Disclaimer. Really, rather redundant here.

A/N-Ya, short. I know. Makes sense now though, doesnt it?

Hermione cried for a long time. Crying made her feel better. She didn't consider herself an emotional person, but this; this was something that anyone would be a wreck over. She lay on her bed for a long while, even after the years stopped. She was completely and utterly depressed. She needed chocolate. She needed a drink. She needed something to help her remember to forget.

Hermione crawled out of bed, and checked the time. It was only 10:06. It wasn't that late, she decided, and grabbed some cloths, and decided that a long bath was in order. She needed to relax, and she felt a deep contentment when she was engulfed in warmth. She loved the summer, and everything that was warm. She detested British winters, and was jealous of her cousin who lived in the warmer areas of the USA.

She ran the water, and the tub slowly filled up with lavender scented bubbles. She slowly peeled her cloths off, and turned the faucets off when the bath was a decent depth. She sunk into the bath, relishing the heat, and relaxing effects of the lavender.

Why had Draco kissed her in the first place? Did he fancy her? No, of course he didn't. He was Draco effing Malfoy, what could he possibly see in a mudblood like her? There had to be a reason for his actions, but, for the life of her, she couldn't think of one.

She continued the lay in the bath, thinking about all that is Draco, and his mind. She also wondered why she had reacted so badly. It wasn't like she disliked what he had done. In fact, she had enjoyed it a lot. She had to admit, although only to herself, that she fancied him a bit. Now that they were on friendly terms, she had gotten to know the real Draco, and liked him for it. She had dreams about him before, but nothing like what had actually happened only a little while before.

Hermione gave up on her thoughts, and crawled out of the bath. She was a prune, and the water was getting cold. She grabbed her towel, and dried herself off. She walked over to her mirror, and looked at herself. She tried to find anything about her body that Draco would have liked, wondering, again, what had caused his actions earlier.

She looked at her smooth, white skin, her brown hair, loose about her back, and her honey brown eyes. She saw her decent sized breasts, and hips, noting that she was a fairly normal size. She continued to look at herself, when her eyes came across the same scar that Draco had asked about days earlier.

Hermione's mind fluttered back to when she had gotten the scar.

"NO!! Don't touch me!!" Hermione screeched, as he grabbed her breast, giving it a rough squeeze.

"Shut up. You like this, you little slut. You're just a cocksucking little whore." He sneered back at her.

"Fuck you!! Get off!" Hermione continued to screech, as his hands trailed down to her waist.

Hermione fought, punching whenever she could, and tried to kick her attacker. Suddenly, she felt a new pair of hands on her, pulling her arms back.

"Not so tough now, are ya bitch?" he whispered, slapping her across the face.

Hermione felt dizzy. She knew what was happening, and knew that there was nothing she could do about it. She only hoped that she would pass out soon, so that she didn't have to face what was happening to her. She let her head drop down, feeling completely helpless.

Hermione's head flew up. She looked down, and saw HIM, biting her shoulder, hard enough to cause blood. She felt sick, and dizzy.

She looked up to see him smiling at her, as if he knew that he had the upper hand, and this brought a new rush of energy through her body. She fought back again, wrestling her arms from the other man. She punched him in the face, and turned onto the boy behind her, swinging her arm into his stomach. He dropped to the ground, and Hermione kicked him. Hard.

Suddenly, she felt heat across her leg. She looked down to see a trail of blood pouring down her thigh. She looked up, and saw him. He had a knife in his hand, and looked ready to kill.

He grabbed her arms, and threw her to the ground, hard. The fall pushed the wind from her lungs, and she felt dizzy again. Luckily, soon after he had taken her pants off, she escaped into darkness.

Hermione was crying again. Tears streaming down her face. She was abused, beaten, tortured, and broken. She was nothing. No one could love her, she was damaged.

Realization caused her tears to stop.

That's why Draco had kissed her. He knew that she was a worthless slut. He wanted her as a toy, something to do when he was bored.

Hermione felt like a rock had settled into her stomach. She left sick. He knew the truth. She was worthless, a slut, a whore. She was inferior, and weak. That's why he did it.

Hermione got her cloths back on, the tears having started again. She walked over to her bed, and lay down. She reached over to her table, and pulled out a bottle of pills. She opened the bottle, and took a pill out. Sleeping pills. Her doctor had given them to her after she complained about insomnia during the summer.

She popped the pill, and sank deep into sleep, wishing that she wouldn't wake up.