This is a random idea that came into my head a few days ago and it just would not go away so I figured why not write it and see how people like it. I really like this idea for some reason, but I won't waste time on a story no one like so please R&R. Also, the title may be subject to change at a later date so if you have any ideas feel free to tell me in a review or PM me. I'll credit you if I use it.

Disclaimer: Am I a rich, blonde, or British? No. Sadly. Therefore, I own none of the characters or places mentioned in this story. I only own the plot.

Warning: Contains abuse and rape of a minor. Please do not read it either of those offend you or will be a trigger.

Without further ado, I present you with Hope.

Dear Eileen Prince-Snape

I know you probably hated me when you knew me, but I'm writing to you today because I need your help. I would understand completely if you said no. If I were you, I probably would after all the stuff I said and did to you and your son, but I really hope that you're not like that, especially after you hear what I need to tell you.

I was sixteen when we met and I thought he was the greatest guy I'd every met. So sweet and kind. Always doing little romantic things and surprising me with little gifts every now and then. I'm sure you know what that's like right? Surely you and Mr. Snape didn't hate each other when you got married, right? Well, anyways. I thought he was the greatest thing that could possibly happen to me.

We dated for three years until I got pregnant and, having the traditional parents that he did, they insisted that we be wed as soon as possible. After all, we couldn't have a bastard child. We were married within a month. Things were great at first. He seemed to love me as much as I did him. He did everything that I wanted and did it with minimal complaint. It wasn't until two months later that it all came crashing down.

It was a typical day in Number 4 Privet Drive. I was washing the dishes and Vernon was at work when all of a sudden I felt a sudden sharp pain and then there was blood. Lots of blood. I called for a ambulance, hoping that they would hurry since I had a feeling I knew what this was, I just prayed I was wrong.

Needless to say, I was correct in my assumption. I had had a miscarriage. And the pain that accompanied it was unbearable. I just wanted Vernon to hold me and to show that he still cared about me even though I lost our baby. But he never did. Days turned to weeks, and weeks turned into months and not once did he touch me. Not even just to hold me. I didn't care about sex at the time so I didn't want that, I just wanted to be cuddled.

Thinking back now, I believe that was when it started. I mean, we'd had minor spats before, but we didn't have an abusive relationship. Then That Day I did something, I think I was just commenting on the weather or some other random, unimportant thing and he just snapped. He got up out of his chair and knocked me out of my chair, and, well, I'm sure you know what would have come next. I can honestly say that once it was over I found myself thinking of you. And how you always fought back and the respect I already held for you increased ten-fold. I knew I couldn't fight back. I mean he was easily three or four times my size. What could I do?

Our relationship stayed like that for a while, and then I got pregnant again. I thought this would mean that we would go back to that loving, doting man that I had married. And for a while he did. Then he went to a pub one night with some friends and came back drunk. I was a little over seven months pregnant with Dudley and the fight that occurred that night cause me to go into labor early. Vernon seemed like he felt bad, especially when our son was several pounds too small (makes me wonder how he went from two pounds at birth to over two hundred and fifty something now).

For the next year or so he loved me again. Then Harry came to live with us. I had told Vernon about witches and wizards years ago so when morning came and I found Harry on our porch with a letter attached saying that he was Lily and James's son, I nearly had a heart attack. Why would he be with us? That was when I realized that the piece of paper with his name on it, was also an envelope and had a letter inside of it. I took it out and read it and felt my world crash down around me. I may have pretended to hate Lily, but I really loved her. I was just jealous that she was so smart and pretty and popular and kind and all the stuff I wasn't. Most importantly a witch. Though I never hated her. I'm almost positive you knew that and my parents knew that, but I don't think Lily ever realized it.

It was then that I decided that I was going to keep the boy no matter what Vernon said. I told him and we had one of our fights only this time I was actually fighting back. I was so proud of myself for standing up to him. Even if he beat me worse than night than he ever had before. It was completely worth it.

Once again things were calm, he would occasionally hurt Harry, but more often than not he took his frustrations out on me. But I suppose it was better me than him. And here I had always thought you were crazy for taking a beating for Severus. I guess it's a mother thing maybe?

Anyways, things were quiet until he turned eleven. Then we started getting these letters. I told Vernon that he should just respond to it because who knew what would happen if we just ignored them. We found our pretty quickly, our house was flooded with letters. I pretended to fight it so Vernon wouldn't hurt me, after all, I had agreed with him hadn't I? I knew Harry would be going to that school no matter what, but I had to keep up appearances.

Pretty soon both my boys were gone at school for a majority of the year and I was alone with Vernon again. That's when the beating and arguments started becoming a regular thing. Only in the summer were we civil with one another.

It wasn't until now that I finally worked up the courage to write to you. The reason being that he finally took it a step too far. I was out at work a few days ago and when I came back the house was silent. Not that that was too unusual since Dudley (a terrible, awful name if you ask me) was away at a friend's house and Harry was always really quiet for the same reason I was, he didn't want to face Vernon's anger. But that night I went to check on Harry when I was sure he was asleep, like I always do, but this time the bed was covered in blood. I was going to fix the problem then go to bed. Until I noticed where it was coming from. This was just a simple little cut or bruise. This was something more. Something a lot more serious. And I wanted to murder Vernon for it. He had taken something from our- no, my- nephew that he would never get back. I presume you have figured out what I'm talking about by now, but just to be safe, Vernon, the loving amazing man that I had been so deeply in love with when we were married, had raped my nephew. I couldn't even bare the thought of sharing a bed with the man- on second though, he doesn't deserve to be called a man- the thought of sharing a bed with that thing made my skin crawl. So I slept on the couch. Or tried to anyways, instead, I find myself up at three in the morning writing a letter of hope to a woman I haven't seen since I was eighteen hoping and praying that she would come and help me and my boys get away from the monster I married.

I assure you, all of what I wrote in this letter was true. So please, I beg of you, help me get out of my horrible, dead-end, abusive marriage. Please.

Signed,

Petunia Duresley

When Petunia finished reading over the letter to make sure she hadn't left out anything, she went into her nephew's bedroom and attached the letter to his owl's leg and told her where to take it. As she watched the beautiful snowy owl fly away and prayed that Eileen wouldn't just toss the letter aside without reading it.

Eileen sat at her kitchen table finishing up her morning cup of coffee when a snowy owl flew into her window and sat in front of her then held out it's left leg. Eileen gently untied the letter and untied the letter. She unrolled the letter and started reading it.

By the time she finished almost twenty minutes later, she had unshed tears in her eyes. Petunia was right, she did know exactly how the younger woman felt. After all, she had been in the exact same position until she finally got out when Severus was fourteen. The only thing she regretted about it was that she hadn't done it sooner. That being said, she got up and found a piece of parchment and wrote her reply on it before tying it to the owl's leg and giving her a piece of bacon to eat. Once the owl left, she went up to her room to prepare for the day.

Petunia glanced up from the dishes she was washing when Hedwig swooped in the kitchen window and hooted. She wiped her wet hands on her apron before walking to the owl and untying the paper. She quickly sat down when she finished reading the letter.

I'll be there in an hour.

~Eileen Prince