A/N: This is my third fic in progress, my second HP. I've been going crazy with this story line in my head and reading other people's has inspired me to write mine! Woo Hoo!!!! lol So here we go. Please tell me what you think so I'll know if I should keep going.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter. You know how it goes.

Chapter 1:

Hermione watched from under her bed at the feet pacing back and forth across her floor. She tried to control her breathing so that she wouldn't be heard, but was afraid she was failing. She watched as the pair of ugly work boots kicked the chair to her desk and stomp back out the door.

She waited to make sure he was gone before she slowly crawled out from her hiding place. Her legs were aching from his latest wave of anger.

If only she could use magic. If only she had an owl of her own. She was tired of if only. She curled into a little ball in the center of her bed and drifted off to sleep, only to wake up shortly after in a cold sweat, the cause of the same nightmare she's had since he moved in with them.

She stood up, deciding that if she could just get out of the house she was sure she could ride the Night Bus to Diagon Alley. From there she was sure she could get to the Burrow.

Her first thought was to pack her trunk, but realized it was to big to carry without the use of magic, so she settled with stuffing as many clothes as she could into a shoulder bag.

Standing at the first landing of the stair case, she waited until she could hear the loud laughter filtering in from the living room died down. Usually on the weekends, he stayed downstairs and fell asleep. She crept down the stairs, avoiding every creak and every groan of the wooden stairs. There was one particular step which she knew she couldn't avoid and silently begged that the loudness of the straining grain wouldn't wake the sleeping man in the living room.

When she finally made it to the door, she let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. She could smell the cool night air. But just when she was about to take her first step towards freedom, the door was violently slammed shut.

Hermione jumped and looked directly into the face of the person she was trying to avoid. His fierce eyes told her she was in serious trouble.

"Where are you going?" he sneered at her.

"I, I…I was just…" she stuttered. She couldn't seem to find words while he glared at her.

"You were just going to what, Hermione? Leave?" He laughed at the idea. "But then I'd have no one to bring me things or make me lunch? Who will I have to make me money?"

"Please." It was not more than a whisper.

"Go back to your room, you good for nothing rat." He spat the last word and threw her towards the stairs. She ran to the top before he could grab her again.

She made sure not to slam the door and fell into the mattress of her bed, sobbing. But she wasn't there for very long before the door slammed open. Hermione jumped and fell onto the floor.

"Don't you hide from me!" he roared. He stomped to where the girl lay shaking and pulled her violently to her feet. "Don't you ever hide from me."

Pain shot up her spine as he threw her into the wall across from her bed. She slumped to the floor, hoping that he would just leave. But he didn't. He came at her again, this time with a closed fist, leaving her lip busted and her nose bleeding.

"Please," she whispered again. "Please stop."

Her cries only made him laugh as he pulled her to her feet again. "Don't worry Hermione, I still need you."

The edge in his voice sent chills down her spine. She knew what he meant and hated it with every fiber of her being.

"You're nothing, little girl, nothing but a freak." He laughed again, as if it were all some funny game. "There will be no dinner for you tonight; you've been a very bad girl."

And with that he grabbed a fistful of her hair and slammed her forehead into the nightstand next to her bed, causing black spots to blur her vision and blood to roll down her cheek.

She wasn't sure how long she lay on the ground where he left her. But soon she heard a loud tapping noise off in the distance, as if there was something sharp hitting her window. She looked up through groggy eyes from the floor. There was a white blur on the outside of her window, pecking madly at the glass.

Slowly, Hermione inched towards the window. When she finally got there, it took all of her dwindling strength to pull herself up enough to push the glass open. She collapsed to the floor again and the white bird fluttered into the room and landed next to her, hooting softly.

"Hedwig," she whispered. The snowy owl chirped in response and stuck out its leg to her. There was a letter attached to it with her name scrawled across the front. She tried to undo the tight little string, but her fingers failed her. She sighed, exhausted, as she looked at the now bloodied envelope. She could barely move, much less read a letter.

"Go, Hedwig, go back to Harry," she whispered. Silently she prayed that Harry would see the blood and realize she needed help. As the white owl soared back through the window, she let the darkness she'd been fighting take her over.

Fin. Reviews are like thank you cards; everyone loves getting them, but some people are just too inconsiderate to write them. [