TITLE: A fear of home

AUTHOR: ARen'T I a ToRtureD SoUL

RATING: Strong R

EMAIL: Ryan_Omira@mail.com

CATEGORY/FANDOM: Harry Potter

CHARACTERS: Hermione, Snape, mentions many others.

SUMMARY: What if home was where the fear was? Where would you go then?

AUTHOR'S NOTES: I don't remember the first names of the Grangers, so I made them up. The timeline is screwy, so bear with me. There is violence in this story, and there maybe a point where non- con is involved. If anyone reads the author's notes, please put the word "cliché" in the review. Just remember that you have been warned.

The owl flew into the sunroof of Hermione's room. The small package hung from its claws, the owl clinging for dear life. Hermione jumped again as she heard her father shooting his gun in the backyard. It was her fourth year at Hogwarts, and Hermione was ready to go back to school. She had not changed much. Her hair was still bushy and knotty, but she had matured somewhat over the summer. She had grown a full three inches, and her hips began to drift apart. Her small chest had managed to become somewhat normal, and her feet didn't look as big with her newly found height. She was still a skinny girl, but at least she looked almost presentable. She began unwrapping the small package when her father burst into her room. She hurriedly threw a treat to her owl, which followed it and flew out of the window. She stuffed the package under her pillow and waited for her father to speak.

"I thought I told you about that damn owl Hermione! If it comes back here, I am going to kill it! What did it bring?"

"N-Nothing Poppa."

John Granger viscously grabbed his daughter's arm and brought her to her feet.

"Don't lie to me!"

"John!"

Mrs. Granger stood at the door, and looked to her husband, then to her daughter.

"Let her go, now."

He let go, almost pushing Hermione onto her back. He pushed past his wife and walked downstairs. Hermione remembered a time when he loved the idea of her being one of the select muggles to attend Hogwarts. He would sit with her over the summer, and read the moving newspaper, or admire the things she collected. Now, he hated the idea of her being a witch. Somehow, she had managed to dirty the family name. People from her small town talked about the mysterious Granger family, and their daughter who attended the "weird" school. Less and less people came down to the Dental office; and more and more, he was angry with her. Well, she had three more weeks before the beginning of the school year. She sat by her door and listened to her parents arguing downstairs.

"Jane, our daughter is a freak, I am sick of that damn owl, and I am sick of that school. She isn't going back!"

"John, it isn't her fault she has friends, the owl is doing its job."

"She isn't going back, and that's final!"

"She is going back, or I am leaving! You can't deny her of her dreams John."

"Fine, but if I see that owl one more time, I am going to stuff it and hang it on my wall."

"Yea, sure, whatever."

^^^ Two weeks later ^^^

Hermione lay awake as she heard the noises of her owl scratching the now sealed sunroof in her room. After a few minutes the noise stopped. She then heard her father screaming, and the light from the corridor brightened her room. John Granger came into view, holding her owl by its legs, and a belt in the other. He forced the animal into the cage and pulled Hermione from her bed. He grabbed her by the scalp, and dragged her down the hall. The bathroom door slammed shut, and Jane Granger ran to it, with fear in her eyes. It was happening again.

^^^ Inside the Bathroom ^^^

The belt stung the bare skin on her back. All that could be heard in the small bathroom as her father grunted while he beat her. The retraction was always the worst. The wait lasted forever, and no matter how long she waited, the pain was more intense than what she imagined it. She knew better than to cry. If she cried, he would beat her harder for being weak. Tears stung her eyes and she tried her best not to cry out, but it escaped her mouth.

"This is what you deserve, who is this Viktor? And why the hell is he writing you love letters?"

Her whimpers went unnoticed until he stopped hitting her. She thought the worst was over, but she was wrong. He lifted her up and slammed her against the wall. He ripped the pajama bottoms from her legs and violently pushed them apart. The belt left welts on the untouched flesh. Her thighs screamed for mercy, as he continued beating her with it. She sat quietly as he finished her punishment. She toned out the pain by listening to her mother screaming and pounding on the bathroom door. He dropped the belt, and unlocked the door, his blistered hands pausing at his sobbing wife. He walked past her, and into his room. John Granger fell asleep without any problems.

Hermione's body was burning. She curled into a ball as her mother collected her clothes, and wrapped her in a towel. She tried to stand her up, but she noticed the bruises forming on her daughter's thighs. She picked up her fragile daughter, and lay down in her bed with her. She rocked her to sleep, whispering little things as to make, her feel better.

^^^ One week later, Platform 9 an ¾ ^^^

Hermione hugged her mother, careful of the still sore bruises that aligned her back. Her father had stayed behind, and for that, she was grateful. She said goodbye to her mother, and walked to the only open compartment. She heard the other children talking and laughing; soon she heard the familiar voices of her best friends, Harry Potter, and Ron Weasly. It wouldn't be bad this year. She hugged her friends, and brightened her face. She was free until Christmas.

A/N: That is all for now, please tell me what you think of my first fanfic. I hope it keeps you entertained. I plan to update by Wednesday. Please Review.