Draco's striking stormy grey eyes haunted her dreams as she lamented the loss of an ally, all at the hands of her stupidity.

Draco was the one person she knew that was actually willing to aid her; to free her from the clutches of her abusive relationship with Ron. Alas, that dream of finally being happy and bruise free went up in flames.

Just like every morning after a beating, she struggled to get up. Due to the severe pain she was in, she barely noticed that Ron's spot on the bed was empty.

She limped into the bathroom to perform her daily rituals, leaving out the makeup seeing as she didn't have any classes today.

Like every other morning after a beating she diverted her gaze from her reflection in the mirror. She imagined that it was glaring at her, irate over the fact that Hermione wouldn't acknowledge it.

She shuffled to the kitchen next, eager to fill her stomach with nourishment. Her nose filled with the tantalizing smell of omelettes. Her stomach growled in response.

Omelettes?

Who was cooking them?

She noticed a figure hunched over the stove, furiously stirring something as they wiped their brow. She noticed the messy auburn hair and the familiar worn Beetles t-shirt.

"Ron?" He turned, food stains on his front and face. He grinned at her. "I was wondering when you'd wake. Sit down, I made breakfast." He said enthusiastically. Hermione stared, dumbfounded. He rarely ever prepared meals and on the days that he did, it was usually on special occasions (Valentine's, her birthday, anniversary).

Hermione took a seat by the table, still very much shocked. He placed a plate of food in front of her. She began to dig in, the food surprisingly good; usually when he did cook the meal would be either undercooked or burnt.

Little did Hermione know that that meal marked the beginning of his four day long façade of 'change'.

Day one, he walked her to her classes, something he never did. After her classes had concluded he surprised her with a bouquet of chrysanthemums, her all time favourite flowers, and a new necklace. Afterwards they took a walk in the park together.

Day two, they spent the day indoors, in their pyjamas, watching old cartoons as they munched on popcorn and dry cereal.

Day three, another bouquet of flowers, this time roses. She had come down to watch his match. She cheered louder than ever. After the match ended and they had won, he pulled her onto the field, kissing her fervently as the crowd cheered. For once she felt proud to be his girlfriend.

Today Hermione wondered what Ron had in store for her. She felt her body tingle with excitement, her heart swelling with the prospect of finally being in a relationship where she didn't fear for her life. "Morning beautiful." Ron greeted groggily as he sat up in bed and placed a kiss on Hermione cheek. "Morning." She hummed.

"Listen, baby, I've got practise today. There's a big match coming and the football scouts will be making an appearance. This might be my chance to become part of Manchester United once and for all!" He said, excitement apparent in his eyes.

"Don't worry, I have something special planned out for you when I come back." He dipped his head, so their lips met. Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck while his fingers intertwined in her chestnut curls, his tongue pushing past her lips and into her mouth.

After what felt like hours stuck in their fiery embrace, they broke apart, both breathless.

"I love you." Hermione said, as though she had been hoodwinked, almost as if an otherworldly force possessed her into saying it.

He smiled at her, before leaving for the bathroom.

Seeing as Ron had left and she didn't have any classes to attend, she decided she would spend some time on herself before he came home.

She did all the things she never got around to doing because of how preoccupied she had been, such as giving herself a pedicure, catching up on the episodes of her favourite series that she had recorded for later, napping. She never knew how fulfilling doing those measly things could be; she felt so refreshed!

Excitement gnawed at her heart as she awaited the arrival of Ron, suddenly craving the affection he was starting to show her. She hoped that it would stay like this forever.

Besides her, her phone buzzed. Hermione picked it up, and pressed the button to switch it on.

Srry bby. I mite cum home a lil late. But don't worry, I'll be back 2 treat u like the queen u r.

Hermione frowned at the text. Where could he be? What was he doing? He wasn't with his friends was he, because he was always a different person when he was around his friends, the bad crowd that took narcotics and drank excessively, and caused trouble on the streets of London.

Her mind filled with anxiety as these questions banged against her brain.

No, stop being pessimistic. I'm sure that he isn't getting up to any trouble. He's changed hasn't he?

Yes. For four days.

Underneath his text was another one, from an unknown number.

Hermione. I've been worried about you. I haven't heard from you for days and I thought something happened. He didn't do anything did he? Please text me back just to make sure.

-Draco

Hermione bit the inside of her cheek, as she reread the text repeatedly. He was worried about her? Even after she had smacked him in front of everyone in the library. He actually cared?

Hermione set her phone on the table, her head spinning as emotion upon emotion plagued her. Fear, anguish, love, and just a twinge of happiness.

For the next two hours she anxiously awaited Ron, occasionally checking the time on her phone. She eventually gave up waiting when the large luminescent numbers on her phone announced that it was just a few minutes past midnight. She fell asleep on the couch, not bothering to pause the movie she was watching.

She awoke with a start as a loud noise rang out, followed by a string of curse words. She sat up lethargically, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "Ron?" She yawned.

She was met with no reply, rather a loud crashing sound that startled her fully awake. And then Ron stumbled into the living room, looking disheveled.

"Oh? Y-you're still up?"

"You said you'd be back earlier."

"Hermione fuck! Can't a man go out without his stupid girlfriend breathing down his neck!?" He snapped, causing Hermione to jump. Her breath hitched, danger bells ringing in her head.

Hermione bowed her head, fear rippling through her body. She hadn't expected him to lash out like that. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah well you fucking should be! And look at this place, it's a fucking mess! So you didn't do a damn thing while I was gone? What the fuck are you good for?!" He ranted. Hermione felt a tear slide down her face, her face contorted in a look of misery.

"Hey I'm fucking talking to you!" Ron shouted, suddenly grabbing a fistful of her hair and dragging her forward. Hermione gave a yelp. "R-Ron please let me go!" She cried.

"Tell me love, just what the fuck were you doing while I was out? Cheating? Yeah, you probably were, you're nothing but a good for nothing slut."

His words were like a dagger to the heart, being inserted deeper and deeper with each distasteful word directed at her.

He threw her onto the couch, releasing her brown tresses. With wild eyes, he perused the vicinity of the room, eyes landing on Hermione's phone lying on the couch cushion. Hermione's eyes followed his gaze, her heart sinking to her feet. She remembered, with fear nestling in her heart, that Draco had sent a text that she had decided not to delete out of laziness.

Now her stupid mistake was coming back to bite her in the arse.

She watched, her heart still with trepidation as he scrolled through the chats, finding the incriminating message. His eyes grew steely, his lips pulling into a sneer. "Oh so you've been texting that blonde prick? Huh?!"

"I-it's n-not—"

"And I see you let him in on our little secret! Oh, splendid! Tell me, just what are you trying to gain by trying to ruin our relationship?" Ruin our relationship… those words danced around her mind, taunting her, until it clicked…

She wasn't the one ruining their relationship.

It was Ron, with his pointless jealousy, his endless control over her, his malicious behaviour, and his violent tendencies.

It was Ron, who never missed an opportunity to belittle her, make her feel small and make her despise the skin on her body.

And he had the audacity to pin the blame on her?!

Anger flared within her, pushing her to do something she had never once done before.

Hermione got to her feet, possessed by extreme courage and strength and also ire. She swung at him with the force of a thousand gods, the harsh sound of skin on skin contact ringing in the air. She could make out the sting on the palm, and the furious, incredulous look in his eyes as he clutched his cheeks.

And as fast as that overwhelming courage and strength came, it was gone.

And in its place an absolute crippling fear was left.

Not knowing what else to do, she began to run. She heard him make a roar of indignation behind her, before his heavy footfalls rang out. She didn't get far enough as she felt his rough hands grab her by the scuff of her shirt and yank her backwards. She gave a bloodcurdling scream.

"Shut the fuck up!" He yelled, bringing his fist down to her face in a painful blow. He then pushed her onto the floor, before his heavy feet collided with her side, his kicks alternating between her stomach, her side and her legs. The times that she glanced towards him she didn't see a trace of the Ron that had charmed her and stolen her heart. She wondered where he was now.

He grabbed her hair and slammed her head into the ground several times, her vision growing blurry with each passing blow.

Finally after what felt like forever, he was done. Her body felt like it had been through a stampede, a plane crash and a car accident all at once.

She drifted in and out of consciousness, the darkness greeting and leaving her several times before it decided to leave her for good. The house was silent, the only sound apparent was the loud snores coming from their bedroom and the silent murmuring of the television.

Hermione struggled to her feet, swaying as she was suddenly hit with a wave of nausea. She attempted to still herself, before limping to the bedroom.

She opened the door quietly so as not to alert Ron. She stood by the threshold for a moment, glaring at his sleeping form. He looked so peaceful, like worry and guilt didn't plague him over his last transgressions. She resisted the urge to spit on him.

Remembering what the initial goal was, she grabbed her backpack, with all her books and stationary and emptied it on the floor. She then hastily began to search through the closet, stuffing her bag with a few clothing items in a panic. She slipped on a grey hoodie, and a pair of Chuck Taylors before limping out of the room again. She threw a final look at Ron, who snored peacefully on the bed. I'm done.

I'm done. I'm done. I'm done. It was the only thing she thought as she walked through the front door and into the darkness of the night.