The Truth is Always Hidden Inside the Lies
Authors note- This is an idea I got for no real reason, and I doubt any one will lie it but here we go. I will appreciate any review given to me, flames or not. please do
enjoy- Bri
Disclaimer- I do not own Harry Potter
I have always been a bit out of touch with reality. When I was little I would talk to my reflection. I had a million imaginary friends and my shadow was my
closest. I confided all my thoughts into the air in hope that maybe an angel would hear and come to help me, but I have long given up that hope. My parents died when
I was three, and I grew up on the streets under the care of my older brother. He was so strong and I admired him so, but he died the day I turned eleven, and was
accepted into Howarts School of Witchcraft and Wisardry.
It is a bit shameful for me to admit that I paid for my supplies with stolen money, but it wasnt much I stole, and it was from someone who it probably didnt
matter to. Once I got there I, of course, lied to everyone. I told them that my parents were rich dentists who took me eveywhere during the holidays. No one ever
doubted what I said, and I remained dignified. Once I got to the school I taught myself everything I could. Not only was I muggleborn, but I had no money of my own
and so I strived to prove myself to people who couldnt care less. I suppose it was my know-it-all attitude that made everyone hate me. I realized a bit to late that in
all the hurry of trying to prove myself to everyone else, I was making them feel stupid.
I will admit I was a bit suprised when Harry and Ron befriended me. It was just earlier that day they were complaining about how annoying I was but they
didnt know me,and they still don't. Even now, at our seventh year, they still belive all my lies about my family, still belive I am perfect, innocent, Hermione. I wonder
how they would react to the news that I paid for my dressrobes by sleeping with a few guys. Innocent my ass. So here I am, boarding the Hogwarts express for my
last year. Head girl, top student, and closet prostitute. What a year this should be.
"It does not do well to dwell on dreams, and forget to live"
- Albus Dumbledore
The Truth is Always Hidden Inside the Lies
Chapter One
Welcome to Hell
"Hermione!" A voice behind me yells and I turn planting my most real looking smile on my face. Harry Potter comes up to me and envelopes me in a tight
hug. Of course he doesnt notice that my smile is fake, no one ever does. A voice in the back of my head screams that my name is NOT Hermione, but I changed it to
this before I came here, it wouldnt do to have anyone know who I really am. My parents were rather famous in the muggle world, geniuses, sad as it was that we had
to run when they died, because someone was out to kill them, but enough dwelling on the past, Ron is coming.
" How have you two been?" I listin carfully to my voice. Years of pretending makes it rather easy to act happy, and I am proud to say I have everyone
fooled. Ron and Harry begin to babble on about such and such that I don't pay attention to. They can certainly be boring sometimes, but I suppose I do not give them
a chance. It doesn't matter anyway, I dont feel like being nice today anyway, so I ignore them the entire trip. They do not notice anyway. It is immposible sometimes
to understand why they are my best friends, why they evn talk to me at all. I know I am anoying, and I am sure they've noticed my mood swings from hell that I
consintally have. Is it because they feel sorry for me? Is it because I am just a running joke they have? Look it that geek Hermione, she actually thinks we like her, what
and idiot. I shake my head to clear that thought, I am so paranoid.
The scenery outside the train is sadly familiar to me. I know every detail of the feilds and towns we pass, as I have nothing better to do while on this train.
Harry and Ron are going on about Quidditch again, the gits. Can't they find something remotly intelligent to talk about? I suppose not, as they still cant think for
themselves. I dont know how long I sat there, musing on everthing and anything, before I came upon an amusing thought. In first year I remeber saying such as being
expelled would be worse than being killed, and how they must have misinterpreted that. I meant it because if I were expelled I would have no where to go at all, for
even longer than just the holidays. They must have supposed that I would just die if I lost my chance to be better than eveyone. Another thought occured to me, Harry
was increasingly sure that our oh-so graet headmast knew everything, and yet he has done nothing to try and help me. Not that I would accept it anyway. I am much to
dignified for that, even if I will resort to sleeping with someone to pay for my school supplies. That doesnt matter now, as soon I will graduated and be able to get a
paying job that will make me rich. And I will live in a house, with a husband and children with a white picket fence. How cliche my dreams are. And how unreal.
I will probably be kicked out of school two weeks before graduation when everyone finds out who I am, and end up some two-cent whore lying dead on
a street corner two years later. Did I mention i was manic depressive as well? I guess not. The train is beginning to slow down and the boys quickly leave the
compartment so I can change. Not that it matters if they were there, I been seen by worse. But I shouldnt be thinking of things like that, while I am here I am innocent
little Granger. I leave the compartment so the boys can change and stand in the hall silently. A million conversations leak out and I snort mirthlessly, if anyone were to
speak of something privet here, it would be sure not to remain so.
Once we get off the train I feel rather impatient. I havnt slept in a real bed all summer nor have I had a real meal and I am starving. It's rather funny that I
have a rather large sum of money with me this year, and all of it 'earned'. My christmas presents I send to myself every year from my 'parents' should be rather
extravegant. We board one of the carrages. I am so tired of this live, maybe I should go to the Astronamy tower tonight and end it all. With that thought, I enter the
Great Hall.
She's taking her time making up the reasons
To justify all the hurt inside
Guess she knows from the smiles
and the look in their eyes
Everyone's got a theory about the bitter one
They're saying, "Mamma never loved her much"
And, "Daddy never keeps in touch
That's why she shies away from
human affection"
But somewhere in a private place
She packs her bags for outer space
And now she's waiting for the right kind of pilot to come
And she'll say to him
-Savage Garden, To the Moon and Back
Authors note- This is an idea I got for no real reason, and I doubt any one will lie it but here we go. I will appreciate any review given to me, flames or not. please do
enjoy- Bri
Disclaimer- I do not own Harry Potter
I have always been a bit out of touch with reality. When I was little I would talk to my reflection. I had a million imaginary friends and my shadow was my
closest. I confided all my thoughts into the air in hope that maybe an angel would hear and come to help me, but I have long given up that hope. My parents died when
I was three, and I grew up on the streets under the care of my older brother. He was so strong and I admired him so, but he died the day I turned eleven, and was
accepted into Howarts School of Witchcraft and Wisardry.
It is a bit shameful for me to admit that I paid for my supplies with stolen money, but it wasnt much I stole, and it was from someone who it probably didnt
matter to. Once I got there I, of course, lied to everyone. I told them that my parents were rich dentists who took me eveywhere during the holidays. No one ever
doubted what I said, and I remained dignified. Once I got to the school I taught myself everything I could. Not only was I muggleborn, but I had no money of my own
and so I strived to prove myself to people who couldnt care less. I suppose it was my know-it-all attitude that made everyone hate me. I realized a bit to late that in
all the hurry of trying to prove myself to everyone else, I was making them feel stupid.
I will admit I was a bit suprised when Harry and Ron befriended me. It was just earlier that day they were complaining about how annoying I was but they
didnt know me,and they still don't. Even now, at our seventh year, they still belive all my lies about my family, still belive I am perfect, innocent, Hermione. I wonder
how they would react to the news that I paid for my dressrobes by sleeping with a few guys. Innocent my ass. So here I am, boarding the Hogwarts express for my
last year. Head girl, top student, and closet prostitute. What a year this should be.
"It does not do well to dwell on dreams, and forget to live"
- Albus Dumbledore
The Truth is Always Hidden Inside the Lies
Chapter One
Welcome to Hell
"Hermione!" A voice behind me yells and I turn planting my most real looking smile on my face. Harry Potter comes up to me and envelopes me in a tight
hug. Of course he doesnt notice that my smile is fake, no one ever does. A voice in the back of my head screams that my name is NOT Hermione, but I changed it to
this before I came here, it wouldnt do to have anyone know who I really am. My parents were rather famous in the muggle world, geniuses, sad as it was that we had
to run when they died, because someone was out to kill them, but enough dwelling on the past, Ron is coming.
" How have you two been?" I listin carfully to my voice. Years of pretending makes it rather easy to act happy, and I am proud to say I have everyone
fooled. Ron and Harry begin to babble on about such and such that I don't pay attention to. They can certainly be boring sometimes, but I suppose I do not give them
a chance. It doesn't matter anyway, I dont feel like being nice today anyway, so I ignore them the entire trip. They do not notice anyway. It is immposible sometimes
to understand why they are my best friends, why they evn talk to me at all. I know I am anoying, and I am sure they've noticed my mood swings from hell that I
consintally have. Is it because they feel sorry for me? Is it because I am just a running joke they have? Look it that geek Hermione, she actually thinks we like her, what
and idiot. I shake my head to clear that thought, I am so paranoid.
The scenery outside the train is sadly familiar to me. I know every detail of the feilds and towns we pass, as I have nothing better to do while on this train.
Harry and Ron are going on about Quidditch again, the gits. Can't they find something remotly intelligent to talk about? I suppose not, as they still cant think for
themselves. I dont know how long I sat there, musing on everthing and anything, before I came upon an amusing thought. In first year I remeber saying such as being
expelled would be worse than being killed, and how they must have misinterpreted that. I meant it because if I were expelled I would have no where to go at all, for
even longer than just the holidays. They must have supposed that I would just die if I lost my chance to be better than eveyone. Another thought occured to me, Harry
was increasingly sure that our oh-so graet headmast knew everything, and yet he has done nothing to try and help me. Not that I would accept it anyway. I am much to
dignified for that, even if I will resort to sleeping with someone to pay for my school supplies. That doesnt matter now, as soon I will graduated and be able to get a
paying job that will make me rich. And I will live in a house, with a husband and children with a white picket fence. How cliche my dreams are. And how unreal.
I will probably be kicked out of school two weeks before graduation when everyone finds out who I am, and end up some two-cent whore lying dead on
a street corner two years later. Did I mention i was manic depressive as well? I guess not. The train is beginning to slow down and the boys quickly leave the
compartment so I can change. Not that it matters if they were there, I been seen by worse. But I shouldnt be thinking of things like that, while I am here I am innocent
little Granger. I leave the compartment so the boys can change and stand in the hall silently. A million conversations leak out and I snort mirthlessly, if anyone were to
speak of something privet here, it would be sure not to remain so.
Once we get off the train I feel rather impatient. I havnt slept in a real bed all summer nor have I had a real meal and I am starving. It's rather funny that I
have a rather large sum of money with me this year, and all of it 'earned'. My christmas presents I send to myself every year from my 'parents' should be rather
extravegant. We board one of the carrages. I am so tired of this live, maybe I should go to the Astronamy tower tonight and end it all. With that thought, I enter the
Great Hall.
She's taking her time making up the reasons
To justify all the hurt inside
Guess she knows from the smiles
and the look in their eyes
Everyone's got a theory about the bitter one
They're saying, "Mamma never loved her much"
And, "Daddy never keeps in touch
That's why she shies away from
human affection"
But somewhere in a private place
She packs her bags for outer space
And now she's waiting for the right kind of pilot to come
And she'll say to him
-Savage Garden, To the Moon and Back