"Daughter, have you met Adam Campbell? He's the son of Julie and Eric- you remember the Campbells?"
Hermione nodded, holding a hand out for Adam to kiss. "Very nice to meet you." She forced a smile on her face, wishing it was Ron had been allowed to come with. Ron would have said something that would have made her laugh. Or...he'd have started a fight, which Hermione would have been fine with for once. She could only take so much of having her hand molested...
"Oh the pleasure is all mine." Adam purred, eyeing her up and down to the point that Hermione wished she hadn't been forced into such a ridiculously short dress.
"Adam here only have four more years until he's a licensed doctor." Julie gushed, starting off the bragging war that everyone in high-society waged.
"Oh, how wonderful!" Hermione's father applauded. "Hermione is on her way to a great career herself. Top in her class and the one above it."
Hermione took a rather large swig of her champagne, feeling like a cow being inspected before purchase.
"Quite a feat!" Eric gave a smile that had no hint of warmth. "But you would do good to devote more of your money unto other matters besides schooling. She's a woman, she doesn't need to waste her time or your money on school."
Hermione bit her tongue, tasting the blood that shot out. But she knew better than to say anything. She just stood and grinned, taking care to make sure her back was straight. She'd have taken a big breath, had she not been worried her dress would rip as a result.
"Oh yes." Adam nodded, a pompous look on his face. "Must men my age would prefer a wife who could stand by his side during events, and make his fellow guests jealous."
"Yes." Eric agreed. "And a woman doesn't need an education for that, just a pretty face."
That stung. They were calling her ugly, and the 'polite' way in which they were saying it hurt worse than when someone sneered it at her out of anger. "But what of a woman who could offer a quip or two of her own?" She asked, judging the distance between her and her father. She was safely out of slapping range, but still, she decided to keep quiet like a passive sheep.
"A smart man doesn't need a woman to help him out." Her mother said through gritted teeth, giving Hermione a look that had her quieting up.
"Hermione, be a lamb and dance with me." Adam held his hand out, not even bothering to assume that he might be rejected. Hermione bit back a groan as she put her hand on his arm and fluttered her lashes up at him. He lead her to the dance floor, that haughty look still on his face. "You know, you really ought to talk less." He scolded. "It's not seemly."
Hermione tasted more blood as she clamped down on her tongue. "Oh, I am so sorry. Sometimes I forget." She giggled, mimicking the behavior of her rich muggle ' girl friends.'
"You really should try harder to break the habit." Adam continued. "Most girls can get away with running their mouths because they're pretty, but you..."
Hermione swore her tongue would be severed by the end of the night. "I'll behave." She promised, taking care to keep her dancing perfect and light despite the fact that she wanted to punch the older boy with whom she danced. "You're as bright as Alaska in December." Hermione muttered.
"Thank you." Adam seemed even more smug at the 'compliment', though Hermione had no idea how that was possible. Hermione was smug that she had gotten away with insulting his intelligence, and also slightly horrified that he was going to be a doctor if he couldn't even catch on to sarcasm.
"You know, if you'd fix that hair of yours you'd be quite pretty."
"Thank you." Hermione had had enough. "If you'd pull your head out of your ass you'd be able to see that the sun doesn't shine out of it." She pulled away from, stomping off as he stared after her with his mouth agape.
She made her way outside the large country club, yanking her heels off so she could run on the grass course without breaking her ankles. She ran for a good ten minutes before she was on the back nine, and once there, she decided to seat herself on a decorative boulder. She glared down at the neatly trimmed grass. The only reason she had been born, was so that her parents could have something brag about. They had spent her whole life grooming her to be a trophy-wife, a mindless robot. It was times like this she wished she had been a boy, at least then she'd have more freedom. And maybe then she'd have been showed at least a little affection. She fought back tears. Why did people have kids if they didn't even want them? She had been so lucky, being a witch, because that was the only way she was able to get away from all this high-society bullshit. Yeah, some called her a know-it-all at Hogwarts but she was fine with that. She couldn't help it, she reasoned. Before magic, her brains were the only thing that had made her special. It had been that that separated her from the crowd.
"Miss? Miss Granger? You are okay?" A heavily-accented voice had Hermione looking up to see Polly, her favorite person in that whole country club. The old lady gave a sympathetic smile as she sank down next to her and put an arm around her shoulder. "You ignore them." Polly insisted. "Just remember, you are kind and smart and beautiful. And no words they say can take that away."
"I just couldn't take much more." Hermione sniffed, leaning into Polly. "I insulted Adam." She admitted, feeling to guilt at the action, but rather anxiety as she knew her parents would be furious.
"Hermione, you shouldn't be taking that at all." Polly insisted. "But soon enough you'll be old enough to leave this all behind you."
"Not soon enough." Hermione smirked.
"Oh child, I'll be leaving next year for my much-earned retirement. And I'll put you in my suitcase and take you with."
"DAUGHTER!"
Hermione turned cold, and she quickly shoved her shoes on. No need to further anger her parents.
"JUST WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING?!" Her father was soon right in front of her, glaring down at her along with her mother.
"Do you know how much you've just embarrassed us!?" Her mother screeched. "And Polly- what are you doing here!? You're needed in the kitchen!"
"Yes, Miss. Excuse me." Polly gave Hermione one last squeeze, before hurrying off knowing that if she stayed it would just anger Hermione's parents more.
"Well, daughter?" Her mother demanded, making Hermione wonder if her parents had a hard time remembering her name.
"He called me ugly!" She argued. "I get it okay!? I'm ugly!"
"We have the money!" Her mother yelled back. "Why won't you let us fix you?"
"Because I'm not an object!" Hermione yelled. "I have a brain! And unlike every female in this whole...'charade', I have a brain."
SLAP! The hard hand of her father's crashed against her face, knocking her too her knees. Her eyes watered, but she couldn't even get up before her mother yanked her up by her hair. "Keep it up, you little shit, and we'll never let you go back to Hogwarts..." Her father whispered in her ear, before shoving her forward. "Get your fat ass inside."
"What are you going to do when I turn seventeen?" She screamed, dodging her fathers grabbing hands. "When I leave? Who are you going to parade around then!?"
"Leave?" Her mother scoffed. "And what? Go to live with that poor redhead?"
"Ron! His name is Ron!" Hermione's blood was boiling. "And I'd rather live in box than live one minute more with you than I had too!" She was seething. "The second I'm seventeen, I'm gone!"
"Keep threatening that, and I'll snap your wand in half!" Her father growled, roughly grabbing her and shaking her.
"You don't think my friends would come for me? Or any of my teachers!?" She yanked away. "They're responsible adults! Unlike you! Who has kids if they don't even want them!?" She marched away, but only made it a few feet before she felt hands on her neck. They were rough, and she was soon on her knees again as the breath left her lungs.
"I could kill you..." Her father whispered. "You don't think your mother and I could have another child? A prettier one?"
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Hermione arrived home at three in the morning. As soon as their limousine had stopped, she had run out the door and into the house straight to her room. Locking the door, she sank down on her bed. She wasn't crying, she was furious. Her father and mother didn't hit her a lot, their usual method of abuse was neglect or emotional. But never before had her father threatened to kill her. Swallowing hard, she started to pack her trunk. She threw in everything she could think off, most of them books, and then grabbed her wand. She was only thirteen, but she knew she could manage the magic she was about to use. She had read plenty about it, and she had a brilliant mind. The only thing stopping her was the thought that she'd be breaking rules..and not just school rules but laws. But Dumbledore would understand, and he would get her out of trouble. After all, Harry was always getting into trouble and then Dumbledore was always getting him off. He'd do the same for her. She shrunk her trunk quietly as she was able, half expecting the ministry to swarm into her home.
"What the hell was that?!"
Hermione took a sharp breath, before shoving her window open. Using a hovering charm so she could jump from the third floor without shattering her bones. As soon as she hit the ground she rolled and then ran down the driveway. She was panting by the time she reached the front gate.
"Open the gate!" She pleaded, desperate as she heard the sounds of a car coming down the drive.
"I can't do that Miss. Granger, I'm so sorry." Donny did seem sympathetic. "But your father just buzzed me and told me he'd have my ass if I let you out."
Hermione was about to argue, when the sound of tires crunching gravel got louder. She gave Donny a look that let him know she didn't blame him before she took off away from the gate. She ran a few feet before stopping. She looked up at the black gate. It was impossibly high, and she knew her fat ass wouldn't be able to squeeze through those thin slats. But she was running out of time, she could hear her father yelling in the distance. She gave growl before pulling out her wand once more. She didn't know how to vanquish them, but she did know how to melt them down. It took a minute, but she was able to smoosh through the jagged hole. It was a tight squeeze, and painful, but she made it and soon she was running off again. But only a few feet, she was out of breath and it was needless to tire herself out anymore. She pulled her wand out. She was taking the Knight bus.
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"Little Whinging?" Hermione asked, hoping that Shunpike would know what she was talking about.
As Stanley prepared to drive off, Hermione quickly found a seat in the way back. It wasn't really a seat, but rather a floor, but in her little nook between seat and wall she was hidden. And that was what she wanted. She wrapped her hands around her knees, taking care to keep her diminished trunk in her lap. She wished she had had the hindsight to change from her dress, but she probably hadn't had time too anyways. She had wanted to say the Burrow, knowing that Molly would take her in and make her feel like welcomed, and that Ron would be there. But they would ask questions. She just needed time to calm down first, and she could do that at Harry's. She knew the Dursleys were awful people, but she didn't think they'd turn a girl with nowhere else to go away. Especially since she was mostly muggle. She'd even sleep in the damn yard if that was what it came too.
She felt her eyes get heavy, and she shut them. She was hidden and since it was three in the morning only a few drunk wizards and one blind hag were on the bus, which meant no one would bother her or question her about her state. She frowned. What was she going to Harry? She didn't want to explain right away to him either. Maybe she could managed to convince him to give her time, afterall he wasn't as overprotective and impatience as Ron. She didn't fight back her yawns, nor the darkness of sleep that took over.
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"Wake up!"
Hermione grunted as someone shook her.
"Hey, we're at your stop. Get up." The voice was kind, so Hermione opened her eyes. She was glad to see it was Stanley and that she hadn't just dreamed her whole escape. She slowly got to her feet, and smiled at Stanley.
"Thanks." She said sincerely, hurrying off before he could ask her any questions. She jumped out the door, startling when the bus took off behind her.
Making certain her trunk was still with her she looked around. She was in some alley, and it was then that the thought she did not know where exactly Harry's house was occurred to her. She frowned. She couldn't just go and knock on every door, asking who lived there. The police would be called, and how in the hell would she explain to them how she had arrived here from so far away in such short time? They'd never believe her. She started walking, hoping some telltale sign would alert her to the Dursley residence, though she highly doubted it. Harry had told her they liked to keep things as boringly normal as possible. But she could hope, and besides, standing still wasn't helping anything. She walked a few blocked before her feet started to complain and she stopped to throw them off. She left them in the street, not caring that they were easily 300 dollars. They hurt her feet, and she wasn't hauling them around- not when she associated them with such a crappy night. Or a crappy night in general. Continuing on, she spotted a park up ahead. It was a nice little playground, but what attracted her to it was the fact that she could easily hide without detection. She could sleep there for the night, if she couldn't find Harry's, and the police wouldn't be able to see her. As her foot blisters started to bleed, she sank down on a swing, slumping with exhaustion. She was ready to drop.
"Party a little too hard tonight, did we?" The voice was silken and saturated with sarcasm, and she nearly peed herself right then and there. She was almost afraid to look up, but she summoned her Gryffindor courage and brought her eyes up. Professor Snape was standing there, in front of her, one eyebrow raised.
"I wasn't partying." Her tone was angrier than she intended, and she glared down at the grass.
"I didn't think you were the type." Professor Snape drawled, folding his hands across his chest. It was then that Hermione noticed he was in muggle clothes- black and gothic clothes, but still. It was then that the thought that her potions professor was keeping watch on Harry entered her mind, and she didn't bother to ask for confirmation. She knew it was true. "But Ms. Granger, what are you doing here?" He drilled.
"I HAVE A NAME!" She screeched, immediately regretting her outburst. Professor Snape would surely make her next year at school a living hell. But honestly! Was it so hard to say Hermione?
"You're anger would be best displaced on someone else." Her professor hissed. "Now, I'll ask you once more, what are you doing here?"
"With all due respect, that's none of your business."
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Severus had been expected a quick answer, it was Granger afterall, but he got the shock of the day when she had responded so angrily. Something was clearly wrong. And while they were not at the school, he was still an adult and he had a responsibility to look out for the welfare of children- regardless if he liked them or not. "What happened to your face and arms?" He demanded, already knowing the answer. He had worn those marks, and much worse, during his own childhood. And he was damned if he was going to let some child live through what he had. Regardless of what people thought, Snape did have moments of sympathy- especially in manners such as these.
"Isn't it obvious?" She snapped, her eyes filling up with damnable tears. "Look, all I wanted to do was have a night to collect myself!" She ranted, fresh mascara streaks falling over the old ones. "And then I was going to go the burrow and talk to the Headmaster. One night!"
"I assure you that the Dursley's would never let you into their home nor their yard." Severus kept his voice at an even tone, it wouldn't do to let the child think he had gone soft. "And it is very nearly morning, can you not hear the birds?" He demanded.
"It's only three, professor." She argued, looking unsure.
"It's a quarter till six." He drawled. "You're lucky I was passing this park on my way to leave, or you'd have been in for quite a surprise. Potter left for the Burrow not ten minutes ago."
"Then I'll just be going too." The disheveled girl muttered, grabbing her wand from the grass.
Severus easily brought the wand to his hand with a flick of his own wand. "Not so fast. Miss. Granger, have you been using underaged magic tonight?" He demanded, wondering what the hell had happened to the teenager to make her so ready to break the rules of their world.
"Yes. I have." She was speaking through gritted teeth, and he was ready to take points away for tone when he remembered school wasn't in term. "But I had too get away."
"Who hit you?" He demanded again. "If you want to be difficult I can and will force myself into your mind- and I won't filter anything."
"My father and I got into an argument...he slapped me." She kept glaring as the grass, as if it were the reason behind the assault.
"And choked you." Severus added, noticing the very visible rings about her throat. He could tell when the child's eyes started to water that he was correct. "Grab my arm, Granger. I'm taking you to the headmaster."
