I don't own Harry Potter or anything he comes with.

A/N: Hey guys, I know this one is short but I've decided to continue with the story. I just recently got out of the hospital and had to drop out of college so I have super amounts of free time. That, plus you all seem to really like this story. I'm going to update regularly with longer chapters but I wanted to get this one out to let you know. Please remember to review because that's really what gets me writing. (someone reviewed today so you can thank them). I hope you like chapter three.

Hermione stumbled into the Great Hall after her encounter with Malfoy. She couldn't shake the feeling of panic at having ridden with him all the way to the

castle. Why hadn't he said anything to her? And, and even better question; why had he ridden with her at all. She walked with a daze and plopped herself

down at the end of the Gryffindor table. She had no interest in the first year sorting this time around. She just wanted to go to her room and tend to her

wounds. She wanted to create new ones. It had been a scary day; the day she started cutting. She, Hailey, and Aiden were at the park, the usual Sunday,

when Aiden's sleeve had risen just a little. It was enough for Hermione to cry out in shock, there were red, deep, scary marks all down his wrists. Aiden

sheepishly explained to Hermione his guilty pleasure and pain release. She hadn't known what to think at first but she went home that night and gave it a

try. She had ripped apart her razor and took one of the blades out and scratched it across her wrist. It had given her such a high that she hadn't felt in so

long. She cut with the tiny blade over and over, riding the endorphins all night. She could really use that pain release right now. The endorphin high she was

so used to using. It got her through the day.

Coming out of her thoughts she saw the red fluff of Ron's hair coming her way; Harry striding right next to him.

"Hermione!" Ron belted, "I've missed you."

"We've missed you," Harry smiled.

"Hey guys," Hermione managed. "How was your break?" Not that you took the time to contact me at all during the summer months she mentally added.

"Awesome."

"Yeah, fantastic."

"Harry spent the entire summer at the Burrow. We played quiditch and ate and played more quiditch. It was the best summer ever!"

"Oh, that's great. I think I'm going to head to the dormitories."

She scurried out of the Great Hall so quick after that conversation. Stupid boys. She really needed to cut. She needed to feel better. The stress from the day

was beginning to get to her. Running up the stairs to the seventh floor, Hermione had a better idea. The Come and Go room. The Room of Requirement. She

could hide in there. She could use that room to harm herself. No one would ever find her. Changing directions she headed down the hallway to the wall she

needed. There was already a door there, though. Stepping inside she noticed it was a quaint little living room. Set up in silver and red. There was a fireplace

with a roaring fire and several love seats surrounding. The chandelier that hung in the center was magnificent and just barely fit the décor of the room. She

walked over to the middle couch and plopped down right in the center. Finally, she thought, somewhere to hide. She ripped off her cloak and pulled out her

blade. Holding it tight in her hand at first to feel the power, she took it to her wrist. The relief was instant. She cut once, twice, a dozen times, until blood

was dripping to the floor. This is what she had been waiting for.

"What the hell are you doing?" someone exclaimed.

Hermione quickly turned around, slapping her hand over her wrist to try and hide what she had done.

"What the hell are you doing." The man asked again.

Oh fuck, Hermione thought, it had to be him. Malfoy of all people.

"Malfoy," she started, "I was just leaving."

"Oh, no you don't. You're going to sit your arse down and tell me what the fuck you were just doing. Hell Granger, why you were doing it. What is wrong with

you? Are you trying to die?"

"It's none of your business, Malfoy, let me go."

"You want to go, fine, but we are not done with this conversation."

Hermione fled the room. She couldn't have Malfoy know. What was she going to do? He was going to tell the whole school. She couldn't have that. She

couldn't handle this new development, either. This was the second time Malfoy had been civil to her. Pushy, yes, but civil.