read next.
Try as you may you can't throw it away like an outgrown jumper or a broken light bulb. It will always be in you, and you can try to ignore it, but feelings are feelings, and are not meant to be ignored.
She couldn't snap her finger and decide she wasn't in love with him anymore, but she could grow and learn to move on.
But for now, she would wallow in self pity.
If only time agreed with her.
…
As it is Hermione didn't have time to lurk in the dark and feel down.
She had secretly hoped that her parents would be better after the holiday.
But, it turned out to be worse.
Not a civilized conversation could be held.
There couldn't be a day when a curse wasn't made.
And through all of this, Hermione didn't matter.
Her parents weren't concerned when she grew upset or afraid.
They didn't care that this wasn't helping her.
They didn't care that she, like them, felt shit.
All they seemed to care about was to jump down each others throats.
One or the other had done something wrong.
One of them would always find a mistake the other had made.
Every little thing, from being in the bath to opening a window cause an argument.
And not once did one of Hermione's parents comfort her, not once did they come up and see her, to tell her that she was alright, that she had done nothing wrong.
One early morning brought sunshine and the smell of fresh cut grass.
Hermione felt it go right through and into her core.
For the first time since Italy, she felt calm, relaxed, happy.
Alas, it was not too last.
That same day Hermione found her father crumpled up on the floor, a note clutched in his hand.
"Dad? Dad what's wrong?" Hermione asked, terrified.
Had he hurt himself? Was he ill?
He simply stood up, took all the money out of the savings jar, slammed the door and left.
Hermione knew he had gone to the pub.
She reached for the crumpled note, unfolding it and sitting down on the sofa.
Dear Mark,
On holiday I met someone. In Italy. His name is Palo. He's rich, funny, handsome. And best of all he's not an alcoholic like you. You know we haven't been getting on. You know this was going to happen sooner or later. You must understand. I did love you. Once. But everything changed when… it just changed.
I'm sure you know what I mean. About the accident. The mistake. I tried, I really did. But, I don't love you, I haven't for a long time. I met someone else, I love someone else. Be happy for me.
Rachel.
P.S. I took all the money out of the bank account. You can use Hermione's.
Hermione read it. And again.
Her mother had left. Taken all the money and left her father.
Left her.
She didn't mention anything about Hermione other than her own bank account and the money in it from the summer job she had gotten at the vets.
What accident?
What mistake?
Hermione ran up to her room.
Her ginger cat Crookshanks her long and trustworthy companion.
She picked him up and cuddled him.
Crookshanks was delighted at the attention but quickly grew quiet when he realized Hermione was upset.
She fell asleep with Crookshanks quite happily on her chest, eyes glowing, completely alert, as if he were trying to protect her from something.
…
A couple of weeks since Hermione's mother had left.
Hermione had tried to talk to her dad, ask him if he was okay, ask him what was the accident or mistake or whatever.
But every time she opened her mouth to say something he would leave, and the two times she had spoken he had simply hit her, sent her flying across the room.
"Your fucking bill! Your FUCKING BILL for your FUCKING CAT!"
Her father stormed into her room where she was asleep.
Hermione woke up, and the look in his eyes scared her to death.
He was angry.
Angry. Insanely angry.
He didn't get this raged, even when drunk.
Hermione's tension, the anger she herself had been holding for weeks now snapped.
"Why do you care? I'm the one who's paying for it! And for everything else! I pay the bills and mortgage and the loan you took out for your car! I'm paying off mum's debts. I'm paying for the food and your beer!"
Hermione was on the verge of tears, and if it had not been for her boiling blood she would have collapsed.
If her father saw that then he might of done something else. Thing might have been different. But she didn't, and he didn't.
"Who gives a fuck?! This is my fucking house and I am you fucking father and you will do as I fucking say!"
"NO I fucking won't!" Hermione screamed back. Maybe if he were a proper father, a father who didn't loose his job because he was almost constantly drunk.
Maybe if he were a father who paid his own loan off.
Maybe if he were a father who loved his daughter.
But he wasn't, and Hermione had gone through what no one her age should have to.
And it was her parents who had put her though all of these years of struggle, misery, confusion, fear.
"Where the fuck is it? WHERE the FUCK is your FUCKING CAT?!"
He turned and stomped down stairs, looking for Crookshanks.
Hermione followed, fear and dread tied in a knot in her stomach.
He found Crookshanks, lunged for his tail as the cat tried to run away. He picked him up by the tail, clearly hurting Crookshanks, and clearly not caring.
Hermione tried to make her father drop him, but, as they entered the kitchen in the struggle, Mark's free fist swung at Hermione's head.
It struck and the blow knocked Hermione to the floor, cutting her head open.
"I am going to fucking show you who the fucking boss is in this fucking house!"
He took a sharp knife out of a drawer and stabbed Crookshanks.
It was sudden, out of nowhere, and it was already too late for Hermione to do anything.
Crookshanks body spilt blood, and Mark through the now corpse at Hermione.
Hermione, cradled her cat and could not say anything.
Crookshanks was dead.
Her cat, her loyal companion and friend, her confider, her one true thing that belonged to her, was murdered at the hands of her own father.
"YOU BASTERD!"
"It was YOUR fault she left. You were the accident, you were the MISTAKE!" Her father screamed in her ear, yanking her hair so her ear was almost pressed against his lip.
She couldn't think.
She couldn't breathe.
"Everything, EVERYTHING was fine until YOU Fucking came along. I would still have my FUCKING WIIFE if YOU had NEVER been BORN! You ruined my FUCKING life."
Hermione didn't see the other knife in her father's hand.
She didn't see the clean, sparkling silver point glinting in the sun.
But the second her father had finished she felt it plunge into he side, just below her rib cage.
She screamed, and he took it out, which hurt almost as much, and jabbed it in again.
Again she screamed.
And even though she was in agony, even though her heart was broken, even though her father had stabbed her twice, she did not cry.
He threw her across the kitchen and out into the hall, stepping over her he went up stairs, washed his hands, grabbed money from his room and left for the pub.
Hermione saw little bright coloured circles, when she heard the door bang she felt it vibrate through her entire body.
Her vision kept getting blurrier until she could not see. She could feel the warm blood oozing out of her.
And she thought of two things.
That, it was the first of September, and everyone would be boarding the train on their way to Hogwarts, while she was lying on the cold tiled floor, loosing blood fast.
And, she was not crying. Not once did she cry, not when she was hurt, not when Crookshanks was killed.
She had decided the day her mother left she would not cry for her parents.
They didn't deserve her tears.
She now knew that she deserved better, she deserved to be loved.
And her parents didn't, all they did was hurt her, and she had had enough.
So as Hermione lay there, blood pouring out, barely conscious, she managed a small smile.
Because, even though her father had ripped out her heart when he killed Crookshanks, and even though he made her feel more pain then she had ever felt in her life, he had not gotten to her.
He had not gotten to her inside, like he always used to do.
Even though he thought he had gotten to her, he had not made her cry and so he hadn't gotten to her, not really.
Hermione felt proud, brave for a moment, just a moment, and a small smile escaped her before she let her head fall onto the floor and her mind into a black, endless void.
……………………..
Draco searched the train, of course he kept his posture and didn't go mental, he acted if he were simply looking, out of boredom.
But, nearing the end of the journey he grew worried.
No one, no one, not even Slytherins forgot September the first, the day they all boarded the train and headed to Hogwarts.
So why, was the school's most able, most talented young witch not there?
Draco could have easily missed Hermione, it was after all a very long train with hundreds of students on.
But then again, if she was going to be anywhere it would be with Weasel and Potter.
Something was at the back of the mind, his instinct was telling him to got o someone, a teacher or something, but logic told him he was paranoid and nervous.
And Draco, never trusting himself, followed logic and not his own instinct.
But when she was not present in the Great Hall, and did not come for the feast, the worrying grew.
It grew until he had to do something.
And so he did.
"Professor, can I talk to you?" Draco elbowed his way through the crowd swarming out of the hall, retiring to their common rooms.
Professor McGonagall was, in simple words, shocked.
She was hated amongst Slytherins, almost every teacher was, of course Professor Snape was excluded form this.
"Mr Malfoy, do you have a problem?"
"I was wondering where Her… where Granger was." Draco asked as casually as he could.
He had no loathing for the head of Gryffindor, and respected her talent for teaching and helping students with other matters.
She was wise, and could probably see right through him, but he could not care less at that moment.
"And why are you concerned about Miss Granger's presence?"
"Because this is her favourite place in the world and she would never pass an opportunity to come back. Especially as she is in her final year in her education! If Hermione could be here, she would." Draco hissed, anger taking him over.
Talking to the Professor, he felt that his instinct was right and logic was wrong, and he was angry at himself for not trusting his instinct.
Honestly, why were they talking about this, when they should be finding Hermione?
"Are you saying Mr Malfoy, that something is preventing Miss Granger from being here."
"That is exactly what I am saying."
"Very well. Let us go and speak to Professor Dumbledore."
Half a year ago Draco would have scoffed at the idea, but he, at least aspects of him, had changed since then, and now had the same respect for Dumbledore that Potter did.
Draco expressed his worries to the Headteacher, and Dumbledore listened without pause, without questioning.
Not that Draco was long mind you, he said he wondered why Granger wasn't there, and McGonagall told her him of Draco's theory that something was stopping her from being here.
"That is most worrying."
"Professor Snape, sorry to disturb you, but there is an urgent matter at hand."
Professor Snape was there in a flash.
"Draco, what's wrong? Are you okay?"
Snape and Draco were close, Snape his Godfather, and both hated Luciusfor similar reasons.
Draco could not understand, other than being in Dumbledore's room, why Snape was so concerned with him.
But if Draco could see himself, he would understand.
He was shaking and a peculiar shade of white, his face clearly upset and scared.
"Severus, please join Minerva and apparate to Miss Granger's house."
Snape's lips tightened, but he took McGonagall's arm and apparated.
Moments later they appeared, McGonagall covered in blood and white as a sheet, shivering all over.
Snape also seemed shock, but managed to gain control of himself.
Draco, seeing the blood felt as if he had been thrown of a cliff.
"What's happened to her? What's happened to Hermione?!"
He lunged himself at McGonagall but Snape caught him, and wrapped his arms around Draco, restraining him.
"Professor, I think you should come and see this."
"I cannot leave the school Minerva, I will not leave my students unprotected."
"I agree with Minerva Albus, you should go. The school and it's students are safe so long as Minerva and I are here together."
"Very well, go to Madam Pomfrey and tell her to prepare. Draco, I think you should go and get some rest."
Dumbledore smiled reassuringly at Draco, before apparating.
"Professor, what did you see?"
Draco tried to get them talk but neither uttered a word until they reached the hospital ward, where they quietly explained to Poppy, in hushed, whispered tones, and of course, they excluded Draco from this.
As if he were remembered Snape turned to Draco.
"Draco go back to your dorm."
"No."
Snape raised his eyebrow and stared at Draco, demanding with just a look, and explanation of Draco's defiance.
"I am not going anywhere until I know Hermione is okay."
"Draco, as soon as Miss Granger is awake I will personally come and collect you myself. With her permission of course."
Draco knew he wasn't going to get anymore than that, so sticking his chin out as act of defiance, and to purposely show he wasn't happy, he left.
…
"Well, well. Look what we have here."
Draco groaned as two Gryffindor prefects came out of the shadow, the two prefects that he hated most.
"Problem Weasel?" Draco asked, making sure his voice sounded cocky.
"Yeah actually ferret, out of bed after hours."
"I'm a prefect too dip-shit."
Draco was staring at the Weasel but glanced at Potter, only to see him frowning, biting his lip.
"Not on duty tonight though jackass."
"I've been with Snape and McGonagall, and until very recently Dumbledore too."
Draco folded his arms.
Ron laughed.
"Oh okay, I do believe you. Because you never lye to get out of trouble and you always spend time with teachers."
"Go ask them yourself then."
Ron glowered.
"You know what? We'll ask McGonagall tomorrow, if he has been telling the truth then won't we get in trouble for accusing him? You carry on, and I'll walk him back to the dungeons."
Ron was about to protest but Draco stepped forward so he was next to Harry.
Ron glared, before walking off, muttering things like 'nobody is on my side anymore.
"Prick."
"Come one Malfoy."
For a minute or so everything was silent until Harry broke it.
"What happened?" He asked in a small quiet voice.
"I don't know what you mean."
"Malfoy please."
"I really don't, spell it out for me."
"Okay. You're an arrogant prick who never shows his emotions, and yet here you are standing before me shaking, whiter than you normally are, with puffy eyes and a horse voice that shouts like you've been shouting. What's going on."
"It's…" Draco hesitated, would Hermione want Potter to know how close they are? Were, he corrected himself.
"It's… Hermione."
"What about her? Is she okay? Do you know where she is?" Harry rushed, concerned.
Draco felt a stab of jealousy.
"Not sure, hope so and don't know." Draco replied.
Harry stared blankly at him.
"I am not sure, I think she's hurt, I hope she is okay, and no I don't know where she is. Wait a minute. She was at her house but now she's in the Hospital wing, or at least she should be by now."
"Hospital wing?!"
Harry spun around but Draco caught his arm.
"Potter. Snape told me he'd come and get me when she's awake, I'll come and get you on the way."
"You will?"
"Didn't I just say I would?"
"Yes." Harry looked doubtful.
"Thanks, I guess."
"Your quite welcome."
Their talk was stiff, clearly showing no affection for one another but both understood, and accepted that this was not about them, but someone they both cared about.
They continued their walk in silence.
…
The next day Draco received his timetable, barely noticing it he ate breakfast.
As it turned out Snape had not come to collect him.
Once he had eaten a little he made his way to the hospital wing.
"Can I see Hermione now?"
"Afraid not." Madam Pomfrey replied.
"When?"
"I'll let you see her this evening, when your classes are over."
Draco glowered and walked off.
Pomfrey, spending her time in the hospital wing, knew almost as well as the heads of houses themselves, the hatred between the red and gold, and silver and green. From so many fights.
So, she was bewildered at how pushy, nervous and anxious Draco was to see Hermione.
But, talking to Severus and Minerva the previous night she knew that it was Malfoy who had come to see where Granger was. And for that, he must care about her in some way, so Pomfrey would let him see her.
Draco's day was slow, annoying for him and unfortunate for any poor soul who had to sit next to him.
His temper was foul, and he earned a detention and extra essays on the very first day of lessons. He could not wait for class to be over.
And groaned when he saw he had double advanced potions next.
Draco was the first one, and he grumbled and sat down.
People came strolling in, most, in fact all of them Slytherins, apart from Potter.
Snape told people to move to the front as there were only 7 people taking this course, and he saw no reason to shout. Grumbling they moved forward.
And somehow, Potter and Malfoy ended up sitting next to each other.
Snape began his class introduction.
"Welcome to your second and final year of advanced potions. This year will be much harder than the last, and it requires much more effort, dedication and study. I have spoken with Professor Dumbledore, and anyone, who feels unable to cope or carry on with this course should leave immediately and talk to Dumbledore now, and myself later on when the school day is over."
He waited."Does anyone wish to leave?"
Two girls stood, they were very stupid slytherins and only picked advanced potions last year because they thought Snape might go easy on them.
They were clearly wrong.
They left, leaving the class with five, well four today, seeing as Hermione wasn't in lessons.
"The rest of you, will be working in pairs until Christmas. If I do not see any improvement, then I will change the teaching methods. But for now, turn to the person next to you, shake their hands, and be glad that it is not someone worse."
Harry, raised his hand.
"Yes Potter?"
"Sir, what about Hermione?"
Draco watched Snape's expression change, he frowned slightly.
"I believe that Miss Granger can cope with working on her own, and when she needs four hands instead of two, such as making certain potions that require tow people then I will assist."
"DO not mistake me, I will not do any work for anybody, but I will allow her to insruct me on how she thinks the potion should be made, nothing more."
Snape then excused himself, saying he needed to collect something, and left.
"Heard anything about Hermione?" Harry asked.
"No, I'm allowed to see her after lessons, you?"
"No."
They both sighed.
The next two hours were spent with heads over books, quills scratching on parchment. The class were ordered to pick twenty potions in pairs, ones they would prefer to make, the reason didn't matter, but they had to pick twenty together, as a team.
Snape decided that he would pick five from each list that they would be making as a pair, these were simply to test the teams, and see whether or not they could work together.
Then the real work would begin.
"Look Potter, potions means a lot to me, so please try, and if Snape picks on you, just ignore it, he'll admire you more for being able to control yourself. I really want to pass this okay, so just don't mess up for me."
"Same here." Was all Harry replied.
"Can I ask to do a potion?" Harry asked.
Draco frowned, it seemed like Harry was hesitant in asking.
"Can we do Nightdrift potione please?"
Draco was shocked, if Harry hadn't had that look on his face Draco would have laughed out loud.
"But that's like one of the hardest potions to do!"
"I know."
"Why do you need it?" Draco asked, his eyes brightening.
"Why should I tell you?" Harry asked in disbelief.
"Because if you tell me then I'll agree to do it."
"I need it."
"That much is obvious, what for?"
"My… headaches, my dreams."
Harry sighed, he could not believe he was telling Malfoy this.
"Look, tell anyone and I'll kill you. But I need it. Sirius used to make it for me, but now… my dreams, my nightmares, they're not normal. They hurt me, physically."
Harry muttered, keeping his voice as quiet as he could.
"What do you mean?" Draco asked, confused.
"If I dream I'm being beaten up then I will wake up with all the bruises, if I dream I've been shot in the arm, then I wake up with wound in my arm, bullet there and all. If I dream I die…"
Draco felt sick.
"Nightdrift stops me from dreaming. It knocks me out, I have been taking it for three years and know what quantities to take and everything. I just need more of the blooming potion."
Draco sighed, that wasn't so bad, was it?
"I know what your thinking, but trust me it's that bad. Because it's not only my dreams… if he dreams about hurting me, using the forbidden curses on me, then it happens. I don't have my own room for no reason."
Draco made an oh shape with his lips, and quickly scribbled down the Nightdrift potion.
Potions passed rather quickly, considering that he had to spend it with Potter, but it really wasn't that bad.
He didn't like Potter, but he could… tolerate him.
As soon as the bell went Draco left without a word and almost ran to the hospital wing.
Not uttering one word from her lips Pomfrey led Draco through the hospital wing, and pointed to a door, near then end of the room.
Draco walked through, shutting the door behind him.
He turned, and stared.
Her skin was deathly white, her mangled, her expression troubled, hurt, even though she wasn't conscious.
He could see the blanket had been folded down so it only reach her waist, and around her waist he saw bandages.
He walked over, pulled the only chair next to her bed, sat down and gently touched her hand.
It was so… cold.
She looked, felt, so fragile, he was afraid to break her.
But you've done that already haven't you? A voice whispered in his head.
He could bear to see Hermione like this, to see her in pain.
A tear escaped, then another, and after that they just came pouring down, rolling off his cheeks, and dripping down on to Hermione's bed.
He spent ages muttering the same things over and over again.
"I'm so sorry."
"Get better."
"Don't leave me."
"I love you."
Draco didn't know how much time had passed, he didn't know of Madam Pomfrey had come to check up on him.
But eventually the lack of sleep from the night before gathered up on him, and he fell asleep, his head resting next to Hermione's arm.
"What the hell are you doing here?" A voice hissed, waking Draco.
"I'm visiting Hermione." Draco said simply, still not awake properly.
"And, ferret, what makes you think that she wants to see you?"
Because I love her. Because I hope she loves me. Draco said silently, in his head.
"And what makes that any of your business?" Draco asked.
"Because… because…"
"It doesn't does it? Your not her boyfriend, your not her friend, you've treated her like shit. And what makes you think that she'd be interested in seeing you?" Draco asked, sneering.
"Your fucking…"
At that moment Harry walked down.
He ignored the two fuming boys and went straight over to Hermione, kissing the top of you head.
"Keep your voice down. This isn't about either of you, it's about Hermione. Ron, get a hold of that bloody temper of yours, the last thing she needs right now is bloody shouting. Malfoy, I know you're here because of her, but can you please try to understand. Ron's here, you've already seen her, and don't you think she'd rather you have her visit her, when you and Ron aren't screaming down each other's necks?"
Draco gave one nod.
He looked at Harry, and Eon saw an understanding pass between the two, but he didn't know what it was.
Draco moved to Hermione, then stopped, remembering there were other people in the room. With one last look at Harry, and then Hermione he nodded to Harry, pushed passed Ron and walked, calmly, gracefully out of the room.
"Ron…"
But Ron cut him off.
"What the fuck Harry? What the hell was that about? What, have you formed some secret gang with the ferret that I know nothing about?"
Just then, they turned to Hermione, whose had let out a low moan.
"Draco." She whispered, before settling down soundly again.
Harry went to speak, but again, Ron got there first.
"Save it for your new best friend." Ron hissed, and stormed out of the room."
In potions the next day Harry and Draco had a short conversation.
"Hermione whispered your name last night." Harry muttered, watching Draco tense.
"Malfoy, I need to know what's going on between you two." Harry said.
Draco let out a long breathe, calming himself.
"Look what has happened between Hermione and I, is exactly that, between Hermione and I. But I have nothing what so ever to do with why she's like this."
Draco said it very clearly, and Harry caught the threat on the edge of his voice.
"I'm not saying you hurt her…"
"Look, when she wakes up, if she wants to tell you then fine." Draco said, and Harry knew he wasn't going to get any more out of Malfoy.
Harry was very confused about Malfoy and Hermione.
He remembered them on the train, and how Malfoy had looked after her.
But something had happened since.
He just hoped he could talk to her soon.
…
The next few days Draco visited Hermione every day, from four until seven.
When Harry told him Hermione had woken up Draco froze.
Suddenly he was scared.
Scared of what?
Of being betrayed, like his mother had done to him, of being rejected when he loved her so much, of being blamed for whatever happened.
Soon enough Hermione came back to classes.
She looked well enough, apart from when she would bed over, or stand up to quickly and grab her side.
She had changed though.
She didn't want to see Ron, and didn't tell Harry what had happened.
The one person that understood, the one person she needed, wanted to talk to hadn't come to see her.
He hadn't spoken to her.
And she was trying so hard not to cry.
"Why have you stopped seeing her?" Harry asked Draco in potions, Hermione was talking to Snape.
Draco didn't answer.
"Do you want me to tell her you did visit her?" Harry asked, and again Draco didn't answer.
Draco didn't answer, because, Draco didn't know.
"I don't get it. You see her every day when she's unconscious, your worried about her and have to be kicked out by Pomfrey, and yet when you she can talk to you you don't say a word! It doesn't make any sense."
Draco was about to reply when a shadow fell over their desk.
They both looked up to see Hermione.
She heard, Draco thought.
Hermione caught his eyes, he saw confusion and pain and suffering, he looked away, his stomach knotted, he couldn't breathe.
Everyone packed up and Snape dismissed them, everyone sighed with relief, the weekend was here.
"Miss Granger please stay behind for a moment."
Hermione sat back down as the class left.
Draco was the last to leave, and he looked back, before disappearing.
"Miss Granger, have you talked to Professor McGonagall about this?"
"A little."
"Any friends?"
"No sir."
"Hermione…" Snape moved forward, clasping his hands together and resting his arms on the table before continuing.
"Hermione, I have a couple of things to discuss. First of all, I feel that you should know, Draco was the one concerned about you missing."
"Draco?" It hurt Hermione to say his name, but she managed to do so.
"Yes. He went to Professor McGonagall, who went to Professor Dumbledore."
"Secondly, Professor McGonagall and I saw you at your house, with a knife in your side, unconscious, blood all around you and your cat dead in the next room."
"It was my father." Hermione whispered looking up.
"What?"
"It was my father." Tears filled her eyed and she cried.
Snape, felt furious, upset.
Snape was a strict teacher, many thought he had no heart, but had had. He just didn't waste his time on petty little things.
But, for one's father to do that to them, inside their own home.
Every child should feel safe, be safe in their own home.
And yet Snape could name three who weren't.
Granger, Malfoy, Potter.
All he could do for now, was to walk around the table and hug Hermione, comfort her as she cried.
He thought she was crying because she her father had done this to her.
Hermione knew she was crying because in the space of a month she had lost one of her best friends, a mother, a father, a most treasured cat and loyal companion and her one, true love.
Though she knew she had lost these people ion the midst of it all, she could not see that she had lost one more person.
The days ahead for her would be hard and miserable, fearful and lonely, she would not be able to pull herself out of the dark fog that had already spread and engulfed her soul.
Because.
Hermione had lost herself.