I do not claim to own anything in this wonderful Harry Potter universe that JK Rowling blessed us with. I write for fun, I hope you enjoy.

Please be warned, this story will be for mature audiences. Trigger warning for language, sex, brief rape. I'm going to try and remember to put trigger warnings for major triggers, but if I forget this is the official warning.

Trigger - Short rape memory

Chapter 1

Hermione glanced at the watch on her arm, realizing it was already eight in the evening. Sighing she closed the folder to the case she had been working on for the last three weeks. Standing up she grabbed her cloak and headed out her door, closing it behind her. It wasn't the first time this week, or in the last few weeks even, that she was leaving the ministry so late. Knowing she was heading into a fight upon her arrival at home, Hermione threw the floo powder into the floo and disappeared into the flames.

"Where have you been, Hermione? It's late and I'm getting sick of this. I've been sitting here starving for the last two hours because you weren't here! Bloody hell, Hermione!" Ron yelled at her as soon as she stepped out of the floo.

Rolling her eyes, she took off her cloak and brushed past him and into the kitchen. "I was at work, Ronald. Someone has to pay the bills. You sit here all day doing nothing and then expect me to come home and make your dinner and even clean. You're ridiculous!"

Making herself a sandwich she quickly ate so she could take a shower before heading to bed. "Make a sandwich, Ron. I'm not doing it tonight. I'm going to shower."

As she walked into the bathroom she heard Ron let out an angry huff and closed the door. Shaking her head and wondering to herself about how her life had turned so upside down since the war, she started the shower and stepped inside. She let the hot water knead into her back to work out her sore muscles as she relaxed.

The case she had been working on was going to be the death of her. She was working in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, and her current case was for werewolf rights. At the moment she was petitioning for them to be able to register without consequence and have a safe place to go to when the full moon came. Ron couldn't understand why she worked so hard on this case specifically, even when Remus Lupin was a close friend to them.

Once she was finished with her shower she headed to the bedroom and dressed in her favorite muggle t-shirt and a comfortable pair of shorts. She crawled into bed, hoping to drift off quickly, only to be overcome with thoughts of her case, and the now, ever so repetitive lifestyle she was living.

Turning over, she heard a knock at the door, "Hermione?" Was whispered as the door cracked open. "Hermione, are you awake? I wanted to apologize. I'm sorry, Mione."

She rolled back over looking at Ron. Sighing, she said, "It's okay Ron, I know we're both stressed out."

Ron came over and got into bed with her, cuddling up. He immediately began sliding his hands around her sides to her stomach, trying to slide them into her knickers. She never wanted to have sex with him anymore, but she didn't really see a choice as they were engaged and living together.

When she didn't say anything, he took that as an opening and began fumbling around, rubbing uncomfortably between her folds until she made a sound of annoyance, which he assumed was from pleasure. Completely ignorant to her annoyance he sat up and waited for her to get into position, which had been the same one for nearly a year now. She braced herself as he placed himself behind her and then without any further foreplay, entered her. It only took about two minutes before he came, satisfied and flopped over on the bed. Using his wand, he cleaned them up, and before Hermione could get comfortable, he was snoring. Lying back down, she curled into a ball and began crying, like she usually did.

Ron didn't care how sex was for her, that she didn't find any enjoyment in it, that is was uncomfortable for her. It was never something she found enjoyable with Ron, but even more un-enjoyable since the war.

When she was held captive in Malfoy Manor, she was tortured by the psychotic Bellatrix Lestrange and then given over to two death eaters who had their fun with her afterward. They had toyed with her and crucio'd her a bit more, and eventually she was rescued, but not before one of the death eaters was able to viciously rape her. She could still remember the smells, the words, and the feeling of it all; she couldn't escape, and Ron held no sympathy for her in regards to what happened.

It was a regular fight between them. He wouldn't marry her because she wasn't "pure," even though he had a history with Lavender Brown, but he wouldn't leave her because she was willing to take care of him. He had gotten very lazy after the war, even more than he was in school, when she was doing all of his homework. With these thoughts and tears still streaming down her face, she fell off to sleep, not as restful as she was hoping.

Waking the next morning, Hermione went to the loo and then to the kitchen for breakfast. She remembered the night before and felt sick to her stomach, so she opted not to eat, instead deciding on a cup of tea. Lost in her thoughts, she didn't hear the tapping at the window until it became annoying louder. She looked over, realizing she didn't recognize the owl and opened the window. Her name was scrawled across the front and beautifully written. Opening the envelope she pulled out the letter.

Miss Granger,

I wish to meet with you. I am not disclosing who I am, as I feel you won't be willing to meet with me, but I do hope you will accept. If you do choose to, I have enclosed a small portkey that will take you right outside of the restaurant where we will have the utmost discretion and privacy.

Please meet me this evening at 6:00.

Yours Truly,

X

Closing the letter, she put it in her pocket when she heard Ron coming out of the bedroom. She wasn't sure why, but she knew she was going to meet this mystery person, but she also knew she didn't want Ron to know about it.

Finishing her tea, she hurried to ready for her day, her thoughts racing in regards to the evening to come. Who in the world has owled her requesting a meeting and why? It didn't make any sense, but she needed to know.