Author : Armmonde
Disclaimer: Harry Potter doesn't belong to me, most of them belong to the J.K. Rowlings. All I take pride in owning is the plot line and the complete revamp of Hermione, or is it.
Warnings: This fic takes place in an alternate universe (au) which means everything is written with years one through four in consideration but from then it is all product of my imagination. Don't worry anything that is not clearly discussed in the Harry Potter books, I will try and fudge around the facts a bit so my plot actually fits in with all of the original characters pasts. I started writing this whilst depressed about something or other, so don't be afraid and think "Whoa, this girl is a psycho!" you can think that after you get to know me a little bit. Heh.
School Year: 5th
Pairings: Hermione and Draco.
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Hermione Granger. The girl had it made, good friends, smarts, and the best home life in the world. Her parents were kind, gentle, they actually listened to her I bet. But you must realize this was all past tense, she had all those things, but it seems not anymore. I had been watching the girl more closely than I had ever before. That first day, on the Hogwarts Express, I stumbled apon her all alone in a cabin.
"Leave." She said after a few moments of me just staring at her. I smirked, like I always did.
"No, I think I'll stay Granger." And I took a seat. She had her feet curled underneath her and rested her jaw on her right hand staring out the window. Not once had she looked at me, I don't think she knew it even was me, I don't think she even cared. As I looked her over more closely I noticed a streak of yellowish bruises peaking over her black shirt collar. They were about a week and a half old. Being the victim of my father's beatings many a time, I had grown to know these types of things. Then I realized she was fully covered, long sleeved black shirt with a straight edge collar. The sleeves were clasped in her fisted hands, covering most of her hand as well. Her legs were wrapped in what looked like men's cut trousers, loose if she were to stand and a little too long for her. And her feet, on which she would usually be wearing the Hogwarts uniform brown leather shoes, were black thickly soled boots with straps and silver buckles instead of laces. They were partly covered with the trousers.
"No boyfriends?" I asked not ready to ask her what I had really wanted to know. She shook her head at my question, still not turning to look at me. Her hair had been covering half of her face, so I couldn't read her expression.
"They are a few cabins over. You can go get your jollies off talking to them." She said indifferently. She had the nerve to question my motive on making fun of Potter and Weasel!
"Your one funny broad." I joked trying to get a rise out of her. She finally turned her head to me and looked me dead in the eye as I sized her up. She seemed a lot darker in skin than usual, but not a tanned bronze, an dusk ethnic tint that she definitely did not have before, which perplexed me. Not only did she have bruises on her neck she also had a large one, freshly made on her right temple, extending down to her cheek.
"Who did that then?" I asked softly with a carefully toned concern that I didn't want her to know I had. I could question her on the appearance change later.
"Stop. You're acting just like my boyfriends, as you call them. I thought you were better than that." That caught me off guard, you would think she would tell anyone with a concerning ear what had happen to her. You know all that pity party thing girls usually go for.
"Alright, no asking about the bruises. How was your summer?" I asked smirking at her.
"Real funny." She had lifted her eyebrows at my oh so subtle hint at wanting to know what happened to her.
"I try." I leaned forward a little closer to her. "You know, there are charms to hide those bruises." I whispered as if it was a big secret, breathing in her natural un-perfumed smell of soft laundry detergent.
"Of course I know." Stupid me, I was only talking to the smartest girl at Hogwarts.
"Then why not use them and save you the trouble of having to tell people to shove off?" I said once again leaning back and stretching arms over the back of the bench. She was looking at me again.
"I am not ashamed. I am not going to give him the satisfaction, even if he can't see me now." She said commonly. She used the word him. So it was a man, no not a man, a man wouldn't beat a girl, this 'him' was simply a male.
"Him." I said out loud to myself.
"Don't think you've out smarted me Draco. If you really want to know about me, why don't you go and talk to my boyfriends about it, you guys can have tea and everything. Discussing the finer points of male egotism." With that said she had got up and left me in the cabin all by myself.
Yes, The girl simply was a mystery to me. Recognizance was definitely needed in order to dive more into the depths of a one Hermione Granger.
AN: I just wrote this because I'm in the mood for a dark Hermione change, I am in the middle of writing my Learning the Truth Hermione/Draco story so don't expect an update. This is just a little go nowhere ficlette on the subject of Hermione's home life. Review if necessary.