This is my second ever fanfic. I hope you like it.

Disclaimer: not mine. This is the only time I'm putting this so pay attention to it now.

Rated for: mentioned rape, beating, self-mutilation, attempted suicide

Chapter I

A ray of sunshine snuck through a gap in the faded red curtains and danced across a young woman's face. A bird landed on the windowsill and tweeted. The girl opened her eyes at the sound, as if it was her own personal alarm clock. But she put the pillow over her head and attempted to go back to sleep.

"It's too early," she mumbled to herself. Then she faintly heard a buzzing noise. Removing the pillow from her head, she looked to her real alarm clock. She slammed her hand down on the button and sat up. "Ok, fine. You win."

Swinging her feet over the edge of her bed, she looked at the calendar hanging on her wall. Her expression changed from one of laziness to one of joy. It was August 31st.

"I'm going back to Hogwarts tomorrow," she told the bird on her windowsill. He cocked his head and looked at her. She vaguely wondered if he had understood her.

Hermione Granger was glad to be going back to school for more reasons than one. It was basically the only time she could see her best friends, she wanted to learn even more about the magical world she had only been a part of for six years, but mostly she wanted to get away from—no, it was best not to think about that.

Quickly, she walked into the bathroom next door and jumped into the shower, hoping the cold water would relieve her of her distressing thoughts. As she washed her body, she began to stare at the scars on her forearms. Each one had its own story to tell.

The gash just below her left wrist was from the time she had accidentally burned a hole in the carpet when she was nine, and her father had slapped her so hard he had left a handprint on her face for hours. Then there was the cut on her right arm from when her father had neglected her for days and had deprived her of food, merely because she had forgotten to be home in time to cook dinner. There were more scars, more stories, but Hermione let the cold water pour down her face and did not look at her arms again. She did not want to be reminded.

Ever since her mother had died, her father had taken to drinking to solve his problems. But in supposedly solving his problems, he had created more for his daughter. When he was drunk, he would beat her, sometimes for no reason, and make her go for days on end without food. She wanted so badly to get away from him, and going to Hogwarts was the only time she could get away.

She got out of the shower and wrapped a towel around her. She wrung her long brown hair out and shook it to get the water droplets out. Then she grabbed a brush and started bringing it through her hair, making sure to get every tangle and knot. With hair down to her waist, it easily got tangled up.

There was a loud knock on her bedroom door. "Hermione! Open the door!" a loud voice said on the other side.

A look on fear shot across the brunette's features for a moment. She regained control and hurriedly put a bathrobe on. Then she cautiously walked over to the door and opened it slowly.

"Yes?" she whispered.

He didn't answer. He merely banged the door open all the way, nearly squashing Hermione up against the wall. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her close to him.

"When do you go back to that school of yours?" he asked. She could smell the alcohol on his breath.

"T-Tomorrow," she tried her hardest not to stutter, not to show him her fear.

But he must have seen it in her eyes, for he smirked and said, "Awww, no more fun for dad all year. Until Christmas, that is." He laughed a little, as if he had actually said something funny. Hermione gulped. This had happened before.

"What are you wearing this for?" he asked, tugging on her bathrobe. She wrapped her free arm around herself to keep it from falling off.

"Dad, stop please," she said.

"Why?" he asked. Before she could wrench her arm away, he threw her onto her bed and ripped her bathrobe off of her. He ignored her desperate cries and her tears as he descended upon her.

--Some time later--

Hermione cried until she could no longer produce tears. She opened the drawer of her beside-table and pulled out a razor blade. This was, in fact, the exact same razor blade she had used the first time she had ever cut herself, and she had kept it in case she would ever need it again. She had figured then she wouldn't, but she turned out to be wrong. Hopefully, this would be the last time she would ever use it.

She held the blade in a tight grip in her right hand. She sniffled a little, thinking of Harry and Ron and Ginny, and how she would never see them again. But she knew what she had to do. Without another second's hesitation, she slid the cool metal across her left wrist and watched the crimson liquid flow.

As she sank into unconsciousness, she wondered how long it would be until anyone found her.