A/N: i hope you guys like my new story, please review :)
Summary; Hermione has suffered some really bad things over the last few months, and her mother sees no other way to make her forget than to pull her out of her old school and move her to a new one. though, sometimes the things that you try to avoid always seem to find a way of coming back.
Disclaimer: i do not own any of this. it alls belongs to JK Rowling.
Chapter 1 - Hermione
"Hermione?" Hermione's mother walked in to her room and smiled as she looked down at her only daughter. She stroked her daughters long blond hair and watched as Hermione's blue orbs blinked back the tears that she had tried, in vein, to stop.
The last resort was to move away from where it had happened. She knew that her daughter would never get over the humiliation and pain that she had felt, but it was the best option that she had.
Leaving her in that school would have been handing her daughter her worst nightmare on a platter, she may as well have been saying 'I hate you!' So she had pulled her daughter out of the school and transferred her in to a new one.
Hermione had thrived at the posh, private school she had loved – that was, until the incident – and the only other choice for an education in the area was a school notorious for gangs and crime. But Hermione had insisted that anything would be better than 'Queen Vicky's death house for girls' (as her daughter had dubbed it).
So Coldwater Academy was the only choice. "You ready?" Hermione noted the calm, soothing tone that her mother had been using since it happened, and if she was honest, it annoyed the crap out of her. It seemed like her mother saw her as a time bomb that would just blow up. Hermione had crossed the line from good daughter to nightmare, pretty quickly and her mother kept hoping to avoid going back.
Hermione knew that she had to be thankful to her mother, and she tried to slap a bright expression on to her face, but she just couldn't.
Her mother didn't blame her, even though most parents would. It was hard to be mad when your only daughter couldn't stop crying long enough to eat anything. It killed her as she had to watch her daughter wither away, sickly thin, bones protruding from everywhere on her body. "Yeah, I'm ready."
No make-up graced her daughters face, but she was still unarguably beautiful. Though, Hermione knew how much of a curse her beauty could be. Hermione jammed a baseball cap backwards on her head and laced up her trainers.
Her mother had almost had a heart attack when she had come home to her daughter throwing all of her clothes out of the window – rather whorish clothes, the arguments they had through over her daughter's choice of wardrobe were laughable. But Hermione wished she had heeded her mother's warning.
She had transformed from one day to the next. Posh bags, ditzy tees and miniskirts were gone, and the new Hermione had graced the walls of the mansion that her mother owned. Pink walls were transformed to black, large jumpers covered the full chest that used to get her so much attention, and baggy jeans replaced the miniskirts and tight drain pipe jeans that she used to wear.
The transformation she had undergone was astonishing.
Hermione hoped that with any luck, she would be mistaken for a boy and would be completely ignored by the male population. After Caleb...damn, her therapist told her not to think of him. If anything, she was supposed to try and forget it all. She could feel the tears coming again, but her mother could only take so much, so to try and keep her mother in her sane mind, Hermione kept it all inside.
From now on, all she had to do was keep it inside her. No more tears. No more was she permitting herself to let her thoughts stray to him. He wasn't worth her time or energy anymore.
"I'm ready for a new start..." Hermione trailed off as she looked towards the door to her room. "How about you?" the idea that they would both want to stay in this place, stuck in a state of misery and depression, was laughable. But, Marie still found it hard to watch her daughter try to fight the tears and the pain. She wanted to pull her in for a hug, but she knew that if she did, she would never let her go again. And her daughter really needed to face this.
If there was anything she could do to make her daughter forget, she would. But until she found a lucky stone that could give her magic powers or a lamp that would give her three wishes, she was stuck watching her daughter leave the house and climb into one of the cars that sat waiting in the courtyard.
Hermione had no father. Well she did, but to her he didn't exist. He left them to start a new family with a slut that she didn't even want to meet. And for good reason too. She had been her father's mistress and then he left them.
She had to admit that she subconsciously knew that there was a strain between her mother and father for a long time, but she never thought that something like this would happen.
As she walked out of the house and chose one of the cars, she avoided the small black sports car and climbed instead in to a large black land rover – wishing all the while that she could roll over the swanky sports car and show her father exactly just how much it meant to her. After the incident, all he sent her was a car. Hermione assumed that her father had never been taught the lesson 'you can't buy someone's love,' but he soon realised after she stopped responding to texts and calls.
In the car she let one last tear escape her. As long as she could forget, everything would be ok.
With that thought she pushed on the accelerator. Thankfully she didn't stall the car and made it out of the driveway ok, knowing that one false move would have her mum dragging her back in to the house.
The school was a scary place. Gratified walls and boys sitting outside smoking gave her a rude awakening to exactly what she had gotten herself into.
Hers was the only car in the whole lot that had probably passed its MOT and was legally registered and licensed – correction, there may have been one other (a large blue Mitsubishi jeep). She reminded herself that she had to be strong.
Who was kidding, they would all have her already pegged as a rich bitch, and as soon as someone mentioned that she used to attend Queen Victoria's school for girls, she...well, she might as well dunk her own head into the toilet.
Her mum had forced her in to a nicer pair of jeans before she left the house, but her long hair was still stuffed under a baseball cap – it was a miracle when all the bushy brown hair disappeared) and she tried to add a harder edge in to her soft blue eyes to try and show that she wasn't to be messed with.
Not that it would help, she was a walking target for muggers and, well any asshole that wanted something.
With that comforting thought now resting at the front of her brain, she shoved her swanky mobile – another gift from her father – down her bra, thinking as she did so 'just let them try to get it now' and then pushed her way out of the jeep.
Maybe her mother wasn't joking when she said that the bullet proof windows would come in handy.
With every boy that passed her, she checked to make sure that Caleb's eye were not resting behind the greasy locks of hair, or the even greasier ball caps. Forget about him, he can't get you now; she had to remind herself with every step. Every footfall was like shattering glass in the quickly clearing lot, and she was soon alone.
Thankfully, she had made it to the office without so much as a glance, but she knew that there was no way that her good fortune would be able to last all day. The woman in the office gave her a glare before warning her that she should 'watch her back' and 'not mention her previous education'.
"I'm sure that the education here won't be half as good as the education that you received at Queen Victoria, but I'm sure you will be able to make it work for you," she looked down at the file before looking back up to Hermione's pale face that was losing colour with every passing second that was drawing her nearer to certain death – or first period. "Mother owns her own company, father managerial position..." she discussed Hermione's private life as if it was a good story, and like the girl living the life was not standing in front of her. "Can I ask why you moved from Queen Vee's?"
Hermione wanted to scream that it was none of the nosey woman's business, but she knew that would land her in detention before she had even stepped into the actual school – the office was the size of a portacabin loo and sat detached from the main school building. The person who had designed the school had obviously not liked the administration staff very much. And Hermione could now see why.
"Personal and classified."
"Oh, we have another mystery." She might as well have been popping popcorn and sitting back to watch her favourite film, with all the attention she was paying to Hermione's private life.
She had to resist the urge to roll her eyes and yell profanities, but she managed to politely ask, "Where do I go to for registration."
That seemed to jolt the dumpy woman back to real life and she handed Hermione a thin sheet of paper. It had lots of squares and times on it, and frankly...she had no idea what it meant. Before the woman could explain the sheet, Hermione's bra began to ring.
After she had fished it out, in a rather unladylike fashion, she managed to get a grip and press the answer button. "Mother?" she squeaked out the word.
The woman behind the counter could not take a hint, and sat, enthralled in the conversation, listening to Hermione's every word.
"I just wanted to make sure that you got there ok." Hermione resisted the urge to roll her eyes, and she reminded herself that while she had been going through a rough patch, her mother had to sit there and watch her fall apart.
"Yes mother, I got here alright. Though I have to go."
"Ok." Her mother sounded like she was losing her daughter all over again. It sounded like she was going to have to watch her daughter fall apart all over again. Hermione wanted to sprout some reassuring words that would convince her mother that everything was going to go back to the way it was, but she was at a loss.
"I'll see you tonight." She pressed the end call button and switched off the phone, before re-tucking it down her top.
The lady behind the desk smiled, "It was something bad wasn't it," she looked at Hermione, like she was trying to read every minuscule change in her features, "That made you leave Queen Vee's, it was bad."
"Give it a rest." Hermione murmured as she barged her way out of the room and crashed into something hard. Her first thought was 'why the crap would someone put a wall ten centimetres from the door,' but then she realised that walls don't have six packs – yes that was where her hand rested – and they can't talk either.
"Dude, when you have stopped feeling me up, will you. Get. Off. Me!" Hermione could feel her face blushing, the red creeping up her neck and kissing her cheeks. Her ball cap decided that it was the perfect time to fall off, and her brown bushy hair cascaded down her back.
"Oh, you're a girl." He smirked, tilting her head up with his long index finger. "I would let you feel me up anytime you wanted too." She jerked her head away from his touch. This was all the welcome to Coldwater Academy she needed to make her want to turn around and flop back in to the hole that she had been hiding in for the last two months. But it also helped to remind her that she needed to get back into normal life, even if it was going to be so strangely different from her old one.
"If you want to still have something to feel up, then I suggest you move out of my way before I do something that I regret." She pulled through some of that confidence that she had lost after it had happened, and she left him standing there – mouth agape. She heard his fist slam in to the wall after she had started down the corridor and hurried away before he could get over his embarrassment and follow her down the hall.
Authors Note : Hey guys, this is my first story for harry potter, so i hope that you guys like it. i am really excited for what you guys think so please review :)