N/A: Only 2 reviews? Hmmm... I don't know about this story. Maybe the idea was bad. I had a plot picked out for it (well, I small, loosely constructed plot) and was hoping I could go on with it. Maybe making a second chapter is a little risky... but from the people who did review, they said they didn't want this to be a one-shot. So I'll see if the second chapter does any better. Actually, I've decided to make this take place in the seventh year. So the first chapter will be the epilogue. This will be the first TRUE chapter. Ok, here we go...! (Tell me what you think!)

Disclaimer: I'm still broke! So don't bother suing!

Summary: In the epilogue, Hermione and Draco had a bit of an argument...It's four years later so the bickering should still stand to reason, right? Umm, sure, for now... (I know something you don't know!) Nothing much has changed between third year and the end of their sixth year... except Hermione and Draco's fights are becoming a whole lot more brutal. So we shouldn't be expecting anything surprising, right? I mean, how much can happen in one year? (once again I know something you don't know!) I bet I'm getting on your nerves with the stupid questions that you really have no way of answering! HAHA! WARNING: THIS CHAPTER MAY BE UNSUITABLE FOR CHILDREN UNDER13! SHOCKER!
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Chapter One: Gone for Good

It was a peaceful morning. It was early and the sun was streaming through my window, illuminating my tired room. My soft violet walls glowed with the morning rays. My eyes fluttered open as my ears caught the early tune of the chirping birds. At first, that's what I thought had woken me up.

"Stupid birds." I muttered.

I sat up and looked around at the digital clock that was perched on my desk. It read 8:17am. It was early. I usually wake up around ten or eleven. So obviously I rolled back over to regain my slumber.

Then I heard it. There was a faint yelling that was taking place downstairs, probably in the kitchen. My eyes shot open and I sat up. My hair was untidy and all over, but that was the last thought on my mind. There was a shrill scream. My Mother. Then there was a pause as I heard her sobs take over the still air.

I got up from my bed and cautiously walked over to my bedroom door to open it. I was confused; bewildered at the excitement that was taking place below. I was scared too. I mean, how many seventeen year olds wake up hearing their mothers screaming and crying at eight o'clock in the morning, and aren't scared?

I opened my door slowly, letting a small creak escape the hinges. Luckily, no one heard me. They were too busy yelling.

"Get out! GET OUT!!"

It was mum's voice. She sounded angry. She also sounded hurt. I mean, emotionally. I was still confused.

"LEAVE! I DON'T WANT YOU TO COME NEAR ME OR MY DAUGHTER ANY MORE!"

She was still screaming, but then I heard dad's voice interrupt.

"FINE! YOU AND THAT FREAK CAN LIVE HERE BY YOURSELF! GOOD LUCK PAYING THE BILLS AND EARNING MONEY FOR FOOD! GOD KNOWS YOU NEVER APRECIATED MY HELP!"

Then the door slammed. My head was spinning. Did I just hear that? Did Dad just leave? Did mum just kick him out? I felt myself loose balance. Tears that were now swelling up and threatening to fall obscured my eyesight. Was this happening? My hand was outstretched, feeling around for something to keep me from falling. Too late.

My knees gave way and I tumbled headfirst down the stairs. Then all went black.

'...YOU AND THAT FREAK CAN LIVE HERE BY YOURSELF! ...GOD KNOWS YOU NEVER APPRECIATED MY HELP!'

My eyes fluttered open once again, but this time, I was lying on the couch. I took in all my surroundings. I was in the parlor. The parlor... the last time I was in here was yesterday, when daddy brought me my letter from Hogwarts that told me I was the latest Head Girl. He seemed happy for me. No, actually he seemed overjoyed that I had accomplished a set goal. But how long ago was it that he called me a freak?

I felt tears swell up again, and looked around to preoccupy myself, to take my mind off my father. Where's mum? She wasn't in the parlor. I made a move to get up, but I suddenly felt a sting of pain fly through my ribs and my wrist all at once. I looked down to see what the reason for it all was. Then I saw it. My wrist was swollen and bruised. With my good hand, I slowly lifted up my oversized T-shirt to examine my stomach. When I saw my ribs, I immediately knew they were broke. The left side looked semi- crushed, while the right side had dark bruises covering them.

Wonderful. The trip to Hogwarts is in three days, I have broken ribs and a broken wrist, my father left for good and I have no clue where my mother has gone off to.

Once again, with my good hand, I tied my over sized T-shirt up in a knot, draping the excess material up high enough to rest my wrist in. I secured my wrist inside it, then cradled my ribs with my good hand, all at once pushing my self up off the couch.

I stood up, but as soon as I regained my posture, I immediately regretted it. My head began to spin again, and my eyes were swaying in and out of focus. I did my best to walk down the hall with out collapsing, and stopped when I came to a mirror.

I leaned up against the wall and gazed into the mirror. I probably would have fainted right then and there if it weren't for what I heard a few seconds later.

My reflection showed a beat up child. My lip was busted open, I had a huge bloody bruise on my forehead, and my ribs looked worse then I thought. I was wearing sweat pants, so obviously I wasn't able to see the damage done to my legs. But it didn't matter; I didn't want to see any way. But the bruise on my forehead explained why I was so dizzy. I would bet you anything that I had a concussion.

Just then, a small sob caught my ears. Mum. I did my best to run to her, trying to ignore the stabbing pain coming from my ribs. She was in the Sewing Room. Oh god. The sewing room! Where all her precious sewing scissors and knives are kept!

What I saw next, well, let's put it this way, I'm surprised I didn't die right on the spot, I'm surprised I didn't go insane. What I saw next, would make any child just want to commit suicide. Luckily, I was smart enough (and conscious enough) to take action and call the medics, for both of us.

Mum was slumped over in the corner, her wrists bleeding uncontrollably. A small razor knife was sitting inches away from her, and she was crying, muttering words that made no sense.

"Get out. Leave. Go. Get away..."

I didn't even say anything to her. What could I say? My first thought was to get her help. Forgetting about my pain, I ran out of the room, tears streaming down my face, and headed for the nearest phone. I quickly called for an ambulance, and hurriedly answered all of their stupid questions. I ended up hanging up on them, they were wasting time.

I ran back over to mother. She was still muttering words, but when I approached her, she quieted. A walked over to her, and grabbed the nearest cloth. What do you do in a situation like this? I was having the hardest time concentrating. Oh god! My head hurt, I could feel warm blood dripping down the side of my face.

I took the cloth and pressed it onto her wrists, the purpose to slow the bleeding. I closed my eyes, silently praying to god. Praying that none of this was true. That it was all just one horrible nightmare.

I felt mum's head rest on my shoulder. I opened my eyes to look down at her. Her eyes were closed, but she was muttering something.

"He's gone... gone for good... he's gone for good and it's all my fault."

In the distance, I could hear the ambulance racing up the street. Mum must have passed out, that was all she said.