The Phantom of Hogwarts

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Chapter Four

The death of Mrs. Norris had a far greater affect on everyone at Hogwarts, and though no one would admit it, there was that part of them that felt sad and almost missed her. It was, of course, never a treat, getting caught by her and then Flich moments later, but none of the students had ever wished her dead.

Everything about that night still lurked quietly in the students' minds. Mrs. Norris had been bloody and mangled; her fur had fallen out in some places. The once pointy ears atop her head were now drooping, and her mouth seemed to be open in a silent scream. Her lamp-like eyes were opened wide in terror.

Flich was taking it the worst, as was expected. He no longer cared about dropped dungbombs or students cursing each other in the hallways. Dragging his feet across the floor, he slumped around back and fourth around the castle. Tears were usually seen in his eyes, and never would he return to the second floor corridor. Mrs. Norris had been his only friend in the world, and now he had lost her. Even Hogwart's students felt a sharp stab of pain whenever they saw him wandering around aimlessly, a look of loss in his dull eyes. It was as though he had had the dementor's kiss.

The Phantom, on the other hand, was basking in his victory. The Great Dumbledore himself was unable to prevent Mrs. Norris' death, and he could feel the faint doubt that the students had created in their minds. Best of all, his presence in the castle made even the bravest Gryfindors shiver. He had started his revenge on Potter, and things seemed as though they would only get better for him.

There were still several students who found the whole ordeal a great joke, and were laughing about it one morning at breakfast. Four sixth year Slytherins were making fun of Flich, and even a few arrogant Ravenclaws were poking fun at the poor man. Anthony Goldstein, who wanted to look cool for Hermione, decided to join in.

"It's really pathetic, you know." He gloated glancing at Hermione to see if she was watching, which she wasn't, but her ears were open. "That old hag had nothing better to do than love that stupid cat. Honestly, if I ever turned into something that sad, I want you guys to hex me till I die." The Ravenclaws, who were actually dense enough to listen, roared in laughter, receiving glares from other tables and many fellow Ravenclaws.

"Shut up, Anthony." Hermione snapped. "You don't even know anything about him. Maybe Mrs. Norris was the only thing he had left to love."

"Even if Flich was a git, that's a little below the belt." Agreed Ron. Harry nodded. Anthony opened his mouth then closed it, unable to think of anything to say. The mail arrived bringing Hermione a copy of The Daily Prophet, and the three conversed over an article about house-elf rights.

Still arguing about it on the way to Herbology, Anthony caught up with them.

"Excuse me, could I please talk to Hermione, alone?" he asked politely. Harry and Ron looked to Hermione, who looked neither thrilled nor dreadful of Anthony's appearance.

She kept her calm composure, and said, "Go ahead. I'll be there in a minute." Skeptically, Harry and Ron walked off slowly. When they were finally out of earshot, Anthony spoke.

"Hermione, I hope you don't take what I said about Flich seriously. I was only joking, you know, for my mates." Hermione remained unfazed.

"It's quite alright." She said coolly, not meaning what she said. As she began to walk off, Anthony grabbed her shoulder.

"You don't seem to believe me." He stated. "I really care about you, Hermione. I don't want this phantom or whatever to hurt you."

"I thank you for your chivalry, but I can handle anything on my own." Said Hermione with emphasis. Anthony didn't release his grip. "Let go of me." She said sternly. He didn't move. She struggled, but his grip only intensified as he moved his lips closer and closer to her.

Suddenly, Hermione spotted something floating over Anthony's shoulder. It was a large rusty bucket from one of Flich's closets. With all her strength, she whipped her arm away and dashed away from him only to hear a waterfall of water wash over Anthony, and his curses floating down the hall.

Relief washed over Hermione, but who had helped her? No one had been the hallway with them. If they had, said person would've done more than dump a bucket of water over Anthony's head. A thought crossed through Hermione's mind, but she shook it off. There's no way the cruel heartless Phantom of Hogwarts, killer of cats and master of attacking food, would save a poor girl in distress.

If he really saved me, thought Hermione, he must be a god.

The Phantom watched the scene before him and smirked. He could tell Hermione had thought about him, but she obviously didn't believe it. After all, why would he save her? The Phantom didn't know himself. It had been an accident that he had stumbled upon them in the first place. He had been sneaking through the darkness when he heard her brave words and saw the hungry look in Anthony's eyes. Even if she was a Mudblood, no one deserves to be harassed like that, he decided.

Besides, maybe he could have some fun with her. Imagine, the Phantom of Hogwarts stealing the heart of the beloved Gryfindor angel. It would hurt Potter the most, and would be the perfect revenge. Not only that, she was fairly decent looking though not nearly as pretty as some of the other girls. Still, he couldn't help but feel a small spark of attraction towards her, the forbidden one; the sweet addicting nectar in life that he could only look at but would never grace his parched.

The most torrid affair Hogwarts will ever see, filled with lust, passion, and mystery. She would kiss his lips a thousand times, but never even anything more than his eyes. And he knew the perfect way to begin the seduction…

Hermione woke up in the middle of the night and looked around. Someone or something was playing a soft melodious tune, a haunting tune. She recognized it, but didn't know where she had heard it. Glancing at her clock, she noticed it was midnight. Everyone would be asleep by now, and she was curious about the mysterious song. Quietly, she slipped out of bed and wrapped a robe around her pajamas. Not bothering with slippers, Hermione cracked open the door to her room and silently maneuvered herself down the stairs and out of Gryfindor Tower.

As soon as the portrait of the Fat Lady closed, an organ took over and began to play. Immediately, she knew where she had heard the music. It was The Phantom of the Opera, a favorite book, play, and movie of hers. Where was it coming from though? The sound was not coming from this floor, that much she knew. Knowing she wouldn't get caught since Flich was no longer patrolling and McGonagall, her favorite teacher, was patrolling, she knew she would be safe and set out down the hallways in search of the strange music and even stranger musician.

Following the music as it played over and over again, she walked down flights of stairs until she heard the music becoming louder. The library.

It had been left unlocked that night, and Hermione carefully slid into the dark library. As soon as the door was shut, a whisper floated through the library calling to her.

Sing for me…

Hermione had never been too much of a singer, but she knew the words and was entranced by this beautiful music.

In sleep he sang to me

In dreams he came

That voice which calls to me

And speaks my name

And do I dream again

For now I find

The Phantom of the Opera is there

Inside my mind

Wandering through the deserted library, Hermione followed the music, desperate to find who was playing it. Her mind was blank, and she felt as though the sinfully beautiful music was pulling her closer and closer, ignoring all through of protest in her brain.

A strong male voice began to sing, and Hermione followed, wanting to find the voice.

Sing once again with me

Our strange duet

My power over you

Grows stronger yet

And though you turn from me

To glance behind

The Phantom of the Opera is there

Inside you mind

Louder and louder it grew. She was closer, oh so close that she felt butterflies in her stomach as she began the next line of the song, hoping the voice would join in.

Those who have seen your face

Draw back in fear

I am the mask you wear

It sang back to her.

It's me they hear.

And their voices were joined together.

My/Your sprit and my/voice

In one combined

The Phantom of the Opera is there

Inside my/your mind

Hermione whipped around and saw a suspicious door that was never there before. It couldn't have been there before. She knew this library inside out. The music was loudest here, and she could somehow sense the mysterious man's presence, as if they were bound together. She opened the door and timidly peaked in.

The room was small and dark with nothing but a single candle next to a grand organ. An outline of a tall figure sat on the bench, his fingers moving expertly across the keys. She could see nothing of him, but she knew. It was the Phantom of Hogwarts.

"I knew you would come." He whispered as he ended the song.

"You play beautifully." She answered. "The music drew me her. I had to see if it was really you."

"You already knew it was." The Phantom stood and moved closer. "I am the Phantom of Hogwarts." The candlelight flashed across his face, and Hermione caught the reflection off of a white mask, worn over one half of his face, blocking her view of his face.

"But why me?" she asked. "Wouldn't you want me dead? Harry Potter is one of my best friends." The Phantom raised a finger and brushed it over her lips.

"You have the most addicting lips I've ever tasted." He whispered before claiming her lips once more. It was more intense this time. His tongue darted out and pushed open her lips; it slithered into her mouth exploring all of its crevices and valleys. She tasted sweet, as he expected, exactly like honey. Her tongue finally reacted to his, and it began to stroke his own. She began to lean in further to him, and he took advantage of it.

His hands came out and began to caress her soft stomach. They slide through her robes and darted under her tank top. She gasped as he began to massage her breasts, making her moan in response. Hermione arched her back and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, playing with the soft hair, though she couldn't see his hair color. No one had ever filled her with this much passion before, and she wanted as much as she could get.

Suddenly, he broke the kiss, and his lips glided down her throat and began sucking on her neck, as if she were a ripe strawberry. Lust clouded Hermione's vision, and she began to sway. The Phantom stopped his feasting, and looked her in the eye.

"You're mine now." He said huskily. Hermione moaned one final time and fainted away. The Phantom smirked again and caught her before she hit the ground.

It had begun. This beautiful luscious woman was now his. Wherever she went, whatever she did, he would always be there, singing songs in her head. But looking at how she had kissed him, he didn't think she would mind much.

A Mudblood, he repeated over and over in his brain. No, he didn't love her. He loved her body, the passion that radiated off of it. Goddess to him, but a masked beauty to the rest of the world, much like himself. She fit perfectly in his arms, her soft yet untamed hair smelled of vanilla. He loved the way she reacted when he touched her breasts, a virgin no doubt. It only made him want more of this angel, though he was the devil himself.

The Phantom carried Hermione through Hogwarts Castle using his ways to go unobserved. As he laid her down on her bed, took off her robe, and tucked her in, he imagined himself making love to this beautiful creature before him. And though she was nothing more than a Mudblood, he knew he'd want to taste her honey taste again and again.

A/N: Wow! That's the smuttiest thing I've ever written! I love it! Thanks for reading. I hope this satisfied you guys, even though it was mostly smutty fluff. Still, this is a romance story, just like The Phantom of the Opera is supposed to be, lustful and full of passion. Please note that Draco and Hermione are not in love, but lusting heavily after one another. Thanks again and please review!

Running Amuck,

RonFan