» Title: I Still Do.
» Author: Jae-Zrock.
» Oneshot: Yes.
» Rating: Teen, perhaps a very mild Mature.
» Warnings: Alcoholism. Promiscuity (implied). Non-consensual sex (implied, not described). Some language. Torture. Sadism. Darkness.
» Pairings: HermioneHarry, somewhat of an established relationship.
» Spoilers: None, at all, really.
» Disclaimer: Don't own anything associated with JKR's alternate universe or her herself. Or the themes listed in the warning, although sadism is a specialty of mine.
» Summary: Hermione, according to Draco Malfoy, has done some naughty things behind Harry's back. Now, Harry is getting his revenge.
» Other: First of all, I want a BIG round of applause and as many flowers as you can find to be sent straight to ChapeauVert. She 'lent' me this plot that came from her South Park fic called 'On A Friday', which you should check out. Although I wrote all of this, I think it's right to admit that she is the base of this entire fic, so snaps (and hugs) for her! Next, this is very American, since that's what I am. If someone wants to PM me or write in a review what I could do to make it a bit more 'English', feel free. It's a form of constructive criticism, which I appreciate dearly. Finally, REVIEW and let me know how I did. YES, HARRY IS OUT OF CHARACTER. HE'S DRUNK, PEOPLE. IT HAPPENS. And Hermione is a lot OOC, too. It happens when people get scared/are in love. FLAMES ABOUT THEIR OOC-ness WILL BE USED TO WRITE A CRACKFIC WHERE HARRY SCREWS VOLDEMORT AND HERMIONE BURNS HER PRECIOUS BOOKS. Any other flames will be used to heat up my house this coming winter. Read on. :D
Hermione Granger was in her honorary bedroom in Number 12, Grimmauld Place, running her finger along a bookshelf and trying to find one she hadn't read through more than ten times. The search was, thus far, futile, and she didn't get a chance to complete it since, at that moment, her bedroom door banged open behind her, causing her to whirl around, wide-eyed, one hand pressed to her chest. She let out a relieved sigh when she saw it was just one of her best friends and the man she'd been seeing exclusively ever since their mutual realization that they fancied each other, Harry Potter. Her panic, though, came creeping back when she noticed the bottle hanging loosely from his hand, proudly boasting Firewhiskey on it's label. Her gaze stayed riveted on the glass container and Harry noticed, following her gaze down to it, then looking back up to grin at her, although it was a bit lopsided, confirming that he was absolutely smashed. He began to slowly cross the room to her, his grin turning twisted and malevolent.
"H-Harry?" Hermione ventured unsurely, backing up a little as he stepped even closer to her. His lips curled back over his teeth in a malicious smile at her audible swallow, beautiful emerald eyes flashing behind askew glasses and raven-black bangs.
Slowly, so as not to draw attention to it, Hermione felt in her deep pockets for her wand. The sudden panic she felt must've bled into her expression because Harry's awful grin widened and he held up a very familiar piece of wood, twirling it between two fingers lazily.
"Looking for this?" he drawled. Hermione's frightened gaze moved from her wand in his hand up to his face, then back. "You know, Hermione, you shouldn't leave this just lying around. People could just use it against you." Something in that statement made it sound like a promise. Hermione couldn't take this silently, especially not without an explanation.
"Harry, what is wrong with you? Why are you being like this?" Hermione backed up a step further as his lip curled in revulsion and she whimpered, feeling the unforgiving bookshelf behind her, trapping her between it and this monster that was not the familiar, loving best friend she'd known since she was eleven.
"Why? Don't you know, Hermione?" For once in her life, Hermione wished Harry would just hurry up and do what he planned; it would be over more quickly that way. For once in his life, though, Harry seemed to be taking Hermione's 'think before you act' lectures to heart, and was drawing this out long and painfully. "Hermione, I had the most interesting talk with Draco Malfoy today," Harry told her. His voice had changed. It wasn't full of pure contempt now, it was a tone that someone would use when trying to be civil and make conversation with someone they did not like. It was fake and almost worse than him letting her know he was disgusted with her.
Hermione didn't understand. How was Draco in this? Harry and Draco weren't even on civil terms, really, so why did talk? Was Harry so drunk that he was making things up that weren't really issues, or was he-
A sudden memory, brought up from the corner she'd stuffed it so she could forget it, hit her like a ton of bricks. Her eyes widened and she flicked them up to look at his face, horrified and suddenly on the verge of tears of humiliation. Harry, smirking, seemed pleased with the response, asking, in a self-satisfied way, "Remember?"
"Harry, I swear, I didn't do anything with him!" Hermione tried to protest. Harry, disgust coming back and looking entirely unconvinced, crossed his arms over his chest and rocked back on his heels, not replying, which made Hermione talk even faster to try and make him believe her. "He came here, for no real reason, and I let him in, and we talked about stupid things, really. I mean, it wasn't stupid, exactly, just a bit pointless, and I eventually asked him why he was here. He didn't answer, just looked at me, and I just got the feeling that I was… that I was… prey to him or something, so I got a little nervous and asked him to leave. He stood, like he was going to do as I told him, but he suddenly just… attacked me and started kissing me. I tried to fight, honest, I did, but he's stronger than me, and he just wouldn't get off. I bit his tongue and lip, but he just grinned and then hit me with something, I guess, because I can't remember much for the little bit after that. When I woke back up, he was lying next to me, both of us naked, and I had a little bit of dried blood from where he'd hit me, plus all of these bite marks, all over. He left right after that, before I could get over my shock, and when he left, he said: 'You shouldn't bite people who can bite back, Granger.' I swear I didn't want to, Harry, you've got to believe me!" From his expression, though, it was obvious he didn't.
"But the main idea of this fascinating tale is that you fucked Draco Malfoy, am I right?" Hermione looked away from his sharply, a single tear running down her cheek. Harry grabbed her chin in his hand, jerking her face back so he could look her in the eyes, his normally molten, lively green irises now cold, almost ice-like in appearance. "Are you not even going to tell me details? You're going to give me some bullshit story to make it seem like you're innocent, and not screw with me some more by telling me exactly what that bloody son of a bitch did to you?" Harry seemed almost surprised, though his expression still only registered disdain. Hermione tried to shake her head, not succeeding as her face was still captured in his grip.
"I already did tell you! I don't remember, Harry!" Hermione half-sobbed. She continued, even though Harry's fingers were beginning to dig into her skin. "He knocked me out, then had sex with me. I didn't have a say in it!" Harry sighed, shook his head, and dropped his hand from her face. She took a chance, throwing herself onto him, her arms wrapping around his neck as she pulled his lips down to meet hers. He tasted bad, like Firewhiskey and something else she couldn't place, but was definitely alcoholic. She knew she had other things to worry about, but in the back of her mind, she foolishly filed away a note to self to talk to him about mixing drinks. Harry kissed back, his lips mashing against her brutally, his teeth sinking into her bottom lip, lightly at first, then hard enough to draw blood. It reminded her of what she'd done to Draco, and she pulled away, more tears overflowing onto her cheeks.
His eyes were now positively alive with emotion, none of them relieving Hermione in the slightest. The most evident were rage, hate, vengefulness, and malice, though there was a little bit of lust and sorrow. Hermione, however, could only feel fear.
"Please stop, Harry," she whispered. He grabbed her hips and jerked her flush against himself, one arm holding her to him by the waist. His lips kissed and licked down the goose-bumped neck of her flesh, and, despite herself, Hermione's head tilted back and she moaned as he caught a sensitive spot right behind her ear with his tongue. Kisses, though, turned to bites, hard ones that had no appeal whatsoever, and although she tried to get away from him, his arm held her in place easily.
"Why should I?" he hissed in her ear, stopping his assault momentarily. "Did Draco stop?" Hermione couldn't control her tears, which began to stream down her face in torrents as she finally began to lose it.
"Harry, don't you get it?" Hermione screamed, having had all she could take of this. She was either going to force him to go ahead and finish with her or make him see reason- though the latter was as likely as her actually having consensual sex with Draco. Harry pulled back, surprised at the sheer volume of her voice and that she had finally lost complete control. "I didn't have sex with Draco! And do you know why? Because I would never have done that to you! I LOVED YOU, HARRY!"
He didn't speak or move for a moment, the anger in his eyes dulling as he stared at her. Only the sound of her heavy breathing filled the room. Then, she whispered, almost ashamed to admit it:
"And I think I still do."