Hermione stopped fighting. Without magic she knew it was useless. It killed her – because she was a fighter, but when three people were holding her down – she started to give up. The more she fought – the more pain she felt in the areas where she was held down. Hermione was slowly giving up. She was lying on her stomach, the right side of her face was against the floor, and she felt as her tears dripped down from the bridge of her nose, and onto the floor.

When her father's friends were finished with her, she heard her father say to them, "how 'bout a beer? I'm buying." And with that, the sweaty men took their leave of her to continue drinking in some bar.

Hermione felt the cold air of winter wash over her as the front door opened and closed. She lay there dazed for several minutes before rolling onto her back – seeing the comfort of the ceiling fan once more, round and round and round. Slowly she attempted to sit up – feeling pain shoot through her with each movement, no matter how slight. As soon as her head stopped spinning, she made her way to her jacket – not wanting to be surprised without it again. As soon as she stood, she felt a strange warmth creep down her thighs – fear gripped her as she looked down to see blood beginning to pool around her feet. Hermione tried to rack her brain with what to do – typically level-headed and calm, this was a completely different Hermione – panicked and scared. She slowed down her thinking and tried to go over her options. She was not about to go to a muggle hospital – she couldn't risk being taken away from her real world of magic. She didn't want to go to St. Mungo's – there would be too many questions, and she didn't want anyone at Hogwarts getting wind of what happened. No, she was going to have to attempt to heal herself – but first she had to get out of her house, she wasn't about to risk her father and his friends coming back with her still there.

But where was she to go? Not the Burrow, DEFINITELY not Cedric's, and she didn't have the strength to even attempt returning to Hogwart's – where she knew the girls' dormitory was going to be vacant of other students over the break. Hermione recalled overhearing that the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix was going to be vacant as well over the holidays, so she shrunk her belongings, grabbed her broom and took off.

Upon arriving at Grimmauld Place, Hermione got off her broom in a tremendous amount of pain – it had been a bumpy flight, and she was so busy trying to remain conscious that her focus was off. She limped up the sidewalk, whispered the password, and cautiously entered – just in case someone decided to spend the holidays there after all. She was incredibly lucky – the house was empty. She dropped her luggage and immediately made for the bathroom. She took one look at her face in the mirror and vomited in the sink. Her face was so swollen and bruised that she didn't even recognize herself. Her hair was matted with blood and tears, and her arms were covered in cuts and bruises as well – some new, some from being thrown down the basement stairs. She examined her legs and saw severe bruising to her inner thighs, and knew that the blood was coming from inside of her. She took out her wand, and attempted the few healing spells she knew. Nothing worked on her bruises and cuts, but she was able to stop the bleeding from in between her legs. Unfortunately she didn't know any pain relieving spells, so she settled for sitting in a hot bathtub instead.

Hermione sighed while soaking in the hot water, she took a deep breath and sank her head beneath the water, wondering what would happen if she just opened her mouth and took a breath, allowing the water to fill her lungs. How long would it take…would it hurt? She had always thought that drowning and suffocation would probably be 2 of the most terrifying ways to die, but for the first time in her life, Hermione didn't care about the fear of pain and death, in fact – she was starting to welcome it.

As the days went by, Hermione's bruises turned angry shades of purple and green. She was due to return to Hogwarts the next day – and didn't have the first clue on how to hide it. It didn't even occur to her to use magic until she went through several bottles of muggle "cover-up" trying to find the right shade. She finally flipped through some of her more advanced books and discovered several glamours which she spent hours practicing until she was satisfied. Hermione also discovered a glamour to add weight – she couldn't remember the last time she ate, the last time she even wanted to eat – or could keep anything down, and it was starting to show. Her already thin face was beginning to look gaunt, and she could feel her ribs. Before going to bed, Hermione packed her bags and placed them by the door. No matter what she did, Hermione was not able to sleep that night. She was worried about returning to Hogwarts, worried about how to act in front of her friends – could she pass herself off as "fine"? Would her glamours hold up? A sudden realization hit the pit of her stomach – she was supposed to go to the Weasley's house tonight, and they were all going to go to the train station together. She didn't care, she would come up with an excuse – that she wanted to spend every last second with her father, hopefully it would be believable.

Morning finally came, but Hermione didn't sleep a wink – she spent the night looking at the clock, worried that if she fell asleep she would have nightmares – since she was having them every night since. As the hours ticked by, Hermione prepared herself for every possible interaction she could have with a person. She was hoping that she could keep up a brave face (and glamoured), and be able to pass herself off as being ok. Before leaving the house, Hermione applied her glamours – hoping they would last. She knew she would have to reapply throughout the day. As Hermione looked through herself in the mirror, she wondered why she didn't just tell her friends, tell the Weasley's, tell ANYONE, to allow them to give her the help, love and support she knew they would. Maybe in part she believed she deserved it – that her father was right and she did destroy her family. No, she knew it wasn't that. What Hermione didn't want was pity.

So taking one final look at her glamour, Hermione took a deep breath and opened the door. It was now or never. She stepped out into the crisp morning air and made her way to King's Cross station, hoping she could pull this off.

More to come soon! Reviews please! Suggestions?