Disclaimer: Harry potter totally belongs to J.K. Rowling...wish it belonged to me, but I'm not that much of a genius. I can only thank her for her amazing stories, without them there would be no fan fiction.
Chapter 1: A Secret
The covers were warm and sensual, a place of hiding. A place that no one could interfere with, and yet she knew she had to remove herself from its relief. One foot would start the process. It was the same every morning, and the only thing that seemed to do the trick was the cold wooden floor. Her toes finally made contact and the chill ran pleasantly yet painfully up her leg. Her mind tried to reel her back into dreamland, and she pushed against it reminding herself of the days tasks. A second foot emerged, but now came the tough part, actually removing herself from the cocoon she had created during the night. In one brave attempt to release herself from sleeps captivity she flung the remaining covers off her body. The chill of the room hitting her exposed skin.
"get up...get up..." the thought running constantly through her head, the tendrils of her dream slowly loosing its grip. As she grew older it seemed that sleep had a more tolling effect than she could ever imagine and during mornings like this she understood how someone could sleep into the middle of the day.
She knew the next step, attempting to open her eyes. It was rough, the morning sunshine seemed to blind her momentarily causing her vision to go in out of focus. It was sleeps last attempt at claiming her. Slowly she propped her elbows up, allowing her head to roll back in a dead like fashion.
"bloody hell..." the curse came out before she even had time to filter it. Her body ached. She dropped her elbows from under her, falling back onto the beds surface, by now her mind was fully functional.
A laugh escaped her, for some odd reason staring at the ceiling helped, she determined that it was because she had something to focus on, something to take her mind off the night before.
After a few stifling moments she could feel movement on the bed, and shortly after a squished faced ginger cat presented itself. He seemed to find it to early for his master to rise and kindly wrapped his body around her head, purring loudly as he did so. This only made her task more difficult. Moving her head towards his face she allowed him to nuzzle in to her, gently licking her nose and attempt to comfort her back into sleep.
"Hello Crookshanks...good morning..." Her voice came out groggy and raspy, a soft smile played across her face, but it dropped quickly after.
"I have to get up..." She nodded her eyes serious. She was trying to will her body into listening.
"Mr. Weasley is coming to get us today...we are going to go to the Quidditch cup! Well...I'm going, but you Mr. Snuggly don't get to go...sorry." Talking to him seemed to help and before she knew it she was sitting up rubbing his belly, and gently nuzzling his face with her nose.
"Okay...your right...time to get ready...you know I wish you really could speak..." A deep sigh was released and with that she stood up. This most likely was not her brightest idea, her head began to spin as the pain set in, and she reached out a hand to steady herself on the beds banister, the other grabbed her forehead instinctively.
"...come on...its not that bad" she told herself as she forced her body upright.
Gradually she made her way to her vanity. It was her favorite and yet saddest spot in the room. Many memories revolved around that vanity. It had originally been her mothers and when she was younger she would spend hours playing dress up in front of it, but now it kept her secrets. As she sat down on the cushioned seat she looked into the mirror an exasperated sigh echoing around the room. Instead of a child a woman looked back, her hair was extra frizzy this morning and needed much care, but the most defining features on her face was her swollen lip and greatly bruised cheekbone.
"Not much on the face...good" A hint of sadness graced her voice for a moment.
Carefully she began to pull out her tools of disguise, since she couldn't use magic she would have to handle the problem with muggle methods. As she applied the make-up a light knock came to the door. Instinctively her body froze terror flashing in her eyes. She knew who it was, but still needed time before facing him.
"Hermione...hunny...I-I hope you will come join me and your mother for breakfast...before Arthur gets here." The voice was almost a whisper with a slight apologetic tone.
Immediately following was the sound of something scraping against the bottom of the door. A quick glance over confirmed that it was a letter being wedged through. The brunette made no attempt to respond, and after a few moments of silence footsteps could be heard traveling away from her room and towards the kitchen. Her ginger companion slinked over to the envelope, sniffing it for moment before settling atop it, he knew she didn't want to think about its contents.
Crookshanks actions did the trick and instead she turned back to the mirror to focus on the task at hand. She needed to look presentable to her mother and the Weasley's. It took nearly a half hour to cover her face and shoulders, that would do, if she caked on to much make-up she would look like a scarlet lady. After a few side inspections in the mirror she began to pick out her clothes for the day. She found a nice pair of skinny jeans, her boots, and a long sleeved black shirt, it had a lion on the front made out of gold beads.
Before she knew it she was standing in front of her door, Crookshanks glared up at her, he obviously did not want her to leave. She kneeled down to his level and scooped him up, flipping him on his back like a baby in a mothers arms. With her free hand she retrieved the envelope, feeling the weight she knew what was inside. He would write down all the reasons for his behavior, and then there was the money, money was always involved, and it disgusted her that she would always except. It was either going to be her body being abused once in a while, or her mothers, and she didn't want the beautiful woman to have a care in the world. She decided to inspect the letter later, haphazardly shoving the envelope in her back pocket hoping she would forget about it for the time being.
"I'm no Gryffindor...I'm just a coward." Her lip trembled for a moment, tears threatening to ruin her appearance. After a few seconds she recollected herself and opened her bedroom door to the hallway. At once her ginger friend pulled himself free from her hold, and trotted off towards the kitchen himself. The walk to breakfast was a agonizing one, her feet kept going but her mind was trying not to replay the violence that had taken place in these halls not even hours before. She could hear the sizzle of food on the stove, and the smell of bacon teased her senses as she joined her family.
A tall thin woman stood over a few pans on the oven, one hand on her hip and the other holding a spatula. She wore a kiss the cook apron and seemed annoyed at how her breakfast was turning out. Her hair was not bushy like her daughters, it was long and straight, perfectly pulled back in a red scrunchie. Jean Granger was not a very good cook, but she insisted on trying.
"Smells great Mom... Good Morning." She had learned to lie over the last few summers and this morning was no different. Her voice sounded carefree and happy. She moved over behind her mother and hugged her around the middle, receiving a pat on the arm as she did so.
"Good Morning Sunshine! Breakfast will be ready...in...five minutes?" The ending of the sentence came out more as a question than a statement, but Hermione didn't mind, in her eyes her mother was perfect. A cough from the table caught her attention and her body almost tensed as she turned and saw her father sitting there reading the newspaper. She corrected herself quickly, and walked over placing a gentle kiss on the mans cheek, no emotion behind it.
"Good morning father..." Her voice dripped with kindness, and she settled into the seat farthest from him.
"How was your shift last night dear?" The rough voice made Hermione's skin crawl. Jean answered back unknowingly.
"Well...Mr. Tallymen...you remember him Robert. He came in last night for the tenth time this month, thought rat poison was sugar. I swear that man needs to go get some glasses. Every time he comes into the ER its has to do with him not reading something properly. I miss the dentistry days, at least you cant really mess up brushing your own teeth." Her laugh was just as beautiful as she was. Hermione knew that she loved every patient, they were lucky to have her as a nurse.
"How was your night? What did you two do?" With this Jean turned around food prepared on two different plates. She walked over to the table setting them down.
"Now dig in before it gets cold!"
Cold burnt eggs may have tasted better in Hermione's mind, but if she mixed them with the bacon, and bread it didn't taste as bad as it looked. After a few moments, of forced eating, the younger brunette spoke up.
"We had a lot of fun." She noticed her father look up from the paper, fear and anger momentarily flashing in his eyes. "Watched that new movie you bought, Limitless. Oh Mum you would have loved it, Dad fell asleep though." Her lie was flawlessly spoken, and it pained her a bit at how well she could craft such covers.
Jean watched her daughter for a moment, her eyes knitting together in a concerned expression. For a few fleeting seconds Hermione thought her cover was blown, it excited her a bit, maybe this morning would be the end.
"Hermione...you have a bruise on your cheek...was it that dream again?"
Her father looked up from the paper one more time, concern masking his face.
"Hermmy you okay?" Although his voice seemed sympathetic the look in his eye was that of control. She had better not mess this up.
"Yeah...it was that nightmare again. I fell out of bed and hit the dresser" She answered back lamely, it seemed to work though. Jean reached a hand across the table gently placing it on her arm.
"Its okay dear...Why don't you talk to Molly about it. Maybe she knows some magical remedies. As for the dresser. Your father and I will reset your room while your gone, maybe pick up a nice throw rug for next to the bed. We don't want our little girl getting hurt." The beautiful woman nodded between her two favorite people, oblivious to the fact that the dresser had caused no harm.
"That sounds good Jean, we can go shopping tomorrow. We'll have it all ready by Christmas, that is if you want to come home to us this year." Robert smiled across the table at his daughter.
That was when it hit her, he was implying she was to come home for the holidays. Before Hermione had a chance to protest the conversation was cut early, a bright flash of light coming from the living room and after a few moments a familiar smiling face walked in.
"Good Morning Jean...Robert...Hermione of course." Mr. Weasley was a handsome man, although balding a bit from stress. Hermione couldn't help but feel anxious when she spotted him, peering behind him to see if Ron had come along. Instead two identical figures came through the doorway. She felt a bit let down, one of her best friends couldn't take the time to come help.
"Robert I noticed that you got a new tele...telly?" Mr. Weasley was struggling for the correct word to use, her father had neatly set the paper to the side. With a large smile he stood up and reached out a hand.
"Television Arthur...but telly works as well." When he talked with others he seemed so kind and light hearted it reminded Hermione of when she was a child, but those days were long gone. Arthur had reached back at the handshake, then just as politely he nodded his head in her mums direction.
"Now you will take good care of her...won't you Arthur?" She replied flashing him one of her best smiles.
"Of course...boys. Jean, Robert, these two are Fred and George. They are my fourth eldest sons. I'm sure Hermione has told you though." He motioned the two forward, they took the hint and both said there hello's.
"Alright there Granger?" It was Fred who had spoken, his shaggy red hair falling in front of his eyes. She had been watching the ordeal silently.
"Yeah...umm...would you care to help me with my trunk?" Standing up from the table she realized just how much the twins had grown over the summer. It wasn't just there height that had changed, they had grown there hair out longer, and quidditch was doing their bodies well. A small blush crept up her neck, and for the first time in her life she hoped the make-up would cover that.
"At your service my lady!" George stepped forward and bowed lavishly, when he realized he was alone he turned back to Fred, who was still watching the young brunette. To him she had changed as well, she was no longer the little eleven year old he had met after the sorting. She was taller and her hair a little bit more wild, she was growing into quite the young lady, but something was wrong with her. He scanned over her face noticing the bruise on her cheek.
"Hermione what...Ouch..." He glared at the cause of his pain, only to meet his brothers eyes, they looked concerned, but not for Granger, for him.
"...oh...yes of course...lead the way to your tower princess!" He to bowed, allowing his questions to fall to the side, and his voice to take on the same joyous manner as George's.
Hermione beamed at both of them her blush growing deeper.
"Why thank you good sirs...follow me." With that she turned on her heels and fled from the room leaving the twins trailing behind.
As they walked George eyed his brother. Wordlessly Fred just shook his head, and shrugged.
They quickly found the room, it wasn't quite what he had pictured for Hermione. There was a small bed in the corner, a dresser next to it piled high with books. Across from her bed was a vanity, pictures of Ron and Harry tacked up on the mirror. Next to that was a bookshelf half emptied. The room was very plain, no color to it at all, and Fred couldn't help but be reminded of prison. The windows had no bars like Harry's but something just didn't seem right. Turning to Hermione he noticed she look embarrassed.
"Sorry...not much is there..."
She pointed at the Trunk sitting in the middle of the cramped room.
"Its all ready to go." She picked up a small crate from the bed explaining as she did "Its for Crookshanks." She seemed almost nervous.
"Gonna miss home Granger?" Fred gave her his trademark smirk while getting ready to lift the trunk with George. He almost missed the answer it was so quiet.
"No." That was all she said, but he could feel the emotion behind it. It was laced with revulsion, and stopped him dead in his tracks.
"Hermione?..." The girl who looked back at him was opposite to the voice he had just heard. She smiled at him beautifully.
"I'm kidding..." He almost believed her, but her body was shaking, and one hand instinctively went to her back pocket.
"Oi Forge...lets get this trunk moved, Mum will be livid if we keep Hermione from her any longer." That seemed to break Fred from his thoughts, he turned his back on the bookworm and helped lift the trunk safely down the stairs and to the fireplace.
Fred never cared much for good-byes, and he expected it to take them much longer to finally escape the Granger household. Hermione had walked over to her mother kissing her on the cheek and hugging her for what seemed like minutes. Fred waited for the same response to her father, she gave him a kiss on the cheek, and nearly walked away before almost forcing herself back to him for a hug. He watched as she smiled at him, seemingly joyous, but something was clearly off, and it was driving him mad.
"I'll write you both. I love you." Hermione's eyes turned mostly to her mother as she said it. She walked to the fireplace picking up Crookshanks as she reached into the bag of Floo powder.
"The Burrow!"
Writers Notes: Hope you guys like Chapter 1 please comment! Can't wait to show you Chapter 2!