Chapter 3 – Fire Is Unforgiving

Hermione didn't feel like sleeping, despite the fact that it was close to midnight. The train ride had exhausted her and when she'd been at dinner all she could think of was sleep, but now, she wanted nothing more than to stay awake, to scream, yell, break things. Do something. She thought that tonight sleep would be even worse then on an average night; tonight she was sure to dream of her parents.

Her trunk had been in her room when she'd first entered after revealing to Malfoy that she knew his little secret, she'd put everything away quite calmly, without the flow of tears, without feeling lost and betrayed. But now, there was nothing to keep her busy, and her anger took over.

Grabbing the picture of Harry, Ron and herself off her bedside table she threw it towards the door. The frame took most of the impact but she heard the glass shatter; it was a satisfactory feeling. She found more framed photos of herself and her friends, even pictures of other Order members, including Sirius, Dumbledore, Kingsley and Tonks; she'd had at least twenty. Each one of them found its way toward the door where it shattered. When she ran out she repaired each of the pictures and piled them on her bed. She was crying by now; she was even angrier by now. She now found herself using various spells to break the photos, but the feeling of satisfaction was gone. Her room was destroyed: lamps were broken, everything was strewn across the floor, but she didn't care. She repaired them again, and removed the picture from each frame. She then proceeded to banish the frames and tear up each photo. Then, with a large handful of shredded pictures she entered the common area she shared with the blonde git and walked to the fire and house elf had so kindly made for her. She proceeded to throw the shredded pieces into the fire.

Draco entered just in time to see Potter's face burning, along with several of the Weasleys, Dumbledore and some woman with pink hair. Draco looked at Granger quizzically, he'd never expected that. She hadn't seen him, and he wasn't in the mood for another flying experience tonight, so he retreated to his room once more. He prayed that he wouldn't be awoken again by the sounds of breaking glass and long strings of profanities that he didn't know Granger ever knew.

He thought about what the hell could've made the Mudblood so pissed at Potter and all his blind followers. He couldn't think of one thing. But once he figured it out, he promised himself that he'd milk it for all it was worth.

As he lay down he heard Granger sobbing, so he cast himself a silencing spell and willed himself to sleep.

Hermione woke up late the next morning, due to her antics the night before. She'd even found herself a bottle of Firewhiskey, it was probably Malfoy's but at this point she didn't care. She'd fallen asleep after drinking half of it, and woke up with a headache to prove it. She dressed as quickly as she could with her headache and performed a charm which helped her with clarity, she'd looked it up thinking Harry and Ron would probably need it one of these days, well now she knew she wouldn't be using it on them.

As she made her way down to breakfast her only thought was that Malfoy hadn't seen anything last night, she'd been stupid to go out into their common room, quite stupid. But she was sure he hadn't seen anything, hopefully their rooms were far enough apart that he hadn't heard the glass breaking.

As she entered the Great Hall she saw several people look up, and within moments they began whispering to their friends, who looked up in turn. It was probably because of her appearance. Her eyes were still red from crying, she was sure of that. Her hair wasn't its usual straight, and for all she knew she was walking in zigzags. Harry and Ron looked shamefaced, they couldn't meet her eyes and made no attempt to talk to her; apparently Dumbledore had told them that he'd told her, he'd probably said that she needed time alone too. Stupid old git. She noticed Dean Thomas sitting in her usual place; apparently they'd assumed that she wasn't going to appear at breakfast. Dean being there didn't bother her at all. In fact, it gave her a reason not to sit with Harry and Ron, the Dim Duo as she had taken to calling them last night. Honestly, they'd both be dead without her. And they knew it.

She took a seat towards the end of the table next to some quiet third years. She felt someone's eyes on her and she looked up to see Dumbledore watching her intently from the staff table, she just shook her head and looked back towards her muffin, which she'd taken a single bite of.

She left breakfast five minutes earlier than most of the other students; she didn't have a class for another hour anyhow; that was the perks of being an older student: getting to choose when you'd like to have a class. She did nothing for the next hour but sit in the common room and throw things in the fire that Harry and Ron had given her: a charm bracelet, earrings, candles; the only thing she didn't burn were the books they'd given her, she just ripped out the pages where they'd written their "Dear Hermione"s.

Her first class was muggle studies, a mixed class with only one other Gryffindor, and that was Neville. Surely she could talk to him, but that's when she remembered that he'd joined the Order just a few weeks after Ginny Weasley, Dumbledore had apparently seen the progress he'd been making in Dumbledore's Army. She sat in the back, much to the shock of the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws in the class. Why on Earth would a Gryffindor sit so close to a primarily Slytherin section?

The boy next to her was indeed in Slytherin, but she said not a word to him all period. She recognized him, apparently he was a good friend of Malfoy's, probably his only smart friend. He definitely wasn't a Crabbe or a Goyle. She didn't listen to what the professor was saying, it was only that "Welcome back, I hope you had a good summer. This year we'll be doing this and that," mumbo jumbo. It bored her, she didn't care. She continuously drew pictures of Harry, Ron and her; she'd then label them with odd names and rip herself out of the picture, much to the annoyance of the Ravenclaw in front of her. By the end of class she'd drawn a picture of all the Order members that she'd met using one of their distinct features of identify them, Harry's was his scar, Ron's was food, Dumbledore's was his beard, Tonks' had her hair, Kingsley had his lack of hair. Each of the Weasleys had something as well. Lastly she drew herself, standing away from the bunch, various speech bubbles came from her mouth that had specific spells in them. As the professor was wrapping up his lesson she drew herself a thought bubble, the words Avada Kedavra written haphazardly inside.

The boy sitting next to her, Blaise Zabini, found this quite interesting as he watched her scribble the words. He'd have to tell Draco about this, but maybe he wouldn't just yet.