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Settings, stories, characters are all cannon, set in an AU, from a different POV!

Disclaimer: It all belongs to J K Rowling, apart from the obvious changes


Chapter Thirteen: Midnight's Kiss

"Luna. You freak me out. Seriously." Ron stated flatly, refusing to even look at her ephemeral figure anymore, instead focusing his intent gaze heavily upon Hermione who was stood with Kevin a few feet away, smiling as he spoke softly to her in words that could not be heard.

"Bit harsh don't you think mate?" Said Harry pitifully as Carla chucked, both sat next to him as they all leaned heavily against a large tree upon the outskirts of a clearing hiding just within the reaches of the Forbidden Forest. It was a feverishly warm day, and as he had been dismissed early from Potions, both Ron and Harry had taken it upon themselves to find a leisurely retreat, in which to hide themselves away and make light plans for their next DA meeting. However, they had suddenly found themselves in the company of Luna and her slave, who had hurriedly rushed forwards to embrace the girls who had accompanied them, much to Ron's obvious distaste. A shriek from Harry had aroused the current argument in which he had become further disgruntled after being told that he was surrounded by 'invisible' creatures.

"Do you remember me telling you that I could see them too Harry?" Luna called over, seemingly holding a large piece of raw meat for no reason, which suddenly disappeared from his sight, making his stomach turn a little.

"What...what are they?" Harry asked, a little sceptical, "I've only been able to see them since the start of this year."

"They're called Thestrals. They're quite gentle, really... But people avoid them because they're a bit..." She replied, not even looking towards him, seemingly unable to finish her sentence.

"Different? But why can't the others see them?" He asked, looking over to Ron who huffed at an oblivious Hermione who he could see was casually holding hands with Kevin.

"They can only be seen by people who've seen death." Carla said suddenly, staring over towards the animals silently, "But they're very rare." One of the closest of the group of the particular breed of winged horse stared back at them, its skeletal body shuffling around slightly, fluttering its wide and wingless leathery bat like wings, its reptilian features staring back at them trough white, glittering eyes which lacked both expression and pupils, giving it a somewhat grim, gaunt and ghostly appearance. Harry felt a twang of pain and guilt as he watched Carla's head drop a little, seemingly suppressing a lost memory to the depths of a hidden and dormant past. "Papi, my grandfather, he fell, broke his neck...A long time ago though, all in the past. At least these creatures are an upside to that burden."

"My mum died." Added Luna, smiles never leaving her face, "She was quite an extraordinary witch, but she did like to experiment...and one day, one of her spells went badly wrong. I was nine." Carla looked up and over towards her, almost glad that another had shared her pain and still managed to keep a loving smile upon her face, to know that there was good to come from any kinds of bad,

"Memories. Our greatest gift, Mistress Luna?"

"Our gifts are always left to us by those whom we love the most." Luna span around a little, skipping over to them and picking up a large slab of raw meat from within her bag that she had collected from the leftovers of previous dinners, procured from Kevin in the kitchens. Walking to a small foal she held it up high so that it had to flap its tiny wings, raising it from the ground slightly so that it could snap up the offered food whilst she gently petted its mane. "At least there is always new life to take the place of the old."

~x~x~x~

"It's okay, I promise you." Kevin smiled at her, slipping an arm around her waist and pulling her in towards him a little. "They're right in front of you. Can't miss them!" Hermione looked up to him, frowning a little,

"Well I obviously can idiot." He laughed at her, earning a smile in return.

"Here," He took her hand in his free one, pulling her forwards a little and towards the Thestral, its long black mane and rather large tail flicking backwards and forwards and its sharp fangs poked through its dragon like lips, a black tongue slipping through occasionally, seemingly trying to lick the two of them, unbeknown to Hermione, whose face was slightly contorted with fear and suspicion. "They're fine, honestly." Placing both of their hands upon the animal so that Hermione would feel its smooth and slippery fur beneath her outstretched palms, its bones poking through slightly, making her feel slightly better about being near an animal that she could not observe herself. "See?" She smiled, warming his heart a little more,

"They're not so bad I guess. What's it doing?" Stroking the animal lightly, she closed her eyes, trying to imagine such a creature before her, feeling as though a new world had suddenly opened to her, despite it slipping from her sights, almost cruelly snatched away, but leaving her in a content state, happy that she had at least been graced once by such a majestic creature.

"Just flicking its tail at the moment, why, did you expect more?" He looked a little worriedly at her, despite her firmly closed lids, hoping that his voice would reach her fully instead.

"They're beautiful." The two of them stood a few moments, silence passing between them as a peaceful aria, neither wanting to break their comfortable and serene calm, their safe stillness with one another. Hermione had rarely had these particular moments with anyone, and certainly not around any kinds of magical creature. She remembered back to her accompaniments of her Master to his Care of Magical Creatures classes and her attempts to care for his Blast-Ended Skrewt for him, as he himself refused to be in any kind of danger from the hybrid animal, which resembled neither of its Manticore or Fire Crab parents. Having been highly confused about being dragged wildly towards the hut of Rubeus Hagrid, the gamekeeper turned Professor, Hermione had suddenly had a pale, slimy deformed shell-less lobster thrust into her arms, its legs jabbing various body parts as they stuck out at odd angles making her gag from its repulsive rotten fish odour.

"By the way," Ron had looked at her bored, "I'd check if it's a boy or a girl if I was you. Males have stingers and the females have suckers. They'll get you either way." Shrieking she had held it away at arm's length, retching once more, desperate to relive herself of something so repulsive. Yet it had given a sudden spark, propelling her forwards a few inches whilst trying to grasp it still tightly yet cautiously within her fingers. As the year had worn on she discovered that as they grew their grey, shiny armour and her own males stinger curved now over its back, elongating it, the Skrewts became ever more dangerous and repulsive, despite how accepting of them she tried to be. She had moaned continuously to Carla about how her master had treated her, could not believe that she had been forced into such a situation whilst he sat and watched her work tirelessly through the summer weeks while he lazily gorged upon chocolates and ice-cream that she had had to reluctantly carry with her in the first place. Yet now she smiled, remembering a kindness that her Master had shown her, perhaps through guilt, or the need for her continued existence as his slave, after she had been suddenly thrown backwards as a Skrewt had shot ahead, using its blast to propel itself forwards into her, knocking her unconscious, falling into a crumpled heap upon the floor. All that she could remember from those next few days were snippets of what she hoped were memories, though they seemed more like something that her mind had created, to remove the pain that she had been suffering. Her Masters face had appeared to her several times, running with her in his arms towards the Hospital Wing; arguing with Madame Pomfrey, the schools matron, as well as Nurse Wainscott who had been busily attempting to attend to Hermione's various wounds; and sat by her side, muttering to her. She had always hoped that this had been a kind Master, one that she had always wanted desperately to know, though these were dashed slightly when she had eventually come around fully, enough to leave and return to her duties. He had scolded her terribly for gaining such an injury that had allowed his Skrewt to be killed off by one of its kin, punishing her with her maids outfit for the entire week whilst carrying a constant supply of Flobberworms which wiggled noisily in her pockets, munching hungrily upon lettuce. She shuddered at the thought of how many she had squashed or allowed to die from overeating.

"Hermione?" Her eyes opened suddenly, remembering exactly where she was and how she had obviously been ignoring Kevin's attempts to talk to her for a fair while. She gave a small laugh and a hasty smile,

"I'm fine!" She slapped his arm, perhaps a little harder than she intended, squealing at the top of her lungs in an exaggerated manor, drawing the temporary attention of those who had sat obliviously a little way from them. Yet it was another cry that made everyone turn and stare at her Master who had suddenly jumped up from where he sat and run, sprinting towards her, his arms flailing about his head madly, inaudible shrieks flying from his mouth.

"'MIONE! 'MIONE!" Taking her arms firmly in his hands he spun her around, shoving her in front of him and forwards a little, "That ugly dogs of yours! Get rid of it and them!" She stumbled a little as he pushed her more, pointing towards the space he had vacated, still not understanding why he was doing so until Crookshanks slunk out of a tree, grinning lazily to himself and perching where Ron had previously sat.

"Crookshanks?"

"Granger!" Ron once more pointed towards the floor, indicating a trail of small and still black objects that had fallen from his robes as he had run to her. Her brow furrowed as she lent a little closer to them and then turned her head backwards to face him,

"Are they...?"

"Spiders Granger!" She chuckled at him, remembering his cute fear of spiders as undoubtedly Crookshanks had also done so, teaming a large collection into his lap from a branch above him where the craft feline had steadily collected a mound of the dead creatures with the full intention of annoying and aggravating Ron.

~x~x~x~

Hermione let out a loud sigh, clearly bored senseless as she shifted her legs from under her and to the side, trying not to crush them under her own weight. Ginny shot her an unpleasant look from the sofa upon which she and her brother sat staring blankly at various sheets of paper that seemed to be screaming knowledge at him to which his brain simply refused to comprehend. Smiling a little she noticed a small brown owl tapping lightly upon the window, and standing, she hurried over to let it in. It circled over their heads a little, not rousing the concentration of any in the room and then settled upon Hermione's head as she made her way back to her place beside the fireplace, intent upon waiting for further instruction from her Master. As she sat it scurried from her hair and sat upon her apron, waiting for her to take its letter, which she did so carefully, thanking the owl and allowing it to fly back out of the now open window. Recognising the loopy hand writing immediately she smiled widely and tore open the envelope, reading the hastily scribbled note intently. A sudden bang and the portrait hole of Gryffindor Tower was thrown open, a slightly dazed and confused looking Master Harry stumbling in and flopping into the closest arm chair, staring into the fire's dying embers. Seemingly in a state of shock, he appeared to be fighting an internal battle within himself, unnerving her slightly.

"What kept ya?" Asked Ron, barely lifting his head from the paper that may as well have contained images of slugs rather than intricate spells and incantations. "Mate?"

"Did something happen Harry?" Asked Ginny, peering at him over her quill suspiciously,

"Cho?" Sniggered her Master, who was suddenly silenced as Ginny kicked him in the stomach sharply from where she laid splayed over half of the sofa.

"Er-" He managed to croak, Hermione suddenly understanding his situation immediately. Mistress Cho Chang had long since caught the eye of Master Harry, despite her connections to the now deceased Cedric Diggory, and the two had been floating about each other for months, not coming together, but not drifting apart, seemingly awaiting for action to present itself, rather than create it themselves. She knew from her slave that Cho spent most of her time crying in recent days, in any hidden corner of the castle that she could find, grieving the loss of her former interest, feeling the guilt of reciprocating Master Harry's feelings

"Did you kiss?" Ginny demanded of him suddenly, causing Ron to sit up so fast that he sent his ink bottle flying all over the rug and Hermione who gave an exasperated sigh, scowling up at his oblivious figure. Seeing his friend nod a little, he made a triumphant gesture with his fist and went into a raucous peal of laughter that made several timid-looking second-years over beside the window jump. "And how was it?" Ginny spat, throwing Ron a disgusted look, clearly not wanting to look at either of the boys that were currently in her presence. Hermione chuckled inwardly, seeing the jealous look that had spread across the youngest Weasley sibling's face that clearly the others were ignorant of, as they always had been.

"Truthfully...wet...she was crying." He sighed heavily, throwing his head backwards and towards the ceiling, Ginny moving a little closer to him hesitantly.

"Wow...you're actually that shit at kissing!" Ron jeered, making a noise of either jubilance or disgust, which was indistinguishable.

"How insensitive, he's definitely not. I feel sorry for the poor girl." She said aloud aimlessly, forgetting that she was not alone or sat quietly with her own thoughts.

"Why?" Both Ron and Ginny shot at her suddenly, glaring at her for daring to interrupt.

"Obviously, she is feeling very sad, because of Master Diggory dying. Then I expect she's feeling confused because she liked him and now she likes Master Harry," A sudden scraping and scrambling saw Ginny bolt from the room in a flurry, leaving them to stare after her momentarily, before returning to look at Hermione, "And, well, she can't work out who she likes best. Then she'll be feeling guilty, thinking it's an insult to his memory to be kissing Master Harry at all... And she probably can't work out what her feelings are towards him anyway, because he was the one who was with Master Diggory when he died, so that's all very mixed up and painful." Silence fell over them as the remaining participants stared aimlessly at her, their brains clearly in overdrive as she casually reread her letter earnestly.

"One person can't feel all that at once, they'd explode." Ron said, making large gestures with his arms in her direction, all of which she ignored fully.

"We don't all have the emotional range of a teaspoon," She muttered in retaliation, thinking how she could escape her Master to go and meet Viktor who was currently awaiting her on the fifth floor by the Prefects Bathroom. Taking the initiative she simply stood and made for the portrait hole, choosing to ignore the stares of her Master and Harry, hoping that they would simply allow her to leave and not question her actions. Yet she cringed as Ron barked in her direction,

"And you're going where?" Slowly rotating on the spot she slapped a sickly smile onto her face and cooed,

"Nowhere in particular my kind Sir, just some errands to run!" He shifted a little in his seat, eyeing her suspiciously,

"I don't remember sending you anywhere Granger. Who are you going to meet, is it that Kevin boy? Or Vikky maybe?" He spat at her harshly, folding his arms and glaring in her direction, obviously agitated.

"Oh no no no Master! Your...it's just...your pants!" She cried aloud, inadvertently pointing towards his crotch and causing his face to ignite as he crossed his legs violently. "NO! Not the ones you're wearing!" He picked up the few quills that were resting upon the arm of the sofa and threw them in her direction, watching them shower over her, spreading more ink to her already sodden clothes.

"Granger!" Throwing her hands forwards at him she waved them manically, not at all wanting to insinuate anything she deemed as disgusting towards her own Master.

"The others need washing!" She almost screamed at him, being interrupted only as Carla stepped into the room from behind her, humming away to herself, buried under a mound of books and parchment.

"Oh, Hermione," She said suddenly, seeing her friend in mid outrange pose, yet choosing to ignore it, "Viktor's still waiting for you, you know, he said to give you a reminder." Hermione froze suddenly, her eyes widening and locking with her Masters, who grinned evilly at her,

"Pants eh Granger?" And with that he stood, pushing his face into hers and snatched up her wrist, "Let's go visit Vikky then shall we?" With that, he dragged her rather ungraciously and abruptly out of the tower and down the staircase, towards the fifth floor, leaving Harry and Carla to stare after them bewildered.

"Please. Master. Stop this. You don't have to do this!" Hermione tried to pull away, to release his tight grip and run from him, perhaps to warn Viktor, perhaps to hide, either way, to relieve herself of his presence.

"Oh, and why not?" He suddenly rounded on her, bearing down angrily upon her, "So that my slave can keep on lying to me?" He gave her a little shake before continuing to drag her down the corridor, spotting Viktor but a few meters around the next corner they took, "Oi! KRUM!" The Bulgarian span around, surprised it was Ron who had called him, yet he smiled none the less, albeit a dark and cruel smile of which Hermione had not seen before.

"Ah, Veasley," Viktor sneered at him before taking Hermione's hand and pressing the back of it into his lips, causing her to blush slightly, opening her mouth ready to greet him. "My dearest Hermy-own-ninny," Wanting to embrace him she made a move towards him, yet she has dragged from his grasp suddenly by Ron, who scowled dangerously at him,

"You keep your fucking hands off of her!" Ron pulled her behind him sharply, pressing her into his back and drawing himself up to his fully height, sticking his chest out and into Krum's.

"I zee no issues." Viktor said flippantly, waving an arm at him superficially. To her surprise, Hermione felt her Master release her are and suddenly push Viktor backwards into the wall roughly, ignoring the smirk that was still plastered over his face, speaking low and threateningly, making a nearby suit of armour jangly and turn its head in their direction.

"Well I do. She is not yours." Viktor gave him a sudden shove back; throwing her Master aside and casually glaring back at him,

"She iz no mans. But still a man's for the taking I am thinking." He took a glance in her direction, smiling a little to try and reassure her that the situation was under control. Standing with her hands clasped in front of her chest Hermione was obviously panicking, unsure of whether she should intervene or not. Yet she was given no choice as Ron reclaimed her wrist and her entire body as she was pulled into her Master as he stood defiantly, glaring at his older counterpart.

"She's my slave. Key word, 'slave'. And you're a Pureblood. You know what that means." Her Master looked as though he were about to explode in anger and triumph, clearly under the impression that he had outdone Viktor.

"Vot should blood mean?" He glared at Ron, almost disgusted by what he was suggesting, "It makes no difference to a person's soul." Viktor glowered viciously, which Ron returned, beginning to walk away from him.

"Maybe not, but it doesn't change the law!" He shouted over his shoulder, "And it doesn't change what'll happen if you don't give up this ridiculousness!"

"She vill be safe with me. I vill take her from all zis, and I vill be the one to make er happy." Viktor shouted after him, making sure that every word was clear and concise that that Ron would hear him undoubtedly, understand what he meant fully. Stopping suddenly, Ron span both himself and Hermione around to face Viktor,

"You may have been able to take her from me last year, but you remember this, she...is mine."

~x~x~x~

"Come on then! What is it?" Ron practically slammed her into the wall by his bedside cupboard, glad that no others were presents to question the extensive noise that her back created as it connected with the cold stone. He watched her wince and squeal a little underneath him, trying to squeeze her way from him, seemingly desperate for an escape. "Tell me!" He practically screamed at her, unable to control his anger and rage any longer, demanding every detail of her life, every single second she had been witness to since she had come to the school, every man that had ever touched her.

"What? I don't understand!" Silent tears began to slip down her trembling cheeks as she stilled, hardly daring to look up at him, but still he didn't care, the fire within him burning deeply. How could she not understand? How could this insignificant slave girl not understand one thing? She was a slave. His slave. And she was ruining him.

"How can you not understand you silly little cow?" He pushed her further into the wall, so much so that she could have easily been absorbed by its structure, destined to disappear beneath it for all time, never to be recovered,

"I haven't even done anything!" She gave him a sudden large push to his chest, barely moving him an inch, despite using all of her strength. "Get off me, you selfish pig Ronald Weasley!" She rarely spoke to him in such a way, he knew how much she feared him so, knew what he could do to her. He could barely believe his ears, stepping away a little and reddening in embarrassment, allowing her body to fall to the floor in a sobbing, crumpled heap. He could see her chest falling and rising rapidly with every shuddering breath that she drew, seemingly readying herself against any attack that he may suddenly launch upon her, looking so fragile and yet defiant before him.

"Why?" He asked, his voice dangerously low and crawling, knowing that he could draw from her anything that he wanted. Glassy eyed she stared up at him, confusion set into her face, clearly under the impression that she had not offended him so, not dishonoured him, not betrayed him.

"Why...Why what? There's nothing to 'why' over." Her voice shook and wavered causing a pang of guilt from within him, a sickening churning bubbling inside his stomach that made him want to tear his eyes from her forever.

"How can you not understand...?" Ron whispered, suddenly flopping back onto his bed and turning his head from her, not wanting to even catch a glimpse of her, his heart suddenly strained and barely able to beat.

"I can't understand if you won't tell me. Master..." He heard her shuffle towards him a little, yet he pulled further away, feeling an icy sheet fall over him, hating how his title fell from her lips in that moment, wanting just to hear his name, no matter if 'pig' or 'arse' or any other insult came before it.

"Don't. You don't call him Master." His brain whirred, barely able to think as images of her together with him consumed him, making his face burn.

"What? You can't mean...Viktor? He has nothing to do with us!" Ron's head flipped back around towards her to find that she had shuffled so far forwards that she now sat right by his bed, her fingers clinging to his sheets a little, giving her the appearance of a small, starving child who wished to be let in out of the cold.

"He's everything to do with us! If it wasn't for him there'd be no issues!" He shot up where he lay, sitting up straight and staring intently down upon her, seeing her withdraw a little, before shuffling back to him defensively, "Why can't you understand that Granger?"

"There will always be issues with you!" She drew herself upwards, her fiery eyes piercing him, accusing him, "At least he respects me...he cares for me...mightn't even love me!" Something within Ron snapped, like she had pushed his self-destruct button, like she had stabbed him with a blade so deep it would pass right through him. Before he could stop himself he exploded in anger, words falling from his mouth before he could stop them,

"NO HE DOESN'T! He pities you and your worthless existence! And even if he did there can't ever be anything between you!" He could see her eyes widen and her face fall as she sank back into herself, falling flat on her bum, pushed, defeated against the floor. She looked as though she were about to cry, about to drown herself in her own tears, not wanting to be around him any longer, preferring death to being in his presence. He could barely believe in himself that he had spoken to her in such a way, no matter if she was his slave or not, her life should still have been important, especially as their situation demanded urgency, their threat, however unknown to his slave, was very, very real.

"Was he better than me?" He broke through their silence, curiosity and jealously taking hold of him suddenly, not wanting anyone to outdo him, not with her. Seeing her head twist in his direction and then tilt a little in misunderstanding, he took a deep breath, "I know that you've kissed him. And you've kissed me. Was he better?" He saw the horror dawn upon her face, realising that he had somehow seen her with Viktor and that he had purposefully kissed her that night, the night that she had longed to forget.

"You remembered? You were awake that night with Harry's dream?" She managed to force out, almost choking upon her own air, stumbling over her words.

"Of course." Seeing her eyes light in curiosity, perhaps even in hope, he drew himself back, falling rather ungracefully back onto his pillow, masking his features from her and spitting out, "You're only someone to practice on anyway. Not like you're worth kissing." Thinking only of defending his pride and his honour, lashing out at her viciously, turning his back upon her, not counting upon her taking his shoulder suddenly and ragging him back around to face him fully, eyes ablaze and filled with fury.

"How dare you..." Taking a hold of his head suddenly she drew his face into hers, crushing her lips against his, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, leaving him dazed and unsure of what was really happening. Ron could barely feel himself, his body numb and tingling, through anticipation, through lust, through utter confusion at his body's own response. All he could think was to pull her in closer which caused her to fall flat on top of him, pinning herself upwards by having her elbows either side of his head, caressing his face and hair with her hands as they kissed harshly and angrily. She stopped suddenly, and opening his eyes he saw her pull away from him, but feeling he was not done yet, Ron slipped a hand around the back of her neck, and without waiting for her permission he reunited their lips, snaking his tongue into her mouth allowing himself the pleasure of her mouth fully, oblivious to the world around him, not caring who could walk in on them potentially, ignoring the threat of any repercussions of his actions. For once he had given in, he had bared himself in front of her, knowing that she did not feel anything for him, saw him only as a slave driver, someone who had hated her because of her blood. Shame had often filled him late at night when he had lain trying to sleep, haunted by what he had done to her, just to save himself. Now he was risking her again, putting her very life in danger, as well as that of his entire family if they were to be caught. Thinking only of needing to break them apart, he was almost grateful that she pushed him away violently, scrambling from the bed and away from him, making for the heater in the centre of the room, no doubt intent upon retreating to the safety of the kitchens. Staring after her, Ron was fully aware of how she was struggling to even dare to look at him, seemingly trying to find the right words to use. Slowly lowering the lid over her head until barely any of her remained, her voice rang loud and clear throughout the room, "It's not a case of being better; it's about what feels right."


Japan's Arc Angel x