A/N: This is my first fic with this paring and I know some of my readers are thinking I've lost my mind. However, I will assure you that I am still sane and needed to do something a little different from the norm. I am also looking for a beta for this story so if you are interested, please send me a PM. I expect to update this story at least weekly and will do my best to keep to that promise.


The first chapter contains physical abuse and non con. If this bothers you in anyway, click back now and read no further. If that doesn't scare you away, then I will also mention that this fic will contain lemons and angst just for a warning.


Saving me


Hermione felt her head fling back as her husband punched her between the eyes as hard as he could. The reason you ask? Easy, she had forgotten that he got off work early that particular day and his dinner was no where to be found.

The force of the latest punch was enough to send her flying back and into the sharp edge of the counter top, creating a large scratch across the small of her back. Her nose was broken, she was sure of it as she could no longer breath out of it and could feel the warm, red substance trickle down her lips onto the white tee shirt.

Her vision was slightly blurred from the impact but she could still see him advancing towards her again. She wanted to run from the man as fast as her legs could carry her but she knew from experience that he could and would catch her – and things would be worse.

Her insides clinched as he grabbed her by the hair and slammed her face into the counter top, sending her front teeth through her top lip.

She wanted this to stop but she knew he wouldn't until she blacked out. For all she knew, he probably continued to attack her once her world turned black and laughed while doing so.

Merlin how she hated him, feared him. She would gladly face Voldemort once again if it meant her freedom from this man in particular.

Her head was forced up from the counter top with a yank of her hair and her arm was twisted behind her with a loud pop. The pain from her shoulder being dislocated was the trigger that sent her world into black once more.


She had met Blake Thomas two years after leaving Hogwarts. They had a very quick, but very passionate romance for over a year before they finally married.

Through out dating, Blake was a gentleman. He had always taken her feelings into consideration, wined her and dined her, made her feel as if she were the only woman in the world and she loved it. The attention she received from Blake was a far cry from the attention of Harry and Ron, who treated her more like one of the guys.

He made her feel special, loved and wanted with everything he did – until the first time he had dared to strike her.

The first time wasn't so bad, just a smack across the cheek for calling him a name in the heat of an argument.

She still left. She would be damned if a man struck her and got away with it. She managed to stay away from him for two weeks before he found her and promised it was a mistake and that it would never happen again.

That was when she made the biggest mistake of her life and went back. He stuck to his word for almost two months but during an argument about a fact in a book, she found herself knocked to the ground, slamming her head on the coffee table behind her.

Once she had woken up, She quickly went to the bedroom and started to pack her things – Blake wasn't having it.

He had discovered her in the act of closing her suit case and in a fit of anger, he placed her struggling hand into the suitcase and slammed it shut on her fingers, breaking three in the process and since that day, he watched her like a hawk.

The beatings had been getting progressively worse over the last year and as bad as she wanted to ask for help, she was scared for herself, her friends and in the end, covered her bruises with charms.

Her life was hell and she knew it.


Hermione opened her eyes as best she could, but they were almost swollen shut from the initial punch. She could feel the sharp pain in her lip and realized her teeth were still embedded in the soft flesh and then she noticed she was laying on the floor with her twisted, dislocated arm resting beneath the weight of her body.

She let out a groan of pain before she felt a sharp kick to the chest, knocking the air from her broken body before she blacked out once more.

It was a few hours before she came back to the land of the living and this time she wished she hadn't. The fact that she was passed out and in pain didn't seem to faze Blake as he grunted above her, taking her body brutally. She didn't dare speak out, she knew he would claim husbands rights before he would hit her again and in her current state, she couldn't handle the pain of another punch, kick, or slam.

She hid the pain he was causing as he slammed into her over and over again. She wouldn't give the sadist the satisfaction he craved, she only prayed he would hurry and be done with it.

Her wish was soon granted as he stiffened and released inside her with the hardest thrust yet, causing her uterus to contract painfully. He rolled off of her in seconds and fell asleep beside her, not even bothering to check and see if she had passed out once again.

She laid completely still as he snored, she didn't want to wake him but at the same time, her mind was telling her enough was enough and that she had to get away from him before he actually succeeded in killing her.

She pulled her battered body from the bed as carefully as she could and padded into the living room of the cozy house she once loved. Her strength was nearly depleted so apparation was out of the question. She knew she would have to floo and even though her body was wracked with pain, she decided to take the chance.

She didn't pack anything or even bother to clean herself up as both of those things took energy and she would need all she had left to floo to Harry's flat. She was covered in dried blood and only wearing the white tee shirt as she stepped into the fireplace and threw the powder down.


Harry was sitting in his living room facing yet another night of sleeplessness. He had been having strange feeling as of late and they were not pleasant. He often woke within hours of falling asleep feeling weak, disoriented and most of all in pain.

Sitting on his couch had become a ritual for him and if not sleeping made sure those feeling didn't happen, he was all for it.

He noticed out of the corner of his eye that the fireplace had turned green and he quickly pulled his wand. It was two in the morning and whoever was arriving better have a damned good reason. He didn't get much of a chance to attempt to figure out who was flooing before his best friend fell out of the fireplace in a bloody heap of bushy hair and nakedness.

He dropped his wand and rushed to her with panic in his heart. He could see the blood as soon as she landed and it scared the hell out of him. Once he reached her, he quickly yet carefully picked her up, noticing instantly that her shoulder was dislocated and carried her to his bed.

He checked her vital signs, not even taking the time to consider how she had come to this state and started to panic once more. Her hear rate was slow, her pupils were dilated and her breathing was labored – she was dying slowly.

He took a second to consider his options. He had sorted out that flooing or apparating to St. Mungo's would probably kill her instantly and getting a healer to his flat this time of night would be a long, annoying task and still didn't guarantee results. He only had one option and as much as he hated to do so, he knew Severus Snape would have the necessary potions and experience to help her if she could be helped.

He and Severus had made a truce of sorts a few years earlier and while they were not the best of friends, both wizards held a certain respect for each other and made their peace.

He walked over to his fireplace and stuck his head in, making a call to his ex – professor quarters.

To Harry's relief, Severus was still awake and sitting in the living room reading a book in peace. He didn't bother with pleasantries and quickly asked for his help, adding that he would need to bring potions for healing a person who was in grave condition.

Severus knew that what ever had happened, had to be bad for Potter to ask for help. He quickly placed his books down, grabbed a box full of potions he had prepared for emergencies and floo'd to Harry's flat.