(Just to tell you, this isn't going to be one of those stories when Hermione comes back and is beautiful, but doesn't know, and she and Draco's eyes meet across a crowded room etc. Thought you should know. )
Hermione always liked things to be just so. Even numbers and straight lines were evident everywhere in her life, from her two best friends to the way her bed was perpendicular to the wall. Some might call it obsessive, Hermione called it perfection.
She liked perfection, it made her feel safe and in control. There was a quote she had once heard, if you feel like you're in control, you're not going fast enough. Hermione hated that saying. She was perfectly happy, thank you very much, and that was the way things were going to stay.
Ever since she found out that she was a witch, Hermione felt control and perfection slipping away from her, this summer was the worst so far. She did her best to hang on for dear life to the things she could exert her power over.
Her two best friends were a prime example. She knew exactly what made them tick, and how she could play off their hopes and fear to get them to do what she wanted. Very Slytherin, yet she never used her knowledge for bad, as she saw it. Just little things like refusing to hug Harry, who craved affection, until he had done his home work. Or raving bout Ron's brothers' quidditch talent when he wouldn't stop talking about his favorite sport. The little things.
She was so busy being in control however, she didn't realize when all the signs pointed towards an outbreak of disaster. This came suddenly and swiftly, and left her broken, just before her seventh year.
There was good news too, of course, but it paled in comparison.
Dear Ms. Granger.
In keeping with Hogwarts position, we have given the head girl post to the best candidates in the year. You, Ms. Granger, were the best candidate.
This is an honorable role, which we hope you won't take advantage of. We trust you. The teacher showed this trust in voting you in, you won by an overwhelming majority, and this shows our confidence that you will do a good job.
We look forward to seeing you take up this noble role, and will talk to you about the responsibilities on the train, on September the first.
Congratulations, and good luck,
The Hogwarts staff.
You may think that the first thing one would do when getting a letter like this might be to rush down and tell one's parents, or jump for joy, or even do a happy dance. Hermione put the letter on her desk and lined up the sides with the corners of the table. She then tapped her right thumb four times, for good luck, before contemplating breaking the news to her family. She decided against it, they wouldn't care. Theirs was not a happy house.
Over the summer her mother had died. Suddenly, out of the blue, unexpected, one day he was here, and then she wasn't. And she wouldn't be ever again. Hermione herself had been in the car when it was hit, and all she was left with was a scar running through her left eyebrow. A constant reminder of how she had escaped death when her mother hadn't. Her father had become more and more withdrawn from then on; her parents had been so much in love. The only thing that kept Hermione going was the thought of Hogwarts. I'll tell Harry and Ron, they'll fix it. It will be fine again.
September first Hermione boarded the Hogwarts express alone, and made her way to the compartment at the end of the train that she usually shared with Harry and Ron. Neither was there, so she took out a muggle book, Lireal, and started to read. Soon she was bent double with her hair covering her ace and legs, like a tent of mousey brown. She didn't hear the door open, nor the two boys enter in, laughing and joking.
It took a while for them to notice her, and they had to resort to shaking her shoulders to get her to notice them back. Hermione was not amused. They started talking, but all of a sudden she didn't want to hear. Where can you go on a full train that you can get some privacy? Was the only thought crossing her mind. She got up to go to the Head compartment. Harry and Ron never noticed.
Once there, Hermione lay down across one of the benches and fell asleep. She woke a while later to hear voices. It took her a while to realize the fact that it was Harry and Ron talking outside her compartment.
"Thank the Lord Hermione wasn't in one of her lecture moods today. That girl really needs to loosen up, or go be annoying somewhere else."
"Ron! Yeah, well, maybe a bit. And would it kill her to be a bit more girly? I mean, look at all the other girls in the year, they're all relatively pretty, and defiantly not chubby, like Hermione."
Chubby. Chubby! All this time I thought that I was the one controlling them, when it was the other way around. How could the people that I trusted the most let me down like this? And they did it behind my back! They don't care. They won't fix it. It wont be fine.
Hermione felt dead. There was not one person in the school who would miss her if she died, not one person who liked her. Nobody cared, no family, no friends, there was nothing left living for. Her world of perfection was gone. Dead like she should be, black and full of nothing.
She fainted.
(A/n not very good, but it might get better. I hope it will anyway, if you have any suggestions, review and tell me, or email me. It would be greatly appreciated)