A/n: Woo... 3 days late of updating.

Chapter 3: The truth?

Hermione went to bed that night. She couldn't even take a shower, and she felt disgusted. Her body felt so sore, tired and cold. She took a towel that she had re-used, that was dipped in a bowl with water that went warm. Each night she'd dubbed her towel onto her shoulders, and if possible, her back. His room was on the next room. She couldn't bear the fact that they had to sleep separated. Why did it have to end up this way?

Why couldn't have been somewhere peaceful? Maybe, a place where they would do what they wanted or loved to do. She dreamed that she would be gardening, or watering the plants, or at working hard on something; he would come out with cold tasty drinks. He would tell her, in his gentlest, softest, lovable voice, "Give it a break, honey. I'll take care of the rest" . She never even asked for children. Even though she adored them. They didn't even have to if he didn't want to. She thought maybe, if they did make a family: she envisioned a little baby boy, he would run up to hug daddy, then kiss mummy on the cheek. And finally he would reach the age of 13, where maybe he would be accepted to Hogwarts, make friends, go through things but hopefully not the types she had to go through. But this was all happening in her head. She dreamed of at least... at least a hug?

She dreamed of a better life.

....She closed her eyes, and dreamed a nightmare.

Knock Knock.

Hermione was still asleep as someone tapped on the door. Her body was curled up; her arms were tucked in carefully. The only time she moved was when she had to pull up her blankets when they fell on the floor.

Seven thirty. Hermione went downstairs to make something. He wasn't home. She had the house to herself, again. This was her time of freedom. She wanted to make something, like a nice breakfast meal: eggs, maybe bacon. But she hadn't bought too much, because of yesterday. More swelling.

Oh... she remembered. She didn't lose any money after all.

"Seven Thirty?!" she looked at the clock. She shouldn't have woken up this early. She should be grocery picking right now.

After fixing herself up, not even bothering to put on make up. Really, she has never been fond of make up, but in this case she had to get used to it. She grabbed a random shirt, because she didn't really care. Nobody wanted to look at her anyways. Nobody wanted to see her look nice anyways. Who'd see her, anyways? She grabbed a sweater, then her purse.

She opened the door only to find, a fancy looking envelope lying on her front door. Without hesitating, Dumb surveys, she opened the envelope. It looked like it has been opened once before?

What? She asked herself. Who sent this letter? It said nothing. The piece of paper looked like it has been ripped and re-used. She flipped it on the other side where it said:

Thanks.

Huh? What was this all about? Thanks? Thanks for what? Okay. Wrong house. She couldn't waste any more time thinking. She shoved the envelope in her purse and started to walk.

Hermione walked out of the grocery shop, with a plastic bag of food that she hadn't gone to buy the day before.

As she walked, the noticed the entrance alley. The abandoned alley she had been walking through yesterady. Never am I walking there again, she told herself. Weird people linger there.

Right as she passed the end of the alley, all she wanted to think of was to get home fast and rest. It wasn't good staying up late and waking up early. She wasn't getting that ordinary 8 hours of sleep thing.

In time, somebody snatched her arm. What the-

"What do you want-" she turned to see the same looking stranger she had encountered yesterday. "... You."

"Yes, me." He said coolly.

"I'm sorry mister, I used the money." She said in a shaky voice. He still clinged on her arm.

"No, I don't want it."

"Then?" she looked at him, then at the arm he was still holding, "Do you like my arm?"

His brow went up. "Because I can't let you steal it and return it." Realising what his hand was holding, he quickly snatched it away.

She didn't even fix it. She didn't even slap him. She turned and walked away. Her sweater went loose, which revealed part of her back and arm.

"Wait." He said. She turned around with a strange expression.

"Yes?"

"What's that?"

What the hell. Hermione was already lost in her head; she didn't need no wacko to make her even more lost.

"Uh .. ?"

The man walked up to her and pointed at her purple swollen bruises, engraved on her back and some on her arm.

Hermione followed the man's gaze and it landed on body. The back and arm. She snapped her head back at him, "I don't know what you're talking about." She lifted up her sweater, but a little too much....

Bastard. What gave him a right to talk to me like that. He has no right! He is nothing but a filthy little—

Whoops.... did she say that a little too loud?

His brow raised.

...and she walked away.