A/N: Thank you for all of you who have put me on your alert list and the reviews that I have gotten. It makes me happy. I am having a pretty hard time writing this, but I'm doing it for all of you!!

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the people. Unless it is someone you don't recognize, at all. All of HP belongs to JK Rowling, I just use them as my puppets.

Chapter Two

Hermione groaned, feeling her world shake; she was having one of the best dreams ever! A voice broke through her consciousness and brought her from her dream world; Harry was standing before her.

"Mione, come on, get up!"

She groaned and swatted at him, trying to get him off of her; muttering a no under her breath. She was still so tired and didn't want to get up, at all. She nuzzled her face into her arms and made some noises with her mouth, going back to sleep. Harry, again, began to shake her; the girl just batting his arms away, like last time. Fed up with her, he went into boy's bathroom and filled a cup up with cold water; pouring that all over Hermione, once he was downstairs. Hermione woke with a screech and glared at her friend, Harry giving her an innocent smile; behind his back, the glass rested in his hands.

"HARRY JAMES POTTER!" She screamed at him, her face red; she was livid.

"Oh shit!"

He started to run with a very angry Hermione chasing him, making others laugh; a crowd gathering around them. Harry scaled the couch in one jump, whilst Hermione went around it. She was slowly tiring and he knew that, smirking. Finally, she fell to the couch; her breathing was erratic as he was out of breath. Harry plopped down into an armchair, grinning at her.

"You might want to get dressed."

She grumbled and made her way upstairs, grabbing some clothes, she made her way to the bathroom and gasped; looking into the mirror, she seen some of the ink on her cheek. The cold water only made it run and it looked like she had been crying, like the tears left a trail within the ink. Muttering an incantation, the ink was wiped from her cheek and her face became dry. Her hair was beginning to frizz and she had dark rings under her eyes. It looked like she didn't get any sleep at all; sighing, she used a straightening spell and a concealment charm. So many things she had to do to herself just to make herself presentable, just so she wouldn't have to answer questions. If she were cornered enough, the secret would tumble from her lips.

"Hermione you almost done?" Harry called up the stairs.

"Yeah, just need to do something with my hair!"

She quickly finished up in the bathroom and rushed downstairs, packing her bag back up; she was going to fix her homework at breakfast. With Ron and Harry by her side; she hoisted her bag on her shoulder and followed them to the Great Hall. They were lost in mindless chatter and she was in her own world; the reason why she didn't see them stop and the reason she ran into something solid, something warm. Looking up, she glared as she spotted it was Draco. He sneered down at her, his cronies following his lead.

"Well, well, well if it isn't Potty, Weasel, and Mudblood."

"Shove it, Malfoy," Harry spat, glaring at the platinum haired boy.

"Oh what a great comeback," Malfoy actually let out a cold laugh.

Harry glared at him and Ron lunged for him, Hermione pulling him back just in time. She didn't want her friend to get detention or getting their house points taken away. The drama wasn't worth the repercussions and it wasn't worth it to fight; fighting never really solved anything. Her parents had taught her to deal with her feelings another way, though she did lose it in third year when she had punched him. Sure, it did feel good but the guilt was starting to eat at her.

"He's not worth it!"

Malfoy stood there with his arms crossed with a high superiority, but Hermione could see that he was eyeing Harry; not just any old way, like he was attracted to him. The girl smirked and looked over at him with a raised eyebrow; looking to her, he knew that she had seen him.

"Crabbe, Goyle, come! We don't need to waste our time on this filth!"

Hermione only smirked more, the fact that he had called them filth, rolling off of her shoulders. She could feel the anger of her friends, knowing they were glaring at Draco and his sidekick's backs. The fact that she had caught him looking Harry up, made her feel superior to him. She now had something to hold over his head. Revenge is going to be so sweet and she knew it.

"Uhhh, Mione are you okay?" Ron asked, looking to the manic, grin on her face.

"Sorry, yeah. I'm good," she chuckled, "I was just thinking of something."

The boys nodded to her and shrugged their shoulders; they weren't going to question her anymore. They thought it was best to just leave her be, if she wanted their help she would have come to them.

The Golden Trio sat at the table and made their plates, both Harry and Ron piled them high; Hermione kept hers to a minimum. She couldn't ruin her figure, that would only make her lose her job and she couldn't have that; the money she made, she sent it home to her parents. They were grateful for the money, but inquired where she'd got it from. Her reply was that she sold some things and made money from that, but she knew that it wasn't going to last long; she didn't have much to sell and she wasn't good at coming up with excuses.

After pushing her plate away, her appetite dwindled, she pulled out her homework. She could see where her cheek had been, the ink very non-existent there. She sighed, knowing she had her work cut out for her; starting fresh. Her quill was scratching against the parchment; Harry and Ron asking her a million questions, making her want to snap at both of the boys. Her writing became even more frantic, the pressure she put on the quill, pressing it hard into the parchment. There would be indents there, but right now she didn't care. Her last nerve was about to be snapped and she needed to get this done; this was her homework for her first class, one that wouldn't be with the Gryffindors. It was an advanced Potions class with Snape; though she hated him, he was the best teacher in the subject.

Breakfast ended and Hermione shoved her books back into her back, haphazardly. She knew that some of her essays were going to be crushed, but she could give two rat's tails about it; her teachers would have to deal. Already, her patience was wearing thin and she wasn't going to be able to take any pressure; she felt as if she was going to crack and it was only the second day. There was only so much pressure the teenage body could take, her's feeling the brunt of the pressure. She just wished that everything would be so simple and not so hard, but if only she knew how much harder it would get.