Chapter 3

A/N: I want to make a statement about Hermione's state of mind. For those of you who may not be familiar with cutting or do not understand why a person would do such a thing to their own body, I have this to say: Most people, more females than males, who are more susceptible to the vicious cycle of self-mutilation, are highly intelligent, driven, perfectionist types who thrive on praise and recognition from peers and authority figures alike. I do not believe cutting or self-mutilation is OOC for Hermione, if she were pushed to a point where things became too much for her psyche to handle. In canon, the issue of boys (Ron) seeing her as a girl, along with her sensitivity over being teased about her physical appearance was a reoccurring tender spot for Hermione. In fact, it was Professor Snape's comment of "I see no difference" that caused Hermione to cry, versus when she held her tears back when he called her "an insufferable know-it-all."

I hope that, although this topic may be disturbing, you will try to continue and stay with the story. For not everything is what it seems, and the main crux of the story has yet to be revealed.

***

Hermione missed her first class because she had been over-zealous in her cutting and had to spend time patching up the deeper slashes. For the first time in her life, she didn't care she had missed class. It had been worth it to discover this new secret. As she bandaged up a deep gash on the inside of her thigh, she made a mental note to herself to be careful the next time. It wouldn't do to miss any more classes.

She took her time in getting herself ready. She spelled her hair the way Lavender had taught her the year before. It took time wielding her wand the way she needed to when she was not familiar with the movement, but after a while, she got better at it. Before today, she couldn't be bothered with beauty treatments and make-up, but now she felt a need to do this. Soon her hair was hanging in wavy curls. She placed her wand on the vanity and deftly touched the soft curls that lay delicately on her shoulders. It felt silky and nice under her fingers. She forced her mind back on track and rummaged through one of the drawers in the vanity and found the make-up Lavender and Pavarti had insisted she buy last year in Hogsmeade. She had a very good complexion, so she had no need for gobs of liquid cover-up. She took the container of powder in one hand and the applicator brush in the other and made swirling strokes over her face and neck. It was just enough to make her skin look extra soft. She nervously picked up the blush and concentrated hard on what Lavender had said to her about applying it to the "apple" of her cheek. She lightly swiped it on her cheeks, and she had just a hint of pink that could be seen.

The next part was the hardest. She sat looking at the eye shadow with fierce intensity. She wanted to look different but not like a clown! She muttered the rules Lavender had told her about eye shadow application as she worked with the tiny brush. It was light, but the definition in her eyes could not be mistaken.

Finally, she took out the dusky pink lipstick and slowly moved it over her lips. She took a tissue, blotted carefully, and then looked at the effect as a whole. She scrutinized her work. It was passable. The make-up was light enough not to be seen as dramatic, yet enough that she looked different.

She rose from the vanity and took out her newest school robes. She wanted to look serious and intimidating. She took her Muggle nylons and slowly put them on, careful to adjust them around her bandaged thigh. They were jet black in color and looked classic with her black heels. She remembered from her younger years her mum's friends and their "power suits." They wore their make-up and clothes like a suit of armor. They had been most audacious and formidable. That was what she wanted: her own suit of armor. She could hide behind this. She figured she would really need it today. She steeled herself as she walked to her next class: Potions. As she walked, her heels made loud clacking noises on the floor. She felt forceful and daunting. No one was going to reach through and hurt her today!

She walked in the classroom, relishing the pain in her thigh, and sat down. There were a couple of wolf-whistles as she took her seat. Professor Snape was at his desk scribbling something.

"Quiet," he said lazily, not bothering to look up. However, after a few moments, he lifted his head because he sensed a change in the room. There was something afoot. He glanced around the room and saw Miss Granger.

"Impertinent girl," he muttered under his breath.

He stared at her angrily as she looked at him with a vicious smirk on her face. The words rushed back into her mind:

"Swot"

"No one will want you."

"Miss Granger," he began in his silky voice as he stood from his desk and swept around slowly to face her up close. "I know that gathering the attentions of young wizards is uppermost on a young witch's mind; however, you will not make my class a place for you to humiliate yourself by your feeble attempts at trying to prove you are a female. I assure you, no one in this room cares."

Harry and Ron jumped up and began shouting and cursing at the wizard. Hermione pulled on them both.

"Just sit down, be quiet! Stop!" she pleaded as she tugged on their robes.

"Well, Miss Granger, I see that you have regained some sense. However, fifty points each, Potter and Weasley, from Gryffindor for your rude behavior, and detention for a week with Mr. Filch," Snape said as he smiled nastily.

"As for you, Miss Granger, five points will be taken for your attempts to cause a distraction in my classroom...no matter how unsuccessful your attempts were," he added casually as he returned to his desk.

Hermione sat unmoving and uncaring. Each word was just another drop, just another gush of blood that she would take out later. He could no longer wound her.

He noticed a flicker of gleam in her eyes, and it disturbed him. He had expected the girl to cry or get angry, but instead, she had pleaded for her friends who were taking up for her to stop and looked at him...the wizard who had just verbally abused her...as if nothing odd had happened. In fact, she seemed content with his abuse!

Hermione began her work after the directions were placed on the board. She brewed happily, enjoying each time she shifted and moved against the wound on the inside of her thigh, taking the pain in as a safeguard against humiliation. No one could humiliate her again. She had found a way not to let it remain inside.

Snape continued to watch the young witch as he prowled the room. She had placed her hair up in a makeshift gathering of sorts up and away from where it would get in the way. He came by and looked at her progress.

He was used to her looking up at him with hope for a kind word. She had always reminded him of a dog, begging for a pat on the head or a treat for doing a trick well done. Instead, she ignored him and kept on with her work.

***

Over the next few days, Hermione kept up her beauty regimen. Lavender and Pavarti told her how pleased they were that she was actually taking their advice.

"Hermione!" exclaimed Lavender one morning as she touched her long tresses, "you are beautiful."

"Thank you," Hermione replied softly and went about her business.

Many people commented on her outward transformation. Hermione, always polite, never failed to thank them and walked on, refusing, as some girls were wont to do, to revel in her new found popularity.

Hermione was amused by it all. She laughed inwardly because she knew the truth. She worked hard at the illusion she created every morning. Inside was still the ugly, frizzy-haired, future old maid. That was the real her. It was laughable how people were so impressed with what she considered a glamour, a fake covering of her ugliness so she wouldn't stand out so much. Therefore, the attention, in her warped mind, served to only ingrain the belief that the Potions master had been right, as he always was, that she really had been so ugly before that people were amazed she could change and clean up so well.

Every day, at night, she took a hot shower and cut herself. Over the next month, she had quite the scars and marks. She had worked her way down the one thigh, so she started on the other one. Her skin was raised and angry looking with fresh wounds. She became confident in her bloodletting. She was able to let out copious amounts of blood in order to extract the pain from her. She imagined as the scarlet liquid swirled down the drain that her pain from the day went down with it. Sometimes she became dizzy after her shower, but she just went to bed and rested after bandaging herself.

She ate ravenously every morning at breakfast, but she knew she was too thin and pale...especially when her friends started commenting on her appearance. She had horrible circles under eyes that she tried to hide with make-up. However, people could see how weary she was. She loaded up on protein and foods rich in iron. She knew people were concerned with her, but she couldn't stop now, so she had to keep her energy up and replenish her body. She couldn't afford to skip one day of cutting if she wanted peace of mind.

***

Snape sat at breakfast, mulling over the events of the night before. He made sure not to catch the headmaster's eye. The Potions master knew the old goat was angry with him, and he wasn't in the mood for a lecture!

The staff had met last night, just another normal meeting in which they spent the first twenty minutes to gossip and let off steam. Then, Dumbledore would call them all back to order and start the official meeting. Snape had tried to bypass these "ridiculous grousing sessions," as he called them, but the headmaster had refused. Even if he had nothing to contribute; he had to play his part and listen.

The usual gossiping had already been underway when Snape had made his entrance into the staffroom. He had been blissfully tuning the noise out when he had caught Professor Flitwick comment on Miss Granger's radical change.

"Have you all seen how our Miss Granger has blossomed? She's all grown up! It seems like yesterday she was just a first-year," he said wistfully.

Severus stiffened. "I have enough problems with the better-known dunderheads than adding her to the mix. I've had more incidents of near explosion in that particular class because of her desperate need for affirmation. It makes my job that more dangerous, and frankly, I do not have the patience for it. Now, could we please get on with more appropriate subjects than Miss Granger's appearance and start this blasted meeting?" he snarled.

Snape ate his breakfast quickly, determined not to be sidelined by Dumbledore. He felt the familiar blue eyes upon him, but they were not twinkling. Snape pushed his plate away and stalked back to his dungeons. He could see that the headmaster was concerned for the young witch. Let him deal with her! he thought as he slammed the door to his private office behind him.

***

Dumbledore was back in his office, pacing and thinking about last night's staff meeting. Severus' behavior had been most irregular. The fact that the wizard was sarcastic and overly critical did not bother him...he was well familiar with that side of Severus' personality. It was the anger behind the comments which worried him. Not only that, but seeing Miss Granger this morning put him ill at ease. She did not seem to be well at all. He was determined to sort it all out. He called Minerva to his office for a chat.

"Minerva, I am very concerned with Miss Granger. I wanted to know what you have heard from the Gryffindors," he asked with concern.

"Well, most of the students like her new appearance and think her transformation is a good thing... except Messrs. Potter and Weasley. They seemed worried. They have mentioned that she is withdrawn and silent most of the time. She has always out-shone in Transfiguration. However, her magical abilities seem to be... waning. I thought it was because of the attention she was receiving...she didn't feel the need to bury herself in her work. However, I realized, Albus, she still may not be over the shock of what Voldemort tried to do to her."

"Interesting," mumbled the headmaster. He went to the Floo and called for Professor Flitwick to join them.

When Flitwick arrived, Albus asked him about Miss Granger's class work.

"Her essays are excellent. She is still very conscientious in class. Whenever I do call upon her, she is always prepared to answer correctly. However, she is not as eager to answer questions as she once was." Flitwick said in his squeaky voice.

"How is her Charms work?" Dumbledore asked softly.

Flitwick grimaced. "Well, Albus, honestly, it is growing weak. She can not perform the same level of magical power she was doing before the attack."

Dumbledore looked at his teachers with barely concealed rage. "Why has this been hidden? Why have you both not seen fit to discuss this matter with me?" he snapped.

McGonagall and Flitwick exchanged nervous glances.

"Albus," McGonagall said as she approached the side of his desk, "I thought it best to let some time go by. After all, you did say we were not to speak of what happened to Miss Granger. I'm sure Filius agrees with me that we just wanted some time to pass to see if it was just a bump in the road, as it were. If it had continued for much longer, I was already set in my mind to speak with you," she said reassuringly.

"Same for me, Albus," confessed Flitwick. "I didn't want to place more pressure on the girl after what she had gone through. I just wanted to give Miss Granger time to sort out her problems, like Minerva said."

Dumbledore sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose after removing his glasses.

"Thank you, Filius," he said quietly. "You may leave."

"Albus, what is happening to her?" Minerva asked, visibly upset.

"I don't know. However, I want to see Miss Granger immediately."

McGonagall rose to leave. "She's in Potions. I'll speak with Severus."

***

Snape was lecturing on the brewing process for the Draught of Living Death when he heard a sharp rapping on the classroom door. He snapped at Weasley to see what the person on the other side wanted. The Potions master was not pleased to see the domineering presence of Minerva McGonagall in his classroom. He made sure his glare was fierce as she walked up the far aisle.

She reached him and whispered, "Severus, Dumbledore wishes to see Miss Granger immediately in his office. I'll escort her."

"Miss Granger!" he snapped.

"Yes, sir?" she asked as she looked up wearily.

"You are dismissed. Go with Professor McGonagall. I shall place your potion in stasis. Afterward, you will come and finish it. I shall speak with Professor Vector about your absence from her class," he said sharply.

McGonagall shot him a look of pure loathing as she went to help Hermione, who seemed to be walking slowly.

***

Before they started walking up the stone stairs that led from the dungeons to the main hall, McGonagall turned to Hermione and looked at her appraisingly.

"Hermione, I am very concerned. You do not seem at all well! What is wrong?" the older witch asked.

Hermione lied. "Nothing, Ma'am. I think I'm studying just too hard for my N.E.W.T.s and not getting enough rest."

Hermione knew McGonagall did not seem satisfied with her answer. Nevertheless, she hoped that she would accept it. After all, it did make perfect sense. She was notorious for working herself into the ground when it came to important tests.

They walked slowly to the headmaster's office. Hermione felt very tired. It was a long trek from Snape's classroom to Dumbledore's office, and breathing was becoming difficult.

They finally reached the office, and before Dumbledore could speak, McGonagall said, "Headmaster, Miss Granger is extremely ill. She could barely walk here from the dungeons without difficulty and labored breathing."

Hermione felt her stomach drop to the ground. Oh, God! Please don't let them find out! she thought frantically. She forced her face to remain calm and not to give away her emotions. She made sure not to look at the headmaster in the eyes.

"What do you suggest, Minerva?" Dumbledore asked.

"I want to take her to Poppy," she said decidedly.

Hermione could feel her heart racing. She was petrified. Poppy would surely want to examine her. If she did, then her secret would be out, and everything would come undone! She still forced herself to stay calm. She would figure out something!

"Very well. I shall speak with Miss Granger's professors," Dumbledore replied.

Hermione kept her head hung low, refusing to look at the old wizard, but she could sense him looking at her over his half-moon spectacles.

"Miss Granger, regardless of what Madam Pomfrey might say, I want you to stay for the remainder of the day resting in the infirmary. You may only leave for dinner. I want you to eat a very rich and healthy meal. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," she said quietly and then followed McGonagall out of the office, towards the hospital wing.

She was terrified.

***

Hermione knew she had bled a little too much earlier and decided that she was going to need to get into Professor Snape's storeroom and steal some Blood Replenishing Potion if she was going to continue cutting. Then, she would be just fine and not have to worry about McGonagall or Dumbledore interfering. The problem was getting it without having any help. Perhaps, she could get Harry and Ron to help her sneak into his private stores by telling them that she needed something else, or she could lie about wanting to make a creative mix-up with his potions since Professor Snape had been so cruel to her. They would believe that. It would be like her to be clever with her vindictiveness.

She had been so busy coming up with a suitable plan in her mind that she hadn't realized that they were already in the infirmary and Madam Pomfrey was talking to her.

"Well, overwork and under-eating can ruin a person's health!" the mediwitch chided.

Hermione nodded dumbly as Madam Pomfrey looked on, sighing.

"I'm giving her a Pepper-up Potion, Minerva. I wholeheartedly agree with the headmaster! She will stay here for the duration of the day, resting."

She looked at Hermione and said sharply, "There shall be no studying for you today, my girl! Now in bed with you!"

Hermione obeyed, crawled into a bed, took the small phial that Madam Pomfrey handed her, and drank it in one gulp. She felt the magic of the potion tingling through her, and for the first time in weeks, she felt true relief.

As she drifted off to sleep, she heard Madam Pomfrey say to Professor McGonagall, "Well, I've never seen a person react so adversely to a Pepper-up Potion! I must speak with Severus. After all, he is the one that brews this for me...this could be serious!"