A/N Hello loves! This is my first Harry Potter Fanfiction. I'm not sure how this will do but if you like please let me know! This is a heavy prolog. I'm sorry. Trigger warnings. This will be a dark story. There will be times it is lighter but please keep that in mind when reading. This is also a Dramione fanfiction. Love them. Well with that all said enjoy!
Disclaimer None of the characters are mine, they all belong to J.K.R!
Everyone tells their children that they are special, and only a few of them actually are. Hermione Jean Granger happens to be one of the few. Her father, Robert Granger, also happened to be one of the few. He was raised to be the perfect son, kind, courteous, strong and quick witted were a few he was taught early on. As soon as he could get away from his parents he did. The way he was taught he refused to ever tell anyone. He ran away into the Muggle world and tried to escape his parents. With nothing but a few coins and his witt he ran into a young woman, Jean, who was also escaping someone. They ended up falling in love and both worked hard to go to school and open their own practice for dentistry.
All this to say they ended up with a bundle of joy a few years later. She was everything they wanted. She had no hair when she came out but that soon fixed itself. Her hair was a big bush of curls, a deep chocolate color that came from her mother and beautiful brown eyes that were endless for someone so young. As soon as she was born her parents knew she was special. They didn't know how much until later on.
Hermione was just a small thing, no older than six months, when she first showed her how special she was. It was a bright and sunny day out and the small family was outside enjoying the fresh air. She was out on a small blanket, belly down waving her small fists at blades of grass as they swayed. Her parents were watching her with smiles as she did. Her face scrunched up in concentration as let out a wail, the air started to swirl around her and lift her up an inch off the ground.
"Hermione!"
Her mother screamed as she raced over to her. As soon as she got there it stopped. That was the first of many odd occurrences that went on in her young life. Her mother, not knowing what to do, looked to her husband for help. He simply stared at their daughter in shock. Slowly he walked over to her and picked her up. Looking to see if anyone saw, seeing that no one did, he motioned for his wife to follow him inside.
As the couple settled into their dining room the air around them was thick. Robert cleared his throat in the hope to prolong the conversation. Jean gently took Hermione from him and gently bounced her on her knee. Robert caught his wife's eye and knew nothing good was going to come from prolonging this anymore. He had hoped to never have to have this conversion but life seemed to always hate him.
He gently explained to her that he was what was called a squib. A non magical being born from two magical parents. He also told her that their daughter was a witch. To say that didn't go well was an underestimate.
Jean carefully put her baby girl down on the floor on top of her baby blanket. She looked at her husband and said that she loved him and that she will do everything in her power to help him. She picked up her phone and called her friend, who happened to be a psychiatrist. Within a few hours Robert was being ushered into a white van being told that everything was going to be fine. He screamed for his daughter for days on end. Begging to see her, just for a minute. He didn't care if he was in here. He just wanted his baby girl.
Years went by. Hermione only saw her father once a year on his birthday. She often asked her mother why he couldn't come home. Jean always told her it wasn't safe. Hermione was four when she next had her accidental bit of magic. She was watching her mother make dinner for them when the older woman burned her hand on the stove. Jean let out a yelp of pain and shook her hand in the air as she ran to the sink. Hermione jumped out of her chair and ran over to her mother and made a grab for her mothers hand. Jean let her grab it while the water was running cold, her hand had already started to swell and angry red. Hermione's eyes widened and her mothers hand started to glow a golden color before it completely healed.
Jean was very good at ignoring all the signs of a magical child. She refused to see what her husband had been telling her and she refused to admit that she may have been wrong. She didn't want to think about the fact she may have wrongly locked her husband away. She started to tell her daughter that magic wasn't real. She told her everything had a reason and was due to science. There was no such thing as magic and there never would be. One plus one equals two, right was right, wrong was wrong, there was no in between. At night she would cry herself to sleep thinking of her husband. She missed him dearly but she refused to let him be right. If she couldn't be special then no one could. Her daughter was going to be normal. She had to be.
Hermione took what her mother said to heart. She was normal. She wasn't special. Her hair, her grades, her eyes, her height, her love, her magic…. None of it was special. So she scolded herself if she thought differently. She was six now, she got to read on her own and she would, all the time. Sometimes she would dream that she was special and then wake up to her mother reminding her that she wasn't. She was normal.
Hermione woke one night to the sounds of her mothers cries. She was used to it now, every once in a while she would wake to her crying in the night. She knew there was nothing she could do so she quietly snuck down to the kitchen and poured a glass of water. Gently creeping back up the stairs she heard her mother snoring. Pushing the door open she set down the glass of water and stared at her sleeping mother. Tears were still spilling from her eyes as she slept. She knew her mother would have a sore throat after crying, she always did. Always. Her mother was special. Hermione knew it. Her mother took care of her all by herself. She wished she was….
It was another year, which means Hermione got to see her father. She smiled up at the man as she sat across from him. He was watching her with tears in his eyes, looking in her endless brown eyes. Her mother sat stiffly beside her as she told him about her grades and classes this year. Jean sighed and looked down at her hands with tears in her eyes. She didn't want to keep doing this. She couldn't keep seeing him, but she didn't want him not to see their daughter either. She stood and faced her baby girl.
"Hermione, I'm going to see the waiting area out there okay? Talk to your daddy for a bit. When I come back we'll leave."
Hermione nodded her head as she faced her father once more. She hadn't been alone with him before. Her mother always kept a watchful eye on her. Roberts' eyes widened as Jean walked out. Quickly before she came back he grabbed his daughters hands. He told Hermione that she was special. She was a witch and that there was magic and that she would one day go to a special school. Hermione watched him with scared eyes as he told her about the magical world. Her mother told her magic wasn't real. She knew that she had magic. She constantly fought to keep it down, keep it hidden. She was supposed to be normal. As she listened to her father she shook her head with tears in her eyes.
"I'm not special."
His daughter said it with such conviction. It hurt him to the core to hear the words from her.
"You are. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."
Hermione let the tears stream down her face as she tried to remind herself that she wasn't and that he was wrong. He had to be.
Another year went, she was eight now. This year there was no visit to her father. When his birthday came and went she had asked her mother.
"I don't want him around you anymore." was the only answer she got. So she didn't see her father. And she wouldn't again.
Robert watched the clock as the time rolled by. They should have been here by now. The nurses ushered him back to his room as the visiting day ended. He cried that night. The next day came and went with no word from Jean or Hermione. He sat on his bed as the days flew by and turned into weeks, then months, then years. His soul was broken, he just wanted his daughter to know she was special. That's all.
Jean got the call on Hermione's 11th birthday. Robert hung himself. Jean looked down at her daughter as Hermione blew out her candles with a small smile on her small face. She hung up the phone and kissed her on the cheek.
"Come on baby. I'm taking you to Grandmas for the night."
Hermione diligently followed her mother. She loved her grandmother Dilia, she was smart and let her read all day. She watched and waved as her mother drove off.
Jean never came back. Dilia had seen the look in her daughter's eyes, she was scared of the look but did nothing of it. She regretted that day for the rest of her life.
Hermione asked where her mother was. She had cried for days when her grandmother told her she had died. She did everything her mother asked so why wasn't she here? She sobbed and wondered if she had caused it. She hated everything. She let out a scream and the electric flickered on and off. She was face down on the bed as she let out another sob. Everything around her started to float and dance around her. Her hair sparked with magic and her body was pulsing with it. She felt all of her emotions overwhelm her. Without knowing she became an Obscurus. Her magic collapsed in on itself and tore through her. She slammed around the room bouncing off the walls and tearing through everything she touched. She hated it, she hated herself.
She wasn't special. She wasn't magical. She wasn't anything.
