AN: Short chapter, I know. I'm going through an identity crisis right now, and my depression is getting worse. I honestly didn't know what to do with this chapter, so I tried, and it isn't great but I suppose its enough. Also the Dramione is starting (it's a slow burn). Now I need to go take a nap because finishing the second half of this chapter honestly took a lot out of me.

U_U

~~AlicornEagle11

Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling. I don't own anything. You get the gist.

Hermione didn't see a point in being at Hogwarts. After that first day, nothing really happened. Sure, she was a Slytherin now, but that meant more to the Gryffindors than them. Daphne and Theo were happily caught up in their relationship, Pansy and Draco avoided her for some reason, and Blaise, while nonchalant and playfully flirty when speaking to her, didn't actively seek her out. And she didn't seek any of them out either.

She herself didn't change, either. In fact, other than the classes, nothing had changed. She was numb and emotionless, practically a zombie, welcoming the nightmares and the flashbacks. At that point, they had become a part of her. Her performance in class, while not terrible, was not stellar, either. She simply couldn't be bothered to give a fuck about trying more than she had to. She never talked to anyone anymore, her essays were poor, and her test grades were only slightly better because she decided to try then. Everyone noticed this; everyone noticed her. But no one asked her anything, and that was as thankful she could get about anything that had happened since she had learned she had to come to Hogwarts again.

The castle haunted her. Everything reminded her of the war. She saw the bodies and the curses flying and the absolute desperation in everything and it hurt, but she loved it. She didn't shed any tears over it. She hadn't shed tears over anything for a while now.

Each day passed by slowly and pointlessly, and she barely made it through. She used her wand in private to make scars. They stabilized her, somehow. And when she was in public, she resorted to her fingernails. Never enough to draw blood, but the pain was plenty. Sometimes she'd simply make long scratches down her arm with her fingernails, cherishing the light burn that came with it and the red marks that appeared and slowly faded away.

The first Hogsmeade weekend came right before Halloween, and that was the first time the Slytherins really came to talk to her.

"Going to Hogsmeade, Hermione?" asked Daphne. She noted that Daphne was holding hands with Theo.

"Hmm… maybe I'll pass."

"Oh, don't be like that," Blaise pouted. "McGee isn't requiring permission slips for us since we're adults and all, you know. Might as well."

She sighed. "McGee? Really?"

"McGonagall is too long to say. I used Dumbles, too."

"One for Snape."

"His name is short. Besides, if he caught us saying that…"

They all shuddered.

"But, anyway," interjected Pansy, "come with us to Hogsmeade. We'll waste half our money at Honeydukes, a third at Zonko's, hang out at the Shrieking Shack, scare everyone out of the Three Broomsticks by just being there and then get wasted on butterbeer."

"Can butterbeer even get you drunk?"

"Yup!"

"How much butterbeer would you need to get drunk off it?"

"For Daphne it took five of the large mugs," Pansy informed her with a grin and mischievous glint in her eye. "I wonder how many it would take you. We actually took bets on that."

"Oh? What did you all say?"

"Blaise said less than one, Daphne said two, Draco said four, Theo said five and half, and I said seven."

Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"Wow. Do I have to come?"

"If you don't come then I win because zero is technically less than one," Blaise told her.

"You guys are going to drag me along anyway, aren't you?"

It was more of a statement than a question.

"Yup!"

Hermione was not looking forward to this.

An hour later, she was dressed warmly and Pansy and Daphne had each taken control of one of her arms, while Theo and Blaise had amused grins on their faces beside them. She wondered where Draco was, but the thought immediately left her when she was suddenly pulled into a shop.

She recognized the sweet smell of Honeydukes, but it was so cramped and loud and she had to clench her teeth in hopes that it would affect her less. She put on her fake smile, bought a few things to satisfy the other Slytherins, and then was dragged over to Zonko's. She could get away with not doing much there, so she didn't. She pretended to be creeped out at the Shrieking Shack, as if she hadn't been there plenty of times. At the Three Broomsticks, she pretended to be tipsy after three so no one would make a big deal about winning the bet. She barely made it through.

When they entered the common room, they saw Draco lounging on the couch. The four Slytherins with her rushed over to him to ask him where he was and what he was doing. He looked at her, and they made eye contact for a fleeting second. And then his gaze turned steely and an emotionless mask covered his face. A mask she was very familiar with.

Her breath caught in her throat, and then she turned away to head up to her dormitory. She couldn't deal with any more of this day.

She didn't come down again, and everything went back to how it used to be. She said nothing, they said nothing back. A few stares, but no questions, and she was barely getting through the days without breaking down to the point of no return.

Perhaps Hermione was already past the point of no return. It wouldn't surprise her.

That night, she couldn't sleep. She tried, desperately wanting relief from the horrors of the hours she was awake, but it never came. Once the clock struck midnight, it was a futile attempt.

So, she stood up, slipped a thin robe over her nightgown and her feet into black flats, then crept out of the dormitory without waking her fellow Slytherin girls. She headed out of the common room and began walking along the numerous corridors that Hogwarts had, unaware and uncaring of where she was going. What did it even matter? What did anything matter anymore?

Without realizing it, she reached the Astronomy tower. She went inside and headed over to the open part of it. Perching on the edge and sitting down, her feet hovering over the edge, she glanced up at the sky. Looking down would make her start hyperventilating; it always did, starting from when she was very young. But looking up, at the crescent moon and the glimmering stars covering the night sky, everything seemed so calm and peaceful.

"Hermione?"

She didn't bother turning around. That voice, she could recognize it anywhere. She didn't reply, either, as he walked over and sat down next to her.

"What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," she murmured quietly, barely able to be heard. It took far too much energy to try and speak louder. Energy she wasn't willing to spend, sitting here gazing at the sky.

"Couldn't sleep. You?"

"Same."

He had no response to that, and neither of them said anything else, just leaning against the wall and watching the stars.

Eventually, he went back to his dormitory. But she was content to stay. It almost felt as if no time passed her, and she knew that was untrue, but if she could choose when she could end it all, it would be at a time like this. When no one could see her inner turmoil, with the serenity of the moon and stars as the only witness, and her without a care in the world.

But she wouldn't just yet. She didn't deserve that relief.

The other girls didn't even realize she'd left by morning.