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Author's Notes: Draco will eventually become a part of this, most likely the NC-17 part, and it will be a Draco/Hermione pairing, however, preliminaries and backgrounds must be set, first. Although this isn't my first fanfic, it is certainly the first I've ever posted, here, so please read, review and enjoy.

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Hermione sat at her dressing table expertly applying pale make-up to the bruised area around her left eye, with a wince. Setting down the bottle of foundation, she frowned at her reflection and lightly palpitated the dark spots. Not as bad as it could be, she thought, At least he didn't break open the skin, this time. She sighed and stood, carefully, the extra weight of her now rather prominent tummy getting in her way, as usual. Mentally, as well as physically, exhausted, she stretched out on her bed, curling up to take a nap. Which she would have done, had the phone not decided to ring when it did. Wearily, she glared at it, willing whomever it was to hang up, but finally fumbled for the receiver on the 5th ring.

"Hello…?" she answered, tiredly.

"Hermione? It's Ginny.. " Her best friend's voice held a small amount of worry. "Where were you, last night, we waited for you…"

"Um.." She struggled to find a plausible excuse. "Ron and I talked about it, and he'd rather I didn't go out so much, right now…" That was true enough. It was what they'd fought about. Ginny made a sound close to a disgusted snort.

"You're pregnant, not an invalid. You can still come out with us and have a little fun," she said. Hermione sighed, again. Her eye hurt, her stomach was twisting, and she was starting to get a massive headache.

"Ginny, I have to go. I don't feel all that well, I need to take a nap." There was a stony silence on the other end of the line, for a moment. Then…

"It happened, again, didn't it, Hermione." Ginny's tone made quite clear that this was a statement, not a question.

"Nothing happened, I'm just tired, that's all." There must have been a quiver in her voice, because Ginny immediately insisted on coming over and, before Hermione could protest, had hung up the phone. Hermione replaced the receiver on the phone base and lay back, resting her arm over her eyes. After what felt like only a minute or two, she heard a sharp rap on her door. She sat up, assuming she must have fallen asleep and rubbed her eyes to clear the sleep from them, sliding off the edge of the bed to pad towards her front door. After taking a quick look through the peephole, she opened the door to admit her extremely concerned looking friend, who hugged her, quickly.

"Hermione.." Ginny spoke softly, "You can't keep letting him do this.. " Hermione frowned and pulled away, mutely, moving to sit on one end of the couch, eyes downcast.

"…he doesn't mean to…" Hermione whispered, "..it's my fault… if I weren't so argumentative all the time-"

"Is that what he tells you?" The normally sweet voice of her best friend was replaced by a bitterness Hermione'd heard before, when they discussed this particular topic. "He used to call you spirited… now it's argumentative?"

"Ginny, please…" Hermione's voice was pleading. "Please don't make something more out of it then it is… he loves me and he swore he'd never do it again-"

"Like the last three times he swore he'd never do it again?" Ginny interrupted. Hermione continued on as though she hadn't heard her.

"And he's doing much better, now, especially since I got pregnant…" Ginny sat down next to Hermione and rested her hands on the other girl's shoulders.

"Hermione, you have to promise me that if he hits you, again, you'll call me, so I can come get you." Ginny's eyes were darkly serious.

"Ginny, he-"

"Promise."

"But he's-"

"Promise."

"Ginny, it isn't-"

"Hermione. Promise." Hermione's shoulders sagged and she nodded her agreement.

Sometime later, after Ginny had left, and dinner was well into being prepared, Hermione sat at the kitchen counter, sipping some hot tea and waiting for her husband to return from work. She involuntarily tensed when she heard a key in the lock, the door swinging open a moment later to admit a tall red-haired man sporting dark sunglasses. She offered him a weak smile as he slipped over to her, setting a bouquet of large red roses in her lap and kissing her cheek, gently.

"I'm sorry, love.." he whispered, softly, near her ear. She smiled a bit wider and kissed his cheek, in return. She knew everything would work out.

"It's alright…" she answered, quietly. She then stood, setting about putting the flowers in a vase and finishing their dinner. The meal passed without incident, Ron telling her about his day, nonchalantly, as though he wasn't speaking to the pregnant woman he'd hit the night before…

Afterwards, once Hermione had finished cleaning up the kitchen and was settled into bed with a cup of her favorite tea and a book, Ron approached the bed from their closet, looking a bit agitated.

"Hermione, where's my dark gray shirt?" he asked.

"You had me send it to the dry cleaners, remember?" Just two days ago he'd gotten on her case for not taking the items earlier then she had.

"It should be ready, by now, didn't you go pick it up, today?" His voice had taken on a slightly menacing tone that made her fidgety.

"Um.. well, I… didn't have time… I overslept, this morning…" She didn't add that the reason she'd done so was because she'd been up crying half the night. "I can go pick them up first thing in the morning, before your meeting, if you want… " Her own voice turned partially pleading.

"Hermione, the meeting is at 7 am! I told you about this, weeks ago, how important this was! I told you I needed that shirt for this meeting!" With each angry word he was advancing on the bed. Hermione shrunk away, towards the wall, nervously, and already starting to tremble, lightly.

"I.. I'm sorry.." her voice was a mere whisper, "I.. you could.. wear a different shirt…?"

"The only other shirt I have that I could wear matches a pair of pants that you sent to the cleaners with that shirt!" He suddenly lunged forward and grabbed her upper arm, hauling her up to eye level with him, ignoring her soft gasp of pain.

"Ron, please…" She twisted her arm, weakly, in an attempt to get him to let her go, but he held her fast, working on unbuckling his belt at the same time. Her eyes widened when the belt zipped out of the belt-loops and up over his head.

"Why do you make me do this to you, huh...?" was the last thing she heard before the belt came down, hard, on her upper back, and she squeezed her eyes shut, tightly, letting out a short yelp of pain, struggling to get free of his grip. But it was firm, and her cries of pain became helpless whimpers as the belt descended over and over, again, on her back, legs, backside, and thighs. When he finally released her, she dropped to the bed in a heap, her whole body feeling as though it were on fire. She lay there, crying, softly, curled up into a tiny ball with her arms over her stomach, protectively. Ron said something that she couldn't make out and then slammed out of the house. Desperately trying to catch her breath around the pain and the sobs racking her small frame, she pulled herself up in to a sitting position, with a wince. When she could move without feeling as though the entire back half of her would burst into flames, she gingerly picked up the phone and dialed the number she knew by heart.

"Ginny….?"

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Author's Notes: If you enjoyed this and would like more, please let me know.

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