Author's Living, Breathing, and Dying Alone: So, yeah, to all who care, I am very, truly sorry for what Hermione did… Okay, so nothing really going on with Malfoy yet, and there won't be for a right long time so just keep your Black Knights at bay. And what of this new philosophy of Hermione's? Where will we go with this? Personally, I have no idea. But when I come up with one, I shall tell you. And, as an added bonus for you little birdies, I'm going to add a scene (as well as I can remember it) from one of my first fan fictions, enjoy!

Review Responses (A Public Service Announcement):

hotpinkfreak: aa to you too.

The train ride wasn't half way over when a knock came on the sliding glass door. Neither Harry nor Hermione knew who this guy was, but Harry didn't like the looks of him. He had a rather shady look about him, what with his black and shaggy hair and purple eyes. It was, as far as Harry could remember, the only person he had ever seen with purple eyes. On some rare occasions, he met someone with bright yellow eyes, but never purple. This struck Harry as strange, which, again, Harry did not like. The boy was rather good looking, and scrawny like Harry himself. But it wasn't the type of scrawny Harry suffered from – lack of nutrition, countless days shut indoors, etc. – but a naturally awkward look of lankiness. It rather suited him. Harry was intimidated by this boy.

However,

Hermione was intrigued by him. This boy was absolutely gorgeous! He had such a smile on him; Hermione couldn't even believe how beautiful it was… (A/N: Karly, if you are reading this, imagine Christian's smile. Much love - Kathryn.) The boy merely grinned at Hermione through the door before for some moments before he slid it open.

"Hello… My name's Frederick, but everyone calls me 'Dirty Jew'" Frederick joked. Hermione laughed while Harry only scowled. Frederick now looked at Harry with uneasiness, he said to Harry, "That was only a joke, you know… And yes, I am Jewish," he added to Hermione, who looked inquisitive about the joke. "Seriously though, call me Derick," he winked at Hermione. "Well, I'm new here as you can tell… And I was wondering if I could sit in this compartment, as it's so empty…"

"Of course you can!" Hermione squealed. He grinned that grin again and sat down across from Hermione. She, meanwhile, took in his style. He was wearing tight, black pants and a black "The Misfits" tee shirt. He also had a studded belt and a lip ring on. 'Wow,' Hermione thought. 'An Emo person in the flesh… Black fingernails, jelly bracelets and all!' He had on some black tennis shoes, and damn did he have big feet! 'We all know what that means!' Hermione chuckled at her own thoughts.

"Are you done staring, Miss?" he interrupted her fun.

She giggled nervously and said, "Well, yes. But I'd rather not just stare…" Derick raised his eyebrows and looked toward the window. Hermione looked too, and saw that it was raining. How she loved the rain…tonight would be a good night. That is, if Derick got in Gryffindor.

And oh yes, lovely readers, Derick did get in to Gryffindor. Everyone at the House table, especially the girls, cheered as Derick ran over to a seat next to Hermione. "WOO! GO GRYFFINDORS!" Frederick raised his arms, completely jubilated. He panted as he spoke to Hermione, "You're pretty."

She dropped her fork with laughter. "You are so weird..." she said chuckling.

"That's what they call me… Hey! Potatoes!" Derick shoved his mouth full of them. Hermione stared at Derick for a while, admiring the way he moved and the way his hair fell onto his face. She sighed and he looked over. "What?" he said.

"You're pretty, too," she rested her head on her hand and looked into his eyes. He mocked her, the little sigh and everything. She slapped his arm playfully and returned to her plate. As we all know, Dumbledore's dead, so, at the usual time The Headmaster stood up to speak at dinner, a new Head Mistress stood up, "Welcome back!" She had a booming voice so loud that everyone jumped.

"Welcome, welcome, welcome! New students and old friends, to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!" the woman motioned her hands for everyone to cheer. "My name is Camille Glendora, or Professor Glendora, and I am your new Headmistress. I am most aggrieved about your former Headmaster, most aggrieved indeed… But let me assure you, I could never take his place here, and I don't intend to," Camille paused, tears shining in her eyes; Hermione thought she did seem very sincere. "But if there is one thing I have learned about grief, it is not to dwell on it. Sitting around and thinking about what you don't have will always lead you somewhere wrong. False hopes and yet even more grief will await you there, if you decide to follow the path. And now, off to bed with you all," everyone cheered after this speech, especially Harry, having learned that lesson long ago.

"Wow…" said Derick. "That was really amazing. I'm really sorry about your Headmaster; it must have been horrible for you. I know it would have been for me. My Headmaster at my former school was like a father to me…" his eyes were wide and he looked down at the table. "It really just… just makes you think…"

Hermione grabbed his hand and looked at his expression, thinking about the speech. How could it have affected him so drastically? Hermione pondered the question until Frederick looked up at her. "Let's go do something," he said, shaking off his strange disposition. Hermione was glad to hear this, she was terribly bored. Derick led her behind a tapestry and motioned for her to be quiet. As the noise of the students died away Derick peeked out to see if the coast was clear, and it was. He took Hermione, who was rather giggly, outside, and they ran across the grounds. They collapsed on a hill and looked at the stars above them. Derick pulled out a fag and lit it.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa…" Hermione said. "What are you doing? Smoking isn't allowed, even if we are of age." Derick took no notice and simply put a cigarette in her mouth. "Oh, fine…" Hermione gave up. Derick lit her fag and they sat up. He looked over at her and grinned.

"So, what do you Hogwarts girls' do for fun?" he said, still smiling.

"Well… Normally, we have a fag and sit on a hill. But, as I've shown you that… What do guys like you do for fun? And hey, where did you come from anyway? Like, what school?"

"Drakenson's Academy of Magic and Mystery… It was a dumb school, really. All the teachers were hateful and cruel; the kids there were always on crime sprees. It was just horrible. I'm much happier here," he took a puff of his cigarette, "and what did we do for fun…? Hmm… We mostly just listened to music and talked. Sometimes we skated a bit, but not really. We were part of the more laid back group."

"Okay… Can I ask you something?"

"Go right on ahead. Shoot."

"Exactly how deep are you? I mean, how much is there that we don't know? Or at least, that I don't know." Hermione asked bluntly but still gracefully.

"There is much you don't know, young one. But you will learn with some training," he inclined his head in a bow sort of motion, "may the force be with you."

"Oh shut up!" she kicked his shoe lightly. "But wait, you know about Star Wars? Are you a Muggle Born?"

"No, I'm pure down to my bones. It's just that I wish I could be a Muggle, it seems so much easier, ya know?" he fell on his back again, star gazing.

"It's not, I was a Muggle for the first eleven years of my life, and it's no joy ride. Why on Earth would you want to be normal?"

"Because I like the idea of being clueless, just like lost. Seeing strange things and not knowing what happened to cause them. Just being completely ignorant to the rest of the world… I love not knowing." He took another puff, "What I mean is, don't you ever feel that way?"

"No. I'm the opposite of you. Well, I don't want to be. I'm sick of hiding behind books and always knowing the answers, I'm sick of being me."

"Well," he propped his head up, "there are two options, one is, you can either accept who you are and get on with your life," Hermione looked sour at that suggestion, "or you can change," he said simply, as if it was the easiest thing in the world.

"Change? Like how?" she asked him.

"Well, you could start with your appearance, and maybe the rest will follow," he paused, "and seriously, girlfriend, those shoes have just got to go!" She laughed and thought of what she wanted to look like. She definitely did not want to be Emo, and not Gothic, and not Preppy… What could she be besides a nerd? Then it came to her… 'Derick will know. I will be what Derick thinks looks cool, cause I don't care about anyone else's opinion… So I'll just take his and run with it.'

"What direction should I go with this change, Derick?" Hermione asked.

"I'm not too good with fashion… Maybe you could be punk?" Hermione thanked him for his suggestion and snuggled him. "We'd better get back or they'll lock us out. C'mon." He got up and yanked her with him. They walked back to the big, wooden doors and said nothing all the while. When they made it to the Portrait of The Fat Lady she was asleep. Derick pulled out a Sharpie and drew a mustache on her. Hermione giggled and said, "Powdered Lognick." The painting swung open, still asleep, and Hermione and Derick crawled in. "So this is it… The Gryffindor Common Room. Ours was much gloomier – and we didn't have a fire or any comfy cha-" he meant to have said 'chairs', only Hermione cut him off with a spectacular kiss. "Holy shit," he exclaimed.

"Good night, Derick," she said as she scurried up the stairwell. By this time, she had long forgotten her problems with Ron. It didn't hurt anymore, but she knew that if she saw him, much less with his girlfriend, that things would end up messy. And that wouldn't do at all, now would it?

Derick stood love struck in the Common Room. "What a woman!" he said to no one in particular. Derick trudged up to his Bedroom, only to meet someone along the way. "Oh, hi Harry… What are you doing up so late?"

"What were you doing up so late?" Harry spat.

"I was out with Hermione; she really is a fantastic girl. I'm dying to know more about her," Derick said.

"Well, you just watch your back. Because if you hurt her…lemme put it like this, you don't want to hurt her. Or you will have me to deal with. She got hurt once already by some heartless bastard, and she's just now getting over the ordeal. But I suppose it's because you like her… So don't fuck things up, or I'll be waiting…"

"Okay then," said Derick. "I won't, I could never harm a girl that beautiful, on the inside or out. You don't have to worry about me, I'm an okay guy."

Harry turned around and walked up the stairs, "Yeah, we'll see…"