A/N: I don't own Harry Potter or any related characters
This is for the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Assignment #6 Men's History Task #4: Elton John - Write about a recovering addict.
Word Count: 2170
Warning: mentions of rape and murder
There was a slight breeze as Hermione narrowed her brown eyes through the scope. The target was nearly in sight. In the back of her mind she wished she hadn't accepted this job. She couldn't afford to be picky though. This was going to be one of her last jobs. Not the last, no she was saving that one for someone personal.
Right now, all she was doing was creating a shadow of a doubt should she need one. All the kills, the hits, none of them could be connected back to her. That was point, it would look like his death was just the last in long line of random killings. She curled her finger around the trigger and took a deep breath.
"You don't have to do this, you know."
She ignored him. She'd known he would show up, that he'd try to stop her. He didn't know everything, he wasn't supposed to know everything. Their relationship was a work one, a professional one.
"I do," she whispered, pulling the trigger. The air filled with screams. Hermione tucked the gun away, breaking it down quickly like a well oiled machine. It was stashed before anyone figured out exactly what had happened. Hermione rose to her feet. Severus was still leaning against the doorway smoking. Hermione grabbed the cigarette from his lips and smashed it with the heel of her black leather boot.
"What was that for?"
"Those things will kill you," she replied, slinging her back across her shoulder. "Come on. I'm not even sure why you're here."
"Because you are, because I was hoping to stop you, Hermione."
"Why? We parted ways, Severus. Remember Vegas?"
"That was a mistake."
"Like hell it was! You were supposed to have my back! Maybe if you had..." Hermione shook her head, pushing past him and slipping out into the hallway.
"If I had what?"
"It doesn't matter now."
"If you're denying it matters, then it matters. What aren't you telling me?" Severus asked, matching her step for step as they stepped out onto the busy street. People were still running, still scrambling. Hermione joined the crowd, looking like just another passerby. She was good at blending in, something she'd always been thankful for.
"Remember Ron?" she finally asked as they ended up getting away from the crowd, ending up in a small park.
"Your ex? What about him?"
"He was in Vegas that night," Hermione answered. "My van's over there, I should be going," she added, grabbing the trunk handle and carefully putting the bag inside.
"What did he do?"
"What does it matter, Severus? You were supposed to be back at the hotel at eight. You weren't. I don't even know where you disappeared to."
"I had business, what does this have to do with you suddenly becoming some kind of gun for hire?"
"Because, Ron's death has to look like something it's not," Hermione replied before climbing into the driver's seat and slamming the door in Severus' face.
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The backdoor of Hermione's rented house swung open. She stepped outside, carrying a large black trash bag in her right hand. She paused, her eyes glancing around.
"I know you're here," she stated. "Come out."
Severus stepped out of the shadows. She snorted.
"What? You followed me home now?" she asked.
"I had to, you wouldn't talk to me," Severus stated, meeting Hermione's eyes. "Now are you going to tell me what's really going on?"
"Fine, but not here," Hermione answered, walking past Severus and dropping the trash bag in the bin. "Inside," she added, leading him inside the house. He closed the door behind himself and looked around. The house was small, with faded lemon yellow wallpaper and out of date furniture. Hermione sat in one of the wooden dining room chairs. She motioned for Severus to take the other. For a moment, she just kind of sighed, looking as if she was debating what to tell him.
"I'll know if you're lying," he commented. She glared at him.
"Fine, you want the truth? Here it is, when we were in Vegas for the conference, you remember that."
"I do. I went out afterwards, you went back to the hotel. I was supposed to follow you. I didn't. When I got back, you were asleep. We left the next morning, with you not talking to me. Once we arrived home, you left."
"I told you I saw Ron there, he was gambling as usual. He saw my name on the poster, about the conference. He managed to figure out where we were staying. He came to my room. I let him in, Severus. I figured, you know, what was the worst that could happen?"
"What happened, Hermione. Did you and he...reconcile?"
"No!" Hermione slapped her hand against the table, her entire body trembling. "No, no we did not. We started talking about old times, about when we were in school, you know, like old friends. Only, then things got...things went bad. Ron said we should order some drinks from room service. I was having fun hanging out with him again. I agreed. I was an idiot, Severus."
"You were nothing of the sort, Hermione. You've always been smart, you had a moment of weakness."
"Sure, let's call it that. The drinks came and..." Hermione paused, tears sparkling in her brown eyes. Severus reached across the table and wiped them away. Hermione started to reach up, as if to take his hand in hers, but she just lowered it again.
"What did he do?" Severus asked, his voice a low growl.
"I woke up a few hours later, naked. My clothes were ripped, I was sore. There were bruises on my legs, my wrists. I must have fought, it was apparently in vain though. Ron was gone."
"He raped you," Severus whispered. Hermione only nodded, tears falling freely from her eyes now.
"Now, you see why I have to end him? I mean, there's no proof, my word against his. He'll say I agreed, and part of me, a small part, wonders if I did, I mean...we were lovers before. Did I agree? Did I say 'yes' in a moment of weakness?"
"It sounds like you were drugged. You should have gone to the hospital."
"I thought about it, but...I...I don't know, I was so scared and ashamed, and..." Hermione looked at Severus, her body trembling. Slowly he reached across the table and put his hand on hers. Her eyes met his.
"I'm sorry, I... wanted to tell you, but... if you'd been there, maybe...I don't know. I blamed you, I blamed myself. I still blame myself."
"It is not your fault, Hermione, my Hermione."
"That's not all. After a few weeks, I started feeling sick. I blamed stress, the whole thing had just left me sick just thinking about it. It wasn't stress," she whispered, tearing her eyes from Severus and looking down at the dingy linoleum floor. Severus stared at her, blinking as if he'd just been smacked.
"How...how far..."
"Two months, almost three. The timeline matches up."
"Are you certain that I'm not-"
"No, I'm not certain, but does it really matter? If this baby is born with red hair, you'll know they're not yours. The child will be a constant reminder of what happened, of what he did to me. I know how you are, how possessive you can get. I didn't think you'd want... that you'd want me after what he did. I know I hate myself enough for the both of us."
Severus jumped to his feet, knocking over the chair in the process. Within seconds, he was standing before Hermione, her hand in his.
"I could never hate you, Hermione. Never! I can see why now why you've been doing what you've been doing."
"I can't kill him outright, and these other murders, they're not good people. They've done to other girls what Ron's done to me. The police haven't done anything to help their victims, so... at least now, they have closure, at least now they're not afraid to walk home, to turn out the lights in their flats. I joined a support group, that's where I got the names. I mean, I had to put the pieces together a bit, but you know me."
"Brilliant and determined if something stands in your way. How many?"
"Three that were gifts, two I was paid for. Babies cost money, this place costs money. That was my last job before I finally end this thing."
"Don't. I know you feel like there's no alternative, but Hermione, please, if you kill him..."
"I'm already a murderer, I'm already damaged goods. At least this way, I'm redeeming myself, making something of myself. I'm doing the world a favor."
"Let me do this for you, Hermione. Let me, please. It's my fault I left you alone that night. I..I fell of the wagon. I hadn't had a drink in three months. I'd been doing well with my program, but that night...I failed you, Hermione."
"You were drinking again. You should have told me where you were going,I could have talked you out of it. Or gone with you," she whispered, looking up at him slowly. He wrapped his arms around her.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered, kissing her hair.
"I forgive you," she replied, her voice trembling.
"I thought I'd lost you after that night. I haven't had another drink since, I know you leaving should have sent me back to rock bottom, I should have spiraled. It was drinking that lost you, I never wanted to lose you again, if I managed to win you back."
"And now, now that you know everything?" she asked.
"I still love you, Hermione. I will raise this child as my own, if you'd have me?"
Hermione looked at him and nodded slowly.
"I..I do miss you, I miss you so much, Severus. It's going to take some time to get back to where we were, but I'm willing to try."
"As am I. Now, there's only the matter of Ron Weasley."
"I'm planning to take care of him next Tuesday, after my doctor appointment."
"Don't. I know you want vengence, I know you want to take his life from him, but if you do... he's the one that could be traced back to you, the one that is connected to you."
"And what do you suggest, that I let him live? You wouldn't happen to know someone who'd be willing to kill for me?"
"I do not, but I do know someone who would kill for me. Please, let me do this for you, Hermione, let me fix this?" he nearly begged.
"Alright," she finally agreed. "Alright, call you person, but I demand proof. I deserve that much. Oh, and tell whoever it is, that they need to use my piece, I want these murders connected."
"I will, he'll take care of Ron, and probably a few more with the piece, making sure there's nothing to tie you to any of it. He's good, Hermione."
"I believe you, Severus. So, um, want to stay for dinner? I'm making spaghetti?"
"I wouldn't miss it for the world. Let me go and make that call while you cook?"
Hermione nodded, giving him another hug and a tight smile.
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Like the murders before it, Ron's demise graced the news the next day. The killer had used the same MO as the other murders. Hermione watched the screen with fascination.
"It's over, it's finally over," she whispered, looking at Severus. She had moved from her little house to his slightly larger one.
"It is, my Hermione, it truly is. He'll never hurt you again. How did your doctor appointment go?"
"It went fine, the baby is fine, healthy it seems. It's too soon to tell if they're going to be a boy or girl, but it doesn't matter."
"No, it does not. My friend has a list of names, from a source similar to where you got yours. He's decided to become a bit of an avenging angel."
Hermione laughed.
"That means Ron won't be the last?"
"It does, now no one will know he was the target."
"Thank you," Hermione whispered, laying her head against Severus' shoulder. "I should have come to you sooner, told you sooner."
"You were lost, afraid, confused. I wish I had been there for you," he replied, changing the channel away from the news program. The opening credits to a sitcom both he and Hermione enjoyed started playing. "But I'm here for both of you now," he added, putting a hand on Hermione's abdomen, on the slight swell. She smiled as the baby kicked causing Severus to smile.
"I'm glad, and I hope you'll feel the same no matter what the baby looks like."
Severus kissed her forehead.
"I already love the child, nothing is going to change that," he promised holding her tightly as they watched the telly together, curled in each others arms.