Each day of the past six weeks of summer feel like a faded memory. Such as a memory that someone remembers from when they were three or four. You remember only pieces, but never the entire thing. That's what each day was for me. The strange thing was that I did not know where I remembered it from. They were much more like dreams rather than a memory. Except in my dreams I always saw the same two, red eyes. The eyes mirrored mine, excluding the extreme glow. Each night I went to sleep the eyes became much more clearer. Once they even shifted from red to icy blue. I felt like they could read into my very soul. None of which, makes any sense.
Anyhow, summer was coming to an end fast, yet time seemed to go by slow. Especially the day my parent witness me levitate a scone from the kitchen or the day after that when I accidentally brought down an entire shelf without even touching it. "I only wanted another book. I did not mean for the entire thing to fall." My parents remain silent, staring at the knocked over bookcase. "I'll clean up the mess." Dad lifts his hand and steps in front of the bookshelf. "Perhaps it's best if you go to your room and allow your mum and and I to fix this." I went to respond, only for him to direct me to the staircase. "Upstairs, Hermione!"
Running up the stairs, I stop at the top, out of their sights. "I thought this ended years ago." Mum cries onto Dad shoulder. "We were wrong, obviously." I hear them, mostly Dad, picking up the shelf. "Someone msut to know something about this." Mum suggest. Dad hushing her worries. "She grew out of it once. I'm sure she'll do it again." Mum sniffles. "And if she doesn't?" Dad remains silent, causing Mum to cry harder.The following afternoon, the mail came. One letter in particular was addressed to me, turned my house upside down.
--------------------------------To say that my parents did not take to the news of having a witch in the family is an understatement. My mum bawled her eyes out at least three time in under ten minutes. Dad of course that it to be a scam. Me, looking for an explanation for the strange changes I'd been through, found my answer. Once professor Dumbledore came to our home the next day, I was sold. It took him three magic spells and two hours of explaining to convince my parents they were not losing their minds. I'd surprising grown rather bored with the conversation. The feeling of deja vu began to arise once more. I'd heard his speech already or atleast I believed I heard it before.
I spent the last hour of his visit alone, in my room, reading a book. Once he was goneI snuck to the top of the staircase to spy on my parents. "A witch. We adopted a witch." Mum urges my Dad to keep his voice down. "This isn't the way I planned for her to find out." Dad waves off her concern. "She will learn the truth, whether you want her to or not." Mum sighs, agreeing with him. "We must make this transition for her as easy as possible. She must'nt think this makes us love her anyless." My Dad does not verbally agree, only nods his head. And I could tell my mom dearly hoped he kept to his word.
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However, over the next few weeks leading up to me leaving for Hogwarts, I sensed a change in my Dad. He faked his smiles and forced his laugh everytime I brought up something I founf interesting about Hogwarts. He pretended to be proud for mum's sake, but I saw through his facade. I found things to keep my mind my mind off my Dad faltering affection. Our trip to Diagon Alley opened a new field of learning for me to decend upon.We strolled through the busy street that was occupied by multiple children, all who I assume to be shopping for their Hogwarts supplies as well. I the place was compacted with wonderful store, I thought to exist. And their book collection continues to surprise me to this day. Mum was in complete awe of everything from the moment we arrived. Meanwhile, Father appeared less impressed, and more disturbed by our new surrounding. His negative energy was not going to effect, so I separated from my parents first chance I recieved. My parents were intent on keeping to the required lsit, but me being me, shopped for my own personal collection to buy.
While wandering the large bookcases, I bumped right into someone. I fell flat on my but as a platinum blonde man, finely dressed man stood over me dusting himself off. "You, child, must watch where you are going." He never even bothered to upon me until he felt his fabrics wer clean enough. I wanted to shout at him for his rudenes, but saw that it would do me no good to argue with some stranger. "I apology, sir." Once he finally does look upon me, he pale skin turns even paler, if possible. "Are you alright, sir?" I step forward to lend him a hand, but he jumps back. "You...you..it can't be." Now it was my turn to step back as he began to panic. I rush away to my parents sides, books in hand and ready to buy and move on to the next shop.
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"Hermione, how many times must I say not to speak to strangers? You have no idea who or what that man is or could have done to you." Mum looks over me once more for the third time since we left the book shop. "Mum, I told you nothing happened." Dad did not even bother to interject, making me feel as if he did not care. We arrived at our last stop for my wand. A day I recall with very little detail, fore my Dad rushed the process, thankfully I able to find the perfect wand in under an hour. "45 minutes we were in there. Wand after wand after wand after wand....and to what avail? A stick that is the replica of the previous four you tried? I mean, honestly!"I bit my tongue the entire ride home. Dad ranted about every little thing he despised about Diagon Alley, Hogwarts, the supplies and even the people. When we reached the house I grabbed as many of my supplies bags as I could find, along with my new cat and ran to my room. Ignoring the arguing of between my parents, I began chapter 1 of my first textbook, "Hogwarts: A History" The first of the twelve books I studied to prepare for my depature to Hogwarts. I fell asleep reading that night. When my eyes closed, the red glowing ones reappeared, except this time with a voice to match.
"It's rising...."
YOU ARE READING
Born Into Darkness
FanfictionHermione grew up as the perfect normal child. Expect for by age five her parents knew she was not normal. Unless levitating objects, making things happen with a single thought, or performing tricks no other child her age could was considered normal...