Disclaimer: 'The Tree of Philosophy' is now in my possession as well. All I own is this small collection of textbooks.

A/N: Most of this work is being written for my own personal benefit to try and displace these very experiences. Therefore, you should keep this in mind when talking about the improbability of this. Besides, its fan fiction, I can make the characters do whatever I want… POWER! evilly cackling

He wanted to meet her in Hogsmeade in two weeks; he would be in town briefly with his Quidditch team and told her that she would meet him at the restaurant promptly for lunch. She decided that this time she shouldn't be late.

For a week or so, she had managed to push her father's death and Viktor out of her mind. She busily worked with Professor Hanson on Muggle Studies and devoted the rest of her time to her Arithmancy work. The time flew by. Before she knew it, it was Friday afternoon and the next day she would be expected in Hogsmeade for lunch.

She got up early Saturday morning and took a bath. She carefully groomed herself, putting on makeup, pulling her hair back into a ponytail. She made sure her robes were ironed and her clothes were immaculate. She started to Hogsmeade well before she needed to just to ensure she didn't do anything wrong. She thought that this time she had gotten everything right, that the day would go well, that she had nothing to fear. She didn't know how wrong she would be.

It was all a blur really and she didn't begin to even process what had happened until she was well on her way back to the school. Her head throbbed and her vision was terribly blurred as her left eye had already completely swollen shut. She could taste the blood from her nose and lip seeping into her mouth. The bitter taste repulsed her as she stopped to vomit before going any further. The action hurt her, as she was certain she had broken several of her ribs. She looked at her wrist and saw the purple bruise beginning to appear. This time it was going to be terribly hard to explain. She made her way into the school and realized that this time she did need to go see Madam Pomfrey.

It was evening so no one was in the halls. Most were at dinner in the Great Hall, the rest were milling about in their common rooms playing Exploding Snap or Wizard's Chess. She crept into the Infirmary and looked around to be sure that she was alone. She sighed deeply and cringed at the pain she felt piercing her side. She carefully sat down and waited for Madam Pomfrey to appear. The mediwitch came around the corner and dropped the potions bottles she held in her hand. They fell to the ground and shattered, the sound deafening as it echoed across the lonely corridors.

It was Madam Pomfrey's habit not to ask too many questions of her students, letting them tell her what was necessary and leaving the rest. Sometimes, she just didn't want to know. The only other time Hermione Granger had visited Madam Pomfrey was an unfortunate incident in her second year when she arrived looking very much like a tabby cat. The mediwitch bit her bottom lip and led Hermione over to a cot. She walked across into the storerooms to get what she needed, leaving Hermione to sit in the dark lonely room. It was almost peaceful as she heard the all too familiar footsteps sweeping quickly and purposefully along the hall. Before she could turn around, Severus Snape had entered the room.

"Where is Madam…. Merlin, girl, what have you done?" he inquired.

"Nothing sir," Hermione replied quickly, she didn't want to recount it especially to the greasy unpleasant Potions Master.

"Miss Granger, I am not Longbottom, I know that your current state does not reflect nothing. Now, do you care to explain yourself or shall I call the headmaster?" Snape raised his right eyebrow at her as he asked. But inside, he was taken aback by the sheer sight of her. It had been circulated among the teachers that Hermione Granger had found herself in an unfortunate predicament last semester but he had shrugged it off as senseless female gossip. Now, he was not so sure. He looked at the broken young woman before him and was painfully reminded of years and years of seeing that same look on Muggle faces that were tortured senselessly by his fellow Death Eaters. Her deep brown eyes pierced into his soul. They were warm but weak. Her fragile glance couldn't hold his eyes as he wondered who would have damaged this spirit so deeply that she couldn't look at him. It was less than two years ago that she had looked at him so deeply that it sent surges to his stomach, as she was thirsty to be taught. Now, he looked at her empty and abandoned, who had done to this to this beautiful woman? Did I just call her beautiful? No, that's not possible. She's intelligent and brave, yes. But, she's a student. Yes, your student. But, she's not really your student anymore. You won't ever have her in your dungeons again. He admitted to himself that he missed her hand darting up before he finished every question. Now, Potions with the seventh years was as displeasing as ever as no one could answer even the simplest of questions.

Before Hermione or Snape had anything further to add, Madam Pomfrey whisked around the corner. Hermione looked at her painfully saying without words that she had found herself in a most uncomfortable situation. The mediwitch quickly took charge.

"Ah, Severus. I seem to have met with an accident and several potions that you prepared for me have found their way to my floor. Do you think that you might have time to replenish my stores?"

"Of course Madam. Just let me know what you need."

"Thank you. I have made a list and left it on the counter in the other room. I need most of that as quickly as possible."

"I'll get to work on it immediately Poppy. I must be going now." He tried to look as sullen and dispassionate as usual but was uncomfortable to the point that his body didn't want to cooperate with him. He left and as he rounded the corner he caught his breath. The sight of the mangled Hermione Granger stood in his mind without fading.

A/N: I'm working on trying to better my ability to write dialogue. Writing research papers doesn't generally involve dialogue so I'm winging it here, work with me.