Hermione/Ron/Rose One-Shot
A/N: So, this is a one-shot that came to me in the middle of the night a few days ago. It has quite a bit of angst and a few potentially disturbing torture sequenves, but nothing too gory or descriptive. I loved the idea and decided to go with it. I hope you enjoy Forever and Ever.
Forever and Ever: A Hermione, Ron and Rose Weasley One-Shot
The brown-haired woman gazed down at her young daughter, a soft lining of red hair covering her one year old's head. Her right hand moved unconsciously to her left forearm, her fingers sliding across the raised skin that marked the letters engraved into her skin by one Bellatrix Lestrange.
Unbidden tears slipped from her chestnut brown eyes; temporary reminders of mind-numbing pain and sorrow that had filled her all those years ago.
The small girl lying peacefully in the crib before her shifted slightly, as though sensing the emotional turmoil raging through her mother.
Hermione cast one last look at her child, reassuring herself that the girl was content, was safe, then swept from the room, her dressing gown flowing around her ankles.
She shut the door to the nursery with nary a sound. Her footsteps were light on the stairs as she drifted down to the lounge of the small house that she and her husband shared on the outskirts of Godric's Hollow.
Mind overflowing with memories and torrents of emotions she sunk onto the only couch in the room, a rather old model with wine-colored fabric and walnut-wood trim.
Pale moonlight filled the quiet house, no sounds coming out of the darkness to haunt her tortured mind.
She pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes, kneading her eyelids while trying to keep dark thoughts at bay. This method however, served a purpose opposite its intent. Disjointed images flashed before her closed eyes, appearing all the brighter against the black of her eyelids.
An involuntary whimper sprang to her lips as dark, heavy-lidded eyes and black, wildly-curly hair flashed across her vision; as ghost pain seared through her body, across the scars on her forearm and neck. She clenched her fists, trying to repress a shudder and stop the flow of screams and pleadings that echoed through the years. The unforgivable name, Mudblood, standing out white against her already pale skin.
Blurry images flashed behind her eyes, swimming through the confused mass that was her mind. And suddenly she was back in Malfoy Manor.
"Take these prisoners down to the cellar, Greyback."
Narcissa Malfoy's voice spoke sharply through flashes of deepest gray and steely blue.
"Wait!" the voice of Bellatrix spoke out, pleasure displayed clearly in her tone. "All except... except the Mudblood." Hermione shivered as relish eased into her words, shaking beneath the combined stares of the Malfoy family, Greyback and an eager Bellatrix.
The werewolf's grunt of approval came at the same time as Ron's shout.
"NO!" He all but screamed, his desperation presenting itself in his wide, blue eyes. Hermione winced as his words cut through her like a knife, her gaze resolutely set on her feet and the surrounding floor, unable to meet the passionate blue orbs that belonged to the redhead standing beside her. No, she wouldn't let him stay for her, wouldn't let them take him. Not that she had much of a choice in his or her own fate.
Bellatrix had slapped him, she was sure of it. The unmistakable sound of flesh hitting flesh confirmed it, though she hadn't taken her eyes off the ground. The crazed woman's ragged breathing was the only sound in the house for a few tense seconds.
"If she dies under questioning, I'll take you next. Blood traitor is right next to Mudblood in my book."
The words sent a wave of icy cold fear coursing through her heart and suddenly it was beating far faster than she thought possible, her breaths coming in short gasps as she struggled to regain her composure. Blood rushed by her ears and she only noticed Bellatrix had stopped speaking when she saw a flash of silver and was pulled bodily away from the other prisoners to the middle of the room beneath an intricate crystal chandelier that bounced light all over the room.
She could feel Bellatrix's hot breath on the back of her neck and she flinched as the crazed woman spun her around so she was facing her. Hermione stood tall, summoning her deepest reserves of courage to keep from collapsing on her trembling legs.
Scared brown eyes found cold black as she met the gaze of her tormentor. Hermione tried and failed to repress a shiver of fear while Bellatrix gazed steadily into her face, eyes lit with a sick pleasure.
A soft click, then seconds later the slamming of the cellar door made the younger witch whip her head around in distracted surprise, breaking the connection. She turned back to the elder, realizing her mistake just in time to face the red light that came with the whispered "Crucio".
And pain found her, liquid fire running through her veins in place of blood; an all-encompassing inferno that ravaged her body, causing a high, shrill scream of agony to fly from her lips, echoing across the deathly silent Manor house.
"HERMIONE! HERMIONE!"
The cries tore at her heart as she lay, shaking, the pain over for a brief moment, on the cold floor. Her arm twitched toward the doorway where they had been taken even though the voice had come from below her and short, breathy gasps of air escaped her mouth. No tears fell, but she knew it was only a matter of time. No city could stand forever.
"HERMIONE! HERMIONE!"
The yells of her beloved, so full of pain at her own suffering, caused a single tear to fall, glistening silver as a star, to the floor beneath her body.
A flash of wild, curly black hair caught her attention and she returned her gaze to Bellatrix, who was standing over her, eyes wide and dark red lips pulled into a crazed grimace of anger.
"Where did you get it?" She hissed angrily. "Where did you get the sword? Have you been in my vault?"
"No." Came the tortured whisper, brown eyes begging.
"Crucio!"
The spell came yet again, still soft enough to be indistinguishable through the floorboards, and Hermione was filled with the burning sensation a second time, her agonized screams shaking the walls and ringing through the whole house. Bellatrix began yelling as well, the discord of the screams and shouted aspersions making it impossible to hear or understand anything in the din.
"HERMIONE! HERMIONE!" The tortured cry sounded from beneath their feet. Tears fell freely from her face as the curse ended. Her body trembled and a choked sob escaped her mouth, her already raw throat twinging in discomfort.
"I'm going to ask you again! Where did you get this sword? WHERE?"
Bellatrix's voice was a strange mixture of anger and glee.
"We found it- we found it- PLEASE!"
The last word came out a scream as yet another flash of red light held her captive.
The pain vanished yet again, but Hermione's body shook worse than ever, every muscle trembling and she wonder dully how much longer she could hold out until she ended up like Alice and Frank Longbottom.
"You are lying, filthy Mudblood!" She screeched, fury filling her eyes and words. "And I know it! You have been in my vault at Gringotts! Tell the truth! Tell the truth!"
The self-justifying note in her voice left no room for argument and a fourth jet of red flew and hit the shaking eighteen year old in the chest, causing her to write on the ground; her body twisted and twitched and her lungs screamed for air as her cries reached a new volume.
"HERMIONE!"
"What else did you take? What else have you got? Tell me the truth, or I swear I'll run you through with this knife!"
A flash of silver backed her words and Hermione sobbed brokenly, shaking her head in denial at the accusations.
"What else did you take, what else? ANSWER ME! CRUCIO!"
She screamed it louder than the previous four times and the terrible pain the young girl felt was reflected by it. It felt as if her whole body was ripping in two, as if every fiber of her being was torn from the others and molten lava was poured over the nerve endings.
The pain stopped and suddenly Bellatrix was standing over her, eyes lit with malice. Hermione took ragged breaths, choked sobs escaping every so often and a thick torrent of tears blurred her vision. Her ears rang and she could hear heavy breathing from above her.
"Let's give the ickle Mudblood something to remember us by, shall we?"
Her tone was sickly sweet and dangerous, her leering grin revealing her true intentions.
In the next second she had swooped down on Hermione, pinning her left arm to the floor. Hermione whimpered, trying to pull away, to shake Bellatrix off, but she was too weak, her muscles still shaking from the aftereffects of the curses.
Sharp, stabbing pain jolting through her arm. Droplets of deepest scarlet rolled down her pale and trembling skin. She heard screams, but they were disconnected cries of agony, separate from her mind.
"Hermione! Hermione!" she heard, as if she were an age away. Muted stripes of silver swam before her blurry eyes, not taking in the ministrations of the twisted Death Eater wielding the needle-sharp instrument of torture.
The weight of the woman lifted for a moment and she breathed in a gulp of air tainted with blood. She could hear Fenrir Greyback prowling in the corner, his whines of longing growing louder by the second.
She glanced to her left and saw a single letter oozing blood on her forearm. A jagged 'M', red tears weeping from the two mountains and the three valleys. The pain returned to her, her mind snapping back into action as Bellatrix screamed yet again for answers.
"How did you get into my vault? Did that dirty little goblin in the cellar help you?"
"We only met him tonight!" she sobbed brokenly, "We've never been inside your vault..." A new ray of hope occured to her and she improvised, her voice as strong as she could make it.
"It isn't the real sword! It's a copy, just a copy!"
"A copy?" Bellatrix screeched, and Hermione's heart sunk. "Oh, a likely story!"
"But we can find out easily!" came an excited male voice somewhere to her right. She recogniyed it vaguely, but had trouble connecting the voice to a face. "Draco, fetch the goblin, he can tell us whether the sword is real or not!"
Hermione lay, gasping for air through the pain on the floor as hurried footsteps echoed through the house and down to the cellar. She prayed to any entity there was that the goblin would lie. Surely he had nothing to gain from condemning them?
It felt like years passed as she was given a reprieve from the torture. Her fear had started to diminish, even though she had no idea what they would do, and her breathing had calmed somewhat. Or, at least, as much as one's breathing could calm after being subjected to the Cruciatus several times. Flashes of pain briefly registered, but compared to the agony she had felt only moments ago it felt like she was floating on a cloud.
Her brief fantasy was cut short by marching footsteps, Draco and Griphook coming up from the cellar.
"Crucio!"
And the pain was back in full force, tearing through her body, a never-ending wave of agony cascading over her already broken body. She screamed and screamed and the world went black for a split second before the pain disappeared, leaving her face wet with tears once again and her breath coming in short gasps.
Bellatrix returned to her fuzzy field of vision, her silver knife glinting, a crimson stain on the blade. Hermione's breath caught in her throat. Blood. Her blood. On the weapon wielded by a deranged mass-murderer.
Her forearm erupted in pain. Jolts of agony shot up her arm and through her chest, making her wish it was all over. Her voice broke as she screamed and Bellatrix's maniacal laughter echoed in her ears. She heard a loud crack from beneath her body and suddenly someone was next to her, shaking her shoulders and yelling her name with the same desperation as he had before.
"HERMIONE! HERMIONE!"
She woke up suddenly, hot tears flowing down her face and throat raw in her living room, jerking her head around to look for imaginary attackers; but she only found her husband's cerulean eyes, worried and anxious.
Hermione threw herself into his, burying her head in his warmth as she shook with sobs and his arms pulled her close, rubbing softly down her back, trying to comfort her through her distress. She clung to his arm in a vice-like grip, unable to focus on reality; instead she saw evil black eyes and flashes of red light.
Her sobs slowed to whimpers and she cringed as he slid his hands down her arms, running his fingers over the scar tissue on her forearm.
"I was back." She forced out, hiccupping as she clenched his hands, screwing her eyes shut against ghostly waves of pain running through her body. "And you were yelling. And it hurt. And I – I – "
"Shhhh…." He whispered soothingly, his heart breaking all over again for the woman in front of him. The woman who, all through her life, had seemed strong and untouchable. The woman whom he had seen broken on the floor of Malfoy Manor almost four years previous. The woman he loved with all his heart who would be with him forever. He pulled her into a tight hug, begging her to forget her memories and remember reality. The reality of his strong arms holding her to his chest.
"It'll be alright. It's over now."
Hermione eventually pulled herself together with much coughing and hiccupping. Her body still shook occasionally as her breath hitched, but ultimately she calmed down, finally relaxing into his muscular torso and releasing tremulous breaths that shook her slightly.
"I…" She started, though her voice broke. She tried again.
"I j-just don't know…."
She trailed off, eyes distant and glistening with more unshed tears.
"Don't know what, 'Mione?" His voice was soft, a gentle caress. She sighed heavily and leaned into him once more, closing her eyes as a wave of exhaustion swept over her. He tucked her head under his chin, rubbing her silky curls lovingly, waiting for her to speak.
It was minutes – or maybe just seconds – later that she finally spoke. But it was a question, not an answer that came from her mouth.
"Do you think we can save Rosie from all of this?"
Her chocolate brown eyes implored his understanding and judgment. He didn't need to ask what she meant, and met her gaze with a sorrowful expression.
"I don't think so, Love."
Seeing her face fall he amended his statement.
" 'Mione, the war is just as much a part of us as a Quaffle is part of a Quidditch game."
She gave a watery chuckle at his attempt at humor, then her eyes became stony again.
"I just don't want her to suffer like this- to be broken and see the terrible things we've seen. How could we possibly save her from the evil in this world?"
Her eyes looked past the realm of the visible world, as though she was looking into the future, seeing the bittersweet fantasies of her little flower growing up.
"We can't protect her forever, Love." He sighed, eyes fixed in the same dimension as hers.
"Why not?" She pouted, suddenly sounding like a pouting child. It was his turn to chuckle, mouth curving into a grin as he hugged her close again, planting a kiss on the top of her head.
"That's just the way it works. But trust me, if it was an option we would do it, alright?"
She seemed to be satisfied with that answer.
"You'll protect her, right?" She asked suddenly, eyes wide and scared. "And keep her safe and not let her-"
"Whoa." He soothed, interrupting her monologue. "You'll be there too. And I'll protect both of my girls forever and ever, to the ends of the earth."
She sat contemplating his words, then yawned and sank down on his chest, eyes drifting shut.
"Forever and ever." She repeated as she fell asleep, a small smile on her face.
Ron smiled down at his lovely wife and shifted slightly so he could lift her up carefully. It was times such as this when he was supremely thankful for the physical part of his Auror training. One thing he most definitely did not want to do was drop his wife while climbing the stairs.
As he laid her in the bed, he sat next to her and brushed a curl behind her ear, taking in her beautiful face; her pale pink lips and dark lashes. Pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead, he stood up carefully and went to check on his daughter. The young girl's red hair was short, but already gaining the bushiness that was a trademark of Granger children. Blowing her an imaginary kiss, he repeated his promise out loud once again.
"I will protect you forever and ever. To the ends of the earth. As long as I live."
He left the darkened nursery and climbed into bed with his wife, a strong talisman of love beating strong and golden in his chest.
And both of his girls smiled in their sleep.
~fin~