CHAPTER TWO
Four years ago…
Hermione lay awake after a rough consummation. She and Draco had been together since the battle of Hogwarts ended, after having a romantic evening of recovery while everyone celebrated the defeat of Voldemort. She'd liked him for so long, eying him from across the Great Hall during meals or trying to sit next to him in her classes. She was happy he proposed a few months after they started dating, and his acceptance of Muggle marriage traditions made her love him even more.
But now her love had turned to pain. Blood seeped onto the sheets as the burning sensation within her grew stronger. She couldn't believe how their first day in their new home had gone. After his tea-related rampage, he'd thrown her burnt dinner at her, blistering her cheek. He then insisted on consummation right after dinner, forcing himself on top of her as she tried to make the bed. Immediately afterwards, he forced her to make the bed, ignoring her tears of pain as he escaped into the bathroom.
The moon flickered on the carpet next to the bed, littered with clothes from the event. Hermione wanted to clean them before she became a target again, but she couldn't make herself move. She needed medical attention, she knew, but she'd have to explain her injuries.
'He's just overexcited from the move. Things will get better,' she thought. She closed her eyes, believing her thoughts. Her next door neighbor, an elderly lady whose hair was wrapped to hide her curlers, eyed the now-dark home through her thin, lacy curtains. She'd documented every sound she'd heard, her hand shaking as she wrote. Hermione would never meet her, but she had a plan for her, a big plan: She was going to save her.
Present Day
Hermione moved downstairs, following the smell of dinner. Ginny made her a plate obediently as the front door opened. Harry moved inside, remaining silent as he made himself a plate alongside her. He looked weary from a day of work, but he knew what was going on within The Burrow, as Ginny left him a note at their home. Harry took care of the kids' few needs, as they were being watched by loyal Uncle George, then he immediately traveled to his wife to help with his old friend Hermione. They hadn't seen each other since she left to be with her new husband Draco, but Harry now knew why. The details were slim, but he knew what happened within that quiet suburban house, more than he'd ever tell the Weasley family.
"Thank you for the plate Ginny," Hermione whispered, immediately rushing the food into her mouth. The group watched her nervously. They remembered from their Hogwarts days and their many holidays together that Hermione was a very slow eater, often skipping dessert to finish her main course. Did Draco change her that much?
"Um, Ginny, I need to give you the sweaters I made for the kids. I hope I got the letters right. You know how my memory is these days," she chuckled nervously, eying Hermione as her food disappeared within seconds. "Hermione, do you need any more? There's plenty."
"I'll be fine," she muttered through her food, spraying her plate with crumbs. She ate them all, cleaning her plate so it appeared as it had when it was first cleaned. The group eyed her carefully, but when she noticed, they averted their eyes back to their own plates. "I'll help with the dishes."
"Oh, that won't be necessary, dear," Mrs. Weasley smiled, pointing to the bewitched cleaning items. "There's some books in the room next to yours. Charlie wanted me to turn his room into a library, and now that George is eying apartments elsewhere, we could finally put the plan in motion without putting anyone out."
"I don't read much anymore, but I'll see what you have," Hermione whispered, standing and looking over the group. "I thank you very much for the food, for everything."
"Don't mention it, Hermione. You're like a daughter to me and I'd do anything for you," Mrs. Weasley grinned. She watched Hermione depart with sad eyes. Once the door to Charlie's room shut behind her, she gave Harry a stern glance. "You'll tell us everything. I don't give a damn what the Ministry told you about hiding the details. We want every moment."
"Later, Mum," Ron sighed. "Everything needs time."
"Not everything, not things like this!" Mrs. Weasley hissed, slamming her fork into her meat and slicing dangerously with her knife. "I want to know why a girl like her turned into a woman like that!" she spat, shoving a bite into her mouth and chewing furiously.
"With time, Mum, with time," Ginny whispered, though she was thinking the same thing.
Four years ago…
Hermione woke up to a Howler landing on her face. Draco left in the early morning hours to work with his father, leaving Hermione with plenty of time to, "CLEAN UP THIS FUCKING HOUSE!", as the Howler demanded. She ate a quick breakfast with the newly-found pans before tackling the house. The Howler flew around her, charmed to yell each item of her list while she worked. Scrubbing the baseboards, cleansing the counters, and doing the laundry she'd "NEGLECTED" after their night of fun.
Hermione worked tirelessly, skipping lunch so she could unpack their items and get them organized. She used her magic carefully, knowing that most of the curtains weren't up yet, but she did most of the work by hand like her parents had taught her.
When Draco returned that evening, he was in a foul mood. He brought home dinner from his mother, who was horrified that her new daughter-in-law couldn't cook properly. Hermione wanted to remind Draco that the burners were different in this house, but she remained silent. In fact, she wasn't saying a word. Draco didn't even notice; he ranted heavily about the Ministry after a day of being brainwashed by his father.
An hour after dinner, Draco demanded a hot shower. Hermione helped him, returning to the kitchen once he got in so that she could clean up the mess he'd made a dinner. While she was there, he started screaming about vermin in the shower. Hermione rushed in to handle the "huge roach," but Draco had already cursed the beast and sent it down the drain.
"These things disgust me. You get a charm on this house to make sure these bastards don't show up again," he demanded. Hermione nodded, drawing her wand. "Not in here, woman! I'm naked and dripping for bloody sake!" he screamed, forcing her from the room and slamming the door in her face.
She cast the charm, tiptoeing into the kitchen to finish her tasks. He found her there later, demanding more fun. She told him she couldn't, and surprisingly he listened. But he sulked into the bedroom, leaving her to continue scrubbing away at some spilled sauce.
When she tried to go to bed, she found the door charmed shut. She curled up on the couch without a blanket or proper pillow, as the linen closet was inside the master bathroom. Hermione was alone, shivering on the couch while Draco slept soundly in their marriage bed.
Present Day
"It's been two days since she left here, Mum. She should help us with the garden. It'll help her."
Ginny had tried everything to convince her mother to get Hermione down from her room. Despite claiming she didn't read, three books were missing from the library. Though Hermione was only taking meals on trays within her room, they knew those books were in there with her, though they didn't know much else. Mrs. Weasley didn't want to admit this was a problem.
"We need to give her some space. But if you insist on bothering a suffering woman, go get her. I'll be in the garden," she huffed, closing the backdoor sternly.
"What was that about?" Ron asked, stepping in from the living room. He'd just gotten back from helping George move into his new apartment in the city when he walked into yet another outburst from his mother. Ginny explained the situation to him while he put down some things George asked him to bring back. Ron decided Ginny was right, so the two journeyed upstairs together.
They knocked and called out for five minutes or more, but Hermione simply asked them to give her some space. Ginny wouldn't have it. She unlocked the door using a simple spell and stepped inside.
"Hermione, what is all this?!" Ginny gasped. Hermione had somehow brought in tons of yarn, possibly from Mrs. Weasley's personal sewing cabinet. Baby things littered the room, all of them sewn by Hermione, who was knitting and reading beside the window.
"Gardening doesn't interest me, but this does," Hermione said sternly.
"Well, are you expecting?" Ron asked. Hermione's eyes clouded over with slight tears, though she hid them well.
"Get out, Ron! Get out, Ginny! I want to be alone! I thought you understood that!" Hermione hissed. Before she could draw her wand to force them out, they left.
"We have to tell Mum about this," Ginny whispered once they were outside. Ron nodded in agreement as soft cries came from within the room. They walked away softly; they didn't want her to know they heard her cry.
Four years ago…
The first four months of Hermione's marriage were rocky and filled with screaming. Hermione could barely buy groceries without getting a Howler from Draco demanding why she was doing whatever it was she was doing. She felt unsafe in her home, constantly spied on by some outside magical source. She hadn't spotted the neighbors yet, specifically the elderly woman who was documenting everything. Hermione knew her because she often sat on her porch or gardened along the property line, but she never suspected the woman knew what was going on inside the house.
Hermione grew ill on the four-month anniversary, causing her to lock herself in the bathroom to be sick. Draco left her be; he didn't want to be a part of her loud retching, so he made himself scarce, staying the weekend with his parents and not returning until late Monday night. By then, Hermione wasn't any better, and Draco had no choice but to take her to a medical center, specifically St. Mungos.
Once there, they did special tests on Hermione. Draco left before they were completed, refusing to return until she could be discharged without throwing up everywhere. The hospital staff eyed him carefully, but Hermione didn't seem to notice how uncaring her new husband was. She just wanted to get well.
When the tests came back that evening, Hermione never expected them to tell her she was pregnant. They staff were excited, smiling brightly and fluffing her pillows with a new energy, but Hermione was too stunned to be excited. She didn't know how Draco would react, and since her "throwing up everywhere" would continue for as long as her body wanted, he might not even let her leave.
But two days later, he returned, escorting her home without a word.
"Did they tell you?" Hermione asked. He grunted, nodding slightly. "What do you think about it?"
"Your mudblood better not keep my child out of Hogwarts," he spat, stunning Hermione into complete silence. He hadn't called her that since their early Hogwarts years, and she thought he'd learned to treat her better after their run-in during their third year.
Once they were home, Hermione found the guest bedroom was now hers. He wanted no part of her, which turned out to be a plus: He didn't yell or hit her for weeks.
When she lost the baby a week after their fifth anniversary, the abuse was relentless. Hermione suffered through, blaming herself for the loss of life. She promised to try harder, letting him take her even though she was scarred from his relentless force. She had to produce an heir, a worthy heir, to make her husband and his family happy. She had to; she felt her life depended on it.