Dramione- When You Don't See Me

41. Fretful Flashback

Song: X Ambassadors- Unsteady- Madaline Bailey & KHS Cover

*Sensitive Content Warning*
*Chapter contains Emotional/ Physical/Verbal Abuse*

"'Mione, is dinner done yet?"

Hermione grumbled a complaint. "What?" Not realizing she'd been talking aloud, she panicked and replied quickly, "Almost ready, dear!"

Pan frying shrimp, boiling noodles, stirring a thick sauce, checking the bread in the oven, she did it all at once. It was frustrating, doing so much just to please one person, being a sort of caretaker for an adult. Her palm grazed the side of the sauce pan, scalding her skin. "Ouch ouch ouch," her ran her hand under cold water, holding back a whimper.

"What's all the bloody ruckus out there?"

Hermione turned off the water and shouted back, "Nothing, dear!" Finishing the plating, she thought it looked rather beautiful, gorgeous in fact. "It's ready," she said with a smile, standing in front of him in the living room. He didn't smile back and stood with a hint of a stumble on his way to the dining room.

"How is it?" She asked, hoping to get a positive reaction. As usual, he didn't even seem to chew it, eating like a bird or a small dog. Not getting a response, she pressed harder, "Did I do better this time?"

"Blimey, can I get a minute of silence?! Can I just eat in piece?!" She cowered at the words, not meeting his eyes but nodding. The woman ate hardly anything while the man devoured the table before retreating in the living room, not a thank you, not a word.

Hermione mumbled to herself again as she did the dishes, putting leftovers away in the fridge. "I try so hard to be perfect for you. So so so hard. Yet, I'm never enough. You don't even notice me anymore, just sit in your thoughts. All you do is read your Quidditch magazines and lay around. Never lift a finger, 'Mione will do everything, its fine." She hadn't realized how aggressively she scrubbed the pan between her fingers, nor how hot the water she had been using was. The hot water only made her burning pain intensify and she accidentally let a small shriek slip her tongue.

Large feet stomped through the hallways and trudged closer and closer to her current location. "What are you screaming about in here?"

"It's nothing, sweetie. The water was just a tad too hot, I'm fine, I promise." She set down the pan to not drip water as she turned to face him, wiping her hands on her pants. The light blue got darker in small patches as her hands clamped themselves together politely at her navel. He eyed her suspiciously, his lids were almost closed in a squint, his left brow raised high above the right.

With a grunt, he turned and exited again. This left her, once again, alone in the dishes. She could still smell him though he was long gone. She could never forget that scent, not since the day he brought it to her home. Firewhiskey. Every week day from the time he got home to the time he passed out, he was drinking, drowning his sorrows in posion. She'd already sat with him in St. Mungo's once this year, he still hadn't changed his ways. Even being sober for two whole weeks didn't change his mind.

"What are you doing, Sweetheart?" She asked, sitting next to him. It was obvious he was reading through a magazine that advertised The Chudley Canons but she wanted him to engage in conversation. "Reading," he said dully, a short burp echoing from his mouth, releasing a pungent oder.

Hermione wafted away the air around her nose decreetly, "Have they been winning? The Canons?" He just shook his head and growled lowly.

"That'd be nice to go see them play in person, wouldn't it?" Hermione wasn't one who very much enjoyed Quidditch but thought that, perhaps, this could interest him. "I'd rather see Bulgaria," he mumbled, flipping a page and almost nuzzling his nose into the small book. "We could go do that. Aren't they playing in the fall? Against Puddlemere United?" She crossed her legs and reached to put a hand on his knee.