Summary: This is Hermione Granger's story, and it is her true story. Nothing's been altered, and she is not the brains of the Golden Trio. It is not for the mild-hearted, because this story contains child abuse, rape and might even have a slice of suicidal thoughts along with self-harm.
A/N: I know, Hermione might be quite mature for being only ten, almost eleven, but I just somehow find that the story is flowing towards that direction. But otherwise, I really do not have a clue as to where this story will take us. It will be a romance later on, but right now it is too early for that I think.
Also, this story is majorly AU, as I have changed quite a few things. Either you notice them, or you don't.
I am sorry if this story is not to your satisfaction, or that I may not get things right, like for an example the emotions Hermione is feeling and such. But I try, and I hope you can help me become a better writer.
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Prologue – When it all changed
When you become ten years old, it is something to celebrate right? For it then when you get two numbers in your age, and suddenly, you feel so much older than when you were nine. You might think that you know everything there is to know, even though you haven't got a single clue.
That is the picture I have gotten from my friends, or rather, from my classmates. I wouldn't consider them friends because I do not talk to them, and they tease me relentlessly about my buck-teeth, bushy hair and "abnormal" abilities.
You see, when I became ten, I got a letter from a prestigious school. A special school for the gifted or as my father would say a school for freaks.
Maybe I should go back to the date that changed everything. 19th September 1990. Quite a chilly day, but the sun was shining although not as brightly as it normally would, covered almost completely by a thin veil of grey clouds.
I was sitting by the breakfast table, eating happy-pancakes. Mum always makes me those when it is my birthday. So it was with gusto that I chewed those pancake, washing them down with a glass of milk. It was a happy morning until my father stormed in through the door, his hair windswept and his clothes ruffled with a few feathers sticking out from odd places. I had the urge to giggle, but it was immediately quenched by the murderous expression that marred his face, the lines of his face even deeper than ever before.
"Do you know what I found, when I went outside to mown the grass?" He gripped one of the chairs so tightly his knuckles turned white, breathing slowly as if to calm himself down. "What do I not find, if not a bloody owl perched on top of my newly washed car?" Spit flew from his mouth and landed on the table, some of it still hanging on the thick moustache above his upper-lip.
"If that was not enough, it was delivering a letter. An owl delivering a bloody letter! Which time era do we live in?" My father glared at the letter, before he turned his eyes to me, the normally gentle and brown eyes now cold and... Was that disgust?
"This is for you." He said, throwing the letter at me before storming out of the house, slamming the door after him. I watched the letter flutter to the floor, watching the slightly yellowed and thick-looking paper that the envelope was made of.
Hermione J. Granger
6 Oakwood Rd.
West Bromwich
Sandwell
I gingerly picked up the letter, touching it as if it would explode in my face any moment. Something inside me yearned to rip the letter open; yet another part of me was hesitant, knowing that if I were to open it, nothing would ever be the same.
"Open it." My mother seemed more excited than I was, her cheeks glowing bright and eyes shining blue. Her short curly hair was tucked behind her ears as she leaned forward, easily plucking the letter from my grasp. "If you won't do it, then I'll do it for you."
And she eagerly tore through the opening with her nail and a bunch of weird looking papers fell out from it, scattered all over the polished surface of the table. My curiosity got the best of me, and I picked up the first letter, at first only skimming through the text, but the more times I read it, the slower I got.
HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)
Dear Miss Granger,
We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipments.
Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
P.S Someone will come when it is time for you to start Hogwarts to take you to Diagon Alley for all of your necessities and teach you more about the magical world.
"Mum... Is this some kind of sick joke?" I asked, wanting desperately to believe that wizards and witches existed, but still feeling cautious. "I am a witch?"
"Oh, Hermione, I am so proud of you my daughter." My mother hugged me tightly to her chest, silent tears falling down her face and onto my hair. "I always knew you were special."
I smiled against the fabric of her cardigan, my hands fisted against the wool. "But what about dad?" My voice quivered, and I hated how weak I sounded at that moment.
"What of him?" She laughed, but through her faked mirth I could sense the fear and I could feel her sobs shake her body. I hugged her more closely, trying to offer her the little comfort that I could.
"You are nothing but a freak."
My eyes snapped open and I stiffened as my father's words penetrated through the happy bubble that the letter had created, and I fell back down to reality from the high. Tears started to form in my eyes, but I blinked them away, discreetly wiping my face with my hand.
"How can you say that to your own daughter, your own flesh and blood?" I was pushed away from mother, and I stood in the corner of the kitchen, watching in horror as my parents started to lash out on each other, screaming at the top of their lungs to be able to compete with the other. And I couldn't help but feel it was my entire fault, because if it weren't for me, that letter never would've come here.
I let my body slump down on the floor, covering my ears with my hands as I shut my eyes and started humming a song to myself, trying to get them to shut up. But no matter what sound I made, even when I was screaming they didn't bother to look at me.
Tears were streaking my face and I visibly winced when a resounding slap echoed in the room.
'Please, please let him go away. Please give me my dad back. This is not my dad, it is not!'
Footsteps echoed in the hallway and up the stairs, and a door closed with a loud bang. I hiccupped as I tried to keep in the sobs that bubbled over, spilling out of my mouth like a waterfall.
"Sh... It's okay. Everything will be okay."
A/N: Rate and review!
I have already written two more chapters and I'm writing on the third.