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AN: There may be trigger warnings in the chapter. This will be a somewhat dark story, and does have an 'M' rating. Please take that into account. But it's nothing too graphic.

Count How Many Tears

Tonight I'll stand in the light so you can count how many tears fall from my eyes... This time I'll be alright, my heart can't get any worse.

-The Starting Line

October 1979 – Hermione's POV

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Reading Hogwarts, A History had always given me such pleasure. I knew most found it boring, but it had such wonderful information. It told a grand tale of the beginning of the school, the founders and some secrets and legends the castle held. It told of the castle's limitations, but also of the school's greatness.

One thing it held very little information about was the Come-and-Go room - a room that seemed to hold limitless possibilities. One simply had to think what they wanted, what they needed and it would appear. That was some magic to behold.

The Room of Requirement.

Transformative magic beyond anyone's comprehension.

As I stood there – in front of that expansive wall where the room was hidden – I thought of its mystic, its splendor, its potential, its ability.

Taking the strength that I needed from the school, from myself, from my phantom Harry and from Fawkes' gentle trilling, I closed my eyes and allowed my imagination to paint a picture of what I needed.

Pacing quietly from one side of the wall to the other, I thought hard …

A safe place … a room where things are hidden … a place where no one could enter except for myself and Fawkes … the rest of the school safe from harm

A safe place … the room where things are hidden … a place where no one could enter or exit except for myself and Fawkes … the rest of the school safe from harm

A safe place … the Room of Requirement … a place where no one, no, no, no one could enter or exit except for myself and Fawkes … the rest of the school safe from harm.

This is what I needed, and as I stopped for the last time in front of the blank expanse, the wall began to morph.

Old, wooden doors began to appear, weathered with age, yet beautifully intricate in design.

Slightly trembling, I reached out and twisted the aged door knob. The heavy door opened with a slight creak, allowing me entrance into its hidden depth.

As I stepped in, I knew that things now changed. I willingly took that step, knowing I was changing history, changing a timeline and turning time on its side. I knew destiny wouldn't be happy with me (if such a thing even existed) but it was a chance I had to take. Many countless had suffered, many innocents had died, and terrible atrocities were committed.

I wasn't some hero, or some super brave person. But I was a girl taking charge and embracing an opportunity presented to me. I accepted it wholeheartedly and the responsibilities that came along with such a monumental decision.

I knew little of my situation, how I had gotten here, where I was to go or how I would eventually end up, but I knew one thing – Voldemort was going down and that bastard was going to die.

Death was coming for us all, and I was determined for Death to find Voldemort rather sooner than later, like a dark, dangerous friend.

Harry's life depended on it … Harry, Ron, James, Sirius, Remus, Dumbledore, Tonks, the Weasley's, Lily, my muggle parents and so many, many, many others.

With my nerves, stretched beyond comprehension (but my strength resolved) I stepped fully into the room and allowed the heavy wooden doors to close behind me, close me in and protect the rest of the school from the evil that resided in this very room.

I was determined. I was scared. I was giddy. I was apprehensive. I was Hermione Granger and ready.

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Wisps of memories caressed my skin unwelcomingly. The hairs on my raised flesh stood on end. It wasn't the cold of the room which made my skin pebble, but the ominous feeling slithering along my spine, to the very pit of my stomach.

The room was just as I remembered: piles of broken, forgotten things littered the floor and stood in tall piles. There must have been a century of neglected items cluttering the walking paths of the cavernous room.

Raising my eyes to the ceiling, I took in the grand arches of the wooden beams and dusty chandeliers that decorated the dome. Shudders of gloom and doom continued whispering in my ear. The only thing that stopped me from jumping out of my skin was Fawkes comforting weight on my shoulder and his warm plumage rubbing against my cheek. He really was a sweet, brave phoenix.

"Thanks, Fawkes. We have a special friendship, yeah?"

His haunting trills were a spelling answer.

No one really knew of our connections. It was something so very special that I kept close to the heart, something I didn't even share with Harry. Some things were meant to be kept silent.

Our bond had started one lonely night on the Astronomy Tower. The air had been crisp that night and the stars in the firmament spectacular.

My heart had been broken and the solidary tears were running heavily down my chilled cheeks. I had no friends to speak of and it seemed as if every child in Hogwarts hated me.

As I went to swipe angrily at the fallen tears, I had let out an embarrassing yelp. Something slightly heavy and hot had landed ever-so-softly on my shoulder. Slowly I turned my head and looked into the most understanding eyes I'd ever beheld. The dark orbs held such wisdom, compassion. No pity.

Precariously, I reached out and touched the most beautiful bird I'd ever seen. Gently he lowered his head and allowed me to touch him. Soft trills danced on the air around us, blanketing us with lazy contentment.

"You're a Phoenix," I said stupidly, surprised all the same. I could have sworn Fawkes smiled at me indulgently, but he simply chirped, as if answering my question.

"You are so very beautiful, boy. Yes, you are." He raised his head and stared so poignantly at me. My heart started to pound erratically. I didn't know what was happening (and to this day I still do not understand), but Fawkes did.

"Thank you," I whispered in amazement, completely in awe of this gorgeous creature.

With my confessions of an outcast that night and his gentle, lulling lullabies he sang to me, we created a very real, very tangible bond.

The brilliant star-lit sky had been our friend that night, too.

And as the night waned into dusky pink, he flew away.

Leaving as mysteriously as he came.

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Our bond had only continued over the years, and as I started this new, terrifying journey, I found that brave beautiful Phoenix with me again.

"Shall we, boy?"

Soft chirps sounded in my ear, encouraging me to continue on.

My footsteps seemed to echo around the room, bouncing off the large piles of junk.

Thankfully I knew where to head and what I needed. I only needed to grab the Horcrux and get the hell out of here. Quickly I picked my way around the junk, working my way further into the labyrinth. Every now and then I would startle, convince I'd seen something, but Fawkes's presence would bring be back to focus.

And before I realized there it stood – in all its tainted exquisite glory – the not-so-lost Diadem of Ravenclaw. It really was a dazzling piece of history: the wings that stood forever out stretched, the diamonds that lined the feathers, the large blue jewel that banded the entire tiara together, and the most famous words of Ravenclaw house 'Wit without measure is a man's greatest treasure.' scrolled along the bottom of the diadem.

Simply magnificent.

It was so easy to see why Tom Riddle coveted this piece of history. As if in a trance I reached out for the diadem. A mere centimeter from touching it, I felt a sharp pinch on my outstretched hand. Chirping madly in my ear was Fawkes. I can only imagine the things he said to me; but, even his scolding sounded hauntingly aching.

Shaking from the stupidity of my actions, I pulled back and tried to center myself. These were dangerous times, and with one wrong move I was dead. This was no time for fool's remorse and scolded myself to do better.

"Thanks, Fawkes." He rubbed his face against mine.

As I went to look at the diadem again, something terrible started to happen. As if sensing it was somehow in trouble, a terrible smoke started to appear from the metal.

I instantly fell back, putting as much space between the rotten thing and myself. Sadly, Fawkes fell from my shoulder, but I didn't have much time to pay attention, for something started to appear from the tiara.

Before I could make out a shape, terrible, disturbing images swam before my eyes.

"Harry, run …

"The fire, it's cursed. It's fiendfyre, Harry."

"Vincent! Vincent, Noo!" Malfoy yells, as we all watch the cursed fire greedily eat Vincent Crabbe.

"Don't curse him, you bloody bastard!" I yell at Goyle, who tries to curse Harry with dark curses.

"Hermione, behind me! Let me for once protect YOU." Harry screams at me as I try to push him away from Goyle's dark curses. "No, Harry … No. You have to live. YOU just HAVE to. I CAN'T."

I tried to shake myself from the visions, from the memories, from the trance the diadem had me in, but before I was free, something darker started to cloud my vision: something dark, sinister and one of the most traumatizing times of my life.

I am left alone in the drawing room. I can feel the slices in my neck, feel the blood trickling down from where Bellatrix cut me with her knife. I can feel the beginning of the curse slice in my arm as she tried to cut me there, but was stopped by Malfoy. "The Dark Lord would want her somewhat unblemished, Bella," Lucius oily commanded. They argued and she stomped off in a strop, not being able to play with the Mudblood.

She pulls Draco and Narcissa with her, wanting to go and get Potter and call the Dark Lord. I am left alone with Lucius, all but broken and defeated on their dirty stone floor.

Several Cruciatus curses have been placed upon me. My nerves are on fire; I feel as if I've been stabbed with thousands of fiery needles. How I'm alive still, I can't tell. My throat is beyond torn from screaming and calling out for my Harry.

But I don't blame him. If I had to endure this again, I would. I'm no martyr, I just have to protect the other half of me.

Lucidly, I hear footsteps approach. Before I can turn the other way, I feel a shoe on my face, roughly turning my face about.

"Tsk, Tsk. Look at you now, Mudblood. No better than the dirt on my floor."

I want to scream 'go to hell' but my throat won't function.

"Such pity. Such wastefully pity." I haven't the slightest what he's on about and I barely care; my entire body's on fire. I feel as if I'm crying blood.

My eyes fall from him, and I know this makes him mad for he brings his foot down on my stomach. I curl over in new waves of pain, gurgling my pain for I cannot scream anymore.

"Don't look away from me, Bitch. I'm your superior." I would scoff if I could. The only thing he is greater than me in is stupidity.

He kneels on said dirty floor and grabs my face in his grasp. He pinches me hard, but I hardly feel it. I'm smarting still from his shoe in my gut.

"How are you such a waste?" He sounds almost like a confused child. He is truly mad. "So dirty your blood is, yet you can withstand Bella's curses and remain sane." He looks at me as in a stupor. "You are sane, yes, Mudblood?"

"… to hell," is all I'm able to spit.

He laughs as if in some grand comedy. "Yes, still sane." He almost lovingly caresses my face. Copious amounts of disgust course through my body at both his insanity and assaults he makes on me. "And didn't you know, darling Mudblood –" he leans in closer and whispers hotly in my ear, "– this is your hell."

I find some hidden strength and try to pull from him, try to get the hell away from him, get to Harry, and get the fuck out of this crazy hellhole I've fallen into.

But he pulls me back towards him. I seem to have no strength left to give. I'm done. I feel all but defeated. Too many Cruciatus' have racked my body.

Just as he leans back in to say something, to sicken me further with his vile comments, many things to seem to happen at once, Bellatrix, Draco, Narcissa return yelling about something happening, Harry comes barging into the room with Dobby at his side - holding a wand no less.

I start to black out, my body having sustained too much trauma.

Darkness is my quiet friend.

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I pulled from my ominous thoughts and back to the present. Fawkes was trilling sadly at my side, the Room of Requirement was like a cold box (I could all but see my breath coming out in steamy puffs) and before me stood an apparition of Lucius Malfoy.

This must have been Horcrux-Lucius. He was even more grotesque than Lucius Malfoy in person; not that I ever wanted to be near any version of him.

His greyish blond hair was matted about his head, translucent bruises coloured his face, his clothes were torn. He looked more like a pauper than the aristocratic head of Malfoy house. The most frightening thing about him was his crazed eyes. If possible they would spin in their phantom sockets.

His mad eyes gleamed something terrible, as if promising me retribution for sins past.

Hastily, I backed away, crab-crawling backward. My stomach was rolling in disgust and any moment, my non-existent supper would make a reappearance. I could only imagine what a frightened bunny I looked to the mad Horcrux-Lucius. As if reading my thoughts, he licked his phantom lips, silver drool sliding messily down his chin.

"Mudblood."

I shook my head in denial, trying to wake myself up.

He cackled hysterically.

Seriously he was beyond fucked in the head. Horcrux or no Horcrux.

"My, my, my, Mudblood," he crooned, his hand waving about as if conducting an orchestra.

"You're not real, YOU bloody bastard!" I scream, never wanting to be near him, never wanting to back inside Malfoy Manor.

"Oh silly Mudblood, but I am."

"No!" I counter

"Yes, Hermione." I cringe at his familiarity with my given name. He should never softly utter my first name, as if he is caressing the softest of furs.

"I've seen into your heart. I've seen into your mind."

Again, I shake my head in denial. I don't understand this situation. How I've gotten to this time and in such similar circumstances as my past (present?). I'm terribly confused.

"Little Hermione Granger … the strange little girl that odd things happen around," Horcrux-Lucius started to chant again, as if playfully singing insults at me. "Hermione Granger … know-it-all extraordinaire with a nose always stuck in a book. Hermione Granger … ugly little duckling that no likes and can stand to be around. Hermione Granger … forever in love with Ron Weasley, whom he secretly HATES, BELITTLES, always argues with."

"Shut up," I muttered, trying to cover my ears from the constant vitriol. Traitors tears leaked from my eyes.

"Know-it-all Granger, Mudblood Granger, Buck-tooth Granger, stuck-up-BITCH Granger, Not-good-for-anything-but-homework Granger, ugly Granger, virgin Granger, virgin Granger, VIRGIN MUDBLOOD GRANGER…"

"Shut it, Shut it, fucking SHUT IT!" Tears fell at an alarming pace as my heart beat something erratic in my chest. I was at my wits-end with this situation. A little more and I could feel myself falling forever, being one of those broken, forgotten things in the Room of Requirement.

I pulled hard at my hair, wanting to wake myself up, wanting to ground myself with real pain, wanting to pull myself out of this messed-up situation.

"Remember Malfoy Manor, Mudblood?"

As if reading my mind, Horcrux-Lucius started to pull at the thread that would unravel me. I didn't want to go back to that horror. It was one of my darkest moments, never to be repeated.

Repeated.

REPEATED.

"There you lay so damaged at my feet, yet still trying to be a lioness of House Gryffindor. Her paws had been broken, her claws removed, and her fur all but peeled from her bones." The Horcrux licked his lips, trying to catch the spittle flying about. His mad gleaming eyes shining all too brightly.

"And when my pureblood skin touched your filthy skin … Magic."

I couldn't take anymore. I was at a breaking point. I had to either fall to the madness, where I would be forever safe from the Horcrux's taint, spinning circles forever in my head ... or I had to end this.

I had to end this.

It was too much.

I needed something to end the madness.

Something to end the madness.

End the madness.

And as if by happenstance, by chance, by magic, there was something to end the madness.

Sweet, soul-soothing trilling filled me.

Looking beyond the blurred reality that my tears created in my eyes, I saw Fawkes flying towards me. He was a red, gold beautiful Merlin-sent relief to my defeated soul.

Instinctively, I raised my hand and caught the fang he dropped.

His reassuring present was all I needed.

As if sensing demise, the Horcrux stared to panic, started to claw and slash at the air. Yet, no matter how much it fought, it couldn't touch me. For it was an apparition, a swirl of coloured air.

"You bitch, you good-for-nothing-but-shit Mudblood. You'll never amount to anything. Because, because, BECAUSE you'll know no matter how much you study, fight, answer silly little questions, you were never meant to be a witch. You were never anything but a fake, a stain on Wizardry. You don't belong. You'll never BELONG!"

I crawled over to the spewing Horcrux, knowing that I did belong. It could spew all the hatred and venom it liked, but I knew I BELONGED.

I BELONGED.

"Rot in Hell, Voldemort!"

Its eyes turned red.

I raised my hand with the fang gripped tightly in my fingers.

"Rot in hell, Lucius Malfoy!"

Its screams all but torn swatches of skin from my bones.

"And no matter how much you try and bury the truth, you'll always be part MUDBLOOD, Tom Riddle!"

Razor sharp claws reach out towards me as unearthly screams thrash my face, blowing my hair and clothes back from the whirling wind whipping about the room.

Fawkes flew in front of me, all but clawing out the eyes of apparition Lucius/Voldemort, trilling his righteous anger out loudly.

(THE END.)

With all the might I had in me, with all the anger I had in me, with all the fear I had in me, with all the hatred I had in me, with all the love I had for the fallen in me, I stabbed the fuck out of the diadem.

Shrieks turned to gurgled whispers.

Dark lights turned to muted golds.

Horcrux Lucius/Voldemort turned to non-formed swirls of wisps.

And the diadem bled out blackness.

The fang fell listlessly from my fingers and disappeared into the stone floor of the Room of Requirement.

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Fawkes landed gently on my bent knees. They creaked something terrible, but I didn't care. Fawkes, with all his battle glory, was able to use me as furniture anytime.

His dark, mysterious eyes stared deeply into mine. I would never understand the wonders of his depths, but I could read the affection he held for me, feel the bond we shared.

"Brilliant boy." I praised reverently, in awe of this amazing magical creature. "So very brave." I gently stroked his soft plumage. It radiated something terribly hot. "Thank you."

He leaned forward had affectionately rubbed his warm face against mine. His soft trills were a balm stronger than a calming draught.

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How long we stayed in that room, I have no idea. How Fawkes got the Basilisk fang, I have no idea.

But I knew we were one Horcrux down, I knew my mission had started off with a resounding bang, and I knew 'HELP will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it.'

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I stood up, wiped the snot and tears from my face, shook out the stiffness from my body, and with as much dignity as possible, I raised my wand.

Gladly and with little guilt, I turned my wand on the blackened diadem, "Reducto."

With my faith in myself and my rightful place in the Wizarding world, with my worthiness wrapped tightly about me like a shroud, and Fawkes trilling calming in my ear, I walked from the Room of Requirement.

The light of a new dawn sleepily broke through the stained glass windows of Hogwarts.

Hogwarts seemed to exhale.

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AN: There you have it, the fighting glorious start to Hermione's journey. So … I'm not the best at writing action sequences, but hopefully it wasn't too bad.

This chapter, as always is dedicated to those who reviewed, followed. THANK YOU.

Remember this will be a longish story, and we've just begun. More, More, More to come.

Happy New Years, loves.