Tears threatened to stain her porcelain face. Her eyes were full of
sorrow, pain, and an emotion that you couldn't read. She used to be such a
happy girl, always had a big smile on her face to greet any passer by. But
not now, Hermione Granger was now less naïve than she once was. She was
now a seventeen year old entering seventh year at Hogwarts. She was
taller, her skin was like porcelain, her hair was now flat with curls at
the end, and her eyes were full of the pain that told story of her life.
Her father left her mother, her ex-boyfriend had beaten her but now it seemed she could get away from all that. She could now escape her mothers crying episodes, her ex's stalking and beatings, her thoughts of her dead muggle friend that she had lost, but most of all the thought that she wanted to die more than anything in the world. She was on the train to her real life, back to her real home. She was going to start over again this year. She was Head Girl coinciding with Draco Malfoy as Head Boy, but she didn't care about that she could handle him. She had packed away all her journals in her trunk with her school books, the journals that held all her darkest thoughts and secrets. She had changed completely; everyone usually does as they grow.
She was sitting alone in the compartment staring off into space out the window. It was raining, just the way she liked it. But the door opened, hesitantly at first but then when the owner of the hand opening the door saw who it was he opened it quickly and then shut it. He looked her up and down, never had she seen such a beauty out of all the girls he had had. She was dressed in black jencos with a tight black shirt with belled sleeves, her make-up was black eye shadow along with black eyeliner and black lipstick to top it all off. She was a true Goth in its entire splendor. She had bleached her bangs and the rest of her hair had turned dark brown almost black over time.
He saw only one problem with her; she had bruises on her arms along with poorly tended cuts. He coughed to let her know he was there. "Excuse me, Hermione but we're supposed to be getting off the train now", came the voice of Draco Malfoy. She heard him, but it was as if he were far away, a voice in the back of her mind. A tear rolled down her cheek. Why does she cry? Draco thought to himself. She looked like a dark angel who knew true sadness, as he did.
He too was dressed in black jencos with a black shirt but he had his robes on; he still had platinum blonde hair and stormy blue eyes. But his hair was longer with no gel in it; today it was pulled back in a pony tail. His father had been beating him sense his mother left and his ex- girlfriend had died during the summer. He had a black book full of thoughts and poems locked in his trunk.
"Why are you crying?" he asked her.
"I have no reason to live yet I linger here waiting to die, all because I can't finish myself off. I don't know why but something in your voice brings back all the pain I felt in my past. I tell you this now, I know not why. The world dies and yet I linger. The great war has been ended for three years now and yet still can't stop thinking about it." She responded.
He looked over to her to see that she had fallen into a sleeping state. She looked a lot thinner; little did he know that she was hiding a sickness that only she knew she had. He picked her up in his arms and thought to himself, this year will be different; I can save her from the pain as I hope she can save me from mine. He carried her to a secret room just outside the Great Hall, he had used this room for other purposes but with her he wouldn't force her into anything.
Her father left her mother, her ex-boyfriend had beaten her but now it seemed she could get away from all that. She could now escape her mothers crying episodes, her ex's stalking and beatings, her thoughts of her dead muggle friend that she had lost, but most of all the thought that she wanted to die more than anything in the world. She was on the train to her real life, back to her real home. She was going to start over again this year. She was Head Girl coinciding with Draco Malfoy as Head Boy, but she didn't care about that she could handle him. She had packed away all her journals in her trunk with her school books, the journals that held all her darkest thoughts and secrets. She had changed completely; everyone usually does as they grow.
She was sitting alone in the compartment staring off into space out the window. It was raining, just the way she liked it. But the door opened, hesitantly at first but then when the owner of the hand opening the door saw who it was he opened it quickly and then shut it. He looked her up and down, never had she seen such a beauty out of all the girls he had had. She was dressed in black jencos with a tight black shirt with belled sleeves, her make-up was black eye shadow along with black eyeliner and black lipstick to top it all off. She was a true Goth in its entire splendor. She had bleached her bangs and the rest of her hair had turned dark brown almost black over time.
He saw only one problem with her; she had bruises on her arms along with poorly tended cuts. He coughed to let her know he was there. "Excuse me, Hermione but we're supposed to be getting off the train now", came the voice of Draco Malfoy. She heard him, but it was as if he were far away, a voice in the back of her mind. A tear rolled down her cheek. Why does she cry? Draco thought to himself. She looked like a dark angel who knew true sadness, as he did.
He too was dressed in black jencos with a black shirt but he had his robes on; he still had platinum blonde hair and stormy blue eyes. But his hair was longer with no gel in it; today it was pulled back in a pony tail. His father had been beating him sense his mother left and his ex- girlfriend had died during the summer. He had a black book full of thoughts and poems locked in his trunk.
"Why are you crying?" he asked her.
"I have no reason to live yet I linger here waiting to die, all because I can't finish myself off. I don't know why but something in your voice brings back all the pain I felt in my past. I tell you this now, I know not why. The world dies and yet I linger. The great war has been ended for three years now and yet still can't stop thinking about it." She responded.
He looked over to her to see that she had fallen into a sleeping state. She looked a lot thinner; little did he know that she was hiding a sickness that only she knew she had. He picked her up in his arms and thought to himself, this year will be different; I can save her from the pain as I hope she can save me from mine. He carried her to a secret room just outside the Great Hall, he had used this room for other purposes but with her he wouldn't force her into anything.
