Disclaimer: I do not own the wondrous works of J.K.Rowling. I am merely borrowing the Harry Potter world. No money or profit is being made of any sort from this fanfiction.
Dedication: I dedicate this chapter to Ayaneva, who helped me with grammatical and Para graphical errors. And also To Jenna who is helping me with other issues concerning this fic. Thank you so much Jenna, you are a LIFESAVER babe!
A/N: This is the first chapter of All Is Not What It Seems that has been re-written and hopefully is better than it used to be.
Chapter One: Tears of Pain
The rain came thundering down from the sky, pouring down on the small suburbs of central London one evening. Hermione sat in a corner of her dimly lit bedroom, tears spilling from the corners of her tightly clenched eyes. She turned to look at the small brass clock her father had given her. It was nearly midnight.
Hermione glanced down at her arm; she gingerly touched one of her bruises. The memory of her father's death was still fresh in her mind. The way her mother seemed as though she didn't care that her husband, the love of her life ('yeah right' Hermione thought angrily) was gone. She could still recall the scent of the freshly dug dirt and the solemn looks on the few who attended.
A mere six months after her father's death, her mother remarried a man named Paul Jordan. At first he seemed kind, buying her mother small gifts and what not. But the moment that Anne Granger said, "I do", he turned into a bullying monster out for power.
Hermione was getting beaten up almost every day for little things like not making Paul's shoes shiny or not serving his dinner hot enough. She missed Hogwarts like a hole in her heart. Oh, how she longed for the day she would return home, to her real home.
Somberly she stood up before making her way over to the mirror, where she let out a long sigh. Her once pale skin was now battered, cut and bruised. Her pretty brown eyes had lost that sparkle they used to have. And she didn't feel like the girl she once felt she was; she felt different. Changed.
She moved back slowly over to her bed and sat down. Her eyes drifted over to a moving picture of her and her two best friends, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. She smiled at the picture as they all waved at her, but her smile quickly faded as she remembered the day it was taken. They were at Hogsmeade on Christmas day; it was the day Ron had confessed his love for Lavender and not Hermione.
Hermione at that point in her life had been head over heels for Ron and on the verge of asking him out. Of course when he had come to her proclaiming something of importance she thought her dream would be coming true. But the news of Ron's love for Lavender hit her with more force than she would have expected. She turned to the library and her homework for solace. And without Harry or Ron noticing, the 'Golden Trio' was swiftly growing apart.
When Ginny had approached Hermione and asked her to stay she first agreed. Thankful that she may get to spend a little time with her friends; but to no avail the next day Lavender came sprinting into the girls dormitories to tell Parvati that Ron had in fact invited her to stay at the Burrow over the course of the school break.
The next day Hermione declined Ginny's offer and said her parents asked if she would spend the holidays with her grandparents, as they were anxious to see her.
'Are you sure you don't want to come?' Ginny had asked.
'I must see my grandparents Gin; they haven't seen me in years' she had said and that was the conversation over.
She knew that Harry and Ron were the best friends she could ever ask for, but the way they just kept going on about their girlfriends was enough to make her sick. Throughout the holidays they had only sent her a letter once each; no doubt they were 'too busy' with Lavender and Ginny. Oh, how she had grown too loath the girls who had stolen her friends.
She thought about how her friends knew nothing of the horrid ways of her muggle household ('they would probably be too interested in snogging Lavender or Ginny to care about my problems' she thought irritably, the thought sadly prodding at her heart).
Harry and Ron, who would normally be writing to her at least three times a week, barely wrote to her once in the past month. She sighed.
'I don't want to think about them, I'm not going to think abut them,' she thought determinedly, knowing only that she would drag herself deeper into despair if she did.
She shook her head, banishing all thoughts of her old friends, climbed off the bed and lay down on her stomach on the cool wooden floor. She leant up on her elbows, touching the smallest of cracks in the floorboards, the crack that led to all the deepest secrets of her heart.
She pried open the floor board and reached her hand in the small space below. After a few seconds of blind grasping, her fingers found a small leathery bag and she pulled it out.
Replacing the floorboard carefully, she stood up and grabbed her towel off the back of her desk chair.
Hermione held her breath as she tiptoed her way to the bathroom at the other end of the hall, hoping desperately that neither Paul nor her mother would wake and catch her. Switching on the light, she made sure that the door was locked. Only then, Hermione relaxed.
It would have been odd to anyone else (it was, in fact, even odd to her), sitting in the bathroom when she had a perfectly nice room of her own. But the truth was that it was the only room in the whole house where she could gather her thoughts, gaining the peace and comfort her body needed now more than ever.
It was when the water reached half way did she turn off the taps and begin to disrobe. Bit by bit, she immersed herself into the water, gasping a little as it stung a small cut on her calf. 'Pain, something I should be used to,' she thought as she slid the rest of her body into the boiling water.
She relaxed for a while before sitting up and pulling her hair into a loose ponytail. She reached up onto the marble and grabbed the leathery bag, pulling it down slowly so it didn't make a noise when it touched the floor.
She untied the strings holding it shut and pulled out her diary ('the one dad gave me for my last birthday. I miss him so much,' she thought as she ran a finger along the smooth edge, tears in her eyes once more) and then a black ball point pen.
Flipping to the next page, she began her entry.
Dear Diary,
I'm sitting in the bath again at midnight. I hope he doesn't catch me; he'll just punish me more. I don't know how much more I can take before I explode. If only I was old enough to use magic. I can't get expelled! I'd die here! All Paul did today was sit on his arse and play stupid trivial games. I mean if he has nothing to do then why does he not clean up the goddamn house? He makes all the mess anyway. Every night at the dinner table Paul takes a mug of hot Earl grey tea. But tonight, in the rush of making dinner and serving them while it was still hot, I forgot the one-teaspoon of sugar. No guess as to that lead me. I don't know, maybe it's just me but every time Paul goes to hit me or slap me across the face, I get this weird feeling, like there's an aura of magic around him… I mean he couldn't be… Could he? No, I'm just overreacting about it. There is no way he could have any knowledge about the magical world. He's a daft muggle after all. I want to use magic against him! I want him to suffer! If I didn't have so much willpower, I would. But I can't get expelled from Hogwarts… Otherwise how will I survive? Five weeks until I leave for Kings Cross Station. Until then I shall put up with this insufferable man's torture and bollocks. Always and Forever, Hermione J. Granger. With that Hermione closed the diary and then leaned down to pull out the plug. She stepped out of the bathtub and grabbed her faded black robe and wrapped it tightly around herself.
My day was yet again uneventful; I stayed home and did all the chores they set out for me. Did their washing, hung it out, took it in, folded it and all the rest. Then cleaned out the pool filter, weeded the front gardens in the hot sun, mowed the lawn and watered all the plants. Dammit, I'm sick of being a slave to them!
Tip toeing back to her room, her heart skipped a beat in her chest and she froze. She heard footsteps coming from her mother and Paul's room. 'Crap' she muttered in her head. She stood rooted on the spot until she heard a toilet flush, and only then did she run back to her room.
After replacing the diary back where it belonged, she slid under the comfortable covers of her old four-poster bed. It was when her head hit the pillow she fell into a deep sleep.
A/N: So what do you think my little minions? Is it better or worse than the chapter it used to be? Longer isn't it. Oh well. Please read and review. Give me some comments.
Love
Kandy