Hermione tried to concentrate on what Harry and Ron were talking about or even on the clanking noise the train makes, as the steel wheels speed quickly along the steel tracks, but the memory of what happened to her a fortnight ago seemed to be clouding her overstuffed brain and vision. What happened to Hermione seemed to be occupying ever second of her days and nights. Hermione had come home from a long day of shopping and buying supplies for her final year at Hogwarts. It was like same old same old, she had arrived home two hours before her parents were due back from the dental office, so Hermione had decided to use the time to organize everything before classes would begin. She couldn't believe that she had let her guard down; how could she forget that even if Voldemort had been defeated for the last time, it did not mean that there were not other dangers to be cautious about. 'Except I was in my home.' Hermione sadly noted to herself. She began to wallow in her self-pity, trying to stop the memory but it was just too strong for her.
'Your home is supposed to be you safe haven, the place where you can sleep safely eat safely, where you don't have to keep looking over you shoulder as if somebody were after you. Its one place in the entire world where you can have your undisturbed personal space, a security blanket that no one can take away from you, right? That's just something we all want to believe. It's not that we don't want to, it's just so much has happened and we can't. This world that we, the next generation of leaders have inherited from our parents is a mess, this is a world of crime of death of pain and suffering.
Curses, why hadn't I been more observant around me. Maybe if I had noticed the lights turned on in my room, or the over turned jewelry box hidden on the opposite side of my computer, I could have notice that someone might still be in the house, but I didn't.' Hermione had ranted to herself.
Before the full force of the memory wrapped a firm grip around Hermione's emotions, she quickly excused herself from compartment, knowing that no matter how hard she tried to stop the memory from finishing, or more so starting, she would soon burst out in tears. Hermione knew them well enough to know that they wouldn't give in until they knew the truth. Hermione didn't want anyone to know. It was to be her darkest secret hidden from the entire world. The only souls who knew about this were her family members, and even that made her feel dirty.
As she hid in one of the empty compartments and closed the dark shades for some privacy, did she finally allow the memory of that horrible day wash over her. She had thrown all her packages and bags of muggle and wizard goods onto her bed, and began stripping down, and searching for the new pair of jeans and sweater she had bought. With the loud slamming of Hermione's bedroom door, she whirled around seeing a tall, ugly man leaning against her door with an evil grin. Hermione stood shocked, everything in her mind turning to mud. After a few wasted seconds Hermione's senses came back and she went to launch herself to her computer desk, where a large pair of scissors sat. The intruder saw this and launched for her. Hermione missed the scissors by a mere centimeter and was tackled to the floor but the robber.
She began to scream and struggle violently as the man began to straddle her waist and pin her arms up above her head. Hermione arched her back up towards in an attempt to cause him to loose his balance, just a second. But it only resulted in her brushing her whole body up against his. Tears began blurring her eyes as she tried desperately to free herself with no avail. Hermione watched in pure horror how this pig, groped and felt her up. She wanted to vomit the whole entire time, she saw him unzip his pants and remove his member from them, he ripped her knickers off of her and forcefully spread her legs open. Hermione began to struggle even more, but this time, he took out a knife and stationed it across her neck, as a threat, to stop her from moving, or so Hermione thought. He began to make small cuts over her stomach. He slid the knife under her bra in between her breast, slicing the white cotton exposing her. Tears slid down the sides of her face as he cut and thrust into her, breaking her down like a wild beast.
After what felt like eternity, everything seemed to stop; she retreated into a little black corner in her mind, curling up into the fetal position. That's how her parents had found her. Hermione was huddled in a corner next to the computer desk, naked and bawling her eyes out. Her mother screamed for her husband as she rushed over to her daughter and began cradling her.
Hermione surfaced from the memory. Tears streamed down her face from closed eyelids and the familiar feeling of needing to bath washed over her. After the whole ordeal played in her mind again, she had come to a conclusion, 'I am tainted.'