DISCLAIMER: I don't own the characters or anything, you all know the drill…
Glancing out the window of the owlery she choked back a sob. The knife glinted innocently in the patchy sunlight hitting the window sill as the bushy haired girl's teary eyes followed Harry and Ron chasing each other around the quddich field. Turing from the sight she grasped the sharp object in her slightly trembling hands. Kneeling down she ran the knife through last weeks cuts, reopening the wounds. Wincing, she determinedly sliced into fresh flesh, intent on punishing herself harshly for the mistakes she made. Intensely focused on herself she didn't hear the soft footfalls on the stairs behind her.
Draco slipped upstairs to post the latest update to his father. He was extremely pleased that his father trusted him with this job. Spinning around the last corner he stopped and stared. His eyes focused on the sight before him. Hermione, kneeling in the corner, blood flowing from cuts which marred her pale arms. Startled she looked up, flinching as her cloak scratched the delicate flesh in her haste to hide her bloodstained wrists. Stunned, Draco felt himself being pushed aside as the distraught girl pushed passed him in her haste to leave.
Dispelling the thought of Hermione's distress from his mind Draco called his owl, Fergo, to him, tied the note to its leg and whispered his father's name. He followed Fergo's flight to the window, unaware he was standing in the exact spot Hermione had been when she was watching Harry and Ron. He watched as his owl disappeared over the edge of the horizon and then focused his gaze on a much closer scene, Harry and Ron. He could see clearly that the two boys were in love. He felt a pang in his chest as he watched them frolic. They may not have realised it yet, but Draco had a way with these things, and he could see they were meant for each other. As much as he wanted the dark-haired boy for himself, he knew he couldn't interfere with fate.