Disclaimer: All of the characters are J.K. Rowling's
Warning: Contains very mild language

Hermione's Condition

The war against You-kno-, Voldermort (it was so hard to get used to saying that name without fear of being followed), was over. The casualties were high, but life went on and all of the survivors of the battle of Hogwarts had gathered together to celebrate life. Everyone who had supported Harry was invited even if he or she had only switched sides at the end of the war.

The party was in full swing, it was a combination of mourning and celebration. The deep ache that comes when a loved one is no longer with us was mixed with the happiness of just being alive. However, some troubles had not vanished with Voldemort's defeat. As soon as she thought Harry, Ron, and Ginny wouldn't notice, Hermione slipped out onto the back porch (the front porch was to be avoided at all costs because of the lovers that were bound to be there, snogging). It was not chilly, but she wore a fitted, lilac turtleneck with sleeves that came past her wrists and black jeans that tucked neatly into her boots. She had her hair down and wore earrings that matched her jumper. She looked gorgeous even with every inch of her skin covered from chin down.

"How many more beautiful nights do I have left to enjoy?" Hermione thought as she leaned against the railing. Then she shook her head. "I can't think like that. Life is beautiful: the stars are bright, the air is fresh, and Harry and Ginny have finally hooked up!" The two hadn't officially reunited as a couple yet but everyone knew it was only a matter of time. When she had left them they were talking quietly and seemed to be having a somber discussion, but she recognized the shy smile on Harry's face as his 'she's so wonderful she's making me nervous' look and the way Ginny was twirling her hair showed that he wasn't the only one who still felt something. A ghost of a smile appeared on her face; Ron seemed happy, for once, to see his baby sister with a boy. When someone tapped her on the back, she winced as she whirled around to find Draco Malfoy smirking at her.

"A little jumpy tonight, aren't we," Draco drawled.

Hermione stared at him for a moment. She really didn't know how she stood with him these days. The war erased the foolish prejudices of old, leaving the Dark vs. the Light as the only real rivalry. Therefore, they weren't enemies anymore, but no one in their right mind would say that they were on anything near friendly terms.

After a few seconds, she turned back around. "I came out here for some air. Why don't you just go back to the party? I'm not really in the mood to fight right now."

"Well, I wanted to speak to you. And I would appreciate if you would look at me while I did," he replied. He grabbed her shoulder to turn her around and she let out an involuntary cry of pain and spun back to face him. "Why are you so sensitive? I always thought you were the tough one in the Golden Trio. Are you scared of the big bad Slytherin?" he asked with a snicker. "Let me guess, you're afraid of physical contact because your boyfriend Weasel abuses you. Is that right?"

His eyes traveled from her neck to her arms to her legs. "You know you aren't that ugly, Granger. Why are you all covered up?" She shrugged off his question but his curiosity was peaked. He then proceeded, ignoring her protests, to pull up her sleeves revealing hundreds of bruises all over both of her arms. Her legs were the same story. He gasped. "Gods Granger," he breathed running his fingers up and down her forearms, "did someone hurt you? Is… is Weasley beating you?"

Hermione wrested herself from his grasp, "Ron would never do something like that! Plus, he's not my boyfriend. Nobody's hurting me, I'm fine," she insisted blinking back the moisture forming in her eyes.

If that was the definition of fine, then Draco was a proud Hufflepuff. Something was very wrong. "You're hiding something. Tell me what's going on," he demanded. Hermione didn't even deign to give him a response. He took a deep breath and announced solemly, "You can trust me. I swear."

"Trust you?" She let out an embittered laugh. "Why would I trust the git who has treated me like shit my entire life with my deepest, darkest secret? I know you don't really give a damn. I haven't even told Harry and Ron about this." She leaned on the rail for support as tears streamed down her face. "No, not happening in this lifetime," she whispered.

"Look Gra- Hermione, you need to confide in someone. And although I may not be your first choice," she snorted, "I'm here now and listening. You don't know how much longer that's going to last." She gave him a cold glare. "I didn't mean it like that. Look, just," he raised his hand as if to place a comforting hand on her shoulder then retracted it and ran it through his hair instead. A physically abused, crying girl, he was so out of his league. "Just look at me, I promise I'm not going to hurt you. Trust me," he swallowed, "I'm not lying."

Hermione glanced back at Draco and found him staring at her intently. He looked… sincere. Could it be possible that he actually cared? He was right though; she couldn't carry this burden alone anymore. Fine then, he asked for it. She regained control of herself and slowed her tears. Then she began,

"I have a muggle disease, called cancer."

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A/N: I will never understand those people who are able to update everyday. As you might have noticed it takes me months! So I realized that the later chapters are of a much greater quality than the earlier ones. I just fixed up Chapter 1 and now it no longer pains me to read! I will hopefully keep editing.

Here's the original note: I know, very suspenseful. I would really appreciate your comments, so please review. I'm an emotion writer, I write about the things that are present in my life. Recently, too many people that I am close to have come down with this disease. This story is kind of a tribute to those who passed away and an encouragement to their families and those still fighting the cancer. Tell me your thoughts!