AN: Trigger Warning - sexual assault
If you can't get someone out of your head, maybe they're supposed to be there. - Luna Lovegood
The sun hung low in the sky. It gently kissed the tops of the buildings and cast a glow across the scattered group of passersby. It would have been a beautiful painting if he had been inclined to appreciate splendour. The splashes of orange tinged with deep blue meant nothing to him.
The perfectly haphazardly aligned shops used to draw his eye. The hints of colour in the window displays used to cause something akin to happiness, or at the very least vague intrigue, but no longer. Those days were gone. They were stolen from him much like a thief in the night and it was up to him to right such wrongs.
He stood eerily still and listened to the echoes of Diagon Alley. He used to love the sights and sounds as witches and wizards alike bustled about, but no longer. He used to love many things, but his heart had slowly been filled with fierce resentment that eventually led to abhorrence.
He detested their happiness. He abhorred their smiles. He hated the way they simply forgot and moved on with their lives. Hate wasn't nearly strong enough to describe the teeth gnashing level of intensity that blurred his vision and caused his bones to ache.
He had promised. He had solemnly sworn, but what did it matter when such promises were made to a Muggle? It wasn't as if he had made a Wand Oath or an Unbreakable Vow. He had simply stood before a man he barely remembered and promised.
It was easy to traverse through the waning crowd. He nodded dutifully as was expected of him. He smiled and even offered a half-hearted wave to his peers. He avoided the shops and patiently waited for the cover of night.
When the darkness settled over the cobblestone and the moon shone high in the sky that was his favourite time of day. He would close his eyes and allow the tensions to seep from his shoulders. There was something about the pitch black that soothed his rages.
"What are you doing here?"
He hissed angrily and cursed himself for being spotted this close to Knockturn Alley. While it wasn't quite the nefarious place it had been prior to the end of the War, it was still questionable at best. He had become distracted by the calm that overtook him, which was a mistake.
"What's it to you, Weasley?" He sneered.
He'd never been fond of the easily riled ginger and had never seen a point in pretending otherwise. He was fairly certain the sentiments were returned, not that it bothered him. He didn't want to be cordial to the likes of Ronald Weasley or his counterparts for that matter.
"Still a tosser," Ron growled.
"Perhaps. It seems wealth hasn't done much to alter your surly disposition, has it?" He smirked nastily and enjoyed the red flush that decorated the half-wit's cheeks. "How is your sister these days?"
"Don't you speak of her!" Ron shouted as he drew the attention of a few passing witches and quickly wiped a clammy palm down his face.
"Temper, temper."
He waggled his fingers and winked at the furious Ron Weasley. He scoffed upon spying Harry Potter's approach and gently drifted into the shadows. He wasn't of a mind to suffer the presence of the Golden Boys. Rather than wait for a sound scolding, he slipped down the steps and marched directly toward 13B.
"Leave him be, Ron."
"Why is he hanging around Knockturn Alley, Harry. Why don't you ask him that?" Ron puffed out his chest importantly, but there was no one to give him his glory.
"There's been a report Dre Head is missing. I suppose he's been assigned to the case. Does it matter? You've got to shove off. Your mum owled me specifically to remind you to go to the Burrow," Harry peered into the darkened alley, but he couldn't see much of anything.
"Yeah alright, but I still don't like him. Are you coming?" Ron looked at Harry questioningly.
"No, no I'm not. Molly mentioned something about your sister and I'd rather not be there for that. I'm sure you understand," Harry shrugged and avoided Ron's narrowed blue eyes.
Harry waited until Ron Disapparated before he turned toward the tiny hidden shop near the corner. It was fairly nondescript, which suited him just fine. The magical streetlamps flickered and Harry yanked on the collar of his robes in order to conceal his identity from prying eyes.
He inhaled deeply, held his breath, and pushed open the door. The jangle of metal on metal hurt his ears as the strange knot of unidentifiable objects rapped against the glass. Harry quickly grappled with the items and squeezed his eyes shut.
It took him a moment in his nervousness, but finally, the horrible screech like clang ebbed into nothing more a gentle sway. Harry cautiously released his breath and stared at the twisted bits of sparkling metal with a keen eye. He'd never seen anything like it, but as far as Luna Lovegood was concerned, Harry also knew he should have expected the uniqueness that seemed to accompany her existence.
"…not to mention the fact he keeps kissing me!" The familiar voice rang through the cramped shop.
Harry slid along the wall and swallowed hard. He bumped into a small display and a handful of vibrating wands bounced off his cheek. He bent to retrieve them and shuddered at the vibrant colours while he hoped Hermione hadn't seen him enter.
"You're so tense, Hermione. You have to admit Draco's been quite lovely to you since the Muggle fire. You keep protesting his advances, but you haven't said a word about that ring."
Harry squatted low beside a nearby bookshelf and covered his mouth with both hands. He couldn't concentrate on Luna's soothing voice when he was face to face with fur-lined handcuffs and some sort of paddle. His elbow knocked into strange little bottles filled with liquid and he groaned.
"I don't want to like him," Hermione muttered.
"I think it's too late for that. Off you go, I've a nervous customer hiding by the lubrication and you've got Unspeakables to harass."
Harry pulled up the collar of his trench and covered his face when Hermione strode passed. She hadn't given him a second look, but it didn't help to quench his nervousness. He knew he shouldn't have come, but Lavender had asked him to give the shop a look and pick up something to bring life back into their bedroom. Harry didn't particularly want to bring life back into his bedroom, but he did as she asked.
"Lubrication?" Harry finally commented.
"Oh yes, there's all sorts. There's warming, cooling, edible, and that's just for vaginal play. The anal lubrication is—"
"Luna!"
Harry rubbed his scar from habit more than pain or irritation and shook his head. It wasn't necessarily easy to manoeuvre toward the glass showcase, but he managed. His eyes twitched toward the curious and strange items, but Harry was definitely not going to ask about them.
"Would you like to see the anal beads?" Luna asked innocently.
"N-no, I just no, thank you," Harry stammered. "Lavender suggested—"
"I see," Luna sighed, "on the back wall are some blindfolds and silk cords. She'd probably like that sort of thing. She's not very adventurous for a Gryffindor."
Harry shifted uncomfortably. He wasn't quite sure if he should tell the willowy blonde he came to see her rather than wares. He cleared his throat noisily and covered her hand with his.
"What do you like?"
Luna's cornflower blue eyes sparkled with mischief. Her dainty fingers walked across the glass and Harry watched them, completely enraptured. He held his breath as they continued their spider walk up his chest and suddenly, his tie was in her fist. Luna pulled with more strength than Harry thought she had and smashed her lips against his.
"I quite like you, Harry Potter."
Harry definitely wasn't complaining when Luna slowly walked around the glass case and sunk to her knees. He held his breath and gulped noisily, his eyes wide with apprehension laced with excitement. Her fingers fumbled with his belt, but then the sweet sound of his zipper falling made his breath expel harshly.
"L-Luna, I didn't come here f-for that," Harry whimpered.
Luna being Luna ignored him and grasped his semi-erect cock with sure fingers. She tugged down his denims with her free hand and lightly stroked his bare arse. She hummed softly and pressed her lips to the barely concealed tip just to hear Harry gasp.
She toyed with the excess skin until his cock hardened and it was taut. It was a simple matter to engulf Harry's cock in her warm mouth with a firm fist at the base. Luna blinked up at Harry through light blonde lashes and memorised the ecstasy etched into his face.
Harry's hips gently rocked, completely in tune with Luna's vigorous pumps. The moan caught in his throat, especially as he felt her fingers near the cusp of his arse. It made him more than a bit nervous, but it was difficult to focus on that feeling when he was feeling so much more elsewhere.
Luna surreptitiously removed a small clear bottle from her plaid skirt pocket. She knew Harry wouldn't notice what she was doing with it as long as she kept him preoccupied. He was quite predictable in his gasps and moans and she appreciated it. It was much easier to complete the task when she knew what her partner liked.
She laughed, which wasn't nearly as difficult as one would think with a cock in her mouth. Luna watched Harry throw his head back and felt his thighs quake against her. She eased her fingers between his arse cheeks and ever so gently teased Harry's arsehole.
"L-Luna!" Harry squeaked and clamped his arse cheeks together with eyes widened in alarm.
"Relax, Harry. Don't you trust me?"
Luna continued to stroke his cock with her sure fist until Harry nodded. She licked the tip and swirled her tongue around the head before she nearly swallowed it whole. While Luna distracted him with her deep throating abilities, her pinkie found its mark.
"I'm not sure—oh that's not—entirely unpleasant," Harry sighed. "Holy shit."
Harry's knees buckled and his limbs trembled. His orgasm didn't usually hit him quite that hard, but there was something about watching Luna Lovegood's cheeks suck in as she manipulated his wilting cock. It almost made him feel powerful until his conscience reared its irritating head.
"Stop it, Harry," Luna gently dabbed her lips with the hem of her skirt and shook her head. "I know what you're doing. My father says that most men do what you've done and their wives are thankful for it. I also believe Daddy is a bit of a liar, but I'd rather not think about that now. I'd much rather take off my clothes in the back room and wait for your refractory period to end unless you're not up for it?"
While Harry Potter was hastily disrobing for Luna Lovegood, Hermione Granger wandered Diagon Alley. She considered stopping in Flourish and Blott's, but there was something that kept her from the shop. It didn't hold the same pleasure it once had and she didn't have a solid reason as to why. Hermione discovered it was true with most things these days and it disturbed her greatly.
"Hermione, lovely to see you," The tall, skinny blond said with a smile.
"Oh, hello," Hermione replied.
Her smile didn't reach her chocolate brown eyes and she worried her distaste was obvious. She did so hate to be rude, but she couldn't say she particularly liked the man. It didn't matter how many years had passed since their school days.
"I've heard some rumours and I was wondering if you might clear something up for me?" He asked congenially while his dark eyes roved over her form appreciatively.
"I-I suppose I could try."
Hermione didn't like the way he leered at her, but she refused to make a scene. She'd never been fond of him, but she had attempted to embrace the art of diplomacy. As a Ministry worker, it was imperative to forge connections and wallow through the politics in order to solve her cases.
"Tell me, did Malfoy really mark you?" He leant close and revelled in her discomfort.
"I'd rather not discuss it. I'm sure you understand," Hermione shifted her weight between her feet and desperately browsed the passersby for an escape.
"Oh come on now, Hermione. It's all the talk of the Ministry and even you must admit that Malfoy's been particularly prickly, especially where you're concerned. I'd hate to upset him further by," He paused for dramatic effect, "touching you." He caressed her bare forearm and invaded her personal space quite a lot.
"You shouldn't do that," Hermione snapped and wrenched her arm away from the blond. "Yes, alright? It's such a small thing really. It hasn't been completed mind you, at least that's what I've been told." She bit her lip and blushed lightly. She hadn't meant to tell him quite so much, but he had angered her.
"Would you show it to me? Unless, of course, it's in some delectably embarrassing location?"
The shine in his dark eyes made her curious more than frightening her. He was clearly obsessed with the notion of her mark and in her haste to escape him, Hermione nodded and gestured toward a darkened passageway behind her. Her arrogance didn't allow her to consider him a threat, but she was wrong to underestimate him.
"I'd rather not bare it in the midst of Diagon Alley. I suppose it wouldn't hurt to show it to you. It's really nothing nefarious, I don't understand your interest in it. Has this something to do with—"
Hermione's words were cut off with a quick Silencio. She was shoved into the damp brick and his hot breath was expelled against her throat. She struggled but he was surprisingly fast. With a few waves of his wand, her hands were pinned above her head and her wand was safely tucked into his trousers.
"Always too trusting, Ms Granger," he hissed. "I can't hear you. There's no use telling me I can't do this and I don't want to do this and all that other rot. I'm not going to fuck you, but a taste definitely isn't off the table."
His fingers dug into her chin and he forced Hermione's head to the side. His fingertip brushed the silvery mark lightly, but not enough to cause her discomfort. He'd read about Veela markings extensively. He knew if he wasn't careful, the Malfoy brat would swoop to her rescue, and he couldn't have that, not yet.
"Your breasts are lovely even when they are confined. I wonder if they'll taste as good as they look."
Hermione's blouse spread easily beneath his hands and she glowered at him as he stared. She'd always known he was an arrogant cowardly sort of wizard, but she had never expected him to be the sort of man to go to such lengths. Her fear precluded her ability to utilise nonverbal magic and it was with a sinking heart Hermione realised she was utterly helpless.
The hot tears pricked the corner of her eyes as he removed her brassiere, but she comforted herself with the fact he hadn't touched her. She closed her eyes against the assault even as his fingers dug into her hips. She pretended she couldn't feel her skirt being yanked over her thighs and the hands that teased the sides of her knickers.
"I think I'll take these with me," he laughed and slowly dragged the silk down her trembling thighs.
He bent and caressed her knee as he removed them. He imagined her sharp gasp of indignation, especially when he shoved the fabric into his pocket. He stared at her exposed flesh hungrily, but he wasn't particularly fond of the way she ignored him. He knew he'd have to rectify that immediately.
"Look at me or I'll fuck you right here for all to see," he threatened.
His smile was completely out of place when her eyes flew open. He revelled in her fear. It made him feel powerful and he did like to feel powerful. He had promised his partner he wouldn't rough her up too much, but the allure of Hermione Granger powerless beneath him was nearly too much to ignore.
He liked the way she stiffened and attempted to escape. The tears dripping on her cheeks were a delightful accompaniment to his tongue lapping at her throat. While she stared at him in horror, he dipped his head and latched onto an enticing dusky peak. He sucked hard, knowing that it hurt her.
"I'd love to make you come," he whispered between her breasts. "I'd love to live with the knowledge that I made Hermione Granger come like a whore. I've fucked all the pretty ones," he crooned. "I've made them all come. They don't remember, but that was part of my plan as well. My brother is surprisingly adept when it comes to hypnosis, but I've perfected his skill with spells."
Hermione's silent screams only increased his pleasure. He wanted to defy his partner's wishes and shove his throbbing cock into her slick heat, but he didn't. She was a virgin, but not just that. It hadn't stopped him any other time. She had been Marked and defiling her would be signing his death warrant.
"The Weasley girl begged me to stop. Her sobs turned into moans when I fucked her. If you lot had been paying attention you might have noticed the changes in her when you returned from your little mission," he paused to twist her nipple painfully. "You look surprised. The prefect's bathroom was the perfect place to catch her unawares. She was a virgin and was quite proud of the fact she was saving herself for Harry fucking Potter. Incompetent ponce that he is wouldn't know how to please a woman if he was given hands-on instruction. We all know it was you that saved us from V-Voldemort."
He laughed darkly the moment he felt Hermione shudder against his erection. It was a heady sensation, despite knowing it stemmed from revulsion. He moaned against her throat and continued his gentle thrusts, his cock between her thighs, teasing, never penetrating, until she sagged against the brick in silent humiliation.
"Pansy screamed the loudest," he confessed with his head against her heart. "Daphne was the most compliant. Lavender was the most frightened, which only made it that much more exciting. Astoria was the youngest and a disappointment, really. Ginny, that fucking bitch, came the most. She was starved for it. I had her more than once," he laughed. "In fact, I even had her after she snagged Potter, which made it that much better. I heard she's come back. I might just have to pay her a visit."
While he tidied up and buttoned her blouse, Hermione chanted the names over and over. She knew he'd alter her memory, but she fervently hoped she'd remember something. He couldn't get away with this.
"I'll wank to your tits tonight, Hermione," He licked her mark on her neck and shoved his wand in her face. "Dedisco," he whispered.
Hermione fell to the ground in a heap. She clutched her throat and blindly searched for her wand. She had heard it clatter and knew it had to be there. The hysteria built and when she finally grasped her wand in unsteady fingers, the traumatised scream ripped through her throat.
She yanked her skirt over her knees and analyzed the heavy feeling in her head. The questions that raced through her brain were left unanswered. She was incapable of sending a Patronus and therefore, she simply screamed until she was hoarse.
"Pansy. Daphne. Lavender. Astoria. Ginny."
She repeated the litany even after a concerned group of witches and wizards surrounded her. Hermione could hear their murmurs and whispers, but she knew if she stopped repeating the names she would forget. She slumped against the brick and hissed as the cold seeped through her blouse.
"Call the Aurors!" Someone shouted.
"What's she saying?" Another voice questioned.
"Write it down," the inherently soothing voice of Luna Lovegood wafted above the crowd and Hermione's shoulders sagged with relief. "I've got you."
Harry Potter pushed through the crowd and reached for Hermione but she shrunk away from him. She huddled into Luna's side and twisted one of Luna's blonde strands around her finger. She didn't want Harry or even Ron. She wanted Draco Malfoy, but for the life of her, she couldn't understand why.
"St Mungo's—" Harry began.
"No, not there," Hermione pleaded. "I'm alright, just a bit shaken up. The Ministry. I need to go to the Ministry."
Harry nodded curtly, though it was obvious he was displeased. He believed she should be taken directly to St Mungo's and afterwards to the Burrow. Molly would look after Hermione as if she was her own child and that always made everything better. It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact Ginny was there. Absolutely nothing.
Luna managed to help Hermione to her feet and guided her to the nearby Flourish and Blott's. After a few coaxing words, the matronly witch allowed them use of the Floo. It was a harrowing experience for Hermione to traverse the Floo Network and she hugged herself in relief the moment she stumbled into the Ministry.
"I've sent for the Investigators and I thought you might like Ron here as well—"
"No," Hermione interrupted Harry's diplomacy with a quick shake of her mussed curls. "Malfoy, get me Malfoy."
Harry's lip curled with distaste, but he didn't wish to argue with her, not now. It was obvious she was feeling incredibly vulnerable and out of sorts. Why she'd request bloody Malfoy when her best mates were prepared to care for her was a question he refused to pose.
Luna carefully prodded Harry's hip and her blue eyes flicked to his zip. It amused her to see Harry blush and tug the zipper into its proper place. They rode the lift in relative silence, though the chatter of Hermione's teeth could be heard.
"Potter, we were just on our way—" Theodore Nott paused and squinted at the witch wedged into Luna's side. "Granger? What on earth?"
"Conference room," Hermione replied quietly.
Harry led the charge and his demeanour brooked no interference. The moment Hermione was seated, Harry stood guard at the door. Theo yanked a small notepad from the pocket of his drab blazer and placed a quill beside it. He was equipped with more than a little patience as far as traumatic witnesses were concerned and knew it was best to wait for them to speak without being prod.
"I'm assuming Weasley and Malfoy are on their way?" Theo gruffly addressed Harry.
"Haven't sent for Malfoy—"
"He's her partner. It is Ministry protocol for partners to be called to attendance in the event of an emergency. I believe this qualifies, Potter."
Harry scowled but dutifully sent his Patronus. His eyes narrowed as the stag took flight and he wished he could understand the bond between Hermione and Malfoy. It had taken him longer than it should have to realise his feelings toward Hermione were not romantic in nature, but the protectiveness he felt toward her hadn't waned.
"Mione!" Ron Weasley bounded into the conference room with a dopey smile that quickly fell. "Luna? Nott? W-what's going on? Hermione, are you alright?"
Hermione merely blinked and kept her lips firmly clamped together. She repeated the names and pieced together vague descriptions in order to keep herself calm. She hadn't the time nor the inclination to soothe Ronald Weasley while keeping herself in one piece.
"Pansy was the loudest," Hermione's low timbre voice filled the conference room as though she had shouted. "Daphne was the most compliant. Lavender was frightened. Astoria was disappointing. Ginny—" Hermione's voice shook and she paused.
"Hermione? W-what are you going on about?" Ron flopped into the chair across from her and reached for Hermione's hands.
"Take your time," Theo interjected and shot Ron an angry glare laced with warning.
"Ginny came the most," Hermione finally said.
"Weasley, I think it would be best—"
"No, I'm not leaving. I don't understand. My sister did what? Lavender? What the fuck is going on?" Ron stood angrily and pounded his fist on the table, which only set Hermione to shaking.
"Out!" Theo grasped Ron by the scruff of his neck and shoved him into the corridor. "Potter, keep Weasley out of there. Bind him if you must. This is a sensitive issue and as such will be handled by the Investigators until such time as Auror involvement is deemed necessary. I'm aware that she is your friend, but in this moment, she is a victim. I will not compromise this case or her mental acuity for the sake of friendship."
Harry's lips parted to argue, yet he knew he hadn't the right. As much as he wanted to be present, it would have interfered with Nott's job. It would also make things that much more difficult for Hermione and Harry refused to take part in that.
"What would you like us to do?" Harry asked instead.
"The women she listed. I'd like you to retrieve them and escort them to the Victim's Chambers. If possible, keep them separated and record any signs of distress. I'll send Smith to interview them."
"Smith," Ron scoffed. "He's such a wanker."
"Perhaps, but he's adept at his job. Let him do it. If anything comes from this and there's a suspect, I'll be sure to contact the Aurors posthaste," Theo sighed heavily. "Oi, Malfoy, in here please."
The moment Draco Malfoy burst through the conference room door, Luna Lovegood stood. She gently patted Hermione's shoulder and kissed her cheek. She had an intuitive nature and knew that her presence was no longer necessary. The door clicked shut behind her and she felt the hum of magic as it was warded against interruptions.
Theo resumed his seat at the head of the table and simply observed. He had taken interest in Hermione's lips. Their barely perceptible movement had captured his eye and it was then he realised she was simply repeating her statement over and over.
"Nott," Draco inclined his head slowly.
He inhaled deeply and the rumble of a growl quickly filled the silence. He could taste the evidence of her arousal on his tongue, but it was laced with something else. He could smell someone else and his fingernails dug into his palms.
"Malfoy, we've got a situation," Theo decided to take the helm before his mate's temper reared its terrifying head.
"Granger?" Draco questioned through clenched teeth, his darkened grey eyes never leaving her.
"Pansy was loud.. Daphne was easy. Lavender was scared. Astoria was bad. Ginny was a whore," Hermione chanted and rocked slowly in the creaky Ministry chair.
"I believe she was assaulted," Theo offered. "She hasn't said more than a handful of words beyond those few sentences. The women in question are being retrieved. Smith is slated to interview them."
Draco nodded and rounded the conference table with decisive steps. He was hesitant to approach her, but something needed to be done. His hand hovered over her shoulder and he looked to Theo for guidance. Of course, he received nothing in return other than an exaggerated shrug. He finally squatted beside her and covered her trembling hand with his own.
"Pansy, Daphne, Lavender, Astoria, Ginny, is that right?" Draco whispered.
He was unprepared for the whirlwind of brown curls or the force of her body as it crashed into his. Her arms locked around his throat and Draco landed on his bum in his efforts to catch her. He'd never seen her in such a state.
"What the fuck did he do to her?" Draco growled. "I can smell him on her, cloyingly sweet with traces of Floo Powder."
"Don't kill me, but I used Legilimency on her. Her memory's been altered. How she remembered a list of names is beyond my capabilities," Theo sighed and returned to his notepad.
Hermione clawed at the back of Draco's neck, desperate to be closer. She could feel his heart pound against her chest and it wasn't nearly close enough. She shifted her hips and dropped her knees to the floor, effectively pinning Draco beneath her.
"Granger," Draco sputtered.
His arms came around her and he bit his lip to keep the groan at bay. Her soft breasts flattened against him and he struggled to maintain his composure. With incredible difficulty, Draco got to his feet with Hermione still wrapped around him.
"Malfoy, you best sit," Theo hastily pushed a chair in his mate's direction and felt much better once Malfoy was seated.
"Get him off me," Hermione whimpered. Draco immediately released her only for her to keen in distress. "I can't get him off me. I can't remember. I can smell him. I can feel his fingers t-touching me. Get him off me!"
Theo's quill scratched across his notepad as he attempted to record her every word. He didn't raise his head when Draco drew his wand, nor when the Scourgify was cast. Theo supposed that wasn't what Granger had meant, but it would have to do.
He was completely uncomfortable with the situation. This was Hermione Granger. If she was vulnerable to attack, no one was safe. The sound of sobs dragged him from his reverie and he squirmed in his chair. Theo decided it was probably best to vacate the conference room.
"I've got you. I've got you," was the only sound that floated to his ears as the door swung closed behind him.
Dedisco = forget