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Hermione's Stalker by LilPrincess48
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Hermione's Stalker

LilPrincess48

Title: Hermione's Stalker

Author: LilPrincess48

Disclaimer: Santa Baby, slip Harry Potter under the tree, for me. I've been such a good girl! Santa baby, I wanna own Harry Potter to-night!

Author's Note: Guess what? I have over 13 things in common with Daniel Radcliffe! 13! Plus, him being a Leo and me being an Aries make us one of the zodiacs perfect matches. IN YOUR FACE SCARLETT WHATEVER YOUR NAME IS!

And, as a side note, I had no idea Damien's name was actually the same as some evil dude's. How cool is that?

Oh, and before I forget, no, Damien has absolutely no knowledge of the magical world. I just figured, you know, since they mentioned the 'oh so dangerous' Sirius Black on Muggle television, then they'd DEFINITELY mention someone as dangerous as Voldemort, wouldn't they? Just, you know, without mentioning the magic.

Date Begun: August 24, 2004

Date Posted:

Chapter 4: Damien Strikes Back, Part II

Harry was NOT in the best of spirits by the time he got home, and it didn't help his mood that Hermione's parents were practically in a panic.

"No. NO! No, I do not think the sounds I heard as I approached my home could have been that of my daughter and her boyfriend having sex. What's wrong with you?!" Hermione's mother was screaming into the phone. Hermione's father was no better than his wife, pacing back and forth in the kitchen, wringing the daylights out of a newspaper, occasionally pausing to sip some coffee, only to spit it out again in shock at something his wife said.

So when Harry returned to the house, still wearing nothing but his boxers and looking mad enough to kill, two things happened.

Hermione's mother paled and dropped the phone.

And Hermione's father picked Harry up by his armpits, slammed him against the wall, and demanded that the location of his daughter be revealed before he castrated Harry the good old-fashioned way.

And since Harry was quite fond of his… Er… Organs, he decided that calming down before attempting to talk some sense into the infuriated man threatening to chop of his manly bits was the best choice.

"Mr. Granger," Harry began, keeping his voice calm. "That psycho stalker Damien has kidnapped Hermione and is, likely, holding her at his house. I tried to stop them. Why else would I have been outside looking like this?"

Mr. Granger seemed to realize that Harry was practically naked and dropped him onto the ground, taking a few steps back. "Kidnapped…?"

"Kidnapped? My Hermione?" Mrs. Granger asked, retrieving the phone and hanging it up.

"Your Hermione." Harry confirmed, wondering if he would have time to hide Damien's body before the Ministry of Magic arrived to kill him for using an illegal curse. He sighed wearily, sinking down into a chair and banging his head against the table repeatedly. "When I-" bang. "Get my hands-" Bang, bang. "On that sorry excuse-" Bang. "For a human, I will-" Bang, bang, bang, BANG. "Hex him so badly-" BANG. "That he won't be able to-" BANG. BANG. "Walk straight or talk or SEE or-" BANG. "ANYTHING FOR AN ENTERNITY!"

Harry finally stopped banging, only to wince at his sudden headache. A pale Mrs. Granger sank down in the seat across from him. Mr. Granger kept pacing.

"So, what's the plan, Harry?" He asked after awhile. Harry raised an eyebrow.


"What plan? You tell me where Damien lives, I wait for him there, the instant he comes back, I hit him with a Crucio curse until he's writhing in pain." A crazed look entered Harry's green eyes. "Yes, oh yes. Then we wrestle him to the ground and let him choke on a truth serum. Mmm, yes." Harry laughed maniacally. "Then we force him to tell us where Hermione is, finish him off with an Avada Kedavra and finally let the police take his lifeless corpse to jail. Mwahaha."

When he finally regained his sanity, Mr. and Mrs. Granger were staring at him fearfully. Harry blinked. "What?"

*

"Damien."

Silence.

"Damien!"

Silence.

"DAMIEN!"

More silence.

Hermione sighed in frustration. Where was that damned boy and how on earth did he expect her to stay alone in this dirty, messy, nasty closet with… With her staring back at her. When had he found the time to carve a lifelike statuette of her out of soap?

Creepy.

She'd been so bored staying in here for the last hour that she had taken to reorganizing Damien's closet. And dismantling his shrine. And taking back her knickers.

Now that she was finished, she was extremely bored. And she missed Harry. Pretend relationship, or no pretend relationship, he was a great friend. And boyfriend. And…

And Hermione couldn't think about that now.

"Why didn't I think to wear hairpins to bed?" Hermione whispered to herself. "Then I could pick this lock."

Glancing at the shrine, she noticed some thumbtacks holding a picture of her in the third grade with braces to the wall. Hermione nearly fell over in embarrassment.

"Where did he get THAT?!"

Disregarding it for now, Hermione pulled one of the thumbtacks out of the wall and stuck it in the lock, jiggling it around.

Nothing.

"Stupid too-short needle." She muttered, tossing the thumbtack over her shoulder and looking around for something else she could use. She spotted a small case and picked it up, very disturbed by what she saw.

It was a pale sticky object with a label above it reading 'Hermione's Gum - Day Five of Fourth Grade'.

"Sick. Sick. Sick. Sick." Hermione said, making a face as she peeled it out of the container and ripped off the edge of a nearby shoebox. She slipped the piece of cardboard through the crack between the door and the wall, jiggling it around until the door slipped open a bit. She put the gum down so the door wasn't able to be locked again and peered around for Damien.

He was… Asleep?

Didn't he know that he had a very resourceful, smart, and angry witch locked in his closet?!

She slipped out of the closet, then down the hall until she came to the phone, picking it up and hurrying back to her closet before Damien woke up and put her somewhere where Harry would NEVER be able to find her. Pulling the door closed, though not locked because of the gum, Hermione dialed home.

*

"Guns?"

"Too bloody."

"Whips."


"He'd scream too loudly."

"Knives."

"Waaaaay to messy."

"While you two are over there to decide what to use as a murder weapon, that maniac is having his way with out daughter!" Mrs. Granger shrieked, breaking up the discussion between her husband and Harry. This got a reaction out of both men.

"HAVING HIS WAY WITH HER?! I'LL BREAK THE LITTLE BASTARD INTO TWO MILLION PIECES!"

"IF HE SO MUCH AS TOUCHES MY HERMIONE, I'LL HEX HIM TO HELL AND BACK!"

It would have been comical if Hermione wasn't in danger. Mrs. Granger was about to suggest they just go over to Damien's house and have a talk with him, since his parents were out of the country that summer, when the phone rang.

Harry, being the closest, answered it. "What the hell do you want?!"

"Well, no need to be so rude, Harry. I'm only trying to-"

"Hermione?!" Harry near-shouted, feeling a great wave of relief that his brilliant witch had managed to get herself to a phone. "Where are you? Has he touched you? Are you alright? Did he hurt you? Hermione-"

"Damien's house. No. Yes. No. And, hush." Hermione said, answering each of his questions quietly as though she was hiding. "Damien's locked me in the closet in his bedroom, but he's asleep right now, and I've managed to make it so that the closet can't be locked again."

"Then what are you still doing there, Mione? Get out of there! Come home!" Harry said, ignoring the anxious, worried looks of Hermione's parents.

"I can't, Harry. I'm probably the only one who can talk some sense into Damien. Maybe I can even get him to turn himself in!"

Harry admired Hermione's sense of nobility. Really, he did. Just not now. "Hermione, are you out of your mind? The boy's a lunatic! Merlin knows what he'll do if you don't. Come. Home. NOW."

"I can't. Just listen to me. What you have to do is-"


"Come charging over there, wand raised an mouth poised to say the killing curse?"

"What? What?! No! What you need to do is call the police-"

"Duh." Harry snapped. He missed Hermione. He was concerned about her safety. And what was she doing? Choosing to remain in the hands of the enemy.

Was she TRYING to give Harry a heart attack before he turned twenty?!

"Call the police." Hermione hissed as if her patience were running thin. "And tell them to wait outside the house where nobody will be able to see them. It's you Damien wants Harry. He's angry with you and he wants you."

"Tell him I don't swing that way."

"HARRY JAMES POTTER, LISTEN TO ME!" Okay, yes, her patience HAD worn thin. "You have to come over here and keep Damien occupied while I run out to the police and give them the signal to come and apprehend Damien. Just make sure you're not casting a spell when they burst in. Or that Damien isn't dead by then."

"Hermione, wouldn't it just be simpler for you to come home right now and then we call the police to go get Damien?"

"Harry, how do you know, in that time, Damien wouldn't have run away, then come back when our guard is down and shot me?"

He hated it when she had a point.

"Now, we don't know what Damien's capable of, so I think it's best for now to have him think he has the upper hand, okay? Please, just trust me." The way she said it made Harry's heart clench and he sighed.


"I trust you Hermione. I just hope you know what you're doing."

"I do." She reassured him. "Now, I have to go before Damien wakes up. Tell Mom and Dad I'm okay."

"I will." Harry said in a resigned voice. There was no changing Hermione's mind once she had it made up.

"Oh, and Harry?"

"Mm?" Harry asked, wondering why she sounded so shy all of a sudden.

"I… I just wanted you to know… In case something goes wrong… Well…" There was a long pause in which Harry wondered if the line had gone dead before Hermione spoke in a rush of words, "Iloveyou." And hung up.

Harry blinked as the dial tone sounded, working out in his head what she'd said before-

Before his face turned bright red and he dropped the phone. Hermione loved him back? Oh, he'd do a victory dance if he wasn't in the kitchen with Hermione's parents in nothing but his boxers and if the girl he was madly in love with wasn't in impending danger.

Mr. Granger walked over and clapped a hand almost painfully down on Harry's shoulder, bring the boy out of his thoughts, and asked casually, "So… When do we kill him?"