Disclaimer: I don't own anything cept the plot and Matt.

A/N: Thank you to all my reviewers, I appreciate it. But, there is no pairing in this story. There are no couples and I'm not planning on making any. Hermione and Matt will be friends not Love interests. But anyways, on with the story!

Hermione stroked the beautiful owl for a little while, simply staring at the note. She knew it was from Matt. Her name was written in the same tidy handwriting as her get-well card. He knew too much. How could she have been so stupid to reach out with her left arm like that? She'd been hiding the cut for days but she'd thought the scar wasn't really visible. Well, she was wrong. With a sigh, she untied the letter.

Dear Hermione,

Look, I'm sorry for pushing you. I'm just concerned is all. If something in your life is so bad that you have to hurt yourself like that, then you have GOT to tell someone. I read a book once about a girl who killed someone and she refused to tell someone and she ended up committing suicide because she couldn't live with the secret. Tell someone! Preferably a counselor or a teacher or someone who can help you, but if not, tell Harry or Ron or if worst comes to worst, please tell me.

-Matt

Hermione stared at the letter for ages. She had read that book too. The text had made her cry at least 3 times. Maybe four. Was that what would happen to her? She wondered. Oh god, she hoped not. Could there possibly be anything worse? Hermione didn't want to die, she wasn't ready. She would never commit suicide. Cutting her skin was just an anger relief of a strange type. It didn't mean anything.

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Later that night Hermione was still lying awake in bed. It was pitch black and she couldn't see her hand in front of her face, but she could hear the other girls softly muttering and occasionally moving around in their sleep. The things written in the letter were really getting to her. What if she really did end up like that, depressed and alone and …dead. Just the other day Ron had quite charmingly told her she looked like a walking zombie. Maybe she had neglected her decisions and resolutions of appearing Happy and acting normal. Perhaps she should get her act together, before someone else suspected something else was going on. With that thought in mind she turned over onto her side so that her back was just an inch from the wall. Then she told herself off and faced the wall, taking deep breaths to calm herself. Eventually, she fell asleep.

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Next day, Hermione was dawdling on her way to Muggle Studies. She figured if she got there at the last second and left as soon as the class finished, then she wouldn't have to talk to Matt. The late bell rang just as she opened the classroom door. He was sitting in the second row and he watched her glancing purposefully at the empty seat next to him. Hermione pretended not to notice and claimed a desk in the very last row.

By the end of the lesson, Hermione had about a quarter of a page of notes in front of her. Sighing heavily she gathered her things and packed her bag. As she straightened up she bashed her head against something hard. Looking up, she saw Matt, equally pained, waiting for her to recover. Hermione tried to get past him but he just sidestepped and blocked her.

"Matt, I really don't have time to talk right now. I'm sorry but I have somewhere to be." She lied.

"And where is that?"

"Uh, the library, I'm meeting someone there."

"Right, well we can talk on the way then." Matt told her.

Hermione just kept walking.

"So, um, did you get my owl?" He asked nervously.

"Oh, yes I did! Was that your owl? He was absolutely gorgeous, did you get him in Diagon Alley?" Hermione tried to change the direction of the conversation.

"Yes I got him in Diagon Alley. Hermione please stop procrastinating, did you read the note?" He said, sounding slightly exasperated.

"I read the note, and I've read that book too. Look, the school counselor is coming in tomorrow, so I'll talk to her then. But, I'm not going to tell you, at least not yet, coz I don't know you, and your eyes… I mean um, do you want to get a butter beer with me next time we go to Hogsmeade? Hermione stopped at the door of the Library and looked at her boots.

"Yeah, sure," he agreed, "I think we're going this weekend aren't we?"

"Yeah, so, I'll see you there." Hermione pushed open the door of the Library and breathed a sigh of relief.

A/N: So there you go. Just so you know I am experiencing major writers block with this story so it might take a while to update. Please Review.