A/N: To anyone who stumbles upon this story their first time, I'd like to say welcome! Furthermore, I'd like you to be aware that while I may have started this story a long time ago, some things have changed. This was my first ever written and posted story; It was/is/may still be choppy and rough in various areas, and I am very sorry if that is a turn off for any new readers. I am not the perfect writer, and this story in no way is perfect. It was my first attempt in seeing if readers liked what I wrote and if I would continue to post my stuff. This is the story that gave me courage to do so, and so I believe it is my duty, (since I believe I am now a better writer) to go back and fix anything that might have been mistakes whether I have finished this story or not.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters. All rights belong to JK Rowling. I'd like to thank my friend Sam, she is my Beta reader/writer, and my girlfriend Carissa, who is my motivation. Please forgive any errors I still may have missed. Thank you and I hope you enjoy the read through.

Hermione Granger took a deep breath as she quickly stepped across her final corridor for the night. The halls were dark, illuminated only by the few candles that lit her path back towards Gryffindors Common room. Just as she'd had expected them to be. Though the young Gryffindor loved being Head Girl, what she didn't particularly enjoy, was that on top of juggling her advanced classes, she was also swamped with Head Girl duties. Such as nightly rounds, even after the Prefects had finished their own. It was the same as it had been every night since the beginning of the term, and she'd grown used to the cold and lonesome walks through the Castles halls. Tonight however, she'd managed to finish her rounds and nightly study routine, a routine she'd given herself so that she could keep the reputation of being Hogwarts top student. Despite the pressure over the years with hard studying and long nights at the library, she had managed to stay: 'The brightest witch of her age!' a title she had earned her first year.

Overall there weren't any complaints. She loved being Head Girl, especially when she finished her rounds early as she had tonight. With a few hours of moonlight to spare, she could make up for the lost time she'd missed out on with her loving boyfriend. If the boy was still up the two of them could get in a good round or two of snogging. Maybe even some light petting and snuggling by the fireplace.

Hermione giggled, and with those warm— if not less than chaste —thoughts in mind, along with a slight flush, the girl dashed to The Fat Lady's portrait. She had been so engrossed in her hopes, that she'd even let off a few third years with just an warning, and irritated glare for breaking curfew as she climbed the stairs three steps at a time.

Recognizing the bright brunette's hurry after so many years, The Fat Lady swung opened without her usual query. When Hermione arrived at the common room, she found it was nearly empty except for Harry and Ginny; the pair had been seated across from each other in the far corner of the room. The scruffy-haired wizard wore a wide grin on his face, as he spoke to the freckled red-head about what Hermione could only assume was Quidditch, since she sincerely doubted Ginny would be interested in helping to figure out the state of Voldemort's nightwear— both being the two things the-boy-who-lived talked about all the bloody time. She didn't understand how Ginny didn't find it all insufferable.

"Have either of you seen Ron?" she asked, eager to see the boy she loved with all her heart. Harry nodded, a smile gracing his lips.

"He went up to his room about ten minutes ago, he said something about not feeling well. Bet you can get that all sorted out, right 'Mione?" Harry said, wiggling his eyebrows as he noticed the tinge of pink on her cheeks. His insinuations earned him a playful smack to the shoulder from his two best female friends, and with sounds of encouragement from the boy, Hermione practically ran up the staircase to the boy's dormitories. Trying to contain her excitement about seeing her redheaded boyfriend, she giggled to herself.

Upon opening the door to his room, her heart shattered.

"Oh my god!" she exclaimed, her horrified tone matching the look on her face. As soon as she'd opened the door, she had been treated with the sight of her soon to be ex-boyfriend, in a rather intimate position with Padma Patil. When she entered, the guilty pair sprang apart; Ron rushing to get his pants on and Padma cowering beneath the covers, as though they were an invisibility cloak.

"H-Hermione, this isn't- its not- I-It's not what you think!" Ron stuttered, fiddling with his zipper. "It was nothing! Just an accide–"

"Don't you dare!" Hermione cut him off. "Don't you dare lie to me Ronald Weasley!" The 'by-the-book' Head Girl of Gryffindor shrieked, choking back sobs as she pointed at her gangly ex. "You're a dirty rotten cheat Ronald Weasley! I never thought you could stoop as low as–as–" she struggled for the word, the tears stinging her eyes. "A Slytherin!" she finished lamely, knowing it wasn't the best of insults. With her outburst, she stopped fighting back the sobs and turned quickly; heading back down the stairs and into the common room. If she had been any faster, perhaps she might have made it out of the portrait hole without any questions asked. Though as luck had her, Ron beat her to it. She felt a hard hand grasp her shoulder before she found herself spun around to face the angry Weasley.

Still shirtless, the redhead now looked the shade of a plum, though his eyes were wide with indignation and shame."A Slytherin?! Take that back Hermione, I'm nothing like the lot of them!" Ron roared, anger overtaking shame.

"Don't touch me!" Hermione snarled, roughly pulling from his grasp. "And I most certainly will not take it back, because it's true! You're nothing but a sneaky cheat!" she yelled angrily standing her ground, oblivious to the crowd that had gathered around them.

"What's going on? Hermione what's happened?" a worried Ginny asked; looking between her best friend and her brother, the latter of whom was turning so red, she could see the veins popping at the sides of his head. She had been confused, Hermione had only moments earlier looked like the happiest girl in the world, and now it appeared she was the angriest.

"She's gone off her bloody rocker she has!" Ron pointed, still angry.

Hermione scoffed, "I'm off my rocker?! I wasn't the one shagging Padma Patil whilst I still had a girlfriend, was I?! You stay away from me Ronald Weasley, or I'll hex you into oblivion!" There was a pause, the color slowly returned to his face, and for a moment, everyone wondered about his reaction to such a threat. Such a threat coming from Hermione Granger, was indeed a threat everyone knew was to be feared since the witch could accomplish it, given her reputation for using advanced spells and hexes. But instead of living up to his well-known temper, Ron broke into a smile or rather a smirk, to everyone's astonishment.

"Doesn't matter," he sneered. "I've had enough of you. I'm tired of pretending to like you, the 'All-Knowing Hermione Granger'," he snorted. "No more pretending to love you; I may be a blood-traitor, but you're just a filthy Mudblood."

There were several audible gasps, and Hermione froze, her eyes wide as though she had seen a Basilisk slither out of his mouth. Her broken sobs turned into actual tears as she turned and ran out of the room, she'd almost gone through The Fat Lady's portrait as if it had not opened fast enough.

Ron smiled, satisfied that he'd finally gotten the last word on Hermione Granger. He closed his eyes and took a calming breath, and when he opened them, his vision was filled with Harry's fist, as it delivered what everyone in Gryffindor considered a well-deserved punch.

∼•∽

Hermione found herself walking down the corridor for the past hour in a dark mood, her face blotchy red after bouts of crying. 'Ron was a complete jerk!' She thought spitefully. She had done everything she could to be a good girlfriend, but in the end he wasn't worth it. She felt betrayed. He had even called her a Mudblood; it was an insult she had gotten used to hearing from the Slytherins, often said to her by Draco Malfoy, but hearing Ron say it hurt, like a wall had slammed into her face.

"You complete arse Ronald... Bilius... Weasley..." she gave a weak mumbled to the empty hallway. "How could you do this to me? I could have forgiven the cheating but… you used me," she could feel the tears begin to roll down her cheeks all over again. With blurred vision and her thoughts spinning into despair, she didn't see the sudden appearance of another person as she turn on to the next corridor, until they both went crashing to the floor; papers and quills scattered as the two ended up tangled awkwardly.

"Watch it Mud– Hell, Granger you look like shit! What... did you and Weasel have a row?" mocked the voice of one of the last people Hermione wanted to see.

"P-Parkinson, what are you doing out? It's past curfew," Hermione whispered meekly, avoiding the gaze of the girl beneath her. Just the icing on this lovely fruitcake… she thought bitterly. Pansy Parkinson, the so called Queen of Slytherin. This girl hated her with a fiery passion and the feeling was mutual. If she had any idea how close to the truth she was, Hermione knew she'd never hear the end of it.

"None of your damn business Mudblo–" Hermione gasped, choking out a sob at the word, she surprised the sneering Slytherin.

That had been the final straw; Ron had been one thing, but hearing it again, and from someone she knew hated her with every ounce of their entire being, she just couldn't hold it in any longer and she begun sobbing uncontrollably. Her body trembled with heart-wrenching sobs, her hands clutched the chest of her broken heart and she cried, like she had never cried before. It was at this moment she wanted nothing more then to be home, in her mother's warm embrace.

Of course she had seen other girls go through heartache. She couldn't even begin to count the times she'd walked into the girls lavatories, and was greeted with the sight of the sixth or seventh years who had been left heart broken. She couldn't even count the times when Ginny had come to her in such a state. But she had never thought that in a million years, she would be one of them. It was true that over the years she had had very few boyfriends; between Viktor Krum and Neville (for but a brief time), but each relationship had ended with a mutual respect and friendship in tact. This however, she knew would not be the same. And it was nothing more then heartbreaking, so she continued to cry, unaware of the delicate, timid and awkward embrace of slender arms around her body, nor the hands rubbing soothing circles on her back. She vaguely recognized the feeling of someone pressing against her, and in need of the warmth and comfort, she found herself pressing back against it.

Eventually, her sobs became soft sniffles, and stopped entirely. When she finally calmed down from her emotional breakdown, she realized just where she was and who she was with. She hadn't failed to notice the full curves of the female she had pinned to the floor underneath her. Her face reddened, and she couldn't help but think that Pansy had a rather nice body. She had soft, full, and lovely breasts, a smooth stomach, and Merlin's beard! Her legs were long and beautifully toned as well! Hermione found herself admiring her enemies body until she was interrupted by the girl's voice.

"Better, Granger?" Pansy asked, her tone neutral. Hermione nodded, bringing herself face to face with the other girl.

She doesn't look bad here either, Hermione thought, slightly dazed. Parkinson, or rather Pansy, was really quite attractive. She had beautiful lips, which were currently red with what Hermione had know to be a rosy scented lipstick, and as she noticed; were sucked in at the corner while she lightly chewed on them. Her nose was slightly upturned; something Hermione could recall one of her fellow Gryffindors comparing to a Pug's nose. Seeing it now however, she thought that could not have been farther from the truth; Pansy's nose worked beautifully with the rest of her features, setting off her lips and beautiful blue eyes.

Yes, she decided nonplussed by the idea that she was sizing up another girl, that Pansy Parkinson was rather attractive.

"Do you mind getting off then? I don't really enjoy the ground, Granger." Pansy remarked, her usual insulting tone missing.

Hermione murmured,"S-sorry, Parkinson," before scrambling off the prone Slytherin. Trying not to stare at the other girls body, she sat back on her haunches. Pansy in turn pushed herself up, and began gathering her scrolls and quills, looking at Hermione as if she'd never seen her before.

"Really, Granger. I thought you'd stopped caring about being called a Mud- being called that. We hardly ever get a glare from you," she muttered sullenly. Gathering everything into her arms, she then hustled past the still kneeling Gryffindor. "Oh this'll be good for a laugh. Wait till everyone hears that Gryffindors Know-It-All was sobbing like a baby that's lost her bottle!" She called back over her shoulder, her usual tone of cruelty creeping back into her voice.

Pansy then made her way down the hall, snickering as if her comforting Hermione had never happened, and Hermione merely watched as Pansy retreated, her eyes drawn to the Slytherins slim figure even though she'd plainly just been insulted.

Just an update 7/16/2015