It was a cold, rainy night. Thunder clouds floated over a school called Hogwarts. In a corner of the castle, a girl named Hermione Granger was crying, her tears like the rain falling loudly outside.
Hermione Granger was not your average girl. She was a very powerful witch for her age, and even though she had to study sometimes things can very easily to her. In fact, lately she had been very good at using the Dark Arts.
On Sunday, going into the portrait hole that led to the Gryffindor common room, she had heard running footsteps behind her. She felt very scared and paranoid and turned and screamed, "Polyuria" She then heard a very familiar scream. She turned and realized Ron had fallen down on the floor shivering excessively. Later she couldn't explain to Madam Pomfrey how it had happened. How did she ever learn such an evil spell?
Then yesterday when eating in the Great Hall she had felt something poke her foot. She screamed and jumped in the air, waving her wand and saying, "Urticaria!" Across the table from her, Harry started twitching uncontrollably and again had to be taken to the nurse's office. Hermione didn't remember even reading about a curse like that before… and yet she'd used it? How could this be?
Lately Hermione had taken to sitting alone in a corner of the Gryffindor common room, shivering and crying softly, but no one could see her behind the curtain of shining brown hair, which she let down where it fell to her waist. No one came to talk to her. Everyone ignored her. Sometimes she thought they were whispering behind her back. Even Harry and Ron looked different… She had to admit to herself that her heart still stopped beating every time she looked at Harry, even then. He was such a hot guy… but how could she possible ever have a chance with him? And she couldn't tell any of her friends, in case they laughed at her.
Who were her friends? Did she have any friends? A tear streamed down her creamy cheek. She always felt so lost and confused, with no one to talk to. Another tear developed in her shining hazel eyes. She was so alone. Alone… Always alone… Alone in the common room. Alone in the library. Alone. All alone…
Even her parents were acting strangely. Hermione had always loved her parents, even though she never used to see them very much, because they were busy dentists, but now she saw them even less because she was at Hogwarts. But they always replied her letters, even if they were afraid of the owls. But lately she hadn't heard from them at all. Did they not love her anymore?
Fresh tears came to Hermione's tearful brown eyes, and she began to sob aloud, but still no one came to her. Harry and Ron were studying for a divination test. Hermione laughed sarcastically to herself. She knew she of all people should be studying too, but she just didn't feel like it. Anyway she would still get top marks in all her classes tomorrow. The only thing she felt like reading about was Dark Arts… but not defense against the Dark Arts, her class, but the DARK ARTS themselves…
Something was very wrong. Hermione could feel it. Something was not right. Why was she suddenly so interested in the Dark Arts? Why had her parents mysteriously disappeared?
Hermione went upstairs and changed into her white lace-trimmed silk nightgown. She didn't understand her life anymore. She was about to lose all hope. Who was she really? Outside she looked like the smart, perfect girl, but inside she was falling apart.
"Why do I have to live a lie?" Hermione whispered to herself, lying in bed. She read a few pages of Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen before giving up, it wasn't as interesting as a lot of people said it was. She couldn't sleep. But eventually she fell asleep.
I'm going under,
Drowning you
I'm falling forever,
I've got to break through,
I'm going under.
Blurring and stirring the truth and the lies,
So I don't know what's real and what's not.
Always confusing the thoughts in my head,
So I can't trust myself anymore.
When she opened her eyes again she didn't know where she was. "Great," she said to herself in disgust, thinking she must have gotten drunk on the secret stash of Firewhiskey she kept under her bed, it wouldn't be the first time. She sat up and looked around. She was in some kind of a dungeon. The walls were covered in torture equipment.
Somewhere behind her, she heard a woman laugh. Hermione turned around quickly.
"Bellatrix Lestrange!" she cried out, shocked.
"Hermione!" said Bellatrix, caressing her wand between her long slender pale fingers. "You don't know how long I've wanted to see you…" She shook her long shining black hair from her alabaster face. She was smiling, but… not evilly. She looked… caring?
"Let me go," screamed Hermione.
"Hermione, my lovely girl…" Bellatrix smiled. "Such a smart, pretty girl… Surely you must have guessed, after all these years?"
"Guessed what? Why are you keeping me here?" Hermione looked at the torture equipment in fear.
"Oh, Hermione, surely you must have realized that such a gifted witch as you… with such great potential for the Dark Arts… could not have come from Muggle parents?"
"I don't understand…" Hermione's large brown eyes filled with tears. She was so confused. What was happening?
"Don't cry, child," Bellatrix whispered, putting a hand on her shoulder. And for the first time in months, Hermione did not flinch away, just carried on sobbing, sobbing until she could not make tears anymore.
"B-bellatrix…" Hermione said. "What's going on?"
Bellatrix smiled again, a glint in her totally black eyes. "A glorious time of your life is finally going to begin…"
Her next two words made Hermione's mouth fall open.
"…My daughter."
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