Chapter One - Escape

She let out a gasp.

It was followed by a sharp hiss.

As sharp as the blade she held in her hand.

Then she hung her head, her eyes welling with tears.

Hermione looked down at the long line she had created on her arm. It seemed to hesitate, holding in the warm red life it held inside it, hugging onto it, only to have it slip away, welling over the skin she had just split open. The blood was now running down her forearm, from it's point of origin, below the crook of her elbow. It looked like it was running away from the cut, fleeing from the insides, as she wanted to do so herself. She watched it intensely for a moment, then looked up quickly, her head jerking back to look over her shoulder, her now long and straightened brown hair bouncing slightly. The room had seemed darker than before. Now the small amount of light that reached her eyes was blinding her, as if she hadn't seen the sun in days. It came from a small crack between the curtain around her bed. She had forgotten she was only in the girls dorm room, the hangings around her tightly shut, adhered together magically. She had spun around so violently, squinting in what little light entered her world, because of a sound. It sounded like someone coming up the stone steps, their voices cheerfully echoing off the cold walls of the corridor. Someone comign up from the feast in the Great Hall. Would they be looking for her? Did anyone notice she wasn't there? It seemed deafening to her, ever little sound amplified to her ears, picking up any small sound that could be her cue to hide. But it wasn't anyone. She had probably only heard the scurrying of a mouse, the scrape of a beetle, the graceful weaving of the spider. She was alone. Utterly and completely.

"Oi. Gerroff me!" a rough grumble came from under a mop of red hair at the breakfast table that morning. The Great Hall was filled with chattering students, as usual, and Ron was not in the mood to talk to any one of them. He looked up into the eyes of the person who had just crashed into his shoulder, nearly landing in his lap. It was only Neville, his round face beading with sweat.

"Sorry, Ron. Sorry 'bout that." He got up quickly, sitting back down next to Dean, who was giggling madly at his trick. Before seating himself, Neville tenderly lifted a tack off his seat. He frowned at it, all the while rubbing his backside. Dean broke his laugh only to cough out;
"It's the classics that are the best. Didn't need magic to pull that off."

"And I bet Weasel just LOVED that little lap dance. Didn't you, Weasel? Going to take Neville off for a shag now, you little faggot?"

The drawling voice that glided smoothly from the lilywhite lips of the speaker to the bight red ears of Ronald was owned none other than-

"Malfoy." Ron gritted his teeth and stared up at Draco, absolute fire in his eyes.

"Potter." Ron saw that Draco's eyes were not meeting his steely gaze, but reaching over the top of the fiery red head. Ron furrowed his brow, then turned to see a familiar face, one he had been waiting to see all summer long.

"Fuck off Malfoy." Harry sat heavily beside Ron, leaning forward to look around his friend. His hair was longer, hanging in his eyes, well covering his scar. But Ron knew that Harry didn't much care if anyone saw his scar. It was their seventh and final year at Hogwarts. Anyone worth knowing already knew who Harry was. No reason to hide anymore.

"I would, Potter, but it seems I can't find the person I'd like to fuck." The doors to the Great Hall opened, and Hermione walked through them, her robes tightly wrapped around her, her arms in the same fashion. Draco turned slightly, his eyes narrowing to the side, watching Hermione make her way towards them. Ron and Harry were still staring at Draco, unaware of their friend standing behind them. Draco licked his lips and smiled, returning his gaze to the two boys. "How ;bout your little bookish friend. Have you two seen her. Oh, that's right. You haven't. Well, she's 'round this tall," he gestured with his hand, "long, silky hair, beautiful brown eyes, nice, firm ass," again he gestured, "supple, round ti-" he was stopped by someone coughing madly beside Harry. Harry turned to see who was losing their lungs, then looked back to Malfoy. He did a double take. The girl sitting beside him was no exception of a beauty. Her face was framed perfectly by her long brown hair, her eyes were wide, and sparkling, her teeth, straight and white. He gazed at her for a moment more before he realised who, exactly, he was looking at.

However, Ron still sat, gaping up at Malfoy, a look of bewilderment on his face. "You mean…Lavender?" Lavender, who happened to be sitting across from him, opened her mouth in surprise. Malfoy rolled his grey eyes and hissed;

"I wouldn't want to touch her anyways. Filthy Mudblood." With that, Ron had jumped up from his bench and stood, towering over Malfoy. Malfoy had grown over the summer, but still was no match for the tall, lanky Weasley.

"Never EVER speak about Hermione that way AGAIN! DO YOU HEAR ME!" he shouted, his voice ringing throughout the hall, and sending a hush through the crowd. Malfoy casually looked down at his nails, and then up to Ron again.

"Uh…Ron." Hermione squeaked, and Ron turned to look at Hermione. He did exactly the same thing Harry did, double take, then stared at her blankly. She looked down shyly, and shook her head slightly, her hair falling in her eyes.
"Oh. Pretty, pretty." Draco strolled over to Hermione. The chatter in the hall began to rise again, the older years losing interest in the drama, seeing it too often. Draco put his fingers beneath Hermione's chin, lifting her face up to him. "Too bad you're dirty. I might go for a girl like you."

"Get out." Harry had risen, more gracefully than Ron's, and though a bit shorter than Draco, even more menacingly. Draco looked into his face, then smirked. He swept his robes aside, and exited the hall. Ron still had one eye on Hermione, who looked up at the two boys, her eyes wide. "Hermione."

She winced at her name, looking down at the empty silver plate in front of her. "Hermione." Harry said this with more urgency this time. Ron took his seat, as well as Harry. Hermione looked up, finally, into the faces of her two best friends. She hadn't seen how much they had changed. Their hair was longer, Harry's more so than Ron. Ron was taller, with a slight build to him, and his robes were no longer too short. Harry's face had matured, his features beautiful and defined. Yet they still looked at her the same way they had not seven years ago,

"Hey, guys." she said, and smiled slightly.