'Please don't do this again' I cried as he pushed me against the wall. 'Why are you doing this, why?' I asked the man who remained to be unseen. 'Why?' he sneered 'because you're a filthy mudblood and I can.'

I woke up screaming, glad I put a sound barrier on my room. I got out of bed and quickly made it. I checked my digital clock and saw that it was only 5:30 am. My parents wouldn't be up for another 2 hours, and I didn't have to be at king's cross until near eleven, to board the Hogwarts express.

If you haven't realized already, I am a witch, born of muggle (non-magic) parents. I attend Hogwarts School of witchcraft and wizardry in Britain. My name is Hermione Granger. Or so I thought.

Anyways, seeing as I grew up as a muggle, I usually do things the muggle way, unless I don't have time.

I climbed into the shower stall in my bathroom and sprayed hot water over my mass of frizzy hair. (On my head you sickos!) (Lol) after about twenty minutes, I got out and dried myself off. Once dry, I sat on the edge of the tub, and examined the scars on my wrists and ankles. I touched each one and smiled as I remembered the anger or whatever that I started with, the pressure of whatever I was using, and then, as I drew the last blood, release.

This morning I took a razorblade, sanitized it, and carefully scrawled HATE on my left ankle. I let it bleed for a while till it started to throb, and then wrapped it in a wet cloth. I put on my bathrobe and cleared the foggy mirror. I spent about three hours on my hair, and at the end I was satisfied. I had transformed my brown mousy hair into a sleek black mane, leaving the white strip in the front there. I placed a spell I learned on my hair to make it permanent.

Then I started my make-up. I put in contacts that made my eyes look icy blue, instead of the same old brown. I did my eyeliner in 'cat eyes'. I finished it off with black lips.

I returned to my room and got dressed. I wore low riding black pants with black lace-up 'hooker boots' as muggles called them. I wore a black tube top with a long-sleeved black mesh top over top, no bra. I stuffed the rest of my clothes that I was taking into my trunk, but left a pair of my school robes out.

I was about to search for my prefect's badge, but I remembered that I handed it over to Harry, for certain reasons. I was surprised that Dumbledore let me do it without saying anything, but I guess he knew, as he knew everything. I looked in the mirror and smiled. This year would be different. For one, I actually had a body to flaunt, not that I would anyways. I had my belly button and tongue pierced (against my parents' wishes as they were dentists.) and I had a tattoo on my back of black dragon wings on my back, one each on my shoulder blades. It had red veins and slashes throughout the wings. I put a spell on my tattoo to make it move in the light, make it look like the veins were pulsing with blood. The funny thing was although my parents didn't approve of the piercing, they offered me the tattoo, and they paid for it.

I put one more spell on myself to hide my scars. I was only allowed to do magic during the summer because of what happened, but I don't want to think about that. I went downstairs to the kitchen, hauling my trunk behind me. I was too lazy to levitate it, and besides, my parents were still kind of freaked out about the magic using thing. I no longer had crookshanks. He was killed. Down in the kitchen, I smiled wide for my parents and quickly had some coffee and a piece of toast to keep my parents happy. By the time I was done, it was a quarter past ten.

My dad put my trunk in the car, and I got in seeing as I wasn't allowed to apparate, even if I could do magic. My sixteenth birthday was three weeks away.

I looked over the letters I had gotten from my 'friends' over the summer. Quite a few were from Ron, a few from Harry, and a short note from Ginny. They all pretty much said the same thing: asking me to go to Harry's new place (snuffles' old home), and why wasn't I writing to them.

The only time that I wrote to them was to tell them that I'm fine, and to congratulate Harry and Ginny on their 'relationship'. I folded up the letters, and pocketed them. I would burn them later. We were just pulling into King's cross railway station. I got out of the car, said 'bye' to my parents, and hauled my trunk out onto a trolley. Watching for muggles, I ran through the brick wall, which was the entrance to platform 9 and 3/4. I put my trunk with all the others,, making sure it was locked, and looked down the platform.

I walked down it with my eyes straight ahead, making people move out of my way with wide eyes. I stopped in front of the new golden trio and waited. They stopped talking and gaped at me. I did not greet them, but said one word.

"Move."

And I waited.

They parted and as I passed, Ron touched my tattoo. I turned with my wand out and narrowed my eyes.

"Ronald Weasley, if you touch me again, I will have to hurt you."

With that I added "Ickle Ronniekins" and walked away leaving them staring after me, wondering how I knew Ron's brothers' nickname for him.