31 Days of Flash Fiction Repository

Summary: Short stories for 31 Days of Flash Fiction

Beta Love: Dragon and the Cold Water Bottle Torture, Dutchgirl01 the Busiest Bee that Ever Buzzed, Commander Shepard the Winter Soldier

A/N: Each story will be a separate chapter to feed my laziness and desire not to post that many new stories for the same event.

One Man's Mercy Is Another Man's Torture

Sweet mercy is nobility's true badge.

William Shakespeare

Prompt: "Stop," he said, his breathing ragged. "Please."

"You think I'd let you ruin my best mate's life just because you're a hero?" Harry growled as he crushed the effigy of Snape in his hand. "You think just because you loved my mother that I'd let you marry 'Mione and ruin Ron's life?"

"Stop," Snape wheezed, his breathing ragged. "Please."

"MAKE HIM BEG!" Ron cried. "FOR ALL THE SHITE HE PUT US THROUGH!"

"I think he's suffered enough," Harry said finally, putting the doll down.

As Harry set the doll down, he closed his eyes before walking away. "Go take 'Mione home."

As Harry left the room, Ron and Neville exchanged significant glances, and they both reached for the doll together.

When Ron and Neville came back up the stairs from the basement, they were immediately slammed into the walls by a pair of Unspeakables, their goblin silver gauntlets tightening around their throats as a low hiss emitted from their masked faces.

"Ronald Weasley and Neville Longbottom," Harry said heavily. "You are both under arrest for the willful torture of a war hero in a time of peace. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in Wizengamot. Anything you do say may be given in evidence."

"Whut—HARRY!" Ron cried. "That was YOUR doll!"

"It was my mum's," Harry said coldly. "And you used it to get under my skin. And you used her doll to figure out how to create effigies of others—like the Malfoys and any other people that you two decided hadn't suffered enough yet. And then you started playing judge and jury for anyone who bothered you by simply existing."

"It started with Rita Skeeter—someone no one would care about if she simply—disappeared. Maybe she even caught a whiff of what you were up to. So she had to go, didn't she? And then it was various petty criminals like Dung—dying off due to what most people assumed were post-war strains, untreated injuries, debilitating curses, and magical exhaustion. Stuff like that would seem perfectly normal and even expected, yeah? Once you realised that no one was bothering to look too closely, it became just that much easier, didn't it? And then you got so overconfident that you stopped paying close attention to what you left behind—"

Harry lifted a sealed evidence bag containing hairs, fabric, and pins. "By section 8-22-15 Lima, I hereby recuse myself from this case. I give full authority to the Unspeakables to process you so that no one can accuse me of playing favourites."

A shadow moved across the room, and everyone seemed to cringe instinctively. Malevolence rolled in like a fog bank that one could almost touch, and Dark curled around the floorboards and walls like it was alive and seeking.

Hermione moved into the room, carrying the body of Severus Snape in her arms like he weighed no more than her cloak. Her eyes were pure black save for a vivid ring of crimson, and a swath of blood had dried on her neck where a deep cut tore a path across her pale skin. Fresh blood marked Snape's mouth, a slight mask of blood marking where Hermione's blood had flowed across his mouth and skin.

Hermione's head jerked as her lips pulled back from her teeth in a snarl. "The next time my mate suggests using himself as bait, you will kick him squarely in the balls. Am I understood, Auror Potter?"

Harry grimaced. "I understand, Lady Hermione."

"And you—" Hermione hissed, her hand extended to Ron and Neville, one crystalline claw glistening with blood where she had cut her own throat.

The two men staggered forward, unable to stop themselves. Each had a growing spot of dampness spreading between their trembling legs. "I will deal with you both after the Wizengamot is finished with you. I. Promise. You. That."

She pricked her fingertip on her opposing claw and as the blood oozed up, she dragged her bloody finger across their gawping mouths. "You will tell them anything and everything they wish to know in excruciating detail."

The traces of blood seemed to shoot into their mouths as if it was a living thing, making it impossible for the pair to avoid swallowing it. They both shuddered.

"Yes, Master," they both drawled.

"Rejoice," Hermione said, her fangs bared as she traced Ron's lips with her talon. "You could be married to me." She cracked her neck with a jerk of her head. "Just imagine what fun that would be. Alas—you are far too young for me, mortal whelp. I do not lie with children. No matter how much they might beg."

Neville and Ron just trembled in place.

Hermione's lip curled as she turned her head to regard Harry with a crimson stare. "I will see you at the trial, Auror Potter."

Harry jerked his head affirmative as Hermione carried Snape out of the room. Her body and his disappeared into a whorl of mist, making not a sound.

Neville Longbottom and Ronald Weasley, Noted Heroes of the Wizarding War, Arrested for Use of Dark Magic, Creation and Use of Dark Artefacts to Torture and Murder Multiple Victims!

Augusta Longbottom and Molly Weasley Shamed At Appearance Before Wizengamot!

Augusta Longbottom Disowns Grandson Neville For Bringing Shame to Family Name!

Molly Weasley Accuses War Heroine Hermione Granger of Being Shameless Harlot and an Inhuman Monster In Front of Entire Wizengamot!

Lord Sanguini Challenges Molly Weasley To a Duel in the Middle of the Wizengamot Floor For Insulting His Beloved Wife!

Hermione lazily sprawled on the silken sheets as Severus fastened to her neck and Sanguini on her wrist. Her soft hiss of pleasure came in tandem with a glint of her pristine fangs.

In the middle of their pristine marble floor was a life size chess set with Nevilles on one side and Rons on the other, each piece dressed in the appropriate period attire from the Dark Ages. The pieces lay in disarray as the combat between the Rons and Nevilles seemed to be extra bloody. On each team, however, was a certain Molly Weasley piece dressed as both the king and queen and overlooking the carnage—only on one side, the king and queen lay slaughtered in all their gruesome glory and there were thick trails of blood where the "pieces" had dragged themselves off the board only to "die"quite dramatically.

"I suppose this is quite a sufficient birthday gift," Severus murmured into her neck as his glowing eyes looked over the evidence of wanton chess violence in their bedroom with supreme satisfaction.

"I told you, you'd develop a whole new love for chess," Sanguini said languidly as he gently licked the bite on Hermione's wrist, sealing it closed.

Severus sighed. "Even though it does remind me that our darling wife wanted to rip off my gonads for volunteering myself as bait."

Hermione sighed, flopping down between them. "I would like to sign off on this generation and skip on to something better."

"You're usually the one advocating for us to give each new generation a chance," Sanguini said with a chuckle.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You didn't have to be a teenager surrounded by all of—that," she said grimly.

"No, I was an ancient standing next to my mate every so often but unable to do the unspeakable things to her that my instincts demanded," Sanguini complained.

Hermione gave him a tender kiss. "Poor thing. I missed you too."

"Try having to insult her and make her cry in front of hundreds of young minds looking to me for an example of proper behaviour," Severus growled. "I wanted to stake myself."

Hermione touched his cheek. "I love you, and I still loved you even when you made me want to knee you in the balls."

Severus huffed. "Comforting."

Sanguini chuckled. "She's always loved crushing our balls, love," he recalled wistfully. "It's how we first met."

"You were both right arses," Hermione recalled. "And you deserved it."

Both men slumped.

"Can we just agree we were the products of our times?" Severus asked.

"Romans and Dacians were both trying to murder each other for as long as the sun rose and set," Hermione said. "It's a miracle you both survived to be my mates."

"Conquer, not murder," Severus observed.

"Murder comes with conquering, I fear," Hermione said with a chuckle. "But I love you both, you heathen barbarians."

"But YOUR heathen barbarians?" Severus rumbled.

"Always," Hermione agreed. "I meant my marriage vows."

Hermione squeaked as her mates pinned her to the bed as they growled together, "Good."

They sated themselves lustily upon her right in front of the frozen, horrified staring faces of the chess pieces that could not move or look away.

And they lived checkmated-ly ever after.