Title: The Day The Stars Fell
Author: Midnight_Dragons
Pairings: Draco/Hermione, Harry/?, Ron/?
Year: 6th
Rating: PG-13, R for later chapters

A/N: Hi guys!! Sorry that I haven't been on in awhile, but my modem messed up and we had to take it to Best Buy and they took forever fixing it. Let's hope that I don't break it again. =) Anyways, while I was waiting I wrote chapter two. YAY!! So, here it is, for your reading pleasure.

Thanks to: Sare Bearz, Spunky1621, clairamalfoy, and Angel-Girl-1103, for reviewing.

Chapter 2
Battle Scars

Hermione woke up the next morning with no soothing sounds of comfort or her father sitting on the edge of her bed. Her eyes drifted over to her clock that sat on the nightstand. It was 8:30. She might as well get up, for the train was departing from King's Cross at 11:00. Hermione pulled her body out of bed and walked over and into her bathroom. She turned the light on and it filled the surrounding air. She stripped of her clothes and got into the shower.

She groped around, looking for her strawberry shampoo. Upon finding it, she squirted some into her hand and threw it into her hair. She lathered it in for a few minutes and then began rinsing. Afterward, she got her shower gel and a sponge. She put some on the green sponge that she had retrieved and washed her body, then rinsed off the suds. Hermione turned off the spigot and got out of the shower. She put a towel around her body and walked out of the bathroom. A rush of cold hit her as she walked out of the hot bathroom into her cool bedroom. She threw a glance at her alarm clock; 9:34. She had time. Hermione grabbed underwear and a bra from her chest-of-drawers, then she grabbed her clothes from the free-standing closet that sat in the corner, and walked back into her bathroom.

20 minutes later, Hermione emerged fully clothed and ready. She had her hair up in a simple ponytail, slightly curled at the bottoms. Light make-up on with some Chap-Stick, instead of gloss or lipstick. Then, she had on a red tube-top, blue flared jeans, a long jean jacket, hitting the top of her knees, and a pair of black, casual boots. Hermione walked over to her door, opened it hastily, looked around, then proceeded to walk out into the hall. She breathed in the scent that she remembered so clearly, but it was no longer there. She turned her head and looked at the wall. There sat some air freshener that Judy had had installed awhile back. It smelled of lemon or peach or some other "fresh fruit." The hall used to have a natural feeling and smelling nonetheless. No longer. Hermione sighed and walked down the stairs to the kitchen/dining room.

When, Hermione got downstairs, her father was sitting at the dining room table and her step-mother was in the kitchen, hovering over the stove cooking something, like she always did. It was if she was attached to the thing....physically. Hermione was used to the silence, so she walked over to the fruit bowl that sat on the white bar and grabbed a ripe banana out of it, then started to peel it. Normally, someone said something by now, but Hermione had never started the conversation. She used to in her younger days, but realized it dropped like a hot rock, right through her dining room table. Hermione shook that memory off and started to eat her banana. After she was done, she threw the peel away as her eyes drifted to her watch. It read 10:15; she needed to get going, as not to be late and miss her train. She exited the room quietly and walked back upstairs.

Her father no longer carried her trunk outside. Never had since she got her letter, to say the least. Hermione felt like crying, the tears were pushing and shoving to come out, but they never did, not anymore. She forbid herself from crying. It was no longer in her nature. It was as her late grandma used to say, every man for himself and that was exactly what it was. A battle, which Hermione was not going to die for, she was going to back away. Into the brush and the trees and let the generals fight, by themselves. Hermione blinked once or twice and sighed, time to leave. She pushed her trunk out of her room and to the landing of the stairs. She walked back to her room and grabbed the cage with her owl that her Aunt Elva had sent her after her cat, Crookshanks passed away, two years ago and also grabbed her purse. She took one last look at the room before closing the door on her sanctuary. Hermione got down stairs with her things and sat them by the front door. Her downtrodden face turned to her father.

"Bye, Dad," she said.

No response, much to her dismay.

Hermione angrily shoved her trunk out the door, picked up the cage and her purse and slammed the door behind her retreating figure. She walked over to the driveway and dug in her purse for a moment. She found her set of keys and put them into the lock and turned the key to the right, the trunk popped up. Hermione walked back to her trunk and being so mad, picked it up and dropped it into the trunk, no matter the weight. She slammed the trunk and took her keys out of the lock and moved to the drivers side of the car. She opened the door and leaned in. She put the key in the ignition and turned the engine over. Hermione walked back to grab her owl and purse. She picked them and put them in the front seat of the car and then got in herself. She placed her seatbelt on without realizing it and backed out of the driveway and drove in the direction of the train station.

Soon, Hermione was standing in front of the entrance to platform 9 and 3/4. She inhaled a deep breath and looked around at the station for a moment or two. She looked a brick pillars that held up the high ceiling of the station. The trains that we lined up down the rows awaiting passengers. Maybe the trash that overflowed the trash cars and spilled onto the floor or the bustling people running here and there dragging their luggage or even their kids. Everything was so..so..muggle and in some instances, Hermione loved it, but on the other hand, hated it. It was tough, but she made it through. Somehow. Hermione turned back to the platform entrance and unsuspectfully, leaned into the wall. Her body and soul reappeared on the platform in front of the glorious Hogwarts Express. It was her mind that didn't follow in suit. Hermione let a small smile escape her lips, but soon withdrew it. Her body naturally moved forward to find her best friends, but for some reason, she didn't allow her body to withdrawal from its dark corner. Unfortunately, her friends saw her before her body was no longer seen to the rushing crowd.

The black-haired and red-headed boys ran over to embrace her in a hug. She allowed them, but only for a few quick moments before pulling away. They looked at her with puzzled eyes, shimmering green and shining blue. Hermione wasn't effected. She showed no emotions. She had done so for so long that it had become habit, nonetheless and that was a terrible habit to have. Instead, Hermione placed her gaze on her trunk. The boys seemed to get a message and took her trunk away. Hermione followed, staring down at the cement floor as she walked. Many a people bumped into her or she bumped into them. Hermione didn't mind, her head was somewhere, some place that was distant from here. She was at home, trying to regain the life that she once lived.

The two boys and the girl walked to the back of the train to compartment 313. They all took their seats, Harry and Ron on one side and young Hermione on the other. Hermione took out her book that she couldn't keep her head in for once. She just let her eyes drift through the pages, not imagining the places the characters were or the places they had traveled. The compartment held an awkward silence and Herman intended to keep it that way. Soon enough though, Harry had it break that silence and unleash something that shouldn't have been in the first place.

"Herman, what's wrong," Harry asked, leaning forward, lacing his fingers together.

"Yeah, what's up, Hem," Ron asked, slightly yawning in the background.

"Nothing that you guys in your wildest dreams, could ever comprehend," Herman replied. Harry and Ron knew about Hermione's home life, but they didn't realize the danger that lay on her shoulders and hers alone.

"Hermione, but-," Harry started, but was cut off by the sliding opening of the compartment door. There in living color stood, Draco Malfoy and his partners in crime, Crabbe and Goyle.

"Well, well, well...if it isn't Potty, Weasel, and the Mudblood," Draco started, sarcastically cheerful, "how quaint," he finished scoffing.

"Malfoy, get out," Hermione said, closing the book on her lap and turning her gaze toward him.

"Ah, the Mudblood speaks," Draco said, crossing his arms over his chest, smirking, then leaning against the door frame. Hermione got up and strode over to Draco's figure. She stood directly in front of him.

"Malfoy...go," Hermione repeated.

"And if I don't," Draco said seductively, licking his lips in the interim.

"Grr...Malfoy!! Get the fuck out," Hermione boomed, slapping him with all her force.

"Why, you little..," Draco started, gritting his teeth, but Hermione pushed him out the door, closed it, and locked it before he could even finish. She turned around and saw Harry and Ron sitting with stunned faces.

"Her...Her...Her...," Ron kept repeating.

"Hermione, how did you do that," Harry asked, once again regaining his voice.

Hermione never answered, she just sat back down and stared out the fogged window.

Battle scars, just battle scars.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
A/N: There, done!! I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter, it took me awhile to write. Please review and tell me what you think. Sorry, for any spelling or grammar mistakes. Have a good day, bye!!

Midnight_Dragons