Disclaimer: I don't own anything or anyone.
Summary: On the night Voldermort attacked the Potters something went wrong. Sixteen years later the world is a very different place with Voldermort in charge. Hermoine's future seems hopeless filled with pain and suffering, will things ever change?
Authors note: I'm so sorry this has taken so long to update but I'm on holiday now so I will be able to update this more often can you please review this once you've read it.
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Dear Diary,
I woke up this morning convinced I could smell my mother cooking breakfast, I could smell the bacon sizzling gently in the frying pan, the smell of toast filling the kitchen air. For a minute I was five again back home in my own bed comfy, safe in the knowledge that my parents were only downstairs and that nothing could harm me ever again, for those few seconds I was happy. I tried to hold onto the image as the room around me finally started to come into focus again as the sounds from the other people started to bring me back to reality, my life, my hell.
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I hastily prized the loose brick out of the wall and stuffed the tatty, torn pieces of paper back into the hole behind it listening as the whistling and scraping noises from outside drew nearer to my door. Someone was coming I couldn't risk them finding my diary, my refuge, my solace, my one piece of peace that I could find in this place. Who was it coming down the corridor towards my door, would they walk past or would they open it, both thoughts scared me. If they walked past I'd be left in this dark, dank cell all alone for another day with no food and just the noise of my stomach rumbling telling me that I'm still alive, I'm still here. If they opened it though it could be him coming for me again coming to torture me, why he picked me I don't know but he did. Ever since he picked me at five years old when I first came here I've always been his toy to do what ever he wanted to. If I cried out or refused he'd have me punished and would sit there and watch while I screamed and cried out in pain, I was only a child I never understood why this was happening to me and how he could sit there and laugh, I hated him. As I got older I stopped refusing I became docile, a shadow no matter what he did to me or what he wanted me to do I would never give him the satisfaction of seeing my fear and pain. I became nothing but a toy I couldn't feel anything anymore I'd sit and watch from a distance while he did things to me if I wasn't there I couldn't feel it. This is the only way I could cope with my life maybe that was wrong of me but if I could no longer feel anything when he was there he could no longer hurt me. He found out though he found out everything and used his magic to stop me from turning off my feelings and escaping. His visits are filled with a lot more pain and fear now I can no longer escape. I'll never give him the satisfaction of hearing me scream or cry or beg for mercy again though no matter how much he hurts me, that much I can promise myself I'd much rather die than give him the satisfaction of that. The smile and laughter that formed on his lips as I screamed and cried out as a child still haunt me, never again I've promised myself I'll never see that again. Please don't be him, I beg silently looking around the room for somewhere to hide it doesn't help though he always found me before, I know it's useless to hide. As the footsteps draw ever nearer I find myself silently pleading as my fear heightens:
"Not today," I plead wordlessly "please not today I'm not strong enough".
As I hear the key turn in the lock I feel myself start to tense up and the hairs on the back of my neck start to stand up. I cry out silently as I realise it's him who's opening the door my pleadings were useless no one heard me he came anyway. I stand rigidly in the middle of the room as the door slowly opens and I look at the face of the person I've come to hate; he stares back at me his lip curled up in disdain.
"Well, well, well you're up and waiting for me that's such a shame I wanted to surprise you when you were asleep," he laughs softly at the look of horror on my face at his words "well never mind there's always next time isn't there mudblood. At least we can start the fun early CRUTIO".
I fell to the floor then as he started to laugh pain was slicing through every part of my body from the tips of my toes to the hair on my head, I swallowed the screams rising in my throat. Then blackness started to wash over me I was so thankful for it even though I knew he was going to pull me out of it any minute and the last thing I felt before the blackness engulfed me was being bodily thrown across the room.