Just Hermione

Prologue

They're knocking now upon your door,
They measure the room, they know the score
They're mopping up the butcher's floor
Of your little broken hearts

A soft breeze blew past her sending shivers down her spine and causing goosebumps to rise on her skin. But still, she smiled in content. She had always welcomed the cold. Somehow it was kinder to her than most people were with the way it would blow her untameable hair around in every direction as a reminder that she wasn't completely alone. Somehow it always managed to get colder and the wind would pick up when she was upset. It was as though it felt her emotions. 

Slowly she swung on the old swing. No one else was around, they didn't like to go outside when it was cold, another reason why she preferred the cold. The old swing whined in protest as it had for years. No one knew how old it was or long it had been there for but most people believed it was put there the same time the orphanage was built. The swing was the only entertainment the orphanage offered. They had no TV, no radio and no toys. The only books that were there were the ones that she found and kept hidden underneath her blankets. She had a room to herself, although it was more like a very small office, as none of the other girls liked her and they would always complain about her when she shared a room with three other girls. No one wanted her, they despised her, they always had. She never knew why though. It must have been something about her aura that made her different too. The nuns didn't particularly like her either. They liked to pick on her the most, serving out the harshest punishments to her and humiliating her in front of all the other girls. She had scars on her body from them. None that required medical attention but enough to remain there forever, serving as a constant reminder that no one liked her and she would never feel loved as a child should from their parents. Whenever a couple would come to the orphanage and express interest in adopting a child, she would be forced to stay in her room with the door locked, not allowed to make a single peep until the couple had gone. It was those times that she would silently cry to herself. Just another reminder that she would never feel the love of a parent. Her own parents didn't want her, abandoning her as an infant at the doorstep of the orphanage with nothing but a piece of torn paper that stated her first name. Hermione. They were too ashamed to give her their last name.

The closest she ever got to feeling loved is from a nun, Marie, who was there for just over three months. She was kind to her, never punishing her or throwing insults her way. She would read to her at night - that's how Hermione learned to read and developed her love for books - and brush her hair every night and morning. She would always make sure there was enough food for Hermione too, never wanting her to go hungry. For a time Hermione thought - no, hoped - that Marie would adopt her and they would get to live happily ever after, just like what happened in Matilda. But she didn't. She died in a car accident on her way back from visiting her family. That had left Hermione absolutely distraught. She was just 7 at the time. And it was then that her "gift" kicked in. As she had cried herself to sleep the night of learning of Marie's death, it began to snow. It wasn't that it was snowing that was strange but the fact that it was snowing in the middle of summer. When she awoke the next morning the ground was completely blanketed in white, not a patch of grass or concrete to be seen. She had to be the one to shovel off all the snow from the pavement unsurprisingly.

The strange happenings didn't stop there.

When the other girls were mean to her bad things would happen to them such as doors slamming in their faces, windows shattering on them, their feet falling through the floorboards, and, Hermione's personal favourite, a girl's hair catching fire. But that's when the girls stopped talking to her altogether, opting to whisper behind her back, send glares behind her back, and make her life even more miserable without actually speaking to her. Rumours about her started to spread and the word "freak" was being used a lot more.