"What are you doing!" A voice so full of angst is the only thing that can shake me from my trance. I look up to see Ginny. Her eyes are watering and the expression on her face is heart breakingly sad. But how could she ever understand? She doesn't feel the way I feel, she can't even imagine this thirst I have inside me, this quench for something to change, for everything to be right and okay again, for Harry to be sane and for my mum and dad to be alive. I need for some justice to be served.

My wand is in my hand, shaking beyond belief. That's the only show of emotion I am revealing. Nobody could see the turmoil going on inside me at that moment. If any one were to look without knowing any better, they would think me a Death Eater, and Malfoy an innocent victim.

I have an image in my head; him overlooking my parent's deaths, smirking, thinking that they deserved to die just because of what they were and who they had breed, laughing with his little Slytherin friends, looking every bit of the snake he is.

It's my fault! The thought rips itself from my throat and I realise from Ginny's change of expression that I've screamed it. The thought is what fills my head now. If I hadn't been born, they would still be alive. If I hadn't gotten my Hogwarts letter, if I was just a normal teenage girl, no harm would have come to them. If I hadn't gotten myself involved in these dark things – Harry and the Dark War – things I had no right getting myself involved in, I would be able to return to them now, hug them and never let go.

Now I can't, and it's my fault.

Not all my fault. But, at the end of the day, I'm the one that the real blame lies with. There's no real question of it, not in my mind. But I understand that Draco's involvement in their murder is his fault, and he should be punished. I don't care for his feelings – why should I? Every opportunity he's had, he's reminded me of my common blood, he's reminded me that I do not belong in the world he was raised in. He has never shown any compassion towards my feelings; he's watched me cry with gleeful grey eyes. No matter what, I will never forgive him.

I'm looking at him now. His screams have died down now. His knees must have fallen in as he's crumbled to the ground; only half upright, kneeling. As if he's praying to me. His eyes are scrunched closed; he cannot see me. He can feel me though; feel the pain. I want him to. His jaw is clenched and fine tremors run through his body as if currents of electricity are running through him.

Pray to me, Draco. Pray for our pain to stop.

Ginny seems to have learned how to move again. Poor ignorant Ginny, she hasn't got a clue. She scuffles with me, trying to knock the wand out of my hand. She's too small. I tower over her and the wand is way above her reach. Poor ignorant Ginny, so tiny in her little school uniform, witnessing a person she may consider her best friend, with sudden wickedness in her hand and torturing a fellow student. Ginny hasn't got a clue. Not about anything.

I wish I could be ignorant again.

Harry told me before in the Hospital wing after fifth year about how he'd tried to curse Bellatrix. Despite all of his anger and anguish, he hadn't been able. He'd still been too good for that. Righteous anger…But I'm different, I'm not like Harry. I'm not that good. I never have been really. Harry and Ron…they're somewhat similar; simple with their emotions. I can read them both like an open book, new Harry obviously an exception. I've always felt there was something different inside of me. I could do things that would even surprise myself; like cursing Snape in first year or trapping that terrible Rita woman in a jar and blackmailing her whenever she was of any use to me. Things that were sly and cunning, and not at all general Gryffindor traits, things that were more Slytherin than anything else.

I was surprised in fifth year. My plan to leave Umbridge to the centaurs was both clever and cruel. Malfoy was impressed by that too; I had seen it in his eyes when it had all come out (for the truth never remains hidden in Hogwarts). I know I'm different; I know that Harry would never have been able to cast Crucio on Malfoy, no matter what had happened.

But Harry had killed his uncle…

Does that mean I can kill now too? Are their new rules now? Now that I've lost so much, can I make others suffer as much? Is that how it works now?

"Hermione, please!" Ginny's crying now. She doesn't understand; how can she ever understand? I don't even understand. I'm getting no pleasure out of this, I just can't stop. Not now, not yet…

Not until…

I feel it happen. The currents of electricity give one last surge and the tremors in his body stop. The screaming inside my head stops too; pausing in disbelief. The wand drops from the shaking hand and stillness hangs in the air.

Draco's body drops to the ground slowly, not moving.

Ginny's breath is shaky and ragged. She moves to him as if this is a dream. I watch, nonplussed. She kneels to him, fumbling for his wrist, goes totally ridged, and closes her eyes. I wait for something, not breathing. She reopens blind eyes at me and gasps, "I can't feel a pulse."

He's dead?

Murderer…

I'm no better than the scum who killed my parents. Emotions flood me; a confused pool of half felt feelings and illogical thoughts.

Murderer…

"No!"

The shout is more a plea than anything else. No, oh please no, please God or anything that's out there…please, after everything, please no…

"You…you have to run," Ginny gasps now at me, her voice gone. "Hermione, you have to get out of here. Go! Now! Don't let them find you!"

Yes, Ginny's right. I can't see their expressions, their accusing tones, their disappointed faces. I can't go through that, it'll drive me mad.

Murderer…

I turn and run, clattering through the hallway, blindly. "Accio Broom," I yell and a broom comes to me, probably some innocent first year's. Petty theft is the last thing to grace my mind. All I can hear is the blood rushing in my head. I continue to run with the broom in my hand. I run and run and run, leaving all of it behind. There's nothing but pure adrenaline keeping me going now. I run through all the loses I've had and all I'm losing now. By running from this building now, I really have nothing left. I reach a window, I'm high up in one of the towers, near the Ravenclaw common room. There is nobody here to stop me; I am completely and utterly alone.

I don't stop running. I jump from the window and somehow entangle myself with the broom so I do not meet the ground. The thought of leaving myself drop does not occur to me; all I want to do is escape from them. Death would no be an escape; I have damned myself forever and I am already in hell.

"I'm sorry," I whisper to whoever may be listening but the sentence is stripped away of its meaning by the cold, lashing wind and lost forever. Just like Hermione Granger.

I actually quite liked this chapter. I know it's a bit slow, but I figured that was a good way to finish the chapter. I'm slowly getting more inspired for this; I have a couple of ideas for it now. I will have time to write anyway, this summer appears to be boring already.

I'm turning seventeen next Monday. I can't believe I'm seventeen, and have achieved so little. ;-(

Thanks to PinkTribeChick, Alenor, and illyria-light.

I like the new layout. I just hope they'll let me upload this. I love the story's stat page where you can see which story is on people's alerts and favourites. It's cool – I love things like that.

See you soon, and, like always, please review. Inspire me! Please?

Oh yeah, next chapter; new POV I think...I have someone in mind but who do you think it should be?