Disclaimer: You know the drill.
A/N: It's not very good, and I'm not writing this to fish for poor compliments or anything. I just went with my thoughts, and this is what popped out. Eh, it was worth a shot.
Hermione was sick of it.
She was sick of the working, the trying, the ever-pleasant façade she wore to please them all. Day in and day out she slaved to be perfect, to be the one everyone could admire and turn to for help, the one who got nothing less than100and who never failed at anything. She couldn't show those emotions, those burning, fiery red feelings that she sometimes just wanted to coat everything in, wanted to see leap from her veins and shine on the fresh white walls.
And this she wished again as she ran up to her perfect room and slammed the perfect door on them, the two who were out of the house and long gone and wouldn't know she was mad at them because she was just so perfect at hiding those damn emotions. Fuck. She let out a miserable, wretched sob and ripped down a perfect white curtain from the perfectly level bar. "Take this!" she wanted to scream at the spotless fabric as she flung it on her immaculate white carpet and stomped on the stupid little frills, but no, she had to be quiet and let the neighbors think everything was perfect still. She could feel the red rising, boiling, forcing its way to the surface, and she couldn't take it, she couldn't take it anymore! It burst from her grasp and spread on the walls, covered her face and her clothes and just everything, and oh fuck, what had she done?
She curled into a corner, bawling into the ripped curtain, sobs racking her small body. Tears dripped out of her swollen eyes and stained the lacy white curtain until it was more grey than white, and shit, her mother was going to kill her for this room, it was all red and the curtain was dirty and oh, god, just let it end!
Hermione wept until her eyes were empty, and then her dry, heaving cries were all that she heard, all that she knew. A sudden tap on her window startled her out of her misery. An owl waited outside the window, a beautiful, elegant, tawny creature poised on a branch in the silvery moonlight with its face reflecting that strange scarlet glow. Blearily, her mind barely working, Hermione opened the window and let the strange creature in. She took the letter from its leg and began to read…
"Dear Ms. Granger,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry…"