Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling and do not own Harry Potter

Trigger Warning: This chapter will contain some scenes of domestic violence. If this is a problem for you, please read with caution, or wait until the next chapter

Chapter Fourteen

After dinner at Draco's safe house, Hermione sat still, wondering to herself why Ron had felt he needed to hurt her so many times. He was one of her best friends at school, part of the Golden Trio. And seeing how much his family loved him, it just didn't make sense. From what she had been taught by her own parents, children learn from their parents how to behave, and she had never seen either Arthur or Molly strike any of their children. Even her own parents had never hit her as a form of punishment. In fact, given her love of books, her parents had a unique way of punishing her as a child, by removing the bookcase from her bedroom and locking all but her textbooks in a trunk her mum kept in her parents' room.

Lost in thought, she remembered another time Ron had lost his temper with her, shortly after they had come back from dinner at the Burrow, right after Ron had proposed.

… … …

Hermione was smiling as she and Ron entered her flat. Lifting her hand, she again looked at the ring, a small sapphire chip set on a plain gold band. Her birthstone, and she loved it.

"Did you want something to drink, Ron? I have tea, coffee, and butterbeer," she said, walking to the kitchen.

"Butterbeer, then, Hermione. Why don't you have something stronger here? Both of us are old enough to buy and drink something like firewhiskey."

"I guess I never acquired a taste for it enough to keep something like firewhiskey at home. I'll have a glass or two at the Leaky Cauldron, but don't keep it here. I prefer something like brandy when it's hard liquor."

"Then we need to make sure that changes. If I'm here, I'd like to have a firewhiskey now and then. We drank butterbeer when we were kids at school. So you'll go to the package store in Diagon Alley tomorrow to get some for me, then? I'd go, but there's an all-day training meeting at the Ministry I have to go to. Something about policy and procedure in the Games Department."

"I can't either. I promised I would babysit Teddy for Ginny and Harry. He wants to take her to a show and dinner after work. He'll be dropping Teddy off before I come home. And I can't take a child to a package store, Ron."

"So go during lunch, for Merlin's sake. Teddy won't be with you then."

"Why should I buy it if I don't care for it, Ron? You have just as much opportunity to go to the package store as I do. Please, I really don't want to fight about this, not after the lovely evening we just had. I won't object to keeping it here for you if you buy it, but I would rather not buy it myself. It isn't personal, it's just my preference."

"Bloody hell, Hermione, can't you do anything that makes me happy? All I asked you to do is get me a bottle of firewhiskey, for Merlin's sake. Do you always have to be such a rule following swot? It's like we're back at school again."

"Ron, please don't do this. We've just had a lovely evening at your family's house. I don't want to fight. If you want firewhiskey, you can easily buy it after work. I've already said I won't object to you keeping it here."

Without warning, Ron picked up a crystal figurine that had belonged to her mother and hurled it toward Hermione. Ducking, she saw it shatter against the wall, and tears formed in her eyes. That figurine, a perfect rose, had been her father's wedding present to her mother.

"Ronald, how could you do that? That rose was the only thing I was able to save from my parents' house after obliviating them before leaving to join you and Harry. It was all I had left of them beyond the photos."

"Why do we always talk about what YOU don't have anymore, huh? I am so SICK of hearing what YOU don't have anymore, what YOU want to do now the war is over. You're going to be MY wife, and that means that you're no longer your PARENTS' daughter, do you understand me? YOU made the decision to obliviate them, not me. So stop harping on it. Because I don't want to hear it anymore."

Hermione picked up her wand to try to fix the damage, but it was no use. The shards were too small to repair by magic.

"You still want the damn thing, HERE, take it," Ron yelled, beginning to throw the shards.

Although she was able to get out of the way of most of the flying shards, she wasn't quite fast enough to avoid being hit by all of it. She only knew something had hit her when she saw the look of horrified realization come over Ron's face.

"Hermione, you're bleeding. Let me take you to St Mungo's to get that looked at, okay? And next time, try not to make me so bloody mad. This wouldn't have happened if you hadn't made me mad. I'll tell them something like a potion phial broke to explain the cut, and THAT IS EXACTLY WHAT YOU TELL THEM TOO."

Hermione shook her head, asking herself why she hadn't told anyone in his family that night what had happened. Maybe Molly wouldn't have believed her, but it was possible that Bill or Percy, or even Arthur might have believed her. Then she remembered how afraid she'd been that night, and knew why she hadn't talked about it.

She had had no idea just how violent Ron could become, and didn't want to find out.

oOoOoOo

Ron sat at the table across from his solicitor, an expression of shock and disgust on his face.

"You didn't have magical parents? You're a fucking Mudblood?"

"Mr. Weasley, wait here, please," the solicitor asked, rising from the table.

The solicitor walked to the door and opened it, motioning for Arthur and Molly to come in.

"Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, I apologize, but you're going to have to find new representation for your son. I refuse to represent a client who is going to be insulting to me based on nothing more than my blood status. Good day to you."

"Wait just a moment, please, but how did Ron insult you exactly?" Arthur asked.

"Mr. Weasley, your son referred to me as-and I quote-'a fucking Mudblood'-after I told him specifically not to use that word in front of me when talking about Miss Granger, because I'm also Muggleborn."

"Sir, I would like you to reconsider. I apologize for his beha-"Arthur began, when he was interrupted.

"Mr. Weasley, I won't reconsider, and as my father once told me, you can't apologize for others, as what they say or do is their choice, not your own. I can have my secretary send you some names of other solicitors you may be able to retain for your son."

Taking a deep breath, the solicitor picked up his briefcase from the table and left the room.

A few minutes later, as Arthur and Molly tried to think of someone who could represent Ron, the door opened and a guard walked in the room.

"Excuse me, but this just arrived in the post for the prisoner," he said, and handed an envelope and small package to Ron before leaving the room.

Frowning slightly, Ron opened the envelope, and read the note inside, then ripped open the pouch to allow a ring to clatter onto the table. His mouth fell open slightly.

"Ronald, what's wrong, son? Isn't that the ring you gave Hermione?" Arthur asked.

"She gave it back. She said the engagement is over," he said, his voice low.

oOoOoOo

Draco floo'd into the safe house, a woman behind him, and carrying a small box. Hermione looked from one to the other, and then raised a brow at Draco.

"Granger, this is my partner, Chloe Dobkins. She'll be here at night to make sure you're safe until the Weasel has his day in front of the Wizengamot. I've brought the memory phials of the letters we talked about, as well as a pensieve. Maybe you can spot a pattern. As far as records, I'll need to make arrangements for later," he said, setting the box on the table.

"Thank you, Malfoy. I'll look at them, but no promises that I'll find anything."

"Forgive me when I say I hope you can find a pattern, Granger. I want to stop this bastard before the deadline."