The Hunger
Chapter 3: Mistakes
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter's world, or his firends or anything, except this story plot, and all original character.
It was five-thirty in the morning when Hermione shut off her blaring alarm. Not that she even needed the blasted the thing, sleeping was not an option when you had late night encounters with dangerous men. Sliding up out of the warm cave of down comforters, she ran a shaky hand through crumpled disastrous burgundy curls. 'That is the last time I dye my hair with PERMENANT dye, the shit destroyed it' Hermione viciously thought as she tried to force the jungle on her head into a clasp.
Swinging stick thin legs out of the deep purple sea of duvets, Hermione eased onto shaky feet. Head swimming, and black dots doing the polka in her eyes, she leaned against the wall, waiting for the spinning to stop. 'Dammit! Don't you dare fall down! Not again, not this morning, FUCK YOU BODY!' Hermione screamed mentally, as her knees began to buckle. As the minutes ticked by, the shaking stopped, the floor leveled and Hermione was able to finally walk. Heading to the one bathroom in the whole house, Hermione shrugged on an ancient and loved black fuzzy house coat. It was ten sizes to big, but Hermione's favorite item of clothing. No one was up yet, this was Hermione's favorite time of the day, when no one bothered her, and the world was at peace.
Once in the egg yolk painted bathroom, Hermione shut and locked the pristine cream colored door; spinning around she stalked past the Romanesque tub and matching sink, past the ivory throne and up to the large clear window. Whipping up the blinds, she oh-so-carefully eased it open, and when the hole was just large enough for a two year old, she slid through, and out onto the roof. Carefully, hands balanced, Hermione walked up the roof, and onto the ledge that the window created. Once there, she settled herself into al ball of warm black fuzziness, reached deep into the pocket of the massive coat, and pulled out her pack or cigarettes. Lighting one, she settled back on the roof, watching the sun come up. Soon, with smoke curling far above her, Hermione began to think, once again about that party, and the stupid mistakes she made.
Hermione spent all day getting ready for the party. Naturally she couldn't ask her parents, so everything was done in secrecy. After getting off the phone with Johnny that night, Hermione had tried on every single article of clothing she possessed. Finally, after a few frustrating hours, Hermione chose an outfit. Thinking of Johnny, Hermione choose a grunge/hardcore combination. The day of the party, Hermione spent two hours dying her hair a deep red. She repainted a garish blood color on her fingers, and then, before dinner, practiced in the mirror applying smoky dark eyeliner. That night, after an agonizing dinner, which she didn't really eat, Hermione said goodnight to her parents, lied and repeatedly told them that she was just a little over tired, that no, she wasn't going for a run tonight, and that dinner was in fact delicious and she did eat enough. 'They never leave me the fuck alone' angry Hermione viciously spat at them in her head as she trudged up the creaky staircase.
Entering her childhood room, she maliciously kicked a patched and worn teddy bear. 'God I NEED a new room, I'm not fucking SIX!' screamed Hermione. Storming around, she began to finally calm down she saw her outfit leaning on her chair, as if it was saying 'come dancing in me'. Hermione sighed and grabbed it off the chair, it was only 8 o'clock but Hermione wanted plenty of time. Smiling she locked the door of the bathroom, and had a cigarette, before taking the longest shower possible. When she finally left the shower the room smelt strongly of lavender, and was a sauna. As Hermione got ready, she got even more excited. Finally, at 10:45, she was finished and taking one last drawn out look in the mirror. Hermione had straightened her hair, so the long red locks were stick straight, and hanging somewhere near her ass. She had taken, and applied deep smoky grays and purples to her hazel eyes, then followed by a thin line of deep black velvet eyeliner. This was coupled by a dark burgundy lipstick, and faint pale cheeks. Hermione's outfit was something that would never been seen at Hogwarts, except by a very few choice Slytherins; she wore a vibrant cherry lace bra, visible through the fishnet ripped long sleeve shirt. To barely cover herself, Hermione was also bringing a cardigan that was reminiscent of Nirvana and Pearl Jam. She contrasted the top with a pair of ripped cameo pants, exactly like Johnny's the night before, although shorter, fishnet stockings, and ankle combat boots. She wore it best with her bullet belts, her giant sink-drain necklace, and a studded collar, as well as eight pirate rings. Hermione gazed for a long moment in her dusty floor length mirror, where all she could see was visible fat rolls inching her stomach, she covered it with both arms, then shaking her head, she turned to read the ancient digital clock Before she even had time to read the bright green digital numbers, Hermione heard rocks on the glass pane. Quickly she ran over to the window, where she saw the dark silhouette of Johnny waving at her. Without a single glance back to the darkened room of her childhood, Hermione had both feet up and out the window and down to the street, where the nights fun would begin.
A/N: And so here is chapter 3. Something I almost thought would never make it.
I know this is really quite long and drawn out, but its all for a good cause, and I promise it is a DracHermione, and rated M for a reason.