Warning: This chapter contains sexual references and may not be suitable for younger readers.

…Previous Chapter…

But she couldn't run from her memories. She could live the lie, but memories live on. She could keep herself behind her excellently sculptured wall of emotion, but that just trapped her pain. She had to let it go. She couldn't loose her memories. She couldn't forget. That's why they are there. They never leave us. "Memories are here for us to hold"

Excuses

After that night, nothing much else happened. Her father ignored her as much as possible and Hermione stayed in her room whenever she could. It was summer so she never had to leave her house, or her room. For the first few days she didn't even leave her room for meals, in fear he would repeat his terrible acts. She said she wasn't hungry and she guessed her mother took it as loss of appetite for random reasons. She constantly cut herself, but realised she would have to stop if she wanted to keep up her lie. She started getting ready for Hogwarts. She was going to change her life totally. She would make great friends, she would succeed where she could and try her best at everything. She'd fit in.

This also gave her the excuse not to see her father. She'd somehow send letters to her mum or talk to her over the phone but she never had to see her dad. At Christmas she would have to come back, and Easter, but at least that was only two weeks or so. And at summer... well she'd think about that when it came, and she would be a witch by that time, so she could protect herself.

Hermione knew little about Hogwarts, or witches. She only knew about what she had read. She knew the basics of Hogwarts and had seen pictures, but she didn't know the teachers or what it would be like there. Did witches and wizards even use telephones? She knew that nothing electrical could be used inside Hogwarts... but maybe there was a telephone box outside. 'No, I doubt it.' If so there must be a post person… right?

Hermione read some more… she read all the time. She must be reading at least 10 hours a day. She re-read her acceptance letter at least thrice a day. 'You may bring a cat or… blah blah and an owl'… an owl? She re-read something she had read in Hogwarts, A History.

"For thousands of years witches and wizards have used Owls as their means of communication"… 'what do they do? Fly around delivering letters?'

'How ironic' thought Hermione as she read on. "Owls are used to send letters and packages from the sender to the recipient. An owl is well navigated by nature and knows where almost every house is…" 'Wow'.

It was the morning before she would be going to London to get onto the Hogwarts express. Hermione was getting ready; she was fully packed and was just scratching up on her knowledge of the Magical World. She had previously been to Diagon Alley to get all her schoolbooks and Hogwarts robes. She had met many Wizards, witches and Hogwarts students. It was such an amazing place. She had never been so excited to be going somewhere in her life. She knew the 7 years she would be at Hogwarts would be the best she'd ever have before she had even left.

She was in anticipation. She didn't know what to expect. She knew that students were split into houses. She hoped to be in Gryffindor, it seemed it suited her best. They were known to be brave, and after what Hermione had been through she felt she deserved that name. They were also known as loyal, and Hermione felt she was loyal, especially to her mother after not breaking her heart by telling her the truth. She also knew that first impressions counted for the most. She would make herself look good. She would look smart and look good. She would look her best. She would fit in.

She woke up early in Saturday morning. Her mother and father took her to London where she bought her ticket and went through to platform 9 3/4. She kissed and hugged her mother then hesitantly hugged her father, as too not look too suspicious. He flinched but hugged her back lightly. She walked off to the train with her luggage and waved as she got on the train. She put her luggage in the luggage trunk and walked down the train until she saw some friendly looking people. She walked in and smiled at the people looking back at her. Her heart started racing when they said nothing.

"Er… can I sit here?" she said with a slight fearful, hesitant tone.

"Ye-yeah" said a boy sat by the window. He was quite chubby and looked … dumb. He was holding a toad, which confused Hermione.

"My name is Hermione Granger," she said sitting down.

"I'm Neville, Neville Longbottom," said the chubby looking boy.

"Hi, I'm Seamus Finnegan. Its nice to meet you" said a small boy, in an Irish accent.

Hermione smiled "It's nice to meet you too!" she replied.

"And I'm Dean Thomas" said a coloured boy sat next to Neville. He looked mockingly at the other two and then said, "So, do you know much about Hogwarts?"

"Well not really, but I've read a lot about it..." trailed Hermione, wanting to share her knowledge of Hogwarts. By the time she had finished she had scared Neville, Dean and Seamus, but felt very good for finally getting it off her chest. She had explained basically everything she knew, including about the houses, the sorting and the subjects. It was the thought of Hogwarts and the sorting that shocked the boys.

"I'm just looking forward to seeing Harry Potter, you know he's coming to Hogwarts this year!!??" said Seamus. Seeing the face of Hermione he laughed and said, "you do know who he is right?"

"Yeah, he's the boy who defeated Lord... He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named... right? His scar is legendary!! I can't believe it!!" said Hermione. She couldn't be happier. Not only had she actually made friends, but she was about to meet the first Wizard-Celebrity she had read about!!

As she was contemplating how she was feeling, someone gave a loud yell and Hermione broke out of the trance she had been in. Neville was looking for something and Dean and Seamus were looking shocked.

"What!?" yelled Hermione

"Neville's toad just… jumped somewhere!" shouted Dean in a confused tone

"Oh my gosh! Where is he?" shouted Neville with a note of panic.

"It's OK we'll help you find him," said Hermione smiling. Neville smiled back.

"Thanks" he said.

So they searched for the toad. Hermione didn't find the toad but she did find Harry Potter. He was in a compartment with a boy named Ron Weasley. He had flaming red hair and a vacant expression that made Hermione laugh. Harry was also particularly noticeably looking. He had ruffled hair that didn't lay smooth, and a rather cute face. His scar shone brightly, even though it was 10 years old. She introduced herself, naturally, and they were very nice… though Ron seemed slightly… edgy.

Her Perfect Façade was in act…

Over the next 5 years, Hermione's life changed in many ways. Her father continued to beat her but she was stronger than him and she knew how to heal her wounds. Though they didn't heal fully, it was better than them being there for longer, a longer memory of him. Her best friends were Harry and Ron, she was the smartest girl in school and she had loads of friends. Their (RonHermioneHarry) relationship was strong, too strong sometimes. She cared too much for them and vice versa. Harry and Ron and Hermione were bestest friends and they were known well for it. The only time they had had a big fall out was in third year when Ron was mad at Hermione for her cat trying to attack his rat. This was a miserable time for Hermione. She cut herself, but only a few times when they pain hit her. She was alone again. But that didn't last. They all apologised and have been friends since. In fact the only people that really hated her were all the slytherins, Draco Malfoy in particular. He was a cocky git that hated her because she was Muggle-Born. He had white-blonde hair and a pointed face. He was taller than her now but that didn't mean he was stronger. Hermione knew more spells than him, she was smarter than him and he knew it. Sometimes she thought that maybe that was really why he hated her so much, because she was such a brain and he could never live up to what she was. 'Hermione, your head is going to explode in a minute' she thought to herself, trying to hide a grin.

It was the summer after the fifth year. She was glad that she finally had time to relax. It had been such an eventful year. Harry started to get dreams, which came true. He was lucky enough to save Mr Weasley, Ron's father from being killed by Voldermort. Unfortunately, Voldermort found out that he and Harry were connected in some magical way, and sent Harry a dream. A dream that ended up killing Sirius, Harry's godfather and only living loving relative. Along with that, Hermione, Ron, Ginny and Neville got seriously injured. Hermione nearly got killed by an 'unidentified' curse. She still hadn't found out what hit her. Ron nearly got strangled by a heard of brains after being hit with a curse that imitated a muggle feeling of being drunk. She hoped he was OK after the brains. Ginny broke her ankle, and Neville got kicked in the face and broke his nose. All in all it was a very eventful time in the Ministry. That was where it happened. The Ministry. 'Of all places'. The place that is protected by good magic, and Voldermort's Death Eaters managed to get in and trick Harry and his friends into coming. Hermione felt a pang of guilt… she wondered how Harry felt.

All for a stupid Prophecy that had smashed. She didn't know what it said but it must have been something important for Voldermort to want it so badly. She wondered if Harry had ever found out about what it had said. Maybe Dumbledore told him. 'No, Harry would have said something'.

All she knew was that, as far as Harry had told him, he couldn't leave the Dursley's this year. He was protected by his Aunt's blood and it wasn't safe for him to leave when Voldermort was at large. He was stronger than ever right now and he was getting stronger, Hermione knew it. She frequently sent owls to Harry and received them. She would go to the Burrow though. Ron planned to floo to her and they would go back to the burrow just after Harry's birthday. Harry would send them a list of what he needed and they would go to Diagon alley to get it all, and all of their stuff. She couldn't wait…

The day before Harry's sixteenth birthday, Hermione's father came home very drunk. She could tell he'd been out drinking. This was the time Hermione feared her father most. The time he had no control over his emotions, and only partially over his actions. Hermione and her mother were on the sofa watching a muggle television programme called Eastenders. He came in and stood in the parlour in their magnificent house. Both her mother and Hermione looked at him, the fear growing in Hermione. He looked mad; she could see it in his face.

"Are you ok, dear?" said her mother worriedly

"You!" he pointed at Hermione. Her mother looked at her and she looked back. She was scared and her mother was looking at her questioningly, like she had done something wrong.

"What?" replied Hermione, trying to sound innocent even though she was.

"You, I can't stand your cocky attitude, get over here now". Her mother leapt up as Hermione rose.

"What's wrong with you?" she said.

"Her, she's so cocky. She was a freak before Hogwarts and she still is. She thinks she so good" he did an imitation of a diva. "She doesn't know how lucky –"

"How dare you say that!" shouted her mother, while Hermione just stood there in shock. 'Cocky? Freak? He never sees me, what is he talking about?'

"You! Here! NOW!!" he shouted, pointing a wobbling finger at Hermione. Hermione went to move but her mother stopped her.

"Don't even think about it, you've done nothing wrong" she said, looking at Hermione. Hermione saw her father walking up to them; she looked at him in shock and her mother turned around to face a fist. He punched her hard on the cheek. She fell to the ground.

"This is all your fault. That would never have happened if you had never been born. You ruined everything". Hermione looked at her mother, she was out cold. She returned to her father and looked at him, trying to read his expression, and his mind. He was going to do something, something bad. She knew it. He was mad, madder than ever. And he was drunk. She made to run away but he pushed her back. She landed with a hard thud on the floor.

"You ruined everything"

"You ruined me!"

"You have no idea what you're talking about. You ruined your mother's and my relationship. We hid things, she knew."

"She knew what?"

"Everything! Why was she so defensive?"

"She loves me, she would be defensive" he looked at her with a look of disgust.

"No one loves you, you filthy Mudblood" Hermione froze. How did he know that word? Had he read her mail? How could he say that to her, her own father didn't love her? He knew as well as she did that her mother loved her. But then why hadn't she stopped him hurting her, if she knew?

"How dare you call me that!?! You have no idea what that means. How dare you" she shouted and went to get up. He kicked her hard in the side and she crawled up in pain.

"Get up" he shouted "NOW!" she rose. "Strip" 'WHAT!!!!!!' Her mind was blank.

"Excuse me?!" She replied in a tone of complete disbelief.

"You heard me, do it! NOW!"

"You can't be serious?" The same thing was going through her mind over and over… 'what's he going to do?'

He lunged forward and pushed her back. Keepng her hands pinned, and her legs as still as possible, what with her struggling, he pulled down her trousers and underwear. He laughed as he saw the look on her face. She was shocked, scared and humiliated all at once. He threw her down, and laid on top of her…

"Once upon a time, there was a girl. In her early years, she had to learn. How to grow up living in a war that she called home. Never know just where to turn for shelter from the storm. It hurt me to see the pain across my mothers face; every time my fathers fist would put her in her place.

Bruises fade father, but the pain remains the same. I still remember how you kept me so afraid. The strength is my mother for all the love she gave. Every morning that I wake I look back at yesterday, and I'm OK. I often wonder why I've carried all this skit, when it's you who helped me put up all these walls I've built.

Can't go, I'm a broken child screaming please no more. Daddy don't you understand the damage you have done. For you it's just a memory, but for me it still lives on.

It's not so easy to forget, all the marks you left along her leg. When I was thrown against those stairs.

Bruises fade father, but the pain remains the same."

"Get off me!!!" shouted Hermione as her father leaned over her. She was now struggling against him and his sadistic touch, hitting him with silly girly slaps that had no effect. Her strokes made it difficult for him to control her, however. She lay on her back hitting him with all her might; she didn't know what else to do. Here she was, laying half-naked in her living room, her mother unconscious only a few paces away, and her father on top of her, pawing at her body.

She had to get out, get away from this! She hastily got up as he was unzipping his jeans. She ran out of the living room into the parlour where her clothes were, and picked them up running as fast as she could. She could hear his screams and his yells. He chased her through the kitchen and back into the living room.

Suddenly, with a hard thud, she landed on the floor, tripping over her mother's legs. She could have cursed her if the situation had allowed her to. She turned over so her back as on the floor and looked up the broad man towering over her, casting a dark shadow on her. He pinned her down once again.

After about a minute of her kicking and screaming, he shouted, "BITCH!"

Hermione stopped her struggling, and looked up at the man raping her with a look of revulsion and shock. She struggled to understand what was happening to her. She may be nearly 16 but she was still a virgin, and the person that was doing this to her was of all people, her own father!

Hermione lay there, frozen in shock as he pawed at her body, pinching her legs, stomach and breasts. She was used to this sort of pain, but this seemed 10 times worse than anything he had ever done to her. Suddenly she felt him force her legs open. Her mind was frozen, she couldn't think. Tears streaming down her face she yelled as he thrust inside her and continued violently. Her mind was numb but she could think, the pain of her breaking had bought her senses back, she knew what was happening. She screamed louder, as if hoping for someone to come and rescue her from the nightmare.

She waited, waited until he finished. 'How long can it take?' scrambled Hermione, the pain and shock taking over anything real.

Here was a 16-year-old girl with a bad past. Her mother was laying near her unconscious, her father raping her. All she wanted was it to be over.

Finally he pulled out of her and stood up, looking at her. She couldn't read his emotion. He walked off. She looked around for her clothes but couldn't see them. She picked up a blanket that lay near the hearth fireplace and rapped it around her as she crawled up into a protective ball on the floor. She sat there, all alone, rocking herself, crying silently, tears running down her face. She was bleeding, and she ached all over. Inside, she was screaming, screaming with shock, with pain, with overflowing memories she couldn't handle anymore. She couldn't take any more. No more shock.

Hermione woke up early the next morning. Her body ached and she cringed as she looked around. The room was empty. 'Where's mum? Where's he?' At the thought of her father she felt a jolt of emotion run through her that she couldn't identify. She was sick of 'shock' and 'pain'. They didn't seem real anymore. Anything that happened to her was unreal. At least, that's how she felt, or wanted to feel. She couldn't admit to this, but was afraid that if she didn't speak about it soon she would go crazy. Crazy with the shock and pain that was twisting into knots in her stomach and piercing at her heart.

"I close my eyes, and make a wish for inner peace and tranquillity inside. A mind I feel is changing, breaking down the defences of my heart.

I'm running away, running away from here. Though I make an escape, I'm running away from here. I'm running away, wont be predictable, miss reliable.

I'm running away."

She tried to get up but as she did she felt a pain sear through her chest. She figured her ribs were broken. However, she got up and struggled upstairs. She finally got into her room. She knew she couldn't cast any spells to take away her pain, it was against the Decree of Under Age Wizardry, but she couldn't stand it.

She took out her wand and muttered "Woundus Repairo". She watched and felt as her ribs fixed themselves slowly. Finally, the pain started to ease. She knew the spell only quickened the healing process, but how long did bruises take to heal? Hermione knew the answer… days. She found bruises took weeks to heal sometimes, and knew that these wounds wouldn't heal fast, even with the help of a spell. Not only that, but she had done illegal magic.

With a feeling of shock and panic, she remembered Ron would be around to pick her up in a couple of days. The wounds wouldn't heal by then.

Now able to, she stood up, though still painfully, and looked in the mirror. She was shocked at the reflection; only a couple of bruises - then she remembered that he hadn't really done anything to her face that could give her noticeable bruises - and also a small gash on her lip. This lightened her spirits, slightly, as she thought of an excuse she could tell Ron. Maybe she fell over whilst walking in the woods? No… Hermione was never one for 'leisure'. Maybe he would believe it anyway. 'Yes, I went walking in the woods and I tripped over… a… branch. Wow how so very original Hermione', trying her best to laugh at herself. Though, she didn't really find this very funny.

Hermione sat on her bead, her back close to the head board, close enough to feel secure but far enough as to not have to lean on it. Her mind reeled back to what happened the night before. 'How could he have done this to me, after everything I've been through, he just makes things worse'. Hermione closed her eyes, as to shut away the tears welling up in her eyes. Close off the emotions. Not let out the truth. It was no good; this wouldn't make her feel any better. Though, Hermione had succeeded in her Perfect Façade for so long, she could hide this too. She wouldn't allow herself to break down over that scum some would call her father.

Trying her best to hold herself together, only made her think about what she was shutting away. The tears fell, and she gave in.

She remembered back to the night where she had been beaten over a coat. She remembered thinking that her father couldn't treat her any worse. She was wrong. She wasn't sure exactly how she got over that. 'The cuts' she thought. She turned to her bedside table and found the knife. She picked it up and stared at it.

It was evil. It was sharp and hard and gave her pain. It gave her scars that reminded her of everything. It was her freedom, release. It helped her forget for the worst of it.

Hermione sat on her bed, staring at the knife, willing herself not to do it. She was weak, she had to, and it was her only release.

She sliced…

"I'm in over my head, you got under my skin, I got no strength at all in the state that I'm in, and my knees are weak and my mouth cant speak, fell to far this time. I'm too lost in you, caught in you, lost in everything about you so deep, I cant sleep, I cant think, I just think about the things you do, I'm to lost in you.

Cause I'm slipping away like the sand to the tiles

I might loose my mind

I'm lost in you"

Hermione found herself lying on her bed, with the knife held lightly in her hand when she woke only a few hours later. She had cried herself to sleep. She looked at her arm, which held several rather small gashes, and a couple deeper ones. She felt sick at the sight of this and what it represented. Thinking that no one was inside the house right now, she made her way downstairs to get herself a drink.

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