Chapter 22

Silent Times

Hermione didn't know what to do with herself for the next few days. She couldn't eat, she couldn't sleep, she couldn't even study. As soon as she was finished with her classes every day, she went straight to her room and locked herself inside.

Her room was as dark as midnight on a moonless night. Both sets of curtains were drawn together, because the light hurt her eyes. The fireplace was not beaming with flames as it usually was, it was now charcoal black. It looked like the bright beautiful flames it was usually inhabited by had never flickered upon it. The room was clean, the bed was made, nothing had been disturbed for days. The atmosphere in this room would send chills down your spine. It was possible to assume that a gothic follower of the devil, or worse, Voldemort, would be living there. If a group of investigators stumbled upon it, just by the look of it, they would fear that a dead body would be waiting for them in the closet. The room was as cold as a windy graveyard in the back of a haunted forest. Considering the castle's mountainous, undisturbed location, it didn't help the heating problem either, but this didn't bother Hermione at all. Nothing about this room or anything else in the castle did anymore.

The door slowly creaked open. Hermione walked in. Her face was pale. It was as if she had just seen a ghost. Actually, if you didn't regard the fact that she wasn't transparent, she would have been able to get admitted into the ghost society at Hogwarts. There was no expression on her face. She slouched as she walked and dragged her book bag across the floor as she neared her bed. Once she reached her destination, she dropped it on the floor and lied down on top of her bed, not bothering to take her shoes off. Hermione curled up in a ball, bringing her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them.

Her eyes remained open. She looked ahead into the darkness not seeing anything, not caring if she would be able to see anything ever again. There was no point in trying to sleep, she hadn't been able to do so for days. The dark circles beneath her puffy eyes had gotten so dark that she could have been compared to a raccoon. There was no emotion on her face. It lay there, facing away from the entrance to her room and staring into the shadows. She turned around to glance at the clock by her bed, not seeing the time.

Was Hermione thinking about anything? Yes, thoughts were running through her head but she wasn't able to make anything out of them. She might as well have been paralyzed. There was no sign of movement, her body was completely listless, not even a twitch in her eye. A careful observer wouldn't have even been able to tell that she was breathing, her breathing was so shallow.

Hermione twisted her neck around once more to look at the time. The clock read 7:30. However, her brain did not register that. It was dinner time. She hadn't been able to come down to dinner ever since…the accident. During the day when her friends asked her where she had been, she just lied that she was in her room, studying, and had Doby bring her up some dinner. All the conversations she had came in one ear and out the other. She couldn't recall anything that had happened before. It was as if her brain had a one sentence capacity. All she could think about was one sentence at a time. As soon as another one started coming, her mind would go blank and try to retain the next one, so she would be able to intelligently talk back to her friends.

No matter how much she 'tried' to hide the fact that something was wrong, no one was fooled. Her mind led her to believe that everyone was acting normal around her, when in fact they were trying to find out what had happened. Hermione had lost 5 pounds on her already slim body. She had begun to wear jeans and shirts which actually covered up her gorgeous body because everything about sex made her sick to her stomach.

Draco was one of the biggest problems she had. Ever since she had come home that morning, he hadn't spoken a word to her. Going back to his old, insulting, conceited self would have been better than what he did. His punishment on her was silent. He acted as if she wasn't there. When he looked straight at her he didn't see her. It was as if she had become invisible, as if he could see right through her. As much as Hermione hated this, she was also happy that it happened. If he was talking to her, she wouldn't be able to think of anything to say, her mind wasn't occupied, it was a complete blank. Thinking about all of the things she had to deal with would cause her head to explode. She choose to block them out.

Hermione lay in bed, mentally unconscious to her surroundings for a while. Soon enough, she heard a horrible sound which brought her into a deeper misery. If this had happened to one of her friends, she would have told them to keep on going, because it could be worse. Well, in this case, it was worse. She could still say that to herself, but what could be worse than this? Her being dead? If she wasn't feeling this way, she would have thought so, but right now it didn't really seem like a bad thing. Dying to her would be an escape, a vacation, she would forget about all her problems, all the rotten people that had messed up her life, and surprisingly enough, she saw it all as her fault. She had provoked everything bad in everybody and now she was paying for it.

The sound came back again. It was loud and rhythmic. There was no doubt in her mind about what it was. Tears started pouring down her face. She hadn't been able to cry since that morning. Her tears had been dried out. The sound kept on growing louder and louder. To someone completely unaware of what it was, it would seem like it was getting closer. Her crying grew more intense, she let out little puffs and moans. Her chest began rising higher as her breathing became deeper. Hermione tried to stop crying but her tears just kept coming. She was scared. Scared of what she had to live through and of what that man was doing to his victim. She wanted to help the girl. That poor girl! Hermione couldn't move. A powerful force was pushing her down, pinning her to her bed. She wanted to help the girl, but she couldn't get up. The girl was panting and screaming. Hermione's crying grew harder. How much she wanted to help her, but she couldn't. She saw flashbacks of Blaise on top of her. There was nothing she could do, she started shaking. This was her biggest fear, and now it was happening to someone else.

Hermione turned over and hid her head underneath her pillow. This wasn't much help since she could still hear the poor girl's screams. A few minutes later, Hermione heard the door to Draco's bedroom bang down the hall, and she could barely make out two voices:

"So I'll see you next week?" asked the girl.

"Same time," answered a voice which was unmistakably Draco's.

So she had been just a toy. Hermione felt like a fool to believe that he had ever wanted her. This was the fourth night in a row this had happened. How was it so easy for him to go back and act as if he had never been with her when Hermione couldn't even get herself out of bed?

Hermione turned over once again and laid on her back. Her tears ceased to come. She had none left. Her eyes were cried out. Words began to escape her mouth…"Playground school bell rings…again…" she sang, "rain clouds come to play…again,

Has no one told you she's not breathing?

Hello,

I am your mind, giving you someone to talk to,

Hello."

No one cared about her. Guys had never wanted her for her mind. All they had ever wanted out of her was sex. This is all she was: a slut, because she had given it to them. That was all that she could do, and she hadn't even been able to do that right. What if she just died in her sleep? Would anyone care? Would anyone check on her? Or would no one even notice for days, weeks, oh, who was she kidding, it would take months for anyone to notice she was gone.

"If I smile and don't believe,

Soon I know I'll wake from this dream.

Don't try to fix to me I'm not broken,

Hello,

I am the lie, living for you so you can hide,

Don't cry."

Suddenly I know I'm not sleeping,

Hello, I'm still here

All that's left from yesterday.

How much she hoped this was all a dream, that it was a horrible nightmare. Hermione wanted it to be over. She just wanted to be happy in Draco's arms. They would hold each other for hours, not needing to say a word. There wasn't anything she wouldn't do to have that back. With these thoughts, Hermione drifted off to a night of uneasy sleep. Little did she know that one other person in her dormitory wasn't feeling as cheerful as normal, either.

The Draco Malfoy our little girl was so depressed over, wasn't feeling too quirky either. He couldn't stop thinking about her, and how much he thought he hated her. No matter how much he pondered about it, however, he couldn't understand why she would much rather be with Blaise than with him. Blaise wasn't as smart, as good-looking, as buff, or as good in bed as he was. But I guess it didn't matter, because all Draco was, was a Malfoy. He was a pureblood, a muggle would never settle for him. Draco assumed that that's why Hermione didn't stay with Blaise either, but this was outrageous. All this time he had been led to believe that she actually loved him, when all she had wanted was to get with his best friend? This was messed up.

Even since he had seen Hermione come home roughed up after the night at Blaise's, he hadn't spoken to her. Draco had returned to his old self, seducing girls, not that it was hard, and sleeping with them every night. He had turned into a man-whore. This made him feel better, he wasn't alone. If those girls weren't there with him every night, he would feel even emptier inside. Of course he never actually let any of them spend the entire night with him, because that was just too emotional and committing. The only girl he had ever slept with all night had been Hermione, and she had only been using him. He had never felt this betrayed.

Draco walked over to the bathroom, and took a hot shower, as hot as his skin would stand, and made sure to scrub off every single part of his body with tons of antibacterial soap to wash off any potential bacteria he could have gotten from that girl…whose name he could not recall. As soon as he was finished, he dried off and jumped into bed, deciding to go work out at the punching bag first thing tomorrow morning to fight off some anger.

Well, hello ladies and gentlemen, and those of you that aren't sure what exactly you are…hehe

I finished with finals yesterday, and I have already updated, as promised. I have to say that I was a little disappointed at the lack of reviews this chapter, but hope that this depressing one I have just posted will make you feel bad, and therefore, you actually review this time. I will most likely update again within three – four days, depending on how much your reviews inspire me.

Thank you for all of those who actually reviewed the last chapter:

Queen of Serpents: very good point. Its amazing how this story has been up for about a year and you are the first person to notice that. It slipped by me…hehe

ScRibBLrOfDrEaMs: you really have no idea how hard it is to write your name with all those capital letters and stuff. I think that once I was too lazy to do it and did it all in lowercase. Anyways, thank you, U Rock too.

…and many more who shall remain nameless…lol…they are on the review's page…

I will see you all in a few days, until then, thank you so much for reading my story!