Hello my lovelies! Here is an update for yous. I have the next chapter written already so that should be updated soonish as well. I'm having more time to write because I don't want to pay attention in class (and in PoliSci I don't have to) so hopefully I get a few ideas and get back into the flow of things. As always, let me know what you think and stuffs.

Pansy stomped through the halls searching for her target. Hermione and Draco were distracted by each other and didn't notice her following them like a lioness. She studied them. The way they looked at one another and laughed together... Whatever had happened over the last twenty-four hours had changed their entire dynamic and it angered her. His arm slipped around Hermione's waist when no one was looking; she stared at him just moments too long. Pansy felt rage surge through her body at the two of them. Not only did Draco no longer show interest in her, but he had chosen a Mudblood instead?

Well. There was no way he could get away with that.

Draco and Hermione walked through the castle that day, almost completely unaware of the effect they had on the student body. Students stared openly, making Hermione extremely uncomfortable. She did her best to focus on what Draco was telling her, but she couldn't ignore the whispers and suspicious looks. Twice, he tried to hold her hand between classes and she shied away.

When they returned to their room that afternoon, Draco had questions. "What was up with you today?" he asked. She avoided his eyes.

"I don't know what you mean," she lied.

"Why wouldn't you let me hold your hand or touch you? I thought this was what you wanted."

"It is," insisted Hermione. "It's just... People were staring." Her voice was quieter than she intended.

"So?"

"So... I don't like to stand out. It only brings trouble." Hermione had still not looked up.

"From who, Pansy? Blaise?"

"From whom."

"Don't change the subject. They can't hurt you." He put his hands on her shoulders and she finally looked at him.

"Yes, they can," she replied. "And if they don't, then someone else will." Her eyes were fierce and Draco decided not to argue. He pulled her into him and hugged her.

"Well I'll be around. I can protect you," he said into her neck.

Hermione hugged him back, but didn't reply. She thought, almost ashamed for all they had been through together, Not if you're the one hurting me.

Hermione tossed and turned that night. In her dreams, she ran and ran but could never travel more than a few inches each step. She couldn't tell if she was running from something or towards it. There were people everywhere, lining the streets she ran through. She recognized fellow students and Muggles from home. She wasn't moving fast enough, but hard as she pushed she could never accelerate.

She began to sweat in Draco's arms. In her dream Hermione suddenly looked down and discovered she had only a large t-shirt on; one that barely covered her backside. She was in a mall now, one she recognized from home. Everyone was staring. She ran and ran and suddenly she sat up in bed awake.

"Did you have a nightmare?" Draco asked groggily. She breathed deeply for a moment then nodded. "I thought you didn't have any anymore."

She shook her head. "This wasn't the same dream."

"What was it about?" he asked. She wiped the sweat from her forehead. Even though he hadn't made an appearance in her dream, Ethan's image crossed her mind. She had sensed him as she had struggled through the streets.

"I don't want to talk about it," she said in a flat tone. She rolled away from Draco and pretended to fall asleep. He didn't push it, but kissed her shoulder lightly before going back to sleep. She felt bad, but somehow she felt that this was all for her own protection.

Before moving forwards, light must be shed on the inner turmoil of Hermione Granger. Hermione had always been smarter than most, but that was not what separated her from the rest of her peers. It was her uncensored determination and drive that kept her an outcast; her need to share her information helped little. People don't like to be proven wrong, and this fact was not something Hermione understood but made effort towards correcting. Her work was in vain, however, for the harder she tried to educate the world, the harder they resisted her.

It was not as simple as ignoring a little girl with a heavy book cradled under her arm. The adults around her knew of her promise and were charmed by her love of learning. But children, from the time she was little, saw her as a threat and fought back. She was bullied relentlessly from the moment she started school. Twice she had told school officials that she had fallen down and gotten serious injuries that were actually caused by fellow students.

Then her Hogwarts letter came. The promise of a new school, a new life, and a new world to learn about. She was surprised, then, when the new students turned out to be exactly like the old ones. The day Ron Weasley teased her behind her back, she didn't cry because she was hurt; she cried because she was disappointed.

Even when she, Ron and Harry had become friends, she never trusted them completely. The first few years of her life were filled with nothing but pain, and she always felt that that pain was nearby. Waiting. Watching. There were moments, more than she was able to count, when she thought she saw a look between her only two friends. This look said so much, and stabbed her in her heart. It said "She's doing it again", "God, how annoying", "Why won't she leave us alone", "I can't believe she thinks we like her" and countless other things. Her only comfort was her logical mind, breaking through the emotional haze, telling her that if they had actually thought these things, they wouldn't hang around her for six years and say nothing.

But then where would they get help with their homework, the voice in her head would say. Every day was a battle within herself. She only gained Muggle friends over the last year, and though she loved them, they were not immune to her distrust. Ethan using her wasn't even the worst blow to her confidence; he was now a symbol her mind latched onto that proved everything she ever feared was right.

So even though Draco seemed to understand her and care for her, she couldn't trust him. She had started to trust someone once, and that had nearly killed her. Draco was too perfect. It couldn't be true. He was gorgeous, and smart, and was stuck with her whether he wanted or not. But now, it seemed like he wanted her. She didn't understand it. How could anyone like her? She was so...

That is what it was like in Hermione Granger's head. Speaking a million miles a minute about some obscure fact no one knew, all the while her brain was screaming at her to shut up. She was lonely, so lonely, because she didn't let anyone in. To let someone in would be suicide. Equal to death. Unacceptable for someone to see her as clearly as she saw herself. And so many times, she couldn't take it anymore and just wanted everything there was to her (her brain, her personality, and all the little traits that irked her to no end) to die.

Hope that didn't depress you all; I actually don't think it's a good enough passage. I wanted to pain the picture but I don't know if I've done it well enough. I'll rewrite this chapter later for sure until I'm satisfied, but I didn't want you guys to not get an update just because I'm picky. Anyway, lots of love. -Katherine