Summer of Change (GxG) - A Hermione Fanfic

Chapter 1

It was 1998, and it was over.

The war.

It was finally bloody over.

But something in me had...

Died.

Staring at myself in the mirror, I ran my hand over the scar that ran over the right side of my face. It was big. Too big. I looked disfigured, gutted, but I guess that was the point. I had gotten it along with the scar on my arm. Both wounds seemed to ache and bring me agony.

Do you know what it's like to be Crucio'd?

Well, I do.

The pain that emanates from these scars is the same as if someone had cast a lesser version of the curse. Not the same as the real thing, but it was still painful in its own right.

I didn't complain, though.

I was a bloody Gryffindor - even if I didn't act like it these days - and I would be damned to let that bitch break me.

That's what I told myself anyway.

I was already breaking.

Moving from the mirror, my good eye focused on the scar on my arm that reminded me...

Every.

Single.

Day.

What I was to certain people. What I was to purebloods. What I was to her.

Bellatrix Lestrange.

I looked like this because Bellatrix fuckin' Lestrange captured me.

Harry and Ron had just nearly escaped the Death Eaters' clutches, but I wasn't so lucky. Bellatrix caught my arm just before I had the time to flee. I still remember that feral smile she shot me and her dragging me off to their dungeon.

My left eye focused on the right. It looked... cloudy. I was practically blind in my right eye. No amount of healing potions had any effect in healing them. Bellatrix used the same cursed dagger for my face and arm. This was the first time I had the courage to really look at myself in the mirror, and I felt bile rising in my throat.

"You've got to be kidd-"

I cut myself off to run to the toilet and heaved all the contents of my stomach out into the toilet bowl. Everything was just too much. The memories combined with the pain combined with my current mental state triggered the response.

Sounds of me retching echoed off the tile.

"Merlin's saggy balls that burns!" I shouted, punctuated with a coughing fit to end the ordeal.

Slowly pushing myself up off my knees and off the toilet seat, I stood on wobbly legs and made my way back to the sink, where I vigorously washed the inside of my mouth, brushed my teeth, and used a special cleaning spell for good measure.

I was a Muggle, after all. I had a tendency to combine the two worlds.

Lifting my head, I saw myself again and grimaced but pushed down the bile that was rising again. There was no trace of the old me. I truly looked like a war-torn soldier.

Me.

Hermione Granger.

A soldier.

Or should I say an unwitting one? Does it matter anymore? Yes... yes, it does. I am still so... angry. I was just a child for Merlin's sake who was fighting for grownup problems, and have been since my first year. The younger me just wanted to learn everything I could about magic. I was so entranced by it all that I didn't see the larger plan that was laid out for me.