Join the Cutting Club.
By Emma L. Granger.
Summary: Ever heard of cutting yourself to relieve stress? Pain? Hermione lost in all her sorrows decides to explore this option. Will Malfoy care enough to help? Will he even find out...D/Hr.
Disclaimer: Do I own Harry Potter? No. How about J.K. Rowling? No. A Purse? Yes.
A/N: I felt like writing. So...here you go! By the way I'm making this PG13 because of the blood and stuff.
My heart is broken
I'm lying here
My thoughts are choking
On you, my dear
On you, my dear
On you, my dear
-Avril Lavigne
Hermione was in her room wallowing in self-pity. This was supposed to be her last year at Hogwarts. It was supposed to be the best. But it wasn't. Why not? Because she was so bloody miserable that's why she thought as she let out a few more tears. Everything was supposed to be great. On the bright side she was Head Girl and had her own study and dorm. On the other hand she had to share the study and bathroom with an insufferable git who hated her just as much as she hated him, maybe even more. Yes Dumbledore had appointed Malfoy as Head Boy. We she had found out she had acted as if she couldn't have been happier. But she knew that was a lie. Her whole life was a damn lie. Over the summer she had found out she was adopted. Her parents had decided to wait and tell her until it was the "appropriate" time. 'We didn't wanted to hurt your fragile teenage psyche' their words ran through her head.
"Fragile teenage psyche my arse." She muttered to herself as she threw her pillow across her bedroom. It had been two months and she still hadn't gotten over it. But when she got an invitation to the Burrow she seized the opportunity and spent the rest of the summer there. Finally after six years Hermione and Ron and finally admitted that they had feelings for each other. Hermione was happy for once since the whole adopted talk she'd had with her so-called-parents. Then when Hermione had left their compartment to go see how much longer until they reached the castle and returned she had found none other than Ron and Lavender snogging senselessly.
Life couldn't get any worse. Of course she broke up with Ron. He had hurt her too much. It seemed nowadays that the only feeling she knew was pain. She couldn't even remember a bit of happiness felt like again. She glanced at her watch and headed to the Great Hall for dinner.
She sat down and started to talk to Harry. Maybe he could cheer her up.
"Come on 'Mione you should really eat some food. Look at you. You look so thin. Compared to Ginny you're a stick!" As soon as he spoke those words he knew he had made a terrible mistake.
"HARRY JAMES POTTER ARE YOU CALLING ME FAT?!" Ginny yelled at him.
"No Ginny I didn't mean it that way. I mean you look healthy and all-and- er"
"Er what?"
"Ginny, Harry will you shut up? You two are giving me a headache."
"Sorry."
"Sorry."
Hermione gave them a half-smile. "It's ok, I understand. You know you two and your lovers' spats."
Harry and Ginny blushed madly. Hermione smiled yet again. Ah, she hadn't smiled in such a long time. It felt kind of good.
"Hermione's right you two." Ron said. Making Hermione's smile turn into a frown. Ron had just sat down across the table from her. The sound of his voice brought back too many bad memories. Tears started to well up in her eyes.
"I've got to go study." She mumbled as she got up and left the Hall. She didn't know where she was going. She made a right and found herself out on the school's ground. She went over to the Quidditch Field and sat on one of the bleachers.
Tears adorned her already wet face. Her two hands cupped her chin and her elbows rested upon her knees. The wind blew her hair and her mind was deep in thought.
'Why me? Why?' She started to yell, "Why?! Why me? Why not someone else?"
"Now really Granger I always thought you were insane, but now this proves it. Talking to ourselves are we now?"
Hermione didn't even have the energy to insult anymore. She let out more tears. "Sod off, Malfoy."
"What no witty comebacks Mudblood? You've really lost your touch."
"Leave me alone."
"Fine I don't need to spend my valuable time with a Mudblood like you." He walked away without even a second glance or care.
&
'Why was the Mudblood crying so much? Maybe Weasel dumped her? No, that happened at the beginning of the year. What about Pothead? The Mudblood probably confessed her undying love for him and he regretted her. Ha! But I don't think that could've made her cry that much. But why should I care? She's only Granger.' Malfoy thought as he entered the Heads' common room/study.
&
Hermione had taken enough of the cold November winds and headed inside. She was now in her room thinking about what she should do next. After taking a shower and putting on her nightgown she was lying in her bed crawled up in a ball. She grabbed her pillow. 'How can I make this pain go away?' She thought.
'You need something sharp.' Another voice said.
'Sharp.'
'Knives are sharp. Where am I going to find one?' She thought a minute. 'Razors are like knives...'
She went to the bathroom. She locked the doors to make sure Malfoy wouldn't get in (the bathroom is adjoined to Malfoy and Hermione's room). Then she continued her search for the perfect razor. She found one. It was black and silver and had four sharp blades. She grabbed it and ran it over her right leg causing a deep red gash to appear. The blood trickled down her leg. The physical pain felt good, it was good to feel something other than all the emotional pain she'd been going through. She ran the razor over her arm.
'I've had enough. Ron will pay for doing what he did to me. He broke my heart. Everyone will pay.'
'More blood.' The voice practically screamed in her head.
She cut her other leg. The floor a bright white was now completely covered by the blood red liquid. Somehow she had managed to cut her lip and was now tasting her blood.
'It tastes good, doesn't it? More blood.' The voice said with maniacal laughter following its statement.
'Very good.'
"Sweet dreams to me..." She whispered as she blacked out making her self fall to the marble floor, covered in her own blood.
Sincerely yours,
Emma L. Granger!