Hey guys. Sorry for the slow update. Again, I don't own these characters.

Collapsing on the sofa at The Burrow, Fred buried his head in his hands and let silent sobs rack his body. He'd failed her. He'd promised that he'd protect her at all costs, and now look what had happened – Malfoy had got her.

Fred wasn't aware of time passing, but when he looked up at the sound of the Floo activating he saw quarter of an hour had passed. "Fred? What are you doing here? Is it Hermione?" Mrs Weasley approached him, laden with bags of shopping. Upon seeing Fred's face streaked with tears, the shopping fell to the floor and the sofa sank under her weight as she sat down next to him.

"Fred, love, what's the matter?"

Fred swallowed. "Hermione's gone. I failed her. It's all my fault, all of it."

Mrs Weasley looked puzzled, but stayed silent as Fred started to explain, hesitantly at first, but soon everything came gushing out.

"We'd gone to Diagon Alley to buy her a new wand and some clothes – she didn't want to always be wearing Ginny's. We were grabbed by," he spat the word out, "Malfoy, and a couple of his Death Eater buddies. Threatened to beat me up and so Hermione went with them. She's back with Malfoy."

"Oh, Fred. But it's not your fault."

"Yes it is, Mum! Don't you see? It's all my fault, every bit of it! Not just Hermione going to Malfoy again, but her going on to the streets in the first place. She was in love with me! Malfoy found out, snapped her wand, threw her out, and threatened to kill me if she went to anybody for help. When I found her, I promised to protect her, and yet she still went with Malfoy; to protect me, no less."

Mrs Weasley, shocked by all that Fred had admitted, took a while to speak. "Who told you that Hermione was in love with you?"

"Malfoy," said Fred bitterly.

"Well," Mrs Weasley reasoned, trying to grasp onto something. "How do you know he wasn't lying?"

"Hermione's face," stated Fred bluntly. "I can read her like a book, and her expression told me everything I needed to know."

"Well then, I guess the important question is, what do you feel about her?"

Fred answered immediately. "I'd go to the ends of the world for her. I've felt that way since before she started dating Malfoy. At first I thought it was just brotherly affection, but I know now that it's so much more than that, so much more."

Mrs Weasley got up, picked up the bags of shopping, and headed towards the kitchen pausing in the doorway and glanced back at her son.

"Looks like you have a rescue mission to attempt then. Just stay safe, Fred." She disappeared.

Fred sat for another minute, thinking, then shot up from his seat. "Malfoy Manor, of course! Damn, I should have thought of that earlier!" he exclaimed. "But the wards..." He trailed off, before frowning, and setting his shoulders determinedly. "Looks like I'll be entering the Muggle way then. There's no way I can let Hermione stay there, Malfoy'll murder her."

Having arrived at Malfoy Manor, Draco pulled Hermione through the corridors to a small, plain back bedroom. The walls were white washed and the floor was made up of wooden boards. The room itself was sparsely furnished with just a single bed, wardrobe and wash basin in it. Hermione could tell that the mattress would be lumpy and uncomfortable, the sheets poor quality and scratchy, and the taps only supplying cold water, just from one cursory glance around.

Shoving her through the doorway, Draco slammed the door behind them.

"So, thought you'd be able to get the better of me, did you?" Well, that failed because you're here now, aren't you? Under my control. At my mercy."

Hermione flung herself away from him, summoned all her courage and spat, "Shut it Malfoy, you can't hurt me."

"Oh, sweetheart, Draco mocked. "I already have. Didn't you see Weasel's face? He was disgusted by the knowledge that you were in love with him. Why would he be pleased about the feelings a Mudblood has for him?"

"Fred's not like that, I know he isn't. And Malfoy, if I'm so detestable to you, which it's obvious I am, why are you so determined to have me?

Hermione knew that keeping Draco talking was the best chance of keeping herself safe, and she was willing to exploit this knowledge as much as possible.

"Malfoys always get what they want – I won't stand for being shown up by a Mudblood and a bunch of blood-traitors. You will learn to respect me, I'll make sure of that."

"I'll never respect you, Malfoy, never. Respect is earned, not forced." Hermione said, although her legs were threatening to collapse beneath her, she was determined to show no signs of weakness or fear.

"Oh, we'll see about that." Malfoy advanced, and the first blow fell on her shoulder, knocking her off balance. The blows fell thick and fast then. Malfoy's fists were blurring with motion and Hermione, powerless to stop the onslaught, fell to the floor.

Each blow was agony, and it was relentless. Determined not to cry out in pain, Hermione bit down on her lip so hard that she could taste the unpleasant, coppery tang of blood. Kicks started alternating with punches, causing Hermione to curl up tight into a ball, shielding as much of her body as she could.

All she could do was close her eyes and pray to Merlin that the torture would be over soon. But there was no reprieve – Malfoy kept up his attack and there was nothing Hermione could do to stop it. Slowly, Hermione thought she could sense a lessening of blows, but her mind was so muddled that it was near impossible to tell whether it was real or if she was imagining it. All of a sudden every bit of breath was knocked out her as a boot found her stomach. The pain was like nothing she'd experienced without being under the Cruciatus Curse, it was so much more personal. She couldn't breathe, and every inch of her ached as two more kicks hit their targets, then; nothing. No more blows, no new pain, just a contemptuous voice filling her head.

"So, do you respect me now, Mudblood?"

Hermione was slipping into unconsciousness, but she was aware of her surroundings enough to glare at the blonde who was standing over her, and spit a mouthful of blood and saliva out of her mouth, coating the toes of his shoes.

"I see you still need to think on it. No food should bring you to your senses, I think." With these words Draco left the room, shutting the door firmly behind him, and Hermione slowly slipped into unconsciousness, hoping that it would offer a brief reprieve from the pain that was covering her entire body, and centred in her chest, right where her heart was.

Hmm, I wrote this chapter a while ago, but haven't been able to update. Looking back on it, I'm not sure about the whole bit between Fred and Mrs Weasley, but I can't think of how to change it.

Anyway, whether you love it, loathe it, or are utterly impartial, please tell me!

Also, can you check out my profile, and my new story, Gossip, thanks!