Disclaimer; I don't own Harry Potter

A/N Thank you as always to all of my faithful reviewers and any new ones. This story is quite a bit different from the other two, a little darker and dealing with domestic violence. I didnt forget about the "Enchanted" series, I am still writing and updating. Happy reading and dont forget to review.

Life at the Shanly's

It was now 4:59pm. Dinner, consisting of meatloaf, mashed potatoes (from scratch), homemade gravy, green beans and bread and butter, was sitting on the table steaming from heaping bowls. The tiny house was immaculate. Not a spot on the counter, or a crumb on the floor. She had opened a bottle of wine and poured two glasses. But she did not take a sip until he did. At precisely 5pm, a pop could be heard from the dining room.

'Oh please let him have had a good day.' she thought nervously biting her lip.

The tall man walked into the room and embraced her warmly.

"Hello sweetheart."

"Hello darling, I hope your day was good." she smiled sweetly handing him the wine glass.

"It was perfect. Dinner looks excellent as always." he sat in his chair and motioned for her to fill his plate. She heaped food onto it. He was not a fat man, but strongly built. Tall, about 6'4" and 200lbs easy. He ate furiously and talked with her about his day. She ate meekly, picking at her plate. He always said she ate too much, so now she just picked at her food. Keeping herself thin for him. When he would talk about work, she would smile and listen and agree with everything he said. She never gave her own opinion. When he was finished, she cleaned the table promptly and handed him a glass of brandy. He retreated to the living room, leaving her to finish the clean up. She would not join him until all the dishes were done, and the left-overs promptly thrown away. HE did not eat leftovers.

Twenty minutes later she came and sat by him in the living room, in front of a roaring fire. She sat quietly, when he glanced at her, she would smile. Never letting on that she felt far from smiling. At exactly 9pm, they went upstairs to prepare for bed. He would shower first, and then she would. By 10pm, both ready, he would have sex with her, and she would moan and tell him how much she loved him. By 10:10, he was sleeping, and her mind was free to think. She thought of her day, ordinary except for running into Malfoy. She knew she looked terrible, and he, well he looked like a Greek god. He had looked at her bruises with pity in his eyes. If he only knew, well he would probably help the bastard beat her. But for whatever reason he seemed nicer, more mature. He had even smiled at her. That had made her feel really good. Her husband, Steven never truly smiled at her anymore. She had met him 4 years ago while off studying to be a healer. They got married a year later and shortly after he insisted she give up her dream of being a healer and become a full time housewife. When she refused, he had slapped her until handprint sized bruises plagued her face. She had planned to leave that very night, but he had grabbed her and threw her down the basement stairs, where he locked the door and kept her there, no wand, for 2 long days. When he finally unlocked the door, she had been dirty and hungry. He smirked and let her shower and get dressed. Moments later he gave her the schedule. Breakfast at 8, Lunch at 12, Dinner at 5, sex at 10. Period. No exceptions, no pre made food. All from scratch, and no magic to make it. He took her wand to work with him every day. And that's how life had been for the past 3 years. He had even stopped her from seeing her two best friends, Harry and Ron. It had been 2 ½ years since she had spoken to them. Harry had sent her an owl, while Steven was at work. It had read;

Hermione,

Is something the matter? We haven't heard from you in ages. Please answer or we are coming over to talk to you in person.

Love,

Harry and Ron

Before she could throw it into the fire to dispose of it, Steven came home. He said he sensed that she was up to no good. He snatched the letter from her hands. His face became red and he was shaking with fury. He threw some parchment into her hands and forced her into a seat.

"Write" he told her. She began to cry. "Write what I say." his eyes were dark with hate and rage.

"Harry and Ron do not come over here. I am a grown woman and it is my business whom I speak to. Please don't contact me again. I am happy here with my husband and don't need you guys anymore. Thank you. Hermione Shanly." his voice was filled with hate as he spoke those words.

"You don't know them…" she started which was answered with a slap across her face. She copied the words onto the parchment and sent it back with Harry's owl. Her eyes were filled with tears.

"You will never speak to them again. Do you understand?" he asked, touching her arm in a menacing way.

"Yes." she replied weakly. That was the last time she ever heard from them. Malfoy was the first and only familiar face she had seen in a while. She wished it had been someone who was her friend, but he had not been that terrible to her, even tried to make a joke out of the ugly bruises on her arm. She was not sure if he had actually known what they were from, well she hoped not anyway. She wondered what he was doing in muggle London. He was carrying a bag from the outdoor market. Did he shop there? She almost hoped to run into him again someday. Just to have someone new to talk to. He sure did look good. Tall and blonde. And his eyes were clear and sparkling. His full pink lips curved beautifully into a smile. She smiled to herself, and vowed to return to that market the next week just to see if he was there again. That happy thought, even though he was Malfoy, let her fall into a deep peaceful sleep.

Draco awoke the next morning. Wow, had he really slept that long? Must be a new record 19 hours in a row. He stretched as he sat up in bed. It was 9am the next morning. No nightmares, he was feeling good. He called the old house elf and asked her to bring up some breakfast. He didn't feel like dealing with mother. He just wanted to relax in his room, with a good book and eat in peace. Ten minutes later, the elf returned carrying a large silver tray. It was full of eggs, toast, fruit and coffee. He ate like a starving man, not having eaten since the previous morning. He thought about her again, briefly. She had told the man behind the fruit stand she would be back next week. For some unexplained reason he wanted to see her. He had never truly hated her, but he never wanted to be friends either. They were just from different groups. They were just kids in school that had different friends and different lives. He thought about those bruises again. Was she being abused by her husband? Or was she just clumsy? He figured that his past abuse just drove his curiosity about her situation. He vowed to go back to that market at the same time next week just to see if he could find out anything more.

The week passed slowly, but soon enough he was back in his car driving towards muggle London again. He just thought he would go and walk around casually, buy some things. If he saw her, he would casually bump into her and try to talk. He didn't know why this seemed so important to him, but it was. He arrived and parked in the same area. He sat on the same bench and people watched for over an hour. No sign of her. 'Oh well' he thought, probably better off that way. He didn't really need all that emotional baggage after all. He stood up to leave when he heard her voice again floating through the air. She was standing meekly over by the apple stand, looking over apples and putting them one by one in her bag. She had that same thin frail look to her, but her hair was up in a loose bun. She smiled lightly at the old woman selling apples before heading off towards the vegetable area. He took this as an opportunity to follow behind her nonchalantly. He picked up various vegetables and paid for them as he trailed behind her. Then, she stopped at a stand near the end of the row. This was his chance he thought. He walked briskly past her and bumped her shoulder slightly.

"Excuse me." he said "I didn't see you…Granger?" he acted surprised. "Fancy meeting you here again." he smiled at her. She didn't return that smile.

"Yes, quite the coincidence." her brown eyes looked towards the street. "What are you doing here, don't you have servants who shop for you?" she asked bitterly.

"Just the one, but I like to buy my own fresh things. Elves are horrible at picking out apples and things like that."

"Humph…" she replied and went back to looking at potatoes.

"So, how are you?" he tried to make light conversation.

"Just fine."

"Want to have a cup of coffee with me? Talk about old times?" he grinned.

"Sorry, my husband comes home for lunch at noon." she said picking up a bag of onions.

"It's nine am, you have time."

"No, thank you." she said turning to walk away.

"Fine," he said curtly. "See if I ever try to be nice again." and with that he left the market. If she was being abused, that was her own fucking problem, he thought. He was done thinking about it.

She walked back to the car puzzled at what had just happened. Malfoy was here again, in a muggle market. What was he playing at? He invited her, a Mudblood, to have coffee with him. Could he possibly have a soul? No, that's not possible. She sat in her car puzzling for a moment or two before leaving to go home.

He raced at 100mph in his car towards his sleepy country manor. He was infuriated with the whole situation. He had tried to be nice, even though he didn't know why. He arrived home and ran up to his room where he sat brooding on the subject. His bad mood was heightened once again by a note from Pansy. 'Damn' he thought. 'I need to end this now.' he threw her note into the fire, and penned a quick one to her asking her to stop by in about an hour. He was going to get rid of this problem. He had planned to let her down gently, but if she annoyed him, well he couldn't be held responsible for his words. True to her annoying self, she arrived early and entered his room without knocking. She must have thought he called her over for a quick romp because she was dressed very scantily, skirt 5 inches above her knees. Button up white blouse with half the buttons undone and a black lacy bra peeking out. She smiled in her own seductive way and pounced on his bed. She began to unbutton the remaining buttons when he stopped her.

"Don't do that." he said with a straight face. He pulled her off of the bed and onto the sofa in front of the fire.

"What's the matter baby?" she said in that high pitched irritating voice. She then pouted her lips into an annoying formation.

"I think we should talk." he said shortly to her. Her dark eyes gleamed in the firelight.

"What about darling? Wedding plans?" she said perking up.

"No, definitely not, I think we have reached a point in our relationship where we can talk right?" he said, trying to cushion the blow.

"Of course." she said, stroking his hair and tilting her head.

"I need to tell you something." he said batting her hand away. She looked like a wounded animal.

"What is it?"

"I think we need to end this now. I don't want to be mean, or cruel, but I don't love you." he looked in her eyes trying to calm her with his.

"What do you mean?" she said on the verge of sobbing.

"I think we should date other people." he said flatly.

"WHY? WHAT DID I DO?" she wailed. Tears fell freely now.

"You didn't do anything." he said "It's just that we have been together so long it feels like we should be in love. But I am not."

"I will come back when you are more rational." she said standing up to go.

"No, it's over Pansy. I tried to be calm about it, but that's it. Get out and don't come back." he stood up and pushed her out the door and slammed it behind her. He heard her sobbing as she ran for the front door. He felt more pangs of guilt, but it had to be done. Didn't it? Yes. He thought. He sunk back into his couch and picked up a bottle of vivid red liquid. Firewhiskey. He poured himself a large glass and drank it quickly. The fiery sensation ran down his throat, burning it in the process. He had not meant to hurt Pansy, but the truth needed to be said. He was free. Of course mother would be very unhappy, but this was his life. He was lord of this manor now. Three more shots of firewhiskey left him feeling sleepy and wobbly. He laid his head back on the couch and fell asleep. He began to dream almost immediately.

He woke up to screaming coming from his parent's room. He quietly tiptoed down the hall and peered into the room through the crack.

SMACK! And a body hit the floor

"You stupid foolish woman, get up. You know how it is around MY home. Get up and take your clothes off." his father's cruel voice echoed through the hallway. Draco peeked into the room and instead of his mother lying in a crumpled heap on the floor like he expected, he saw Granger. Bones sticking out of her thin pale skin. Nose bleeding, red lashes and bruises covered her frail body. She was sobbing as his father beat her senseless with his cane, laughing with every lash. She looked up and caught Draco's pale eyes with her big brown ones. They were pleading with him for help. Silently, he snuck up behind his father and attempted to take away his weapon. But his father was too quick for him, and the cane found a new mark with a resounding thump. The cane connected with the side of his head and he toppled on the floor next to Granger. She screamed, which was the wrong thing to do. The noise only infuriated his father, who had decided to turn his full attention to Draco. The cane hit him over and over. He heard a rib crack, then another. Then, without warning Granger threw herself over the top of Draco, shielding him from more blows. "Mudblood taking your pain for you? I always knew you were a weakling." he said kicking Draco in the side of the head. Granger screamed, and he kicked her in the face. Her screaming stopped as she slumped over him. Draco gently pushed her off of his chest and with difficulty stood up and faced his father.

Draco woke up in a cold sweat. He looked around the room and soon realized that he was alone and his father was dead. He went into the bath and splashed some water on his face. These nightmares scared the crap out of him. They were always so real. But this time it had not been his mother he witnessed being beat, it was Granger. And instead of watching painfully from the hall he had run in and tried to save her. Not only that, but she had thrown herself on top of him, in the vain attempt to shield him from his fathers blows. His heart was still pounding in his ears when he threw on some clothes and ran out of the house towards his car. He sped off into the sunset not really knowing where he planned to go. He raced back into London, and towards the Leakey Cauldron. He planned to get a drink and have a go in Diagon alley. He entered the pub and the old bartender Tom smiled a toothless grin and poured him a firewhiskey.

"Evening Mr. Malfoy, here you go."

Draco pitched him a few sickles and sat at the bar. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a flash of red hair, intertwined with a mess of black. Potty and the mini-redhead. Great. He put his head low so that they would not notice him. He was in no mood for a confrontation at his point, but maybe, just maybe, they could help.