A/n: I was struck with this plot at one in the morning. I wrote this out by the light of my cell phone. Will work for reviews. Thank you to my marvelous and beautiful beta Hermione 2405. Round of Applause She is wonderful. Ps I own nothing let's not rub it in. Now on to the bat cave.

She had been waiting for about 20 minutes. The Black and White Ball started at 7:00 p.m. sharp and it already was 7:04. He knew how Hermione felt about being late. She told him the time. Like always he said he would be there. Not only were they late, Hermione couldn't breathe. Edward had bought her gorgeous size 4 muggle gown, at the most expensive boutique on Diagon Alley. It was soft elegant and looked fabulous on her. The bust of the dress consisted of a corset-like function and opened up into an elegant Victorian style skirt. The material was soft and felt butter creamy against her bare skin. The only dilemma was she wore a size 6; and quickly realized that it wouldn't be a good idea to wear the dress for more than an hour or so at a time.

Harry had asked if she wanted to arrive with him because of Edward known tardiness. She politely declined saying that Edward would be on time, this time. As always, Harry was right. She might as well enjoy the wait. She loosened her top and settled down on the sofa with the remote control. Just her luck nothing worth watching was on the telly.

Half of an hour later, she heard a pop signaling apparation. "Hermione, Why aren't you ready?" Edward asked. Hermione was already steamed because he was late, now he was asking why she wasn't ready.

"Don't ask me that. Where the hell have you been?" she asked getting off the sofa. "You promised you would be on time."

"Don't give me this crap, Minnie. Fix yourself while I go get dressed."

He undid his work tie and walked down the corridor to their bedroom. He always did that, just walked away and expected the conversation to be over. Not this time. She followed him down the hall determined to carry out their conversation.

"Edward, do not walk away when I'm talking to you." He whipped around to face her so fast that she felt a light breeze.

"Stop being a bitch, dammit. You are always harassing and nagging and bitching. That's why I hate you now." His words shocked her and left her without a response; Hermione Granger speechless. How rare was that? If only Ron could see her now.

She had no idea what to say. No one had ever spoken to her in such a retched manner; much less said they hated her. In their first year at Hogwarts, Harry and Ron had said some nasty things about her comments, but never did they say they hated her. And here was her fiancé, the one who claimed to love her, telling her that he hated her. His confession sunk to her very core. Her head swarmed with thoughts and her heart ceased to work. His admission ran through her veins, grabbing hold of her stomach and pulling it through her mouth. She rushed down the hall and into the bathroom, barely making it in time to pull back her hair and lean over the commode. She retched all of her hurt, sadness, frustration and anger into the toilet bowl.

She sat back on her haunches and brushed back her hair trying to contain her emotions. She didn't know what to do. All thoughts of the ball and Harry and the lame television show she was watching, lay forgotten, in wake of a new condition. Her boyfriend hated her. For months now, he had been a little unruly, snidely commenting and always giving his two pounds about whatever the matter was. He frequently was rough with her but she thought nothing of it. She casually dismissed it as him taking his stress from work out on her. Guess she was wrong. His words played over and over in her head. "That's why I hate you now. That's why I hate you now..."

She wondered what she looked like now, sitting on the floor clutching the toilet bowl in a gown meant for a runway. She began to trust her legs to stand and got off the floor. She caught a glance of herself in the mirror. Her mascara was running with tears, she didn't know she had cried. Her dramatic eye shadow had smeared on her face. She thought she looked hideous.

"Hermione? Hermione, where are you?" Edward called. "I didn't mean what I said, love. I was just stressed".

Hermione gave a laugh that was nowhere near joy. 'Stress my ass.' She thought. That was the first time in months that he had been truly honest with her. She could hear his heavy footsteps coming down the hall towards the bathroom. She quickly slammed the door, and put several, very advanced locking charms on it. It barred entrance to only the most advanced of wizards.

She returned to the mirror to scrutinize her facial features. Her eyes were too big, and the most boring color known to mankind. Her nose was too small, and her lips too full. Her hair, though it was much tamer, was now too curly. It was also the too dark a shade of brown. She couldn't stand to look at her self any longer. She grabbed the small mirror and tore it from the wall. It landed on the floor with a crash and shattered into a million reflecting bits. A bit of the glass caught it eye. She reached down and grabbed it.

To the average eye, there was nothing special about this piece of glass. But to Hermione it was everything, the most beautiful thing she had ever laid eyes on. That small bit of glass would be her escape. It would save her from herself and from life. Slowly, with trembling hands, she held it to her wrist and dragged. A small trail of iridescent blood followed in its wake. The first touch of the glass hurt. She closed her eyes and clenched her teeth to seal off the pain. Gradually it lessened and became a soft tingling sensation. It gave her a sense of peace that had only ever been rivaled by Mrs. Weasley's famous hugs. She couldn't believe a man had reduced her to this.

She had read in a book somewhere, that if you put your wrist into warm water after cutting them, you would die. That sounded pretty good to her at the moment. She turned the hot knob on the valve and water began to flow into the tub.

"Minnie, come now, love. You know I didn't mean all that stuff I said. Open the door. Please..." He stood pleaded on the other side of the door. If she could hear him, chances were that he could hear her. She cast a silencing charm over the bathroom and turned up the water pressure streaming from the tap. The more water the better.

Next order of business was: loosening that bloody corset. She pulled at the filament on her top, relaxing but not removing the corset. The ties refused to give. 'Oh damn it all' she thought. At least it was better than before. She gingerly lifted her dress and hopped in the tub. It was filthy anyway' her gown was stained with her makeup, rubbish from the floor and blood oozing from her wrist. The clock on the wall read "7:55". She had been in there for quite some time now. She giggled. She didn't know what she found so amusing. Soon her giggles escalated to a full uproarious laugh. Her laughter turned into sobs and screams. She was dying. She could feel it.

She peeked into the tub around her dress. The tub water was a deep red color. She must have bled a large amount of blood. She would surely die. She never dreamed her life would end this way. She always thought she would die in the second war. That obviously didn't happen, so her second option was old age. Guess not that either.

Here she was, in her tub; Alone. She was going to die alone. Her greatest fear had always been dying alone. She didn't even have Edward's rantings to keep her company; he had given up his insistent trouncing a long time ago. Her legs were starting to get numb. She repositioned her body so that she was sitting Indian-style instead of on her legs. Water gushed over the tub at her movement. Thoughts of turning off the spigot came to her. She just didn't have the will power to do it. The water was extremely hot; she only had the hot tap on. Lucky for her the water in their flat didn't get as hot as the government recommended. But Hermione loved heat so it was bearable. All in all, she was quite comfortable. Dying was an enjoyable feeling. 'Good thing everyone gets to experience it once.' She closed her eyelids. She quieted the tone of her sobs and took pleasure in the sound that was silence.

As quickly as it started, her silence was replaced by the sound of rapid hammering on the door.

"Hermione!" a voice thundered. "You will let me in this second. Do you hear me? Open this door 'Mione." It roared. This voice was much louder than Edward's. She knew it anywhere. Harry.

A/N: Love it? Hate It? I don't care. I'll even accept flames (and gracefully, too ) Review please