Chapter 2: Cat and Mouse – HG

Hermione laid in bed, totally helpless and vulnerable; feeling disgusted and violated. Never in her life did she ever think that the man she loved would do such a thing. A tear rolled from her red, puffy eyes. Unfortunately for Hermione, she regained feeling and movement halfway through the 'act'. Struggling was pointless, because her restraints blistered and tore at her skin with every tug and pull. Her screams were drowned out by the busy city life around their small apartment. And even if there was a chance someone heard her endless pleas for help, it wouldn't matter. Their place was under charms and spells for protection. Her body ached; every time she breathed in and out her chest felt compressed and tight. Her wrists were red and blistering, her cheek was bruised and so were her legs... The damage had been done and she felt totally, and utterly disgusted.

She laid there, starring into space. The sound of running water came from the bathroom, her eyes flicked in the direction of the noise. The door was ajar and a crack of golden light shone through. A trail of Ron's clothes led from the bed to the shower. With a rush of hope and panic, Hermione tried to get up. Her hands were stilled tied together and held in place by a belt that looped around the bedframe. Knowing that it could be her only chance, Hermione decided it was either now or never. She tugged and pulled her hands with all the force she could muster. Painfully, she managed to get one hand free. The other remained stuck in place. The mix of fear and adrenalin coursed through her veins. Her heart was racing and beads of sweat lined her forehead. Panting in pain, Hermione pulled and pulled at the belt. It was wrapped around her wrist so tightly that the constant tugging, made her hand swollen. Hermione was determined and this was not going to stop her. Hermione bit on her lip and held back a cry of pain as she pulled back. The room went quiet. Hermione paused for a moment realising this. The sound of water had stopped and more panic washed over Hermione. Now or never Hermione repeated in her mind. Frantically trying to get the belt off, she took a deep breath in and pulled one last time. Her wrist twisted and cracked as it broke free from its restraint. She whimpered out in pain and held her wrist in place; it dislocated from the impact and was bleeding from the constant pulling. But nonetheless, she was finally free. She stood slowly and a sharp pain went up her leg. Her ankle gave way as she limped forward. Hermione caught herself on the edge of the dresser, and regained her balance. She looked down and saw her wand. With great relief, she smiled. As she went to grab it, the hair on the back of her neck rose and a shiver went down her back.

"What the do you think you are doing?" yelled Ron as he came at her.

Fearfully, Hermione snatched up her wand and went to aim it at Ron, but she screamed out in pain. It was her dislocated wrist. Hermione felt so defeated and weak. For the first time in her life, she didn't know what to do. Her wand hand was injured and she was stuck in her house with a monster she called her husband. Her wand fell to the ground as she held her wrist in place.

"Do you really think I am that stupid, Hermione?" Ron laughed.

"Yes," Hermione mumbled in pain. She looked at the ground and panted in pain.

"What was that?" Ron asked because he couldn't hear her over his laugh.

"Yes," Hermione looked up and yelled. She spat at his feet in disgust. "You sicken me Ronald Weasley and you make me ashamed to be married to you. You are sad, pathetic, and you're a sorry excuse to be called a human being."

Hateful laughter filled Hermione's ears and tears filled her eyes.

"Look at you!" Ron pointed.

He took a step forward and picked up her wand from the ground. He went up to her and tucked a curl behind her ear. She shivered underneath his touch and her stomach felt sick.

"'till death do us part' remember?" Ron whispered into her ear planted a small kiss.

Hermione took a step back and looked at him with pure hatred.

"Simmer down my love," Ron moved forward.

"Get away from me," Hermione said clearly. She tried to put on a brave face, but behind her bruised and tearful face, she was terrified.

"Never," Ron spat.

"You sick bastard! GET AWAY FROM ME!" Hermione screamed. She moved back as far as she could.

"Hermione," Ron said clearly. He took one step forward. "I know you want this. Deep down, I can tell. All this is an act so stop playing the helpless little girl act, you know how it drives me crazy," he whispered in a low, seductive voice. He moved closer.

"You are just playing hard to get, so you might as well give it up."

Hermione whimpered in pain. Tears fells freely down her cheeks. She couldn't bare to look him in the eye. She sunk to the ground; she gripped the carpet in between her fingers until the tops of her knuckles turned pale.

"Please," she whimpered in pain.

"Admit it woman, you want me. I mean look at you," Ron gazed down at her and pointed, "you're already on all fours!" he giggled deviously. He scooped Hermione in his arms and carried her away.

Hermione screamed and kicked and tried with all her might to escape. Through all the pain she tried to hold back, she was determined to get out of his death grip. He stopped suddenly and dropped her like she was a pile of heavy books. She landed painfully on the ground and looked up at the man tormenting her. He gave her a look so evil, so dark, she had never seen it before in her life. Not even Voldemort himself could have looked this bad. The man that stood in front of her was not the man she came to know and love, he was not the man she married, and he was especially not the man she thought he was. Ron stood over her and just stared.

A moment passed before Ron leaned down and grabbed Hermione's face forcefully. He pulled her closer and whispered, "You are so damn beautiful," before he raised his hand and brought it down hard and fast across her tender cheek.

The last thing Hermione saw were those eyes before everything went black... Those dark, evil eyes, like something out of a nightmare that haunts the mind and terrorises the soul. One look that's enough to say, no escape.