You are Worthy of More
Chapter 2 - You are Worthy of More
Hogwarts - March 1995
She squeezed her eyes shut tightly, head coming to rest on the stair case as she gripped it. Trying desperately to keep her breathing hollow if only to avoid breathing in another lungful of dominant, aggressive, disgusting Alpha pheromones that surrounded the halls no matter where she went.
She could never get away from the scent, it was permanently engraved in the air. Cloying and sickly as it demanded all those not of Alpha status bow down to their 'betters'. She was a powerful witch, Hermione knew that. Far stronger than anyone in her year, far brighter and fat more intelligent too but she knew better than to show anyone that she could withstand the majority of Alpha pheromones she came across. She had learnt very young that she could fight the need to submit when assaulted by the demanding scent. Yet doing so had always brought her pain. Pain in the form of fists that would connect with her fragile body, with no concern as to the damage they would leave in there wake.
She hated the scent, hated having to submit to all those 'more worthy' despite the fact she was far better, magically and intellectually than any she had come across both in the muggle and in the wizarding world.
She wished though that she could find anywhere, anywhere at all she would be safe to relax, to breathe without that cloying scent bombarding her senses. Forcing her to submit for no other reason than she would be beat if she didn’t. Such were the expectations of being an Omega.
She had ran here from the Great hall. Desperate for even a minute to breathe away from Harry. Away from Ron and away from the ever present watchful eye of the headmaster. When she had come to Hogwarts she had hoped this would be a fresh start for her to grow and learn in a place where she would be free from harm. Her hope had been so very short lived.
Upon arriving she had been sorted into Gryffindor house, she had been ecstatic when she realised her head of house was the kind Alpha - Professor McGonagall - who had been so generous with her. But Harry Potter was an Alpha, his fast friend Ronald Weasley was a beta and Hermione quickly found that views of Omega's here in the wizarding world were no better than the way the muggle world viewed them. To make it worse for her she had no magical family to protect her. She was a muggle born, a mudblood apparently and because she had no wizarding family to protect her from the worst if the treatment like Ginny Weasley did she was subjected to the worst of the abuse.
She was quickly shown her place as Harry's Omega. Her job was to please him, to protect him and she had lost count of the many many times she had been forced to risk her own life to save his and Ron's. From facing a troll and a dark wizard to facing werewolf’s and now she was carrying him through the Tri-wizard tournament.
She knew if he failed or was seriously injured it would be her too suffer. She was responsible for ensuring he knew what he needed to know to survive and win. The head master, professor Dumbledore had made that clear. He had already faced a dragon in the first task and fought gryndylows in the water of Black lake for the second task.
All that was left was the finale and Hermione dreaded it. She knew it would be the most dangerous. The task most likely to bring her pain when Harry got hurt because he would. He was supposed to be the boy who lived. He was the wizarding world's hero, the prophesied saviour that would defeat the dark Lord once and for all. He had survived the 'evil' man's killing curse as a baby and as such Britain had hailed him. Worshipping the ground he walked on as if he were some sort of messiah. Yet Hermione knew he was nothing special. He wasn't very powerful, nor was he very bright. He hadn't been the one to defeat the dark Lord as a baby, Hermione knew. She had heard the stories and as she was the brightest witch of her age she had figured out that the only reason he had survived that killing curse was because of his mother. His Omega mother, who's sacrifice of unconditional love towards her baby had created a protection around an infant Harry, saving his life. The only proof he had faced the dark Lord lay in the form of a lightening bolt scar on his forehead and the bodies of his parents laying upon the floor of his nursery.
She knew she needed to try find somewhere to hide, Harry had been in a particular bad mood today and like her father Harry had the habit of taking out those particular bad moods on her. She still had the bruised ribs from his last bad mood, she didn't want more to add to the collection.
"Ello, 'ermione right?" The soft sweet voice accompanied by the soothing scent of lilac and rosemary startled her from her internal panic. She glanced up nervously, expecting to come face to face with new torment at the hands of this new Alpha. The soft, concerned expression on the blonde Veela’s face as she stood in front of Hermione, was perhaps more frightening than the looks of disgust she was used too. It was jarring, the only Alpha ever to show her kindness was McGonagall and that was in secret when the older woman tended to her wounds and made sure she was fed, effectively mothering her whenever she could get Hermione away from prying eyes.
"Eet iz alright, I do not vish to 'arm you, I want to help. Please if you vould, follow me" a tender tone and an offered hand and as much as she was weary, as much as she was fearful of this French woman - Fleur Delacour one of the rival schools champion - she knew better than to refuse an Alpha when they asked something of her.
She took the offered hand and let herself be guided up the stairs.
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Hogwarts - June 24th 1995
Hermione curled herself up the best she could on the soft carpeting beside the lit fire. Greedily drinking in the heat emitted from the soft orange flames as they danced. Casting a gentle orange hue around the cosy little room she had conjured for herself as she willed her body to finally stop spasming so hard, the all too familiar after effects of suffering the cruciatus curse wracking her already beaten body.
She knew it was unfair, so very unfair for her to have been held responsible for what had happened. There was no way she could have known Bartimus Crouch Jr was posing as Alastor Moody. No way she could have known he had created a port key out of the cup that would take Harry to a grave yard in little Hengleton unprotected and there was certainly no way for her to have known the dark Lord would rise once again tonight. She couldn't have known.
And yet just like predicted she had been held responsible. Her failures had been the cause of this all. Apparently. She knew that was a load of hippogriffs dung. She was only fourteen how was she supposed to know everything, act against everything and protect the boy who lived from everything. It was an impossible ask and for the first time in her young life she felt the beginnings of anger seep into her mind. Anger at the injustice of her life, anger at the situation and anger at those around her that saw her as nothing more than their little mudblood slave.
Fleur had shown her this room many months ago, told her to use it whenever she needed safety or a break from her daily torment. The room of requirement had indeed become her sanctuary. The room able to conjure anything she so desired. From books, to food, to a bath and clean clothes she could access everything and the best thing was no one could get to her in here. No one could enter with the intention of causing her any sort of harm. She had willed it to be so and therefore the only two people who could likely enter were Fleur and Professor McGonagall. The only two people in this world she trusted.
Ever since Fleur had led her to this room Hermione had spent every moment she could. Immersing herself in the literature, spells and histories of the magical world. Teaching herself everything that she could. It surprised her how quickly she took in the new information, even more so how quickly she grasped the new spells available too her. Unfortunately though, short of brewing herself a pain potion and a muscle relaxant there was nothing she could do about her current state until the tremors subsided.
As she drifted off to sleep, secure in the knowledge that she would not be harmed any further for now the Veela’s words whispered softly through her mind.
Words of encouragement and hope she had long ago lost as a first year muggle-born Omega trying to survive in the nightmare that was to become her Hogwarts Experience.
"Ze way britian works is archaic and barbaric. Eets the last to practice such vulgarity. You deserve better 'ermione. You are worth so much more zan ze way zey treat you".
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Hogwarts - January 16th 1996
"Why can't you ever do anything correctly, stupid bloody Omega mudblood" Ron's voice is taunting as he looms over her, his face red with anger, almost blending his skin in with the ghastly red she had come to associate with the Weasleys. Harry laughing as he watched on from the side-lines. Ron having decided to push her as they came out of their fifth year potions class while Hermione walked past.
"You're useless, honestly don't know why Dumbledore says we need you around" he spat, aiming a boot at her ribs. She braced herself for impact, trying to both simultaneously relax and tense her muscles to minimise the damage she knew he could cause her body. Gritting her teeth against the anger she felt spike within her. The anger was becoming a constant companion for the young brunette. Buzzing pleasantly, simmering gently beneath the surface of her skin as if it meant to wrap her up safely. Though none had noticed its appearance besides herself.
The anger had begun to grow from that night in forth year where Fleur had led her to the room of requirement. The more she educated herself the more it grew and she wondered just how long it would take to burst forth.
She muffled the cry of pain that wanted to escape her chapped lips as his foot connected with her stomach. Not willing to show him just how much he was hurting her because she knew her pain only ever excited them more than it did gain her any leniency. As his foot came towards her yet again she was suddenly pulled up onto shaky feet and placed behind a body wearing the Slytherin greens.
"Honestly weasel don't you think you're going to kill the weak little mudblood if you keep at it, your precious Dumbledore surely wouldn't be happy to lose such a clever little servant now would he" Draco Malfoys words were harsh, spat at the red head boy. Insulting to both Hermione and Ron yet she couldn't understand why he had interfered. The brief flash of concern and sly wink he threw at her making it clear that he had deliberately stepped in to save her anymore harm.
It was confusing but she dare not question it, regardless of his reasons for protecting her - a mudblood, everything he and his family (purebloods) hated she was grateful all the same. Her bruised stomach and battered arms especially so.
"Miss Granger, yet again you're at the heart of all the trouble. Detention now, the rest of you off to dinner" Professor Delores Umbridge called as she entered the corridor, her voice sickly sweet and Hermione found herself letting out a breathe of relief. The odd woman who wore solely pink was here at Hogwarts by order of the ministry to keep an eye on Dumbledore and Harry, Hermione assumed. She had sensed a growing tension over the last year between the ministry and the schools head master. Caught quiet discussions of outdated and barbaric views between more and more members of faculty. She could sense Harry and Ron's dislike of the woman despite how nicely the professor seemed to treat all students that weren't Omega's in the public eye.
Yet despite Muybridge’s outward favoured treatment of all those deemed worthy, especially the purebloods she had been kind to Hermione, often finding an excuse to get her alone, using detentions as a cover for giving Hermione proper food, time to bathe properly and often giving her a few hours to rest without having to constantly pamper to the demands of Harry and the other Alpha Gryffindor students.
Once the hall had cleared Umbridge ushered Hermione towards the stairs that led to the professors office a supportive arm wrapped around her waist. Gentle hands guiding her to a chair once they were safely inside behind the closed door.
"I'm sorry..." The ministry woman began but Hermione couldn't bear to hear it. After so many years of constantly struggling to stay alive in a world that treated her as less than human, sorry was no longer good enough.
"No" she cut Umbridge off mid sentence, her voice sharp and tired all at once and Umbridge seemed to get it, after blinking owlishly for a few seconds in surprise at the usually quite girls sudden protest, realisation dawned on her face and she nodded solemnly.
"Alright. Just take the time you need before re-joining the others" Hermione's only response was a small flicker of a smile in appreciation.
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June 10th 1996 - Granger Residence
Hermione tried desperately to hold back the tears in her eyes as she sat at her mothers bedside. Having been called home by her father that morning because her mother had taken seriously unwell.
Her mother lay in her bed, covers wrapped tightly around a shaking, sweaty body, concealing everything from the chin down. Her face was sunken, ashen looking. Her eyes looked hollow and glassy, red rimmed and teary as the Omega woman looked up at her. She had never seen her mother look so ill. So ill Hermione knew she wouldn't make it through the night. Beaten and bloody sure, but ill? Never and as much as she despised her mother, as much as her mother had never offered her an ounce of comfort in her life, Hermione couldn't help the painful pang of loss that gripped her heart as she looked at the woman. Grief already growing in her already angry, fearful and oh so weary heart.
Not grief for the person her mother was but for the person she could have been, should have been to Hermione. Had she actually cared for her child in the slightest.
"Hermione" the soft whispered word twisted painfully inside her as it met her ears. It was the first time her mother had said her name without any hint of disgust or anger that the fifteen year old could remember.
"I'm sorry, for everything" she let her mother continue, silently listening despite the words coming far too little too late to make a difference to how Hermione viewed the woman.
"You deserved better, I deserved better but I was a coward. I didn’t fight. You must fight Hermione. Please be brave were I failed to be, you cannot let yourself be stuck here" yep those words were meaningless, Hermione knew her mother only spoke them because she wouldn't be alive in the morning to face the consequences. That would be on Hermione.
She knew already she didn't deserve the way she was treated, no Omega did, particularly muggle born omegas who got the worst of the abuse having no magical family to protect them. She knew she deserved better and her mothers words only served to bring that by now familiar anger roaring to life with force within her.
The tears that had once been grief turning to tears of anger as they finally spilled down her slim young face. Head bowing over to rest upon her mothers chest. Sobs heaving violently as she released all the pent up emotion she had carried for so so bloody long.
Bony fingers threading her hair, to soothe for the first time ever, not to harm as Omega mother and Omega child held one another in a somewhat tender embrace. Their first and last.
Hours past and Hermione could hear her mother growing weaker, the soothing hand in her hair growing still, shallow breathes becoming sporadic and deep as her tears finally let up.
She pulled back in time to see her mother take her last breath, eyes growing clouded and dim, chest stilling as death claimed her. Hermione sighed. Reaching up to close her mothers eyes for despite the woman’s vulgar treatment, she was well had been Hermione's mother and she knew she could not simply leave her to stare blankly. She deserved to be respected in death at the very least.
She stood, pulling the door closed behind her as she trudged her way down the stairs in search of her father. She had no idea how he would take the news only that she would suffer for it and all she could pray for was that the next week passed quickly enough so she could return to Hogwarts far from her fathers reach.