Author's Note: This story will start out pretty dark with trigger warnings in a few chapters but will get decidedly lighter and happily ever after later in the story. This is a major trigger warning chapter.

Disclaimer: I own nothing that you recognize. All that belongs to our Queen, Miss JK Rowling.

Prologue

It had been a really difficult year for the trio. Arthur had been attacked, Sirius had died, and the Dark Lord was "officially" back. Harry was not handling everything very well. Ron had changed in response to his father's attack. Hermione wasn't really sure how to deal with all the changes in the world on top of trying to help her friends. She grew ever more worried about her parents with all of the odd happenings. It almost felt like the magical world was trying to spill over into the muggle world. It was subtle, though. If she didn't know better, she would have thought that it was ghosts (at least the way that muggles thought of them).

The first time it happened, her parents had been planning their annual summer holiday. They had purchased three plane tickets and booked two hotel rooms for their trip. They had decided to go to America to see all the major cities, their first stop being New York. Her parents had even purchased tickets to see Wicked: The Musical on Broadway.

It all seemed so normal. That was what was most odd. Hermione was usually extraordinarily excited about holiday with her parents. This time, however, she had an odd feeling that she wouldn't be going.

Two days before they had planned to leave, the confirmation papers came in the mail. Her parents were ecstatic! That was, until her father went over the papers.

"There seems to be a problem," Bother Hermione and her mother turned to him, confused frowns gracing their faces. "It looks like everything is only booked for two. One hotel room, two plane tickets, two Wicked tickets. Just right for your mother and me, Pumpkin, but it doesn't look like you are confirmed." He looked at his daughter. "We can void it and rebook everything?"

She shook her head. "No, it's alright. You two go have fun. I'll talk to Mrs. Weasly and see if Ginny wants a bunk mate a few weeks early." She notices the looks of worry on her parents' faces. "It's alright, really! We'll do something extra grand over Christmas holiday. I promise."

Her parents looked at each other. "Alright. If you're sure, dear." Her mother hugged her. "You go and send Mrs. Weasly an owl and let your father and I talk this over a bit."

Hermione nodded and turned to go back up stairs. Half way up, she turned and looked at her parents and found that she wasn't entirely disappointed at the day's turn of events. It was as if her mind had braced itself for the blow, like she unconsciously knew something would happen. 'No', she told herself. 'That isn't possible. I'd have to be better at Divination for something like that.' With one last glance to her parents, she ascended the rest of the stairs and turned into her bedroom.

The second time it happened, she had just sat down at her desk to write Mrs. Weasly about arriving early. She turned to grab a pen and bit of parchment when she noticed an envelope with her name on it that had not been there when she had gone downstairs twenty minutes ago. She opened it to find a letter from none other than Victor Krum. She read through the contents and learned that he was writing to see if she had any summer plans and, if not, to invite her to spend part of it with him at his parent's summer house. Conveniently, the dates he listed were the exact dates that she had been planning to be in America with her parents. Though she thought that was odd, she marked it as another coincidence of this strange summer, and thus, without any other plans, she decided that since the Weaslys weren't expecting her for a few weeks, she would be delighted to catch up with him. Though they hadn't gotten off to the best of starts during the Tri Wizard Tournament in her fourth year, they had developed a friendship over the summer and the last school year through their letters. 'It would be nice to see him again', she decided. She gave the bird she hadn't noticed still perched on her sill two treats and sent it off with her response just in time to hear her mother call her down for supper.

HJW

She helped her parents load the taxi that would take them to the airport and waved them off after assuring them that she would be just fine. They had left reluctantly but, in the end, trusted their daughter's judgment. After they had turned the corner and left her sight, she sighed and returned to their living room. She grabbed her bags and a handful of floo powder and stepped into her fireplace. She took a deep breath and called out the location of Victor's summer house clearly, not looking forward to the all too familiar pull and stomach jolt of traveling by floo network. Not five seconds later, she stepped out of a new fireplace into one of the most beautiful living rooms she had ever seen. She set her bags down by the sofa and made her way into the staircase where she saw Victor descending.

"Hello, Hermione! It is wonderful to see you again!" He moved over to where she stood and gave her a friendly embrace which she returned. "How have you been?"

She smiled, "I have been well, Victor. How have you been enjoying being graduated and being able to play Quidditch full time?" She had to admit, she had enjoyed watching him play and missed going to his games. They weren't like Harry's games. She didn't feel the urgency for Gryffindor to win. Not that she didn't have Bulgarian team spirit, she just knew that the House Cup wasn't (partially) depending on the points, which allowed her to be able to relax and just enjoy the game.

Her smile grew as his face lit up. "I could never ask for anything better!"

They continued to catch up as they took her bags up to one of the bedrooms. "This will be your room for your stay." Victor led her to a spacious and perfectly decorated area. There was a queen size bed in the middle of the wall directly in front of her with a nightstand on either side. A simple yet elegant wooden lamp adorned each nightstand. On one of the nightstands, however, there was a bright, neatly wrapped parcel. She immediately went to investigate and found her name was written in a beautiful script on a bit of parchment attached to the wrapping paper. She looked up from the package to her friend who gave her a "go ahead" nod. She smiled and when she unwrapped the present she found a small box. Upon opening the box, she found a simple necklace with a small pendent in the shape of a stack of three books that she noticed would open like a locket. Upon further inspection of the books' spines she gasped.

Hogwarts: A History

Hamlet

The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe

She looked back up at her friend, surprised. 'How did he know that these are my three most favourite books?' She thought back but couldn't remember ever telling him.

"You are always talking about something you read in Hogwarts: A History and I'm pretty sure you never go anywhere without the other two." He turned to her book bag and pulled all three books out to prove his point. "Open it." He gestured to the pendent.

She did as she was told and unclasped the locket. Inside she found three small items inside. "Empty them onto the bed but don't close the locket." Again, she did as she was told and the three items fell onto the bed as the three books, only they were normal size. "Now close it again." She closed the locket, the books disappeared back into the locket, and the pendant sealed itself securely again.

"It will stay latched when you are doing your daily chores and activities. Open it again when you want to read and close it again when you are done. The books will automatically return to the locket." It was his turn to allow his grin to grow as her face glowed.

"I love it! Thank you!" She ran over to her friend and hugged him again.

As they broke apart, Hermione heard a rumbling noise and realized with a blush that the sound was coming from her stomach. Victor had apparently also heard the noise because he chucked as he took her hand and lead her down to the kitchen. He sat her on one of the stools at the island and began to pick various ingredients out of the cupboard.

"How do sandwiches and fresh fruit sound?" Her host asked her.

She nodded and her stomach growled again. They both laughed. "That sounds lovely!"

As she sat and watched him prepare the meal, she noticed that the feeling that something was not right was still lingering in the back of her mind had intensified but she decided that she was having a wonderful time and didn't want to spoil her holiday, so she pushed the feeling to the recesses from which it came, determined to have a good summer after an especially difficult year.

HJW

The next two weeks went swimmingly. The pair had explored the quaint little town near the house, played various games – muggle and magical alike, Hermione introduced Viktor to movies, and Viktor tried to teach Hermione how to fly. Hermione was having a wonderful time, but the warning in the back of her mind would not leave her. As a point of fact, it had recently become more persistent.

And she was about to find out why.

It was day fifteen out of twenty-five of their little adventure and Viktor had apperated them to a beach where they had enjoyed a nice brunch and a swim in the ocean. When it began to grow dark, they had packed up their things and Viktor had apperated them back to the house. Viktor had out the items from the picnic basket away while Hermione had gone up to her room to shower and change. She chose a simple pink sundress and a worn out pair of flip flops for the evening. She could smell the pleasant aroma of pasta and garlic bread – her favourite – as she walked back into the kitchen and landed on her perch at the island.

"Spaghetti and meatballs with garlic bread," Her host announced. "I remember you mentioned it was your favourite."

She smiled at his memory. "Well, honestly, all pasta is my favourite. Ever since I went on holiday with my parents to Italy when I was five years old." Her smile faltered a bit at the memory. She missed her parents. This was the first year they hadn't gone on summer holiday together. She knew that she was alright about it when they had left, but now she had doubts.

"You miss them, don't you?" Viktor's voice pulled her out of her thoughts.

"Yeah," she admitted. "This is the first year I haven't gone on holiday with them."

Viktor put the spoon he was using to stir the sauce down and walked around the island to where she sat. "I'm really sorry your plans fell through this year. Maybe this vacation was what was meant to be this year, just you and me. Maybe my letter arriving when it did was fate, so that you wouldn't be home alone for a month."

There was something slightly off about his condolences that she couldn't put her finger on, like he had helped "fate" along a bit, but she pushed that thought back with the bad feeling, knowing she was being ridiculous.

The sound of the sauce bubbling on the stove pulled them apart again and she busied herself setting the table.

It was a lovely dinner. As soon as her plate of pasta was set in front of her, she forgot any doubts that she'd had and simply enjoyed her food and company. She helped clean up after dinner and they settled on the couch to watch another movie. She noticed that Viktor was a lot closer tonight than he had been. He sat closer to her on the couch and he found excuses to touch her (brushing her hair back, pulling bits of fuzz off of her dress). She wasn't really sure what to do about it though. On the one hand, she felt a little uncomfortable. Viktor was just an old friend. She harboured no romantic feelings for him at all. On the other, she realised that she might just be being paranoid.

Mercifully, the movie ended giving her an excuse to excuse herself for the night and retreat to the safety of her room. She made a move to stand but she felt a strong hand pull her back down.

"One more movie?" Viktor whined. "Please? You know how I love them!"

She was tired, the night had been strange, and she just wanted to go to bed. "I really just want to go to sleep right now. I'm very tired. Maybe tomorrow," she reasoned.

She watched his shoulders slump. "Alright. At least let me walk you to your room."

She nodded and he smiled as he hopped off the couch, a little too eagerly. He took her hand and led her to her room. He opened the door for her, smile growing bigger by the second.

"Good night, Viktor." She offered and turned to go into her room. Again she was stopped by his strong hand on her arm pulling her back to him.

"What? No good night kiss?" He leaned down, his lips almost touching hers. That's when she smelled it: the wine. She hadn't noticed how much he'd had to drink at dinner.

"No, Victor. We're just friends, remember? We talked about this after the Tournament." Her heart as racing.

She watched as he laughed. "'Just friends'! You must be joking!" She winced when he yanked her arm and let out a cry when the yank caused her to fall into his arms. "How naive are you to think that I invited you here to my vacation home for a holiday, just the two of us, because we are 'just friends'?"

She yelped as he shoved her into the bedroom and slammed the door. "Please! I didn't know it would only be the two of us!" She pleaded. "I thought that your parents and sister would be here too!"

He laughed again as he threw her onto the bed. "And they say you are the brightest witch of your age. Who are they fooling?"

Hermione had never been so scared in her life. Not when she was petrified, not meeting Sirius, not with Umbridge, or even in the Department of Mysteries. At least then she'd had back up, friends to help her. Now she was alone and her wand was across the room and he was on top of her, holding her down and pinning her hands over her head.

"Now, let's try this again: how about a good night kiss?" His words were becoming more slurred the angrier he became but there was a clearly menacing tone behind them. Before she could turn her face away, his lips were on hers with bruising force. She tried to turn her head and wiggle her way out of his grasp, but he was too strong. She felt the tears running down her cheeks when his hands began to wander. She felt one of his hands move from above her head to trail down her body. It caressed her cheek almost lovingly before moving down to her chest to squeeze a breast too hard. She cried out but he simply shushed her and continued to move down until he reached the hem of her skirt. She tried to pretend she was anywhere else but where she was. She didn't notice that he had pulled his wand out of his pocket until he muttered something she couldn't understand and she felt a tug on her wrists. She fought against the tug but it only got stronger. She opened her eyes to investigate what was impeding her movements to find an enchanted rope holding her hands in place.

"The more you fight, the tighter it gets, Sweetheart. You may as well lie back and enjoy yourself. I know I will!" Her attacker taunted.

Hermione screwed her eyes shut once again as the realisation dawned on her that she could do nothing to get herself out of this. The panic of her situation hit her full force when she heard her dress and panties rip. She felt the tears run down her face with renewed vigour when she felt the pressure on her core. As he forced himself into her, he made no notice of the fact that she was dry and that he was much too large for her virgin organ. He made no effort to allow her to adjust in any way before brutally pounding himself into her. She cried out in pain at every thrust and nearly fainted when she felt a lubrication whose coppery scent met her nose, telling her that she was bleeding. She felt his thrusts becoming more erratic and prayed that he was almost done. She begged whichever deities would listen that he would leave her alone and go pass out in his own room so that she could floo to the Burrow before he woke. The sting of his hot seed spilling into her battered core pulled her out of her reverie and she cried in relief when he slipped out of her and redressed himself, walking away from her.

When he reached the door, he turned to her and gave his wand a lazy wave. Her bounds were untied and he smiled at her. "See, that wasn't so bad, now was it?" His sickly sweet voice tortured her ears. "Maybe next time you'll be good so that I won't have to tie you up."

Her stomach almost revolted right there, but her body wouldn't allow her to move just yet. When she heard him leave, shutting the door behind him, she allowed herself to sob openly. This was what the feeling of dread was in her mind. 'Maybe I'm better at Divination than I thought', she told herself. Then she thought back to his words at the dinner table. Had he planned all of this? She found his letter and set it aside to show to Kingsley when she told him about what had happened. She gathered the rest of her things and took her bags down to the living room. She placed her things in the fire place and took a handful of floo powder. She clearly stared her destination and dropped the powder. As she felt the familiar pull of this form of travel, she know that she couldn't keep her stomach in check very much longer.

Within seconds, she was tripping out of the fireplace at the Burrow and falling into the arms of none other than Fred Weasly.