Author: DustFactory
Disclaimer: Not mine
Summary: The Dark Lord has turned Harry into a monster, bent on using him to destroy the Wizarding World. However, he underestimates Harry's strength and will power. When Harry returns, he is violently rejected for what he has become; finding solace only in the arms of the enemy. Veela, Incubi, blood, romance and more.
Rating: R
Thanks to my reviewers QueenB23, DestinyEntwinements, Freak in Corner, anneth10, and mis-HD!
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I need a vote! Until I have at least 10 votes I will not be putting out the next chapter! It's up to you guys! Do you think this should be a Severitus or Not? (I kind of want to bring Snape back in, I miss him, pouts He'll probably show up eventually some how, though as Harry's father or not is YOUR CHOICE!)
thirteen
"She allowed them back into the castle! Can you believe that?" Ron was absolutely livid back in the Gryffindor common room.
"And did you see how Potter's changed? You could feel his dirty entrancing vibrations from across the hall!" Dean said, huddled on the edge of his seat next to the fire.
"And Malfoy!" There was an uproar at this.
"How could McGonagall even allow him back in! He helped murder Dumbledore! And now look what You-Know-Who has done to him! He is a dangerous magical animal, this is a school for magical people!" Hermione sat quietly, pretending to read. Her head began to throb. I don't know how much more of this I can take; I need to talk to Harry.
Hermione stood and mumbled her excuses to the well riled crowd. She didn't think they had noticed, and was almost to the portrait, when she heard Ron behind her.
"Where are you going Hermione? It's ten at night, you can't leave."
"I- I-" She stared at the red head with wide eyes. She had never been good at lying, and he knew it.
"You aren't going to see Potter," He spat, "are you?"
"Of- Of course not!" Her voice cracked, and squeaked. "I- I just forgot something in the library." Ron looked at her suspiciously.
"Something that can't wait until tomorrow? It's after curfew, Hermione." Suddenly Hermione was afraid. All of Gryffindor was looking at her, waiting expectantly for her answer, with varying looks of disgust, hatred, and curiosity. It was obvious they didn't believe her. Ron moved forward and she backed up, pressing her body against the portrait. "Hermione... We can't allow you to leave. We don't want you to get caught by Filch. After all, we look after our own." Hermione starred fearfully up a good foot and a half into his aquamarine eyes that were darkened with an ugly anger, and sparked with burning fanaticism.
"Look after our own!" Hermione shrieked, her sudden anger at the hypocritical statement over coming her fear. "Harry is our own. Are you looking after him?" Ron reached forward and grasped her upper arm.
"'Mione, come on. Harry gave into the Darkness. He's You-Know-Who's whore now, and a danger to all of us." His tone changed suddenly. "You don't want to be associated with that kind of filth do you, Hermione?" His hand tightened on her arm painfully.
"Let me go, Ron." She said quietly.
"You didn't answer my question." His grip tightened even further, and she whimpered.
"Let me go! You're hurting me!" She cried. He was still shouting at her, and he wasn't listening. She could feel her arm going numb. She snuck a hand into one of her pockets, trying to be as discreet as possible. She slipped it up into her sleeve, and with one deft movement, brought her other arm up and pressed her wand under Ron's throat. He stopped mid rant and the entire room went silent.
"Let. Me. Go." She said, her voice deadly quiet. He swallowed, his adams apple bobbing. His grip loosened slightly, but he didn't completely let up. "Exuroustum." Hermione whispered, and he jumped back, screeching in pain. An angry blister formed where her wand had touched his throat. He lunged at her and she pushed open the portrait, falling flat on her face as he caught a hold of the bottom of her robes. Her head exploded in pain and black spots danced in her vision. She barley registered her wand skittering down the hall.
She kicked out with all of her might, and felt her foot connect with a solid crack. Ron fell back with a cry, and she managed to crawl away, finding her wand just a few feet away and forcing herself up against the wall. She could hear his cries down the hall, calling her names and insulting her, but she tuned him out in favor of fighting down the sudden nausea that threatened to overwhelm her. She stumbled down a few corridors, and didn't hear any sign of pursuit, so she collapsed in a small alcove.
Tears tumbled down her cheeks, and her head throbbed painfully. Her vision spun, and she sat there with her head between her knees, trying to regain any sort of composure. She couldn't stay here, and she knew it.
Harry... I need to find Harry.
She stumbled back to her feet and carefully eased herself down the hall.
The temperature drop with each flight of stairs, and this was her only indication that she was getting anywhere. How she made it with nausea and black spots trying to overwhelm her, she would never know. Finally she reached the blank stone wall with the faint inlay of a snake over one brick. Now that she had reached this spot, she realized she had absolutely no idea how to get in. Stupid, stupid, stupid, her brain chanted. She looked around nervously, her vision spun, and the shadows suddenly looked a lot more ominous that they had three seconds ago. Should I just bang on the wall, and ask for Harry? What else could she do?
So she began pounding, but ended up not doing much more than scraping her hands on the rough stone wall. She pounded and kicked, wondering if they could even hear her. She could feel an edge of hysteria creeping into her thoughts. She slid down against the wall, and sobbed. The cold crept into her bum, and her head throbbed. What am I going to do? She collapsed down onto the ground and the cool stones felt good on her throbbing head. Just a few seconds... Her eyes closed, and her pain addled mind forgot how dangerous it was for someone with a concussion to sleep, especially in a freezing stone corrode.
"And Weasley chucked that meat pie at the back of Harry's head, and I just went nuts."
"Wow, you really are a veela." Pansy starred at him appraisingly. She had managed to drape herself across both Blaise and Guine's laps. "Do you know how many cosmetic potions out there require veela hair, and how hard they are to get?" He could already see the thoughts cranking through her head.
"Oh, no. Not my hair." He backed up farther into Harry's embrace. "No! Back off or I'll singe off all of yours!" He held his own hand out in front of him, and it began to glow with the tell tale veela flame.
"Oh come on! Pleeeease Draco, darling? Just a couple, or twenty..." She pouted. "I'll share!"
"I'm a veela! I don't need any cosmetic potions, you filth human!" Guine giggled, and Pansy continued to give him doe eyes.
"You know what I really want?" Harry interrupted. They turned to look at the black haired boy. "Hot chocolate."
"Mmmmm, that does sound tasty, but where in the world would we get that at, oh," Blaise glanced down at his watch, "eleven at night?"
"I know where the kitchens are." Harry said, a sly smile slipping onto his face.
"You what!" Draco squeaked. "How in the world did you find that out?"
"Long story, I'll tell you on the way! Merlin, it's freezing down here!" Harry cried as his feet touched the bare stone floor. He quickly slipped into his shoes and waited for Draco to do the same. He yanked his trunk open and tugged out his invisibility cloak, tucking it inside of his real one before anyone else could see it.
They all headed back to the common room, and Harry dragged Draco towards the entrance.
"We'll be right back." And the wall opened. They went to leave and Harry's foot hit something soft.
"What the-" Harry bent down, and rolled over what his foot had hit. A wave of brown frizzy curls spread across his foot. "Hermione!" Black and purple bruises mottled the side of her cold, dirt, tear streaked face. Her robes were torn, her hands were bloody. Harry lifted her thin frame up in his arms and carried her to a couch.
They crowded around the couch, and Harry brushed curls matted with blood off her forehead. Her breathing was shallow and erratic. "Oh 'Mione, what have they done to you?"
"Move out of the way," Pansy said, settling next to Harry. "My mum's a healer, and I've been studying under her since I was little." Harry glanced at her in surprise. That wasn't something he had expected. "Let me just..."
She laid her hands on Hermione's forehead and above her heart. Her eyes were closed, and her forehead wrinkled in concentration. A purple-blue glow emanated from her fingers, pulsing and seeming to sink into the girl's skin. Harry gasped.
Draco pressed a hand against his mouth, shaking his head minutely. He didn't look surprised at her use of wandless magic, so he had probably seen this display before.
The bruises on her face faded to a mottled yellow green, and her breathing evened out. Her skin tone warmed from the sickly gray to a healthy pink. Her eyes flickered open and Pansy collapsed backward. Blaise caught her and wrapped her in strong arms. She was pale and sweaty, but she would be fine.
Hermione sat up, and touched the side of her face, her eyes widening as she probed the bruise, realizing that it didn't hurt as bad as it probably should. Her face was still dirty and tear streaked, and her hair matted with blood, but at least she was okay.
Her eyes scanned the crowd, and landed on Harry. She threw herself at them, and began sobbing into his robes. He buried his face in her hair, not caring how dirty it was. "Oh, 'Mione, what did they do to you? What happened?"
"T- Theff cone c- c- crasy," She sobbed into his robes, her voice muffled by his robes, and her nose clogged and probably still partially damaged by whatever had happened to her. Her sobbing increased, to the point at which her voice was no longer understandable.
"Shhhh, I'm here, it's okay 'Mione." Draco was looking at her with an unreadable look. Guine looked like she wanted to cry herself.
"How could they! How dare they!" Guinevere shouted. Draco turned to look at her.
"Calm down, Guine. They'll get what's coming to them in due time. Don't go raging about like a Gryffindor." Her mouth gaped like a fish, and she starred at him. Pansy and Blaise were now looking at them curiously, wondering why Draco's sister that had never even met Granger, or any of Gryffindor was getting so worked up.
Hermione's sobs slowed within a few minutes, and she sat up and scrubbed her face with her robes. There is to much sorrow down here.Harry thought of all the sobbing that had been going on. He had yet to break down, as it had yet to sink in. It probably had a lot to do with the fact that he had Draco too, and that he hadn't had to go around feeding off of random innocent victims.
But you use to, don't you remember? His thoughts whispered. You probably fed off of Guine when she was still Ginny a good few times, along with Seamus. Harry crushed the thoughts. He could mull over them later, but he had to be strong for Hermione now.
"How 'bout we get you cleaned up, dear?" Pansy said warmly, if maybe a bit exhausted. Hermione sniffed and stared at her in shock. Parkinson had always had it out for her, and the Gryffindor wondered why she was suddenly being so nice.
Pansy gave her a rueful smile, noticing her disbelief "The enemy of my enemy is my friend." She said quietly. "And anyway, we're probably stuck with you now, seeing as your Harry's friend and you can't very well go back and sleep in your own dorm tonight. We might as well get along." Pansy's gaze became suddenly appraising. "In fact," She stood slowly, obviously feeling better. "You look just my size. You can borrow some of my pajamas." She put her hand out, and Hermione grasped it. She tugged the girl to her feet and dragged her off towards her dorm.
Guine got up and followed, giving each Draco and Harry a peck on the cheek goodnight. Blaise glanced at them and smiled, before heading off to his own dorm.
"How about that hot chocolate you promised me?" Draco asked, poking Harry in the ribs.
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