Toxic Kisses

Disclaimer: I don't own anything in this story besides the plot. Damn.

Author's Note: This is a Draco/ Hermione story. This is only the prologue so nothing has really happened. It's just a summary of her life so far. Most of it you probably already know the general events of each year since J.K. Rowling has already written books 1-5, but instead of writing in third person, this story is written as Hermione saw her school years. I hope you enjoy. Read and Review please!

Chapter song: Starless by Crossfade

(I originally had some lyrics, but demanded that everyone remove them or their account would be deleted. I'm not sure if it is an empty threat or not, but even so, I'm taking the proper precautions. I don't want to loose any of my stories. So, listen to the song while you read the chapter, or read the lyrics. Or don't do either. It's up to you.)

He was toxic. Period.

Everything. Every little thing he did was toxic. He was deadly, and I loved it. Many would question why I felt so strongly for a man that was disgusted by my own existence. A man who has disowned me since I stepped foot into Hogwarts. The same man who had tormented me since First Year.

"Mudblood. You filthy little mudblood. It's a shame you weren't born the day Lord Voldemort came into full power. I would have had him kill you first. Let you dangle in mid-air in front of everybody. Showing your filth to the world as they ravaged you. Your screams would be silenced. They would destroy you, until there was nothing left but a pile of ashes.'

The threats were endless. I've heard them for so long, they just all blend into one eternal line of death wishes. There was a point in my life when I let such things get to me. I was weak and insecure. I hid myself in my numerous books, and for years to come, I'd go down as one of the most brilliant witches Hogwarts had ever seen. Quite an accomplishment for a girl who was completely destroyed; don't you agree?

Along with hiding behind my books, I hid behind my few friends (Actually, I only had two until 6th year. But I'll elaborate more on that later). Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, the only two people in my life that made me feel like I was welcomed. Who knew that three rejects would become the most popular and well-liked trio in the school, without the Slytherin's consent that is. Those slimy gits probably have pages of parchment filled with reasons why they disliked – no loathed - us.

I used to think that they were jealous of my friends and I. I guess it was just my way of brushing off the fact that they genuinely hated me. At first I thought that maybe it was the way I looked, or the house I was sorted into (I love Gryffindor, don't get me wrong). But, underneath all of these false beliefs, there was one reason why I believed every one of them. I just wanted to be liked. I wanted to be accepted. It wasn't my fault that both of my parents were Muggles. It's not like I chose to be a wizard. Up until my eleventh birthday, I thought magic was just a myth. A fairytale told to children. Just a figment of some lonely man's imagination. A belief that had been passed down through generations.

But yet again, don't get me wrong. I feel blessed to be a witch. I just wish that my experience in Hogwarts was better than it was. I just wish the tormenting and never-ending teasing would just stop completely, you know? Everyday I would wake up and tell myself 'Today will be different. Today no body will comment about my hair, or my blood. Today... I'll be normal, just like everybody else. I'll be fine.' And everyday as I walked down those Hogwarts corridors, I'd hear those sniggers and sly remarks that the Slytherin's would shout in my direction.

'Hey look! It's the walking hair monster! Rarrr' They would shout and extend their arms out to make it seem like they were obese. The Slytherin girls would start their high-pitched giggling as my tormentors took short and heavy steps. 'Rarrr' They would continue to bellow. 'Rarrr! Look at me; I'm the hair monster nerd. Watch out… I might just attack you with my frizzy hair. It's just so big, along with every other part of my body.'

When this first started in first year, I would let them see how upset they made me. I'd let the tears burn my eyes as they snickered and laughed at my rage. They were bastards. It's too bad I didn't realize this at first. I honestly should have. I was the only person in my year to read Hogwarts: A History before entering Hogwarts. I should have known that Slytherins and Gryffindors had been life long rivals. I only had myself to blame for my stupidity. And blame myself I did.

At the tender age of eleven, I read as much as I could. I would excel in all of my classes, and to many, well actually everybody, I was a stuck-up, snobbish, know-it-all bitch. My intelligence level was the only thing I had that no body else could reach. I felt superior, and I loved the rush. Maybe that's why the Slytherin's enjoyed tormenting others. It was the only way they could feel good about themselves too.

So, for the first few months of my First Year I spent my time studying. I'd show off my knowledge during classes, and I felt great - no fantastic, until October 31st. After walking out of Charms, I heard Harry Potter and Ron Weasley talking about me. Well not exactly talking, making fun of me.

"You're saying it wrong. It's Wing-gar-dium Levi-o-sa, not Wing-gar-dium Levi-o-sa." Ron mocked me in a high-pitched voice. Did I really sound like that? "It's no wonder no one can stand her. She's a nightmare, honestly!"

As those few words spilled out of his mouth, I got extremely hurt. I was so naïve. I thought it was only the Slytherin's who'd torment me, but people from my own house did as well! It was horrible, and at that exact moment, it dawned on me. Nobody, not one person, liked me. I was a disgrace, and a mistake.

But you see, the one thing that made this situation even worse than it already was, was who said those few fateful words. Ever since September 1st, I had been envious of Ron and Harry. I envied their friendship, and how they seemed so close. Never in my life had I ever had a friend who I could just talk to. A friend who'd stand up for me. A friend who'd be there when I needed them. A friend who'd love everything about me, the good and the bad, the beautiful and the ugly, and most importantly, accept all of it with an open heart.

So for the rest of the day, I sat in the girl's lavatory and just cried. I'm pathetic, I know, but I don't think you can grasp the entire situation here. It was so bad, my life was terrible, and I can barely put it into words. I'm even surprised that I've been able to write this much so far. I have never told anyone about the way I felt, even after I became friends with Harry and Ron.

You see, after they heard that I had locked myself in the bathroom, they began to feel horrible. Surprising, huh? Well, I guess that night someone let a troll get inside of the castle, and just with my luck, it came to the bathroom that I was in. It started to destroy everything. I was terrified and alone. And, if it wasn't for those two boys, I probably wouldn't even be alive to write this story on paper, as I am now. Merlin bless their souls. I may be a brilliant witch and all, but at the age of eleven, I had never seen nor experienced a live and extremely large troll. I was so scared that I couldn't even process what was going on, until those two came running in. They knocked it out, and saved my life. Ever since then, we've been best friends, and thank Merlin for that. Without them, I probably would have died young. But, it wouldn't have been a natural death. Nooo. I would have taken my own life.

That's a completely morbid thought. Yes, I know, but at that stage of my life, that's all I thought about. Would life be better if I wasn't in it? I spent long sleepless nights pondering this question, and I never got the same answer. Some nights, when I really wanted to believe that I, Hermione Granger, could make a difference, I'd tell myself that I should be glad I'm here. I should be thanking the Gods for this astonishing opportunity. I should be grateful and pleased that I am able to become a witch and to be able to meet some of the most outstanding and well known wizards of all time. Those were the few and very scarce nights that I was able to go to sleep and wake up without puffy eyes. The rest of those nights, well they're pretty much self-explanatory.

If you were to just glance at my frail eleven year old self walking and gently pushing my way through the crowd of Hogwarts students to get to my next class, you would have never guessed that I was suicidal. After all of the tormenting and teasing, I learned how to hide my emotions, my feelings, and my thoughts with ease. If someone were to charm my hair blonde, straight and silky, and give me ice cold grey eyes, and make me a pureblood, I could probably have passed as a Malfoy. Well, my attitude could at times. There was so much hidden inside of me. So much that nobody knew about, and I wanted to keep it that way for a long time. Even forever if I could, but as you can see, I can't. I need to let everyone know. Maybe, when and if I get this story published, my tormentors will be able to see how they affected me. Maybe they'll laugh and be glad that they were able to get to me. To be able to crash and burn every single wall that I had built around me just so I wouldn't get hurt, like they had hurt me. Or maybe, just maybe, they'll feel bad. Perhaps they'd show a little sign of remorse. And maybe even apologize (that'd be the day – a Slytherin admitting that he was wrong).

Anyways, let's get back to the topic on hand.

During the rest of my first year, I had spent most of my time with Harry and Ron. We had become very close friends, maybe even best friends. But at the time, I wouldn't let myself think that. The last thing I needed was another disappointment in my life, you know? I had just finally started to build up those walls again. My suicidal thoughts had slowly started to disappear, and I finally knew what happiness was, even if it was for a little bit. The Slytherin's still tormented me, and I would just give them my fiercest glare in return. I was shocked the day that Harry and Ron stood up for me.

The three of us were walking towards Potions, which meant that there would be a lot of Slytherin students. I felt my stomach start to churn as they all stared at me. Pansy Parkinson let out a squeal of laughter and pointed at my hair. And that's when it began. The boys started to call me the 'hair monster nerd' and I just hugged my books to my chest.

"Hermione," Harry asked me. His emerald green eyes locked onto mine. Oh, how I loved his eyes, "What's going on? Why are they saying this to you?"

I looked away from and began to pick up my pace. "Hermione?" This time Ron asked. My two friends seemed genuinely concerned for me. This was a first. Should I take advantage of it?

"Don't worry about it. They do it all the time. C'mon, we're gonna be late for Potions. You know Snape always takes off points from the Gryffindors." I let out a nervous laugh. The boys didn't respond. Just laugh. Ignore the Slytherins.

"Hermione," Harry let my name slide off of his tongue, but I wouldn't turn around. I just kept walking. Almost there, almost there. We're almost to Potions. One more minute of this. Hermione do not look at them. Ignore them, ignore them. Don't listen to their comments. Don't listen. "Hermione!" I still didn't stop, so he jogged a little and lightly wrapped his hand around my wrist. I flinched and stopped. "Do they always do this to you? I mean, say these horrible things?"

I wouldn't look at him. I just stared at my books. Hogwarts: A History, Hogwarts: A History. I read over and over in my mind. I didn't want to answer the question.

"Hermione, please, answer us." Ron pleaded, and I just gave in.

"Yes, they do it everyday! Okay? Now let's not worry about this."

"Aww, look everyone. Famous Harry Potter is holding that filthy mudblood's hand. But it's no surprise, two freaks like them deserve each other." My head quickly turned to the voice. It was his voice. Draco Malfoy smirked when I looked at him. His grey eyes just shimmered with malice. He was leaning against a door frame with his arms crossed over his chest. Even at eleven, he was amazingly good looking. His blonde hair was slicked back, not one piece out of place. It wouldn't be until years later, when he let those gorgeous blonde locks gently fall where ever they pleased. But either way, he was still very striking.

"Oh fuck off Malfoy," Harry retorted in anger. Instead of having his hand on my wrist, he was holding my hand. I squeezed it, and he held on tighter. It was great having this kind of support. It was times like these that I felt powerful and secure. Like nothing could bring me down or destroy my perfect little world. If only these moments would last longer than a few minutes. If they did, this story would be a much happier tale, but it is not. "It's not my fault that I actually have feelings and I'm not a lifeless little shit who just lives off of his parent's money."

Draco's lips curled. "At least I have parents. But then again, if it wasn't for Lord Voldemort, the world would still be cursed with their retched beings."

Harry's eyes flashed, and he let go of my hand and started to lunge at Draco. "Harry, NO!" I shouted. He just couldn't get hurt. He was the first person to ever stand up for me, and I couldn't just let something happen to him. "Stop Harry!" I screamed. My voice echoed shrilly down the stone corridors. Both, Harry and Draco stopped and looked at me. "Harry, please, just come on. Forget about him. You're right. He's insignificant, and he's not worth your time. Just come on." I dragged his arm, and reluctantly he came with me, Ron in tow. As we made it towards the Potions classroom, I silently replayed everything that had just happened. Harry Potter had just stood up for me. My idol and now good friend stood up for me.

"Thank you Harry," I whispered softly into his ear as we took our seats in the dreaded Potion's classroom.

"For what?" He asked questioningly.

"For sticking up for me. It means a lot. No body's really ever done that before. You know, wow I sound really corny. I'm sorry, Harry. Forget I ever said anything." My face flushed and I looked away embarrassed.

"Hermione, don't be, and you shouldn't be so surprised. We're friends remember? Me, you and Ron. We're good friends, no best friends." I smiled as he said that. Best friends? Maybe I could finally believe it. "And part of the job description is sticking up for one another, and trust me, I always will be there for you. I promise."

He took my chin lightly in his hands and tilted it towards him. For an eleven year old, he was very affectionate, not like I minded. Our eyes locked. His never-ending emerald green orbs, and my honey brown, which were glazed over in thankful tears.

"Thank you Harry," I let out in a gasp. I didn't realize I had been holding my breath. He smiled, and then pulled me in for a hug.

That was one of the best moment of my life, as cheesy as it sounds, but it meant the world to me to finally have someone who cared for me. Sure, my parents did, they told me that they loved me, but they were never home. I know, you're probably thinking, 'but their dentists, it's not like their job requires them to travel.' Well, my parents liked to go out a lot. Ever since I was seven, they deemed me responsible enough to stay home alone. At times, I'd be in our nicely furnished home alone for a week at a time, and since I was only eight, I couldn't call anyone to come over, not like I had many friends as it was. When I was seven, they pulled me out of public schooling and got me a tutor. They decided it was best for me to be home schooled because I was being held back by the other kids in my class. I was only in first grade. How could they have possibly known that? We were just learning how to write numbers and letters. Oh well, its not like I could go back in time and change what happened. Maybe if they kept me in public school, I'd be able to make friends easier, and not be so intimidated. I guess I deserve the treatment I get, even though it's not my fault that I lived such a sheltered life during my childhood years.

Anyways, after Harry's declaration of friendship, the three of us, Harry, Ron and I, became the Golden Trio. Harry, who was already well known by the whole wizarding community as the Boy-Who-Lived (since his parents got killed by Lord Voldemort, but he did not, instead, he survived with small lightening bolt shaped scar on his forehead) always received much attention, but after first year, Ron and I did as well. As you probably know, Dumbledore had the Sorcerer's Stone hidden in Hogwarts, and being the curious eleven year olds as we were, Harry, Ron and I did some research. At first we believed that Snape was the one who wanted it, so he could give it to Lord Voldemort, but in the end it was Professor Quirrel. That was defiantly a shock to us. He seemed so… well, helpless and innocent. But as they say, looks can be deceiving, and they sure as hell were. After all was said and done, the three of us had saved the stone, and defeated Voldemort, if only for a short time. We were awarded house points and it was amazing. I think we even won the House Cup that year. I apologize. I can't remember. I have tried to block out so many memories from First Year, the bad ones that is. I'm glad I can still remember some of the happier ones.

Well, after First Year, I had to go back home. Once again, I was home alone, and since I was older, I saw my parents just about six times a month. It didn't really make a difference to me though. It's not like I really knew them in the first place. I never really had any good father or mother figures in my life. We had grown so distant, that I eventually considered them as room mates, if even that.

During the summer, which was about the longest three months of my life, I made sure that I kept in touch with Ron and Harry. They were the only two people who had kept me sane. And even though I would get letters from them, I still slipped into a deep depression. Being alone in a house constantly can do things to a person. No wonder Draco was the way he was.

One day, in the beginning of August, I just couldn't take it anymore. My parents had come home for only a few hours, and didn't even bother to wake me (they came home at midnight. Oh, what great fucking timing Mom and Dad) but instead, left me a note.

Hermione dear,
Your father and I are going to the America's. The dentist office is giving us time off. We won't be back home until August 27st. If we are up to it, we will go to Diagon Alley with you to pick up your supplies. Have fun, and don't destroy the house while we're gone.

-Mom and Dad

I read this over and over again. I couldn't believe it. They didn't even apologize, nor write, "Love, Mom and Dad." It was just a dash. They didn't even have the decency to put the note by my bed. Instead they placed it on the kitchen counter, right next to our knives.

I was so pissed. And that word barely describes how mad I was. Right after that note was left, I started getting suicidal again. I just sat on that stool, with that note in my hand, and thought back on First Year. Every single horrible encounter came back to me. Hair Monster Nerd! Look at me! Rarrr! Everything came back.

I screamed.

I couldn't take it anymore. I was dirty. I was filthy, and I needed to rid myself of this dirtiness. Maybe if I bled, just a little, I wouldn't be so foul. I looked to my right and there were our knives. We had every kind you could imagine. When I was younger my parents loved to cook, but not anymore.

I grabbed the sharpest that I could find, and I sliced my left arm. Over and over. I just cut into my creamy white flesh. My parents had forgotten my birthday. I was twelve, and alone. I was too young to be feeling this way. It was all their fault.

In a matter of minutes, I had made 10 long gashes down the underside of my lower arm. From my wrist to my elbow. I fell off the stool I was sitting in, and staggered towards the bathroom. My eyes were spilling over with tears, just like my arm was crying red. I stood in front of the mirror and just stared at myself. They were right, I had become a monster.

I slid down the wall, and just cried. For hours, I just cried as my arm bled. I had lost so much blood, and I was getting dizzy. My arms had begun to scab over, but even so, I knew I was in critical danger. I didn't want to die, but things had begun to look that way. But thank god for my reading. I knew how to perform a healing spell without my wand, and without attracting Hogwarts attention. I clotted my bleeding, and just passed out in the bathroom. My body just lay limp over the bathtub, and for the next 24 hours, I just slept there.

That had to be the worst summer I had ever experienced. It took me a full week to recover from my cutting spree, and even after the scabs had healed, I still had the scars. Ten pink lines that criss-crossed my arm, and every time I looked at them, they reminded me of how I rid myself of that dirty blood.

My parents did end up going to Diagon Alley with me the day after they got home from the America's. They were completely oblivious to my actions, and had no idea what I had done. I had taken the knife that I had used, and slipped it into my trunk. When they asked what had happened to it, I told them that I had let a neighbor borrow it, and it just never got returned.

They were so gullible. They believed every lie.

When I got to Diagon Alley, I was able to meet Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, who both met my parents, who in turn, played the whole 'I'm great, caring parents' act flawlessly. It was disgusting.

By the time September 1st came around, I was grateful. I couldn't wait to leave this hellhole for my true home. Hogwarts.

My second year was better than my first, but I still got tormented. The Slytherin's continued to make fun of me, and Malfoy even called me a mudblood. It was the first time I ever had heard him say it to my face. Ron was furious and poor kid, he attempted to curse Malfoy, but since his wand was broken (Harry and Ron flew to Hogwarts that year. Oh gosh, what boys) he cursed himself instead. I soon found out how much these two boys cared for me. We really were best friends.

Yet again, Harry, Ron and I had to fight Lord Voldemort, but instead as his younger form. Tom Riddle. Ginny, Ron's younger sister got involved. It was terrible. She almost died! But if it wasn't for Harry, she wouldn't have been alive. Bless his soul.

During this year, I was infatuated by a teacher. Professor Lockhart. I was such a fool, and he was a fake. Oh, what a pre-teen I was. I was captivated by his good-looks, but that wasn't the only person. Malfoy had become hotter, and everyone was noticing. I knew that I could never like him, because he just wouldn't like me, you know? He was a pureblood, I was a mudblood. It was like the whole Juliet and Romeo deal. We were forbidden lovers, not like we were lovers in the first place. We weren't even friends. Oh well.

After second year, I started up on cutting myself again during the summer. I hated the house and I hated my parents who I saw even more scarcely. Life sucked major ass, and I felt like cutting myself was the only way I could release this pain and anger. And that's what I did.

No body even found out. If I wore short sleeved shirts, I made sure I charmed my skin to be flawless. It was a simple spell. It was a look-away sorta thing. If you knew what you were looking for, you'd be able to see it. But the good thing is, no body wanted to see my scared arms, because nobody knew what I was doing myself. Who would have thought that the bookworm of my year would be cutting herself? Go ahead and tell somebody that, and they'd just laugh.

So, during third year, I was able to meet Sirus Black and Remus Lupin. They were two of Harry's father's best friends during his Hogwarts years, and even after. They were sweet men, and they cared for Harry greatly. It was obvious, and I wish that I had adult figures in my life who would feel the same the way for me. I was jealous of Harry, but I never let him see it. Remember, I had to hide my feelings, and over the years I had almost perfected that art.

As the years passed, the Trio and I had become closer. I was also very close to the Weasley family and loved Ginny with all of my heart. She was the only girl friend that I had, but that was okay, because she was brilliant. She had such a big heart, and loved everyone, and always tried to see the positive side in everyone. She was everything I wanted to be and more. If only that would happen.

My arms had acquired more and more scars. You could see every single one. The ones from the first year summer were very light, and the current ones a bright pink. I could heal them completely, but I liked them, in a weird and twisted way. They were a part of me now, and I just couldn't erase something like that. So, on my arms they stayed.

Sometimes I got depressed at school, and during my fourth and fifth years, I would cut. It was either because I was unhappy or stressed. It was my way of dealing with things.

Fourth and Fifth years were actually very stressful. They were bad for all three of us. It was the worst for Harry though. During Fourth he had the TriWizard Tournament and actually witnessed Lord Voldemort kill Cedric Diggory and come back to power. And then, during fifth, he had to see his godfather, Sirus, die. Those two years I cut even more than usual. It was unbelievable how addicted I got.

The teasing started to die down though. I guess it was because I started to fill out. My bushy hair wasn't as messy and frizzy, but more tame, and actually pretty. Something I thought was never possible. I had gotten some nice curves, and I actually filled out completely during the summer of fifth year, going into sixth. And this is where the actual story starts.

This is very difficult for me to write, since I had never let anybody know about my personal life, or get an insight of my actual feelings. I hope you understand how I felt. I'm not sure if I want sympathy or not, and even if you were to feel at least a little remorseful for me, it probably wouldn't help. No one has ever felt bad for me. Well not until sixth year. You probably wouldn't believe it when you read this. It was one of the most unexpected people. He was someone I never thought would care. Well, enough of my babbling. Now let's begin this story. Let me warn you though. It is not the happiest of all tales. This is no fairy tale, and I guess it's up to you to judge what kind of ending this story has. I won't tell you. I wouldn't want to ruin the conclusion. So turn the page, and learn about me, Hermione Granger. I am opening my soul and mind to you. Please be careful.

-Hermione Granger

A/N: Alright everyone. I just had the sudden urge to write this. If you want me to continue this review please. It'd be awesome if I got loads of reviews like I get for Love, Or Something Like It. If I got like 40 reviews for this one chapter (like it'd happen --) I'd probably update so quickly. But whatever. Please review. Please …

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