Chapter 1

Hope Has Decayed

Why, Why, why

why is there so much pain

tell me please

why this goes on today

can't they see

what's happening

and the hope has all




The girl looked down at the glistening piece of metal in her hand. It made her feel clean again. She dragged it across the top of her thighs again and again and again. She stopped for a moment to look at the cross hatch pattern on her upper thighs, upper arms and stomach. Scars and scabs and bloody lines all weaving together.

She who was regarded jealously by the other females in hogwarts school of Witchcraft and wizardry. What a laugh. Perfect Prefect? She let out a sharp bark of cold, cruel, laughter. As if. She started up again. Her Guardian, Troy Metcalf, wasn't exactly the nicest man in the world.

You see, this little girls parents had died at the end of her fifth year. About a year and a half ago. That was when she had met Troy. Her closest kin. A seventh cousin or some such. She would have been much better off with either of her two best friends' families. Her two best friends. The controlled blank look on her face wavered for a moment as she thought about the two.

Ronald Weasley. Tall, red hair, Quidditch captain, muscular, keeper, hot. The second youngest child in a family of seven, and the youngest boy at that. Of course, there was only one girl in the family and Hermione was close to family. She couldn't do that to them though. She didn't want to impose when they had little enough money for themselves. Even if she was rather well off in her own right. Of course it was only Ron and his younger sister, Ginny at home anyway, which left lot's of empty rooms, but that's alright.

Harry Potter. The boy who lived. Gryffindor Seeker, wanted by multiple national quidditch teams. Loved By many. Tall, Black hair, emerald green eyes, sexy scar, wiry. He was an only child who had lost his parents so long ago that he barely remembered them at all. He now lived with his Guardian, Sirius Black. Sirius had once been in Azkaban, but he escaped and managed to prove himself innocent at the end of their fifth year, right after her parents had died. The girls eyes moved up to the mirror.

She was beautiful and she hated it. Her hair was now sleek and straight thanks to a curse thrown at her by her arch nemesis, Draco Malfoy, during her fifth year, right before Christmas. It flowed in a smooth wave to her thighs. She wasn't allowed to cut it. She glared at her reflection in the mirror. large, wide, chocolate colored eyes that were one of her best features even if they held a dead look inside; A pert little nose, straight until it turned up just a little at the tip; Pink lips that seemed to beg for kisses; a long slender neck atop a willowy body and ample breasts. How she hated it. She wished she had acne and was fat and had her old bushy hair back and the buck teeth. How could she have ever have gotten rid of those wonderful teeth?

All she was good for now was a play toy. If Dumbledore realized what was going on he wouldn't have named her head girl this year. It wasn't fair. She wasn't a role model anyone would want. Not that she was going to tell him.

She was to catch her beloved train tomorrow for school. Her last year. She had been blocking out everything for a while now. Since her parents death. Since she was forced to live with Troy. He had started out just touching her. Running his hands up her sides, touching her here and there as she passed, 'accidentally' groping her. She had shrugged it off. Then he had started to openly grope her. She had fought. She now knew that she had been trying to stop the inevitable.

Of course that wasn't really true, but she didn't dare admit that to herself. Somewhere in her subconscious she knew that she could have turned him into the muggle world or the wizard world and been safe, but she didn't have the will because she blamed her self for her parents death.

So now she was raped nightly, hit, slapped, yelled at, and used for whatever Troy wanted. She was also told to come 'home' for all holidays. No matter what was going on. She was Troy's plaything. He used her and lent her to his friends. They encouraged her in the self mutilation, finding it amusing for some reason. She stood after adding a few more slices along her skin and walked to the bathroom in her black underwear and matching bra. She took a cloth and wiped off the blood. Troy didn't like her all bloody If she was that would only mean that she would be hit. She walked back to her room and pulled on a pair of stretchy black yoga pants and a long sleeved black baseball tee. She walked downstairs as she heard a car door slam shut and waited at the foot of the stairs. She stood silent as Troy and one of his friends came in.

"Well Hermione, I decided that since this is your last night here, I'd make it special," He grinned as he held up a bag of take out chinese. She carefully avoided the gaze of Creg, Troy's friend.

"How are you deary?" Creg asked. She hated Creg with a passion. He enjoyed pain with sex. He acted so nice and decent out of the bedroom, but as soon as they were there he lashed out.

"Dinner first for me, you go with Creg," Troy told her with a wave of his hand. Creg took a hold of her arm and dug his fingers in as he led her upstairs. There was a 'guest' room that was only used by her and Troy's friends. They walked in and he threw her onto the bed. He leaped down and pinned her, ripping her shirt down the front and grinning at her sheer black bra. She knew not to fight or cry out during this part. He walked over to the dresser and opened the top drawer. He pulled out a rope and a knife. He tied her hands to the head board and sliced the front of her bra so that her breasts were exposed. She had bite scars on them from this particular dog. He left a faint scratch on her skin where he had cut the bra. She didn't move at all. She hadn't hurt at all. He started to rip the pants.

"Troy is getting tired of having to buy me pants all the time," She told him. He growled and stopped what he was doing. He brutally pulled her pants down and slit either side of her panties. She shivered, partially in fear and partially from the shock of suddenly being naked. He pinched all of her soft spots and she winced in slight pain. He pulled off his belt and flipped her over onto her stomach, twisting her arms uncomfortably. He slapped the belt over her back multiple times. At least Troy had banned the whip that he used to use. That one had left scars, this would only leave welts. After He was done, about fifteen minutes later, he flipped her over again, and pulled off his pants. He mounted her quickly, leaving pain behind. Twenty minutes later he got off her growling. He hadn't cum once. He tore off part of her shirt and used it to gag her before picking up his belt and started to slap her on the newly formed cuts. She screamed in pain, the scabs breaking apart and him rubbing them open even more every now and then. He mounted her again and ten minutes later was done. He stood up and dressed before undoing her hands to leave her to herself.

She hadn't spilled one tear. That was something she wouldn't do in front of those animals. Being violated so often she had grown cold to them and refused them the satisfaction of seeing or hearing her cry. She would cry out in pain, but that was half in self defense. They hurt her more when she refused to cry out in pain. It was the way the sick fucks worked. She stood and walked across the hall to the bathroom and stepped into the shower. She turned the water to scalding and watched as her skin turned pink from the heat. She let the tears fall then. Where no one could see them and they wouldn't leave a tell-tale mark.


Damia - "I know, dark,"

Wren - "Hopefully it touched you,"

Solatina - "This fic will have Rape, Abuse, Suicide attempts, Self mutilation, Hate, and love,"

Damia - "I don't own anything that you recognize,"

Wren - "Please Review,"