Happy Sunday loves!

Quick things,

Please mind your triggers, this chapter is darker than others and features some non-con scenes.

Also, please review! I hope the fic has been okay so far, I know I'm surprised at how much I'm enjoying the writing process...if only got this excited about my assignments:(

Lil heads up, I am heading back to uni soon so the uploads will probably (hopefully so I actually do my school work) be more spaced apart.

Lastly, I know the dramione thing is slow building but it'll be worth it, I swear.

As always, thank you for reading and don't forget to review! *kisses*

Hermione's days started blending together, she'd go to work, solve some case that came across her desk, some required a couple days but none as taxing as the Gringotts one, she'd then come home and spend the night with Ron. She could tell he was getting antsy stuck in the flat all day and their arguments concerning his job, or lack thereof, were getting more frequent.

One begun on a remarkably tired day, where Hermione's patience had been struck down to the bone trying to be pleasant with her superior, Kendra the Incompetent Parsons.

"Why is it so out of the ordinary to suggest a trip?" Ron argued. He had taken the stance that a trip would be good for them, somewhere warm, with sun, so Hermione could get her brain fried sitting at beaches, staring at nothingness.

"Because I don't want to Ron, why can't that be enough?"

"I am going insane 'Mione, sitting in this tiny flat day and night with nothing to do."

"Well get something to go! No one's stopping you."

Ron ran his fingers through his hair, already knowing where this was heading.

"No, seriously", Hermione continued, "I don't understand why you just sit complaining about being bored when nothing is stopping you from finding a job, or even a hobby."

"Not everyone knows what they want to do Hermione! Not everyone finds joy in sitting at a desk for 10 hours a day."

"No one is telling you to do that. I know Harry wouldn't mind you joining him with his Auror hunts."

"Because that's all I'll ever be right? Harry Potters little side kick."

Hermione threw the novel she was reading at the table, standing up to meet his height, "Why do you do that Ron. You are in and of yourself, incredible. I'm just saying that if you don't want to sit in my little flat, and you don't want to sit behind a desk, then go hunt something."

Ron sat down at their quant dining table, suddenly tired of having the same fight over and over again, "Because, I do not want to go anywhere without you." He muttered into his hands.

"What?" His honesty caught her off guard, she just assumed he was here because he had nowhere better to be, could it really be for her?

Ron looked up at her with exasperated amusement, "You know for the smartest person I know, you are seriously quite dumb if you can't tell how utterly infatuated I am with you."

She giggled, clapping her hand to her mouth, "What? Sorry, I didn't quite catch that."

"Let me explain," Ron continued, "I am completely, wholeheartedly, blindly in love with you and I can't imagine spending any minute of my life without you."

Hermione's breathe hitched as her brain rushed ahead, foreshadowing what she refused to believe was about to happen.

"The reason I want to go on a vacation," Ron spoke again, "Is so I can do this at a more … scenic place than your dining table but considering how utterly stubborn my girlfriend is," he gulped, "here goes nothing."

Ron stood up off his chair, grabbing Hermione's hands and bringing her up to join him. "I am the luckiest man alive to have been able to spend the last decade with you, would you allow me the rest of my life?"

Ron took a knee, pulling out a little velvet box and opening it to reveal a magnificent opal ring. It had diamonds encrusted around the stone with a gold band, twinkling to look like fairies had made it themselves. "Will you, Hermione Jean Granger, marry me?"

Hermione fell to her knees, not even realizing when she had started crying. The faint tears transformed to blubbering and she could simply nod her head.

"Yes? Hermione is that a yes?"

Hermione gasped between sobs, "Yes, yes, a million times yes."

Ron shoved the ring into her ring finger, and grabbed her, both falling to the floor with tears. "How, where did you-

"Ginny helped me find it on my visit to see them, she says congrats by the way."

An uncontrollable bunch of giggles burst from her as she stared at her ring and the dashing redhead in front of her. After her parents, she had assumed that she had no family left but this man in her arms was all she was ever going to need.

"I hope you know I'm not changing my last name," she pouted.

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

Hermione was trying to read the project Kendra had placed in front of her at least an hour ago but the glittering weight on her finger kept capturing her attention. She toyed with it, waiting for it to disappear, but there it remained, as attention grabbing as before. Hermione slid it off her finger and back on, but…huh…it wouldn't quite get to the end of her finger. Stopping a couple centimeters before. She shoved harder but it simply didn't budge and instead irritated her skin to the point of discomfort.

She huffed, thinking about transfiguring it by magic but scared that her minimal jewellery manipulation training would end up causing irreversible harm. She'd have to take it to a professional.

Still, Hermione felt the weight of the ring constantly, whether she was reading, making tea, or even in the shower, she'd just stop to look at it, still not believing that it was there. The witch was sure that everyone around her could see it too, that they knew that she wasn't deserving of this glamour.

On a day like any other, her anxiety was confirmed when no other than Malfoy walked into her lift.

"Good morning," she tried politely, they hadn't spoken since that dreadful morning she woke up in his flat but surely, he was past that by now.

Draco simply nodded at her, turning his back away completely.

"The polite answer is Good morning to you too, dickhead." Hermione startled herself at her tone. She should've just ignored him, let him get off the lift at his stop and never communicate again but something about the little bastard's inability to just be civil made her want to bash his face in.

"Someone's in a mood…what, is the opal not big enough for the Golden Girl?"

She gasped slightly, surprised that he had even noticed the ring, let alone the kind of stone. Their floor arrived before she could articulate an appropriately insulting response and he was gone. A seed of annoyance grew, and right there, Hermione decided that that was the last time he would ever get to walk away from her first.

Her phone buzzed, and she inspected it immediately. The only person that ever texted her was Ron that even that was rare.

(future) Mrs. Granger, would you please accompany me to dinner tonight?

Wait! Before you say no, we can hit Flourish and Blotts after.

She hated going to dinners, what was the point? People forced to serve you just so you can eat overpriced food with the option of either staring at the person in front of you or just gawking at others eat.

The bookstore though…Hermione was already looking forward to scratching off some books on her To Be Read List, Ron knew her too well and Hermione begrudgingly typed out a yes.

They arrived at the bookstore with barely enough time for her to browse. Dinner had been stupidly boring and taken senselessly long and she had been itching to get lost in the smell of books and history all evening.

She had barely finished an aisle when Ron spoke up, "Er…Hermione, do you mind if I head over to Quality Quidditch Supplies? There's a new broom out."

Hermione smiled into aisle; she was wondering how long it would take him to make an excuse and head out. She preferred browsing on her lonesome anyway, "Of course not, have fun."

He leaned in for a quick peck before dashing out and Hermione lost herself in the aisles and aisles of literature. The scrawny, hunched old lady that owned the store came over and tapped on Hermione and then then pointed at the clock, indicating that the store was closing. The girl blushed crimson and quickly purchased the ever-growing pile of books in her arms without thinking twice and rushed out to find Ron.

Except he wasn't alone.

Her breath caught in her throat, her satchel of books almost tumbling out of her hand when she saw Ron chatting with Seamus across the street.

Shit, shit, shit, shit.

Maybe Seamus wouldn't mention her at all, or even if he did, maybe he wouldn't mention how Draco had been on the team, or how he had taken her home or all of the other things she had hidden. Hermione warily waved at Ron when he looked over, his face seeming happy and carefree like always.

He said his goodbyes to Seamus and marched over, his thumps ricocheting off the pavement and through her head.

"Hey, all good?" He asked.

Hermione let out the panic building with a shaky breath and almost fell over with relief, "Yes, yes. Let's go home."

They apparated back to her neighborhood and neither spoke on the walk to her flat. Weird that he hadn't mentioned anything about the new broomstick, not that she would have cared enough to actually listen, but Ron was always bursting to talk about the latest mumbo jumbo improvements.

She was just over analyzing his behaviour, she said to herself, everything was completely fine. She was fine. And yet, Hermione was unable to let go of the uneasy feeling growing in her stomach.

One she hadn't gotten since the war. One that usually indicated imminent danger.

She unlocked the door with shaky hands and let Ron in, glancing briefly at his face. She couldn't place anything out of the ordinary and yet, the feeling…

She had to bite the bullet and just ask; knowing her anxiety would cause her to implode at any second.

"So, what did Seamus have to say?" She tried, innocently, but her throat caught midway and it came out rushed. Hermione attempted at acting casual by heading over to the kitchen to brew a tea, but she felt Ron freeze at her question. The atmosphere became dense and a sense of unease spread to her fingertips.

The witch set the pot on the stove and turned around to see Ron watching her. "Nonsense, I thought." He strode closer, "Until now…why're you so curious?"

"What no, I was just wondering." Hermione stammered, too fast yet again. Breathe Hermione. For the love of god.

Ron was closer now, she could reach out and touch him, bring him back to her. Except he didn't look like Ron, there was a glint in the redhead's eye and he was towering over her in a manner she had never witnessed.

"Seamus was under the false impression that Malfoy was on the team with you guys. He, for some reason, believed that not only did you two spend the week together on it, but that you even went out to drinks with him." Ron whispered, looking for answers in her eyes.

"Tell me he's mistaken Hermione."

She was frozen, unable to move. Maybe they could just talk it out, maybe it would be fine.

"Because you wouldn't lie to me right. My fiancée wouldn't do that to me." He muttered. She could feel his breath on her, the cinnamon she often found comfort in, overwhelming. He reached to caress her cheek, moving his thumb, stroking her lips but it wasn't comforting. Too gentle. Too unlike Ron.

"Tell me he's lying baby." Ron's voice was lower than she'd ever heard it. Hermione willed herself to say something, to do something, but her body refused to move.

She could handle this, if she would just…where was her wand?

He reached and tucked a loose curly hair strand behind her ear, his hand trailing to the back of her head. She felt a gentle tug on her scalp as the man tilted her head back and kisses her softly. "Why won't you answer me?"

"I - … Ron, listen," she tried, her voice hoarse, filling with a weakness that disgusted her Gryffindor soul, "We worked together but there were other people there too, it didn't mean anything."

She felt his grip tighten on her hair and words tumbled out of her. "We all went out to celebrate on completing the case. I swear, Ron, it was nothing, we were barely ever alone." His face was inches from hers and she swore that this was it. This was where his gentle murmurs turned into anger, into violence but then…he kissed her.

Hard.

Their bodies hit the wall and Ron became ravenous. Claiming every inch of her mouth with his tongue, breathing his life into her.

"Another lie." He mumbled on her mouth, "I know that you're weren't at Daphne's that night."

Her breath hitched in her throat, but she didn't push him away. Was this what everyone called jealousy sex? She could do this; she could handle this person until Ron came back to her. Just breathe, breathe Hermione.

Ron reached for her, lifting her up and placing her on the rickety dining table, mouth still on hers. He took a break, looking deep into her eyes while reaching for her skirt and ripping it off. Hermione's eyes grew wide, she hadn't seen him like this before. His hands glided up her thighs and his lips found hers again, except it was deeper this time, with something to prove.

Ron reached her knickers and her eyes widened, surely, he wouldn't, no, of course not.

Ron pushed her knickers aside with his fingers and didn't hesitate to shove them inside her. His dark eyes found hers and a satisfaction bloomed when Hermione gasped and clutched on to him.

"Is this what he did to you that night?"

It was happening too fast; she didn't have enough time to cast a lubrication charm. Where the hell was her wand? Ron pumped her with his fingers, dry, his eyes never leaving Hermione's face.

"Ow, Ron, the friction." Ron's eyes darkened and he shoved harder, pumping faster. "Ron…Ron that hurts. RON."

"Did you scream his name too?" Their faces inches from each other.

"What? Stop. Ron, STOP." His fingers stopped abruptly, and he yanked them out, his hands resting on either side of Hermione as the man's face fell into her lap.

"Why can't you see Hermione. He's nothing. I love you. He will never love you like I do."

She clenched her eyes, trying to come to terms with what had just happened. Neither of them moved, time becoming irrelevant.

At some point the boy began to shake, and bursts of sobs filled the deafened air. Her thighs caught his tears while her heart unwillingly broke for her best friend. The boy, the man, she loved more than herself. Her hands brushed through the wavy red locks, trying to soothe him.

With fear, she realized that at this moment, she had not a shred of anger at the weeping boy, just an urge to comfort.

The realization disgusted her more than the events of the evening.

She wanted to be angry, to yell, to scream, to turn away and never look back but how could she turn away from him, her entire world. Her person.

She wondered if the sorting hat would still place her in Gryffindor.

"Ron," she whispered.

His head shifted, slowly looking up, his expression filled with fear, regret and a hint of shock, "Hermione. Please don't leave, Hermione –

"I'm not going anywhere, breathe, Ron, I'm here." She didn't realize she meant the words until they tumbled out, could she even leave if she wanted to? She didn't know anything else.

A new set of sobs burst from his chest, relief pushing out his other emotions.

Hermione started again, her voice soft but forceful, "I love you, more than anything Ron. Malfoy will never hold a candle to how much I feel for you. He's irrelevant."

"I know 'Mione, I know. I just forgot for a little while."

Ron seemed to come back to his senses, straightening up and clearing his throat, "Listen, I need some space okay? I'll be back in…" he trailed off.

Hermione nodded, surprised at how much she was looking forward to being alone for a while but hiding the slight optimism with a solemn, "Okay."

Hermione had passed the last couple days in a trance, her mind reeling yet again with a different Ron than she had known. She'd heard all those stories in the papers with toxic boyfriends and women who couldn't get out and always imagined that should she ever be in that scenario, not that she'd let it happen in the first place, but that she'd just leave at the first sign of trouble.

The women weren't with Ron though, they weren't with men that were mostly perfect, that could be beautiful and good and make them feel so loved and just, at times, had some faults. The men in the papers were evil, evil, and Ron was simply not like that. She wasn't the type of girl that just ran away and deserted her best friend anyway, most of her job as his person was to be there for him, right?

It was at times like these that she missed her mom the most, her mom would've embraced her, made her tea and know exactly what to say to make it better. Hermione's eyes burned as the box she kept hidden in a dark corner of her mind threatened to burst. Her brain buzzed with warning and Hermione clenched her jaw, pushing the lid back on with all of her force and clearing her mind.

Hermione had her Occlumency training today and the last thing she needed was for Daphne to know more about her than absolutely necessary. She examined her thoughts again, pushing everything about Ron as far back as it could go. Hermione wasn't aware if this was actually doing anything, but her book Occlumency for Beginners had indicated that she should just visualize it happening with a calm mind, and it would.

The newly, empty minded witch arrived at the supposed room indicated on her letter for where her training would occur. A long dark-haired man was already waiting, for an instance her thoughts flitted to Sirius, he had the same exaggerated cheek bones, deep set eyes and even the same stance but his expression held none of the same warmth or love but rather boredom.

"Ah, the Miss Granger, I presume?"

"Yes, Daphne Greengrass is meant to train me."

"I am aware, I will be present to monitor progress and will conclude the session once you have the basic knowledge."

Hermione gulped, hoping Occlumency was an innate talent of hers so that she could get out of the office early.

"Please do not fret, Miss Granger, the ministry only requires basic knowledge so you should be able to leave shortly, considering your intelligence."

Hermione sighed at the line; she wished her intelligence was enough, but this was not something that she had been able to learn in her books and in those cases, her mind flitted to Quidditch, she was rarely talented.

Daphne arrived shortly, her hair up tight in a pony tail with not a single strand out of place. She wondered how that was like, being someone able to look so put together and professional and Hermione felt a pang of longing.

"Let's get this over with," Daphne stated, bored. Wow her and the Sirius looking man should form a club.

"Alright, Miss Granger," the man spoke, "please focus on your breathing," Hermione almost snorted at those words, "and let Miss Greengrass in. This is just so you can get accustomed to the feeling of sharing a headspace with another. Be mindful of how it feels but do not resist."

Hermione nodded, easy enough. Daphne looked into her eyes and muttered Legilimens.

Hermione instantly felt what her beginners Occlumency book was trying to describe. Her brain felt too small, too cramped with Daphne's presence. Hermione willed herself not to fight it as Daphne pushed deeper, accessing memories.

It was a happy one, she had forgotten what it felt like to feel so carefree. Her 13-year-old self, sitting in the backseat of a car as her parents bickered about what to have for dinner.

"We had Chinese last week Dan, technically, technically, it is now my turn to pick the place."

Her father sighed, "Jean you always pick tacos, and you know that my stomach can't digest beans."

"Oh, don't I know, I think the whole neighborhood can smell your post-bean states."

Hermione watched herself burst into giggles at the implication and her mother turned around with eyes filled with a kind of love she didn't realize that she missed until her heart constricted and her airflow stopped.

Hermione's brain instinctively thought of her reason of sadness and another memory played, the worst one. She watched herself stare at her parents as she removed any indication of her existence. She couldn't relive this, not again, not when she had barely survived it the first time.

Stop.

STOP.

Hermione mentally pushed against Daphne, trying to force her out.

"NO," she screamed, unaware if it was still in her head or out loud. Her parents dissolved in front of her eyes and she came back to the present, staring at Daphne's face.

"She didn't leave when I told her to." Hermione spat, swerving to look at the man supposed to be overseeing them.

"Miss Granger, you came back to present the instant you uttered 'No'."

"I said stop in my head before that."

"Many times the communication is simply missed internally, I have doubt that Miss Greengrass would stay there against your will."

He turned to face Daphne that had yet to say anything. She was still staring at Hermione, like she had just met this bushy-haired witch, "Yes, I simply did not hear it."

Hermione scoffed, there was no way.

"You will have to go again of course," said the man, "This time Miss Granger, feel free to push back and toy with the idea of choosing which memories go out."

Hermione nodded, bring it on. Daphne stared at her once again and muttered the word, Hermione ready for the familiar head dampening feeling. She pushed a random memory out at chance, her getting engaged, to see if it held. With surprise, she found the familiar moment replaying and could feel Daphne's eyes scrutinizing the interaction.

Never mind, the witch did not deserve to know that. Hermione inhaled and shoved exactly where she could feel Daphne's presence, mentally pushing her away from Ron and her engagement but accidentally leading her deeper into her mind.

Where was she? Hermione panicked when she couldn't feel Daphne's presence anymore until a dull pain at the base of her head reeled her to the dark-haired witch. No. This was too deep, there were too many hidden things here.

A forbidden memory was picked, her flying backwards into a wall with Ron's face falling in shame. The sharp crack of her wrist still turned her stomach and Hermione was forced to relive her shock at her best friend. She could laugh at her naïve self, so unaware of the complexities of the red-haired man.

The memory twisted into another one of Ron, except this time his face held no shame but rather the opposite, emotions of ownership, anger and resentment. He was nearing her in the kitchen, he was picking her up, finding the spot between her legs. Hermione realized the danger of how this might look from the outside, her frightened face and the slight shake of her head when Ron spoke. Any moment now he would enter her, any moment now her world would shift again.

Hermione suddenly became aware of the fact that she was not alone, there was an unwanted pair of eyes watching with forceful curiosity. This was far too personal; this was her moment alone.

"Get out." Hermione said, no wavering in her outspoken voice. Even the man watching must have heard her, "I said, GET OUT."

Her brain was still reliving the earth-shattering moment between her and her fiancé, his finger pushing her knickers aside and Hermione's whimpers of resistance.

"I SAID NO." She screamed, "NO! Legilimens."

Hermione's brain instantly felt like it was freefalling, landing into a dark, unknown place. She was thrown into a memory of herself? Hermione saw as she sat in at the great hall, giggling at something Ron had said while simultaneously hitting him with a book, the hall resembled her sixth year. She saw Daphne staring with disgust and her eyes travelled to a lean blonde boy also watching the interaction. Malfoy? What?

The world transformed to her outside at the lake while Daphne and Malfoy sat, Daphne playing with his collar and Malfoys eyes, shut, head leaning back against a tree. She was reading something, her potions text she recalled, as Ginny ran up yelling her name. Present day Hermione's attention was at the Slytherin couple, Malfoy's eyes opened wide, his back turning immediately to find Ginny and Hermione now chatting. Hermione couldn't miss the heartbreak in Daphne's eyes.

Enough. She heard ricocheting around the brain as she was pushed out to present day. Their eyes held for a moment, knowing too much about the other to ever be the same again.

"I quit," Daphne said, her voice was tight as she whipped around and exited the room, the witch jumping at the slam of the door.

"That went well," the man started with indiscernible amusement, "You are to practice one more time, but now that your trainer has quit…" he trailed off.

"I displayed memories of my choosing, pushing out a trained Legilimens and entered her brain. I'd say I'm qualified for that basic knowledge in Occlumency stamp, wouldn't you?"

The man nodded slowly, "You have received results beyond the capacity of a beginner level, yes…yes, you are free to leave Miss Granger. Thank you for your time."

Hermione sighed, heading back to her office, her brain already reliving the memories she had seen and categorizing the blonde Slytherin's behaviour. Had he really despised her that much that he couldn't even look away? What was he doing, making scenarios of gruesome ways for her to die? She wouldn't really be surprised.

Hermione had started on her ministry work when an airplane memo zoomed into her office. It was rare that she got memos lately, her work had been mostly independent since the Gringotts case and Kendra always just barged into her office when Hermione was needed.

The memo landed on her desk and unraveled perfectly, not a crease in sight. It was an empty parchment? She picked it up and turned it around when the saw the small words written in the middle of the page.

In case: 112 Kent Street.

DG

She stared at the parchment trying to comprehend the small act of…kindness, care? Hermione finally decided that it was mockery, Daphne couldn't want to provide any actual help. She would bet her galleons that it was a fake address and yet, Hermione memorized it, subconsciously tucking it away into the same part of her brain things now went to hide.