Unofficial Portkey Archive

DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything here, all credit goes to J. K. Rowling, who, incidently, is god. Song isn't mine either, it belongs to the Goo Goo Dolls, it's a killer song, you should check it out sometime.

Author Notes: Don't worry, the whole fic isn't a song fic, just the first chapter. The rest of the fic isn't as angsty as this first chapter either, so don't be turned away by the original angst. This is my first fic, so reviews would be greatly appreciated. Thanks all.

WARNING: A major portion of this fic deals with self-mutilation, most specifically, with cutting. Some of the details are rather graffic. If this bothers you, don't read, and please, if you are someone who has been through this in the past and feel that this may trigger an episode, don't read. There are plenty of other fics out there that are still just as dark and angsty that won't deal with this, may I recommend those and not this one.

Chapter 1

An idyllic summer ended at last. Hermione had spent the whole summer in Little Whinging with Harry. Her parents had moved there at the beginning of the summer in order to open their own practice.

And I'd give up forever to touch you
'Cause I know that you feel me somehow
You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be
And I don't want to go home right now

They'd spent the whole summer hiking, swimming, talking, and towards the end, snogging. It was one of those unforgettable summers; one of those summers that made you forget the rest of the world existed.

And all I can taste is this moment
And all I can breath is you life
'Cause sooner or later it's over
I just don't want to miss you tonight

Yes, Harry could forget...until late at night, when the nightmares came. Harry didn't sleep anymore, and when he did, he was forced to watch his godfather die over and over and over again. He'd wake up screaming and numb. That was when he'd steal under the loose board in his room and pull out his blade. He'd watch the way it glinted in the moonlight, the cold metal sparkling with dark promises of pleasures unknown. That blade had become his friend, his comforter. In the terror of the night, he'd draw the blade across his arm, watching in fascination as a thin red line chased the blade across his inner arm. The physical pain blocked the emotional turmoil. He felt all the grief and sorrow drain out of him with each drop of blood that stained the sheets.

And I don't want the world to see me
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am

Come morning, Harry was Harry again. Only Hermione suspected the depths of his pain. Only Hermione saw the marks on his arms. They never spoke of it; it was an unspoken understanding. However, school was rapidly approaching, and what with her duties as Head Girl, and his duties as Quidditch Captain, she was afraid they were no longer going to be able to spend as much time together. Without her to keep him afloat, she feared he would drown in his sea of pain.

Summer was drawing to a close, and in a few hours, they would be leaving for King's Cross Station, where they would be leaving from Platform 9¾ to return to Hogwarts one final time. The night before, Harry had had one of his nightmares, but not like the one he'd had all summer. And when he awoke, he could have sworn his scare was aflame.

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"My time draws near," he heard a voice say.

"The girl, you loathsome idiot, the girl. She is his weakness...she has his heart. The little mudblood blinds him to the rest of the world; she makes him careless. We use the girl to get to him. For him to suffer, the girl must, too."

And then he saw a vision, ever so briefly, of a man in a long black hooded cloak with a stark white mask. In his arms, he lovingly cradled a limp, lifeless Hermione Granger.

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And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming
Or the moment of truth in your lies
When everything feels like the movies
Yeah, you bleed just to know you're alive

Harry awoke with a start, covered in a cool sweat, sheets twisted and tied around him. The blade slipped deeper that night than ever before.

"Just a little deeper," he thought, "if I'm dead, maybe they won't go after her."

"But she needs me; if I'm dead, so is she, because if I'm dead, Voldemort wins and the muggle born die."

King's Cross Station
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They met at the station, and decided against waiting for Ron. They'd just meet up with him on the train. They settled into their usual compartment, Harry pulled Hermione down onto his lap, and they cuddled together on the window seat for a while. Harry reached down and titled her chin to meet his own. He gently pressed his lips to hers, only to find her respond with a passion and fervor that shocked him. He ran his tongue over her lips, silently pleading for access to the sweetness within. She parted her lips and their tongues began an intricate dance of pleasure. Harry drew back and nibbled on her bottom lip before blazing a trail of moist kisses down her jaw line and drifting down to a spot on her neck he knew she liked. His hands slipped up under her shirt to gently cup her breasts and worry her nipples between his thumb and index finger. She laid her head back to give him better access to her neck and let out a soft, sensual moan.

"WHAT THE HELL," bellowed Ron, who had just slipped into the compartment.

Both Harry and Hermione jumped guiltily away from one another, straightening their clothing and trying to explain to Ron.

"Wait, Ron...it's not," said Harry.

"Just let me explain," said Hermione.

"I. Don't. Care," snapped Ron, then he turned and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

"Not exactly the way I pictured him finding out," said Harry