A/N- Sorry for the delay. Life got a little crazy for a few. So here is the next chapter.

Disclaimer: I still don't own. I still wish.

She was back, chained to that floor in Malfoy Manor. The vaulted ceiling stared down at her, taunting her, daring her to try and get away. She could feel the burning in her arm that told her the vile word was still carved into the flesh. She was shaking uncontrollably. Fear held her body paralyzed in an icy grip. Her eyes darted from corner to corner in the room searching for any sign of Bellatrix.

She felt sick as the bottom dropped out of her stomach and she felt herself fall through the floor. She landed with a hard, sickening crunch as she looked around. There was nothing but blackness surrounding her as she slowly stood. Her legs felt like jelly and barely supported her weight. She took a step forward and fell into a pathetic heap tearing her already ratty clothing even more. She looked up towards the place she had fallen from. A small speck of light against the blackness was her only comfort here, one very small piece of hope against all the darkness that invaded her senses.

That light was blocked out. "Why would we ever want to be your friend?" a disembodied voice asked.

"You are too weird. Too smart. Unnatural."

"There was no real friendship."

"Too easy to fool."

Too easy to break."

Harry and Ron's voices swirled around her, invading her mind and taking over her thoughts. She stood and ran. She didn't know where she was going but she kept running.

There! Up ahead there was light. She realized too late that the light was broken by bars. She was in a cell. On the other side Ron and Harry were holding onto each other trying to stay standing while they pointed and laughed at her.

"The Mudblood actually thinks we will help her." The image of Harry was pointing at her arm.

"Why should we? She is filth, just like Bellatrix marked her." Ron laughed and doubled over.

Tears streamed down Hermione's face. Harry pulled his wand. "We don't need you anymore. Avada-"

"NOOOO!" Hermione shot up out of bed. Sweat poured from her in waves and she shivered against the sudden cold that enveloped her body. Scrambling against the blackness that was the early hours of the morning she grabbed her wand. She couldn't see, the darkness was suffocating her. "Lumos," She whispered quietly. A small ball of illumination lit up the end of her wand. She looked around. The thick red curtains that surrounded her bed provided a shield against the rest of the room. They were also the borders of her silencing charm.

Scrambling off the bed, she dug through her trunk and pulled out a pair of worn jeans and a tight fitting t-shirt. Pulling off her pajamas she dressed and grabbed her skates. She walked down to the common room before putting the knee high rolling shoes on and lacing them comfortably. They had been the last gift her parents had given her before she had sent them to Australia. They hadn't been too thrilled when she had given their memories back, hence the reason they weren't speaking and she was no longer welcome in their house. Her parents had tolerated her magic but having it used against them had been the last straw.

The doors to the infamous and much sought after room opened to reveal an entire derby court complete with spinning dummy's, whose arms were set at different heights to test her as she went around the track. She took off. Keeping her body tight and her arms close she built up as much speed as she could. For the first few minutes she skated to make the memories and nightmares stop racing through her mind, stop torturing her.

She was just beginning to clear her head when she was struck across the side by one of the spinning arms. She fell and her head struck the hard wood floor, not hard enough to render her unconscious but still hard enough to make the room spin. Getting to her knees she shook her head to clear it and gingerly touched her side, then added more pressure. Nothing felt broken so she stood again.

This time around the track she focused on weaving and jumping and keeping herself perpendicular to the floor, which worked most of the time, although more than once she found herself flat on her back because of a minor miscalculation. The girl hit her head several times during this exercise and had to wipe blood off her face, to keep it from dripping in her eyes, more than once. Standing she made her way to a window. The sun was up. Which meant it was time for breakfast. Which meant she had to face the entire student body again. This time though it wasn't the students she was worrying about the most. Professor McGonagall. Professor Can't-Mind-Her-Own-Fucking-Business-McGonagall. Wonderful.

Hermione left the room and headed for the Great Hall. Upon arriving she skated towards the empty portion of Gryffindor table. Before reaching her destination however Pansy Parkinson kicked a Slytherin bench into her way. Hermione grinned at the blatant, though easy challenge. Pushing off a little harder she sped up, jumped and easily cleared the width of the bench, sat down on it, then turned and stuck her tongue out at the gaping girl. Finally she moved and sat in her customary place, with atleast4 seats between her and anyone else.

Up at the head table Madam Hooch, the yellow, hawk-eyed, professor of flying arched an eyebrow and watched as the young woman grabbed a napkin, wet it with water and used her spoon as a mirror to clean patches of dried blood off her face. The things on her feet were, intriguing, to say the least. The pure-blood with had never seen anything like these things before and she was eager to know more about them. So she watched the young woman all throughout the morning meal. When she stood to leave, so did the professor, who headed to intercept her.