The black embroidered dress with a matching a black hat clung to the teenaged girl with great ease. The girl with her straight flowing dark brown hair with one or two stray curls stood near a weeping willow tree in the back, waiting for the ceremony in front of her to end. Her face was a grim line and her eyes a big void in the evening sky. Today was the day she was suppose to be sad, sad that one of her parents died, sad that there wasn’t a perfect family anymore. But no, Hermione Granger felt no remorse. She knew she was sad in the inside, broken and crippled, but on the outside she needed to be strong. Her father stood in front of all the people and mumbled his prayer and the audience stood and started to depart.
Her father walked swiftly to his car that was parked close by and drove off. Hermione was disgusted. She knew where her father was going, to his girlfriend’s house. After all that was the reason her mother committed suicide but everyone else thought she died of natural cause. After her father lost interest in her mother, he began to have affairs with other women, and when her mom found out, Hermione’s dad abused and threatened his wife.
Nothing was working for her, her mom was now dead, and she started to wonder why her mom hadn’t taken her with her. Every night her dad would come home drunk and abuse her, and she had the scars to prove it.
Through all the times that she was thinking this, she realized it was getting late, but realized her feet weren’t going to budge so she stood there in the open air, thinking back to everything that happened.
Her moms death, her dad having affairs, her dad bringing in friends, and even the new look she gave herself didn’t help her cover up the scars. She remembered on a certain day her dad brought in a bunch of male friends while she was in her room changing. To her horror several of the males tried to get close to her and even tried to rape her. That night she had taken more than four showers and scrubbed her body until she smelled blood. She still held dirty.
Even her friends which were far, far away from her couldn’t save her. If she had told her friends, they would be mad that she didn’t tell them earlier. Harry would suggest she tell Dumbledore while Ron would go mad at the idea of older men raping her. She let out a laugh on that thought. And Malfoy would just make fun of her, and call her even worst names.
Her face changed emotions and she became sad again, and then as if the weather understood her, it changed from the windy breeze to pouring rain. As her hair clung to her face and her dress to her body she started to cry. The tears began to pour mixed with the salty rain.
“Why me…” she mumbled to herself. “Oh just kill me,” she said, a little too loud as her lips started to bleed.
“Ah Granger…didn’t know the mudblood wanted to die that soon,” said a cold voice.
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