Hermoine arrived at Gryffindor Tower with Harry by her side. She felt closer to him at the moment then she ever had before. She hugged him once again and went off to the private room she was given for accepting the title of Head Girl.
She opened the heavy cherrywood door and looked around the magnificent room in awe. The walls were a burgundy color with black trimming. A mahogany framed canopy bed lay in the middle of the space. All of the furniture including an armoire, dresser, nightstand and chest was mahogany. Dark carpet covered the entire floor. A black comforter, sheets and pillows adorned the bed. Hermoine could tell that Dumbledore had taken her current life style into account when designing this room.
She sat on the bed and layed back staring at the dark, silk-like canopy. A sudden hunger arose in her and she made her way to the dresser. Laying on top was a black handled, stainless steel dagger. The metal glittered in the light of the lamp. It called to her.
Hermoine took hold of the handle and lowered the sleeves on her white dress shirt, exposing both of her radiantly pale shoulders. Aged scars marred the skin. But the discoloration was beauty to her. It was art.
She turned to her right shoulder and held the knife against the tormented skin. There, she carved an L. As always, the first cut was deeper than the second used for the bottom. She went over the bottom incision multiple times until she was satisfied with the amount of blood flowing from the wound. She switched side and carved a D into her left shoulder. Making the curve on the D was difficult, so needless to say, there were many cuts used.
When she was satisfied, Hermoine looked into the mirror resting on the dresser. Blood pooled in the cuts and slowly trickled down her upper arms. She felt so alive, she could barely stand it. The adrenaline rushing through her veins and spilling over her open flesh.
Hermoine wiped off the blood with toilet paper from the restroom and looked at her masterpiece. She was beautiful with the flaming red marks on her shoulders. She felt like a queen. She felt immortal.
She cleaned the blade and set it back where it was when she entered the room.Hermoine took off her now stained white dress shirt and threw it under the bed. She pulled out one of her own black tees that she slept in. The fabric of the shirt rubbed against her sore shoulders, reminding her of what she had done. Everytime she felt the ache, she smiled.
Once the high was gone,Hermoine lay in bed, thinking of Ron. Thinking of Harry. Thinking of Draco.
Her thoughts led her to a black abyss from which she unfortunately would have to wake.
b>Ahh, three chapters in one night. i'm rolling. But i want you guys to take these chapters seriously. It's a real disease for many people. I understand if you don't agree with the decision, but I thought it would fit well with the story I am trying to create. REview pretty pretty please! I put my heart into this chapter especially! love you guys
Rae