Through My Lies

Summary: Ever since her parents were killed by Voldermort and her abusive uncle has taken over, Hermione's life has gone full circle into the hell she now endures everyday. She tries to fool everyone in fear of what would happen if her friends found out the truth. But how long can it last? Who will see finally be able to see through her lies and save her? Rated M to be on the safe side for selt-mutilation (cutting), swearing, and some romance. HGDM!
Disclaimer: All characters (besides Hermione's uncle, Brandon) and settings belong to J.K. Rowling.
Author's Note: Well, it's been a looong while since I've written a fanfiction, so I still consider this my first. And honestly, I just logged into my account today and I saw this document, and I don't even remember writing it... but it sounds pretty good to me so I'm going to continue.

Chapter 1

'It's your fault, Hermione. It's all your fault. Your parents are dead because of you, they gave you all you ever wanted and this is how you repay them? You let them die. You knew Voldermort would be coming. You did nothing to stop it. You're a worthless bitch.' Brandon had drilled those words permanently into Hermione's mind.

Hermione sat in the corner of her bedroom, her knees drawn upon her chest and her tear stained face was hidden behind her scarred knees. The words that Brandon said to her everyday was now going through her mind. He was right... it was her fault. She knew Voldemort would come for her parents, but she didn't know how to stop him. Hermione dug her nails into her thigh, trying to calm herself down and repeating to herself that it wasn't her fault. But no matter how hard she tried to deny it, it didn't work. Hermione was crying uncontrollably as she stumbled to her desk to find...something. Not long after, she found it and she held up the silver knife. Giving it a flourish, she slashed mercilessly at her arm, and she watched the blood drip freely down her wrist, serenely. Hermione made another cut above the previous one and watched as the blood from each cut mixed and finally dripped to the floor -splattering the carpet in deep crimson. Hermione concentrated on her cuts and tried to forget everything that was previously going through her mind. After five minutes of peaceful bliss, Hermione heard the drunken voice of her uncle.

"Hermione, you worthless bitch, come down here!" he bellowed up the stairs.

Sighing and bracing herself for what was going to come next, she slowly made her way down the stairs. Right when she got down, Brandon brutally grabbed her arm and twisted it behind her back. He was close enough so that Hermione could smell the stink of hard liquor emitting from his mouth as he panted loudly. She whimpered silently and he threw her on to the floor. Hermione barely had time to breathe and catch herself before his foot made contact with her stomach, knocking the wind out of her. She choked and tried to gasp for breath. Soon, she was being mercilessly punched and kicked. "You...deserve...this...useless...whore..." Brandon mumbled as he abused her violently. Hermione closed her eyes... 1...2...3...4...5...6... she had gotten to 17 before she blacked out and fainted.

The harsh sunlight poured into the dark hallway downstairs. Hermione squinted her eyes and found herself lying on the bloody carpet by the stairs. She tried to turn around but every move she made caused her to wince in pain. Finally mustering up enough strength to get up, Hermione went to the bathroom to see the damage caused by her uncle yesterday. She gripped the sink as she braced herself and finally looked in the mirror. She was staring at her ugly, dirty self. Her eyes darted to all the bruises and cuts she had -some of which she caused herself. There was a line of self-inflicted cuts that ran down the right side of her arm and reminded her of a marching bad. She laughed to herself. A hollow, empty, laugh.

Sighing heavily as she turned away from her reflection, she started putting magical ointment on her some of her bruises. She left some bruises and cuts to remind her of the hate she felt for her uncle. Hermione then decided to get ready for the day; while rummaging through her drawers, she spotted the glint of her knife. Abandoning what she had been doing, she grabbed the knife and began to make more cuts on her left arm. Relief swam over her as she gazed at the scarlet liquid that trickled down her arm- the only way she knew she was still alive. After about half an hour, she breathed in content and resumed getting ready -finally deciding on a black zip-up sweater with a white tank top under and blue jeans.

"Morning, Hermione," Brandon greeted her in a falsely sweet voice.

He then threw some letters at her and she immediately recognized them as letters from Hogwarts. 'Welcome back to Hogwarts... blah, blah, blah, the usual... congratulations, you have been chosen as Head Girl," Hermione skimmed through the letter, expecting nothing new. She was about to put it down when it hit her, she re-read the letter and then almost screamed in delight, 'Head Girl,' she breathed.

"What are you so happy about, you little fucker."

"Nothing...just excited for school..." Hermione quickly lied.

Apparently, this was the wrong thing to say. In less than a second, he was behind her, her arm twisted behind her back. Hermione shut her eyes in pain as he ravaged the same arm that he had last night. Brandon whispered into her ear, threateningly, "Excited to go back to school? You cunt, you just can't wait to get away from me, can you?" Hermione winced as he tightened his grip on her wrist, "You should be grateful I'm even letting you go. But just to get a few things straight -you will be coming back here for winter and spring break and you will not tell anyone anything about this. Got it?"

Hermione quickly nodded, she felt as if her arm was going to break under his deathly grip. Seeming satisfied, he released her. Trying to not give him the satisfaction that he had hurt her, she ignored the throbbing pain in her wrist and continued to make breakfast. At least she would try to make the most of her time away from him worthwhile. Head Girl... she smiled, and this time, it was a genuine and warm smile.

The days crept slowly by and everyday was just as unbearable as the last. Hermione was counting down the days... the days until she would be free from her uncle's wrath -if only for a few months. Hogwarts was her home; it was more of a home than her actual one would ever be. Everyday, some of her bruises would heal, but only to be replaced by new ones the next day. Hermione was longing for the warmth and comfort of Hogwarts. The thought of the soft beds, warm blankets, and the absence of Brandon, was what drove Hermione forward through the torturous nights.

A week before the term started, Hermione got her things together and rented a room in the Leaky Cauldron. She went to Diagon Alley to get the remaing things she needed. It was a surprise the Brandon had even let her leave a week before, but after she promised to stay with him all of Christmas and Easter break, he grudgingly let her go, but not without a final beating. Hermione turned uncomfortably on her small bed in the Leaky Cauldron. She drifted off into nightmares of the night when her parents were murdered by Voldemort. How they told her to hide, how they sacrificed themselves for her, how it was all her fault they were dead...

"Hey, Hermione! Over here!" Harry called her over to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor.

"Harry! Ron!" Hermione greeted them in a falsely cheery voice, "How have you been! I haven't heard from you all summer... except once!" 'Psh, they probably forgot about me...' she thought to herself.

"Webingud," Ron mumbled, his mouth full of ice cream.

Looking utterly disgusted, she turned to Harry, who said, "We've been good. And what are you talking about, we wrote you loads of times asking you to come stay at the Burrow. We figured since you didn't reply that your uncle and you went somewhere..."

Hermione stared blankly at him... 'I can't believe he hid my letters!' but noticing the wondering look on Harry face, she glibly lied, "Oh yeah, we went to Italy for a little bit and came back a week ago... those owls probably..." she trailed off, wondering what 'the owls' could've done...

"How was it?" Ron asked, having finished his sundae.

"Oh, it was... marvelous. We saw the Leaning Tower of Pisa, the Ponte Vecchio,and Florence had the most wonderful and interesting museums," Hermione tried to remember what she read about Italy, "What have you been doing?" She asked, trying to get the attention off her.

"Nothing... much..."

"Just Quiddi-"

"HERMIONEEE!" they were interrupted by a shrill scream. Soon, the source of the noise became apparent as Ginny came bounding up to Hermione.

"Ginny!" Hermione winced as Ginny pulled her into a tight hug -her bruises had yet to heal.

"Where have you been all summer? It's been sooo boring in a house full of boys... all they talk about is Quidditch, Quidditch, and MORE Quidditch!"

"I went to Fra- I mean, Italy. Marvelous time... really..."

"Oh, okay. I'm just so glad to see you!"

Hermione smiled sincerely. Looking around awkwardly, she shook back her sleeves to check the time...

"Hermione! Where'd you get the bruise from!" Ron gasped.

Right above her watch was a purple, black, and blue bruise about the size of a normal fist.

"Nothing." Hermione quickly pulled her sleeve over it.

"Hermione, that was not nothing," Harry said, his voice full of concern.

"It's nothing... really, I just banged it against a table... oh, I just remembered, I need some more ink.." Hermione began walking towards the Quill and Ink shop.

Still not fully convinced, Harry just decided to shake it off. I mean, it probably wasn't that important. He shoved his guilty thoughts to the back of his mind and pretended to be engrossed by a rainbow ink quill as he followed her into the shop.

"You didn't tell us you were Head Girl!" Ron yelled over the commotion in the hallways of the Leaky Cauldron as everyone ran around trying to get things together before leaving for King's Cross.

"I guess it slipped my mind... I mean, a lot of things have been happening over the summer..."

"I wonder who Head Boy is, " Harry added.

"Hopefully a Hufflepuff or something..."

"Just as long as it isn't -"

"Slytherin," they all shuddered at the thought.

"Hurry up kids!" Molly Weasley shouted up the stairs, she checked her watch - it was 10:20.

Harry, Hermione, and Ron, made it through the bustling of the platform and quickly boarded the Hogwarts Express. After they found an empty compartement, Hermione got up, "I'm going to go up to the Heads compartment and see who the Head Boy is. Then, McGonagall wants to go through some general things before we arrive at the school. I'll be back," she kissed each of their cheeks, and quickly slammed the door and made her way down the aisle.

Finally making it to the front of the train, she pushed open the door and to her disappointment saw that the new Head Boy was none other than... Draco Malfoy. She glared at him as she sat across from him.

"Fancy seeing you here, Granger," Draco smirked.

Hermione continued to gaze out the window, trying to ignore him. That, she decided, was how she was going to try to get through the year with him.

"Granger, have you gone daft. Well, I actually wouldn't be surprised seeing the scum you hang out with... and the scum that you are already..."

She flinched, but tried her best to not lose her temper, even though she would've loved to just curse him out of oblivion at that point. Hermione bit her tongue, drawing blood -she swilled it around her mouth. Tasting the blood. Malfoy was still talking indistinctly, and she just about to punch him, when Professor McGonagall walked in.

"Good morning. First, I'd just like to congratulate you two for being chosen as Head Boy and Head Girl this year. It's pretty simple what you do: patrol the hallways with the teachers, plan the balls, and basically just keep the school safe, and make sure that no one steps out of line," she said in a perfunctory manner, "any abuse of power will result in your probation, and repeating offenses will strip you of your head titles."

After she left, Hermione and Draco were left back in their silence. Hermione staring out the window and Draco trying to keep occupied with loud things that would annoy Granger. He looked at her, her long hair fell in curls below her shoulder, the sun catching the highlights in her hair. She had definitely grown up over the summer... yet there was something wrong with her... an eerie emptiness in those honey eyes that gazed at the passing countryside.

Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione saw Draco staring scrutinizingly at her. She turned to face him, staring straight into his eyes. He smirked at her. "What do you want, Malfoy?" she spoke for the first time since they saw each other.

Draco continued to stare carelessly at her.

"What do you want? Or are you just going to continue staring at me..."

"I'd rather not waste my breath on a mudblood like you... oh god, you're burning my eyes..."

Forgetting all pretense and all the comebacks she thought of, she raised her hand and attempted to slap the living daylights out of him.

With his quick reflexes, he grabbed her wrist, an inch away from his face. And at this, her sleeve fell down, exposing numerous bruises and scars. Draco's eyes went wide.

"Granger..."

End Notes: Soo, how is it? It's been a while and it's a little cliche, but at least Draco's not abused... like in some of the other stories. Here, he is a perfectly happy kid who embraces his father's ideals... well, for now at least. Eh, it's probably going to take me a while for the next chaper, since I'm just making things up as I go. But tell me what you think!