Let It Burn: Prologue

If I could tell you how I got to this point in my life, I would. I honestly can say I do not know. The past year has gone by in a painful blur; everything colliding together in a jumble of emotions and confusion. Before everything started spiraling dangerously out of control, I was a normal sixteen year-old girl, except that I'm a witch.

So how did I end up in a hollowed out old house, a small woolen blanket wrapped around my body, as I write this? Once again, I don't know. Physically, yes, I do know how I got here. My husband, whom I barely know and don't love, brought me to this place in order to protect me from him. Mentally, though, I have no knowledge of how everything in my life has changed so much over the mere 10 months that have passed.

As I sit here, now seventeen years of age, I keep pulling the moth-eaten blanket tighter around my body. A tiny fire flows from the fireplace in the corner of the dusty room, but I'm still cold. Inside and out.

I'm tired. My body is tired, my mind, my soul; they are all so tired... Tired of being hurt, tired of being afraid and of being vulnerable. Tired of being confused, angry, and sad. I guess you could say I am tired of living, but still want to live. There is very little of my true self left in this empty shell of a body. I've been stripped of any type of pride I had earned over the past seven years. I have no true friends. My parents, basically my only family, don't remember a single thing about me anymore, thanks to the vile piece of filth that has controlled me for so long. It would seem to any sane person that I've lost everything.

But I haven't, and I refuse to believe it. The one thing, the one person, that kept me going and still does, is my only reason to try to dig myself out of this deep and dark hole that was built out of my despair, failures, and vulnerability.

The past year has been a blurry one, but I can remember the few times I laughed. It sometimes seems like I had forgotten how to laugh again. I have nothing to really laugh about; everything is a matter of life or death. All but a small amount of smiles were forced and the laughs were hollow and empty. For the first time in all my seventeen years of living, I cried more than I smiled that year.

Its nine o' clock at night. I'm not quite sure where the hell I am. I could be on the other side of the world or I could be five minutes from my old home. I didn't ask questions. I had stopped a long time ago when it became obvious that I wouldn't get any answers. I have no clue where he's taken me or where he is. I also don't know how long I'm going to have to stay here. No matter how numb and broken I feel, I still would rather be anywhere but in this place.

Well... almost anywhere.

I'm writing this as an explanation to everyone who used to or possibly still does care about me. You all deserve to know the truth as to why I pushed you away. I had to in order to "keep those I loved safe". But now I learned that he told me that as a sick and horrible joke to torment me and ruin what parts of my life I still had after the smoke cleared. I feel stupid for believing that bastard, but I guess my fear for him towered over my judgement. I mean, come on, he was the darkest wizard ever to exist - I don't think anyone, even my husband, wasn't afraid of him.

So, here starts the dark and twisted story of Hermione Granger-Malfoy; the girl whose life became a roller coaster because she was Harry Potter's Muggle-born girlfriend. Life sure is funny.