A/N: I'm a bad, bad author! I know! *Hides from the angry readers for not updating again last night.* I'm so sorry, but after working 9 hours straight yesterday with no breaks in a boiling hot bakery, running around Niagara Falls on a last-minute delivery, I was completely exhausted. I fell asleep at like, 8:30. And I was planning on updating again at 9. :/ I'll do my best to update with two chapters today, and if I don't, feel free to publicly denounce me in the streets or…something.
Disclaimer: Honestly, if the Potterverse belonged to me, the disaster that was Harry Potter and the Half-Baked PlotBlood Prince would never have happened. And instead of sitting here eating pizza strips dipped in Caesar dressing and watching Jerry Springer while reading Tom and Harry by Old Crow on FF.net in my hot pink bathrobe with a matching towel on my head working on a laptop that's about to shut down from overheating any second, I'd be in a nice air conditioned room with a big comfy bed and loads of pillows with a tiara on my head and a computer that knows how to function properly without telling me that while running MSN, IE, and Microsoft Word that my Windows Virtual Memory is too low. Bloody 256MB of RAM…
In short, it's not mine. I'm just bored and playing with it.
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You-Know-Who Attacks Unsuspecting Muggle Family Several Other Motorists Injured
By Rita Skeeter
Early yesterday afternoon, what appeared to be a normal Muggle car accident occurred on the M4 Motorway into London. A single car managed to crash into four other cars, injuring numerous drivers and passengers in the process. Muggle policeman originally believed that the driver of the car had simply lost control of the wheel, but due to the identity of the driver and his family, the Ministry of Magic chose to perform their own investigation.
The driver and his passengers were none other than Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley Dursley, the Muggle guardians of Harry Potter, The Boy-Who-Lived and The Chosen One. Upon arriving at the scene, Ministry officials were greeted by the appearance of the Dark Mark set over the Dursley's car, discovering each family member dead inside. Upon further investigation it appears that the car accident was a Death Eater attack in disguise.
Muggles who were injured in the accident have had their memories modified accordingly. The Minister for Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour, has released the following statement.
"It is clear by the actions of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and his followers that this was not simply an attack on the Dursley family. They had believed Harry Potter to be inside the car with the Dursleys, and upon discovering his absence they killed his relatives instead. This attack shows the escalation of the war, and our Aurors are doing their best to keep any one else from getting hurt."
Hermione raised her head from the Prophet, unsure of how to react. She had sent away for the latest issue a few short days earlier after a trip to Diagon Alley to purchase a more inconspicuous owl than Hedwig, hoping to receive some news on how the war was going. She hadn't been expecting this.
She had no idea how to tell Harry that his last remaining relatives had been murdered. He was still asleep, exhausted from the last few days of physical training. He had been sleeping for nearly ten hours now, and as much as Hermione hated to wake him up, she knew this was important.
Just as she rose from her chair to head for the bedroom, Harry stumbled into the kitchen. He was still rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he stretched, and he smiled at Hermione.
"Come up with a name for the owl yet?" he asked, seeing the small barn owl resting on the kitchen table. He rubbed the owl's head affectionately, hoping that when he retrieved Hedwig from Hagrid she wouldn't take offence to the new owl like an older sibling would to a new baby.
Hermione shook her head. She had been planning to do that over breakfast when he had returned with the Daily Prophet.
"What's wrong, love? You look upset." Harry made his way over to her, gently grasping her shoulders in his palms as he brushed a kiss on the top of her head. As he raised his eyes he noticed the paper in front of her. "Since when do you get that rubbish again?"
Hermione opened her mouth to offer an explanation when she heard Harry gasp. He had just read the headline.
"It's bad enough when he attacks other witches and wizards, but what have the Muggles got to do with this?" Harry said angrily, skimming the rest of the article. "I'm surprised that he didn't make it painfully obvious that it was him. I mean, the Dark Mark is one thing, but the Muggles will still think it was just a car acci…" Harry trailed off as he read the names from the second paragraph. He finished the rest of the article in silence.
Slipping a hand over her shoulder to hold one of Harry's, Hermione offered a comforting squeeze. "I'm so sorry, Harry." She said quietly, turning to kiss his fingertips.
He stood upright, in a mild state of shock. He didn't say anything.
"Harry, I know that you weren't close with the Dursleys, but still," Hermione began, turning in her chair to face him.
Abruptly, Harry turned and left the room. Hermione couldn't decide whether she should follow him to make sure he was okay or let him stew in private when she heard several dull thuds coming from the bedroom. Getting up from her chair and walking down the hallway, Hermione was greeted by the sight of Harry unceremoniously dumping her belongings in her trunk.
"Harry, what are you doing?" she asked, rushing forward to stop him. He refused to answer her and instead began moving faster. Hermione scrambled to put everything he threw into the trunk back into its original place. "Harry, stop it!" she begged, grabbing at his hands and trying to pull him back.
He turned suddenly, his motion throwing Hermione back onto the bed with his momentum. She let go of his wrists as she fell back.
"I won't let it happen to you," he faced her, his shoulders slumping as one of her books dropped from his hand into the trunk.
The implications of Harry's words registered in Hermione's mind. I won't let it happen to you. He was doing the same thing he had with Ginny, only this time he really meant it. He was going to force her to leave him and go off on his own to destroy the rest of the Horcruxes, while she hid from Voldemort.
"Harry James Potter, if you think for one moment that I am going to stand idly by as you leave me, you are sadly mistaken," she spat out vehemently. She pushed herself off of the bed and faced him, aligning their bodies as she glared into his eyes. Her own eyes were flashing with the angry emerald fire she had seen mirrored countless times in Harry's.
Harry sank to his knees and quietly put a few more of Hermione's things in the trunk: a few textbooks here, a pair of shoes there. His fingers closed around a pile of silky black fabric. He held up the garment, realizing it was the dress Hermione had worn to dinner in Paris. A single tear slipped from his eye as the dress joined the other items in her trunk, Harry's memory recalling the events of that night. Harry continued to pack for Hermione, raising his eyes to look at her only when she had cleared her throat.
Hermione stood with her wand pointed directly at Harry. "Stop." She commanded, her eyes focused on his.
Harry froze. Rather than argue with her, he sat there with a pained expression on his face. "What are you going to do, hex me?" he asked, his voice hollow. Spreading his arms wide, he provoked her. "Go ahead. Give me your best shot," he said, offering himself to her.
Her lip trembling, Hermione lowered her wand.
"I promised you that I would never let anyone hurt you, and I meant it," he said in a pained voice, wishing she would understand why he was doing this.
"That's not what you promised, Harry. I may have been in shock at the time, but I remember. You promised that you'd never leave me alone, and what do you think you're trying to do right now?" She placed her hands on her hips, glowering at him.
"I'm trying to save your life!" he yelled, losing his temper. "Voldemort killed the Dursleys simply because I had to live with them every summer for a few bloody weeks. He killed them because I wasn't there! He didn't have to, he could've Obliviated their memories and sent them home, but he just killed them! People are disposable to him, Hermione, and I will not put you in a position where you could be hurt."
Rather than recoil at Harry's screaming, Hermione knelt to the ground. She faced him, grasping his hands in her own. "Harry, I'm not a child, and I've come a long way since we started at school. You don't need to protect me, Harry; I can take care of myself. I'm legally an adult now, remember? I'm not going to leave you."
Gently sliding a hand into Harry's hair, Hermione pulled him closer. She kissed him, ever so gently, letting her
love for him be felt in her kiss. When she pulled away, Harry was trembling. He drew her into his arms and they sat
like that for a while, just holding each other. Gradually Hermione disentangled herself from Harry's arms, and
began to put her things back where they belonged.
Harry looked up at her, questioningly.
If you still think I'm going to leave you and let you go off on your own, then I don't know how else to convince you that I'm staying. Hermione gently folded her black dress and placed it in a drawer. It's you and I until the end, Harry. We'll face Voldemort together.
Sliding his hand up her leg, Harry tugged at Hermione's pants until she joined him on the floor again. He kissed her, harder this time, his actions portraying his desperate need to keep her safe. He tightened his arms around her, refusing to let her go. Harry was seeking solace from his torrid emotions in his girlfriend's arms, and Hermione was more than happy to oblige. If he needed anything from her to feel better, she was willing to use her body to ease his soul.
With that thought firmly in her head, Hermione removed the pants that Harry had just been pulling at and tossed them onto the bed. Her shirt, bra and knickers quickly followed as she began to work on Harry's clothing. When he was as naked as she was, Hermione seated herself firmly into his lap and kissed him fiercely.
As much as Harry was enjoying the passionate kiss his body couldn't help but notice exactly how close certain parts of him were to certain parts of Hermione. The tip of his penis was brushing against the wet heat that was pooling between her legs, and Harry was again positive that something harder than a diamond existed. He was torn between jerking his hips slightly upward to close the distance and remaining respectful of Hermione's wishes that they wait. While she hadn't outright said it, he had a feeling that she wanted to wait until the albatross that was Tom Marvolo Riddle was no longer hanging round their necks before they took that final step.
Hermione moaned into his mouth and unconsciously ground her hips against him, nearly driving poor Harry into insanity. When she had originally sat in his lap she had been facing sideways with both of her legs dangling over one of his. As she had been kissing him Hermione had shifted her position and was now effectively straddling Harry. He was fully aware of the miniscule distance between them as his hands roamed and caressed her body, and his hormones were begging him to just lift himself upward those few centimetres and bury himself there.
Flowing to her feet, Hermione tugged Harry up from the floor and led him to the bed. She fell backwards as her knees hit the edge of the mattress and Harry tumbled after her. They entangled their fingers in each other's hair as they shared a deep kiss, their tongues tangling and fighting for dominance. Though their new position offered Harry the chance for a clearer head in terms of attempts to restrain himself he found that the temporary relief from being pressed so intimately against Hermione didn't do anything to fade his desires. He was desperate to be inside her, and yet was still internally struggling with the concept of actually doing it.
Harry decided that he needed to find a happy medium before he exploded, and let one of his hands drift to the thatch of brown curls at the apex of her thighs. Feeling just how wet she was he slipped a finger inside of her and began to move in a quick rhythm.
"Oh, Harry!" Hermione gasped, her hips jerking upward to meet the thrusts of his finger.
Harry gently twisted his finger until his thumb could reach the little nub hidden below the brunette curls, and began to rub in small circles. Hermione bucked frantically under his touch, and cried out when a second finger moved to join the first. Though Harry had done the same thing when they had showered together, it was still more than enough to make her feel like she was about to explode.
With great difficulty Harry managed to tear his lips from Hermione's and trail light kisses from her neck to her navel. His fingers began to work faster as his lips came to meet them, and he quickly removed his hand. Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but let out a loud gasp instead as Harry's tongue replaced his fingers.
He worked her into a frenzy as his tongue repeated the motions of his thumb over her clit, starting out by moving in circles. He began to flick his tongue faster, driving Hermione right over the edge.
She came as a scream tore from her lips, thrusting her hips upward. Harry continued to work his tongue, prolonging her orgasm as long as possible. When she collapsed back on the mattress panting heavily, Harry looked up at her with a grin.
"Good?" he whispered, kissing the insides of her thighs.
Hermione nodded, catching her lower lip between her teeth. "Brilliant." Once she had caught her breath she shot Harry a devilish glare. "Your turn, Potter," she grinned as she wrapped her hand around him.
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Evil, maniacal laughter filled Riddle Manor as Voldemort celebrated the day's mission. He raised a glass with Severus Snape and Bellatrix Lestrange in his inner chambers. "A toast," he said, "to our new secret weapon. To the success of my followers here today, and to the complete and utter destruction of Harry Potter." He tipped his glass back and drained it, watching out of the corner of his eye as Snape and Lestrange did the same.
The three turned towards the far wall of the chamber, observing the figure in chains. Bellatrix grinned. "We're one step closer, my Lord," she said, her heavy lids shadowing her eyes. She puffed up her chest, taking pride in her accomplishment. With Snape's supply of Polyjuice Potion she had taken a form that their quarry trusted, leading to a successful capture.
Voldemort nodded, holding a hand out to Snape. Bowing, Severus knelt to the floor of the chamber as he took the Dark Lord's hand. "You did well today, Severus," he said, with the air of a king bestowing knight-ship, "Your actions today, in combination with your actions at Hogwarts, have proven your loyalty to me. Welcome back to the inner circle."
Standing, Snape dipped his head in acknowledgment. "The blood traitor will serve us well," he said with conviction, restraining a laugh as he watched the figure struggle against the chains.
Reaching deep into his robes, Voldemort withdrew the scarlet potion that Snape had given to him days earlier. Wordlessly he handed it to Snape.
Bellatrix huffed. "My Lord, I thought that you wished for me to administer the potion!" she declared, upset with the Dark Lord's choice of Snape.
A loud crack resounded through the chamber as Voldemort struck Bellatrix across the cheek. "Are you questioning my authority?" he demanded.
Refusing to raise a hand to her cheek, Bellatrix straightened her spine to hide her injured pride. "No, my Lord." Rather than suffer further, she withdrew herself into the shadows and exited the chamber.
Snape uncorked the potion and stalked over to the figure in chains. Forcing the potion down their captive's throat, he stood and returned to the Dark Lord's side.
"You will have complete control now," he said, almost regretting what he had done.
Voldemort relaxed his shoulders and turned to leave the room, swishing his robe behind him. "We will begin the second phase of the mission tomorrow morning, once the potion has had time to take effect. Come, Severus." Voldemort left the chamber, Snape following faithfully behind him.
Outside the door, Peter Pettigrew, who was waiting for his master, greeted Voldemort. Pettigrew opened his mouth to say something, and was rewarded with a kick to the shins from Lord Voldemort. "Peter, you'll need to discover the location of the Potter boy. Use any means necessary." He said, not waiting to see if the rat-like man understood. He walked away, leaving Peter to grasp at his leg in pain.
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It had been three days since the Weasleys had heard anything from Ginny when an owl finally arrived bearing her script on it, zooming in through the kitchen window. The Order had received notice from Harry and Hermione earlier that morning that they were all right, and everyone had been on edge waiting to hear from Ginny. Molly Weasley made a frantic grasp for the parchment that the owl was carrying. She didn't recognize the bird, but shrugged it off in her nervous state. She practically tore the ribbon off of the parchment and unrolled it as the owl flapped its wings and left the Burrow.
Mum, Dad, and the boys:
I'm fine. Thought I'd clear that up first. I took the Knight Bus and I'm staying with a friend. I'm not telling you who, because I don't want you to come after me. I'll be home soon; I just need to sort a few things out for myself.
Love, Ginny
Breathing a sigh of relief, Molly handed the letter to her husband. Arthur skimmed the brief scrap of parchment and set it on the kitchen table.
"At least she's safe and nothing has happened to her," he said, wishing that his daughter would come home shortly. He still felt he had been right in letting her leave. She was sixteen years old and capable of taking care of herself, but he couldn't help but worry about her.
In Ginny's absence, Molly had been reduced to a nervous wreck. Her family was falling apart. The twins were on their own in Diagon Alley. Bill and Charlie no longer lived at home, and in a few weeks time Bill would be getting married to Fleur Delacour. Percy was-well, Percy was a subject she didn't like to think of. Harry and Hermione were so furious with Ginny that they were staying elsewhere for the summer, and that left Mrs. Weasley alone with Ron.
Ron hadn't been taking the last few days too well either. He trusted his little sister enough to let her go off on her own without worrying too much, but it was his mother that was becoming difficult to handle. She had become far clingier than ever before, focusing all her attentions on 'ickle Ronnie.' He had barely been able to escape her for five minutes in the last three days. Her mothering nature was becoming a smothering nature as she tried desperately to become closer to Ron while Ginny was gone.
Watching the scene unfold between his parents in the kitchen, Ron remained hidden in the living room. With his mother's attention solely on Ginny's letter and his father, he was free to escape to his room and place a locking charm on the door. He whipped out a fresh sheet of parchment and a quill, and began to write.
Things have gotten crazier in the Burrow lately. Ginny's run off because she tried to put Harry under a love potion for the second time (turns out that's how she got him in the first place) and Hermione caught her. Harry and Hermione left and they're staying somewhere else; Mum and Dad won't tell me where. Mum's still fussing over wedding plans in between smothering me every five seconds, and all I can think about is how I'd rather be back at Hogwarts with everyone else, where we can be normal again. Writing to you is the only thing that's kept me sane all summer, especially since Hermione broke up with me and got together with Harry. I feel like I should be angrier 'cause he's my best mate, but all the same, he's Harry Potter. He gets everything. The gold, the fame, and now the girl. I'm not surprised, really, and it doesn't hurt as much as I thought it would. I just wish that she'd told me sooner that she fancied him, or at the very least broken things off before I started to like her more.
I get the feeling that you'd never do that to a bloke like me. You seem so much more realistic, and much less perfect. Don't take that the wrong way, but I'm nowhere near close to perfection and I can't see myself being with someone who is. There's so many things I wish I could say to you face-to-face but I won't get that chance until I see you at Hogwarts again. Please write me back soon… I look forward to your letters.
Ronald
After pouring his heart out Ron sat back, rolled up his parchment, and sent it off with Pig. "You know where to take this, boy," he whispered. The tiny owl gave a resounding hoot and fluttered out the window, nearly bouncing mid-flight with the joy of being let out of the house.
A loud banging shook Ron's bedroom door. "Ronald Weasley, since when do we lock doors in this house?" his mother yelled shrilly through the thin wood. She performed the unlocking charm and entered his bedroom. "Come along now, dear, it's tea time. I've made your favourite! Buttery scones and fresh raspberry jam!"
Ron sighed, going along with his mother's forced happiness as she ushered him downstairs to the kitchen.
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Later that evening, Harry found himself struggling to keep up with Hermione as they spread out on their yoga mats. She was patiently trying to teach him several new positions, and he was clumsily falling all over himself. Any agility he had displayed during Quidditch was gone as he struggled to balance himself on one leg and one arm. It didn't help that Hermione was wearing another of her skimpy workout uniforms, giving him a tantalizing view of her body. Even though he'd seen her wearing nothing at all, there was something infinitely sexy about next-to-nothing that still made his heart race.
Hermione gracefully lowered herself to the mat, watching as Harry tumbled forward. She laughed, holding her hands out to help steady him. "Don't try so hard, you'll hurt yourself!" she insisted. "Here, I'll do it really slow, and you can watch. That way you won't miss anything."
Performing the move again, Hermione moved excruciatingly slow. Harry couldn't help but watch how her every curve twisted and turned, her supple skin glowing with the physical exertion she was putting herself through.
Hermione paused, one leg extended behind her. "Harry, maybe you should just stick to sit-ups," she giggled, seeing the look on her boyfriend's face.
Blushing, Harry rolled over onto his back and forced himself to look away from her. He concentrated as he lifted himself forward, counting in his head. When he reached fifty he stopped to take a break and enjoy some of the refreshing water from the cooler against the wall.
Lowing herself to the mat again, Hermione relaxed her muscles as she breathed deeply. After a moment she sat up, locking eyes with Harry. "Library time?" she asked. They had spent the majority of the day in the workout room, allowing Harry to work out his frustrations over the Dursleys' murders.
Nodding, Harry stood up and offered a hand to Hermione, helping her up from the floor.
"I think I might be a bit closer to finding out where the Hufflepuff cup might be," she said, heading for the bathroom. "I'm just going to take a quick shower before we get started. If you want to-hey, what are you doing?" she laughed as Harry scooped her up into his arms and carried her into the bathroom.
"I need a shower too, we might as well conserve water," he said with a twinkle in his eye. Hermione slipped behind the curtain, throwing her sports bra and shorts over the curtain rod as she turned the hot water on. Harry quickly shed his shorts as he stepped behind the curtain, enjoying not only the water beating down on his skin but the lovely image of his girlfriend, naked and soaking wet.
That image quickly grew lovelier as Hermione lowered herself to her knees and took him into her mouth. Though he had been flaccid when he entered the shower, Harry quickly swelled and grew hard as Hermione's tongue and lips stroked and teased his length. She alternated between sucking gently on the head and licking from base to tip, which left Harry desperately keeping himself upright by pressing both hands against opposite walls of the tiled, oversized shower stall. His knees were going weak and he was sure he'd fall apart any second.
Hermione continued her ministrations for what seemed like hours, but what was really minutes, and Harry felt himself begin to boil over.
"I-I'm gonna-" he choked out in an attempt to give Hermione a fair warning.
She understood the point he was trying to get across and quickly moved her face to the side as she continued to vigorously pump him with her hand. Watching in fascination as Harry's world exploded around him, Hermione was eye-level as his semen splashed against the tile of the shower. Harry opened his eyes just in time to see her curiously stick her tongue out and catch a few drops on the end. She licked her lips as he finished, and promptly took him back into her mouth.
"For the love of Merlin, I'm not a machine!" he laughed, even as he enjoyed the feeling of her tongue along his softening penis.
Hermione paused for a moment to answer him. "I thought it might be fun to clean you off," she explained, returning to the task at hand. With a few gentle caresses of her tongue he was effectively cleansed, and they finally managed to clean up like they'd intended when they left for the bathroom in the first place.