Tears of the Heart

She waited silently in terror on her bed, feeling the time go by slowly as she waited to hear her father's footsteps coming toward her door. It was bound to happen; her father had returned home from a hard day of work, and had consumed a few large bottles of liquor. This is what had started at the beginning of the summer and had continued on throughout the full vacation. A few times he would pass by her door and move on to where her mother was, to hurt his own wife instead of his daughter, but most of the time he would come to her room to prey upon her instead. He often blamed it on her, since she was the "abnormal child", but she knew that it was just what the liquor did to him.

She was always left helpless, unsure of what to do; she did not want him to hurt her, but if it meant her pains instead of her mother's, she was willing to go through the terror. Beyond all things, she wished for her mother to remain unhurt; it was her own fault; she knew that she brought pains upon both her parents with her "gifts". They had to spend a fortune to send her to a school where she was taught things they did not exactly approve of; who would want their daughter to learn witchcraft?

Not only did she put these pains upon her parents, she also could not help them in any way; she was only a burden at home. They were often afraid she would blow something up, so they kept her up in her room where she could not do anything. For her own part, she preferred this; it meant that she would be able to finish all the extra homework that she had been given over vacation. However, knowing that her parents were afraid of her and also probably wished that she was not there was not a very comforting thought. The only consolation came from the remembrance of the good times that she had at her school, and the thought that she would be returning there in a few days.

Suddenly, she heard the footsteps she had anticipated; they slowly came toward her door, making the floorboards creak. She flinched as they neared and sat up in her bed. As she stood up, the doorknob twisted slowly. The door was opened, and a stream of light from the hall came through. Since her room was dark, she could only make out the dark outline of her father as the light shone around him. He walked sluggishly toward her, and she could hear the sound of his rough breath.

Once he had come within hitting range of her, he struck her across the face, while muttering, "You filthy little witch! Why we keep you in this house is beyond my comprehension! We should have rid ourselves of you a long time ago; you're no use to us!"

She held her head where he had hit her, while she tried to console him. "Please, don't do this! You know you'll just regret it later-"

She was interrupted as he punched her again, this time in the stomach. Doubling over in pain, she fell to the ground, as her vision started blurring. He continued to hurt her, starting by kicking her harshly several times, then grabbing her and throwing her against the wall. "You'll never go back to that stupid school if I can help it," he slurred. Finally, after a few more blows to the head, she was knocked into peaceful darkness that usually followed these painful meetings.

~ * ~

Hermione woke up as bright sunlight streamed into her room, blinding her momentarily as she opened her eyes. Pain immediately wafted through her, and she remembered the events of the previous evening. She attempted to sit up, and eventually achieved this, after many tries, and she looked over her body to tally up the wounds. By use of her mirror, she saw that she had a black eye (her right eye), a few cuts across her face and arms where her skin had been ripped by the ring that her father always wore, numerous bruises and imprints of his hands (her arms had large bruises from his tight grip and her face sported many bruises from where he had punched and stuck her), her stomach (after inspection from lifting up her shirt) had very large masses of black and blue from being kicked, and her legs had the same marks.

She picked up her wand (thanking God simultaneously that she finally had the privilege to use magic out of school since she had turned seventeen) and was fortunately able to hide most of the bruises. However, the marks on her face still stayed because it was such a tender area, and she feared that she might hurt it more instead of healing it. Once she had finished this, she brushed her hair and put on a new outfit which consisted of a tight-fitting jean skirt and a blue shirt.

As she walked downstairs, she wondered why the house was so quiet; usually the sound of her parents bickering resonated throughout the house. Once she had reached the table, she realized why. There was a note left by her mother and father, saying they both had to leave quickly because one of her father's old friends had died, and they needed to comfort the mourning family.

'Of course, they forgot,' she thought to herself, trying to hold back the disappointment and failing miserably. They had forgotten that this was the day that she would be leaving for Hogwarts for her seventh year. She had hoped that they would be there to see her off, but of course, they had forgotten. In her mind, she silently forgave them, as she usually did when they forgot something important; they had other things to deal with and they did not need to waste their time with her. It was not a pleasant thought, but in some strange way, it comforted her.

She grabbed something small to eat, ran upstairs to her room to get her trunk and other belongings, and started toward King's Cross Station.