A/N: I'm so sorry for the long updated and short chapter. Things have been hectic at university, and I didn't do as well as I wanted to on my first round of midterms. I had to cut back on time I spent writing to study. Then I found some devastating news.. A friend of mine committed suicide. It's been hard trying to cope with that and studying and trying to write. I hope you forgive me.

I'm sorry again for this short filler chapter, but I'm hoping it will spur a muse. I really miss writing.

Chapter 10

Three days earlier…

"'Mione? Is that you?"

Hermione perked up her head to see Ron standing in her kitchen with a sandwich in his hands. He tilted her head at her, "'Mione, are you alright?" He set the sandwich down on the counter and wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt. Hermione didn't move; she couldn't move, her mind seemed to be all over the place.

Ron walked over to the wall she had fallen against as soon as she finished putting up the wards and crouched down to meet her eye level. "Hermione, please say something I'm terribly worried—"

Hermione noticed Ron blinking rapidly before looking at her with completely dilated eyes. "Why did you leave me, 'Mione?"

She opened her mouth but no sound came out. He punched the wall right next to her head and she yelped.

"I asked you a question," he took a deep breath in through his nose.

"I—I, Ron, we've already talked about this. I thought you were happy about dating other people."

"No, Hermione," she cringed at the way he said her name, "have you forgotten that you are mine?"

Hermione scrunched up her face, "what? Ronald Billius Weasley, what would ever possess you to think that I am yours? I belong to no one, thank you, and not a single man, and certainly not you, could tell me otherwise." She let out a huff of air through her nose and gripped her hands together. She knew logically that Ron didn't seem to be acting like himself, but the nerve of him to say that to her…

Smack!

Hermione gripped her face as she heard a defining crunch coming from her own nose, signalling that it was broke. She felt hot blood dripping down her face and she tasted copper as she licked her lips as a nervous habit.

"Ron—Ron we can talk about this." The hairs on the back of her neck raised as she stared into the cold and unwelcoming eyes in front of her. This wasn't him.. it couldn't be him.

He tipped his head to the side and gave her a sickening smirk. "There's nothing to talk about Hermione. You. Are. Mine." He growled out the last word as he pulled her hair, laughing as she yelped in pain.

"Ron! What are you doing?"

"I think it's funny that you think you have a choice in the matter."

A choice.

Her fucking choice.

She backed up her arm and threw her entire body weight into a punch to his face. She watched as his blood splattered on the wall. She grabbed her wand and incarcerated Ron in a full body bind. He struggled against the ropes as he snarled at her. You fucking bitch. You really think you could ever be anything but Malfoy's whore? You're Mine. Over and over again he yelled vicious words as she paced around the room.

Hermione was sick of his nonsense. This wasn't Ron. It was all her fault. He would snap out of it and surely feel bad, but it still felt nice in the moment to retaliate to his words. She reached down and ripped her shoe off her foot, throwing it at his head. He ducked in the moment, letting her trainer fly past his face and into the wall. He laughed at her aim.

She reached down again and took off her sock, walking forward and shoving it in his mouth to gag him. Ron looked like he was about to vomit, but she needed some quiet to think. He tried to spit the sock out of his mouth, but she made sure to cast a sticking charm.

She started walking towards her room snickering, leaving a mumbling Ron in the living room and feeling slightly better. Hermione still felt sick to her stomach.

Was this why Draco flirted with her? Why he made advances and wanted her to be his? All because of Veela pheromones?

While Draco certainly never acted like how Ron did, she knew Draco wasn't as volatile as Ron. Would that have anything to do with it?

She needed space.

She needed to leave, and quickly.

Hermione went to her closet and dug out a suitcase before making her way through her drawers, packing enough clothes to get away for a few weeks.

She knew she didn't have time to ask Kingsley for a portkey; he would ask too many questions and certainly would tell Harry where she went.

No, Hermione wanted to be alone. She had to do this the muggle way.

She zipped up her suitcase after packing the last of her toiletries and rolled it to the living room. She rounded the corner to see the furious face of her best friend. Hermione knew she couldn't just leave him here, but she needed to buy herself time. She quickly knocked him unconscious before undoing all of the bindings that kept him restrained.

She walked outside and apparated to a location close to the airport, determined on purchasing a one way ticket away from England.