This story is finally finished with its reconstruction and ready for proper viewing! Expect new chapters soon! (Edited 7/22/2014)
"Dad, what are you doing?!" she screamed in terror as her father pounded on her door forcefully. Her heart beat furiously in her chest as she cowered on the opposite side of the door from the crazed man. Slunk way down at the foot of her bed, she looked around her room helplessly, clutching the front of her shirt frantically while trying to think of what to do. Her brown eyes darted all around the room, praying for any kind of savior. Her eyes landed on her wand briefly lying on her bedside table, but immediately tore themselves away as the banging became louder. She didn't understand what was happening. She didn't understand why her father was behaving that way. It took everything in her power not to let out a helpless sob. She trembled as the loud banging continued.
"What do you want?!"
"You listen to me!" his muffled roar came through the door as he stopped banging on it. Breathing a small sigh of relief, she crawled from behind the bed to look at the door. From the looks and sounds of it, the frame wasn't going to hold out much longer. "I am your father! You will listen to me and open this door! You're only making it worse on yourself!"
Tears streamed down her face and soaked the front of her shirt as she tried to form some kind of reasoning for her father's actions. She opened her mouth to try and reason with him, but no words could escape her lips. Realizing there was no talking him out of whatever rage he was in, she opted instead to quickly stumble across the room and crawl beneath her desk, taking sanctuary underneath it. When her father heard no replies from her, he resumed his attack on the door, now obviously intent on breaking it down. With each loud bash of his fist, she flinched in terror, not knowing what was to come if he successfully broke down the door.
Something deep in her mind nagged at her, screamed at her that she could save herself. There was something that she could do to stop it. Yet, try as she might, she could only focus on the fearfulness coursing through her body. She could practically feel the man's rage, incinerating the energy around them. She was alone, and there was nothing she could do.
Trying to gain control of her unrelenting shaking, she couldn't help but jerk wildly as the telltale crack! of the door frame giving out resonated through the room. Within seconds she felt a rough hand snatch her by the wrist and drag her from her hiding spot. When she screamed and resisted, he wrenched on her arm harder, pulling her shoulder out of place. As the pain coursed through her, she sobbed outwardly, loosening up her resistance just enough for him swing her around and slam her onto her vanity. Her injured shoulder collided with the large mirror, causing the glass to shatter and rain down upon her.
She barely felt the little nicks and cuts as she turned to face him, and was absolutely terrified to see her father's harsh green eyes burning into her own. Not quite finished struggling, she kicked her legs out at him, hoping to land something debilitating. She had no such luck, however, as he grabbed her legs and forced her back on the vanity atop the broken shards of mirror. She cried out as the broken pieces sliced into her back as he applied pressure in holding her down. His gaze was sinister, and with only a snarl, he grabbed a handful of her skirt and yanked hard, pulling it away from her with obvious intent.
"No! Stop it, stop it!"
Her resounding voice in the small room woke her from her nightmare. Sweat was beaded up on her forehead and running down her face. Her breathing was quick and shallow, her eyes wide and fearful. The cold dorm's air wafted over her perspired skin, causing it to rise as she shivered uncontrollably. A moment later she began to calm herself, realizing it was only a dream she had been terrified of. Just a dream. She wasn't near that man anymore.
Nonetheless, she was still incredibly shaken and trembling, and unable to keep the tears at bay. She was still as fearful, no matter where she was. She sobbed her terrified sorrow into her pillow, panicking at the memories that haunted her.
No one could her screams, but unlike her dream, she was glad of it. No one could hear her cries and knew nothing of what went on in her mind. It was the only good thing about Hermione having the solitude of the Head Girl's dormitory.
No one was there to hear her scream.