Not what you think
Chapter 3
On with it!
I wake a few hours later. I am in my bed. Hermione is nowhere in sight. Fear hits me like the back of Harry's hand. Hermione knows. Happiness fills me, Hermione knows! After all this time my angel is going to save me.
But the fear returns. She isn't here. Did she go after IT? No, that's not her style. She is the type of girl who carefully plans revenge. Carefully plans everything. My mind runs little dirty images through it.
I'm smiling with my eyes closed. Pretending to feel her hands on my waist again. I must have a very good imagination.
"Why are you smiling like that?" IT. No, NO, NO, not now. Not when I am finally going to be happy. Not when I have my angel. IT sits on my hips. My face in numb so I know he has hit me.
"I asked you a question. Why are you smiling like that, hm? Masturbating you little whore? Well there's no need, I'm here." He starts it. I can't believe this. I need my angel.
As if she heard my thoughts Hermione walks in with a tray. Tea and sandwiches. She takes one look at the situation and her face goes blank. "Herms, we're a bit busy here. If you could…" IT says.
Hermione keeps her blank face and says in a perfectly calm voice. "I have nowhere else to go and Ginny and I were busy before you were busy. So please, if you would…" I could kiss her. Harry stares at her defiantly. She smiles at him. "Loads of homework you know. Ginny and I only have a month left to finish it all." She says again. When did she become a good liar? We finished our homework two weeks ago and I believe her.
IT gets up and smiles at her. "Same old Herms." He says walking to the door. Hermione lifts her lip in a look of disgust as he passes her. She closes and locks the door behind him. Hermione bursts. "That asshole. I could KILL him. With my bare hands." She turns to me and he expression softens tenfold. "Are you okay?"
I nod. "We need to talk."
"Yes, we do. Tea?" she holds out a sandwich, that I take gratefully.
"Yes please. Would you like to start?"
"I think so." She hands me a cup of tea and I breath in the hot steam. Its nowhere near as comforting as her breath on my ear.
"How long?" Was as simply as she put it.
"Two years." At this she bursts again. "You were only fourteen?!!!"
"Yes."
"The bruises?"
"His hands."
"The burns?"
"His cigarettes."
"The cuts." At this I hold in my breath. Can I tell her this? This is not IT, this is MY dirty little secret. I'm so confused and I wish she didn't ask that. I let the breath out silently. I don't want her to know that I was holding it.
"What do you think?" I asked her.
"I think they are far too perfect to belong to Harry." She lifts her sleeve up. Her arms are like mine. All of a sudden I'm on my feet. "Who?" I ask.
"My father." I've met her father. I know her father. But now that I think of it, Hermione is subdues when around him. I should have known. How could I have missed it? There is no way.
I pull her to me. She lays her head on my breasts. I stroke her slightly messed up hair. It feels sorter than it looks. It's my turn to comfort. It's my turn to be strong. I like this role better. I hate feeling weak.
She tilts her head up to mine and I see the tears in her eyes. I can't stand it. I want to kill him. Her father and IT. I need my box cutter. I can't do it when she is here. I need to be the strong one for her.
She is looking at me. I see it. She wants me. But the gaze is not like His. She wants to make me feel good. She wants to give. I want her too. But goddess this is far too soon.
She sees what I mean through my eyes. She stands and walks to my piano. I look at her strangely. She opens it and pulls up the cloth. She opens her bag and pulls out a staff. "I didn't know you played." I say.
She smiles at me. "Only since I was 7." She places the music on the piano and cracks her fingers. I see that she has long, elegant, fingers. Her hands are perfect for the piano.
She places her hands to the keys and plays the scales. Her fingers move with the grace and stead of a practiced pianist. Then she plays a few nothing songs. London Bridge, Ode to Joy, ect. She looks at me and then goes into what the song in front of her.
Then the song begins. And I've never heard anything like it before. She is far more skilled than I. This song speaks. It tells a story, pain, sorrow, love, hate. Everything. It is the most beautiful thing I've ever heard in my life. Tears sting at my eyes. Holy shit! I want to cry. It's been two years. Not since the first incident. She plays without looking at the notes. She knows this song by heart.
When its finished I find I cannot contain myself. I walk straight over to her and I pull her face to mine. She is crying. I can taste the salt. Gods she's beautiful. She is full of passion and love. I can tell that she has wanted this as long as I have.
"I wrote that." She tells me.
"I can tell. It's full of you. I could hear your pain. I feel like I know you better than I've ever known anyone.."
"Gin?" her voice sounds odd.
"Yes?" I ask concerned.
"Behind you." She says. All I know is the pain was so raw that I passed out. For the second time today.
Chapter the third. Cliffhanger. I'm proud of this. I usually suck at those.