Disclaimer: I own nothing, just the plot.

Chapter Two

The corridors of the school were bustling with students, eager to begin the new year. Draco pushed hi way through the crowd, paying little attention to what he was doing and where he was going. His feet were set on autopilot; they knew the way. Meanwhile his mind was contemplating the events that had recently occurred on the train.

Hermione Granger, cutter?

Some would say that they would have never seen it coming. But Draco was not like some. He always had pictured the little mudblood full of anxiety and stress. Her entire reputation depended on her top of class status. Draco did admit that she was a brilliant witch. But brilliance comes with a price to pay.

But it couldn't be just the grades. Something else was going on…

Ignoring the stares her faced in the hallway, Draco managed to press on to the Great Hall. Submerged in his thoughts he found a seat at the Slytherin table, unaware of the awkward glances being thrown at him. He settled himself at the end of the table, guarded by a bad setting of lights, into the shadow that was his soul. More students spilled in one by one looking him over and whispering to their partner at hand.

Go ahead and stare you dumbfucks. See me tremble before your eyes. Not.

Then he saw her, accompanied by her two faithful companions. The tall red headed Weasel and oh-so-perfect Potter were deep in conversation as usual. Probably their lame ass fascination with quidditch. Wouldn't be surprising. Hermione trailed behind. Her presence seemed barely noticeable to the two other boys entranced in talking. Not shocking either. Both guys were two caught up in their own little world to give a damn about anything else.

I wonder if they know…

"Hermione."

Nothing.

"Hermione…"

Still nothing.

"JERMIONE!"

"Huh?" said Hermione broken out of her train of thought. Ron rolled his eyes and sat next to her.

"What has been with you lately? First you skip out on us in the train, you haven't said a single word since we got here… What's wrong?" Ron asked. Hermione flashed a small look at Harry. Sitting diagonally from her and in front of Ron, his eyes stayed glued to the table in front of him.

What's with him? He doesn't have to be so bloody pathetic like that.

"Nothing, Ron," she replied with a small smile. "I'm just fatigued I guess. Had a run in with Malfoy." She could have slapped herself for mentioning his name. Harry's eyes shot up instantly with a look of anger.

"What did that bastard do? Did he say anything to you?" Harry spat out no realizing how frightening he sounded. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"You've made this whole trip bloody awkward, don't give me a second look, and now you put on a defensive mode when I mention Malfoy? Great, just bloody brilliant!" Hermione scoffed, crossing her arms. Harry's features softened a bit.

"I'm sorry Hermione," he pleaded. "I didn't mean to—"

"Whatever," she cut in. "And no, he didn't do anything."

Literally.

"I wonder if the git can talk at all, being that he just got out of St. Mungo's," Ron cut in, trying to change the subject.

Hermione faltered. "St. Mungo's?

"Yeah, he apparently snapped and went crazy. Tried to kill himself…" Ron's voice faded from Hermione's mind as she took in the words.

He tried to kill himself? St. Mungo's? So that's why he—

"Attention! Students!" Her thoughts were cut short by the voice of Dumbledore. New students filed into the Hall in a single line led by Professor McGonagall. The young students-to-be were trembling as they made their way to the front.

The sorting ceremony was over before it begun. Every student was in his or her place. Dumbledore gave his usual speech about restrictions in the school. He glanced over at the golden trio when mentioning the forest being off limits. After a short welcome back speech, he sat down and food proceeded to fill each of the long four house tables. Predictably, Ron and Harry were the first to scoop loads of food onto their plates. However, Hermione's thoughts and eyes were rested upon another thing, or shall I say person.

Draco sat what seemed to be miserably and content by himself at the far side of his table. His eyes were locked on her ever since she had sat down, and she knew it. Not knowing what to feel or think, Hermione just stared back, wondering what was on his mind. Moreover, she wondered what was on her own mind.

How can he look so calm? If I were to walk in on someone cutting themselves…

Hold that thought. Hermione sadly looked away from the corrupted prince.

I'd probably ask for the knife and join them.

Pathetic. Worthless. A waste-of-space self-mutilator. That's all she was. A silent tear escaped from her lonesome eye. She wiped it away before anyone could notice. Struggling to calm herself, Hermione slipped back into reality and joined Harry and Ron in their mad feast.

Though she had looked away and indulged herself in what was a very measly proportion of food, the silver eyes of Draco Malfoy stayed glued to Hermione Granger in fascination.