Birth of a Dark Lord by Seelvor

Rating: NC17
Genres: Drama, Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 7
Published: 08/01/2009
Last Updated: 08/01/2009
Status: Completed

Harry becomes exactly what he should be after Dumbledore's manipulations. Rating for sexual
content and language




1. Birth of a Dark Lord
-----------------------

*He lay facedown, listening to the silence. He was perfectly alone. Nobody was watching.
Nobody else was there. He was not perfectly sure that he was there himself.*

Slowly, he sat up, looking around the area. A perfectly formless white light filled his vision
for as far as he could see. With a frown, he stood up, looking around. This was most certainly
*not* what he was expecting when he let Voldemort hit him with another *Avada Kedavra*.
He was expecting... *something*, not a shapeless, faceless mass.

“Harry...” A voice said from behind him, prompting him to turn around quickly. What he
saw...

“Dumbledore?”

“Yes.” The old man broke into a smile. “You wonderful boy! You brave, brave man! Let’s take a
walk, Harry.”

Harry didn’t move. “You’re dead.”

Dumbledore nodded, smiling happily. “Yes.”

“So I’m dead now?”

“Ah, not quite.” The old man’s eyes twinkled. “You stand on the cusp, Harry. You can go on or
you can go back. The choice is yours.”

Harry nodded, and slowly fell into step next to him. There was silence for a few moments, until
Dumbledore spoke. “I imagine you have questions, Harry. I know, if I were in your place, I’d have
questions.”

“Several.” Harry shot back. “I’m just figuring out where to start.”

With an amiable nod, Dumbledore said, “Take as long as you need. In this place, there is no
time. What happens here will have no effect on the waking world.”

After a moment, Harry decided on his first topic. “Let’s talk about Horcruxes, shall we?”

Dumbledore nodded. “An excellent place to begin.” He steepled his fingers together. “As you
know, Tom made his Horcruxes, starting right at the end of his Hogwarts career. The diary. Then he
made the Ring, Locket, the Goblet, the Diadem, yourself and Nagini. When he fled from Godric’s
Hollow in 1981, the final Horcrux he was planning to make backfired, and that piece of sheared off
soul rushed into the only thing that would support it. You.”

Harry nodded, his eyes narrowing imperceptibly. “So... I’ve been a Horcrux since 1981?”

“Indeed.”

“And you knew?” The accusation in Harry’s voice was impossible to miss.

Dumbledore hesitated, then nodded. “Yes.” He said heavily.

“I remember... back in second year... you said that night, when Voldemort came for the
Potters... ‘he transferred some of his own powers to me the night he gave me the scar’. That’s what
you said.”

“I did.”

“But... he didn’t just give me some of his powers or abilities... I got a piece of his
soul.”

Again, Dumbledore nodded.

“You knew, all this time, that I had a piece of this bastard’s soul attached to mine, and you
did *nothing*?”

“What would have had me do, Harry?” Dumbledore asked feebly.

“Remove it!” Harry roared. “How about bloody tell me?”

Dumbledore blanched. “How, Harry? How could I just come up to you and say ‘Harry, you have to
die in order to defeat Voldemort?’” The old man’s eyes filled with tears. “You have no idea of the
burden I’ve had to carry.... I told you, back when Sirius was killed, that I fell into the trap of
caring for you too much.”

Harry held up his hand, prompting Dumbledore to stop speaking. “You forget, old man... Snape
gave me his memories. I saw the conversations you had with him last year. You told him that I
couldn’t be told, not until the very last minute. You didn’t trust me. You led me around by the
nose, and I just let you.”

“Harry, stop a moment.” Dumbledore said firmly. “You are not dead. You have destroyed all of
Voldemort’s Horcruxes. Yes, I had plans regarding your life, but it was for the good of all of us
that it be done this way. Once Voldemort has been defeated, you’ll be free to live your life.”

There was no response. Dumbledore glanced down at his young comrade, seeing him frowning in deep
thought. “How much of my life has been orchestrated by you, old man?”

“What do you mean?”

Harry ignored the question. “First, it was you that put me with the Dursleys... you knew they
treated me very badly, but that probably played into your plans, didn’t it? I came from there an
emotionally abused child, pathetic in my yearning for acceptance. You used that, didn’t you?”

“My boy-”

“I’m most definitely *not* your boy. And tell me the truth.”

“What you ask-”

Harry grabbed Dumbledore by the throat, squeezing intently. “Tell me the truth,” He commanded in
a low voice, “or I swear I’ll destroy your soul for eternity!”

Dumbledore reached up, tugging futilely at Harry’s hand. After a moment of wheezing, he nodded
feebly. Harry released Dumbledore’s throat, stepping back. “I want an oath, based on the
destruction of your soul if you lie.”

“I do... not have a wand.” Dumbledore gurgled.

“Then do it without one.” Harry said through gritted teeth.

“I, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, swear on pain of my soul being obliterated for all
eternity, that I will answer the questions Harry James Potter puts to me with no lie or
prevarication.”

Harry nodded. “Did you want me to be abused as I grew up?”

Dumbledore winced; the first question was one he really didn’t want to answer, but the oath gave
him no choice. “Yes. You’d be far more malleable if you were mistreated as a child.”

“Right... that’s why you said you knew you’d be ‘condemning me to ten dark and difficult
years’.” Harry said bitterly. “But that’s what you wanted. A malleable child.” He sighed. “The
traps for the Philosopher’s Stone... was it just coincidence that they were perfect for three first
years?”

Damn... another question he didn’t want. “No. They were designed just after Christmas, when it
became clear that you, Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley had formed a trio friendship. Each of the tasks
was selected for you.”

“And was it just a test? Make sure that I can withstand Voldemort?”

“I preferred to think of it as ‘allowing you to test your strength’.” Dumbledore said weakly.
“You needed these tests, Harry. It was the only way to prompt you to better yourself.”

Harry seethed silently for a moment. “Second year... did you know the Basilisk was possessing
Ginny Weasley.”

Bollocks... that was a third. “Yes. As soon as she brought the diary through the wards, I was
notified of it’s presence. Since Voldemort was the only one who has made a Horcrux is recent
history, I knew it was one of his. Again, I was allowing you to hone yourself in battle.”

“I nearly died!” Harry roared. “And what about Fawkes? Why did he come down?”

“I told you at the time.” Dumbledore said softly.

“Let’s assume you were lying to me.” Harry snapped. “As I believe you were. If Fawkes could come
down to me, he could have brought you as well. Why didn’t he?” He didn’t give the old man the
chance to respond. “No, let me guess; ‘I was allowing you to test your strength’, right?”

Dumbledore nodded weakly.

Harry sighed. “And Sirius... actually, that’s a thought. Hagrid told me that Sirius was there at
Godric’s Hollow, and he was under orders to deliver me to the Dursleys. Who the hell gave you the
right to keep me away from my Godfather?”

“It was necessary that you live with the Dursleys, Harry.”

“Right, right... ‘the Greater Good’ again. If I was raised by a loving godfather, I wouldn’t
depend on you at all. Okay, that I understand. Next; the Tri-Wizard. Did you deliberately keep me
in it?”

Dumbledore sighed in defeat. “Yes. Since it was an ICW-sponsored event, as the Supreme Mugwump,
I could have ended the tournament, allowing you to not participate. Again, though, I believed that
allowing you to compete would help harden you.”

“And again, could possibly get me killed. Then the third task... wait a minute!” Harry stared at
Dumbledore, accusation running rampant across his face. “Your office... after the third task...
when I told you that he took my blood, you looked dead smug for a second... you knew!”

“Yes. I knew that by taking your blood, it would connect the two of you even further.”
Dumbledore admitted. “I knew the bond would only escalate and grow. That was crucial to the success
of the plan.”

“You lied to me.”

“I did.”

“And that summer, you imposed a communication block on me. Why? Was that part of your plan to
keep me dependent on you, even though you wouldn’t speak to me?”

“In a word, yes.”

Harry sighed, slumping backwards. Instead of sitting on the floor, he found himself on a hard
bench. Dumbledore stopped, seeing Harry sitting on something and sat down next to him. “You must
understand, Harry, there was no other way-”

“Can it.” Harry interrupted. “I’ve not finished yet.” Dumbledore nodded warily. “So, that year,
when Umbitch was torturing me with that damned Blood Quill, did you know?”

“Yes.”

“And that was also to ‘harden’ me?”

“Yes.”

“And during sixth year, you took ages to show me those memories, when we could have gone through
them all in one night. You just didn’t want me to learn too much, did you?”

Dumbledore winced. “No... if you became too knowledgeable or powerful, you wouldn’t die at the
right time. Your death was crucial to everything.” Dumbledore spoke a little more confidently as he
got into the virtues of his plans. “By dying, as you have now, you have destroyed all of
Voldemort’s protection. He is mortal and vulnerable. There will never be a better time.”

Harry sat silently. “There’s more, isn’t there? Tell me about the Order of the Phoenix.”

Dumbledore blinked. “The Order was created by myself in 1964 to combat the threat of Voldemort.
I selected-”

“I don’t want a bloody history lesson!” Harry hissed angrily. “I want to know their orders
regarding me.”

“Ah...” Dumbledore’s face was a mask of pain as he gathered his thoughts, before sighing. “The
Order was watching over you from the day I left you on the doorstep of Privet Drive. From time to
time, they stepped in, ensuring that certain things happened to you at the right time. Sometimes,
they’d prompt your Uncle to beat you, other times they’d stop him. They were also partially
responsible for you having no friends as you grow up. It was a program designed to isolate
you.”

“But... Dudley was the one-”

“Use of the Imperius curse can cause wonders.” Dumbledore said softly.

Harry’s jaw dropped as the ‘leader of the light’ admitted to using the Unforgiveable curses on
an impressionable child. “You... never mind. What about while at Hogwarts?”

“You are aware of some of the Order members’ identities. Professor McGonagall was made aware of
the plan and has been helping me all this time. Back in your first year, she knew that Professor
Quirrell was going for the Philosopher’s Stone. She was ordered not to interfere.” Seeing that
Harry had a face like thunder, Dumbledore tried to save his friend. “She never wanted to hurt you,
Harry. She wanted you able to survive. She didn’t agree with-”

“Irrelevant.” Harry snapped, interrupting the old man. “It doesn’t matter if she wanted to or
not. The fact is she *did*.” He huffed. “Let’s cut to the chase; who actually *was* my
friend? Not on orders or compulsions. Who actually cared about me on their own?”

Dumbledore sighed. “Of your close circle friends, they were all reporting your actions, emotions
and feelings to me. Miss Lovegood, Mr. Longbottom and Mr. Weasley were all more concerned about the
destruction of Voldemort than you as a person. However, Miss Granger refused to participate, and
had to be... prompted. The Imperius curse and memory charms were used. She actually managed to
destroy my office back in second year, just as you did in your fifth. However, having someone as
close to you as she was without suitable control was unacceptable. She is loyal to you.”

Harry nodded, a small smile on his face. “And what about Ginny? Did she care for me, as she said
she did?”

“Possibly.” Dumbledore said. “However, she was indoctrinated with your story from a young age.
In effect, she was programmed to love you. You saving her in the Chamber of Secrets only cemented
that.”

“So, she was part of the plan, too?”

“We... pushed you and her together because you were becoming too driven. We needed you
distracted. So, Miss Weasley was told of the plan. I believe after all the modifications we made to
her psyche, she had no other choice.”

“And can these modifications be undone?” Harry asked.

“I’m afraid not. The damage done by Tom Riddle during her possession has made that impossible.
She will forever love the ‘Boy-Who-Lived’.”

“What about Remus? Tonks?”

“All part of the plan. Remus was told to keep away until the right time. It wouldn’t do for you
to have friends or mentors that I hadn’t authorised. Tonks was one of those selected as a potential
romantic interest. However, when it became clear that she was unsuitable, she was free to pursue a
relationship with Remus.”

Harry again nodded, making mental notes. “What else? Was Cho part of your plans?”

“No. The reason your relationship with her failed was because of our interference. Again, we
couldn’t have anyone being close to you without proper control. Whenever you and she were alone, an
Order member would use charms to make her cry.”

Harry’s jaw dropped. “You just destroyed a relationship because you didn’t like it?”

“Yes.” Dumbledore didn’t look repentant in the slightest. “She wouldn’t have been suitable for
you.”

“That wasn’t your place to decide!” Harry roared. “How dare you?”

“It was necessary.” Dumbledore repeated.

“Let’s shelve this topic for the moment.” Harry grunted. “Let’s talk about the Deathly Hallows,
shall we? Since I disarmed Draco, and he disarmed you, that makes me the Master of the Elder Wand,
doesn’t it?”

“It does. You possess the Cloak of True Invisibility and the Resurrection Stone. You are the
Master of the Hallows, Harry. You are the Master of Death.” Dumbledore sighed. “Can you forgive me
for not telling you?”

“Forgive you?” Harry repeated, his face expressionless.

“Yes... I... I was tempted by the Deathly Hallows. I knew that the power to become the Master of
Death was alluring, but when I was chasing the Hallows... I felt invincible. I... I knew that I
couldn’t be trusted with such power. I didn’t want you to fall to the same temptation as I
did.”

“But I’m their Master now...” Harry said softly.

“You are. And a better man for them I could not ask.” Dumbledore said.

Harry’s grin was decidedly predatory. “Excellent.”

“Harry?”

When Harry looked back at Dumbledore, the old man was taken aback by the *mali**ce* he
saw in those green eyes. “Harry?”

“Oh, you’ve got what you wanted, Dumbledore.” Harry stood up, stretching his arms out. “I’ll
defeat Voldemort. I’ll kill him stone dead.”

Dumbledore also stood. “Harry, you mustn’t let the temptation go to your head.”

“Silence.” Harry said imperiously, holding up his hand. “You should be proud, Dumbledore. I’m
going to become exactly what you made me.” Harry closed his eyes, willing himself back to the
mortal world, leaving a shaking and pale Dumbledore behind.

**--BOADL--**

Harry could feel himself lying on the floor of the Forbidden Forest, his body aching from the
mild injuries he’d picked up when slumping to the ground.

“Is he dead?” Voldemort asked. “Someone check him.”

A moment later, a blonde head appeared just over Harry’s. She reached down for a pulse, barely
able to contain her surprise when she felt one.

“Is Draco alive? Is he in the castle?”

Harry recognised the irritating voice of Narcissa Malfoy. “Yes.” He whispered, almost
soundlessly. *But not for long... he shall be one of the first.*

Narcissa’s face vanished from Harry’s view. “He is dead, my lord.” She announced proudly.

There was an evil chuckle as Voldemort realised he’d won. “Who shall carry him back... you, oaf!
You shall carry him back.”

Harry felt a pair of large hands gently raise him up. “‘Arry...” Hagrid’s gruff voice said
tenderly.

The walk through the forest and the grounds passed quickly, as Harry focussed on all the
information he’d learned while in Limbo. He heard Voldemort speaking, but didn’t bother to listen.
He knew that he’d win. It was impossible for him to fail now. He heard McGonagall scream in
absolute despair, but Dumbledore’s revelation prevented him from feeling bad.

He heard Neville step forward, intent on killing Voldemort himself. He could feel the magic of
Voldemort’s summoning charm as he called the Sorting Hat, intent on the artefact’s destruction. The
Sword of Gryffindor sang to him as it was called, ending the threat of Nagini once and for all.

He could see, feel and hear the Death Eaters charge into Hogwarts, the battle resuming itself.
Once he was alone on the muddy grass, he sat up, reaching under his shirt for the invisibility
cloak. He flung it around himself, before hauling himself to his feet. In his sleeve was Malfoy’s
wand, although it didn’t really matter. As the Master of the Elder Wand, he could summon that at
any time.

He followed the group into the castle, heading straight for the Great Hall, where the bulk of
the fighting was taking place. He could hear the maniacal laughter of Bellatrix LeStrange as she
battled Molly Weasley, but he had no interest in that fight. As far as he was concerned, both of
them could kill each other and he wouldn’t even blink. No... he wanted Riddle.

Once inside the Great Hall, Harry could see Slughorn, McGonagall and Kingsley Shacklebolt all
duelling Voldemort, none of them managing to get a good hit in, but they were able to keep him
off-balance. Unfortunately for them, none of them could defeat the Dark Lord. Only Harry.

Standing in the middle of the Hall, Harry raised Malfoy’s wand. A simple banishing charm sent
Voldemort’s opponents hurtling away, making Voldemort stop.

“What...” Voldemort looked around for a moment, looking for targets.

Harry whipped off the invisibility cloak, smirking evilly at Voldemort. “Hello, Tom.”

At those two words, every fight in the Great Hall, bar the LeStrange/Weasley duel, ended at
once. Every eye turned to face Harry Potter.

“Potter...” Voldemort hissed, unconsciously taking a step back. “You live.”

“I do.” Harry span the cloak round his hand, screwing it up into a rough ball, which he tapped
with his wand, shrinking it, and pushing it into his pocket. “Well, I’ve had a hell of a day, Tom.
How about you?”

Voldemort snarled as he raised his wand. “You cannot defeat me, Potter. I have the Elder
Wand.”

Harry nodded slowly. “You have it, yes... but you are not it’s master.”

“I killed Snape! I am the Master! Bow to me!”

“I don’t think so.” Harry scoffed. “Dumbledore was disarmed before Snape ever got there. He was
not the Master of the Elder Wand. It was Draco Malfoy, a person who never touched the Elder Wand.
Since I disarmed Malfoy, that makes *me* the Master.” He extended his hand, mentally calling
the wand to him.

The look of shock on Voldemort’s face was priceless as the wand was torn from his fingers,
soaring to it’s true master. Harry glanced at Malfoy’s wand, then threw it at Voldemort.

“You know... I was gonna have a whole speech about how love is the ‘power the Dark Lord knows
not’... but I don’t think I can be arsed now. Instead, I’ll just say one thing.”

Voldemort snatched up the Hawthorne wand, hoping to at least take Potter with him. “Oh?” He
didn’t wait for a response. Aiming the wand, he shouted, “*Avada Kedavra!*”

Harry yawned as the green curse sped towards him. With a seeker’s skill, he moved the tip of the
Elder Wand to catch the spell, holding it on the end before flinging it back. Voldemort’s eyes
widened as he saw his curse coming back towards him, his body freezing as a flashback of sixteen
years ago overtook him. The spell hit, flinging him back into the wall of the Hall. His body
cracked as bones shattered, leaving him to slowly slide to the ground.

For a moment, there was silence. The Master of Death had defeated the Dark Lord. Several people
began rushing towards Harry, hoping to get there and congratulate him. People crowded round him,
chanting his name, patting him on the back.

Harry grit his teeth and decided to wait. He’d have his time.

**--BOADL--**

The bodies had been gathered. Laid side by side like cordwood in a temporary morgue. The House
Elves were already beginning repairs on the castle. It was a time for sadness and grief. And Harry
intended to make certain that there was plenty of sadness and grief to go around.

Kingsley had been announced as the interim Minister of Magic. Since he’d been nothing but loyal
to the true ideals of government, it was determined he was the best candidate for the job.

While everyone else was searching for their loved ones, Harry took Hermione up to the Room of
Requirement, intent on having a little chat with her.

Once inside at the room sealed, Harry spun round. “Okay, Hermione, spill. What’s going on with
you and Ron?”

Hermione blinked. “Er... well... I don’t know, really. Sometimes he bugs me, sometimes he
doesn’t. It’s... confusing.”

Harry closed his eyes, ‘requiring’ a Pensieve. It appeared on a pedestal in between the two of
them. “I’ve got a memory I want you to watch, Hermione. We’ll talk afterwards, okay?”

Suitably intrigued, Hermione nodded. She waited while Harry pulled the silvery strand from his
temple, dropping it into the runic bowl. When Harry nodded, she bent over, pressing her face
against the silvery substance. Her body froze as her mind was summoned into the memory.

Harry, on the other hand, had a *fantastic* view of her bottom as she was leaning over.
*Good god... why didn’t I ever do something about her?* Having a nasty thought, Harry raised
the Elder Wand, pointing it directly at his face. “*Finite Incantatum*.” He muttered quietly.
Instantly, he could feel memory blocks in his mind begin to crumble, the new/old memories beginning
to assimilate into his consciousness. He saw all the times he’d been on a date with Hermione during
fourth year, only to have a smiling Professor Dumbledore *Obliviate* him. The times he’d seen
or learnt something he shouldn’t have, only to have a teacher or an Order member remove that
knowledge.

The memory that really got his goat was one of him and Hermione, at the Burrow, enjoying a hot
and heavy intimate moment. Molly Weasley appeared, ranting heavily as she raised her wand.
*Damn... how long have we been like this?*

Hermione straightened up suddenly, spinning round to face Harry, her face a mask of terrible
anger. “How long?” She snapped.

“I found this out about an hour ago.” Harry said. “According to what Dumbledore said, you’ve
been used since second year.”

Hermione could only let out a scream of frustrated anger. After a few moments of panting, she
looked at Harry. “That’s some kind of super wand, isn’t it?”

“Supposed to be, yeah.”

“Can it remove these bloody compulsions?”

“Just did on me.” Harry said, tapping his temple lightly. “Wasn’t just you.” At Hermione’s
emphatic hand-gesture, he cast another *Finite.* Hermione blinked, then wobbled slightly on
her feet.

Harry rushed over, gently bracing Hermione and pushing her onto a newly-required chair. She sat
down weakly, closing her eyes as she was assaulted by a wave of memory. Finally, she looked up,
tears in her eyes. “Why?” she whispered.

“I don’t know.” Harry knelt down in front of her. “Do you remember... fourth year?”

“We snogged on our Hogsmeade dates.” Hermione said, smiling softly at him. “You’re a hell of a
kisser, Harry. I don’t know why Cho... no, wait... I do know. Bloody hell...”

Harry smirked. “I also remember you’ve got quite a potty-mouth on you, too.”

“You love it, you disgusting little pervert.” Hermione said with a fond smirk.

“No denying that.”

Hermione sighed. “What happens now, Harry? I mean... I don’t think we were ever supposed to know
this.”

“Well...”

“You have a plan?”

Harry nodded slowly. “I was planning on becoming the new Dark Lord, to be honest. If the ‘Light’
can do this to people, I don’t think I want to be on their side.”

Hermione nibbled her bottom lip for a moment. “You think you can find a spot for a Dark Lady?
After all, you know what they say; ‘behind every great man-’”

“There’s a woman rolling her eyes?” Harry completed, ducking to avoid her swat.

“Prat.”

“I think the two of us could be a very good Dark Lord and Lady. There’s quite a list of people
to kill, maim and torture.” Harry smirked, making Hermione shiver as she looked upon the new
malevolence on his face. “What?” Harry asked, feeling her shudder.

“Damn, that’s sexy!” Hermione gasped. “Oh my... I find an evil Harry sexy... what shall I do?”
She stood up, wrapping an arm around his neck while her other hand began stroking at his crotch. “I
could do this...”

“Teasing wench.”

“You know it... I could stop.”

“Don’t you dare...”

Harry’s hands quickly moved round to Hermione’s butt cheeks. He now-remembered how much she
liked that. “Hello, globes of goodness.” He said softly, making Hermione smile.

“You remember.”

“I do now, yes.”

“Well, I remember my Mr. Hissy.” Hermione said, squeezing the now-much bigger bulge in his
jeans. “This explains all those dreams I had when I was fondling something, but I could never
remember what. I do now.” The hand around his neck dropped down to his waist and began fumbling
with the button.

“Hermione, are you sure about this?” Harry asked. “I don’t want to-” He was interrupted as
Hermione thrust herself forward, fusing their lips together. She ravaged his mouth for a good
thirty seconds before pulling back, panting lightly.

“Don’t you dare!” She snapped. “I want to fuck Mr. Hissy and that’s final. We’ve got years we’ve
missed out on, Harry, thanks to that manipulative old bastard. You’re hard, I’m fucking dripping
down my legs and we’re gonna shag.”

Harry, still holding Hermione’s bottom, span round, pushing her up against the wall. They kissed
again as Harry reached round the front, ripping the button off her jeans and pushing them down. He
could feel the wetness in the crotch of the jeans, knowing that it would be even better inside. She
moaned into his mouth as her jeans were pressed round her knees, her thong quickly following it
down.

She redoubled her efforts to get into his jeans, quickly unbuttoning them and forcing the zip
down. She grabbed his waistband and pushed down, happily noting that he was commando underneath.
She could feel the heat coming from Mr. Hissy, making her head swim with desire.

“How... do you... want it?” Harry asked in between kisses.

“From behind...” Hermione mumbled back. “Fuck foreplay, Harry... get that cock in me now!”

Harry spun her round, waited a moment for her to lean forward slightly and brace herself on the
wall, and positioned himself against her.

“Now!” Hermione shouted, then moaned as Harry thrust forward. She was so aroused, she began to
orgasm instantly, feeling herself squirt against the invader. “Come on, Harry, fuck me hard!”

Harry began thrusting in and out, holding her hips tightly as he moved quicker and quicker.
Hermione came again, and again, thrusting back onto him.

“Diddle yourself...” Harry gasped into her ear. “Now!”

Moaning, Hermione took one shaky hand off the wall, reaching down to touch herself. She didn’t
need to worry about wetting her finger... she’d already squirted about a litre onto Mr. Hissy.
Another orgasm overtook her, making her clench furiously on Harry.

“Cum in me!” She panted. “Please, Harry, cum in me!”

That was all Harry needed to hear as he let out a strangled moan, feeling his balls churning as
he orgasmed inside her. She mewed and moaned as she felt the burning heat of his sperm, driving her
to yet another orgasm.

Panting, she closed her eyes, ‘requiring’ an armchair to appear behind Harry. “Sit... sit down.”
She gasped, feeling his strong arms wrap round her waist as they fell backwards. She adjusted
herself slightly, so she could reach up and kiss Harry, intent on near-raping his mouth.

“Oh, god...” She muttered. “I needed that.”

The two spent a few moments cuddling, basking in their orgasms. Finally, Harry broke the
silence. “Well... that was fun.”

Hermione chuckled softly. “Yeah, it was. I hope it’s not over, though. We’ve got three years or
hormones to get through.”

“I know.”

She leaned down, kissing him tenderly. She grinned into his mouth. “You know... you’ve not even
touched my tits yet... and you remember how much I *love* that.”

Harry smirked. “In case you didn’t remember, you told me to ‘fuck foreplay... get that cock in
you now’.”

“Well, we’ve done that.” Hermione said, pulling off her t-shirt casually. “Now we can have some
foreplay.”

“It’s odd how you only use this language when we’re intimate.” Harry said teasingly.

“Like I said, Potter... you love it, ‘cause you’re a dirty pervert.” Hermione replied, just as
teasingly.

“I never said I didn’t... and we both remember that you’re far worse than I am.” He leaned
forward, pressing his tongue against her bra. Her nipples were already like bullets, straining
through the lacy fabric.

“Hang on...” Hermione reached behind herself, unclipping her bra and casually tossing it away.
“Now, please.”

Harry flicked his tongue over Hermione’s left nipple, making the girl mew in pleasure. She
wasn’t kidding when she said she loved it. Harry took the nipple into his mouth, gently closing his
mouth to take it between his teeth. He didn’t want to bit her, but nip her. Judging from the
sounds, Hermione was clearly enjoying it.

“You’re so good...” She moaned. “More...”

Harry reached up, rolling her other nipple in between the fingers on his left hand, while his
right hand reached between her legs, intent on rubbing her to yet another orgasm. Hermione was
reduced to panting like a thirsty dog as Harry expertly manipulated her flesh, driving her
relentlessly onwards. With a cry, she came hard, feeling herself squirt again on the rod of fleshy
steel inside.

She leaned down, hauling his head up for a passionate kiss. Again, she ravaged his mouth,
clenching her lower muscles. She pulled back slowly, staring into his eyes. “Want me to suck your
cock?” She asked, a coy smirk on her face.

“For the brightest, not to mention *sexiest* witch of our generation, Hermione... you can
ask some really silly questions, sometimes.” Harry teased. “Of *course* I want you to suck me.
I *loved* it when you did that.”

With a grunt, Hermione stood up, feeling the residue of Harry’s orgasm falling from her. The
floor would undoubtedly be a spectacular mess when they’d finished, but neither of them cared. She
quickly dropped to her knees, seeing Harry’s lap was a sloppy mess, a mixture of his and hers.

She leaned down, taking a long lick up his thigh. She looked up into his eyes, the predatory
smirk back on her face. “You’re so messy, Harry.” She said softly.

“That’s your fault.” Harry groaned. “You’re the one who squirted all over my lap...”

“And I’m the one who’s gonna lick it all up.” Hermione replied. “Now, lean back and let
Whoremione make it all better...”

Harry gasped as Hermione casually swallowed his entire length, bobbing up and down
expertly...

**--BOADL--**

Mere hours later, Harry and Hermione headed back down to the Great Hall, sporting identical
mussed-looks. They ignored the people they passed, heading straight for the stage. Kingsley
intercepted them.

“Ah, I’m glad you’re here. We’re gonna have a quick press conference. We need you to tell your
side of the story.” He said brusquely.

“Oh, I will.” Harry promised, a gleam in his eye. “I’ll tell them everything.”

Kingsley was unnerved by the look. “What do you mean ‘everything’?”

“Don’t worry, Mr. Minister.” Hermione said softly. “We’ll tell nothing but the truth.”

“O-Okay.” Kingsley said slowly. “If you’ll excuse me, I just need to see Professor
McGonagall.”

“Okay.” Harry and Hermione intoned together.

Minutes later, Kingsley was stood on the stage, handing clenching the podium. He’d checked with
McGonagall to make certain that Potter didn’t know anything that could hurt the Order. She’d
assured him that everything had been charmed and sealed away. They’d all be safe.

“People of Britain,” Kingsley began, a warm, happy smile on his face, “I’m pleased to be
standing here today, in a new world. A world without the threat of Lord Voldemort and the Death
Eaters. And this was all the thanks of just one young man. A young man who ended the Dark Lord
forever. Mr. Harry Potter.”

The audience clapped, cheered and whistled for the young hero. Harry stood up, near-jumping onto
the stage. He waited until Kingsley had sat down, before sending a discrete hand-gesture to
Hermione, who nodded slightly.

“I’ve been asked to tell my side of the story.” Harry said once the cheering had quietened down.
“So, I shall. I shall tell *everyone*... *everything*. It’s a truly fascinating tale. A
tale of mistreatment, abuse, starvation and neglect.” At that moment, Hermione leapt onto the
stage, raising her wand and casting a high-powered shield.

“In 1964, Albus Dumbledore began the Order of the Phoenix; a paramilitary vigilante group, aimed
at Voldemort. When Voldemort was disembodied in ’81, the Order was set to watch over me. You’d have
thought that it would be to protect me... it wasn’t. Instead, they began a program of abuse,
designed to make me vulnerable and reliant on Dumbledore.

“I was beaten, starved and abused on a daily basis, with the Order pulling the strings. People
like Professor McGonagall, Molly Weasley, Remus Lupin and Dumbledore himself. All of them making me
into the weapon that could defeat Voldemort.

“Then I came to Hogwarts... and the cycle of abuse continued. Snivellus Snape became involved,
casually using Legilimency on me, raping my mind, picking up every bad memory and using them
against me.”

Harry looked down at McGonagall, who was looking up at him guiltily, tears in her eyes. He
sneered at her. “Ah, Professor... you look so unhappy. What’s wrong?” His voice was cool and
malevolent.

“H-Harry... it was necessary... Dumbledore-”

“Was wrong!” Harry roared. “Promoting a cycle of abuse! I was a child. A *child!* What the
bloody fuck had I done to deserve that?”

“The Greater good...” McGonagall mumbled.

Harry just scowled. “All throughout my Hogwarts years, the cycle continued. My ‘friends’, people
controlled by Dumbledore to report on me and spy on me. The only person who was on my side was the
remarkable young woman next to me. During our second year, she was ‘drafted’ by the Order into
spying on me. She refused. However, that wasn’t right, according to Dumbledore and his minions.
So... they used the Imperius curse on her, turning her into nothing more than their little tool.
After each of her ‘reports’, she was Obliviated.

“Do you remember in fourth year? All those rumours about me and Hermione dating? They were true.
Of course, Dumbledore couldn’t allow me the opportunity to have a relationship that he didn’t
approve. During my fifth year, after having my memories erased, I began skirting the edges of a
relationship with Cho Chang... this was also sabotaged by Dumbledore and his Order. In sixth
year... Ginny Weasley was an authorised relationship. After all, Ginny knew that I wouldn’t be
happy unless I was chasing after Voldemort. Proof that the silly girl doesn’t know me at all.

“So... I’ve won. I wonder what plans the vaunted Order of the Phoenix has for me now? A loveless
marriage with a fan-girl? Some kind of program to produce a strong magical heir, reversing the
inbreeding in the magical world? Who knows? But, it doesn’t matter, really. I’m free of them now. I
have *all* my memories back. I know things that the Order really don’t want me to know. I
could destroy them all...”

Hermione cleared her throat, stepping next to Harry. “I should clarify something, really. It’s
not a case of ‘could’ destroy them all. We *will* destroy them all. You fucked with us...
we’re gonna fuck you all back ten fold.”

Harry let out a final smirk. “You all thought Voldemort was a cunt? Just watch what we do...” He
clasped Hermione’s hand, apparating them both away, leaving the occupants of the Great Hall
trembling in shock and fear.

The Master of Death had just declared war on the Magical World... and there was nothing anyone
could do to stop it.



