BLOOD ON HER HANDS
Part One
No one knows me…
At least… not the real me.
I study, I joke with my friends, I perform spells. They don't know what I've seen in my life, the terrible things I've done.
I told them my parents were dentists. Just ordinary, Muggle dentists. They don't know how wrong they truly were.
My parents are not dentists.
They're mobsters.
My childhood was punctuated by the cries of the innocent as my father ordered them brutally gunned down. As a nine-year-old, I was forced to kill a man who would have shot me in retaliation for something my father had done.
I tell Harry and Ron my parents are dentists. They never think to question it.
They don't see the hard glint in my eyes. They don't see the blood on my hands.
I wish I could just confide in someone. I wish I could truly be Hermione Granger, witch extraordinaire… a know-it-all with no concern outside of the petty dynamics of the wizarding world and the perils of failing my next homework assignment. I wish I could laugh with conviction.
But… it can never happen.
If Harry and Ron knew how corrupt, how horrible I truly am, they would never look at me the same way again.
They're both so young in their own ways. Sometimes I feel like… as though I'm in a different world than they are… Like I'm a hundred years older than them and beyond their comprehension. I wish sometimes that I could just be a normal teenager like them.
But it will never happen as long as I cherish my dark, dirty secret. I will always have to keep my true self in the shadows.
They would never know. None of them would.
Or so I thought…
To be Continued...
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