A/N: Hi everyone! So, yes this is kind of a short chapter (shorter than usual at least) but it is chock full of action so hopefully you'll forgive the short length! This chapter and the next were originally one chapter, but it works better as two.
Can't believe I have 119 people following this story after only four chapters, makes me so happy thank you!
I would love to hear more about what you're thinking about the story, how you think the plot is advancing, what you think of characterisations etc. so leave a review and we can chat!
Beta love to Lun27 as usual, there certainly wouldn't be this many people interested without you!
Fair warning that after this chapter we're heading into lemon territory!
Trigger Warning for future chapters: Kind of non-con (on both sides) nothing too traumatic
Chapter 5
The day of reckoning had arrived. Hermione stared vacantly at the eggs and sausage on her plate, trying to ignore the gnawing sense of dread. She couldn't help feeling like something would go horribly awry in Potions later that morning, despite Snape's assurances that no one would be taken advantage of under the serum. It still felt very risky.
"Are you with us Hermione?" Ron nudged her in the side.
What was I supposed to be talking about?
"Sorry, I was thinking about how we are testing our potions this morning."
Not a lie.
Ron chucked in derision. "Oh, come off it, what do you have to be worried about? I bet your batch of Veritaserum will be the strongest ever brewed," he proclaimed.
That's the problem.
Hermione did think about deliberately tanking the assignment to remove the danger, but there were two things that stopped her. First of all, she just couldn't bring herself to fail an assignment and secondly, in the current paranoid state she was in, she thought that if she deliberately sabotaged the potion, people would think she had something to hide.
"Unless you're worried about revealing something embarrassing while under the effects of it," Ron teased.
Yes.
"Don't be silly Ronald, Snape was very clear that there wouldn't be any interrogations while we're vulnerable," Hermione dismissed him.
Ron didn't say anything further, but he did arch his eyebrows as if he didn't quite believe her.
Hermione moved her gaze to Ginny who was looking at her with a compassionate, if not a little pitying, smile.
"How are we feeling about the Halloween Ball?" Ginny asked Harry and Ron, assisting Hermione with a swift change in subject.
She wasn't listening to their replies though. Hermione had caught sight of Malfoy at his table who looked just as sullen as she was feeling. He didn't look like he'd slept well, she spied the faint shadow of dark circles under his eyes and he apparently didn't even have the will to slick his hair back into his trademark style.
Well, at least he's as miserable as me.
Ron nudged her again. "Come one 'Mione, no use delaying the inevitable," he grumbled, thinking he was the only one who had to worry about having an embarrassing incident in Potions. Little did he know that his apprehension at being criticised by Snape for presenting an inadequate brew paled in comparison to what Hermione was afraid of.
Hermione dragged her feet to the dungeons, earning a few quizzical stares from Ron and Harry who couldn't understand why their best friend was hesitant to take part in an assessment for the first time since they knew her.
She got to the room before Malfoy and begrudgingly collected their cauldron from the back of the room. She was twisting her hands together anxiously when he sat down next to her.
"Try not to look so bloody nervous," he muttered.
Hermione looked down at her sweaty hands and wiped them on her robes before putting them in her pockets.
Snape billowed in, striding purposefully to the front of the room.
"Alright, let's get this over with. Longbottom and Parkinson, you're first."
Snape walked over to a small cabinet that housed numerous small glass vials containing a shimmering blue liquid. He pulled out six and made his way over to Neville and Pansy. Poor Neville looked like he might faint at any moment and Pansy just crossed her arms and drummed her fingers impatiently.
The Potions master took a minute or two to read through their brewing journal before he was satisfied and motioned for them to take a sip of their potion. Neville's hand shook uncontrollably, the liquid in the vial he was holding threatened to spill over the sides. Pansy downed her vial like she was doing shots at a party. Snape glared — wand pointed — at the onlooking students, silently reminding them not to utter a single word or face the consequences.
He then handed them each one of the vials he was holding, which Hermione now deduced to be the antidote, and cast the necessary charm to determine if they were successful. A faint purple glow started to pulse at the throats of Neville and Pansy.
"A." Snape announced. "Barely," he added. Neville and Pansy were quick to swig the blue remedy at the conclusion of their assessment, relief flashed across their respective faces as they swallowed.
"Potter and Weasley, get yourselves organised for Merlin's sake," Snape boomed with an eye roll of exasperation.
Ron and Harry proceeded to childishly fight over the dropper. Harry eventually won the skirmish, and he squeezed a small amount into each of their vials. Hermione could already tell that they had made a mistake somewhere along the way because their potion was sluggish and green. Snape snatched their brewing journal off the table and after a minute of reading, he signalled, none too gently, that the boys should hand over their vials. Ron and Harry complied, confused and a little fearful.
"If I had of let you imbibe your abomination of a potion I would have been sent to Azkaban for murder."
Ron and Harry donned matching looks of shock as they stared into the cauldron in front of them.
"Don't. Touch it," he warned sternly. "P. You are lucky it isn't a T for nearly killing yourselves."
The boys sat down in their seats, deflated in their failure. Harry then proceeded to flick through their journal, furiously trying to determine where they went wrong.
"Granger and Malfoy."
Okay. It's going to be fine.
Hermione picked up the dropper and placed a few drops of their crystal-clear mixture into vials. She handed one silently to Malfoy, careful not to touch him as she did.
Snape put a vial of the antidote in front of them. She felt some of the anxiety that had been consuming her lessen as she wrapped her fingers around the glistening blue ampule.
The professor started reading their journal and she noted how his left eyebrow twitched up ever so slightly. Hermione hoped it was a sign of him being impressed and not that they had messed it up.
He gave them a curt nod to drink their potion. The pair shared a brief look of apprehension before following through with his request. She didn't feel any different, but then again, she didn't expect to. The most dangerous qualities of Veritaserum were that it looked and tasted like water, and the victim wouldn't know they were under the influence until secrets spilled unwillingly from their mouths.
Heads began to turn as a series of screeches and bangs echoed into the classroom from the corridor. It stopped after a few seconds and Snape turned his attention back to them, wand raised in preparation for the diagnostic charm. The commotion in the hallway started up again, even louder this time. Snape closed his eyes and released a weary sigh.
"Take your antidotes. Both of you. And no one so much as looks at their potions until I return." He conjured lids that clamped down with a resonating bang onto to each cauldron as he exited from the classroom, stony faced and cloak billowing.
Hermione and Draco took the stoppers out of their vials and brought them to their lips.
"Evanesco!"
The vials disappeared with a small poof. They looked up in terror to see Pansy Parkinson sneering with her wand pointed directly at them.
"Now." She instructed authoritatively.
Two things happened in rapid succession. A pair of Slytherins swiped Draco and Hermione's wands from their desk and the remaining snakes turned to their Gryffindor targets and cried, "Expelliarmus!" in unison.
"Pansy. What are you doing?" Draco said, talking to her as if she were pointing a gun at them and he was trying to reason with her not to shoot.
Hermione's eyes darted around the room, looking for anyone that hadn't been bested by their Slytherin foe. Her eyes stopped on Harry and Ron who were being held at wand point by Crabbe and Goyle. The expression on their faces told her they were weighing up whether or not they could physically overpower the pair of dunderheads before they shot off a spell.
"Oh, shush Draco. I'm only having a little fun. Like you and the Mudblood here." Pansy sauntered towards them, nose wrinkled when she referred to the bushy haired brunette in front of her.
What does she know?
Hermione could see the flickers of confusion pass over the Slytherin students' faces. Apparently, they didn't know why they were carrying out this little mission for Pansy, they were just following orders.
"Pansy, whatever you're doing you had better do it quick before Snape returns," came the panicky voice of Millicent Bullstrode, who had her shaky wand pointed at Neville.
Pansy waved her hand, unconcerned. "Don't worry about that, I've made sure that we have plenty of time to play a little game of truth or… truth." She clapped her hands giggled manically at what was about to unfold.
Ron and Harry seemed to be communicating with only their eyes and small jerks of their head. Hermione caught Ron's gesture towards the cabinet filled with antidote.
Her breathing was coming in short, shallow breaths. This couldn't be leading where she thought it was.
"Pansy, you are going to seriously regret doing this if you take it any further," Malfoy threatened through gritted teeth.
She laughed again, but it sounded hollow and malicious. "Au contraire, Draco. I rather think it will be you suffering the consequences once I'm through here. You've been a bad boy." Pansy shook her head in mock disappointment.
What is taking Harry and Ron so long to do something?
Hermione chanced a look at the pair again. Crabbe's attention was on Pansy and his wand had swayed slightly from its target. Harry made a dive for his wand in Crabbe's meaty grip, but he was spotted, and Crabbe stepped back to correct his aim. Harry froze and looked at Hermione apologetically.
"Your golden boys can't get you out of this one, Mudblood," Pansy spat.
"Parkinson if you lay one hand on Hermione. I'll —"
Pansy giggled manically again, "Weasley, it's not my hands you have to worry about."
Hermione could feel her heartbeat drumming in her ears. All her fears were about to come true and there wasn't anything she could do about it.
"Imagine my surprise when one night I was walking to the Slytherin Dormitory and heard some positively scandalous noises coming from a nearby room," Pansy started, walking around the room to speak to her captive audience.
Oh Merlin.
"Pansy, I won't warn you again —"
She went on as if Draco hadn't spoken, "Upon my investigation, what did I see? Draco standing between the legs of a wanton witch with his hands up her skirt."
Hermione heard a few students gasp in surprise at Pansy's indelicate revelation. She willed herself not to flame with humiliation and out herself, though she doubted it would matter in a few moments.
"Who – was – that – witch, Draco?" Pansy asked, her lips curled into a sneer of satisfaction.
Draco's eyes narrowed and he grit out, "None of you bloody business Parkinson."
How is he resisting the serum?
Pansy looked discouraged for a moment, so sure that she would have her big reveal there and then. After a moment, she perked up as she had decided her next course of action.
"I see you've been keeping up with your Occlumency practice, bravo. But that looked like it took a lot of effort, I don't think you'll be able to resist for long. Have you been teaching her? Let's find out."
Hermione felt Draco move behind her.
"One more step and you'll be a ferret. And I'll still get the answer I'm looking for," Pansy threatened with her wand pointed at Malfoy.
Pansy walked forward until she was face to face with Hermione.
"Hermione Granger," she began, "were you that witch that spread her legs for Draco that evening?"
She couldn't hold it in, the urge to respond was overwhelming. Hermione felt the word slide into her throat like vomit and burst into her mouth. She tried to bring her hand up to cover her mouth and stifle her answer, but Pansy was close enough to grab her wrist mid-air.
"Yes!" The word came out forcefully with all the energy of her trying to resist.
More sharp gasps echoed in the room. Then murmuring and a faint, strangled, "No," reached her ears from the direction of where Harry and Ron were being held captive.
The Slytherins got momentarily distracted by the shock of her answer and her two best friends took this opportunity to wrestle their wands back.
"Let them go," Pansy commanded, without breaking eye contact with Hermione. "We got what we came for." With a final withering look she turned away from her and Draco.
Hermione felt the tears prick the edges of her eyes, but she didn't want to give the evil Slytherin witch the satisfaction of seeing her cry. She glanced over at Harry and Ron and immediately regretted it. Colour had drained from their faces and they were looking at her with their mouths slightly open. They were looking at her like they couldn't believe she had done the most awful thing imaginable.
Before they could say anything to her, she ran from the room finally letting the tears spill over.
Hermione made it outside and let her tired legs direct her, she wasn't even sure where she was going. She just knew she had to be far away.
The burning in her lungs forced her to eventually stop and she collapsed to the ground as sobs wracked her body.
They're never going to look at me the same.
She wasn't sure how long she laid there on the cold ground, crying and huddled in a heap. It felt like a long time. Hermione was in no way ready to get up.
The muffled sounds of footfalls on damp grass reached her ears.
She used the sleeve of her coat to wipe the wetness from her face and peered through blurry eyes to see who was coming towards her.
"Hermione! She's here, I found her!" She heard Ginny yell.
Ginny came rushing to her side and enveloped her in a crushing hug. She squeezed her tight from behind and whispered, "Oh, 'Mione. I am so sorry."
Hermione reached up to grip her friend's arm and silent tears began falling from her eyes again.
"Ginny… they know," she whimpered.
"I know sweetie, I know… I told them it would be best if I found you by myself, but they're not behaving reasonably at the moment."
As if on cue, Harry and Ron came running to them, slightly out of breath.
Ginny held out the hand that wasn't holding Hermione out to Ron and said, "Give me the vial, she needs the antidote."
Hermione looked up at her two best friends and nearly physically recoiled at what she saw. She had never seen them look at her with such distrust and disgust.
Ron reached into his pocket and took out a blue vial.
"Hurry up, Ronald!" his irate sister demanded.
Ron rolled the vial around between two fingers.
Harry nudged him and gestured for him to deposit it into Ginny's waiting hand.
"Are you really Hermione?" Ron questioned, apparently having decided that he was going to use Hermione's current state to get some answers.
"Yes," she answered quietly.
"Ron, don't you dare interrogate her like this —"
Ginny's biting words were interrupted by Hermione's, "No, it's okay. I'm tired of lying. Ask your questions, both of you."
Ginny looked at her oddly, not understanding why Hermione would submit herself to further scrutiny. Her gaze then flitted to Harry, imploring him to put a stop to this.
"Hermione, I've told them what's been happening. You don't have to let them do this to you."
Yes, I do.
This was about a boy that almost killed Dumbledore. This was about the boy that sat and watched as Bellatrix Lestrange mercilessly tortured and mark her, not to mention the years of bullying that preceded it all. This was the ultimate betrayal.
"How could you let him touch you?" Ron demanded.
"Something is controlling us, pushing us to do it."
"Did you shag him?"
"Yes," she admitted, something like anguish strangled the word.