Title: She's A Vamp
Rating: R for language and MAYBE sexual situations.
Genre: Romance
Author's Notes: This starts out a bit sad. Oh... and I don't own Harry & Co., I own the plot and new character(s).
* * *
Hermione flicked back her hair and scribbled a line on the lined parchment. She let out a loud teenage growl and erased it fiercely, then rewrote the same exact sentence with a satisfied smile. While writing the next line, she got frustrated midway and chucked the pencil across the room and screamed. "Ugh! I'm not ever going to make that god damned deadline."
"Why not?" Came an amused voice from behind her. Her boyfriend, Harry Potter, was in the doorway, leaning on the door frame with a grin on his face. Hermione on writing her book she had been meaning to write ever since witnessing... that night... and she couldn't find the words to put anything. "You're a great writer, you just lack the ability to be satisfied with anything."
"Ha ha, ho ho." Hermione said with an arched eyebrow. "Tuck in your shirt, it just came back from the cleaners."
"My point is made," Harry said, his grin a bit bigger.
As she walked out the door, leaving her unfinished work on the bed, she kissed Harry's cheek and told him, "I'll be right back." Hermione saw that Harry's eyes were on the paper that littered the bed, and she added, "Read it and your glasses will end up in the toilet again."
"That was you?" Harry asked in surprise, and only getting laughter back. He shook his head as her footsteps echoed down the stairs from her Hogwarts dorm room. He waited about 30 seconds, checked to see that no one was looking, and walked to the pile of papers. He grabbed a random page, one that continued from another one, and read out loud to himself:
"...of course it was dark in the dreaded prison. I knew why people dreaded it, but I didn't understand until I crumbled under the horrible sense of emotion that flooded my body when the dementors came and grabbed us. Ron was screaming, "No! No! No!" and I was too overwhelmed to speak. The dementors were taking us to a secret underground place where the Dark Lord was..." He voice broke. Harry never knew what happened to his friends during that time, when he was in the middle of a duel with Voldemort. Until now.
He continued, "When we got there, the horrible hoods threw us to the ground. Ron wasn't moving and a small pool of blood was dripping from his wrists. I didn't know the dementors held onto him that tightly. I looked up and saw Him for the first time. His skin was white, his eyes were blood red and he wore black robes that showed what color his heart was." Harry swallowed, because he knew what was coming next. "Then I saw Harry getting hit with a green ray of light straight in the chest. I heard his scream and then... I can't remember the rest. I blacked out."
This sentence finished the page. Harry swallowed again. He didn't know... He didn't know...
"Harry?"
Harry looked up into Hermione's brown eyes, his burning with fear and guilt.
"I told you not to read it!" Hermione yelled, looking from Harry's disturbed face to the paper in his hand. "I knew you wouldn't react well. I knew you would feel horrible."
"This was my fault." Harry said weakly. "I gave you these memories. These thoughts."
"It wasn't your fault." Hermione whispered, and walked up to Harry and giving him a hug. She said into his shoulder, "It's Voldemort's fault, not yours. It was never yours."
"No..." Harry began, but Hermione cut him off.
"Yes." She told him firmly. She was about to cry.
"Ron must be traumatized!" Harry said with a shaky sigh. He swallowed again, "He's not good with this sort of situations..."
"Who is, Harry?" Hermione reasoned, urgency in her voice, like she had to make sure Harry didn't cry. "No one, not even you. I know we were kept in different rooms in St. Mungo's, but I'm sure you've had your share of the tormented memories replaying..."
Harry sobbed.
"No, Harry, dont!" Hermione kissed his cheek. "Please..."
Harry kissed her cheek back, and one of his tears transferred to it and it fell onto her neck. She watched Harry wipe his eyes and walk slowly out the door, silent tears falling from his 17-year-old face.
"What have I done?" Hermione whispered to herself. "Shit."
((A/N- R/R please! The nnext chappy *might* be uploaded... um... Sunday? Next: Hermione and Harry have a chat with Ron and they are healed. No, they don't do yoga.))
Rating: R for language and MAYBE sexual situations.
Genre: Romance
Author's Notes: This starts out a bit sad. Oh... and I don't own Harry & Co., I own the plot and new character(s).
* * *
Hermione flicked back her hair and scribbled a line on the lined parchment. She let out a loud teenage growl and erased it fiercely, then rewrote the same exact sentence with a satisfied smile. While writing the next line, she got frustrated midway and chucked the pencil across the room and screamed. "Ugh! I'm not ever going to make that god damned deadline."
"Why not?" Came an amused voice from behind her. Her boyfriend, Harry Potter, was in the doorway, leaning on the door frame with a grin on his face. Hermione on writing her book she had been meaning to write ever since witnessing... that night... and she couldn't find the words to put anything. "You're a great writer, you just lack the ability to be satisfied with anything."
"Ha ha, ho ho." Hermione said with an arched eyebrow. "Tuck in your shirt, it just came back from the cleaners."
"My point is made," Harry said, his grin a bit bigger.
As she walked out the door, leaving her unfinished work on the bed, she kissed Harry's cheek and told him, "I'll be right back." Hermione saw that Harry's eyes were on the paper that littered the bed, and she added, "Read it and your glasses will end up in the toilet again."
"That was you?" Harry asked in surprise, and only getting laughter back. He shook his head as her footsteps echoed down the stairs from her Hogwarts dorm room. He waited about 30 seconds, checked to see that no one was looking, and walked to the pile of papers. He grabbed a random page, one that continued from another one, and read out loud to himself:
"...of course it was dark in the dreaded prison. I knew why people dreaded it, but I didn't understand until I crumbled under the horrible sense of emotion that flooded my body when the dementors came and grabbed us. Ron was screaming, "No! No! No!" and I was too overwhelmed to speak. The dementors were taking us to a secret underground place where the Dark Lord was..." He voice broke. Harry never knew what happened to his friends during that time, when he was in the middle of a duel with Voldemort. Until now.
He continued, "When we got there, the horrible hoods threw us to the ground. Ron wasn't moving and a small pool of blood was dripping from his wrists. I didn't know the dementors held onto him that tightly. I looked up and saw Him for the first time. His skin was white, his eyes were blood red and he wore black robes that showed what color his heart was." Harry swallowed, because he knew what was coming next. "Then I saw Harry getting hit with a green ray of light straight in the chest. I heard his scream and then... I can't remember the rest. I blacked out."
This sentence finished the page. Harry swallowed again. He didn't know... He didn't know...
"Harry?"
Harry looked up into Hermione's brown eyes, his burning with fear and guilt.
"I told you not to read it!" Hermione yelled, looking from Harry's disturbed face to the paper in his hand. "I knew you wouldn't react well. I knew you would feel horrible."
"This was my fault." Harry said weakly. "I gave you these memories. These thoughts."
"It wasn't your fault." Hermione whispered, and walked up to Harry and giving him a hug. She said into his shoulder, "It's Voldemort's fault, not yours. It was never yours."
"No..." Harry began, but Hermione cut him off.
"Yes." She told him firmly. She was about to cry.
"Ron must be traumatized!" Harry said with a shaky sigh. He swallowed again, "He's not good with this sort of situations..."
"Who is, Harry?" Hermione reasoned, urgency in her voice, like she had to make sure Harry didn't cry. "No one, not even you. I know we were kept in different rooms in St. Mungo's, but I'm sure you've had your share of the tormented memories replaying..."
Harry sobbed.
"No, Harry, dont!" Hermione kissed his cheek. "Please..."
Harry kissed her cheek back, and one of his tears transferred to it and it fell onto her neck. She watched Harry wipe his eyes and walk slowly out the door, silent tears falling from his 17-year-old face.
"What have I done?" Hermione whispered to herself. "Shit."
((A/N- R/R please! The nnext chappy *might* be uploaded... um... Sunday? Next: Hermione and Harry have a chat with Ron and they are healed. No, they don't do yoga.))