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Author's Notes: I'd like to start by apologizing to everyone out there who read and enjoyed my story and have been waiting to read more. If this is your first read, thank you, if it isn't, thank you for being patient with me.

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Harry was angry. No, angry was too tepid a word, he was furious. He and his wife of nearly 4 years, Ginny, stood, listening to the doctor tick off the number of bruised ribs Hermione had and how long it would take for her to recover from those and her other various other belt inflicted wounds. Ginny listened with a worried crease between her brows, but Harry looked ready to kill. Ginny was nodding as one of the muggle policemen, who had also been called, asked if she thought she could get Hermione to fill out a police report so they could, hopefully, keep this from happening, again. Harry grimaced, and his brow furrowed, doubtfully. Hermione wouldn't do it. She never would. When Ron had broken her wrist because she'd spilled some of his favorite cologne on the floor, she hadn't filled one out. When he'd bruised her jaw so badly that she hadn't been able to talk for nearly a week, all because dinner had been late one night, she hadn't filled one out. And even when he'd forbidden her to continue her dearly loved position at the ministry, due to the fact that it interfered with her duty to him as a good housewife, and had followed that heated discussion with a severe cuff to the head that put her unconscious for several hours, she'd STILL refused to do anything about it.

He shook his head and glanced in the room to their left, at the figure curled up on the hospital bed. Hermione had been nearly hysterical when Harry had insisted on calling both an ambulance as well as the police when he and Ginny had apparated there, only minutes after her phone call to her best friend. She'd been so adamant about not wanting be touched or moved that the paramedics had ended up giving her a mild sedative to calm her before being able to treat her.

She was silent, now, lying on her side, staring, blankly, out the window in front of her. Harry could not recall a time when she had seemed to small and helpless. Ginny finished talking with the doctor and strode into Hermione's hospital room, Harry close on her heels. Hermione didn't move when the edge of the bed dipped as Ginny sat down next to her, nor did she stir when her hand was taken and squeezed, gently.

"Hermione …?" Ginny said, quietly. Hermione turned her gaze to Ginny, listlessly. "Hermione, the police want you to fill out a report…" Hermione had tensed even before Ginny had finished the sentence, but she continued on, anyway. "They can use the police report and the hospital records to get a restraining order against him…." Silence. "Hermione, are you listening to me…? They can keep him away from you…" Hermione looked away from her and back out the window, again.

Ginny and Harry exchanged a glance. Then Harry sighed. He'd said nothing, yet and he wasn't sure how to start. When Ginny had first come to him, suspecting what was going on in her older brother's household, Harry had been more than skeptical. Bold, headstrong Hermione? Fun-loving, teasing Ron? It wasn't possible that he could be treating her with anything but love. However, the first time Harry had heard Hermione attempt to explain away the bruises on her cheek and forehead as the product of a fall, he'd known that his wife's suspicions were correct. His own anger over the situation was impossible to convey. He could not fathom what went through Ron's head when he first began this treatment, and he could no better place the thoughts of Hermione when she accepted it as her due. Now, trying to control his confusing emotions, he took a place next to Ginny on Hermione's hospital bed and covered his wife's hand with his own over the other girl's.

"Hermione. Ginny and I have talked about this, and we've decided that you're going to come and stay with us, when they release you. No, don't even bother protesting," He interjected as she immediately began shaking her head in denial. "We've already set up the guest room for you. Ginny and I absolutely insist." His tone brooked no disobedience, and suddenly it became softer and more pleading. "'Mione, you can't go back. If you do, you aren't just jeopardizing your own life; you're also risking the life of your baby." The eyes that gazed at him now were moist with unshed tears that still refused to fall, but she nodded, almost imperceptibly, then returned her gaze to where it had been before she spoke for the first time since she'd been checked in.

"How long?" Her voice was merely a whisper and it echoed off the sterile white walls of the single room she'd been placed in. Harry's glance slid to Ginny before he answered.

"3 or 4… ah... 4 days, probably…"

"They think I'm suicidal?" The question came out bitterly and Ginny felt the need to tread, carefully.

"Herm, you were… ah…a little…"

"Hysterical… oof!" Ginny elbowed her husband in the ribs, sharply, for his contribution.

"Obstinate…" Ginny corrected, gently, "When they brought you in, earlier… They decided that maybe a psych consul would be the best thing at this point, before they release you…"

"I see." Her tone was unconcerned and even a little amused, though one would not have been able to derive this from her facial expression. Before much else could be said, a tall, no-nonsense-looking nurse had entered the room and informed two of its three occupants that visiting hours were over and that the patient would need her rest. Harry kissed Hermione's cheek and Ginny attempted a light hug before the nurse shooed them out, impatiently. Hermione shifted, slightly, and closed her eyes, drifting off to a dreamless sleep.

The resident psychiatrist lifted the brand spanking new case file from his desk and scanned it, briefly, as he depressed the tiny play button on the side of the small recorder.

"Patient is a 28-year-old female, admitted after a domestic disturbance with her spouse occurred at her residence, late this evening. Patient displays recalcitrant conduct and a refusal to accept the behavior of her spouse as abusive. Possibly suicidal, although more likely a case of simple obstinacy." One finger clicked and held the pause button, however, it was immediately released.

"Side note: patient is 8 months pregnant and of the magical community. Husband works for the Ministry." He pressed the stop button and set the device down on his desk, taking up the case file to stare at it, as though the answers would appear on its manila cover.

Dr. Draco Malfoy sighed, shaking his head, and, after dropping the ever-silent file, rested both elbows on his desk, and his head on his laced together fingers.

"Hermione Weasley."

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Author's Notes: If you enjoyed this and would like more, please let me know. More soon! I hope…

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