Not what you thought
Not what you thought
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Prologue;
The real Hermione
Granger.
Dear Die-ary,
Hermione
Granger… To almost everyone, that’s who
I am. But, the truth is…
Well join the party, because that’s a constant state of mind for
me. I took her place when I was eleven,
after she, along with everyone else at the private school died.
You see, I
started atteg thg this muggle school at age eight.yes\">
personality, and how you learned. If
you qualified, you could go to the government’s Advance School, where they
would work on your mind, one on one, and help you achieve full potential.
see your test results, which was reason enough for me, Aphrodesia Sin-Claire to
take it. That and the principal made it
mandatory. I had no worries; my family
(or rather what was left of the deranged bunch) was too poor to even consider
getting me in, besides the fact I was their personal slave.
My mother
was a nice sane woman-that is until the love of her life died.
my parents with adoration as they took me to wiccan rituals and taught me about
the Goddess. They were the perfect
parents, and powerful wiccans. I’m
quite sure Hogwarts would have been on their knees, begging, for them to be
students had they not been Americans.
The wizarding community detested Americans, and aside from the diplomats
or stationed witch families that had moved to America well after 1950, no American
was allowed true witchcraft, aside from Wicca.
All the
other Americans of magical ancestry
were the odd balls, criminals, people who started and joined uprisings, and of
course, certain breeds of creatures that had been casted out of the wizarding world.
reduced human level of skills and abilities.
Metabolisms slowed, thinking was harder, instincts blinded, and born
weak-in all senses of the word. I was
lucky enough to be born to the lot of all the aforementioned classes-and thusly
lived a half-life. Yay.
After my
father died, my mother lost the last hold on reality she had.
brought home a drunk, abusive replacement.
That’s when my life started going wrong.yes\"> Every night I was beaten and raped.yes\"> The sadistic bastard had ‘morals’ though, and because he was so
‘religious’ and self-righteous, he never took me vaginally.
basement, and when I was a really good girl (meaning daddy dearest had his
house cleaned top to bottom, enough work out of me, and got his cannabis that
morning) I got to attend school.
Luckily the
night before I hadn’t angered my father, and didn’t interfere with his ‘bout with
mother, so I got to take the test.
Which proved to be a curse, rather than a gift when I got a letter of
acceptance. It’s odd, really.
internationally) and the letter said I ranked highest in testing for my age
group, along with ranking over the people two years older than myself.
trying to spend all of ‘hard earned’ money, and after giving me enough welts
and broken bones to hospitalize a body builder, he threw me into the dank
closet he called my room. I was there
without food or drink for three days until he let me out.
When they
had sent the first letter, he had ranted with pencil, and paper about how
idiotic they were for even suggesting the idea, and how they’d never give me up
anyway-not because they couldn’t let go of their ‘lovely child’, but because
they could still get work out of me when I was still here.
begged him to let me come-and they offered to pay him for his troubles as
well. Half a mill a year.
retrieve me two days later.
Two days
after that, I met my savior, and best friend, Hermione Granger.
books. We had a lot in common-aside
from backgrounds. We were joined at the
hip, and excelled at the top of the class.
During the summer, and other government mandated school breaks, I was
given special permission to join Hermione and her parents.
wished to contribute to society and learn.
Hermione and I were like sisters, and her parents treated us as
such. The arrangement was bliss for
three years. Then Voldemort screwed it
up.
He sent his
deathrs trs to my school, to have a little ‘fun’, which entailed of:
Killing/raping my friends, destroying my sanity, and wrecking my new life.
wasn’t pissed. I was in hysterics…
circle. Of course, it wasn’t much of a
circle-me being the only member, but it worked.yes\"> Kinda.
I Drew out
the pentacle, circled it with salt, and lit a candle.yes\"> I prayed to the goddess, but I didn’t ask to be saved.
The screams were already getting to me, and I begged of one t, an, and
one thing only. To take away their
pain, and ease them in their passing. I
hadn’t expected it to work. I hadn’t
expected the screams to stop. I
definitely hadn’t expected the pain that they ever felt in their life to be
absorbed into me. Their lives soared
into me, all connected by pain. Pain
that consumed me. When the Deatheaters
eventually found me in the highest tower, and put two and two together, they
were beyond mad. They were pissed, no,
scratch that. They were bloody
enraged. Despite the fact I was having
seizures, eyes lolled to the back of my head, and bleeding from every orifice,
they wanted to punish me. I’d like to
take the time to laugh at them for a second.
Mad eye
Moody chose that time to come along and cursed them to death-no pun intended
there; he actually killed them. He
waited for me to calm down, and explained that he could do one of many things
to help me. He could erase my memory,
or let me keep the memory under the pretense I followed whatever story he
concocted to explain the mess. He said
I could go home afterward. Hmmm, lose
more of my mind, or keep the pain. Either
way I’d have to go home now.
I begged
him not to send me home-told him what happened.yes\"> He held me as I cried into his chest, totally and completely
silent. When my cries had been reduced
to barely audible sniffles, he breathed a sigh and gave me one last
option. I could change my body to be
anyone from the school. I would live as
them, and he’d change their body to look like mine.yes\"> I knew beyond a doubt who I’d be.yes\"> Hermione Granger. He made
the change, and told the new Aurors that had arrived that he’d already used a
memory spell on me.
I went to
Hermione’ parents, who accepted my different personality as an aftereffect of
what had happened.Hermione wasn’t an
American. Hogwarts sent her a letter.
magickal bindings, they never suspected a thing as a casted spells.
and his sister, Luna, and many others.
I was a good actress. I became
addicted to the academia though. When I
wasn’t studying the craft, I was reading college level material and testing out
of classes for them. pan>pan>By the end of the
summer leading into Sixth year, I had a masters degree from every career and
job possibility in the muggle world.
Hermione’ parents were impressed and proud, which only made me feel more
guilty.
I resumed
in taking every class available in the sixth year; Harry, Ron, Ginny and
everyone else had been slowly, but surely drifting away from me.
peaceful solitude. I took up private
physical training and arts over lapses of boredomyes\"> Now the summer leading into my seventh year is coming to a close
and once again I’m scared. Mad eye
Moody was taken by a group of deatheaters a month ago, and was found dead
yesterday, with blatantly obvious signs of torture.yes\"> Mad eye was always trustworthy, and I knew he hadn’t told me
secret to anyone. He had promised me
so…But I still felt the worry that he had told, perhaps not by choice, but he
had told. I don’t want to give up
another life. I just got over my own
pain-and I wasn’t ready for more. What
can I say? I’m not a slut for pain.
Morbid Always,
Aphrodesia Sin-Claire
Aka Hermione Granger
1\'> I sighed and put my quill down on the cherry-wood
desk. With a final disparaging look to
my Book of Shadows, I put the leather bound volume into my bag, with the rest
of my things for Hogwarts. Currently it
was six in the morning, and it wouldn’t be for another half hour until
Hermione’s parents woke up, and another half hour until we left.
I eyed my
head girl badge on the table, and began tracing the lettering with a delicate
touch. Funny, it seemed, that I was
looking forward to the solitude of my own room, rather than looking forward to
seeing my friends. I was bored, yet
extremely lethargic. I yawned one last
time, and hastily pinned the ever-so-shiny badge onto my dull black cloak.
picked up my baggage and went downstairs to the kitchen.
Joe…er…Coffee.
~*~*~*~*~*~*
A/N: Okay, if it
totally sucked like I think it did, you can tell me, but please add
constructive criticism. Plain old
flames will keep me up all night wondering what exactly it was that I did
wrong… Save me a few sleepless nights
and tell me what you didn’t like… But
hey, if you liked it, YAY!!!! By the
way, I have a plot formulating in my head for where the story will go, but I
need to know whether or not it’s worth continuing.yes\"> Please, read and review!
*~VirginSuicide