You Don't Know Me - (A Dramione Fan Fiction)

Chapter 1

*Hermione's/Third Person P.O.V*

All around her she saw the delighted faces of her old peers and friends. She saw mothers kissing their beloved child's forehead and fathers giving encouraging pats on the back to the returning students swarmed around platform 9 and 3/4. Even Narcissa had come to farewell Draco Malfoy.

The sight of all these fond embraces bought tears to her eyes and hurt an already unfeeling, broken hole in her chest where her heart used to be. She looked up from the suddenly extremely amusing concrete, to find Malfoy staring at her from his place on the platform with his mother. She felt a tear roll down her cold cheek and wiped it away quickly hoping he hadn't seen. She had promised not to show signs of weakness but had failed already. 

When the war ended, and she had failed to replace her parents memories, it occured to her that she had no home or place to live, and only what was left in the beaded bag, her Hogwarts trunk and the small amount in her Gringotts vault to get her through. She remembered spending the first few nights of the holidays alone and sleeping on park benches, not feeling the cold, and hadn't eaten in days. After nearly passing out, Hermione realized that it had infact, been 6 days since she last ate or had more then a cup of dirty water to drink. She went to the supermarket and bought something to sustain her and a bottle of water, and then proceeded to Gringotts to take out enough money for the remainder of the holidays in a motel. Everywhere she went people gave her weird looks and pitying glances, some even openly stared, but she didn't know why muggles would recognise her. Only when she got to the Motel to realize that she hadn't changed clothes nor showered or even looked in the mirror since before the Battle Day. She was horrified at what she saw when she looked at herself in the mirror for the first time in weeks. Blood was matted into her unruly knotted hair and debris filled the said bird's nest, cuts and bruises lined her cheek bones and jaw and her lip had split open at the bottom leaving a small trail of dried blood behind. She couldn't believe what she was seeing and furthermore, how she hadn't noticed! After an agonisingly slow and depressing amount of weeks, lonliness crept up on her. She hadn't wanted to be with anyone after the battle and left to cope with her losses alone. Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley along with the rest of the Weasley clan, had been disappointed but decided not to push her as they knew how delicte she was at the present time. She had, on a partticularly lonely day pulled up her sleeve and looked onto the scar Bellatrix Lestrange had etched in the skin of her left arm. In a fit of anger she had reopened the old, healing wounds on her frail skin. During her stay in one of the less safe areas of London, she stupidly enough left her wand at the apartment. This was immensly unlicky as she happened to stumble accross a gang on the way to the supermarket. They proceeded to surround and close in on her. They looked quite pleased at their efficient capture and had Hermione had her wand she would have hexed them into oblivion just because of the looks they all wore smugly on their faces. She had owhere to go and was persued, cornered and stuck. The 'leader' proceeded to walk up to her, grab Hermione by the neck and lift her up then drop her to the ground. She hit her head hard on the pavement and everything blurred. The mah began to take her clothes off against her feeble resistance, and do things, against her will to Hermione's frail body. She let out painful screams as they took it in turns, amongst the three of them, to abuse her. Hermione didn't really think it necessary to lose her virginity in a really special way, but she would have given anthing to lose it in any other way then this.

Cringing at the memory, she was brought back to the present by the whistle of the steam train, she grabbed her trunk and stepped into the place she had met her best friends. Nowadays, even the thought of returning back to her only home was no comfort to this new, emotionless, distraught Hermione. 

*Draco's P.O.V*

I felt the burn of a stare on my back as I turned to see Hermione Granger looking a me from across the platform. She looked, quite frankly, terrible. I couldn't understand what had happened to her. She had obviously lost a lot of weight, not that she was remotely fat in the first place, making her look as frail as an eggshell, her skin was now sallow and very pale and hug loosely over her bones like a sheet. Surpisingly enough, cuts and bruises were still rehealing on her skinny face and I couldn't imagine how she got them as they normally, well never took six whole months to heal. I couldn't beleive how, just, depressed she seemed. As soon as she saw me turn she looked down at her feet, and when she looked up again I saw a lone tear roll down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away and then seemed to get lost in a sort of trance as she looked despondantly into the distance. The sight legitemately broke my heart. I couldn't beleive I was saying this but I actually wanted to run up and hug the mudbl- no, I wasn't going to call anyone that anymore. What I saught was redemption and a fresh start.