ONE
The derelict castle they stumbled into was musty. Dust entered her lungs as they traversed deeper into the crumbling structure. Hermione put her back flat against a wall while motioning for Harry to cover the other side of the main hall. She watched him move with silent feet behind a wall decorated with a tattered tapestry that had seen better days. Together, they moved forward with their wands at the ready.
"You think you're the good ones, don't you?" A desperate voice echoed from somewhere up the grand staircase. "Running around throwing people in jail for merely doing what they love."
"Voldemort is long gone," Harry grit out. "He's been gone for years! What you've been doing is pointless. You won't be rewarded for torturing and killing. Come with us and you won't get hurt. I promise." Sweat trickled from their brows. The manhunt was coming to a close and it never ended as they hoped. They never went down without a fight. Ever. In a perfect world maybe.
"Don't you dare speak His name! You bastard! He'll be back!" There was shuffling upstairs in the hall. This had both of them moving up the stairs stealthily. "Death is better than being thrown in with the Dementors! Curse you, Potter!"
They were getting closer now. They moved up the grand staircase, eyes scanning every shadow and crevice. Clouds of dust erupted from the carpet at their feet with each step they took. It was getting harder to see, with their only light source being the patches of sunlight seeping in through the collapsing walls.
Thorfinn Rowle had managed to escape after the Second Wizarding War. He went into hiding and then spent close to a decade terrorizing magical and non-magical citizens of Britian, leaving death and destruction in his wake. When the Auror Office finally located him, Harry and Hermione had moved on from being Aurors to Hit Wizards. There were only a handful of these specialized Witches and Wizards within the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and their task was to take down the most dangerous of criminals. And right now, their task was to either bring him back to the Ministry to pay for his crimes or eliminate him completely.
A series of red lights suddenly emerged from their left. Hermione barely managed to dodge the assault by throwing her whole body into a room. She landed painfully on her shoulder as the spells whizzed past her.
"Merlin's balls!" Harry on the other hand was hit. He fell to the ground shaking violently but not screaming. He would not give Rowle the satisfaction of hearing his cries. "Bastard... was throwing...his voice!"
Thorfinn materialized from the shadows and stepped over Harry's convulsing body and entered the room. Hermione cast many spells meant to neutralize him. He blocked them with ease. "Those childish spells won't work on me. You have to curse me like you mean it!"
Now that he was out in the open, Hermione illuminated the room with a silent spell. The sudden onslaught of light caused the Death Eater to stagger momentarily. Hermione took the opportunity to run across the room and vault over the bed and lay herself flat on the ground. From her viewpoint, she could see Harry in the hallway struggling to free himself from the curse. Come on, Harry. You were trained to break out of any Crucio. This is nothing compared to Voldemort's. It's going to take two of us to take him down! Come on, get up!
Hermione watched Thorfinn's tattered shoes start moving again. "You think you're so good and righteous. You've never tasted the true sweetness of the Dark Arts, have you, love?" He paced around the room. "What a wonderful and amazing feeling it is to torture and kill! What do you say, Golden Girl?"
She kept her mouth shut during the one-sided conversation the lunatic was having.
"Oh, but you're missing out. I can show you the way and you'll never want to crawl out of the darkness." His voice was near manic. "Just come out from there and let. Me. Show you!" The bed flew across the room and exploded into pieces when it hit the wall. The feathers within the mattress fluttered all around them. Hermione got to her feet in an instant and they engaged in a duel, spells and curses flying back and forth. His weathered face was contorted into one of insanity, reminiscent of Bellatrix Lestrange. Hermione fought back a shudder at the memory. His blonde hair was now in patches on his head and his eyes were dead and consumed with madness.
They both dodged and dodged for what seemed like hours before Rowle was sent flying across the room. He landed behind her with a sickening thud.
"Move out of the way, Hermione!" Harry stood at the doorway breathing heavily and drenched in sweat. His wand was aimed in her direction. "Now!"
Time seemed to slow as she turned her head around with wide eyes. Rowle was slouched against the wall with his wand pointed at the ready, a sick smirk stretching his bloodied lips as he uttered an incantation. With the last of his energy, he screamed from the top of his lungs,"Sordide Peccatorus!" I'll see you in hell, love." Hermione was already in the air, moving to the side when the flash of purple light struck her. As she hit the floor, the darkness clouding the edges of her vision slowly started to consume her. An ice cold feeling began to seep into her veins, rendering her motionless. She started screaming.
"Hermione!" Harry's voice echoed in her mind. She watched him jump over her with determination. "What have you done?!"
"You'll see, Potter." Rowle cackled.
"You fucking-"
"Avada Kedavra!"
"No!"
Their voices faded away along with her consciousness.
Two weeks. It has been two weeks since Harry brought Hermione to the private infirmary solely for Ministry of Magic employees. The Hit Witches and Wizards had their own wing with individual rooms assigned to them. This was Hermione's first time to ever occupy her room because they were always a good team. They never got this hurt.
Harry sat beside her bed and held her hand. He stared at the many potions on the bedside table before looking at his best friend's sleeping face. "This is my fault, 'Mione. I was careless."
A pale hand grasped his shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. "How many times are you going to say that? Your winning streak was bound to come to an end, Potter."
"But not like this. Look at her. Not one person here, or the Ministry, or St. Mungo's can explain why this has happened to her. Not even our Ancient Runes experts can decipher what has marred her skin." He rubbed his hands up and down her right arm. "Who knows how that curse affected her. Maybe she'll be a vegetable for the rest of her life."
Draco Malfoy leaned forward and examined the black ink on Granger's skin. There were plenty of ancient runes and Celtic designs wrapping itself around her right arm from the wrist up. From what that French woman had explained, it went all the way down her back as well, in the form of a lion with red eyes, with runes tattooing its face. "Too bad Rowle offed himself. I always hated him. Should have killed him when You-Know-Who had me torture him."
"But that's not you. You could never do that even if you wanted to." Harry put his hand on Draco's arm.
Draco offered a small smile. "Granger will be fine."
"How do you know that, Draco? How does anyone know that? Who knows if she'll even- "
"Shut up Potter, you're starting to annoy me." Draco silenced him by pressing their lips together. The Boy Who Lived instantly let go of his friend's hand and buried his fingers into Draco's short platinum locks. "Mm... That's much better." Their kiss deepened as their hands wandered.
It was starting to get hot and heavy before a voice killed the mood.
"Seeing you two make-out is hot and all, but it's definitely not the first thing I want to see when I wake up."
The two men separated with a pop, panting heavily.
Draco stood up and straightened out his dress robes and hair. He smirked, "Granger."
"Hermione!" Harry blushed. "How are you feeling? I was worried sick!" He got out from his seat and crawled onto her bed and lay on top of her with the full weight of his body. "Are you okay?" He buried his face into her shoulder and sighed. "You need a shower." he murmured.
"Potter, get off! You're acting like a little girl."
"I can't breathe! Get your fat arse off of me!" Hermione shoved him off. "Merlin, Harry. What are you, 5?" She took the opportunity to slowly get herself into a sitting position.
"I'll go fetch the Head Matron. Good to see you conscious, Granger." Draco nodded to them both then saluted Hermione before exiting the room.
"I'm sorry Hermione. It's just that I thought I had lost you to an ancient evil spell of some sort." He settled back on the chair he had been occupying for the duration of her stay. "We weren't sure if you'd ever wake up."
She stretched her stiff limbs. "How long was I out?"
"About two weeks." Harry paused, "You sure you're feeling alright?"
She grinned at him. "I actually feel fine. Better even."
"I'm glad... About what happened - "
The door to her room swung open and in came Fleur Delacour dressed in white robes with gold trimmings.
"I'm going to 'ave to ask you two to give Mademoiselle Granger and I some privacy." She said dismissively. Harry looked like he was about to protest but thought better of it due to the look Fleur was giving him.
He gave Hermione's hand one last squeeze, "We'll talk later, 'Mione. I promise."
"See you, Harry."
When they were left alone, Hermione looked up at Fleur's crystalline blue eyes staring down at her in wonder. " 'Ermione. It 'as been a while. 'ow are you feeling? We are all very happy to see that you are awake." Her heavy French accent was gone. "I'm going to run a diagnostic spell. Can you lay on your back please?"
Hermione gulped and obeyed. It had been years since she had seen Fleur. They had lost touch at the end of the war. Fleur's marriage with Bill had collapsed after two years. Ginny had told her in passing. She had been too busy being an Auror and then training to become a Hit Witch, that she barely had time for herself let alone their friends.
Merlin, she was as beautiful as ever. She thought that in a good way and not in the jealous sort of way that she used to feel when they were much younger. She felt content feeling the older witch's warm magic. Touch her, a voice within her urged. Do it!
She watched the Mediwitch run her wand over her body with utter concentration and then zeroed in on the woman's plump lips that looked utterly kissable. Hermione fought the urge to pull the blonde woman onto the bed and have her way with her. Claim her! Do it now. Flashes of the older witch's face contorting into one of ecstasy filled her mind and she nearly reached out to fulfill the fantasy playing out in her daydream.
Images of the French witch tied up with ropes, suspended in the air with magic reeled in her mind. The things that she could be doing to her. Claim her! Claim what is yours! A growl rumbled deep within Hermione's chest. "Fleur." It was a voice not like her own - but hers all the same.
The blonde paused and looked at her with flushed cheeks. "O-oui, 'Ermione?"
She was sure that the blonde could sense her impure thoughts. What are you waiting for? Hermione reached out to play with a lock of blonde hair - "What the bloody hell is that?!" Her eyes widened at the newly acquired designs on her arm. Jumping from the bed, she ran into what she assumed was the loo and examined the ink in the mirror. "Merlin's beard help me." Her voice was faint as she sagged onto the toilet.
"'Ermione it will be all right." Fleur put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "From what 'Arry explained to me, it seems that the Death Eater placed a permanent curse on you when 'e killed 'imself. It is filled with Dark Magic and that is the extent of what we know. The Ministry is working 'ard to find someone who is able to make sense of what 'as 'appened."
Hermione let out a pulse of magic that made the floor and walls crack under the pressure. "That stupid Rowle. I should have killed him! Ripped his body into shreds when I had the fucking chance!"
Fleur's eyes widened at the outburst. Both magically and verbally. "I am afraid there is more to it, mon ami." Fleur brought Hermione to a stand in front of the mirror with her back to it. "If I may." She untied the hospital gown. She then conjured a mirror and charmed it so that it stayed afloat in front of Hermione's face.
"How did I know that there was more..." Hermione fell silent while examining the lion peeking out from under the loose gown. "I look like a tattoo artist's wet dream."
Fleur raised a brow, a what? "I know this is a lot to take in all at once. But I can assure you that your 'ealth and well-being 'as not been affected whatsoever. In fact, it seems that your magical power 'as been amplified and not an ounce of sickness was found during our daily diagnostics. We 'ad a team of 'ealers keeping watch around the clock when you first arrived."
"How is that good news? Only Merlin knows what has merged with my magic. What if I somehow can't control it later on and kill everyone?"
"We will just have to wait and see, non? In the meantime I suggest you go 'ome to recuperate. I will inform the 'ealers at the desk of your departure."
With that, Fleur left.
After informing the Healers at the main desk that Hermione was due to check-out, Fleur went straight into her office and immediately sat down on her chair to gather her thoughts. Her heart was beating a mile a minute against her rib cage.
The Veela within had awoken from its deep slumber when her name fell from the Golden Girl's lips with such command. The raw sexual energy the brunette exuded rolled out of her in waves and directly into Fleur's very core. Her legs nearly gave out from the intensity of it.
Her Veela became restless and wanted nothing more than to submit to Hermione. It was driving both of them mad. Be calme, please. In the weeks that she had checked up on the younger woman, not once did Fleur feel her Veela stir. But somehow it woke up begging to pounce on Hermione Granger. If the other woman had not gotten distracted by the curse marking her skin, she would not have had the will-power to stop the Veela from getting its way.
When she was with her ex-husband Bill, her Veela did nothing when he abused her both physically and emotionally. Not a single peep. Not once did it make itself known so that Bill Weasley could feel its wrath. Her Veela would have given her the strength to fight back and leave him sooner. She would not have waited two painful years to get away from him.
Fleur rubbed her cheek at the phantom pain. He was never afraid to leave bruises where others could see it. She would merely throw on a glamour when people came by to visit. They acted like the perfect couple until the very end. It sickened her. To this day she wonders what she possibly saw in the man.
She frowned. He was handsome and kind once upon a time.
Fleur cringed as the memory came flooding back.
"When I say I want your fucking cunt. I fucking mean it. Now spread your legs and give me some love. Junior is waiting." Bill cornered her in the kitchen rubbing at his erection. His scarred face was red from the large bottle of Firewhiskey he consumed all too quickly.
"Not right now, Bill. Please." Fleur backed away from him. He would always get into one of his moods while drinking and she tried to stay as far away as possible.
He proceeded to smash the vase on the kitchen table. Fleur flinched. "You will do as I say!" In one swift movement, he roughly grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her towards him, he then grabbed her hair in an iron-grip and forced her to bend forward over the counter. "That's more like it, you whore." He freed himself from his pants and spit on his hand.
Fleur felt the hot tears puddle around her face as he ripped her knickers from her body and forcefully entered her. The pain was unbearable. Please help me. She called for the slumbering Veela. Please.
Nothing.
When he finished, Fleur gathered herself and repaired the broken glass on the floor with a trembling hand.
"Did I fucking say you can do that?" He smacked her with an almighty force causing her to stumble. Blood trickled from her mouth. "At least wait until I'm out of the room."
She spit on the floor. "Fuck you."
Help me please. "Say again?" He smacked her again. That one was sure to leave a bruise.
That's when she noticed Ginny standing at the back entrance mortified. The gift basket she held fell to the floor.
"Bloody hell are you looking at?" He zipped his pants up and turned around. He froze and sobered up by a fraction. "Ginny. It's not what it looks like."
The youngest Weasley drew her wand and pointed it at him. "Get away from her," she enunciated carefully.
"Ginny - "
"I said get away from her before I curse you into oblivion!"
If Ginerva hadn't witnessed his abuse during a surprise visit, Fleur would still be the battered and bruised woman who could not stand up for herself.
She wouldn't be here with her own private practice helping Witches and Wizards of the Ministry if Bill Weasley was still stepping all over her. Thank you, Ginny.
Her mind then drifted back to her dilemma at hand.
Hermione Granger is her mate. Merlin was she fucked.
A/N: It's been a while since I've delved into the HP Universe. So forgive me for any discrepancies with spells and some facts. Also, I don't have anyone looking over this so again, please forgive me.