It's TRUE, Hermione's a DHr Shipper.
Chapter 3:
A rose garden. Gravel crunching under her feet. A sweet smell – more roses. The gentle sound of water running over rocks. A little girl skipped along, heading for the water. She giggled as she went, the happy picture of childhood. Her hair was curly and brown, pulled into two loose pigtails. She looked to be around five or six, and she was wearing a purple checkered dress with a broad blue sash. A voice called out in the distance, "Come here, my dear!" The girl ran toward the voice an innocent smile across her joyful face. She turned a corner and was gone, hidden behind a hedge of tall rose bushes. Hermione tried to follow, pushing through the roses, but her hands tore on the thorns and she awoke with bloody hands.
She was leaning against a tree in the corner of a small park, the type found in suburban neighborhoods. Looking up, she was confronted with the concerned and unfamiliar face of a stranger.
She and the young and very attractive (not that she noticed- she only had eyes for hott Slytherin seekers) man stared at each other for a long minute, each studying the other's face. Finally, Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but the stranger beat her to it.
"You fainted. I called for a Healer who should be here any minute to see you to the hospital. I think it's best if you don't try to move – or talk."
Hermione's puzzled look quickly changed to one of anger. "You— you what! I don't need to see a doctor and I certainly do not need to visit the hospital. I'm perfectly fine. And I'll decide when and if I should like to talk, thanks." Her voice had become angry but cooled into a controlled, but very obviously furious, voice at end of her speech.
"Really?" said the stranger in a voice that seemed almost amused. " 'Perfectly fine.' Then you could surely answer me as to why you came running out of no where, as though the Dark Lord himself were after you in a temper, and then suddenly collapsed on the ground where you began to shake and roll around as though you were having some sort of seizure. And look-" he picked up her hands as he said this, "your hands are covered in blood. Surely these are not usual qualities in someone who is, as you say, 'perfectly fine?'"
Hermione glared at him. "I have no need to answer for my behavior unless I have harmed you in some way. Which I see I haven't." She pulled herself up to her feet. She was determined to leave before the Healer would have time to answer this madman's call and force to the hospital. She had been there once before…. Hermione suppressed a shudder and collapsed back onto the ground
The stranger looked amused, again. "Like I said, you are in no condition to move."
"I'll judge that for myself thanks," Hermione replied, glaring. Again, she struggled to pull herself onto her feet. Again, she collapsed. She tried again.
Finally, the stranger said, "Here," and held out his hand to her just as she had almost managed to get back up. Her face held a look of concentration and then stubbornness at his offer to help her. After she collapsed the third time, the man grabbed her hand, threw an arm around her back, and lifted her up onto her feet. When he took his arm back from her shoulder she almost fell again, so he replaced it and saying, "you planned this just to get close to me didn't you?"
Hermione's shocked face made him laugh. "So are you enjoying yourself?" he asked in a conceited voice, pulling her closer. She pushed away from him, managing to stand on her own – finding strength in her anger.
"What do you think you're doing?" She practically shouted. Being so close to a man had reminded her of Draco. She had lost track of him. Then she remembered his horrible betrayal with the woman inside that store. "I have places to be," She said abruptly, and turned and walked away, limping slightly with no direction in mind but to escape the world. She needed to be alone for a while.
Behind her pathetic figure, the strange man shook his head disapprovingly. 'What a character,' he thought to himself, 'what a character.' But he secretly admitted to himself that he did wish to see that strange woman again, if only to find out what she was hiding. She had looked as though she hadn't had a decent meal in weeks— and she looked so shaken. But he shrugged his shoulders and walked away. Maybe they would meet again.