Just One More

Seitoyoukai

-Flashback-

"Damn" he cursed as he ducked behind a suit of armor, blood dripping from his wrist. But that was what he had wanted. He hadn't expected to be intruded upon that night, she had only wanted to cut away the loneliness, sorrow, pain, everything, anything, it didn't matter anymore, just one more cut…

"What are you doing?!?!" he heard a voice say from above him. He looked up meekly to see the one teacher he could actually say he despised, and that was Letoros.

"Mister Snape…what…what in heavens name are you doing to yourself?" she said, slightly shocked to find the Head Boy in such a state.

"Nothing…." Severus mumbled, his voice weak

"Nothing…so self mutilation is now nothing? Mister Snape, come with me this instant." she spat furiously

"Yes Professor…"

"If I ever hear of anything similar happening to you, I assure you that you will answer not only to the Headmaster, but to me as well."

"Yes Professor…"

Letoros lead Severus through the winding hallways, walking fast enough that he was almost at a jog by the time they reached the Headmaster's office.

"Pepper Imps" Letoros said sharply, and mere seconds later, the gargoyle sprang away and the two of them stepped onto the escalator-like stairway.

"If you don't mind me asking Mister Snape…why were you doing that to yourself?"

"…"

"I take it you're not going to tell me."

"…"

"It doesn't matter, we're here" she spoke as the reached the top of the stair. She knocked on the old wooden door and when she heard a soft 'yes' from within, just opened the door swiftly, ushering Severus in as well.

"Good Evening Arianis, what, may I ask, is the occasion to your unexpected, but not unwelcome, visit?" Dumbledore greeted them, the usual twinkle in his eye. Severus was starting to feel a little dizzy, the blood steadily flowing from his vein…too much…

"I found Mister Snape in the Dungeons, near a suit of armor. He was cutting himself."

"Oh my. Mister Snape, what happened?"

"I…I…I don't remember. I try not to remember…I just try to forget what happened…but it never ever goes away…that's a lie, yes it does…it goes away when I cut…" he stammered out.

"I see…can you tell me what happened? I promise that whatever you say will not leave this room, am I right Letoros?"

"Yes Sir"

"Right. Now, can you tell us what happened, what made you want to hurt yourself this badly?"

"It started around first year. I had been teased by my whole house just because of who I am and what I am…"

"And what are you?"

"I can't tell you…I'm sorry…."

-End Flashback-

Snape sat in his office, contemplating the two very similar, if not identical events that had occurred between himself and Miss Granger. That night he had been made a Death Eater. He had received the Mark, which he found he was unconsciously clutching. That was where the two events varied. He hadn't been able to tell anyone, even Dumbledore, whom he trusted beyond all others. He was ashamed, because the moment he accepted Lord Voldemort as his master, he regretted it. But it was too late, and he was a servant to the Dark Lord as long as he lived… which is why he had wanted to end his life that night. He looked down at his wrist to see four scars, one from each time he had attempted suicide. There were many smaller cuts along his forearm, but those were minor, those were only from temporary pain. He ones that still remained were from times he just couldn't take what life had given him any longer. All his students knew he had a dark past, but none knew it was that dark. Now that a student was going through the same thing he had, he had to make sure it didn't happen to her to, that she didn't go down that same lonely, miserable path that he had. As someone who had been to hell and back, he had to make sure it didn't happen to another…not another…

-Diary

No one even noticed that I was gone all night. No one even cared. I just walked in the portrait and went about life as usual. I might as well not have even been there. Harry was goggling over some note from his "secret admirer", who he knows the identity of, but none of us do. He's been keeping this secret from us for almost a year now, and I'm getting fed up. Sometimes he's even in tears because of whoever it is, but he won't tell us why. Ron and I can't help us if he won't even tell us what's wrong. Ron was just sitting there, not even doing anything, just staring into space. They only noticed me when I smacked them on the backs of their heads. Even then, they just said hi and went back to their previous activities. They didn't notice the bandage on my wrist, or that I wasn't there all night. I hate it. Then I went up to the 7th year dormitory, where Parvati and Lavender were painting their nails and talking about who the cutest boys were…. Does this surprise me? No. They don't do much else BUT talk of fashion and boys. Maybe that's why I don't help them when they come begging for me to help them with their papers or studying for tests. They have plenty of study time they don't use. They didn't notice the bandage around my wrist either. They just looked at me with disdain, asked me why I wasn't there last night, and didn't even listen to my reply as they went back to their mindless chatter. They don't care, and they're in my house. No one cares, they never have, and they never will. The worst thing is, since my parents died at the end of 5th year, I have no where else to go but here. But they just don't get it. Do they even know? Of course they don't. I'm not important enough to notice. I found out today that they were finally expelling Draco. Now I can forget the harassment, the abuse, the torture, the pain… everyone will notice, but they'll never know why he's gone. No one will know besides Dumbledore and Snape, because eventually, the truth will die with me.

Hermione looked up from her diary and out of the frosted window. Winter was upon Hogwarts, which meant that Harry and Ron would be going to the Weasley's for Christmas, and Hermione would be staying at Hogwarts, as she had last year, and the year before that, and countless other years. She remembered how every year, her parents had begged her to come home for the holidays, and how she had refused for the most part, feeling an obligation to be with Harry. But now that he was going away and she had not been invited, she felt empty once again. It seemed like they had forgotten her, and she hated them for it. She had closed herself off from them, all of them. They thought she was just in mourning, they had told her to get over it, but it was much more than that, and they couldn't even imagine, not even Harry. He had never known his parents, but she had, oh, she had. And the emptiness inside her grew each day as she lost more and more of what she had known before. She buried herself in her studies, in being Head Girl, in keeping everything else she could in order. But it was all for nothing on the inside. Sure, she was the best Head Girl Hogwarts had ever seen, but that didn't count for much. That just meant she kept the others in line, and most resented her for it. After her 7th year, Dumbledore had offered her a job at Hogwarts as a teacher. She could apprentice under each on until she found a subject that she felt comfortable with teaching. Of course she would accept, but after last night, would he want someone like her as a teacher? Would he want someone like her teaching the students when she could barely keep her own life together? So many problems, so many questions, only how to answer them all…

"Hey Mione," said Harry, gently opening the door into her room "Mind if I come in?"

"Of course, you know you're always welcome here." She said with a smile, allowing Harry to enter, the door closing behind him.

"Hermione, I wanted to talk to you about something, but I need you to promise you won't tell anyone, not a soul, not even Ron, not ever Ron…" Harry said a bit shakily

"Mum's the word Harry. Is this about your "secret admirer" who's only a secret to us?" she prodded curiously

"Well…yeah, alright, it is. "Harry raised his hands in defeat, with a slight smirk on his face." Nothing gets past you, does it?"

"If anything did, I wouldn't be Head Girl." She smiled back at him. "Now what were you going to tell me?"

"What? Oh, right, that…well, about that…"

"I'm listening…"

"I've been having problems with him lately. It always seems as though he doesn't love me anymore, even though he says he does. It's so confusing, and I hate it, all I want is to be with him, but we can't be together until after Voldemort is dead, or his cover as a spy will be blown and we'll most likely fail…."

Hermione interrupted him "Wait, are you talking about a guy?"

Harry cast his eyes down, sitting down on the bed next to Hermione, "Well, yes…Oh Hermione, I know, but he's being expelled and his father's sending him to Durmstrang, and all I want is to be with him. I know Dumbledore would never let me go with him, even though I love him…"

"Harry, how in bloody hell could you love a slimy git like Draco!" Hermione screamed

"I knew you'd act like this! I shouldn't have told you, I thought you'd understand!"

"Harry!" Hermione grabbed his shoulders roughly "Harry, Draco raped me! Why do you think I've been this way since the beginning of the year! He and all of his Slytherin friends raped me!"

"You're lying! I know you are! Draco would never do something like that…"

"Then why would I do this?" Hermione ripped off the bandage on her arm to reveal a deep, barely-scarring cut on her wrist, right on the vein.

"He can't be like that…he just can't…" Harry stuttered out, his hands shaking

"Yes he can Harry, yes he can. He's most likely a spy, that's for sure, but his loyalties are not what you would have thought…"

"That's enough!" Harry shouted, slapping Hermione across the face. Her face stung sharply, the force of his slap pushing her against the bed.

"Harry…" she said, shocked, tears streaming down her face.

"I know Draco, and I don't know why you would stoop so low as to cut yourself, but blaming it on him? I…I hate you!" Harry stood, then stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Hermione curled into a ball on her bed, tears still flowing freely from her eyes as she cried herself to sleep that Saturday afternoon.