Title: Dreary Days
Summary: The summer before her 7th year, Hermione's mother passed away from breast cancer. She was broken and her spirit drained. Now back at Hogwarts, Hermione's grades are slipping and she's depressed. She hasn't been able to bring the words out of her mouth, therefore keeping it a secret from Harry and Ron. Then how come on a dreary afternoon in the library she tells Draco Malfoy, one of her mortal enemies?
(A/N: Hey, this is my second story. The Draco/Ginny one is still in progress but I couldn't help myself in starting this one. I know that the story line is messed up when it comes to the books but bear with me please. Ignore the books for me please? Haha, I just like this plot and I want to write it anyways. So, please enjoy and review!)
Hermione Granger sat in the Great Hall for breakfast, picking at her food lazily. The near sight of it made her nauseous. With a deep sigh, she pushed the plate away. Looking up, she saw her two best friends looking at her worriedly.
"Hermione…will you please tell us what's wrong?" Harry said, pleadingly.
"For the millionth time, there is nothing wrong. I just feel sick, is all. Everything is just…," she sighed again, "dandy."
"And for the millionth time, go to the nurse! You've been looking downright horrible since the summer and let me tell you, it hasn't improved," Ron admitted to her a bit harshly.
"Well, thank you Ronald," Hermione muttered sarcastically. "You made me feel tons better."
While Harry muttered to Ron about how rude he was being, Hermione thought about what her body was starting to look like. In 6th year, she had grown into herself and her body wonderfully. Her hair stopped being tangled and puffy. She had the confidence of a thousand Beauxbaton girls. Then the summer came and her mother's condition worsened. The chemo wasn't taking effect anymore and before Hermione knew it, her mother was gone. Hermione and her father were devastated. All these events caused Hermione to stop eating. Every time she tried to eat, she would end up spitting it back up in the toilet a few hours later. Now, she ate very little so she wouldn't upset her stomach. She lost weight rapidly and instead of being able to decently flaunt her curvaceous body, she had to hide her anorexic-looking new one. Her hair was back in its tousled state and dark circles decorated her once glittering eyes.
"HERMIONE!" Harry yelled desperately.
"Huh? What?" she said, snapping out of her trance and breaking her train of thought.
"We were calling your name and you just stood there like a zombie! C'mon, we have Potions next and if we don't get going, we'll be late," urged Ron.
Hermione sighed and grabbed hold of her books. She followed Harry and Ron down into the dungeons in silence. She slipped into her usual seat next to Neville.
"Morning Hermione, how are you feeling?" he asked her quietly.
"Fine. Dandy. Marvelous," she answered indifferently.
"Silence," drawled Snape as he entered the classroom. "Today we are going over how to make Numbing Potion. It numbs pain for a certain amount of time depending on the size of the pain you are trying to rid yourself of. The bigger the pain, the shorter the period lasts. Now, pair off with the person you are sitting next to and begin." With a flick of his wand, the directions and materials were scribbled across the chalkboard.
Hermione sighed and grabbed all the materials necessary. Slowly, she chopped up the leaves of a plant she didn't bother to note the name of.
"Hermione, you have to cut the Bairybum Tree leaves horizontally…," sighed Neville, who observed she was cutting it in different sizes and shapes.
"Bairybum? What in Merlin's name does it do?" she asked, frustrated at the fact that she didn't already know.
"It's what makes the potion last and hold out for as long as possible. I thought you knew that, Hermione. You know everything."
After Potions, Hermione went to the nurse and feigned being sick. It came easily to her because it wasn't as if she was feeling healthy anyway. She trudged up to Gryffindor tower, being excused from the rest of the day's classes. Madame Pomfrey said she needed some sleep and perhaps food as well because she was looking quite frail. Hermione knew better than anyone else that that was what she needed.
Hermione lay in bed, eyes closed. Getting out of class resulted easy because of her perfect reputation. Yet she felt sad she did it. It wasn't like her at all to do things like that. She was a brain, a miss perfect. Neville was right…she knew everything. Nothing seemed to get past her but when her mother died it was as if all the knowledge she strived to contain all these years just turned to dust. Ron and Harry didn't even know her mother died from her breast cancer. What was wrong with her? They were her best friends! Hermione was falling apart and she knew she was. She knew her mother would be disappointed, wherever she was.