The witch arrived bright and early at the familiar street of her flat, the constant mantra that reminded her to breathe, passing through her mind.

He probably won't even be there; he probably wouldn't have stayed behind. But if he did? What was she supposed to say? The uncertainty fed the pressure on her chest.

She would have to just walk in, before she lost the ability to inhale, preferably.

Hermione opened her door, tensing at the potential inhabitant but the stale air and deafening silence announced an empty apartment.

"Homenum Revelio," she muttered, validating her belief.

The witch finally let herself take in the familiar surroundings. It looked different for some reason: the bright yellows and reds that previously reminded her of everything Gryffindor had gifted her were hurting her eyes and the throw blankets, pillows, and squashy cushions were almost laughable. Had she really felt that comfortable here?

A chill went down her spine as she continued to make her way through the living room. Hermione lingered at familiar trinkets, touching her old life as she went; the subdued ache in her face reminding her of why she couldn't forget everything and just come back. Her eyes burned as she recalled her happy self. When the worst person in her life was Kendra and when the biggest concern was completing a case.

When had it all changed? What had she missed? Hermione thought back to the first time she doubted him, the first shove. But surely, he couldn't have just become that person out of nowhere. There must have been hints along the way. She grabbed parchment and walked with a plan to her dining table. This was just another mystery to solve, and she had yet to come across one that had indefinitely stumped her.

Hermione started writing out everything that was of concern regarding her fiancé, the major events first but then little ones that she hadn't realised she had tacked away.

- Throwing me into a wall when suggested of not being of value

- Assault when realizing I was seeing Malfoy for the case

- Saw ministry couple of year was me and Malfoy and punched me

- Jealous enough of Malfoy to ask me not to see him again at the cafe

- Horcrux hunt: Barging out of helping Harry because he thought him, and I were secretly dating and assuming it was my responsibility to acquire food

- Still holding a grudge about Krum

Hermione wrote under her list: insecurity enhances jealousy that ultimately manifests into outbursts including distancing from friends, verbal comments and physical –

She stared for a second before writing out the word. Abuse. Might as well accept it as it is.

The witch waited for that switch to click in her mind that would tell her to run away from all of this and leave it behind…except it didn't. A part of her, unwillingly, was defending Ron: doesn't being jealous just mean that he loves her? Next time, next time would be different. She could walk away and wait for him to calm down or just be super careful about what she did. She didn't have to give up Ron, they could figure this out.

You loved him, and you still do, you've just forgotten.

Hermione put her head in her hands, the two sides of her brain arguing, giving her a headache. Had she forgotten? She walked to a dusty box at the top of a self and levitated it towards her, pulling out a large, messily binded, scrapbook Luna had given her after the war. She hadn't given it much of a look with the pictures containing Fred, Tonks, Remus and even Dumbledore. They were just too hard to get through.

Except, maybe now it could give her some clarity. Maybe seeing Ron and her together would spark something.

She carried it to her reading chair and settled in, opening the thick murky gold cover. Hermione took her time on every page. Watching the pictures loop until she had every angle memorized, reading every word in the newspaper clippings, the captions Luna had attached and thinking back to see if she remembered the moments.

Luna had somehow captured everything. She must've asked every person she knew if they had any photographs.

Hermione relived snowball fights, quidditch cups, common room parties, Halloween feasts and dinners at the burrow and she felt a longing for her previous life so strong that a lump formed in her throat. What had changed?

It wasn't long before her answer came glued onto a page. It was another picture taken in the common room but contained just her and Ron.

Their Hogwarts selves had parchment splayed around them and he was staring at Hermione, hands clutched like he was praying. Young her was rolling her eyes at him before she finally grabbed his essay, but the amusement was clear as day on her face. Her lips naturally upturned into a smile.

Hermione thought back, remembering the night. He had spent all day working on his Transfiguration paper after Hermione had put her foot down and said that he would not help. For how would he learn? After watching him struggle all night and hours of begging, she had agreed to read it over and make minor adjustments. Except they both knew that this meant she would basically rewrite it for him.

Hermione glanced back at the image; even with the exasperated expression and the fatigue in her eyes, she could see the love. Not just at Ron, but at life in general. There was a spark in her that Hermione had forgot existed. That had changed. She watched the loop for ages, eyes focused on just herself. She seemed so happy, so driven, and she had no one but herself to blame for it disappearing.

The witch straightened; that was a lie. She had Ron to blame. Sure, she could have left, but he also could have not hit her, or lie to her, or manipulate her into forgiving him. He could have been the guy that she fell in love with. This was not her fault.

This is not your fault. She repeated.

In that moment, the witch decided that there was no way in hell she would allow him to take any more of her. She was done. There would be no more forgiving, no more sacrifices, she would live just for herself now and she would get the spark back.

That is decided, she told herself, there's no going back.

That might have been true for Hermione Granger if, in that moment, an owl had not knocked on her window. Maybe if she had not been there at that time, or if the contents of the letter the owl was carrying were different, maybe she really would have been done.

But alas, she opened the letter, the scrapbook falling to the ground as she read that she was requested at St. Mungo's as a Ronald Bilius Weasley had been brought in and her name was the last thing he had muttered before falling unconscious.

Hermione froze. The witch stared at the letter, waiting for it to combust or disappear. This had to be a prank. But no, it remained in her hands, threatening the precarious progress that she had made just moments before.

She finally got her bearings and made her way to the apparition point and squeezed through the air to St. Mungo's. Later, she would not remember how she had made her way from her flat to the hospital clerk's desk, nor would she remember the moments before the reception of the letter for a chunk of her memory had blanked to darkness.

"Weasley," she stammered, "I'm here for Ronald Weasley."

"Are you family dear?"

"Fiancée."

The woman nodded and touched a folder with her wand and said Ronald Weasley with a clear voice. A parchment zoomed out, landing perfectly on the desk. Hermione watched anxiously as the women read through the sheet.

"He was brought in this morning, with extensive injuries – the Healer will go over the exact ones with you but he's on the ground floor, just down there," The witch pointed at a white, brightly lit hallway, "In room 47, dear."

"Thank you," she gasped before she ran down the hallway, crashing right into a man in a blue coat.

"Woah!" He said, "You're in a rush."

"Yes, sorry, I just need to –

She pointed over his shoulder at the room that had a 47 above it.

"Ms. Granger?" He asked.

"Um, yes?"

"I am Healer Jones," he reached out his arm for her to shake but she just stared. He revoked his hand with no hesitance and continued, "I've been looking over Mr. Weasley's care this morning. Am I correct to assume you would like more information on the injuries."

She simply nodded and he gave her a small smile before speaking.

"Ms. Granger, please know that he is in very capable hands. Thankfully, none of his injuries are life threatening but he has many broken appendages, a collapsed lung, some internal bleeding in the abdomen and a concussion –

Hermione's world blurred as her brain absorbed the Healer's words.

"Would you like to see him?" The man asked. Hermione thinks she might have nodded for he was ushering her into a room a moment later. Her eyes fell to a body in the room. She almost opened her mouth to say that the Healer was mistaken, this wasn't Ron. But as she stared, she could still make out the speckle of freckles she had memorized and the tinge of red in his hair. Hermione would have collapsed if it wasn't for the wall she was holding on to as her eyes roamed to Ron's face that was just an array of blue's and purples, his chest that was bandaged, his left leg that was in a cast, along with both of his arms and the bandage wrapping around his head.

"What happened?" She whispered, unable to take her eyes off of him.

"We are not sure. He refused say anything except that he had to find…you."

Hermione choked out a sob and fell back against the wall.

The healer continued, "We expect a full recovery as most injuries are external. Though there is…

He trailed off.

"There is what?" She turned to look at his grave face.

"There is a slim chance that Mr. Weasley might stay asleep for a while. The body wakes up on its own and it's not something that can be forced with magic without the chance of brain damage."

"You mean…he might just stay like this?"

"It's possible but please Ms. Granger, do not get too worried. He has only been out for a couple hours, which is to be expected with the extent of his injuries. The most that you can do at this point is be there with him. Speak to him, happily. Encourage him to waken. He seems…quite infatuated with you."

The healer gave her a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes and left Hermione in the room. She walked over to Ron, gently caressing his cheek, scared that anything more might break him.

"Please wake up Ron." She whispered, "Please wake up."

six days

Hermione had spent the last 36 hours awake, constantly making sure that Ron was comfortable. Not that he could give any feedback. She had sent an owl to Wales and the Burrow, letting them know and spent the rest of her time conversing with the mangled body in front of her. She talked about Daphne, stews, books she had read, Slytherin parties (leaving out Malfoy, of course), and anything and everything she could think of. Healers had come periodically, checking his diagnostics and encouraging her to get some sleep.

It was quite annoying really; she was doing perfectly fine.

five days

Molly, Ginny and Harry had arrived but the rest of the Weasley's had been harder to track down. Still, the ones present were obsessing over Ron, asking the Healer questions she already knew answers to. Hermione had dosed off for a while and then chastised herself for it happening. She continued to stare at him, making a one way conversation whenever they were alone. His bruises were almost healed, and the healer said that with another day, the potions would take effect and the casts should be able to come off.

four days

His hair was darker, or had it always been? She had started reading a quidditch book to him.

three days

Molly had left and Arthur had replaced her along with George. Harry said he had to get back to work and Ginny had a match. His casts were off, and color had returned to his face. He almost looked normal.

two days

She had finished the book and started another. This one was fiction, and she would add her own comments in so hopefully he knew that she was still there.

Where had he gotten that shirt?

one day

A man came, a brain Healer he called himself, to examine why Ron wasn't waking, even though, physically, he was mostly recovered. He didn't know.

"Have you spoken to him?" He asked her.

"Everyday."

"And what do you say?"

"Everything. I've been reading to him lately."

He nodded, "I see. There's not much else we can do then."

"There must be. I'll try anything."

He looked at her with a tired expression.

"Ms. Granger, sometimes when the brain doesn't wake up, it's because it doesn't want to. At times, because of the fear of what's waiting for it. Can you think of any reason why Mr. Weasley would be scared of waking?"

Hermione shook her head even though a glaringly obvious answer was flashing in her mind.

He nodded and exited the room after promising to do another check up tomorrow and telling her not to give up.

Tomorrow…her wedding day. She hadn't even written any owls to cancel it. If only she had known this is where she'd be when she accepted the proposal. Hermione glanced back at him, a heavy thought dawning on her. There was one thing she could try…for did she really have a choice?

Hermione walked over to Ron's side, something that had become routine lately but this time, she leaned down to his ear, almost kissing it as she held his hand while speaking softly, "The Healer thinks that you might be scared of what will happen when you wake up. Don't be, okay?"

She waited for him to show any sign of movement or responsiveness, but there he lay, as always. Hermione continued, "We'll figure out who did this together. We can work through anything."

Was that –

No …

Did his hand just twitch?

Hermione delivered the final blow, "You have to wake up Ron, for we're getting married tomorrow."

Okay, his finger had definitely just moved. Hermione analyzed his face, "Ron?" She said with hope.

His eye lids fluttered slightly, and he let out a groan. Hermione could have passed out from relief.

"Oh my god, Ron, Ron. Thank Merlin, I was so worried. They said that magic wouldn't work to wake you and then –

Ron muttered something but Hermione missed it.

"What?" She whispered, lowering her ear so it was almost touching his mouth.

"You're going to chatter me back into a coma." He said.

Hermione broke a grin and embraced him into her arms. He let out an oomph before sighing.

"Hey 'Mione." He croaked.

"Hello," she smiled, straightening and looking at him. His eyes were barely open but other than that, he looked healthy.

"How long have I been out?" He asked.

"Six days."

Ron gasped slightly, his eyes opening wider, "The wedding –

"It's tomorrow," Hermione said, too grateful for him to allow the nagging thought of an alternative to be given the floor.

"And you still want to…" He asked, face wary with fear.

Hermione simply nodded, adding an, "Of course," with a preppy voice.

His face flooded with relief. "You won't regret it, I swear." He tried to sit up but groaned and settled with just holding her hand, "I'm so much better now Hermione. I went back to the clinic and was doing really well. The Healer himself had discharged me and I was on my way back before…" he trailed off and his features darkened.

"Before what?"

"Before I got attacked."

"What? By whom? Do you remember?"

He snorted, "Do I remember? It was the git. Malfoy," Ron spat.

Hermione stared, had she heard that correctly?

"Malfoy?" She said with a small voice.

"It was like 3am I think and I was at a pub, waiting for morning when he walked in, looking all angry. I didn't even say anything Hermione, but when he looked at me, I don't know, he just got all tense for some reason."

"Anyway," Ron continued, "A little while later, I was leaving to just wait at the flat and he followed me into the street! I turned to ask him to piss off, and he just started punching me, out of nowhere. I couldn't reach my wand, so I started on him too and before I knew it, we were just brawling. And then I was here."

Ron finished panting, like the conversation had taken something out of him. Hermione had no trouble clicking the pieces. So, Malfoy had taken what she had told him in confidence and used it as an excuse to beat up his childhood adversary. She clenched her fist to avoid showing her anger facially.

"What a git. Listen, you should rest. I'll send a Healer in."

Hermione left without another look and sent the first person in a blue coat she saw towards his room. She thought it was a blue coat at least for she was seeing red as she marched towards the apparition point and for the first time in her life, she felt an urge to spit – tasting the bile at the back of her throat.

The fuming witch arrived at his flat shortly after, not even realizing that showing up to his place, after she had only been there once, months ago, would be odd. Hermione banged on his door, no hesitation or pauses. She heard scuffles before the hated Slytherin opened it.

"Bloody hell, what do –

Hermione's fist made a satisfying thwack against his jaw.

"OW, what the fu –

She went in for a second, meeting the already reddening spot again.

He didn't move this time, just watched her panting.

"Are you finished?" He asked.

Hermione gave a disgruntled affirmation and turned to leave before asking him what she thought, was just one quick question, "Why'd you do it?"

"Do what?"

She turned to look at him. His face looked almost bored, no sign of having been punched by the same witch twice.

"Don't play dumb," She said.

He sighed, "You seriously expected me to just let him be?"

"Why would I expect anything else?"

"You need better friends," he said.

"That's not good enough."

"What?"

"That's not a good enough reason to pummel someone." Hermione stated.

He rolled his eyes, "What do you want from me Granger?"

"The truth."

"You seem to already know what that is." He said, crossing his arms.

"What are you talking about?"

"Why else would you come here and basically assault me. Because I beat up your boyfriend? That's not you."

She scoffed, "You don't know me."

"I know that you have a theory."

Hermione narrowed her eyes, what was he on? "Well, I think it was quite low of you to take what I told you as an opportunity," she spat, "to achieve some goal of yours to beat up Ron."

"That's what you think of me?"

"That's what I know."

He rolled his eyes, "You're so stupid –

"Then what possible reason –

"Because I –

His face flashed momentarily in pain but then it evened to the same bored expression, showing no sign that he wanted to finish his sentence.

"Fuck this." She muttered, turning to leave. She had a man waiting for her, one that needed her.

"Are you marrying him?" She heard from behind her but didn't stop walking.

"Granger."

She kept going. 20 feet till the end of the hallway, 15 feet, 10 feet –

"Hermione, stop." She halted, her name clenching her heart.

"I don't have it in me for a fight, Malfoy."

"So, you are marrying him?"

She heard him approach and didn't argue when she stood in front of her, but didn't glance up when he started speaking.

"You were supposed to be –

"Well, I'm not," She spat, "This is who I am and I don't care who you think I'm supposed to be."

"I can't leave him," she continued, "He needs me and he's trying to get better. Really trying. Who would I be if I didn't give him another chance?"

There was a pause before Draco asked in a bitter voice, "What about what you need?"

"I need him too," Hermione said but with faltering conviction. When had that stopped becoming a fact?

He whispered, full of bitterness, "I envied you, you know. How you stood up to people twice your size, twice as powerful, without hesitation. How you were brave and smart and, and always annoyingly right. But now, I don't even know who you are." Hermione said nothing as his words sunk in, tears dripping down her face. "You're nothing but a coward," he finished.

Hermione finally glanced up, his face was one of hatred, of disgust but she could still find the plea, the desperation that she would change her mind.

"I wish I had never met you," she whispered, hoping that it would hurt.

His voice was even, no hint at surprise as he answered, "The feeling is mutual."

She pushed past him and left to go back to her fiancé.

~ NOTES ~

Hello hello! Happy Saturday! Day early update sooo hopefully you guys don't kill me with this chapter. It needs to happen, I swear!

To all of you that are still here, reading my procrastination pieces, thank you! I'm so so grateful for all of you.

Please review! It inspires me to write faster;)

(unless it's a bad review, because then I will cry:) )

*kisses*