It's all J.K. Rowling's, except the plot. Thanks.

They all saw me as the sweet, know-it-all girl who got all the grades, but they didn't really know me. They, in fact, didn't know anything about me. In Hogwarts, I was just Hermione Granger: the smart one. They didn't know about home. They didn't know about everything I went through. They didn't know how much I dreaded going back there, going back to him. They didn't know any of it. But then again, how could I blame them? I didn't want them to.

I enjoyed my act. I liked that they all thought I was perfect, and I was so good at pretending. That cut was from me washing a knife and having it fall, that bruise was from me running into my book shelf in my room; stupid me, so clumsy. There were excuses for all the marks, and I was a smart girl. I knew how to make all the right ones, and I knew exactly how to play it off so they wouldn't know. Like I said, I didn't want them to. That would've ruined everything.

Then he got involved. I didn't ask him to; he just did. He noticed one of the marks was in the shape of a hand. He said it wasn't normal. He said that no one should do that to me, and he wanted to know who did. But I knew he didn't really care. He was just nosy and didn't know how to keep himself out of other people's business. So I refused to tell him anything.

He wouldn't go away, though. He just kept asking. Every new mark was a new cause for argument; it was like I was always defending myself. I couldn't keep it up. I tried, though. I tried so hard. I didn't want them to know.

I guess the things with my dad started when I was a little girl. I'd do stupid things, and he would punish me. It really wasn't anything out of the ordinary. One day, I guess he went too far. I had a mark on my arm, in a place we couldn't hide very well. The schools talked to some child protective service, and they took me away from him for a while. Soon, though, I was back. I told them all I wanted to go back, because I knew that was what Dad would have wanted me to say.

When I went back, everything was the same. He just learned to hit me where they wouldn't see. And I didn't dare tell anyone. After all, I was a smart girl. I knew what he'd do to me if anyone found out. Even worse, I knew what he'd do to Mom and my siblings.

When I got my Hogwarts letter, he didn't want me to go at first. Then he finally decided he'd allow me to go, as long as I came back for every break to visit. I agreed, and I decided to throw myself into school even more than ever. I'd realized by that point that school was the only thing that could get me away from him forever, especially a school specializing in something he couldn't even do.

The first time I really realized how much I wanted a real family was the first time I saw the Weasleys together. There were so many of them, and they did have their fights, but there was just so much love in their parents' eyes... I wanted that. I just shook it off, though, and I decided I'd live with my family the way it was. After all, you can't change who your parents are.

So I went home every break, and I covered up the bruises every time I came back. It went that way for a long time. In fact, I made it through almost all of my Hogwarts years with no one knowing.

After one Christmas break, Malfoy and I were arguing as per usual. In some ways, I looked forward to our little disagreements. I mean, he was entirely inappropriate and cruel, but yelling back at him somehow helped get some of my anger out. I liked having somewhere to focus all of that; it helped me focus more on school the rest of the time.

"Aww, going to go back to your Potty and the little Weasel now, Mudblood?" Malfoy asked as I walked off.

"If you must know," I replied, turning back to him. "Yes, I am."

He glared at me.

"Besides," I added, "we both know they're more man than you'll ever be." As I turned away, Malfoy grabbed my upper arm to turn me around. I flinched more than I intended to, and he noticed.

"Blimey," he said callously, "it's not like I grabbed you that hard."

"Whatever, Malfoy," I responded, and chastized myself for letting my voice shake. "I'm out of here."

He grabbed my arm a little softer and spun me around to him. "What's up with you, Granger?" he asked, and I thought I almost detected some amount of sincerity in his question.

"Shove off, Malfoy," I said. "It's none of your business." Whatever I did, I had to keep him from looking,but even as I thought that, he pulled up my sleeve. Crap.

His face changed entirely as he registered what he saw. I couldn't look at him. After all, I had already seen it. The bruise was darker than they normally were because I had tried to fight back that time. I had known better, but on instinct I had turned from him. It was a bad move, and I knew it. So I paid for it.

"What's up with you?" he repeated more softly.

"Nothing," I said, as coldly as I could. I didn't want him to see that it hurt. I didn't want anyone to know, especially him. I cursed myself for ever flinching when he grabbed my arm.

"Granger, who did this?"

"No one." I glared as much as I could. "Now shove off. I'm leaving."

With that, I turned on my heel and walked away. He didn't stop me, and I wasn't entirely sure if I had wanted him to.

In the coming days, he had talked a little more to me about it. He was always trying to talk, and I never wanted to. Eventually, I blurted out:

"Okay, so he gets mad sometimes. I do stupid things, and he gets mad. What of it? It's not like everyone's parents haven't hit their kids at some point or another. He just does it more often, that's all. It's normal." I noticed my voice lower a little bit as I tried to convince myself. "My dad's normal."

Malfoy looked at me in disbelief. "You mean to tell me," he said, "that your father did that to you?"

"Maybe he did," I replied. "So what?"

"Granger," he said, "you know that isn't normal as well as I do. No one should do that to anyone."

"Whatever, Malfoy," I retorted. "Besides, I'm just a 'filthy Mudblood.' It's not like you care."

I vaguely noticed he looked hurt, but I didn't care. I left anyway. I hadn't wanted him to know, and now he wouldn't stay out of it.

I just wanted him to get out of it.

A/N: Hey guys, let me know what you think. I know it's a little darker than some of the other stuff I've done, but hopefully it won't turn out too badly. Anyway, let me know. Later.