A/N: Alrighty, in response to the lovely feedback, here is another chapter, and I hope it is decent. :(

Disclaimer: Not mine. Get it?

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Chapter XII

Hermione shut her eyes tightly, breathing heavily at the impact of the memories. She sighed and rested her head on the practically frozen glass of the window of the train, eyes flitting from the seats in her compartment, to the castle they approached.

Her lacks of morals seemed to have sent her conscience on a horrible tirade as she clambered off the train and suddenly felt dazed and confused. Her sympathies mostly went out to Remus, not herself, and she felt completely horrid for the guiltiness that most likely had come over the werewolf.

She ran a hand through her crisp and onyx layers of hair and stole away into the nearest carriage, making sure to glare at any passerby's in case they got any ideas, she needed to be alone and especially needed to think. Fortunately, not that many students had gone away for the holidays and she was left alone. The ride was bumpy and soundly, yet she ignored it as she felt those damned tears roll down her cheeks. Regret was harsh with her, and had always been. When she had sent Snape flying into a wall in her third year she had felt like a complete monster.

It was natural for Hermione Granger to feel bad for others before herself (which she doubted had continued this year, with all her moping and weeping) and she just wanted to scratch out the eyes of anyone who came near her. The frustration was certainly on a high level.

This was all too confusing, but hadn't she just thought on the train about her surreal her life was now? She was supposed to be reading, criticized jokingly by her friends, and figuring out ways to get Malfoy expelled. A game she had joined Harry and Ron with in her sixth year after said man had gotten even more slimy than before.

The ride ended and she entered the castle, not sparing any glances toward those who greeted their friends with gifts and hugs, and climbed up the steps to her own personal common room.

"You're a horrid person, Hermione Granger," she muttered as she casually approached the entrance to her personal quarters and whispered the password.

Everything was just as it was when she had left, but now she was all strung up again. It was like this school decided that "pained" was going to be her permanent emotion when in attendance.

She plopped onto the couch and longed for one of those cigarettes that Audrey Hepburn always had available in Breakfast At Tiffany's, a muggle movie favorite of hers. She didn't agree with smoking, and knew the relaxed look on a person's face when smoking was only due to the addiction, but it was the old cliché use of them that piqued her interest.

Instead, she accio-ed a book over to where she sat and skimmed through the pages, listening to the flapping of papers as they smacked against each other in the almost silent common room, save for the crackling fire in the hearth nearby.

Her hair fell into her eyes as she looked down at the yellow parchment that made up the textbook. It was old. With an exasperated sigh, she tucked the strands behind her ears and continued.

There was a knock at the entrance of her quarters and she looked up, dearly hoping it wasn't a couple who longed for privacy. She slowly stepped over, and pulled the door open, finding herself staring into the violet eyes of Professor Von, who looked a bit curious.

"Miss Granger," he grunted with his thick accent and low voice.

"Professor," she retorted, surprised that he knew where her rooms were, "how can I help you?"

"I was wondering if I could get some help," with those words, a small smile formed on his thin lips.

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Hermione had never been so thankful for so long as she sat in Professor Von's office, looking through the many incompetent (and a few decent) essays by the first years. The Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher sat across from her, reading over the essays from the fourth years.

"Thank you," Hermione spoke up again as she put a scroll of parchment aside and grabbed another.

"No problem, Miss Granger. Albus informed me of your love for knowledge, and while this is not very enlightening, Albus said you would find it quite entertaining," Professor Von stated.

"Professor Dumbledore is eery at times," Hermione joked, as she wrote a comment on the paper with her purple ink.

"Indeed," Von agreed and looked toward her work with a raised eyebrow. "You would make a decent professor, Miss Granger. No, cut that, better than competent teacher."

"Thanks."

Without warning, the door of the office burst open, and a swirl of robes was all Hermione could see at first before Snape's face came into view. His look was impassive, so Hermione felt a tad confused as to why he was there, and saw that he didn't even see her as he made his way over to Von.

"Severus," the slightly older professor greeted with a smile.

"Why didn't you tell me?!" he growled in reply.

His expression surprised Hermione; he looked shocked, furious, curious, and intimidating all at the same time. These expressions were not very familiar to the young woman on said man's face and she was certainly not very able to speak.

Von's face went serious and he sighed, massaging his forehead. "I made a promise, I was sworn to secrecy. You were not supposed to learn of it."

Hermione just stared at the two, half-wanting to leave the room and half-longing to stay and find out what the hell was going on.

Snape advanced on the very slightly shorter man and grabbed him by the scruff of his robes, but before he could do anything more Hermione cleared her throat, turning slightly in her seat, adjusting her skirt that was annoyingly riding up her thighs so they were back below her knees and staring up at Snape determinedly.

His eyes widened slightly at who had been witnessing the events that had occurred and sighed with exasperation.

"Miss Granger, may I ask why you are in Larten's office?" he glanced around, and the tone of his voice awoke Hermione as to what he was insinuating.

"Professor, I would never! Honestly, I was helping him grade essays and relieving stress," she said, then covered her mouth at the way her words sounded.

Von chuckled and walked back to his desk, shaking his head. "Severus, unlike some, I do not sleep with my students. I am happily married, as you know."

Snape glanced between the two with raised eyebrows before rolling his eyes and sighing. "I, ahem, apologize for my assumptions, but I have witnessed many things before that could speak differently."

At those words he looked at Hermione with a piercing stare, unlike the way he used to look at her during the holidays and while she had been spending time in the Hospital Wing, a stare that no longer said he tolerated her bookwormish attitude.

Understanding dawned on Hermione and she gasped quite loudly and dramatically. He had seen!

She covered her eyes and look through her fingers as Snape sent a nod toward Von before exiting the room without getting his "billowing black robes" caught in the door, like she had always hoped to witness. He was so melodramatic.

"I am sorry, Professor, but I need to think a few things over."

"Now, Miss Granger, I am sure Severus meant no harm."

"It's not that, he was right about some things that I truly regret," Hermione sighed, grabbing her book bag and sweeping out of the classroom, tears forming in her eyes.

It was not Snape's fault, he had just made her discover her mistake, and he had the right to.

She went from a fast walk to a run as she made her way through the castle, passing by curious peers and a confused Draco Malfoy.

She stammered the password and stumbled into her room, slamming the door shut behind her, leaning her back against the cold wood and letting herself slide down to the floor.

Too many mistakes had been made and she wanted it all to end, soon, very soon. Her whimpers turned into sobs and she slammed her fist against the door.

"Where the hell has reality gone?" she asked no one in particular as she clutched at her hair.

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After the tears had dried, the sobs had become mute, and the frustration replaced by an impassive feeling that added weight to the nausea in Hermione's stomach, she found herself heading into the Great Hall for dinner.

A place had seemed to be saved for her at the end of the Gryffindor table, in the shadows, and she did not hesitate to claim it when entering. She began feasting on a roll, ignoring the stares she attracted, either due to her new hair or her unemotional attitude.

She glanced up and found her eyes connecting to those of the Potions Master, but he just looked away, as if he shunned her for having gotten drunk and kissing a former colleague of his. But why would he be so pissed? The Snape she knew would be rubbing it in her face (probably) and threatening to use that information as a form of blackmail, which sounded rather ingenious in her opinion...

Hermione felt sick and pushed the third piece of bread she had had away. She set her chin on the propped and pale hand of hers and gazed around the room, her eyes pausing on gray orbs that seemed to be directed her way.

Malfoy peered at her for quite a while, and she returned it with a curious stare. His eyes never diverted and she felt a bit uneasy. She sighed, and stood up, exiting the Great Hall.

She sat down on the steps of the Entrance Hall, knowing he'd follow, and she was correct. He stepped into the tall room and glanced toward her, frowning.

"Hermione," he said, moving towards her cautiously, it seemed he had learned of what happened to those who approached said girl too quickly.

"Yes," she replied with a soft voice as she stared in another direction.

"I ask you to believe me for just this once, then," with this he sighed and paused, "I'll leave you alone for good."

Hermione looked up at him with curiosity.

He took a deep breath and sat beside her, an expression on his face that said he knew that he was risking his pride.

"You know, I am not a man of apologies. I am too caught up in myself and Father to know of how others feel. But you should understand, I have grown fond of you over these past years, as I treated you horribly at the same time," he closed his eyes for a moment. "I am definitely not a decent person. I am an arsehole, actually. A snob, a fool, a man who was so willing to join the Death Eaters, an idiot..."

Hermione didn't give her retort, she just stared at him as if he had two heads.

"I don't know, Malfoy," she whispered, lowering her eyes. "Gods, this all seems so surreal. All this, and I am being so bloody self-centered throughout it all. I don't even know how I can forgive my former best friends."

She looked up at him through the thin strands of her dark hair and watched as he bit his bottom lip.

"I really like you," he sighed, lifting himself from the step and Hermione watched him with a forced look of stoicalness.

She sighed and put her head in her hands, and he stopped mid step on his way to the Great Hall.

"I am an absolute bitch," she muttered, kicking the stone wall next to her.

"What?"

She ignored him, thoughts going on a rampage. She had snogged her former professor, brushed away a boy who clearly liked her, and acted like a complete flirt with Fred. This was all like some horrible nightmare, and she dearly wished it would all end soon.

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A/N: Aww, the pains of Hermione increase, shall she be healed or hurt more? Think cliché everyone. Review!