A/N: I know the chapter's short, but you know me and chapter length. What I think is long is actually pretty short. This chapter isn't really an informative chapter, it's just to lay the basis out. You've got the prologue, and now you've got this one. Now I've laid all the foundation out, the story can begin after this. You can kind of see what's been going on and how the story will take place. Pay attention to how Hermione talks to Becca, and her thoughts. I'll explain next chapter. Enjoy.
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Hermione lay in her bed with the lights turned off and her door closed. She had her eyes open and she stared up at the ceiling. She could hear Michael and her mother arguing, as usual. She sighed and rolled over on her side facing the wall.
She knew her mother was probably drunk, maybe even high on drugs. That was something new Hermione just figured out about her mother, or maybe it had always been going on, she just never knew it.
Her mother took pills, what, Hermione didn't know. But when Hermione had come home from the store with Becca earlier today, she saw the empty pill bottle on the kitchen counter. She knew why people had pills, for pain. And her mother wasn't in any physical pain.
Hermione grew angry at this thought. Her stomach clenched and she closed her eyes. She rolled back on her back. What pain would her mother be in anyway? Emotional? It's her fault anyway, all her fault she's in this situation she's in. Hermione felt no sympathy towards her mother; she blamed everything on her mother.
It was her mother's fault why her father had left. It had to be. At least, that's what Hermione had convinced herself. She wouldn't believe her father would leave her, not her. Her father loved her. He loved her.
If he loved me, why would he leave? She thought. Hermione pushed that thought aside. She didn't want to think about that. Obviously it was her mother's fault. There was no other explanation for it. And since her mother married Michael, it was her own fault if she was in any pain. Hermione scoffed at the thought. What the hell did her mother know about pain? Hermione scowled in the darkness. She deserves all the pain she gets, she thought. She felt no remorse at the thought.
It was quiet in the living room at the moment. She knew what they were doing now. It seemed to be their ritual: Get drunk, fight, have sex, one or both of them would pass out, then wake up, fight, and then have either one of them or more often sometimes both of them storm out of the house and leave Hermione and Becca to wake up in the morning to an empty house.
Not that Hermione was complaining. No, she'd rather it be quiet and be alone than hear fighting and be surrounded. She looked at her clock on her nightstand. 2:43 A.M. She sighed in relief. It was too late. She rolled on her side once more, ready to fall asleep at ease.
She closed her eyes, ready to dream about being home at Hogwarts with Harry and Ron. She shifted uncomfortably at the thought. Even though she loved Harry and Ron, sometimes she felt uneasy around them, since they were both boys. She wondered why she didn't have any friends who were girls. Sure, she talked to them, but she just thought it was strange she wasn't close to any girls. That's not true she thought, but she pushed that thought out of her mind before she got depressed.
Hermione was about to drift off to sleep when a sound like glass breaking jerked her awake from sleep. She listened, heard nothing, and closed her eyes again. She heard her door open quietly.
She wrenched her eyes open and felt her breath quicken. Oh no no no. It was too late. Right? She closed her eyes and pretended to go to sleep. Hopefully he'll get the hint. She felt her bed lower as though someone was climbing on it. She grabbed her rosary from under her pillow and held on to it.
"Mione?"
Hermione sighed in relief and her body relaxed. It was just Becca. She opened her eyes and turned over to face her little sister. Becca was holding a stuff dog and her eyes were wide and her hair messed up. She looked adorable.
Hermione cleared her throat. "Yeah?"
"Can I…sleep with you?"
"Why?"
She saw her sister shrug. "Mum and Michael keep banging at the wall. I can't sleep."
"Did they wake you up?"
"No. I was already awake." Hermione sighed and moved down. "Okay you can sleep here." Becca smiled and pulled the covers over her.
It was quiet for a little while. Hermione felt her eyes close. "Hermione?"
"What?"
"I've been thinking."
Hermione struggled to open her eyes. "About what?"
"Maybe I can go to your school with you."
Hermione's eyes jerked open. "Why do you want to go to school with me?" she asked cautiously.
She felt Becca shrug. "I miss you that's all." Hermione sighed in relief. "And besides," she continued, "Mum doesn't really talk to me. Only Michael. I really like Michael, don't you?" Hermione paused before answering. "I don't know. Not really. Go to sleep."
"Why don't you like Michael?"
"Go to bed!"
"Goodnight."
"Goodnight."
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For the second time that night Hermione's door opened. Michael stood at the doorframe; his body silhouetted by the light, making him seem darker and more intimidating. He brought his beer to his lips and drank. Becca was sleeping with Hermione. Michael shrugged and closed the door to go wake up their mother.
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