Crumple Horned Plot Bunnies

By Andrew J. Talon

Disclaimer: I do not and probably never will own Harry Potter or any other copyrighted works mentioned in this story. I am not writing this for profit.


A bit more serious take on The Grangers in Year 5...


Anton Dolohov arrives in his manor from the Floo, striding arrogantly. His second release from Azkaban had felt even worse than the last one, but this time it would be forever. He was finally back in his house, where his dog of a wife would be waiting for him-

He felt the sting of a bee on his neck, and slapped it. He drew his hand back, and found a dart. He puzzled about this... Before everything went black.

He woke up to the splash of cold water across his face. He sputtered and struggled against ropes tying him to a wooden chair and gagging his mouth.

A tall man in a suit with curly brown hair, and a beautiful dark-haired woman in a black dress stood in front of him, all in his kitchen.

"Ah, hello Mister Dolohov," the man said, "allow me to introduce myself. I am Dan Granger."

"I am his wife, Emma Granger," the woman said, curtseying.

"And you've met our daughter, Hermione," Dan stated.

Dolohov's eyes widened. Muggles?! They'd broken into his house-His House Elf-His wand-!

"I'm afraid your House Elf is out on an errand and will be for quite some time," Emma stated calmly, "your wife has learned of your affairs and has left, after we found a loophole in your marriage contract that allowed her to divorce you with no loss of magic."

"Not cricket, Mister Dolohov," Dan said, shaking his head, "trying to enslave a woman like that? Though given your lack of charm, I suppose that's to be expected."

Dolohov growled against his gag.

Emma removed the gag, and he spat on the floor.

"Do you beasts really expect to get anything out of me?!" Dolohov sneered, "you primitive Muggles can't harm me! I'm a wizard! A pureblood! I will make you beg for mercy and death when I'm done with you!"

"You don't seem to understand the situation, Mister Dolohov," Emma said calmly, "you have no skill with wandless magic. The drugs we've injected you with have dulled your mind enough that any serious casting of magic is out of the question. We have you completely at our mercy... And you tried to murder our daughter."

Dolohov's eyes widened. He licked his lips.

"I... Accidents like that are... Regrettable," he tried, "I'm sure we can talk this out? Come to an arrangement? I'm wealthy, after all-I could make this up to your... Your family?"

"Hm, not charming at all," Emma shook her head, "no wonder he needed Lucius Malfoy to talk for him."

"You bitch!" Dolohov growled, "if I'm feeling generous maybe I'll let the others have you for a plaything before you die, while your husband watches-!"

Faster than he could track, Emma pulled out a hammer and smashed Dolohov's right hand. He shrieked in pain as she methodically broke every finger bone, precisely, and calmly.

"AHHH!"

"Your casting hand," Emma said softly, as though speaking about the weather, "pity. The breaks I've made are quite complex, and hard to heal even with magic."

"You Muggle bitch!" Dolohov snarled. "When I get out of this-!"

"What makes you think you're getting out of this alive, Mister Dolohov?" Dan asked coldly, his eyes as hard as steel.

Anton stared back in horror. He was a cold stone killer, and he enjoyed killing the helpless. But running into another one... Into two... That was a different story.

Especially when they had him at their mercy... And a serious grudge.

Anton Dolohov was many things. But above all else, he was a coward.

"Y-You can't kill me! The-The Dark Lord will find out and he'll kill you-!"

"Maybe he will," Dan allowed, "but I sincerely doubt he would do it for you. He'd do it because he's a monster who enjoys killing. But even if he does? There are others who will come after us. Who won't stop until every one of you monsters is dead. Including him."

Dan's smile became extremely unpleasant.

"So rest assured, Mister Dolohov, you are going to die, and your comrades will be joining you in Hell. How that goes is entirely up to you."

Dolohov shivered, cold sweat pouring down his forehead.

"I-I can tell you things! Things about-The Dark Lord!" He said desperately, as the two opened up a suitcase and began to pull out various unpleasant looking implements. "Accounts! Names! Spells!"

"Yes, you will," Emma agreed.

"But other than trying to murder our daughter and her friends, and nearly succeeding," Dan said, as he turned a knife over in his gloved hands, "you're a very small fish in an exceedingly large pond. A link to a larger plan."

"So here is what is going to happen," Emma said, her smile predatory and terrifying, "you will tell us everything we want to know. If that information is useful enough, we might... MIGHT... Find it in our hearts to make your death quick and painless. Unlike the death you tried to inflict upon our daughter."

Dan handed her a drill. She turned it over and over in her hands. She tested it out, making it whirr ominously, and her smile grew.

"If not... Well."

Dolohov trembled.

"You Death Eaters are so uncreative with how you torture people to death," she cooed as she advanced on him.

"Crucio this, Crucio that! Here, let me give you a demonstration of how to make it into an art..."

"You were always the talented one, love," Dan said admiringly.

"Thank you, dear."

Dolohov started screaming. He didn't stop for a long time.


Hermione woke up to Harry standing over her. He was holding her hand in the dark Hospital Wing. His face was pale.

Hermione flushed, breathing hard. Her throat was sore. She felt mortified, confused... And above all else, frightened.

"I... I'm sorry," she mumbled, "I-the nightmare again-"

"Don't," Harry said quietly. He sat with her, resting on the bed holding her hand tightly. Nearby, Neville was still sleeping in his hospital bed. Ginny and Ron too were still under enchanted sleep, their injuries healing slowly. The Healers were confident they would make it, but seeing them in these beds, so pale and still, terrified Hermione.

Luna was the only one aside form Harry who had escaped serious injury, but she still slept in a cot here every night. That was comforting.

The Ministry Battle had been a disaster. Sirius, thankfully, had escaped death courtesy of a dragonhide armored vest the Grangers had gotten him, but Bellatrix had still nearly torn him apart with her curse.

Kingsley and Tonks were also in the hospital, still recuperating from Malfoy's curses.

Remus... Had not been as lucky. He'd fallen through a shroud, and vanished. The Veil of Death, they called it.

Harry had tried to save him, but had failed.

The Death Eaters had been arrested, but several had already been released. Or gone missing.

Harry blamed himself. Hermione wished he wouldn't. He hadn't left the Hospital Wing save to eat and maybe get a shower once or twice. Classes had been cancelled.

Harry struggled for a moment.

"Do... Do you want to talk about it?" He asked softly.

Hermione leaned against him, and enjoyed the hug he gave.

"... It's the same as the last few ones," she murmured. "Just... Exactly the same. Dolohov gets me... Ron and Ginny die to Bellatrix... Then Luna, by the Lestranges... Neville, killed by B-Bellatrix... Th-Then He gets you..." Tears began to pour down her cheeks. Harry remained silent, just holding her.

"It won't happen," Harry promised, "it will never happen."

"No, it won't," said a familiar voice. Hermione and Harry looked up. The Grangers walked in, moving as silently as they always did. Emma immediately went to Hermione's side and hugged her tightly, while Dan went to the other and hugged his daughter and Harry. Harry tried to move, but the two parents wouldn't let him.

"M-Mum? Dad?" Hermione whispered.

"It's okay baby, we're here," Emma murmured, resting her head atop Hermione's. "We're sorry we weren't here sooner."

"We're sorry we weren't there to help you at the Ministry, too," Dan said, his voice filled with regret, "we should have been there. Not you."

"It-It was my fault," Harry admitted, fighting his own tears of shame, "it was a trap, I led them into it-!"

"You rushed in to try and save someone you loved, tricked by the enemy," Dan said, and squeezed Harry's shoulder, "and that was a mistake. But it's an understandable one. Remus wouldn't want you to blame yourself-He'd want you to blame the bitch who killed him. That wasn't you, Harry. It wasn't any of you."

Harry's tears poured freely. Dan didn't say anything, he just kept hugging Harry, and Harry leaned into his touch. He felt Hermione and Mrs. Granger's hands on him too, all comforting him as he cried.

"A few of them got away," Hermione mumbled, "and a few were released-"

"Yes, we know," Emma said quietly, "we've taken care of a few."

Hermione blinked.

"You've... Taken care of...?" Hermione tried.

Emma smiled darkly.

"Mum?"

Emma pulled a photo out of her dress, and held it up. Hermione stared at a picture of Anton Dolohov, tied to a chair, looking terrified. It was a wizarding photograph, so the Dolohov in the picture was moving.

More specifically, he was screaming as a shadow fell over him and-

Emma carefully tucked the photo away, looking away from Hermione.

"Nobody but nobody tries to kill my daughter or her friends, and gets away with it," she stated grimly.

Hermione looked up at her father in disbelief.

"Dad? What's Mum talking about?"

Dan allowed himself a sigh. He gave his daughter a wan smile.

"Hermione... I think we need to have a talk..."


The row that had ensued had been horrifically bad. Harry had seen some arguments before-He'd been between Ron and Hermione often enough, after all. But this argument between Hermione and her parents had been... Ugly.

Her parents had been grimly calm throughout. Harry had tried to stay out of it, but then Hermione had pulled him in.

"Harry! You-You can't agree with this!" Hermione cried desperately, "even after everything-You can't agree that killing the Death Eaters is the answer, can you?!"

Harry had thought about this question a lot. Running the DA, his life to date... And now this prophecy. He took a deep breath, and looked her in the eyes.

"... If it was to keep any of you from dying? If it had kept Remus from dying?" Harry nodded once. "Yes. I would."

Hermione's eyes had teared up again, and she stared at him in horror. It made him feel guilty, but he didn't back down. Couldn't.

"How... How can you say that?" Hermione whispered.

"Because I've already killed," Harry stated simply. Hermione gaped. "Quirrel," he explained, "in first year. With my bare hands."

Hermione's mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. Harry didn't want to go further, but...

"I read up on him, after," Harry said softly, "he was single, his parents were dead. He'd been great at Hogwarts, but obsessed with studies into dark magic. Wanted to rewrite the theory, revolutionize things when it came to dark magic. He was an oddball, but very smart. He was ambitious, didn't have a girlfriend or anything. He was all in for it. He heard about dark creatures in Albania, and went there..."

Harry huffed out a breath.

"By all accounts, he wasn't a bad person... But he still fell to Voldemort. Still became his slave. And the only way to stop him... Was to kill him. And I did that."

"Harry," Hermione whispered.

"I've wondered if I could have saved him. Done something different," Harry admitted, "but I can't think of any other way... So yes, Hermione. I have killed to protect people. And if it meant saving you? I would do it again."

He nodded to Hermione's parents.

"I don't blame them for doing it to Dolohov, because he'll never hurt you, or anyone else again."

"H-How... But you...! It's murder! Why would you agree with that?!"

"Hermione-" Dan tried, but she pulled away from him.

"You're murderers! My parents are murderers!"

Harry could see Emma wince. Dan looked in pain.

By the end, Hermione had been nearly hysterical, and Madam Pomfrey had come in and given her a Sleeping Draught. Well, forced it on her. She fell into the enchanted sleep, her brows still knit tightly, her face still horrified.

Dan Granger let out a silent breath, and sat down in a nearby chair. He slumped down, looking exhausted and old instead of poised and confident, as he always did. Emma sat in a chair next to him, looking just as weary.

Madam Pomfrey had left, shooting glares at them, but kept her comments to herself for once.

Harry looked across Hermione's sleeping form, still holding her hand.

"She's an idealist," Dan commented with a thin smile, "I always admired that about her. Wanting to do better. Make the world a better place."

"Me too," Harry murmured.

Emma bowed her head.

"... We didn't want her to know about our pasts," Emma said softly. "Sometimes we had to do... Terrible things. Because if we didn't, innocent people would end up dead. I can't claim to be a saint, but... I never took anyone's life I didn't have to... Though even then..." She trailed off.

Dan sighed softly.

""What infinite heartsease, must kings neglect that private men enjoy," he murmured. Harry frowned.

"Shakespeare?" He asked. Dan nodded, his smile pale but approving.

"Henry V. Having the responsibility for so many people's welfare means that a king... Or anyone in a position of power... Must at times take terrible actions to safeguard that welfare." He looked down at his daughter in love, and stroked her cheek. "Children... Change your world. You want to make the world a good place, a safe place, for them to grow up in. But the things you have to do for that..." He closed his eyes.

"No, I understand," Harry said quietly. Dan and Emma looked at him. Emma nodded slowly.

"Yes, I think you do," she said quietly. "It's in your eyes. You... Didn't get a childhood, did you Harry?"

Harry stared back.

"... No. Not really," he admitted.

"Neither did we," Dan said, squeezing his wife's hand. "We wanted Hermione to have one neither of us got. Happy, safe, looking at the world with wonder instead of fear and terror." He looked down at her. "As long as she's happy, alive..." He took another breath, "even if she hates us... But she's happy and alive... I can accept that."

"As can I," Emma nodded.

Harry shook his head.

"She... She doesn't hate you," Harry said. "She's scared. Everything she thought she knew is wrong. And she is an idealist, just like you said. But she's not dumb. She'll... Be stubborn, and unhappy, but... She'll understand."

Harry sighed.

"And it helps... That I wish like hell we didn't need to kill to protect others."

"So do we, Harry," Emma said quietly, reaching out to squeeze his hand. "So do we."


This idea can be comedy, it can be wholesome, and it can be dark drama. So give it a shot for yourself!