Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling owns all the Harry Potter characters stated in the story.

We Can Never Truly Change

Dramione

Hermione's whole life had been centered on pain. Nothing she did was right and she was constantly receiving punishments for the slightest failures. Her endless list of chores as well as her terrible leaving conditions made Hermione into a wretched child.

Her mother had always hoped for a son, and after Hermione, her eggs were unusable. Her father struggled to bring in enough revenue to support their family and blamed his ill fortunes on his only child.

The only time she felt any happiness was when she was left alone to read or play. She searched her books for information regarding her ability to cause strange actions.

For instance when one day when she knew she was going to receive a beating she had scurried into her room as fast as she could and crouched on her bed. When she heard her father running after her she didn't have any time to slam the door, she just focused on the action and sure enough when he was yelling at her in the door way it slammed shut upon him.

Hermione didn't know how and why these things happened but she was happy they were there to protect her.

Sometimes she felt that the reason her parents did not show her affection was because of her appearance. Her big front teeth and frizzy hair had always frustrated her mother and she could see the envy radiating from her skin when she say other beautiful children playing with their parents.

That day, though, had been the last straw. She was tired of the lack of love she felt and she didn't understand what had happened to make her parents hate their little girl so much. Her father had just finished punishing her for ripping her dress while playing and she could taste the blood in her mouth mixing with the tears that fell from her eyes.

This beating had be the worst so far. He had whipped her back, slapped her face, and even twisted her arm behind her back to the point of fracturing it. When the beatings first began, Hermione did not know, she only remembered that she had been very young. She would never forget the look of hatred in her fathers eyes every time he beat her.

She stood up from her bed and walked to her small and dingy closet searching for her tattered suitcase. When she found it she silently filled it with her favorite books and her pathetic amount of clothing.

After locating the picture of her family sitting around a birthday cake at her second birthday, she questioned how she had managed to lose their love. Tears slid down her cheeks as she packed it away.

Standing up and slowly creeping out of her room she tiptoed to the front door and opened it. Looking back at her mother passed out in her rocking chair and her father chugging his beer, she carefully closed the door behind her.

She was starting a new life and she didn't plan on looking back.

Hermione wiped the tears from her face and touched her lip to make sure the blood had stopped flowing.

She was never coming back.

As she walked down the concrete street, the sun in her eyes, Hermione couldn't help but feel free. She was never going to be beaten again. She was leaving this decrepit sinkhole that she had called home. She could do anything and be whatever she wanted to be.

Making her way to the park that she knew was at the end of the street she considered what her next step in life would be.

She was eight years old and barely knew anything from experience only from the books she was constantly reading.

When she finally reached the park she pulled her luggage in front of her and sat on the bench that stood near the outskirts of the playground. Looking around she took in all the children her age playing and laughing. She couldn't remember the last time she had laughed, the idea seemed so foreign to her now.

After a few long minutes Hermione noticed a large group that was playing together. There was seven of them and they all had fiery hair and freckled faces. The youngest looked to be a little younger than her. All though many of them were much to old to be playing on the park the looked to be enjoying themselves as they entertained the younger children.

Hermione watched as they ran and tackled one another and jealousy bubbled in her stomach. How come they received so much love while she was left with nothing?

She looked around to find the creators of such a family and located a loving couple watching their children play. The man had laugh lines around his eyes and between his eyebrows and his mates curly red hair bounced as she laughed.

She couldn't remember the last time she had witnessed her parents laugh. How could this couple look so enthralled with their children? She had never seen so much love aimed at a child. She had hungered for love and affection from her parents and was left feeling hated when she did not receive any.

Those children looked like they had never felt pain, never been beaten, never held responsible.

She wanted a life like theirs, she wanted to be loved like them, she would be one of them. She just knew it!

I'm sorry that to for my story to work Hermione had to be beaten. Beating a child is never okay and I hope that none of you take my writing as me saying that it is.

Trust me she has an amazing life ahead of her. I can't wait to write about when she starts school or when meets Harry and Draco. I have so many ideas and I hope you guys will like them.

Please tell me if you guys have any suggestions as to what you want to happen in the FanFic.

Sorry that's slow right now but I promise it is going to pick up real soon.

Thank you for reading and supporting my writing.

Reviews are always very much appreciated. :]

-Lauren