The pain was almost unbearable. Hermione lay upstairs on her bed,
uncontrollable sobs raking her body until she was too tired to move. Once
again, her parent's had put her down, making her feel ugly and stupid,
though forgetting to physically harm her.
-Flashback, 30 minutes ago.-
"What, only a ninety percent? You call that a good grade for your sixth year? No, you half wit! That is nothing! Your father and I work very hard to put you into that crackpot school for six years and what do we get? This!" Hermione's mother spat at her, anger flaring up at her daughters 'incompetence'. Her father was not much better, telling her horrible things about her appearance.
"Look at you, slut! Your hair is so messy, so dirty, you're flat as a pancake! You'll be lucky if you can get a blind man to marry you!" Hermione was nearly used to it, though, since her parent's had started fighting between each other. They found only one thing in common; the fact that they both loathed this child that supposedly represented their union as a happy, loving couple.
-End Flashback-
But still the fighting ate away at her, keeping her from 'reaching her potential' as the psychologists would say. For years, six to be exact, she'd done everything she could to please her parents. Straight A's, being on every teacher's good side, (except for Snape, but only the Slytherins were on his good side), making friends with nearly everyone she could. But this was only on the outward appearance, for inside she was not the happy, smart little girl she once was. She was living two lives; the secret life being more painful that she could ever imagine.
Her father's constant taunting about how ugly she was did not make Hermione try to be pretty, in fact, quite the opposite. She began to keep her hair as bushy as possible, always slouching, never smiling with true feeling. She bought skirts too long; shirts too loose; robes plenty oversized. This all served to fuel her parent's displeasure, until one night they could not take it anymore.
This night had been horrid, as Hermione had just bought her dress robes in London with her mother and Ron's parents. Her mother had put on quite a show, pretending to love everything Hermione put on. Inside her eyes, though, Hermione could see the loathing and disgust swirling violently. When they'd left and Hermione was at home, her parents had cornered her in the bedroom. Being smart enough not to leave marks in areas that could not be covered, her parents hit her, venting all their frustrations of the day. This was the first time they'd ever hit Hermione, long ago in her third year, and the beatings had yet to cease.
Her parents hadn't hit her all summer; probably because they were too busy trying to keep their affairs from one another. Each knew the other was cheating, but never bothered to disturb the peace of openly sleeping around.
And so Hermione's summer hadn't been the worst yet, and she was glad it was nearly over. She began to pack her things, a revelation hitting her. 'How can they find me if I'm not in a muggle area? I'll drop my cell phone off somewhere in a park, then catch the Knight Bus to London!' Smiling widely, she jumped into packing, throwing everything into her Hogwarts trunk. Pausing, she picked up a crumpled piece of parchment, re-reading it over carefully.
Dear Miss Hermione Granger,
We are proud to inform you that you have been chosen as Head Girl for your seventh year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please come to the front of the Hogwarts Express and meet with the new Head Boy.
Graciously Yours,
Headmaster Albus Dumbledore
Throwing the letter into her trunk, she began to pack with a furious thirst to get to Hogwarts. 'This year will be different. I'm going to dress as well as I can, and I'm going to be me.' Hermione finished packing, sitting on her trunk to close it. Turning off her light, she dressed in one of her robes and grabbed her wand; this would be the last time she ever saw this room. 'Never again. I will not force myself into these memories, these nightmares. Once I get to London, I am on my own! Oh, shit... I've got no money. Oh well, Dad and Mum have some.'
She giggled, and then quieted. Jumping onto the banister, she slid down the stairs and tiptoed into the kitchen, where her mother's purse and father's wallets lay on the counter. Smiling, she looked into them; her eyes opened wide. 'So much for being poor!' Hermione pulled out two hundred pounds from her mum's wallet and three hundred from her dad's, hoping that she'd be long gone before they awoke to fine their money gone.
She tiptoed up the stairs and into her room, shutting the door silently behind her. Throwing her trunk out of her first floor window, she jumped down onto it herself. Grabbing her neighbor's skateboard, she placed her trunk on it and began to wheel it down the street and to the nearest park. She typed a small message on her phone to her parents, and then dropped it on the ground. Mere moments after sticking her wand out, trees and playthings jumped out of the way as a tall purple bus lurched to a stop in front of her.
"'Ello, there, lass. Where to, London?" Asked the bus driver. Hermione nodded her head and he pointed to the seats behind him. He sent her trunk to her seat, which it slid neatly underneath, and she sat down, sighing. 'Finally, out of hell.'
An hour later the bus stopped outside a small pub in London, most passengers getting off grumpily after being shaken from their sleep.
Hermione stepped off and her truck appeared after her, settling on the ground with a thump. She tapped it with her wand and muttered, "Wingardium Levioso." It floated beside her again with ease as she walked into the nearest motel.
"Hello, sir. May I get a room for two weeks? The cheapest one you've got, please."
"Sure thing. Here for Hogwarts? Most in here are. There's your key, room 101. Free meals from the restaurant downstairs." He nodded his grimy head and she forced a smile. After walking a short distance she opened her door and stepped in, turning the lights of to get a better look of her surroundings. Gasping, she saw her room was done in crimson with gold details. 'I wonder if he knows I'm in Gryffindor.' As if to answer her question, in gold writing the wall read, I change colors to suit my guest. Astonished, she dropped her trunk and opened it, retrieving her ink, quill and parchment.
Sitting at the nearby desk, she began to write a short letter to Harry and Ron, telling them of her address until school began.
Dear Harry, Ron, and family;
I've run away from my home. I'm not living with my parents anymore, I just couldn't take it. If you need to find me, I'm in London and your owls will know where to find me. I'm getting my supplies soon, so I'll just see you on the train.
Love,
Hermione
She folded the letter and laughed out loud; why would she sign 'love' if she didn't love either of them? She took the letter to the front desk, where she paid an owl to take her letter to the Burrow.
After trudging down the hallway sleepily to her room, she plopped down on the bed and fell asleep, still in her clothes.
-Flashback, 30 minutes ago.-
"What, only a ninety percent? You call that a good grade for your sixth year? No, you half wit! That is nothing! Your father and I work very hard to put you into that crackpot school for six years and what do we get? This!" Hermione's mother spat at her, anger flaring up at her daughters 'incompetence'. Her father was not much better, telling her horrible things about her appearance.
"Look at you, slut! Your hair is so messy, so dirty, you're flat as a pancake! You'll be lucky if you can get a blind man to marry you!" Hermione was nearly used to it, though, since her parent's had started fighting between each other. They found only one thing in common; the fact that they both loathed this child that supposedly represented their union as a happy, loving couple.
-End Flashback-
But still the fighting ate away at her, keeping her from 'reaching her potential' as the psychologists would say. For years, six to be exact, she'd done everything she could to please her parents. Straight A's, being on every teacher's good side, (except for Snape, but only the Slytherins were on his good side), making friends with nearly everyone she could. But this was only on the outward appearance, for inside she was not the happy, smart little girl she once was. She was living two lives; the secret life being more painful that she could ever imagine.
Her father's constant taunting about how ugly she was did not make Hermione try to be pretty, in fact, quite the opposite. She began to keep her hair as bushy as possible, always slouching, never smiling with true feeling. She bought skirts too long; shirts too loose; robes plenty oversized. This all served to fuel her parent's displeasure, until one night they could not take it anymore.
This night had been horrid, as Hermione had just bought her dress robes in London with her mother and Ron's parents. Her mother had put on quite a show, pretending to love everything Hermione put on. Inside her eyes, though, Hermione could see the loathing and disgust swirling violently. When they'd left and Hermione was at home, her parents had cornered her in the bedroom. Being smart enough not to leave marks in areas that could not be covered, her parents hit her, venting all their frustrations of the day. This was the first time they'd ever hit Hermione, long ago in her third year, and the beatings had yet to cease.
Her parents hadn't hit her all summer; probably because they were too busy trying to keep their affairs from one another. Each knew the other was cheating, but never bothered to disturb the peace of openly sleeping around.
And so Hermione's summer hadn't been the worst yet, and she was glad it was nearly over. She began to pack her things, a revelation hitting her. 'How can they find me if I'm not in a muggle area? I'll drop my cell phone off somewhere in a park, then catch the Knight Bus to London!' Smiling widely, she jumped into packing, throwing everything into her Hogwarts trunk. Pausing, she picked up a crumpled piece of parchment, re-reading it over carefully.
Dear Miss Hermione Granger,
We are proud to inform you that you have been chosen as Head Girl for your seventh year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please come to the front of the Hogwarts Express and meet with the new Head Boy.
Graciously Yours,
Headmaster Albus Dumbledore
Throwing the letter into her trunk, she began to pack with a furious thirst to get to Hogwarts. 'This year will be different. I'm going to dress as well as I can, and I'm going to be me.' Hermione finished packing, sitting on her trunk to close it. Turning off her light, she dressed in one of her robes and grabbed her wand; this would be the last time she ever saw this room. 'Never again. I will not force myself into these memories, these nightmares. Once I get to London, I am on my own! Oh, shit... I've got no money. Oh well, Dad and Mum have some.'
She giggled, and then quieted. Jumping onto the banister, she slid down the stairs and tiptoed into the kitchen, where her mother's purse and father's wallets lay on the counter. Smiling, she looked into them; her eyes opened wide. 'So much for being poor!' Hermione pulled out two hundred pounds from her mum's wallet and three hundred from her dad's, hoping that she'd be long gone before they awoke to fine their money gone.
She tiptoed up the stairs and into her room, shutting the door silently behind her. Throwing her trunk out of her first floor window, she jumped down onto it herself. Grabbing her neighbor's skateboard, she placed her trunk on it and began to wheel it down the street and to the nearest park. She typed a small message on her phone to her parents, and then dropped it on the ground. Mere moments after sticking her wand out, trees and playthings jumped out of the way as a tall purple bus lurched to a stop in front of her.
"'Ello, there, lass. Where to, London?" Asked the bus driver. Hermione nodded her head and he pointed to the seats behind him. He sent her trunk to her seat, which it slid neatly underneath, and she sat down, sighing. 'Finally, out of hell.'
An hour later the bus stopped outside a small pub in London, most passengers getting off grumpily after being shaken from their sleep.
Hermione stepped off and her truck appeared after her, settling on the ground with a thump. She tapped it with her wand and muttered, "Wingardium Levioso." It floated beside her again with ease as she walked into the nearest motel.
"Hello, sir. May I get a room for two weeks? The cheapest one you've got, please."
"Sure thing. Here for Hogwarts? Most in here are. There's your key, room 101. Free meals from the restaurant downstairs." He nodded his grimy head and she forced a smile. After walking a short distance she opened her door and stepped in, turning the lights of to get a better look of her surroundings. Gasping, she saw her room was done in crimson with gold details. 'I wonder if he knows I'm in Gryffindor.' As if to answer her question, in gold writing the wall read, I change colors to suit my guest. Astonished, she dropped her trunk and opened it, retrieving her ink, quill and parchment.
Sitting at the nearby desk, she began to write a short letter to Harry and Ron, telling them of her address until school began.
Dear Harry, Ron, and family;
I've run away from my home. I'm not living with my parents anymore, I just couldn't take it. If you need to find me, I'm in London and your owls will know where to find me. I'm getting my supplies soon, so I'll just see you on the train.
Love,
Hermione
She folded the letter and laughed out loud; why would she sign 'love' if she didn't love either of them? She took the letter to the front desk, where she paid an owl to take her letter to the Burrow.
After trudging down the hallway sleepily to her room, she plopped down on the bed and fell asleep, still in her clothes.