A/N: This fic is one I was thinking about before the HBP came out, but now it's sort of solidified. If you haven't yet read HBP (Shame on you) then be warned that there are spoilers here. There is also explicit and sometimes non-consensual sex and violence. If you are old enough and mature enough to deal with that, read on. Otherwise, don't blame me for ruining the book or hurting your psyches. Please review.

Thanks to:

Celeste Noir: I agree. She is going to have to come to terms with what happened. And so is he….

Threepastmidnight: Same time, hmmm, yes….

Kichou: Again, thanks...

Sayaka: Thanks. I think I'm too much a romantic to want them to not find happiness, but they will definately have to work for it...And I know these are hard issues. I used to work in a Rape Counciling office during my undergrad years. On the other hand, it's a very prevelant problem that I think needs to be addressed. It's also one of the facts of war. It's an easy way to hurt the opposite side. Remember, rape is about power, not sex. That's what Hermione is going to have to come to grips with before she can have a relationship.

Ashley48506: I know, aren't they adorable? I want them to seem like they have seen enough to have grown up a bit...they have their own demons to work through...

dog-demon3: Don't be sad, things will perk up...at least for a while...until she has to face normal life...hmmm...maybe I should make this a dark fic...

It's so nice to know someone is reading…it means a lot to an author when people review.

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. You all know that.

When I awoke the next morning I saw that George was already awake, the cot pushed against the wall. I quickly got out of the bed and went to the loo, which was right across the hall. I glanced in the mirror. A frightening and frightened face gazed back.

There were bruises in the shape on hand prints on both cheeks, and one eye was blackened. My lower lip was swollen. I had a large bruise across my throat. Looking at my hands, I realized the skin on their backs was raw from the sticking charm. Removing the rest of my clothing, I saw the bruises on my breasts from his hands, on my thighs from his knees.

Sighing and willing myself not to start crying again, I sat on the toilet to relieve my overly full bladder. God, it even hurt to pee. That was the final straw, and the tears came to my eyes again.

I decided that the world always looks better after a hot shower, so I turned the water on full blast and adjusted the temperature.

I hadn't thought to bring my toiletries into the bathroom, so I decided that their boy shampoo would have to do for now. Although, given the texture of my hair, I should probably go get my own….oh well. Given the bruises on my face, no one will notice if my hair is a little bushier than normal…

After I was clean, I did feel a lot better. I dried of with a giant towel and wrapped it around me. Unlocking the door, I peeked my head out to see if there was anyone in the hall. I gathered up the clothing I had slept in, and made a dash across the hall into George's bedroom, my sanctuary.

Quickly closing the door, I turned around. Seeing movement, I let out a shriek. "AAAKK!"

George looked up from where he was putting away some laundry and let out a muffeled yelp of his own. "Blimey, Hermione, you scared me to death!"

"I scared YOU!" I was torn between anger and fear. "Why is it that every time I take a shower I come back to find a man in my room!"

"Oh, God, Hermione. I'm so sorry. I….I'll be waiting outside. It didn't even occur to me…I…" flushing until his face matched his hair, George scuttled past me to make a hasty exit.

Oh, good job, Granger. Yell at your savior.

Savior?

Now, more confused than ever, I dug out some clean clothing from my trunk, thankful that the boys had brought it to their flat. Something loose and concealing and comfortable….sweatpants and a tee-shirt. Perfect. A sports bra…definitely…some of the granny panties I usually save for that time of the month….that'll do…some fuzzy footie socks….yes….

Getting dressed, I decided to also keep on the huge Weasley sweater I had slept in last night. It was warm and it made me feel safe…

I went back over to the mirror and, grabbing my wand, muttered a few charms to help my bruises fade. Then, with a breath, I also cast a concealer charm to help cover them up, and a charm on my hair to make it less…well…less.

Padding back to the door, I opened it to see George still in the hall, blushes fading.

"George. I'm sorry I yelled. I was just surprised and jumpy. I know you'd never…hurt me."

"Hermione, I should have made more noise or left the door open. It's my fault. I knew you'd be jumpy…"

"Well, let's just forget it, OK?" I asked.

"Of course. Hungry? Fred's making breakfast…he's actually not a bad cook."

"Um, yeah, sure." Actually, I was hungry. I hadn't eaten more than that one piece of pizza in almost 24 hours. But my stomach was a bit roiled from the earlier surprise. I smiled tentatively up at George. "Sorry if I was being a bit of a bitch, I mean, it's your room after all. It just startled me to come back and find you in there…forgive me?"

George smiled back. "Forgiven. You don't even have to ask." And with that, he offered me his arm and escorted me into the kitchen.

Somehow, after a shower and a heaping stack of pancakes, things always look better.

After breakfast, I went to wash the syrup off my face and hands and brush my teeth (both of my parents are dentists, after all) and headed back to the kitchen. Only to walk in on a heated discussion.

"She can come with us. You can't even see the bruises today."

"She's not going to want to go out and face people yet, Fred. One of us should stay here with her."

"It's the week before Christmas. We can't stay here."

"Lee will be at the shop, and so will Maria and Carey. We have plenty of help."

"If she goes, she can help, too. I know we will be OK if one of us stays here with her, but don't you think she might like something to do? Take her mind of it, and all?"

"Um, guys. I'm right here, why don't you just ask me?" I was a little exasperated. They were starting to remind me of Harry and Ron.

They both jumped at my voice and turned to face me.

"Well, ah, Hermione, ah, er, you see…the thing is….ah, well, that…"

"It's your busy season and you need everyone there. And you feel guilty leaving me here alone with nothing to do. Yes, I understand your dilemma."

"Oh, well, then…um…"

"Please. I am not made of glass. The store is RIGHT DOWN STAIRS. I think I can manage to be here alone. If you have some slow times, you can always pop up and check on me."

"Why didn't I think of that?" Fred muttered…

"Really, I'm not made of glass. I'll be OK." I was glaring now. I really appreciated what they had done, but deep down I knew I needed some space right now to sort through everything on my own.

"All right, then," Fred said. "We'll be right down stairs. Yell like our Mum if you need anything…we'll hear you." And with a grin, he headed down the stairs.

"I'll be up to check on you in a bit," George said, as he followed his twin out.

Silence. Well, relative silence. There was noise coming from the shop down stairs. But it was muted.

I wandered around, cleaning up after breakfast. Doing the dishes and putting them away. Folding the clean laundry that was in a pile on Fred's bed. Looking around, I realized this was very much a bachelor pad. Things had that slightly dingy, good enough look that you can only get in a place inhabited solely by males.

Before I knew what I was doing, I had begun cleaning with a vengeance. The mop was busy in the bathroom and kitchen, the windows were becoming fingerprint free, the wood was glowing from its dusting and oiling…and the smell was changing, loosing that slight aroma of boy.

Looking at the clock on the wall, I noticed it was 11:30. Most of the non-food oriented establishments in Diagon Alley closed at noon for a lunch break, andto the best of my knowledge,the joke shop would do likewise. I assumed that meant that the boys would be up to check on me then, and decided to have lunch waiting for them.

I had no sooner gotten out the fixings for a hearty lunch when I heard heavy footsteps on the stairs followed by the door opening.

"I'm in here!" I called from the kitchen. Momentarily, the twins, followed by their friends Lee Jordan, came into the kitchen.

"Hermione! What's all this?" Fred asked.

"Well, since I wasn't busy and I knew you were, I thought I'd get lunch ready. Hungry?" I asked.

They didn't even answer as they fell on the food. I could hardly contain a laugh at the sight of the three boys shoving sandwiches in their faces.

"Hermione, you can stay with us anytime!" Fred joked.

"I think I'm in love. And jealous. My houseguests never fix my lunch." Lee grinned at us.

"Well, this evening after you close, we should get some more supplies. I don't mind cooking at all, but I wanted to make something special for Christmas dinner. And I'd prefer not going alone…I need help carrying bags…"

Understanding my hesitancy, Fred piped in, "You're on!"

After eating about a half a dozen sandwiches, Fred and Lee excused themselves, heading back to the shop to get ready for the afternoon. George helped me carry dishes to the sink and put away the mustard and such.

"Hermione, I…it even smells better in here. You must have been busy this morning" George said, breaking the silence.

"Well, I gave me something to do. I promise I didn't pry into anything. I know how Ron is about his privacy…"

"Hermione," he started, "thank you for fixing lunch. For cleaning. For, well, everything. I…I want you to know you're welcome to stay here anytime. And you don't have to clean. Really. Just make yourself at home."

"Um, George, I was making myself at home. I clean at home, you know."

At this he blushed. "Well, OK, then, whatever. Well, I'll be back up in a bit. I really do need to get back down there…"

And with that, he left to join Fred and Lee.

I spent the afternoon making the flat into a place where a girl would be comfortable. I added curtains and plants; I cleaned the floors and added rugs. I organized. It was fun.

I then decided to fix dinner. Although the ingredients available were a bit limited, I cobbled together meatloaf and potatoes and peas, and made a cobbler for desert.

The twins came home to the smell of the apple cobbler and cinnamon and a clean flat. The looks on their faces were priceless.

After dinner and cobbler, we were sitting around the table, the twins telling me about their day. After a time, the conversation began to lag and I noticed the significant glances being sent back and forth between my erstwhile hosts.

"We were wondering if you've made any plans yet, Hermione? Have you thought about what you want to do? Or about contacting the ministry?" I glared at Fred.

"We were thinking that you might want to talk to Tonks, since she's an auror and deals with catching Death Eaters. And she's familiar…and she's been through a lot, herself…" I switched my glare to George. "Hermione, we won't make you…but, well, she'll understand and she'll have good ideas about what to do….beyond mine and Fred's that is, since we can't seem to get past using beater bats on numerous parts of his anatomy once we track him down…"

This made my glares stop, as I was too busy imagining how fun that would be….

All right. They were right. I knew it. And Tonks was cool…and she was a girl…maybe this was a good idea. Huh, a good idea from the twins. "Let me think about it while we shop for food. I like to cook, but I prefer having what I need to do it…"

"Um, Hermione, did you want to change first?" Fred asked carefully.

I looked down, realizing what I was wearing was pretty dirty from cleaning, and blushed. "Yeah, I guess so, give me a minute." I said as Iwent into George's room to change.