October 15, 1999

It started out small.

In fact, Hermione couldn't remember when the arguments turned into screaming matches, or when those escalated to threats of violence or self-harm. She could, however, remember the first time he had struck her.

He had come home from a long day of work and she, stupidly, had worked overtime and hadn't had dinner prepared. An argument ensued. Then, she couldn't see for a moment as Ron's palm made contact with her cheek. He had stormed out of the house whilst she debated whether to go or stay. An hour later, she was still no closer to a decision when Ron had rushed back into their home, apologies falling from his lips as tears feel from his eyes.

"Okay," she had told him. "But never again. You'll never do that again."

"Never again," he promised. "I can't lose you. I'd kill myself if I lost you."

But, just two weeks later, it happened again. Then again, and again, and again.

Hermione would never have envisioned this as her future: a battered, unemployed woman living with her abusive boyfriend. But what could she do? Ron was a well respected Auror now, heading up the Tactics and Strategy division of the department.

And she was nobody. Or at least, that's what Ron told her. And wasn't he right? Weren't loving boyfriends supposed to be honest with their girlfriends? She was an embarrassment. To him, to the Golden Trio, to the Wizarding world. Of course, Harry had never said that. But she didn't see much of Harry, or anyone for that matter, since she started receiving blows to the head and neck. It was becoming harder and harder to hide the bruises so, eventually, she just stopped.

Besides, it had been a year and a half since the War, people move on, people change. Harry and Ginny were now married. Harry was on track to becoming Head of the Auror department. Ginny was a first-string Chaser for the Holyhead Harpies. George was slowly recovering from the loss of his twin, but Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes was becoming more popular by the day. Even Draco and Lucius Malfoy had redeemed their image, Draco also in the Auror department, second only to Harry in their division, and Lucius, having lost Narcissa in the war, had donated a sizeable amount of time, money, and energy to the Orphaned Children's Ward of the Ministry. Even Severus Snape had made it through, though not unscathed, and was now running his own potions shop in Diagon Alley.

She was startled from her thoughts by the sound of the front door opening. No! Is it that time? I don't even have dinner started!

"'Mione! Where's my dinner?" Ron called as he trudged towards the bedroom.

"Uh, I… um, thought we'd order something? Maybe pizza?" Hermione was already flinching internally, hoping against hope that Ron was in a decent mood so that he wouldn't toss her around too much.

Hermione flinched as the bedroom door slammed. "And why exactly didn't you cook? It's not as if you're busy. Ever since I made you leave that bloody job at the Ministry, you've had plenty of bloody time to cook!" Ron stormed down the hallway, right towards her, fist already raised.

Hermione, knowing what was coming, dropped to the floor with her head down. "Please Ron, I'm sorry, I'll do better. Please, Ron! Please, I'll be better!" But her pleas tell on deaf ears as he slammed his fist down on the base of her skull. Her vision went white before she even realized that she had dropped prone on the floor, Ron kicking her in the stomach, chest, and face.

Then, everything went black.