Thank you to everyone who reviewed. Remember, I own nothing. Harry Potter belongs to Joanne Kathleen Rowling, and the song belongs to Martina McBride. Now on to the story!

Chapter 2: Concrete Angel

Hermione woke up Saturday morning at around six. She had to make her room at least half-way decent for Harry. She had been neglecting it lately because of all the work her father was making her do over the summer.

She spent about a half hour cleaning her room, and just as she made sure the drawer that held her sketchbooks was locked, Harmony came in and told her to hurry up if they wanted to leave before Harley woke up. Hermione quickly ran a brush through her bushy, brown hair (which did very little) and ran out with her mom. They had just reached the kitchen when a voice made them jump.

"Where do you think you two are going?"

Harley's voice rang out as they reached for their coats. Harmony moved a little to her left to protect Hermione from her father.

"We're going to get Hermione's friend who's going to be staying for the rest of the summer," she stated quite clearly.

"Did I say you could?" Harley spat at Hermione, who stepped out from behind her mother.

"No, but Mom did, so --" but before she could finish her sentence, Harley had grabbed her shoulder and threw her against the door, where she hit her eye against the doorknob.

"Harley, don't you have to go to work? If you can call it work?" Harmony said scathingly to her husband, kneeling down next to her daughter.

"Fine, and bring your friend, but don't expect them to help you," and with that he left.

Hermione looked up after her father with a look of utmost loathing in her eyes. She had a dark purple bruise forming around her left eye.

"Are you all right, Hermione?" she heard her mother say, but all she could do was nod. She felt that if she opened her mouth, she would just scream. Not of pain, though, but of fury, rage, and hatred.

"Come on," after a few minutes, Hermione trusted herself enough to open her mouth, "we need to go get Harry."

Meanwhile, Harry was pacing back and forth in his room. Hermione had sent him another letter telling him she would be there in between 7:30 and 8:00, and it was a little past 7:30. He was glancing around his room, making sure he didn't forget anything.

At long last he heard a car pull up and looked out his window to see Hermione getting out of the passenger side of a black SUV. He was so glad the Dursley's weren't home. Uncle Vernon hated people with SUVs. (Not that he would like Hermione anyway.)

Harry leaned out his window and called Hermione's name to get her attention. She looked up at him and smiled. Harry noticed her black eye and made a mental note to ask her about it.

Hermione saw Harry disappear to answer the door, but she rang the doorbell (about five times) anyway, just to annoy him.

"Are you trying to give me a headache?" Harry asked when he opened the door.

"Maybe," Hermione simply stated, and laughed at the look of mock-annoyance on Harry's face.

"Just come help me with my stuff, Hermy," Harry said in a friendly manner, but received a thwack on the head for the nickname.

"Ow! What was that for!"

"You know perfectly well what that was for, Potter!"

Harry just laughed and showed Hermione where his bedroom was. When Hermione entered, however, he shut the door behind her. She looked at him with an almost fearful look.

"What did you do to your eye, Mione?" He asked.

"I-I tripped and fell, that's all," she tried to laugh the situation off, but Harry saw through her scheme.

"Okay. Now, what really happened?"

Hermione mumbled her answer so Harry could only understand the first word.

"I'll what?"

"You'll find out," she said nervously, playing with the material at the bottom of her shirt, not looking at him, "when my dad gets home."

Hermione was spared hearing his answer when her mom honked the car horn, telling them to hurry up.

"Come on, then," Hermione said, hoping to steer the conversation out of these dangerous waters. She picked up one end of Harry's trunk and looked at him, clearly telling him to help her. After a few seconds in which Hermione could see a questioning, clearly concerned look in his eyes, he gave in. He walked over and picked up the other end of his trunk with one hand and Hedwig's cage in the other.

After a few difficulties getting down the stairs, they managed to get all of Harry's stuff in the back of the SUV. Harry and Hermione climbed in the back seat and Hermione noticed that her mom had put in a Martina McBride CD. Harry couldn't help but notice Hermione's behavioral changes when a song entitled "Concrete Angel" started;

She walks to school with the lunch she packed.

Nobody knows what she's holding back.

Wearing the same dress she wore yesterday.

She hides the bruises with the linen and lace.

The teacher wonders but she doesn't ask.

It's hard to see the pain behind the mask.

Bearing the burden of a secret storm.

Sometimes she wishes she was never born.

Through the wind and the rain

She stands hard as a stone.

In a world that she can't rise above.

But her dreams give her wings

And she flies to a place where she's loved.

Concrete Angel.

Somebody cries in the middle of the night.

The neighbors hear, but they turn out their light.

A fragile soul caught in the hands of fate.

When mornin' comes it'll be too late.

Through the wind and the rain

She stands hard as a stone.

In a world that she can't rise above.

But her dreams give her wings.

And she flies to a place where she's loved.

Concrete Angel.

A statue stands in a shaded place.

An angel girl with an upturned face.

A name is written on a polished rock.

A broken heart that the world forgot.

Through the wind and the rain

She stands hard as a stone

In a world that she can't rise above.

But her dreams give her wings

And she flies to a place where she's loved.

Concrete Angel.

As the song ended, Harry looked over at Hermione and was startled to see a tear rolling down her cheek. He reached over and placed a hand on her leg. She jumped, and Harry had the distinct impression that she had forgotten he was there. She looked at him and gave what she hoped looked like a convincing smile, but it disappeared as another tear made its lonely way down her face.

Harry was startled to see such fear in her eyes. It was more fear than he had ever seen before. More fear than when they saved the Sorcerer's Stone first year. More fear than when they saved Sirius third year. More fear than when Harry had seen Voldemort come back fourth year. More fear than he had seen in the Department of Mysteries fifth year. And even more fear than when Harry had gone off to defeat Voldemort last year. It scared him, that something could scare her so badly.

She turned away and wiped the tears from her face, but Harry didn't remove his hand from her leg.

"Here we are," Harmony said a few minutes later, pulling into the driveway of an old two-story country house.

They got out of the car and Hermione's eyes immediately fell on an old grey pick-up truck parked underneath the big oak tree. It belonged to her father. Harry followed Hermione's gaze and saw the truck. He also heard her distinctly say, "Oh no."

"What?" Harry asked her as they pulled his trunk from the back.

"My dad," Hermione said, and Harry remembered what she had said, back in his room, 'You'll find out when my dad gets home.'

Hermione helped Harry carry his trunk into the kitchen when her father's voice made them jump.

"YOU'RE LATE! YOU DIDN'T MAKE ME BREAKFAST! MAKE ME LUNCH OR GO TO YOUR ROOM!"

Harry saw Hermione flinch as though a whip had been brandished at her. Her voice shook when she spoke.

"Y-yeah, b-but, Dad --"

"No buts! Go to your room! You're grounded!"

He pushed Hermione to get her going, but knocked her down, instead. He then started kicking at her to get her to stand up.

"Get going, you damn slut!"
Harry, horrified at the sight before him, jumped in to help his best friend. He knelt down next to her and helped her up.

"Come on, Hermione."

Harry carried his trunk and Hedwig's cage up to Hermione's room. He didn't want to force Hermione to talk, but if he didn't, she more than likely wouldn't talk about it at all, so he took a brave stab at it.

"Mione..." he started, but he couldn't think of what else to say. To his surprise, however, Hermione did speak.

"Harry, you don't have to say anything. I don't want to hear it."

It was not what he wanted to hear, either.

"What do you mean?"

But, instead of answering, Hermione just whimpered, and Harry noticed a slightly worried look in her eyes.

"Something wrong?"
Instead of answering, Hermione bit her bottom lip and whimpered a little louder. Harry noticed she had gotten fidgety as well.

"Hermione, are you all right?"

"I have to go to the bathroom," she whimpered, sounding a lot like a two-year-old.

"So?"
"So, I can't leave my room," Hermione sighed when Harry still looked confused, "My dad grounded me to my room, so I have to stay here. No matter how bad I have to go," she added looking away from him.

"But that's totally unfair!" Harry exclaimed, watching Hermione get more panicky by the second.

"Yeah, well, he's never really been fair to me, to tell you the truth."

"But Mione..."

"I can't, Harry!" and her tone told him it was final.

Please R&R! Thanks in advance!