You Dropped Your Books Nerd
larrythestapler
A/N: After reading a few stories and novels about rape, I felt inspired to write a fanfiction :) But I can't honestly say that I've ever experienced it, so forgive me if my character isn't very developed. Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter
"You dropped your books, nerd," the pale boy with slicked back hair told her. The blond sneered, although he did help her with her numerous textbooks. The concept was odd, but for the whole year, Draco Malfoy had become more kindhearted than ever, although still retaining a condescending, haughty attitude. He shoved the stack of books back into her arms and stared at her as she regained her balance.
Hermione looked up and replied with a mumbled colloquial greeting with a quiet thank you. She didn't have time for the stuck-up idiot. She spent her last few days avoiding the glorified Harry Potter. She lived in the poorest quality of life, her straight hair knotted and tangled, up in a pragmatic bun. Her face, pale, had a dry complexion, but her bright blue eyes lit up with fear and wariness. Dressed in a shaggy robe and faded jeans, she marched out of the way, around ten or twelve books in her arm.
And with just the resonance of his hollowed name, she remembered the incidence.
The party at school was magnificent, loud, crowded. Harry wrapped his scrawny arms around her, chatting about Quidditch and wizarding sports as they ripped through the crowded hall. She loved Harry's endless questions and curiousity; it enrichened the quality of her soul and spirit. They awkwardly fit somehow, she being a reprimanding bookworm, and him a dreamy athletic hero. Hermione felt loved, and trusted the warmth of his emerald eyes. He was considerate, charming, and popular. His words felt savvily charming and sweet, as they rang in her ears, especially those three words of epic bliss. She entered the room with her boyfriend, thinking he honestly cherished her emotions and being.
Christmas was a big deal at the school. The halls were decked with holly,wreaths, and gifts exploded from every corner. Cheer littered the ambiance, smiles pasted on every face. The brunette smiled at the sight.
The smile quickly vanished when she saw a swig of alcohol in Harry's hands.
"Harry, you shouldn't drink." Hermione reprimanded sternly. She grabbed the beer from his hand.
"Hermione, it's one sip. Loosen up and have a little fun." Harry slapped her hand and took back the alcohol. Hermione smiled shyly, submissive to his laced words. Love was more important than rules, and she had one chance to make it right, she compensated. The party continued on, at a faster pace.
Sips soon turned to bottles, and soon, they found themselves playing a game of Spin the Bottle with a group of strangers, crossed on the floor of outer garden of the school, near a dark campfire. It glowed a bright orange, and Harry spun the bottle, but before the act, checked for remaining drops of liquid. It spun, and spun, for an eternity, and Hermione felt a knot in her stomach when it pointed at her. The group cheered crudely, and Harry took her hand to the shack to fulfill seven minutes in heaven.
After a short walk, and a brief chat, Harry took her to the shabby shack near the Forbidden Forest. Walking awkwardly from the burning alcohol, he pushed her into the shack gently, and planted a kiss on her lips. It was cold, and soft, his breath tasting sweet. Hermione blossomed, and blushed from the awkward moment.
"I love you Harry."
"I love you too." A long kiss followed, and Harry suggested them to go back to the dorms in a buzzed, broken voice. Hermione's mind could not escape from the bliss, fooled and deceived by the lies of love.
But no, Harry did not lead her back to the dorms. After experimenting with strong liquor, the smell and power blinding his ability to think, he grabbed her hand out of the shack and led her under a tree in the Forbidden Forrest in the darkness of the night. She complied, without much thought, still shocked from the grip of his warm hands and the planted liplocking.
But an evil sentiment stole her that moment.
Suddenly, the boy who lived pushed her against an enormous silvery tree, restricting her from breathing properly. His wet lips, his breath stanching of strong liquor pressed against her chapped lips; it felt dirty and repulsive. An ugliness spread throughout her soul, as a sentiment of violation shocked her. The moon shone above them, oblivious of the dangers of the night.
Hermione began whimpering, struggling to remove herself from Harry's presence. He increased the pressure on her body, applying more force to Hermione's petite frame as his lips parted to moan slightly, his hands wrapped around her wispy hair.
"This needs to happen 'Mione. I love you." His mouth moaned yes, but his bright green eyes flashed of a foreboding evil, as if a beast were unleashed in his subconscious. Harry pushed her to the muddy ground, cool from the winter weather. Crudely, unevenly, his wet lips were still attached to hers, and Hermione's face was now stained with tears, scared, guilty, and lost. She struggled to push him, but he choked her with his free hand, running down her neck to the privacy of her lower abdomen. The breath of alcohol polluted the air, as he removed her upper garments, and made his way to her lower abdomen. Hermione struggled for her wand, crying in the cold darkness, no one hearing her quiet screams. And then, complete darkness came into her and the moon darkened to a deep indigo.
She was lost.
Quickly fumbling for her wand on the cold snowy ground, she reached for it and with effort casted a Patronus charm. She remembered the first time she met Ron and Harry, the permanent smiles on their faces when they first met one another. Exuberant rhapsody.
She expected an otter to come, and rescue her from the inconsolable disgust and lament she felt.
In the background, the screech of a bird echoed in the forest.
It was not the otter. No, it was the screaming mockingbird who rescued her, leaving Harry Potter on the floor, unaware of the winter weather, his surroundings, or the person next to him. His green eyes flashed, hollowed, dead, and he stayed on the dirty ground until rosy Dawn touched the sky with her magnificence. Hermione watched, as her bare skin touched the soiled ground, the flight of the silvery mockingbird, crying a melancholic song of lament and despair. Saved from danger, she quickly made her way back to the dorms as she realized her predicament, the night stealing away her secret forever. Her lips were sealed from the event, fear numbing her mind and body.
Never. Never would she forget the evil in his eyes. Never would she forget the way the careless moon shone through the night without care. Never would Hermione forget the taste of his wet liquored lips. Never will she forget the silence of the trees and the frigidness of the snowy ground. Absolutely never would she forget the night she lost her innocence forever. Never would she forgive Harry. Never.
Hermione stormed off after Malfoy rejoined his group, sneering at her, but the sincere gaze in his eyes never permanently left. His gray eyes softened a bit, and watched the storming girl make her way through the crowd.