This is my story. I sit here beneath the willow tree of my house. My husband regards me silently, pretending to watch the children. It pains me to spell out this tale in words because some events were too horrific, too magical, and too unbelievable for words to accurately describe.
------
It must have been me and me alone. I saw their hidden glances toward each other. His eyes sparkled with the danger. Loving your enemy, it's been uncalled for. At the Order meetings, Harry would watch him speak as if those were his last words to him. They very well could be. Everyday he left this safe house into the world of the dead.
Yes. It was now the world of the dead. No longer were we, the Order, righteous in our attempts to squander Lord Voldemort's suffering. The order had become that pesky fly buzzing about your head, interrupting silent contemplation. Many people had given up the fight because Voldemort offered a good bargain. In fact, if I wasn't dedicated to this cause I might be tempted with this forbidden fruit. All witches and wizards of pure blood had been given gracious amounts of land, land that had been tainted with blood of muggles. Half-bloods paid Voldemort for protection. Against who? Us. We were the dreaded. The evil. The unwanted. No one wanted to hear the voice of reason. The Cleaners, as they were called, sought out the doomed. As far as we knew, the Cleaners were very trustworthy Death Eaters. There was a great reward for the head of an Order Member. Muggles and Muggleborns were killed as a sport. The Order was no longer looked upon to be the saving grace. We were soon forgotten, the pair of robes shoved into the drawer to be thrown out with at a better time. In many ways Voldemort had won the war. He controlled everything from Hogwarts to Northern France. However winning wasn't winning until the boy who lived was pushing up daisies.
Life was twisted.
I alone was their secret keeper. When they needed time away or a quick romp in the hay, I would cover for them. Ron was suspicious, but after all, why would I lie to him? Best friend for god knows how many years. Many nights I spent on the couch because Harry and Draco would forget to wipe the sheets clean. I remember one night of walking in on them fallen asleep. I watched silently as Harry unconsciously shifted to Draco. I remember feeling jealousy. But only a little. Harry was beyond my reach now.
Thinking about now makes my stomach churn.
------------------------------
Christmas 1999
The new millennium was close. Many hoped for a new change.
We knew it was dangerous gathering in a large crowd at our safehouse. The adults were there for company, all unconsciously agreeing on mourning for those who couldn't be there. Ginny held her two children close to her. Tears cascaded down her cheeks for her most recent loss, Neville. He was killed at the last battle. Arthur held Molly close. Remus sat in a corner drinking himself numb. All children sat restless in their chairs.
No one explained why there would be no presents from daddy this year. No one explained why the grown-ups weren't talking, why there were no Christmas decorations to brighten damp spirits. Their innocent eyes only adding to the weight of our hearts.
I'm not sure how long into the mourning process we were when Draco arrived. He looked paler than usual. Harry immediately stiffened; knowing the end was here. Everyone was on guard. Molly locked the children in the cellar, in case of an ambush.
However all precautions were all for naught. Draco assured us there was no attack. We wanted a confirmation from Severus, but Draco only paled more. He excused himself and ran into the bathroom.
There were murmurs as he left. I don't remember who said what. All I noticed was Harry's snake like maneuvering silently up the stairs. Molly summoned everyone in the kitchen for much needed nourishment.
---
I was sitting next to Remus and Ron. Ron was chatting away with Neville Jr. about our days at Hogwarts. Since Neville Jr. was only about six years old with a father passing a year ago he couldn't remember much.
"...Your dad saved me from enough spells to stun a giant. He was amazing. Never seen anyone move that fast."
"You're lying Uncle Ron!" His girlish voice awed.
"Swear on my honor."
"Wow." He turned to tell his sister the wondrous adventures of Neville Longbottom and the Department of Mysteries.
I gave him a thankful smile. Hope was hard to come by these days. I turned to look at Remus. His features hadn't changed much since we were reintroduced in fifth year... ten years ago. His Lycanthropy was the most suitable reason. Although, his grey eyes held much sorrow. I never knew for sure if he and Sirius were lovers, but I had a suspicion.
"Hermione?" His words broke my thought and caused a pink tinge to color my pale cheeks.
"Sorry, just thinking."
"About." I hesitated to answer. Yet that two second pause told him enough.
"I'm sorry." He didn't respond.
That was about the time the crash from upstairs happened. Then there was the pounding of a frantic escape in process. Last there was that silencing slamming of the door. I believe I was the first to saliently leap the stairs.
Harry stood in front of the window, his back to us. The bedroom--my bedroom-- was turned upside down. Books were strewn about the floor, littering every corner. My nightstand was overturned and my sheets shredded. A lovers' feud.
"Get out." His voice was venomous. Yet I didn't move. I crossed the room and stood by his side as I always did.
"He knows." I didn't know what those words meant, what Draco knew. Whatever it was it broke Harry's soul. Hermione didn't know what to do, other than to hug her best friend and comfort him. She felt the tears start to fall on her arms. I cajoled more tears to fall with the soft loving words I muttered.
We never did find out what he meant until it was too late.
----
Each morning the sun rose to the same gloominess and misery as the day before. This day was no different. It was New Year's Eve, if my memory is accurate. I awoke around noontime, having returned late from guard duty. As I trotted down the stairs, I heard voices in the kitchen. I swung open the door to reveal a clearly drunken Fred and George dancing on the table while the others egged them on. Excluding Molly... she was cooking.
"Seems like I missed the party." That comment was to myself, yet Ginny had heard.
"Oh hush, 'Mione. Let us have a drink of two." Her words were slurred. Drunk as well.
"'Mione!" Fred had spotted his prey. He grabbed my arms and brought me on the table to join in their charades.
"Fred, No, Stop!" My laughter contradicted my pleading words. Deciding to give up and enjoy the fun, I danced to the makeshift beat of Neville Jr. and Molly, Ginny's youngest child, a cross between the Ireland Quidditch team's theme and London Bridge.
I barely noticed the glowing Harry glide into the room, or Remus leaning against the doorframe. I paid no attention when Arthur laughed at the display or Molly scolded. Greedy hands grabbed the liquor, firewhiskey and muggle vodka in this case. I downed two shots of Vodka. My limbs felt the tingles spreading, for after all I was a lightweight when it came to drinking.
"Harry! Remus, Won't you join our oh so much fun?" Ginny shoved two shots in their direction. Without being told twice, each drank his share, pouring more. Three. Four. Five shots before either of them showed signs of a drunk. Harry started to sing loudly and dance with Ginny. He twirled her around and around. I felt Remus grab my hands, dancing with me.
My worries and fears were buried beneath the alcohol. There was nothing to worry about right now. No war to be fought. No friends to mourn. I was just a twenty-five-year-old witch enjoying time with my friends.
The laughter died down as dizziness overcame the senses. Each drinker fell gracelessly into a chair. I remember falling into someone's lap, nuzzling his or her neck for stability. It must have been Harry, for hair was tickling my cheek. Senses calming, drowsiness settled in our souls.
The crackling of magic in the air soon filled our ears.
And our hearts. With Fear. Everyone quickly preformed a sobering charm. I instantly missed the warm melancholy feeling. But there was a war.
"Children, run! Go to grandma and tell her Mommy said to stay in the cellar!" Their mother spoke to them. Tears lurked in the corner of her eyes. She pulled them into a tight embrace, knowing these were her last moments with her beloved children. So many thoughts ran through her hand, thoughts of what she would miss. Pushing these tormenting ideas out of her mind she kissed each child. "Go now!" Ginny screamed after her children.
The crackling of magic meant one thing.
The Cleaners.
We all knew someone had betrayed the Order. I remember the cracking of the doors as it was blown of its hinges and the stampede of demons. The leader barged into the kitchen where not an hour ago thoughts of war were incomprehensible.
Draco Malfoy.
Rage that I had never seen has burrowed itself deep in his cold gray eyes. Harry stood transfixed to his spot.
"Crucio." His curse aimed at Harry who gritted his teeth, falling to the floor.
More curses flying as each demon passed under the door. I fought for my sake. Having Fred hit the linoleum floor was a distraction. Two Cleaners from behind stunned me. All I could do was lay motionless on the floor as the fight for our lives were lost. Remus was thrown against the wall by a well-aimed hex, while Ginny lay an arms length away. I didn't know if she was breathing.
Two hands grabbed my waist and carried me out of the safe haven. He, or She, muttered a spell. It was then that I felt my body dissolve and I knew we were no longer at Privet Drive, our safe home.
Cold swept over my limp body. I was in a cellar. Someone was with me. I heard their breathing. Ragged. They were hurt. I made to see if they were all right. However, my arms were chained to the wall, as were my ankles.
"Hello?" My voice was scratchy.
No response.
"Harry? Is that you?" Desperation lined my voice. Were they dead? Was I sitting in a cellar, my only occupant a corpse? To my relief there was a muffled moan.
"Oh Thank God." My restraints let me reach wisps of hair. Long locks of Red hair.
"Ginny!" I shrieked. Her reply was a groan seeping with agony. I wanted to comfort her, help her. But I couldn't. So I settled for stroking her locks of hair.
--
"Get up." My Ribs collapsed under the thrust of a metal boot. Hands grabbing my body once more, dragging me to my feet. It took only a microsecond to realize the sheer amount of pain I was in. My feet felt like lead; every step was a struggle. Ginny moaned as she made her way to her feet.
It was finally light enough to see my surroundings. Fashioned out of some muggle prison movie, the walls were stone gray and grimy. Two torches stood at the end of this long hallway. Beneath the torches sat was a pair of guards. One could not miss the lustful glint in their eyes. I shiver as their gaze washed over my body. I had a feeling their desire would not go unfulfilled.
Our gracious host guided us into a large chamber. By the window stood a few sofas. Sinister tapestries lined the walls. Depictions of sodomy, mutilation, and decomposition were graphically displayed, their subliminal messages seeping into our minds. Voldemort approved of this. A throne like chair was placed perfectly at the end of the hall, able to see every angle of the room. Voldemort would watch our torture there.
More entered. I turned and saw Harry, Remus, Fred, and George encompassed in chains, unlike us. Fear had filled the twin's eyes. Remus stood silently behind them, defeat etched into every line of his face. Harry's eyes were puffy and red. Obviously from crying.
"Welcome Gentlemen." Whatever I imagined his voice, it was not what spoke to us. I had always believed his voice to be greasy and obnoxious. Instead, a smooth tenor sound came from his mouth. Apparently, I wasn't the only one surprised. He regarded each of them with annoyance. Then his eyes rested on Ginny and myself.
"Crucio."
Just as the first time, the needles pricked every cell on my skin, piercing them with hot fury. Tears formed at the corner of my eyes. I willed myself not to cry out, not to give him the sick pleasure of my screams. Another wave of the spell hit me and I felt myself losing the battle. My screams were raw, high, and painful. I felt the needles recede.
I knelt on the floor panting from my screams. Soon, Ginny's screams echoed in the chamber. This time I heard the others intakes of breathe as the watched a love one suffer. Had they done that for me? I couldn't hear anything from my own screams. Minutes trickled by as her screams softened. We all knew her mind was fleeing. She could not handle the reality of war any longer. We all silently said good-bye to Ginny Longbottom.
"I like my bitches on their knees when I enter a room."
"Mister Malfoy has come to me bearing in interesting story." Voldemort's voice drawled. "Perhaps he should explain…" The doors opened and in walked Draco. He was pale, yet his eyes shone brightly. There was no explaining to be done. Harry understood, for he muttered a tearful apology.
"What did you say to me Harry?" Draco's fist connected with Harry's jaw, causing his sturdy frame to stumble. If I had more strength, I would have fought Draco off to protect Harry. Yet I had none left. But I knew Harry deserved whatever he got. After all, if he hadn't infuriated Draco to the point of madness, everyone would be back at the Safe house. Alive. Draco continued to beat Harry until his mouth was bleeding from the bruised organs inside. There were no tears on his face, no sadness lurking in his eyes.
"Draco… stop… please." My voice came out barely a whisper. My throat was on fire from speaking, having been raw from my screams.
"Stop? After that sick bastard cheated on me?"
"Harry would never do that." Yet doubt was evident in my voice. Why would Harry risk the best thing that happened to him? I didn't believe him.
"He did. With Severus!" Sufficient to say I was appalled. Harry and Snape? A man twenty years his senior, a man we had hated. My silence spoke volumes.
"Yes he did. I saw them with my own eyes. Christmas Eve. I was working late when I decided to surprise Harry at his apartment, knowing he would return shortly before heading to the Safe house. When I apparated in, I heard moaning. Quietly I snuck upstairs. Through the crack on the door, I spotted Harry on his knees with Snape in his mouth. Soon they lie in bed together soon they were one. Anger like I'd never felt before coursed through me. I came here, knowing I would be welcomed into the fold. My Lord was kind enough to let me speak, knowing I had so defied him in the past. I told him I could bring him Harry Potter in a matter of a week. After my deserved torture, I rounded up the Cleaners to take care of you filth." Draco's words lingered in the hall. Ron stood slacked-mouthed taking in, not only that Harry and Draco had been together, but Harry and Snape as well.
"Liar!" Ron lunged toward Draco. Fred and George pulled him back. Voldemort stood with an amused look on his devil face.
"Tell this sick bastard he's wrong Harry!" Ron pleaded with his eyes more than his voice.
"I'm sorry Draco."
Voldemort's laughter rang like bells in the room. Seizing his wand, he targeted Harry.
"Avada Kedavra."
The Boy who lived was gone.
Two house elves carted Harry and Ginny's bodies away. They sent us back to the cellars. I was now placed with Remus. Fred and George were a few cellars down. But we couldn't see them. I could barely see my hand in front of my face.
We had no idea what was in store for us, whether they would just torture us, or kill us. I hoped to God it was the latter but secretly knew it was the former.
"Remus?"
"Yes?"
"I'm cold." He opened his arms and I crawled inside his embrace. He was warm and smelt refreshing. I wrapped my arms around his waist to move closer and keep warm. His muscles tightened against my touch. Did he think I was going to hurt him? I felt a little hurt inside.
"Remus."
"Yes?"
"I don't want to live anymore."
"I've wished that thought for twenty years, Hermione." I remember the sadness and regret in his voice, I knew at that moment he missed Sirius greatly. I cuddled as he traced abstract patterns on my back, something my mother use to do to me when I was a child. Tears fell silently. My tears mingled with his.
Our cellar screeched open. At the doorway stood a tall imposing figure, clothed in Death Eater attire. He strolled to where we lay huddle in the corner, like puppies fearing their punishment for piddling on the Oriental rug. Elegant hand reached out to roughly grasp my hair. Whoever was behind the mask ruthlessly dragged me down the hall, where he proceeded to clasp rusty handcuffs on my wrists while casting a charm I couldn't make out.
I knew this was my torture time.
I returned to Remus battered and bruised. Blood trickled down my thighs as the internal wounds continued to fester. I couldn't see out of my eyes for they were bruised from the abuse. My wrists were chaffed from the ropes that secured me in place, as were my ankles. Remus tended to me as much as he could. Whenever he was in the cell with me, he hugged me close, lightly kissing my bruises. He told me stories of the marauders and his love for Sirius.
I was envious of the fact Remus was neglected for torture. He didn't have to deal with their laughter or their breath on your neck. He was lucky.
I'm not sure when our relationship changed from teacher student to lovers. It might have been that first night when I came back from my raping, when he held me closely. Perhaps it was back when we were free of our imprisonment. I would never be able to pinpoint that instant change of thoughts.
With his kisses and caresses it reminded me there was life beyond pain. He was aware of my bruised and kissed each one with tender passion. Other nights he was wild and displayed a passion I could never have imagine being locked up inside this gentleman.
Two weeks of the same ritual, I would go for my punishment then Remus would be there to kiss away the pain. Remus was starting to change. His temper was becoming short, his caresses less gentle. His moods were drastic in their effect and more so in they're changing. I knew the Full Moon was close. I also knew they would not let me out.
Once more my captor opened the door and dragged me out. He led me into the same chamber. Hungry, lust filled eyes looked upon my body. I felt the ropes tie me down to the hard mattress infested with maggots. Hands tore my ragged clothing from my body, leaving their gaze to my naked flesh. They took me as they pleased, whether I screamed of pleaded was only a bonus to their sick minds. Teeth and hands gnawed my skin. They would hit me, as I lay motionless beneath them, my mind floating to another plane of existence. One man resorted to twisting my nipples hard enough to tear the delicate skin.
My captor was always last to use me. Most of the others would leave by his turn. He thrust into my body with slow agonizing movements, licking and sucking every wound, causing the fire to burn with pain. I squirmed for he didn't let me go. Sometimes he'd put me under Imperio to use him myself. Other times he entered my mind, showing me his memories of killing my friends. He always carried me back to my Remus.
That night however, he erased all my cuts and bruises with a wave of his wand. I regarded him with questioning eyes in which he responded: "Werewolves don't like mutilated prey." I knew that wasn't true, yet I knew he was reinforcing the fact I was going to die. I hated him for that alone.
He threw me into my cellar. I knew this was the eve of the Full Moon.
"Remus. Please." I whispered softly. He needn't ask any questions. His mouth hovered over mind before his lips touched mine. I parted my lips for him to enter. He did to hesitantly. I knew he was trying not to let the wolf overtake him. Fiercely, I returned his kiss, rolling onto him. My fire drew the wolf to the surface. His hands roamed over my body with an eagerness he never displayed, it left me breathless. Lips, teeth and tongue clashed for control as we rolled on the stone floor.
That night was unlike anything I've ever experienced. The man I spent that night with, was not a man. He was a much more primitive with his forceful thrusts and raw moan. We reached a higher plane than any night before. My limbs were tingling with pleasure for sometime after. Yet in the heat of his passion he did not deliver what I had planned to get. His bite. The bite that would change me once a month into the horrid beast he had learned to live with his whole lifetime. This beast, large and menacing, was my only means of escape.
"Please Remus." I whimpered. He gazed at me questioningly as he pulled me closer. I bite his neck lightly, hoping he would understand what I meant. Nuzzling my neck, I felt his teeth sink into my skin. My hands grabbed at his back as a whimper of pain escaped my lips. It was strange, endless hours of rape and torture had only caused my heart to turn cold against mankind. No screams were ever heard from my mouth. Yet this bite hurt more than anything I could have imagined. I actually felt my blood turn black for a moment as the curse entered my body. The sharp pain vanished, leaving behind a dull ache. The ache was similar to a headache after reading too long or thinking too hard.
He didn't ask anymore questions. His breathing evened out. I knew I could not sleep. My shoulder bleed softly from the bite. I thought of how I came to be here. Was I shagging my former professor for survival or for love?
Full Moon. Voldemort, My captor, and many other death eaters crowded by our prison cell to see the mutilation of me, Hermione Granger. I saw Voldemort's eyes sparkle. His red eyes shone with the enjoyment of this torture. My captor stood to the side. I could not make out his face, but I knew he was grinning behind that hideous mask. I could see the corners of his mouth twitching with anticipation.
Remus fell to the floor. As did I. It was that time my Captor took off his mask, revealing Draco Malfoy. He sprinted to the lock, then threw the door open.
Pandemonium ensued.
Voldemort backed away from, not one, but two werewolves. I remember feeling the worse pain ever in my life. My jaw dislocated from its proper place, then lengthen, teeth sprouting from the excessive gums. I remember feeling my organs expand, along with my skin. My skin sprouting hair that never existed. The bones in my legs shattered then reformed, my joints enlarged.
I no longer knew reason, only instinct and only blood. I jumped on the door, fighting the death eaters trying to close the door. My teeth ripped skin, hair, and god knows what else. I couldn't remember whom I struck of how they tasted. Freedom compelled me, along with revenge.
I smelt Remus running behind me. Bloody paw prints left him a trail to me. I dashed from the prison, into wherever Voldemort was hiding. The cold hallway caused my hair to stand on end. I could hear more wizards running towards the escaped prisoners. Remus and I ran, we had no idea where we were headed whether it was closer to freedom or further into captivity. Wizards were behind us now, flying stunning spells and killing curses. I heard Remus whimper behind me, his taboo falling silent. Running up stairs and turning corners I found myself sprinting towards the exit. The worn wooden door was the key to the outside. Throwing myself against the door, I felt the hinges buckle under the force.
Death eaters were turning the corner, fifty yards behind me. A spell hit the doorframe.
Once again I thrust my wolf body against the door, this time it fell forward. Fresh air hit my face and was savored by my lungs. Screaming voices of angry men died down. I knew I was free then. My paws continued to push me until I collapsed, many miles away from Hell.
I awoke sore, Very sore. My soreness bred from the very marrow of my bones. I gracefully lay in a bank of snow. The white powder caked with the blood on my body. Blood. That was what compelled me to run. Not my freedom, but more blood. I felt the tears in my eye for what I had to do to leave that place. I hit myself in my foolishness. Trading certain death for the life of a Werewolf? In a world where evil reigned and the good were brutally murdered. I wanted the earth to swallow me up. I wanted a time-turner to go back to the pervious night and tell myself not to let Remus bite me. The pain the day after was too great.
I knew not how long I wept in the snow before it occurred to me I was alone. Wearily, I stood on my two feet. How awkward it felt.
I would make my life on my own. No more weeping for phantoms that plague my mind. I would not search for Remus, a lover I would never ever see again. It would cause pain to see his condemned soul. It was that moment I decided to leave the wizarding world for good. I would live in America, or Asia, Perhaps New Zealand. I told myself I would marry a muggle. This was the end of my magical life. This was the End of Hermione Granger.
Closing my journal, I looked at my Husband. Abel Solmons was a nice man. Born in New Zealand, he had rarely left his homeland. His broad figure and gray eyes reminded me slightly of that werewolf I left behind. I met him while searching for a job at the local bar. Six months later he proposed to me on Christmas Eve. After, Three years of happily being married we had twins. He named them Harold and Emily, After his parents. A year later Brett came into our lives.
No one knows of Hermione Granger. No one knows of her horrible curse, or her heart wrenching past. I never spoke a word of my adventures at the magical school of Hogwarts. Nor did I speak of any relations in the past. When my children questioned if magic was real, I told them if you believed hard enough that it might be. They know not that I am a witch. They only know Gemma Solmons. They wife of the respected Abel, a lawyer, the stay-at-home mom, nurturing my young.
Sometimes I long to whip out my wand and perform simple cleaning charms. But my wand, along with everything else magical, was destroyed when I kept their secret.