Hey Everyone. This is my first fanfic, so I hope you like it. Reviews are always welcome; they help me perfect my fanfic especially since I'm a newbie to this. Let me know what you think:)
Disclaimer: The characters, concepts, and places that belong to JK Rowling are solely her creation and property. I do not profit from their use. The rest are my own ideas.
I always dread Friday nights. They alone were my worries and miseries. Friday nights had imbalance of power and abusive behavior open to the public. Every Friday night was the same routine. I lay, curled in bed, my knees to my chest and my bed sheets around me in fear. Waiting, always waiting for that dreadful knock. I, Hermione Granger, wasn't usually scared of things; I usually faced things head on. But this was different.
I drifted away in my thoughts, thinking of Friday nights. The nights my life always changed for the worse. He would knock on my door, knowing, always knowing I would be there. He needn't worry. I always was. It was as if he had some spell over me. I couldn't run; he had the power. He knew it too, and he used it. The first time he tried raping me, I was afraid, the expected behavior.
It was the end of 5th year. And the "he" was Harry Potter. Harry Potter, The boy who lived, Famous Potter. He had been longing for love ever since Cho Chang, the popular, pretty, Ravenclaw seeker, had broken up with him.
At first, he tried to get me to like it, for it to be fun, so he wouldn't feel so guilty, I thought. He had my wand the first night. The other nights he didn't need it. Anything I tried, he defeated with tricky spell work, dark magic.
The next time, the last time that year, I tried to enjoy it. After all, I did like him. Everyone knew it too. I made the mistake of telling Lavender one day, who told Parvati, who told Padma, and so on. You get the drift. No one would believe he was raping me. And why should they? It was known now that I loved him. And no one would believe Mud blood Granger over Famous Harry Potter, the Boy who lived. He knew that too. Even when I tried to enjoy it, I couldn't. At first, I was confused. Why didn't I like it? He was gentle, almost caring, and I loved him. So why did I despise this so?
At this point, my thoughts were interrupted by a strong knock on my bedroom door. I wanted to sob, but I would never give him that satisfaction! He knocked again with more force and I could tell he was getting angrier. But he knew I would answer. Eventually, I always did. But this time, he didn't wait. He slipped a note under my door and when his soft footsteps disappeared, I knew he was gone.
Only then, did I let out a long, low wail. A note was worse. Whenever there was a note, I would have to meet him later, in the dead of night. It meant he was longing again, thinking of Cho maybe. He was rougher then and it lasted longer. I dawdled awhile before reading it, as though it would disappear. I finally read it, my worst fears confirmed. After one last look at his horrid handwriting I threw it down on the floor, disgusted. It said:
Hermione,
Meet me tonight at midnight, your room. You know what'll happen if you don't. Harry
I flopped on my bed. I was the only one in Grimmauld place with my own room so it made it easy for Harry. I glanced at my watch, 10:46 PM. I lay there for a while thinking. I was wearing my pajamas. Easy for him to take off, but it didn't matter. I didn't bother changing. It would slow him down a bit, but stop him? No. No way.
A few nights ago, I realized why I couldn't like it. I wasn't ready for it, even though I liked him. I had never even touched him before that. I wasn't ready for it. Also, deep in my heart, I knew he didn't like me. I had told myself that he liked me, needed me. But this was a lie. He used me for his own sick pleasure. He didn't like me. Once again, my thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. I glanced at my clock, 11:59. Oh great, I thought to myself. I hadn't been keeping track of the time.
He knocked again, but softly, so not to wake anyone else up. I was shaking as I opened the door. He stood there, looking happy. "Wand." He said, simply, holding out his hand. I gave it to him. I had to. I had tried fighting him. I just got hurt. He smiled, and put it in his pocket. Slowly, he took off his cloak, shoes, socks, jeans, shirt, etc. He always took his time and concentrated on his first. He took me gently in his arms. It seemed as though he loved me. But I knew better.
A moment later, he had ripped off my shirt. After he had finished undressing me he pulled me gently on the bed with him. He kissed me tenderly and did everything gently, but that made it no better. His hands were like spiders, all over my body, especially my chest. He liked my figure. That's why he picked me, he said. I silently tried to edge off the bed, but he caught me. He laughed an evil laugh and went inside me even more. He was wearing a condom so at least I wouldn't get pregnant. I just let him do it to me. There was no stopping it. He moved his hands over every part of my body once before being satisfied. He threw his clothes back on. He turned to me and threw me my wand.
"See ya." He said casually, as though we had just hung out or something, and then he was gone. When he walked out the door, he took with him my pride, my security and my virginity. I had so many thoughts going through my mind. What if I tell someone and they don't believe me? Was it my fault? I thought Harry was my best friend, how could he do this to me? Not to mention the multiple feelings I had. Shame. Guilt. Anger. Fear. But most of all disbelief. How could this happen to me? I stood there for a moment, before collapsing on my bed and cried.
I dried my eyes and laid in bed, staring at the ceiling for most of the night. I hated it. Hated the fear, the waiting and the pain. I didn't know why I felt pain. He was pretty gentle. He knew what hurt and everything, but that wasn't the kind of pain he caused me.
I thought back to the first time it happened, the night I was scarred for life. A night unlike any other . . . .
A small girl, a muggle-born, with bushy brown hair, lying awake in Gryffindor tower. All alone in her room. Her roommates, Parvati and Lavender had set off for a night of romance in Seamus and Dean's room. The girl was alone, lonely, with a book in her arms. But her eyes were not focused on that. She was thinking about her crush. Who, at the time, was Harry. She sat staring at the ceiling dreaming, imagining him, Harry coming into her room for a night of passion. Everyone thought this girl to be a goodie-goodie, but she thought about sex and romance often.
She had little experience in the area, but had gone farther than some she knew. None knew of her strong relationship with Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian seeker. None knew how close she had come to losing her virginity that night. Though she had not told Harry and Ron, she had visited Viktor over the summer. She knew the thought would not please them. However now, she looked back and thought maybe if she had told, Harry wouldn't be doing this to her. But then again, Harry probably didn't care. She thought of her summer romance with Viktor. How close they had been. With them both half naked, they lay on the bed, passionately kissing. But a rustling outside and a knock on the door interrupted them. Viktor was forced to hide and Hermione pretending to be asleep. Viktor, embarrassed and startled, left soon after. The next morning Hermione left. As she thought of that night often at the time, she wished it had been with Harry. While thinking this in her bedroom in Gryffindor Tower her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. Thinking it was Parvati or Lavender, coming back half-naked and drunk, she opened the door. At the time, I was quite surprised and happy to see Harry standing there. Remembering this feeling, I pounded my pillow. I shouldn't have been happy to see that bastard! I did not know at the time. He stood there smiling, and then grabbed my wand. I had not found this suspicious, for Harry was my very best friend. Harry closed in on me and kissed me deeply. I was surprised and pleased. But then he went further, taking off my shirt and his pants. I struggled but he was too strong for me. He forced me onto the bed. Ripping off both of our clothes, he told me he needed me for this. I had tried to scream but he silenced me. He told me he liked my figure and that I would suit well at this. He explained he needed me as he needed love and he was wearing a condom so it wouldn't matter anyway. I found that the more I struggled the deeper he went into me, hurt me more. His hands like spiders, more that night than any other. My head was racing with thoughts
Hermione shuddered at the thought. He had left, after telling her she had a great body and shouldn't let it go to waste. Then he had left. She was shocked and hurt, not knowing what to do. She surveyed the possibilities from all angles, but there was no way out. She cried for a long time, not knowing what to do. She still didn't know what to do, but she was scared. When Harry got lonely, things were dreadful. If he was lonely, he came every night.
The only night guaranteed was Friday, he always came Friday. Hermione pondered all these things until late that night. Who could she tell? Who would believe her? Most of her questions seemed unanswerable. But one thing stood out clearly in her mind: He'd be back tomorrow. She could feel it. Whenever he came late into the night instead of just after everyone went to sleep, he was lonely. Needing love was a scary thing for Harry. Hermione longed to go back to Hogwarts. There, he couldn't come so often. She smiled at the thought.
Hermione thought more and more of Harry throughout the night, thinking of Ron too. Would Ron believe her? She hoped so, but would she have the courage to tell him? She wasn't so sure. She thought of ways, preparing speeches, etc. All these thoughts mixing around in her head had lulled her to sleep. And sleep finally came. One last thought came to her before sleep claimed her; He must not get away with this. She smiled and rolled over, thinking if only it were that easy . . .