A/N: Song- press song! If you want. Song!;
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*Warning*
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There might be a use of magical swearing... ya know, the M-word, but it's censored :)/
The girl had discovered a whole new world. A hidden one from everything she ever knew. Her life was changing, for better or worse she did not know. She discovered a place full of magic. Now she would start going to the school for witchcraft and wizardry.
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Now, at eleven, she had been laughed at and made fun of. She had only tried to be true to herself without revealing anything from her horrible personal life. She had just started a wonderful new escape from her father only to be called a nightmare.
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The girl could remember the ginger making fun of her with a boy who looked so familiar to her. She had remembered he went to school with her before but because of her home situation, she couldn't remember well and she wasn't recognizable.
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She had cried a lot when she heard the ginger call her those things. She cried so much that she did not notice when a troll came in. When she did realize it was there, she was saved by the two boys. Then the girl had become their friends and they grew close.
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/•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•\
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Now in second year, the girl was now with Harry and Ron (her best friends), and the Gryffindor and Slytherin Quidditch teams. The girl glared at the blond boy in green who apparently bought new brooms for him and his team.
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"At least no one had to buy their way in. They got in with pure talent" said the girl. The Slytherin boy turned his attention to her and walked towards her. She hid any fear that he might hit her and held her ground.
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"No one asked your opinion, you filthy little mudblood" said the blond who called himself Draco Malfoy. She continued her glare but gulped, as she remembered reading that word in a book. She couldn't really understand what it meant other than 'muggleborn.'
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Those words, however, made her feeling more miserable once she found out what it meant. Dirty blood. Someone who was a Muggle born. It was ever since then that she was called that foul term. Ever since then that she called herself that.
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/•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•\
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Third year, the year Hermione he had a lot of classes to deal with. She tried to focus on them instead of having to constantly be reminded of her father and everything he had called her. Everything he would do. Everything he had done.
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Sometimes, however, the words slipped into her mind's focus. She kept hearing his voice calling her a stupid, ugly, pathetic, worthless piece of filth. Sometimes she would wake up in sweat from nightmares about what she would do to her at that moment.
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Now she was in the Gryffindor common room trying to study her notes she took for potions. She was starting to confuse some of her words as she read. Somehow reading her father's horrid things he told her. Words like 'grow up and face the facts. You have no future.'
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The poor girl couldn't concentrate that well and she had more things to worry about that year. Her new cat, Crookshanks, has gotten into some drama with her friend, Ron's, pet rat. She never really grew fond of the ginger. All his family, even his boring brother Percy, got along with her better.
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/•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•\
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Fourth year. A year no one would ever forget. The year of the Triwizard Tournament with Harry Potter mysteriously chosen as a fourth champion. The girl remembered the Hufflepuff named Cedric Diggory who had been nice to him. Or at least that's what she observed.
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It wasn't until the day of the tournament's third task that she had been depressed so horribly that she would barely find motivation to her up from her bed. That day was horrible for everyone but especially for her. That day was worse than any time she was beaten.
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She had gotten a letter, one that had been written from her father. One that said her worst fear, the thing she dreaded most, had come true. That day her heart was crushed and she didn't have anyone to comfort her. That was the day she found out her mother had died.
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Now she sits in the Gryffindor common room on the armchair closest to the door that was the portrait. All the Gryffindors were sad about the death of Cedric Diggory but were happy about Harry's win in the Triwizard Tournament. They all stood and sat around Harry, trying to distract themselves from the innocent Hufflepuff that was dead, and the person Harry claimed who had been responsible.
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"Hey, Harry! Mind if I take a picture?" A third-year had asked the famous scarred boy and took a photo anyways. The girl recognized him as Colin Creevey. He was a mudbl**d like her. His little brother had started school and was a lot like him. Obsessed with the-boy-who-lived; the only survivor of the Dark Lord.
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"Hermione, do you think you can help me with our Potion's essay?" The very much praised boy-who-lived was trying to distract himself the most. He'd been there to witness the murder. The girl turned her head to the scar-headed boy but her heart was beating fast and she was starting to forget how to breathe. "Sorry, I need some air" she responded.
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She stood up from the armchair and quickly exited the common room. "Just where are you going?"
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Of course, it was "The Fat Lady" that guarded the house's common room and sleeping quarters.
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"Nothing, just need some air" she muttered in the silence that followed.
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"Well hurry back, you wouldn't want to miss the celebration"
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She clearly didn't know that everyone inside was almost as upset as she was.
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The girl couldn't disagree more, but didn't respond. She simply continued her walk out of Gryffindor Tower.
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When she reached the very last step of the staircase, she heard someone walking by. She tried to see who but she didn't get a chance because the person's voice stopped her.
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"And what are you doing, Granger?"
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It had to be him?
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"None of your business, Malfoy" she said angrily.
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"Why? Gryffindor things? Are you looking for something to worship Potter for his lame victory?"
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She growled under her breath. "Or maybe getting a love potion for the Weasel?"
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"Shut up Malfoy!" she said trying not to explode her anger on him. "Why? Are you actually going to find a love potion to use on the Weasel? Are you actually going to make him love you? He's a bloody idiot. He couldn't identify a dragon from a mandrake if he tried. It makes me wonder how he even gained friends" said Draco.
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"Shut the bloody hell up, Malfoy! You don't even know anything. Stop assuming what I'm doing and leave my friends out of this!"
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He scowled at her but soon replaced it with a smirk. "What's the matter? You're upset about friends? You don't even have any"
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"What are you even talking about, Malfoy? You know Ron and Harry are my best friends" she said clearly confused by his choice of words.
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"If they were your friends at all, wouldn't they be with you protecting you? Making sure you don't get attacked by another troll or something?"
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She was dumbfounded and couldn't think up a response right away. "I can protect myself just fine, Malfoy" she finally responded.
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"Can you, now? You may have managed to break my nose in third year but that doesn't mean you can defend yourself" he acted like if it was the most obvious thing.
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"Malfoy-" she started, about to argue.
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"Granger, face it. You are a weak, dumb, filthy, pathetic excuse of a witch. You are a stupid stubborn Gryffindor freak. You are the stupidest Mudblood to ever exist. You don't even deserve to live a life with magic. No one even likes you. Just go die" shouted Malfoy, the arrogant.
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She took a deep breath. She couldn't believe that those words could hurt that much from a stuck up pureblood. No, scratch that. She couldn't believe that those words could hurt as much as it does coming from her father. She didn't think anyone could say such hurtful things.
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Instead of replying or showing any sign that she was affected by the words, she simply turned around and walked away. She walked back to Gryffindor Tower. She didn't feel like going outside anymore. As much as she wanted to escape, she would simply just hide.
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"Where are you going, Granger? You going to cry? You going to complain about it to your dumb, lame excuse of muggle parents?"
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She was only a few feet away from him. She flinched when she heard "parents" and started to run to Gryffindor Tower.
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Draco thought it was funny that she was running away. He laughed as he watched her go. He observed her brown locks of hair bouncing through the air as she ran.
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For a second, he thought she looked beautiful. Then he snapped out of his thoughts and scolded himself.
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Meanwhile the girl thought that every one of his words were true. He was the only person who had called her those things other than her father.
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She had always told herself it wasn't true. She tried to make herself ignore her father's words and not believe it.
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Now she knew it was true.
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When she finished running up the long stairs, she ran to the portrait and without wasting any time she said the password.
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"Dear, is everything alright?" She looked up at the painting for only a second before she ran inside the open entrance.
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No one seemed to pay any mind to her as she ran to the girls' staircase. Not that she expected anyone to care about her. She knew no one would ever care about her. When an arm suddenly grabbed hers, she swiftly turned around.
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She didn't expect to see Harry grabbing her arm. "H-Harry, let go of me" she stuttered trying to release from his grip. "Hermione, what's wrong?" He noticed the tears that were threatening to spill from her eyes. "Just please let go. I'm not in the mood for anything" said Hermione.
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Harry kept his hold on her and observed her carefully for a few seconds. "Can you please just tell me what ho did this to you? Who made you cry?"
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She ignored his question and pulled her arm away from his grip successfully before she ran up the stairs and to her dormitory.
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Harry was left dumbfounded and a few people noticed and tried to ask him what was wrong. He simply couldn't respond because of how Hermione acted.
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She seemed very upset and unhappy. She was nearly crying, and he'd never seen her cry. She seemed almost vulnerable at that moment.
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Hermione was now in her dormitory, crying her eyes out. Everyone was in the common room, so no one was there to see nor hear her cries.
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She didn't let herself cry too much though. She still didn't want to be weak, even when alone. She didn't want to cry at all. She didn't want to live at all.
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She quickly changed into some pajamas and tried to fall asleep on her bed. Hint word: tried. It was always hard with all her pain hidden from everyone's eyes.
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Even alone, she tries to hide her pain. She felt like she was exactly what her thought of her. What Draco thought of her.
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Hermione couldn't stop some of the tears from escaping and they rolled down her face. She but her bottom lip to prevent herself from letting out a sob.
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No matter how loud everyone was in the Common Room, she still didn't want to risk one little sound to cause someone to find her.
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She eventually did fall asleep. It was hard, with her broken ribcage, but she was used to it by now, and fell asleep.
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Not peaceful, but sadly. She didn't forget her letter. She didn't forget the fact that all she had now was her father.
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Y'all are the best, don't ever change. Until next time potter-folks. (Next time with a jaw dropper 🦈 ! Or two...)
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