This idea has been sitting in the back of my mind for a while but it's basically fanfic of a fanfic. I'm not going to italicize the different languages as I learned that it is not actually okay to do that. I'm constantly working to be respectful to all people I represent in my stories. Honestly, all I had to go on for presenting deaf characters was my American Girl books which I don't even own anymore.

I learned with representing sign you would present it as any spoken language. So if a nonverbal character has 'said' under the dialogue tag, they aren't magically being verbal it's just a tag and I'll try and make sure y'all are clear on when sign is used and when spoken language is used.

Blind people say, "Nice to see you"

Non-verbal people just say things with their hands.

Challenges: Short Jog; Click Bait It (Y); Ethnic & Present; Neurodivergent; Tiny Terror; Quiet Time; Winter Wonderland; Rian-Russo Inversion; Letter of the Day; Old Shoes; Interesting Times; New Beginnings; Loneliness

Space Address: B2 - Dust

Word Count: 1501

Warnings: Severe bullying and emotional consequences of the bullying.

Seven-year-old Hermione Granger looked up at her new home with intimidation. Her house in London was a terraced house with an olive door and she loved it dearly. This place was a Victorian style house on the edge of town detached from all the others. It was tall with red brick for the ground floor, white brick for the first floor, and a brilliant lapis blue roof with white trimmings. With the snow it looked more like Grandfather's model city for his model trains. He always had a special one for Christmas.

"Well, certainly a bit bigger than our home in London, isn't it?" said Mum, exiting the car.

"Property value is lower out here," said Dad. "But just think of how much room you'll have to play, Hermione. Maybe you'll make a friend."

Books made just fine friends for her. Her parents saw the look on her face and laughed.

"Now, now, I know things weren't so good at your old school," said Mum. "But we're getting a new start here in Ottery St. Catchpole."

That was the understatement of the year.

"Why don't you go on in and pick your room?" Mum suggested. "The movers will be along shortly."

Hermione nodded, tucked her lip under her teeth, and whistled for her dog, Winona. The Parson Russell Terrier bounded out of the car and followed her master into the house. The little girl was half expecting something covered in dust and with an eerie air like her stories, but her parents had the place professionally cleaned before moving day.

That didn't make the interior any less interesting. Mum said that it was art nouveau inside. Hermione traced her finger along the swirls in the iron and admired the colorful stained glass. She rounded the staircase and climbed up to the first floor to explore the rooms. The one marked in red tape was her parent's room. She turned around and gasped sharply at the gaping mouth of a lion.

Oh… it was a fake one attached to the bannister of the staircase. Hermione patted its head and walked away, when she looked back she did a double-take. She could have sworn its mouth was open just a moment ago. She must have been seeing things.

Hermione poked her head into rooms and opened a door to a staircase. Winona sped up them and Hermione followed to a tower. The room at the top was circular and had a bathroom attached with a sink, toilet, and clawfoot tub. It must have been very difficult to get a tub that size up here.

The room itself had tall windows, the majority of which were stained glass with butterflies and flowers and then two plain windows that opened to a balcony. Built in the walls were bookshelves. It must have been a study but it was so wonderfully secluded and magical that she couldn't help but be drawn to it. Yes. This was her room. She ran downstairs to her parents who were carrying in boxes while the movers brought in the furniture.

"Did you find a room?" Mum asked.

Hermione nodded and signed enthusiastically, "Upstairs. The tower. It's beautiful! I love it!" She made a fist, kissed the back of her hand, and pushed it out with a wide grin.

She beckoned for them to follow so they could approve it. After all, they might say no out of fear of her falling off the balcony.

"Oh, how beautiful," Mum breathed. "It is a bit smaller than the other rooms, but if you wish this to be your room then it shall be so."

Hermione grinned and hugged them. She didn't typically like physical contact, but since she was mute she often showed affection physically. Mostly through hand-squeezes or bumping her head against their leg.

"Now that this is all settled," said Mum, "how about you and Winona go outside and play while we get everything brought in?"

"Yes, Mum," she said and waved her hand for Winona to follow.

It wasn't actually that difficult to teach the dog commands in sign language. Hermione had been learning it for as long as she could remember. She was born unable to make sounds beyond soft grunts and wheezes. Not even crying. So Mum and Dad's deaf friend, Dahlia, taught her sign from infancy and made sure her parents knew it too. It would be a bit difficult now that they were so far away, especially in regards to new words, but surely somebody in this small town could sign.

Unfortunately, her mutism made her an easy target for bullies. They were of the notion that if you couldn't speak up, you couldn't very well defend yourself properly. It was amazing how horrible people became when they didn't think there were consequences for their actions. It wasn't even just the students in her year, it was the older kids as well during lunchtime and recess. It started off with them pretending she was invisible. Then they moved on to name calling about her curly hair, brown skin, and lack of ability to speak. Then they started pulling on her hair or taking her things. Before long, it escalated to where she could no longer hide her injuries from her parents.

She doubted it would be any better here, but the smaller town would make it easier for her parents to keep an eye on her. They'd be able to intervene faster with bullying assuming the teachers even cared.

Winona barked, startling her out of her negative thought spiral. Hermione furrowed her brow and wiggled her forefinger from side-to-side by her head. Winona spun around in a circle.

Oh. Play.

Hermione took the tennis ball out of her pocket and threw it as hard as she could. Winona chased after it and brought it back, her long legs kicking up snow. Looking on the horizon, she could see three other houses amongst the wind-breaking lines of trees. One looked like three smaller houses stacked precariously on top of one another, one looked like a miniature castle, and the third was an Edwardian manor flanked by a massive barn.

She kept walking, minding not to stray too far and, upon reaching the top of the hill, saw a group of children having a snowball fight. If she had to guess, she would say all the pale-skinned, freckled redheads were related. There were about seven of them, the youngest slightly younger than her and the oldest being around sixteen. There was also a brunette older than Hermione, a blonde younger than Hermione, and an older boy with a sandy complexion.

"Look! A dog!" the little redheaded girl called, pointing to Winona.

"Be careful, Ginny," the eldest boy called.

Hermione timidly walked towards them, trying to gauge their reactions towards someone new. A boy with glasses ducked a stray snowball, which unfortunately made the only path towards her. It smacked her in the face and knocked her clear on her back.

"Ooh! Heads up!"

Sitting up, she saw a few of the older boys walking towards her. She scrambled to her feet and ran away in a panic, Winona hot on her heels.

"Nice, Ron."

"I was aiming for Percy!"

Hermione hurried back home and sat on the porch to wait until she could come inside. Winona whined and licked her cheeks. Figured this place would be like all the others. Not even here for ten minutes and she got hit with a snowball. What was next? Rocks? They were sure to recognize her at school on Monday.

Mum left the house and looked startled to see her.

"Oh, you're back already?"

Hermione clenched her fists and shook them by her shoulders while mouthing, "cold."

Mum smiled and nodded.

"Well, all your things are in your room if you'd like to warm up in there. Just be mindful not to get in the way."

Hermione went inside and retreated to her room. There, she opened up the box with her decorative stickers and went about pasting them on the door and wooden panels in her room. Then she opened her balcony doors to let out the musty smell. She realized she could see the playing kids from her perch. They seemed to have moved on from snowballs and were making snowmen and snow angels instead. She was too far away for them to notice, thankfully. Well, she thought.

The little blonde girl stopped what she was doing and waved at her. Hermione backpedaled into her room and shut the doors. She busied herself by shelving her books until she was called down for supper.

By then the movers had gone. Dad ran out and brought home takeaway. It made no sense to cook since everything was still in boxes. Hermione poked at her macaroni while her parents talked about The Plan. How they were going to be more involved in her life to make sure that she didn't have a repeat of London.

She didn't dare to hope.