Disclaimer: I own nothing. J.K. Rowling owns all characters, places, etc. etc. etc. Except Anthony and Eli, of course. They're all mine! Mwha, ha, ha, ha, ha!

A/N: This (rabid) plot bunny wouldn't leave me alone. I stayed up until two in the morning one day writing this, so please be kind.

"Anthony, I can't do this! I'm leaving!" Hermione cried one night, roughly throwing clothes into an overnight bag.

"Fine," Anthony spat. "But you're not taking Eli."

"Try and stop me," Hermione turned to go into her son's dark room, but her husband blocked the door.

"You don't own him," he said, a dangerous glint in his eyes. Hermione was appalled to think that she had ever loved this man.

"Nor do you," she said, trying to push past the six feet, 200 pound brick wall that was Anthony, but he gripped her arm tightly.

"You're not taking him," he repeated slowly. His intoxicated breath was hot on Hermione's face.

"I won't let you hurt him," she breathed. Anthony's grip was very strong, and it was beginning to cut off the blood circulation.

"You've no right to tell me what I will and will not do!" he sneered, his rough palm connecting with Hermione's face, again and again. Finally, he got bored and wandered into the living room and sinking clumsily into his easy chair. Hermione turned and raced into Eli's room, locking the door behind her.

The room was pitch-black, except for a small, dragon-shaped nightlight that glowed in one corner.

"Mummy?" a scared little boy's voice came from underneath a bedspread on a small toddler's bed. Hermione sat down on the edge of the bed and drew back the blanket. A raven-haired three-year-old boy sat hugging his knees with one arm and clutching his teddy bear in the other. Tears sparkled in his eyes.

"Oh, Eli," Hermione cooed, hugging the small child to her, more trying to reassure herself than her son. "It's okay. There's nothing to be afraid of."

"Really?"

"Yep. Now come on, we've got to get out of here," Eli nodded knowingly, still hugging his bear. Hermione threw some of his clothes into his backpack, and then dressed him in his favorite Quidditch shirt and jeans.

Cautiously, she unlocked the door and stuck her head out. Anthony had passed out in his chair, his snoring drowning out the evening news. For the first time in their three-year marriage, Hermione was thankful for Anthony's problem with alcohol. She picked up Eli (something rarely done, for he was extremely independent.) and slowly made her way to the front door, her ribs aching from last night's beating. She quickly strapped Eli into his car seat and started the car, praying that Anthony was still passed out. When no thundering footsteps were heard, she backed out of the driveway and down the road. For reason's unknown to her, Hermione's car instinctively made its way down the streets and alleyway's to Harry's apartment.

Harry was woken up at one in the morning by a knock at his front door. Wondering who would be at his door at this hour, he groggily answered it. He was surprised to find Hermione standing in the dark, a little boy with a teddy bear clinging to her hand sleepily.

"Hermione!" he exclaimed. "Come in!"

"Thanks. Harry, this is Eli," Hermione said, motioning to the little boy. "Do you think you could watch him for a minute while I go and grab his backpack?" With that, she dashed back out the door. Harry knelt beside Eli.

"So Eli, you like Quidditch?" he asked. The little boy smiled widely.

"Yeah! I want to play, but, Mummy won't let me," Eli said.

"I used to play," Harry said. "For my school."

"Cool! What position?"

"Seeker,"

"That's my favorite position! My favorite team is Ireland,"

"I saw them at the Quidditch World Cup once," Harry said, smiling. "They won, too."

"They won last year, too," Eli said, also smiling. "I especially liked it when the Seeker did that Wronski Feint."

"You know about that?" Harry was shocked. "How old are you, Eli?"

"Three," Eli held up four fingers. "You know, you're really nice. Not like Daddy. I can't talk about Quidditch to him."

"Really? How come?" Harry thought that Anthony would surely want to take part in Eli's Qiudditch interest.

"He doesn't like it. Sometimes he hits me to make me go away," Eli pushed up the sleeve of his shirt. A big bruise covered almost his entire upper arm. "He hits Mummy, too, and she doesn't even talk about Quidditch. She says it's because he can't control his anger. I think it's because he just doesn't like me or Mummy." A cold feeling sank into the pit of Harry's stomach. He should have not listened to Ron three years ago. He opened his mouth to say something more, but Hermione walked into the room, Eli's red backpack in hand.

"I hope he didn't cause any trouble," she said.

"No," Harry replied

"Harry knows a lot about Qiudditch!" Eli exclaimed. Hermione smiled.

"He should," she said. "He got a chance to play on a professional team when he was seventeen."

"Really?" Eli looked at Harry disbelievingly. "Cool!" Hermione took his hand.

"Okay Eli, bedtime," she took a sleeping bag out of his backpack.

"Wait," Harry said. "There's a spare bedroom just down the hall. He could sleep in there." He led her to it, and watched as she tucked Eli in. When he finally fell asleep, Hermione turned off the light and quietly walked out of the room.

"Thanks," she said, as she and Harry sat down in the living room. She smiled. "I think you've made a life-long friend."

"Why didn't you tell me Anthony abused you?" Harry asked softly.

"What? How did you get that idea?"

"From the fact the Eli told me and that he has a huge bruise on his arm." Hermione look shocked. She started to cry.

"I never wanted Anthony to hurt him," she said. "I never noticed because it was dark. How could I let this happen?" Harry wrapped his arms around her. She buried her face into his shirt, still crying.

"You didn't deserve any of this," he said, kissing the top of her head. Slowly, her sobs stopped and she fell asleep. Harry picked her up easily and lay her down on the couch. Quickly scrawling a note, he grabbed his coat and Apparated out of the room.

"Wait," Ron said, still staring at Harry in awe. Harry had automatically Apparated to Ron's house. "Hermione is at your house and she now has a little boy?"

"Yeah. And that's not even the worst of it," Harry said, rubbing his forehead angrily. "Anthony has been abusing both her and Eli."

"What!" Ron was furious. "I'm going to kill that son of a –"

"Ron!" Harry quickly brought Ron back down to Earth. "Anthony is huge. I don't think Luna would like it very much if her husband came back home with his face bashed in. Besides, if anyone's going kill him, it will be me."

"You've still got feelings for her, don't you?"

"That's the problem. Why did I listen to you? I should have stopped the wedding."

"I don't know why you listened to me at all. You never had before," Ron shrugged.

"Because I thought you were right,"

"Harry, when have I ever been right?"

"Never, I guess."

"Exactly."

When she woke up the next morning, Eli's laughter was the first thing to reach Hermione's ears. As she sat up and observed her surroundings, she was surprised to see Eli's teddy bear sitting in one of the chairs. She sleepily walked into the kitchen. Harry was standing at the stove, Eli sitting on the counter beside him, his footed-pajama feet hanging over the edge.

Hermione had never seen two people who looked so alike. She was surprised that she hadn't noticed it before now. Although Eli had somehow reminded her of her best friend, she had never known what it was until now. The same jet-black hair, with the exact same untidiness. The same face shape. The same smile. The same independent streak that set them years ahead of their peers. The way they both loved Quidditch with a passion.

"Mummy!" Eli said suddenly, bringing Hermione back to reality. He hopped off the counter and ran in her direction.

"Good morning Eli," Hermione smiled, scooping her son into a hug.

"Harry told me about the time he lost all of the bones in his arm from Quidditch!" Eli babbled happily.

"That's why I don't let you play," she said, ruffling his hair. "It's dangerous."

"Hey! I resent that!" Harry laughed. "Besides, the bones grew back."

"You were nearly killed because of that game!" Hermione said.

"Really?" Eli said admiringly. "How?"

"He fell off his broom from about 500 feet off the ground," Hermione sighed.

"That wasn't my fault," Harry said, gesturing with the spatula. "That, my dear friend, was the dementor's fault."

"You still almost got killed," she said, scowling at her smiling friend. "I can't stand that game."

"Yet you still came to every game that me and Ron played," Harry grinned. Hermione tried to think of something to say, but couldn't.

"Oh, my!" Harry said in mock surprise. "Hermione Granger doesn't know what to say! We should record the date and time! Let's see…today's the fifth…it's eight-forty five…" Hermione swatted him in the arm.

"You're a prat," she said, smiling in spite of herself. "You're becoming a bad influence on my son." Harry gasped.

"A bad influence? Me?" he said, in mock indignation. "How dare you!" Hermione rolled her eyes and turned to Eli. When her back was turned, Harry stuck his tongue out at her, sending Eli into a hysterical laughing fit. Hermione turned back around and swatted Harry in the arm again. Then, she led Eli to the bedroom and changed him into his clothes.

After Eli was changed and fed, he reached for his sneakers.

"And where are you going?" Hermione asked. Eli stopped dead, and then looked at Harry helplessly.

"I told him I'd take him to see Diagon Alley," Harry said quickly. "He's got to see it sometime before he goes to school."

"You are a bad influence," Hermione said.

"Then," Harry went on, ignoring her comment. "I thought we'd swing by Mrs. Weasley's and then Ron's. You haven't seen them in a while, I'll bet."

"Fine!" she sighed. "I see I have no say in the matter!" Eli grinned and continued putting his shoes on. After having Hermione tie them, the three of them set out.