Scars of the Past

Through the frosty window of her flat in London, she could see the faint outline of the club 3

blocks away. In the cloudy sky above it, she could see the flickering of the neon lights that

illuminated the sign marking the teen hotspot for underage drinking and clubbing, Club Cuir, or

Club Leather. As perfect as her life seemed to her classmates at their school, Hogwarts School

of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the existence of 16-year-old Hermione Granger was anything but

simple. She routinely went to that neon lighted club to drink and dance away any memories of

her problems. She would have gone out that night, but instead of her regular drinking and

grinding, all she wanted to do was think. Hermione was sitting on the window seat in her

apartment staring at those flickering lights. She was all dressed to go out, wearing a black

backless halter that fit her perfectly and red leather pants and black stiletto heels 2 inches high.

She had gotten a permanent straightening done at a salon that had cost nearly 700 dollars. It had

been worth it though, because now her hair was not as bushy and was, of course, straight. That

night, she had chosen to wear it down and make it slightly wavy by not blow- drying her hair

after her shower. She had on lipstick the same shade as her pants and had done smoky red and

silver eye shadow. When she tucked her hair behind her ears you could see the tiny ruby studs

in her lobes. Her hands were free of jewelry except for one of her most prized possessions. It

was a simple, thin gold band with 3 square cut garnets. There were 2 small red garnets, the

color of blood, surrounding amber colored one that was slightly larger than the previous

two. Inscribed in it was a simple but true message True life lies in laughter, love and work.

Harry and Ron had given it to her at the end of term 5th year. It seemed so long ago though

it had only been a month and a half. They would all be returning to school in two weeks. In two

short weeks Hermione would have to erect that wall of perfectionism. Her only means of

coping, seclusion, would be stolen by the train that lay at Platform 9 3/4 at Kings Cross Station.

She shook her head gently, her chestnut brown hair falling over her shoulder. She had worked

too hard and too long to start thinking about her old life now. She stood abruptly, walked over

to her vanity mirror and reapplied her lipstick. Capping the makeup, she walked out the door

into the dinky hallway of the apartment building. As she stepped off the curb into the street, a

bright yellow convertible came speeding around the corner; she jumped back hollering words

not acceptable on television. She crossed the next couple blocks to the club quickly and flashed

a smile to the bouncer, Harold, who knew her well enough to let her in without waiting. Harold

hated his name, and was usually called Big H. She was one of the few who called him by his

true name. The music at Club Cuir was the best around. They played a great variety of remixes

and rap and other fast songs. Hermione came there to dance and drink, as did most people

who went there, but unlike the others, she did it out of need. The need to forget about the things

in her life that needed forgetting. She would dance with guys who were perfect strangers and

leave them wanting more, which she never gave them. Tonight, there was a desperate hot guy

shortage, so she grinded and bumped her way over to the loo. She went inside and checked her

makeup. She met a few of her, well, not friends, Hermione didn't have friends, more of

acquaintances. They chatted for a few minutes about the guys there and then saying her

goodbyes and good lucks, Hermione left. She glanced around the club once more and decided

that she should just go home. "And may I ask why a fine young lady like yourself would be going

home so early without a handsome young man at her side?" a smooth, male voice

inquired. Hermione turned to face a boy with blond hair and gray eyes. She felt familiarity pull at

the back of her head. She dismissed it thinking how she would remember him if she had ever

met him before. "Yes, you may. It's because I didn't realize that someone as good-looking as

you was hanging around here somewhere." Hermione said with a seductive smile. She took his

hand and pulled him out to the dance floor where couples were moving to the beats of the Black

Eyed Peas, Hey Mama. She turned and started moving her body against his. They danced like

that for several more songs before the blonde pulled Hermione over to a tall table with matching

tall chairs. "I'm going to go get drinks. What do you want?" She replied with a root beer float.

She gave him a sheepish grin and a flirtatious smile. With that, he was making his way through

the crowd to get to the bar. She watched him, perched on the edge of the high seat, and had a

sickening thought. Draco Malfoy had platinum blond hair also. What if.... No. No way. Malfoy

would never survive in Muggle London. No way. She studied him closely as he made his way

back to the table. As he was nearing, a young teenager rammed into his shoulder, causing him to

spill a small amount of the drinks and send locks of his silky platinum hair into his face. He

turned and growled at the young boy. He set the drinks down and wept his hair off his face. She

glanced at him and saw a scar across his right cheek, just below his cheekbone. Her hands

started shaking as she stared at the only flaw on his face and brought the straw in her float to her

lips as she realized the gorgeous man sitting across from her was none other than her best friends

archenemies, Draco Malfoy. "I, uh, I- I've got to go. I'll see you around sometime. Um, bye.

" stuttered the flustered and nearly speechless Hermione. She leapt up from her seat and raced

for the door, only glancing back at the pale blond once, startled to see his piercing gray eyes

following her to the door. She burst out into the cool August air and took a deep breath. She

leaned against the wall of a building not far from the club. Thoughts were racing through her

mind about the dances they shared and her stupidity. AS she started walking back to her flat,

she started mumbling her thoughts to the pavement on the sidewalk. "Gods, how could I have

been so stupid. Not only did I not realize it was Ferret-Boy, but I danced with him. Not only

danced, flirted! How could this have happened!" How could she have not realized that by taking

down the wall she put up at school, she had vaguely forgotten everything about her wizarding

life! She looked up at the apartment building before her and sighed. Everything had gotten so

complicated before this summer.

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