Hi everyone,

Sorry about the wait. I got a bit stuck on what to write. I'm trying to write the next chapter as fast and as interesting as possible. Review please!

SlytherinDream98

P.S I used some of J.K Rowling's pieces in "Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince", which sadly do not belong to me.

Was it wrong for me to fall in love with you? Was I wrong to follow my heart and do what I wanted? If it wasn't why am I still alive to suffer even more? I thought all the pain had disappeared when you killed me, but fate felt that I hadn't gotten my punishment. Is that it? Loving you was wrong and I had to come back to watch you ignore me, despise me, waiting for you to kill me again? Why won't you answer me?

The train ride had been slightly painful. Everyone who knew my secret was squabbling like chickens running from a hungry wolf, yelling and shouting out guesses of what had happened and protests of denial. I sat next to the window paralyzed, by heart beat ringing through my ears. I put my hand to my chest, feeling the fast beats of my heart, pumping with all its might to circulate my blood and keep me alive. What's the use? I had thought to myself as I stared at my skinny hands, paler than ever.

Suddenly, all my feelings came rushing back- my sadness, my fear of my friends abandoning me, my self-pity, and most of all, my anger. 'Shut up, everyone!' I attempted to yell. Of course, with no voice to assist me, no one noticed my opening of the mouth and continued on with their quarrelling. I felt my eyes burn but refused to cry for such a trivial matter. I hastily stood up and stomped my feet. Dean Thomas was trying to reason with Ron, who was curling his hands into fists and trying his hardest to not let his anger get the best of him. I tried grabbing Ginny's shoulder, but she shook it off, mistaking it as someone else, and started shouting how it was unlikely I had sold my voice to a wary traveler for ancient rune books, which was Seamus Finnegan's first guess. I rolled my eyes, not believing how silly my friends could be.

Pretty soon, fists were flying, slaps were heard and shouts of pain and anger rang through the compartment. People were gathering outside the door to see what the commotion was, some third-years looking ready to come in and stop us. I hurriedly waved my wand and cast a spell to drop down the blinds to block the fight.

My wand was knocked out of my hand as Neville- who was holding his jaw-crashed into me, my wand disappearing under the chair. I fell and landed on my bum hard and winced. I don't know if it really hurt or if I just had enough of my friends not listening to me, but I had had enough and let out a ear-piercing scream. Well, it was more like a loud owl screech but it worked anyways. It was the only sound I had made in weeks. Everyone stopped the fighting and glanced guiltily at me as I stood, biting my lips and hair wild, with my whole body seething with annoyance.

Then the door swung open and a breathless third-year girl broke the silence. Her eyes opened wide at the sight of me, openly tensing as though I were a wild animal. "U-um… I'm supposed to deliver these to Neville Longbottom and Harry P-potter." She held out two scrolls of parchment and turned scarlet as she glanced up at Harry.

I grumpily sat back down as Neville, Ron and Harry read the letters, "Hermione?" Harry sat down next to me and patted my knee, "I need to go with Neville to meet a professor. Please calm down, okay? I'm sorry." He whispered the last part. I gave him no sign I had heard him, and he guiltily stood up and left with Neville and his invisibility cloak. I narrowed my eyes: I knew he still doubted Dra-Malfoy and was going to spy on him. I blinked fast and breathed deep a few times as everyone settled down and shifted uncomfortably.

I had thought how to communicate with everyone during the summer. My mother had gone out to Diagon Alley and bought me a magic parchment pad- the paper would never run out unless it was burned, and the parchment was magically charmed to speak out the written text in a mildly French female accent. A matching quill was purchased with it that could scribble 6 times faster than my usual handwriting, and luckily at the speed of someone speaking. Grabbing both these items, I hurriedly scribbled " What happened isn't really all of your business, so can you just talk about something else?" I really wish the stupid French lady could have put some anger in her voice, but if it got my thoughts across I supposed it was fine.

Quiet chatter filled the room as the voice buzzed through the room and stopped. I ignored everyone and stared out the window.

Harry just rushed in, his face covered in blood. I hastily stood up, shouting "Tergeo!" as loudly as I could in my mind. I still hadn't managed to nail the use of all nonverbal spells, but the blood on Harry's face vanished and I gave a proud smile for my accomplishment. Where have you been? What happened? I scribbled.

"Thanks. I'll tell you later, Hermione." I leaned down to write something, but Harry stopped my hand and replied with a darkly significant voice, "I said later." I gulped, and Harry quickly patted my hand, telling me that he didn't mean for his voice to sound so cold. I grabbed a piece of bread just as the food disappeared and handed it to him.

"You missed the Sorting," Ron said, "and the Hat just blabbered on about house unity in the face of our enemies." They both took some pudding and stuffed them down. I inwardly winced. "Dumbledore mention Voldemort at all yet?" Harry asked, but Ron and I shook our heads. "Can't be long now, though."

Miraculously, Dumbledore chose that moment to rise, "The very best of evenings to you!" he said with his eyes twinkling, his arms wide. "What happened to his hand?" I heard Neville gasp in horror. So I wasn't the only one who noticed how Dumbledore's hand looked stone-like and dead-looking. Well, it was quite eye-catching, and the whispers filled the room. Professor Dumbledore hid his hand under his sleeves and continued on, "Nothing to worry about. Now… to our new students, welcome, to our old students, welcome back! Another year of magical education awaits you…!"

Harry whispered to Ron about how the Headmaster's hand was like that when Dumbledore had picked Harry up, and how it should have cured by now, but something about that hand took all my attention. I saw Dumbledore flash a look at me, a quick grin showed on his face, and something surfaced to my mind.

"-ione. Hermione!" I was jolted out of my astonishment by Neville, who was vigorously shaking my shoulders. "Are you okay?" I nodded, and looked up towards the Slytherin table. Those grey eyes matched mine- full of confusion and fear. "Please welcome our new potions professor, Professor Slughorn." Murmurs filled the room, and I saw Harry glancing nervously at Snape, as if any minute he could head over to the table brandishing a knife. I snorted quietly; It was highly possible he would do just that.

I wondered, for once, what Dumbledore was thinking. Why let Snape finally have his dream job as Professor of Defense against the Dark Arts?

"Now, off to your warm beds!" The chairs screeched back as many pairs of feet walked their way out of the dining hall.