Her footsteps echoed off of the empty hallway. She heard voices in the sound. They were all calling to her "Your not good enough. You'll never be good enough. Your not perfect. Your not perfect."
She dashed into an empty classroom, glad for the silence. She opened her pocket, and pulled out a shiny razor blade. It seemed that she stood there for eternity, staring at the blade. It was her road to freedom. A road away from this life that she had come to hate. A way for her to be blissfully unperfect, with perfect lines of blood flowing down her arms.
She took the razor in her right hand, and let it glide across her left wrist. The blood started snaking down her arm. She stared at it, and smiled. She was happy now. This was the only thing that made her happy.
She let the razor dance around her wrist a few more times, and then put it in her bag. She thought about doing a charm to make all of the blood dissappear, but then decided against it. No one would be in the hallways. She would wash it off before morning, or maybe just wear long sleeves tomorrow. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore, except her nighttimes with her razor.
As she stepped out into the empty hallway, and began her walk to the common room, she heard footsteps approaching. She didn't turn away, she was a prefect, and could use her outing as an excuse, she was actually patrolling the halls, she had heard a rumor that students went out later. But instead of coming up on Filch, or another teacher, who should she find but Draco?
He walked up to her, and questioned "What are you doing?" "I could ask you the same question", she replied, trying to hide her bloddy arm against her robes. But he saw it. He showed no sign, but his eyes took in every detail. They stood there staring at eachother for a minute or so, and then Draco says "Your not alone", and walks away. She stares at him, puzzled, then shrugs, and goes back to Gryffindor tower.
A few nights later, she was on the run to the classroom again, with razorblade in hand. This time, she was going to keep on going to end it all. It just wasn't worth it anymore. She was halfway through, razor doing it's dance on her wrists, blood all over the table, when who should walk in but Draco?
"What are you doing here?" Hermione asked. Hopefully, he would leave quickly, and she could get back to business. "I don't want you to die alone" He said softly. She was full of questions, but he kept on talking. "I saw it in your face today. I saw your wrist the other night. You should have saw mine." She remained silent, holding in her surprise.
"Why are you doing it?" She finailly asked, "You have everything. Money, Looks, Girlfriends, Grades?" "But that stuff doesn't statisfy. I'm supposed to become a Death Eater. I only get good grades because my father forces me to. My home life is nothing. My only true friend is my razor."
She just stared at him. He looked at her, and then said again, "I didn't want you to die alone." Still string at Draco, she picked up her razor, and let it slide across her wrist. He began doing the same. Their blood feel on the table, and then seeped down to the floor. Just before death overtook them, Draco took her in his arms, and thoughts filled both of their heads, 'What an interesting way to die.'
And then, with one final breath that felt like it was shared between their lungs, she and Draco left this life, leaving their bodies together on the blood-stained table.
She dashed into an empty classroom, glad for the silence. She opened her pocket, and pulled out a shiny razor blade. It seemed that she stood there for eternity, staring at the blade. It was her road to freedom. A road away from this life that she had come to hate. A way for her to be blissfully unperfect, with perfect lines of blood flowing down her arms.
She took the razor in her right hand, and let it glide across her left wrist. The blood started snaking down her arm. She stared at it, and smiled. She was happy now. This was the only thing that made her happy.
She let the razor dance around her wrist a few more times, and then put it in her bag. She thought about doing a charm to make all of the blood dissappear, but then decided against it. No one would be in the hallways. She would wash it off before morning, or maybe just wear long sleeves tomorrow. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore, except her nighttimes with her razor.
As she stepped out into the empty hallway, and began her walk to the common room, she heard footsteps approaching. She didn't turn away, she was a prefect, and could use her outing as an excuse, she was actually patrolling the halls, she had heard a rumor that students went out later. But instead of coming up on Filch, or another teacher, who should she find but Draco?
He walked up to her, and questioned "What are you doing?" "I could ask you the same question", she replied, trying to hide her bloddy arm against her robes. But he saw it. He showed no sign, but his eyes took in every detail. They stood there staring at eachother for a minute or so, and then Draco says "Your not alone", and walks away. She stares at him, puzzled, then shrugs, and goes back to Gryffindor tower.
A few nights later, she was on the run to the classroom again, with razorblade in hand. This time, she was going to keep on going to end it all. It just wasn't worth it anymore. She was halfway through, razor doing it's dance on her wrists, blood all over the table, when who should walk in but Draco?
"What are you doing here?" Hermione asked. Hopefully, he would leave quickly, and she could get back to business. "I don't want you to die alone" He said softly. She was full of questions, but he kept on talking. "I saw it in your face today. I saw your wrist the other night. You should have saw mine." She remained silent, holding in her surprise.
"Why are you doing it?" She finailly asked, "You have everything. Money, Looks, Girlfriends, Grades?" "But that stuff doesn't statisfy. I'm supposed to become a Death Eater. I only get good grades because my father forces me to. My home life is nothing. My only true friend is my razor."
She just stared at him. He looked at her, and then said again, "I didn't want you to die alone." Still string at Draco, she picked up her razor, and let it slide across her wrist. He began doing the same. Their blood feel on the table, and then seeped down to the floor. Just before death overtook them, Draco took her in his arms, and thoughts filled both of their heads, 'What an interesting way to die.'
And then, with one final breath that felt like it was shared between their lungs, she and Draco left this life, leaving their bodies together on the blood-stained table.