Chapter Notes: I would just like to say how difficult it is to ping pong back and forth between two stories that are so vastly different in content. I'm constantly thinking things like, "Okay… this character is a pain in the ass so I think I'll have Harrikins mutilate him," only to remember that I can't because I'm updating the sweet Harry story instead of this one.

Some days I feel as if I'm suffering from a Dissociative Identity Disorder, LOL.

Warning: I had originally written "Not a pretty chapter" here, but Nephila told me that I needed a much larger warning for what this installment holds. It's super bad, people. Really graphic violence (blood and gore)… seriously, it makes the death of Vernon Dursley look almost mild by comparison.

Chapter 12 – Goodbye Molly

While Harry Potter was being hauled away by his new sisters to the nearest high-end clothing stores for a day of torture, Bill Weasley was crossing the threshold of his childhood home. "Hello," he called, only to be answered by his father's voice, leading him into the kitchen. Once there he cringed at the state of everything. Arthur was coughing as he pulled a pan of food from the oven that was so burned as to be unrecognizable. The older Weasley shook his head and vanished the mess, pan and all before turning to greet his eldest child.

Bill couldn't believe how much grime had built up since his mother had gotten herself cursed. His eyes widened as they caught sight of the massive pile of dirty dishes sitting in the sink. Globs of what appeared to be mashed potatoes lay where they had fallen onto the countertop ages ago, and there was a light dusting of flour over every surface in the room.

Really, how difficult was it to cast a few scourgify's?

"Bill," Arthur said as he reached over to hug the Curse Breaker, "I'm so glad you finally decided to come home to help your mother."

Biting his tongue to keep from pointing out that it wasn't so much a decision on his part, Bill instead chose to focus on the miserable woman sitting at the end of the table. The woman that occupied what was normally his father's seat at the table had certainly seen better days. Her hair was greasy and matted from improper care, the clothes she was wearing were so stained that he felt they should be burned. Honestly, it appeared as if the woman hasn't bathed or even changed clothes in a fortnight.

Was his father truly that incompetent? If their mother had died when they were young, they most likely would have starved to death if this was any indication.

He shook his head and took out his wand, hoping to end this madness soon so he could get back to the twins' flat. No sooner did he get within arm's reach of the woman who had birthed him than she reached out and slapped him hard across the face.

"Molly," Arthur exclaimed as he reached out to steady his son, who had stumbled from the blow. "Why did you strike Bill?!"

The horrible woman glared heatedly at her son. "Why? Because he's an utter disgrace!" Molly gestured angrily at her once pristine kitchen. "Look around you, Arthur," she said while slapping the back of her neck. "How long have we been living like this while Bill spent his days lazing about in Egypt?"

Standing tall and furious, Bill confronted his mother. "Lazing?! I've been working my ass off, mother… at my job? You know… the one where I get paid a decent amount of galleons for doing what I love? The one that you nearly got me sacked from because you had the gall to approach my employers and ask them to give me time off?!"

"You should have been sacked!" The chair crashed to the floor as Molly Weasley stood furious against Bill. "It would have served you right for turning your back on your family… the family who gave you everything!"

The young redhead chuckled dryly and ran a hand through his long hair. "What are you talking about? Everything you've given me I have more than paid you back for. You gave me an education, only to ridicule me when I chose to use it to follow my dream. You gave me life, but spend an ungodly amount of time harping on about your disappointment in how I choose to live it." Silence rang through the kitchen as mother and son stood glaring daggers at each other.

Finally Molly scoffed and righted the chair before plopping back down, reflexively slapping at the phantom bugs. "You are a disappointment, Bill," she said in a deadened voice. "You always have been. Just do what you came to do and leave. You won't have to worry about me or your father ever seeking you out again for anything."

Jaw clenched in anger, Bill waved his wand in an arch over the spiteful woman before him. As he cast his strongest curse revealing charm, he couldn't help but notice that again his father was silent. Not once did he refute his wife's claims that he was worthless in the eyes of the family. Part of him wanted to chuckle, but he was unwilling to waste even a second more of his time trying to explain to his parents what he found funny about this horrible situation.

When he was done casting the spell his eyes widened. Not only could he see what was cast, Bill could still see the remnants of the caster's magic. Normally this wouldn't mean anything to him, except for the fact that he had seen this magic before. He had watched as it pulled a Firebolt through the air, as well as performed a plethora of other feats. And though he was only mildly acquainted with its owner, Bill had never once forgotten the sheer power of his magic.

William Arthur Weasley smirked as he realized exactly who had cast a dark curse on his mother. Without even trying to put an end to the woman's suffering, he saluted his parents with the tip of his wand and walked out the door, never to return. As he stepped past the wards, Bill apparated away, his mother's angry shrieks echoing through the hated house once more. Fred and George were going to laugh their asses off at this information.

He couldn't wait to see Harry Potter again just so he could shake his hand.


Harry stared wide-eyed at the mountain of clothing the girls insisted he had to have. Even though he had been warned about Alice and Rosalie's excessive tendencies when it came to shopping, he was still vastly unprepared for the actual experience. For hours he had been forced to model a seemingly endless array of trousers, jeans, shoes, shirts, and accessories. The wizard considered himself lucky they didn't break open the packages of underwear to see whether or not the various colors of the boxer-briefs "brought out his eyes."

Needless to say, he was extremely sick of both of the she-demons by the time Alice pronounced their trip a success. Harry glared at the smirking vampires who had opted to remain home while he and his sisters bonded over the latest fashion trends. The only thing that kept him from snapping at them was the tiny sliver of remembered terror in their eyes that bespoke of them having to endure their own horror-filled trips to the shops with the crazy women.

Jasper greeted him with a kiss, causing his mate's depressed mood to lift instantly without even having to use his gift. "How are you feeling?"

Harry leaned up against Jasper's hard body and smiled. "I'm assuming you're referring to the transformation and not the agonizing tortures that Rosalie and Alice have just put me through." He looked up at the smirking blonde. "I'm okay… hardly anything hurts right now. Though I could do with a foot massage," he added, glaring at his sisters. Alice giggled and Rosalie just smirked at him, causing him to sigh. No revenge he had ever even thought of dishing out could equal the trauma he'd experienced today.

"I'm going hunting in a bit. Would you like to join me," Jasper asked with a smirk.

Harry smiled up at his mate. "I would be delighted."

Edward, who had unfortunately caught part of his brothers' fondest memories from Jasper's last hunt, shuddered and clutched at his head in an overly-dramatic fashion. "Ah! It burns! Someone remove these disgusting images from my head!" He shuddered in horror as Jasper and Harry laughed at him.

Carlisle chuckled and placed an arm around Jasper and Harry. "Be careful, boys. And don't forget to travel a good distance before hunting, Jasper."

As the land started to become shrouded in darkness, Jasper pulled Harry onto his back and ran.

The wizard laughed in excitement as the scenery sped by faster than it would have even atop his Firebolt. He clutched Jasper around the neck as hard as he could, knowing that it was impossible to choke the vampire. The honey-blonde curls of his mate brushed his cheek as he tried in vain to see the land before them. Even though his eyesight had improved to the point that he could see fairly well without glasses, they were still moving far too quickly for him to make anything out.

Harry had no idea how much time had passed before Jasper finally stopped, but as soon as his feet hit the ground he felt wobbly. He chuckled as he noticed that, despite the swiftness of their journey, his mate didn't have a hair out of place. He, on the other hand, imagined his own locks were sticking up much more than normal. Jasper's amused gaze as he looked at him was proof of the matter.

The brunette looked around at their surroundings. Though it was the middle of the night, Harry made out a grouping of houses nearby by the light coming from various windows. He could both smell and hear the sea beside them, not to mention the feel of sand beneath his feet. He had a sudden urging to remove his shoes and take a stroll with his love in the faint moonlight, but resisted. They were there for a reason, after all.

Jasper scented the air and pulled his mate by the hand toward the house closest to them. Harry knew to remain silent as the vampire stopped and tilted his head to the side, clearly listening, whilst staring up toward the second floor of the dark brown home before them. Thankfully they were at the darkened rear of the structure, so there was little chance that anyone would catch them trespassing.

When the vampire had been reassured by whatever he had heard, Harry was once again pulled onto his back. Jasper leapt up as soon as his mate was secure, easily able to scale the weathered stone. Once he came to the window he wanted, the blonde paused and carefully looked inside. He gently raised the unlocked window when the coast was deemed clear.

Harry hastily cast a silencing charm when he was set down in a stranger's bedroom. He nodded to let Jasper know they now wouldn't be overheard by anyone outside the room. After a hasty kiss, the vampire cast his eyes at the man who was soon to become his dinner.

Even though Harry knew neither he nor Jasper made a sound as they approached the human, the soon-to-be victim must have sensed something amiss. Dark brown eyes snapped open just as Jasper was reaching over to pull away the heavy comforter concealing his prize. Letting out a yelp of fright, the sixty-something-year-old man leapt from his bed with an agility of which Harry never would have considered a man his age would be capable.

Harry smirked and hastily stepped between him and the door, blocking the exit. The dark-haired stranger quickly looked between the two intruders, sizing them up. Then he released an angry roar and charged at Harry, fully intending to take him out. A second before he would have barreled into the wizard, Jasper had him in a crude embrace with his fangs buried deeply into the man's neck.

As soon as Jasper had drained his victim, he put Harry on his back once again, picked up the corpse, and jumped from the window to the ground below. After running for a little while, the vampire stopped at the top of a tall cliff and threw the human's remains out to sea. Harry climbed down and stepped closer to the edge.

"It's beautiful," Harry whispered as Jasper's arms wrapped around him lovingly. The two stared out into the distance. Though the moonlight was faint, there was enough light to make out the sea from their vantage point. As his remaining senses filled in the blanks, Harry was utterly captivated. "Where are we?"

Jasper reached down to place a kiss on Harry's neck. "Stonehaven… it's about one hundred and fifty miles from the family's house." He gestured to some kind of structure behind them. "I know you can't make it out with your inferior human eyes, but that's Dunnottar Castle behind us."

The wizard turned in the vampire's arms and leveled a playful glare at his smirking mate. "Inferior human eyes? I ought to teach you a lesson for your cheek, Mr. Whitlock!"

Jasper just chuckled and leaned in to capture Harry's lips in a kiss. Once he pulled away he leaned in to whisper, "You could try, but I can easily dodge your inferior human reflexes."

Rolling his eyes, Harry wrapped his arms around his beautiful mate's neck. "Well I greatly look forward to the time I'll be able to experience your superior vampire stamina."

Laughter echoed off of the centuries-old stones surrounding the two lovers.


When dinnertime came around, Ron Weasley poked his head into the kitchen, hoping that everything would finally be back to normal. He had known Bill was supposed to have come today to take the curse off of his mum while he and Ginny spent the day flying in the orchard. His stomach sank unpleasantly when, instead of the tantalizing aroma of his mother's cooking, he encountered the depressing stench of body odor and rotten food.

"Mum," he asked cautiously as he stepped into the kitchen. A slamming door from two stories up signified that Ginny had gone straight to her room from outside. Molly Weasley sat alone in the semi-darkened room, a glint of something in her eye that Ron couldn't name. Something inside his brain warned him to tread carefully around this woman. "Are you okay, mum? Where'd dad go? Did Bill not come?"

He jumped as her piercing gaze moved to him at the last question. Knowing that he now had her attention, the cowardly boy couldn't help but wish she was still staring blankly at the wall. As Ron watched her slap her right cheek, he knew that his brother definitely hadn't been around to set their mother to rights and he couldn't help but wonder what was keeping him. This was getting downright creepy!

With a sudden shriek of insanity, Molly Weasley grabbed a steak knife from the filthy countertop and plunged it into her own leg. Ronald Weasley screamed as his mother began stabbing at various parts of her own body while screeching a litany of furious words. The traumatized young man could only make out "spiders" and "Bill" as she raged. Blood began pouring from her wounds as the self-mutilation frenzy continued.

He had run to the woman once his brain kicked in, trying his damnedest to pull the weapon from her grasp, only to have her turn and thrust the knife into his right shoulder. Ron's throat felt like it was on fire from the ferocity of his horror and pain-filled cries. He slipped in the growing puddle of his mother's blood and landed on his bum, having no choice but to watch the horror continue. Soon Ginny's screams were added to the mix. She had come running when their mother snapped. Ron emptied his stomach when the knife Molly wielded was plunged into her own eye sockets as the woman tried in vain to kill the invisible bugs that had assaulted her constantly for days.

The attack that had seemed to last an eternity came to a sudden end after the knife was buried in his mother's right ear. The mutilated corpse could not defy gravity and so, with a horrid squelching sound, the remains of Molly Weasley née Prewett slipped from the chair to land near her youngest son's left leg. Ronald, voice finally having completely given out, scrambled madly away from the sight of the empty eye sockets staring accusingly at him.


Once Hermione's parents arrived home to find their daughter sobbing and begging to be taken to the wizarding hospital, St. Mungo's, they were aghast. A quick explanation from her told them what was wrong, so the worried parents wasted no time in making the trip. For Hermione Granger to lose her ability to read was perhaps the worst thing that could have ever happened to her. Before she had even learned her letters, their baby girl would lose herself in the wondrous stories her parents would read to her at night. Most children fell asleep in the middle of the bedtime story, but not Hermione. She always stayed awake for the ending.

After checking in with the Welcome Witch, the Grangers were quickly directed into the lift up to the fourth floor for Spell Damage. By this time Hermione had calmed down considerably, certain that the healers here would be able to help her. After all, Madam Pomfrey was only a mediwitch and she had never sent her away empty handed. Though she'd had to wait a while for results both when she was petrified and again when she accidentally gave herself cat features, she'd still been cured in those instances.

Healer Bottlenoose, who had been casting a diagnostic spell on her, hummed in thought when the results came.

"What does it say," the bushy-haired witch asked urgently. Her father placed a calming hand on her shoulder, though he too looked anxious.

The healer looked up at his patient and her parents. "Well there's good news," he said with a smile, causing the family to all relax in relief. "It seems someone has cast a simple translation charm on you."

Hermione scrunched her eyes in confusion. "I've read about that charm… once cast, you're able to read everything in a language of the caster's choosing." She frowned up at the healer. "But I'm not seeing anything but weird meaningless squiggles! It doesn't look to be any written language I've seen before."

Bottlenoose scratched his chin and thought about what his patient was saying. "Well, it has to be an existing language, otherwise the charm never would have worked. The caster must actually speak the incantation in the desired language to show results."

"Well whomever put this on me is going to get hexed severely if I ever catch them!" Hermione glared and crossed her arms in indignation.

"What do you have to do to fix her, Doctor," asked the girl's mother.

It showed how many muggles he'd been exposed to when Healer Bottlenoose didn't correct the woman. He shook his head. "Oh I'm sorry, madam, but I'm afraid I can't do that." The healer continued on when his patient looked to be gearing up to throw a tantrum. "I wish I could, but you would have to discover the language first, as well as someone who speaks it. Once you've done that, that person would have to say the proper incantation to remove it from you… I'll write that down for you."

Hermione's eyes widened in horror. "You can't do anything to help me?! What about a Curse Breaker," she screeched.

The healer frowned in sympathy. "I'm sorry, my dear, but the only way to remove this charm is the way I've outlined." He quickly wrote down the counter charm and bustled out of the room.

The downhearted family gazed at each other despondently, never knowing that only someone who spoke parseltongue would be able to end Hermione's misery.


Thanks so much for reading and reviewing! *hugs you all*