The Smiling Man

serpentclone

Rating: R
Genres: Angst, Horror
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 6
Published: 03/06/2007
Last Updated: 03/06/2007
Status: completed

Continuation of “Screams”. Fugitives Draco and Ginny try to find a place to hide from their pursuers. Post HBP DARK FIC Features Dark Harry and Insane Hermione

Chapters

1. The Smiling Man

1. The Smiling Man

The Smiling Man

by cloneserpents

Standard Disclaimer: Not mine, all characters belong to JKR, I am writing this purely for entertainment, no money is being made. No copyright infringement is intended.

A WARNING TO ALL READERS:

To the people who have read “Harry Potter and the Sword of Gryffindor” and are expecting something along the same vein should NOT read this story. THIS IS NOT LIKE MY OTHER STORY! DARK FIC! MAJOR CHARACTER DEATHS AHEAD!

They were on the run like the fugitives from justice that they were. They couldn’t stay in any one place for too long; the Aurors were always just a few steps behind them. The dark wizard hunters chased the lovers with a passion; they tended to do so whenever they lost one of their own.

It had just been an accident; Ginny just wanted to push Tonks to the ground, hoping that the Auror’s innate clumsiness would allow them enough time to escape. The red haired witch had not intended to push Tonks hard enough to send her tumbling over the railing of the bridge. It was just an accident, she hadn’t intended for that to happen.

Lately, everything in Ginny’s life hadn’t been planned by her. She didn’t want to kill Tonks, she didn’t want to run and hide like a criminal, and she definitely didn’t want to fall in love with Draco Malfoy. He was a Death Eater and she had known in her heart that You-Know-Who and his minions had something to do with Ron, Harry, and Hermione’s disappearance. In her mind, Ginny knew that she hated all Death Eaters. But the heart seldom listens to the mind.

A few days after her brother, Harry, and Hermione disappeared (none of them had bothered to give anybody a reason for their mysterious actions, no less), Ginny found Draco hiding in the shed behind the Burrow. She was about to run back into the house and firecall the Ministry when she saw that Draco was injured and had a terrified and pitiful look in his eyes. Her resolve to turn him in melted away as a strange nurturing desire overcame her. Instead of handing him over to the Ministry, Ginny snuck Draco into her room under the cover of night and nursed him back to health over the next two weeks.

While he healed, Draco had opened up to Ginny and told her that he had made a mistake by becoming a Death Eater. Draco explained that he found out that it wasn’t in him to cause others harm, and she believed him. Draco told a harrowing tale of how he escaped from You-Know-Who’s stronghold and how he had become injured when his former compatriots tried to stop him. The blond wizard described how every moment since his escape he lived in fear of what his former colleagues would do to him if they caught him. Draco went on to say that it wasn’t safe for Ginny if he stayed in the Burrow; both the Ministry and Death Eaters were hunting him and he didn’t want her to get caught in the crossfire.

That’s when she first made love to him. He had opened up to her and had been so compassionate and noble that she just had to do it. It was wonderful; his kindness touched her heart more than any man had done before. She let him into her causing her head to spin with ecstasy. She kissed his sweat off of his chin while he thrust. When he came, he called out her name passionately. Ginny’s actions convinced Draco to stay in the Burrow a little longer.

For another week, Ginny snuck food up to her room for her new lover. Ginny had planned on keeping it a secret, but her mother became suspicious and slipped into her daughter’s room late one night. Molly was shocked to find her darling Ginny in bed with a known Death Eater. The Weasley matriarch rushed down to the fireplace and called Remus and Tonks. She didn’t want to make a big to do about this, and if Molly reported this to the Ministry, then her home would be crawling with Aurors, Ministry Officials, and reporters looking for Malfoy. The less people who knew, the less embarrassment the Weasley family would suffer over this humiliating predicament. Molly was hoping that the situation could be handled discreetly and that Tonks would be able to take Malfoy away without a fuss. After Malfoy was out of the picture, Molly was planning on having a very stern lecture with her daughter.

But things had not gone as planned. Tonks tried to catch Ginny and Draco while they slept. But that damned ghoul in the attic decided to make a racket and it woke the two young lovers up just as Tonks walked into the room. In a panic, Draco apparated away, dragging Ginny along with him through side-along apparition since the red haired witch was clutching onto him in fear.

Tonks could no longer be discreet now that Draco had escaped; she was forced to make an official report. It didn’t help matters when Molly began insisting that Malfoy had drugged her daughter with a powerful love potion; why else would Ginny, a kind and intelligent witch, sleep with a Death Eater? Now Draco had kidnapping added to his already long list of crimes he reportedly committed.

A few days later, Tonks caught up with the couple as they were crossing the Thames River. Ginny tried to convince the Auror that Draco had not drugged her nor did he kidnapped her.

Tonks would have none of that; she told them unequivocally that her job was to bring Draco in, not to judge him. When the Auror was about to magically bind Draco, Ginny sprang into action. All she wanted to do was trip the Auror up a bit. But the scream that Tonks let out as she fell to her death made Ginny’s blood run cold.

Ever since that fateful day, Ginny and Draco were on the run. They moved from one place to the next, day after day. Twice, they saw a group of Aurors rush up to them and got within a few feet before the couple apparated away. And thanks to the wanted posters listing a monetary reward, every witch and wizard in Britain was looking for them as well.

Some rest came to them when rumors began to spread saying that the Dark Lord was striking from the shadows after a long absence and people were disappearing. But their respite was short lived and they found themselves on the run again.

One time they hid out in the shed behind the Burrow. Draco said that it was the last place anyone would look for them.

After they made love in the shed, Ginny spent a sleepless night watching her former home. She longed to go back; to eat her mum’s food, and to sleep in her own bed. But she knew that was a silly thing; she could never go back. Not ever.

* * * * * * *

After the last echoes of Neville’s screams had faded away, Harry moved over to the piano that was sitting in the parlor and began to play. Hermione watched with rapt attention as his elegantly long fingers danced along the piano keys. They were the same fingers she had happily watched a few hours previously as they wrapped around Neville’s fingers and snapped them, one by one.

It wasn’t so much of a tune, but rather a random striking of keys. Sometimes, the notes Harry hit were jarring and crude, others soft and graceful. It was nothing more than a hodgepodge of sounds without any rhythm. This didn’t matter to Hermione; to her it was music from Harry’s heart, pure and simple. She felt that Harry’s music needed words to make it a song.

“Oh, my lovely smiling man... how wonderful you are,” she sang in a high and warbling voice. Hermione sounded like a child trying her best to sound like a talented opera singer and failing miserably. But her off-key alto fit the random notes of Harry’s playing and it made Hermione happy. That was all that truly mattered.

She sat on the bench next to Harry and caressed his right cheek and the vicious scar that adorned it.

“You make me happy when skies are grey... my smiling man...” she continued to quaver. “I get what I need by your hand... and that’s all I need in this forsaken world. Please don’t leave me, my smiling man...”

She was still filled with a joyous warm, thanks to Harry’s painstaking ministrations on Neville. Hermione had observed as he made their former friend and betrayer scream and it touched her deep inside. Since Harry had given her what she had needed, it was time for Hermione to give him what he required. It was only proper. Tit for tat.

As Hermione needed screams, she knew what Harry needed. He needed touch. Not the type of touches he got when he lived with the Dursleys, which were nonexistent, and not the ones he got when he was in Voldemort’s clutches, which were bloody and hurtful. He needed soft, gentle touches; caresses that made the skin prickle, the heart race, and the blood burn. She was more than happy to fill his need, not only did he fulfill her wants but he was a true friend and therefore, he deserved it.

Her dainty fingers softly danced over his stern features and his seemingly permanent scowl. The short, coarse hairs on his chin tickled her as she lovingly cupped his face. She felt her smiling man’s pulse increased when she softly dragged her palms down his neck.

Harry continued to play his rhythm-less tune, alternating between jolting twangs and melodious notes, as she wrapped her arms around him. Hermione hummed along with his playing and snuggled into the crook of his neck.

Slowly, her hands slid down his taught belly, over his navel, and to the belt of his trousers.

“Oh, my lovely smiling man... how wonderful you are,” Hermione sang softly while she unfastened his belt and trousers. “I get what I need by your hand... and that’s all I need in this forsaken world.”

A hollow sounding groan escaped Harry’s closed mouth when the witch gently pulled his flaccid manhood out. She ran her tongue over his lips and he opened his mouth, allowing her access. Hermione’s skin tingled and she shivered slightly as she rolled her tongue over the remnants of his tongue. The tip of her pink organ probed and massaged the roughly scarred stump.

Hermione wrapped her hand around Harry’s member and gave him a slight squeeze. His organ began to swell rapidly and grew in her palm. After she had her fill of pleasant shivers, she pulled her tongue out of Harry’s mouth and kissed his chin. She placed another kiss on his throat and then one in the middle of his muscular chest. She planted light kisses all the way down his stomach until she got to his growing penis.

She managed to slide off of the bench and kneel in front of her smiling man. A sparkle ignited in her brown eyes as she looked up at him. She gave him a rare genuine smile before opening her mouth wide. It truly made her happy to make Harry happy.

Harry ran his fingers through Hermione wild hair as she worked his organ. Her eyes never left his as she bobbed up and down.

* * * * * * *

“Why are we here?” Draco asked as they walked up the path.

“We need a place to stay and I’m tired of sleeping on the ground,” Ginny said. “I want to sleep in a real bed.”

“I can conjure you a bed like I always do,” Draco stated with annoyance as he eyed the surrounding homes. “We don’t have to do this.” Beneath his irritation, Ginny could hear his fear.

“Neither of us can conjure a proper bed and you know it,” Ginny said evenly and calmly in order to sooth her lover. “We either make it too hard or far too lumpy. I want a real bed. A nice, warm, bed.”

“What if he turns us in?” he asked as they approached the house at the end of the path.

“Neville’s a sweetheart...” she answered. Then with a smile, she added: “and a push over. We just give him a sob story and he’ll let us stay. Hell, we may even get a chance to spend more than just one night here. Really get some time to rest.”

Draco still looked unconvinced.

“We can make love in a real bed. Then we can just lounge around and shag again. We won’t have to rush off like we always do. Imagine; waking up and not having to bolt away like frightened rabbits. Instead we can make love like rabbits,” Ginny purred into his ear. “Won’t that be nice?”

A smile on his lips told her that she had won the argument. “I’ll give you a reward for agreeing with me,” Ginny said coyly before jabbing her tongue into the inside of her cheek making it bulge out. The implication gave Draco a shiver of delight.

“Hello there,” a small voice called out.

The couple turned and found a cute little girl, no older than five, standing in front of a house next to Neville’s. Ginny had not seen the girl playing in the front garden as she and Draco walked.

“H-hello,” Ginny returned the greeting uneasily. All she could think of was the wanted posters and how this girl might recognize them.

“Are you gonna visit Mr. Longbottom?” the girl asked while she skipped in a circle around the couple.

“Um, yes,” Ginny replied as she chanted a prayer to herself “Don’t let her recognize us. Don’t let her recognize us.”

“That’s nice,” the girl said with an easy smile. “He never gets any visitors, and now he’s gotten a load of them.”

“Oh really?” Ginny asked. “When did he have visitors last?”

“Before yesterday; never,” the girl said and she played with one of her loosely tied pigtails. “But yesterday a witch and a wizard paid him a visit. They were nice. I heard the witch say I was beautiful and the wizard smiled at me. He had a really big smile.”

“That’s nice,” Draco said with barely a hint of fear to his voice. “Why don’t you go back to playing, we don’t want to keep you.”

“Okay,” the girl chirped and ran back to a swing tied onto a tree branch in front of her house.

Ginny and Draco breathed a sigh of relief and they made their way to Neville’s. First, they tried his greenhouse, but he was not there, so they went to go into the house itself. Neither of them knocked. Yes, Ginny was positive she could persuade Neville to do as she wished, but she didn’t want him to run to the floo and call for Aurors while she and Draco waited for him to open the door. With a wave of Ginny’s wand, the back door opened and they walked into the kitchen; after all their crimes, trespassing was the least amount on their minds.

“Hello, Neville?” Ginny called out. There was no answer so she pressed on.

A peculiar smell hung about the house. It reminded Ginny of the time she and her brothers stumbled across a recently dead gnome at the Burrow. She recalled how disturbing it was that flies and maggots had already started to make a feast of the dead creature’s body.

Ginny and Draco entered the parlor and quickly scanned the room, but no one was in sight. Ginny noted that the odd smell was particularly pungent in this room.

Ginny was about to make her way up the stairs when Draco held her back.

“Don’t go up there,” he said.

“Why not?”

“What if he had a late night and is still asleep,” he speculated. “He’d be cross and we don’t want him to be angry.”

There was a look in Draco’s eye that told her there was something more than what he was saying. Something a little nefarious and a touch wicked.

“What are you up to?” she asked.

A handsome smile graced his lips. “That reward you promised me.”

“What, here, now?” she asked in disbelief.

“No, back in the kitchen, the smell in here bothers me,” Draco answered with a crinkle of his nose.

“What if Neville walks in on us? You said you don’t want to wake him because that would make him mad. Don’t you think he’d be even angrier if he walked in on me giving you a blow job?” she argued.

“Neville isn’t very light on his feet; we’d hear him coming,” Draco countered. “Besides, I won’t last long. It’s been two weeks since we’ve had the chance to be together and I feel like I’m ready to burst.”

He was right about the last time they got to be intimate. The couple had been on the run for what seemed like every moment of the last fourteen days.

Ginny felt her face heat up. She did enjoy making her wizard happy and the hint of danger of being caught in the act thrilled her. She took her lover’s hand and led him back into the kitchen.

* * * * * * *

Hermione continued to softly sing her song as Harry washed her back. His hands gently massaged her and worked the cleansing suds into her flesh.

After his immediate needs were satiated, Harry had carried her up the stairs to the master bath and gently set her on the countertop and slowly removed her clothes. Once she was bare, Harry turned the tub’s faucet on and undressed himself, allowing the tub filled with warm, sudsy water. When the tub was full, Harry scooped up Hermione, stepped into the tub and lowered himself until they were both in the water.

It wasn’t a sexual activity; those urges had been momentarily met while in the parlor.

“Oh, my lovely smiling man...” she sang while he washed her hair.

The rational part of Hermione’s mind would have been able to recite studies that claimed that the act of bathing not only washed away dirt and grime, but had a psychological cleansing aspect as well. That it soothed and calmed the mind and spirit. But the rational part of Hermione’s brain had grown quiet and rarely spoke since her time under Voldemort’s “tender mercies.” Now, she just like the way the suds felt as they tickled her.

“Please don’t leave me, my smiling man...”

When they were cleaned, Harry carefully lifted Hermione’s frail body out of the tub and carried her into the adjoining master bedroom. He set her down on the bed and began to towel her dry.

As he padded the fluffy towel against her skin, Hermione became distracted by a magical photo on a bedside table. In the photo, an old woman was standing next to a happy couple holding a baby. She recognized them as Neville’s parents, Frank and Alice, and his grandmother, Augusta. Recalling Frank and Alice’s dreadful fate, Hermione idly commented; “I wonder if their screams were nice?”

Harry did not answer her question. He dried himself with the same towel he had used on Hermione. Once they were both dry, Harry dressed Hermione. She held up her thin and emaciated arms over her head so that Harry could easily pull her top on.

“You make me complete and whole...” she sang. “My smiling man...”

He tugged her knickers on and then her skirt.

“I get what I need by your hand...” she continued while he laced up her trainers. “And that’s all I need in this forsaken world.”

Then Harry dressed himself and sat on the bed next to Hermione.

“Are you hungry?” she asked and ran her fingers through his hair. He shook his head and her fingers slid down and traced the scar on the left side of his face. “Yes you are. You need some food.”

She took his hand and led him out of the room. Her legs wobbled a bit as she walked. She ignored her weakness; she wanted to show Harry that she was getting better thanks to his efforts and all those glorious screams he gave to her.

* * * * * * *

Draco was right when he said he was about to burst, Ginny thought with a chuckle. The wizard had built up so much over the last few days that she almost choked when he came.

She spat his seed into the kitchen sink while a satisfied Draco refastened his trousers. Ginny couldn’t wait to get him in a real bed so that she too could have her needs fulfilled.

“Let’s go get Neville,” Draco said.

“Oh, you don’t mind getting him cross now that you’ve gotten some head.”

Draco smiled for a moment at his lover’s light-hearted comment. Then his face became sober.

“Listen, Ginny, I have an idea,” he said, his voice told Ginny that the topic he was about to bring up was completely serious and that she should listen very carefully. “Even if Neville agrees to let us stay here for a bit, I think we should put him under the Imperius Curse.”

She gasped at the idea of using an Unforgivable Curse.

“Are you mad?” she asked.

“Think about it, we’ve been on the run for months,” Draco argued. “We’ll never have a chance for a real life, not with the Ministry and Death Eaters chasing us. This is our only way of having something like a normal life together. We can hide here for more than just a few days. Get a chance to settle down.”

“But we would have to use an Unforgivable,” Ginny paused and snapped, “on my friend!”

“Don’t delude yourself,” Draco said. “You were friends with him a lifetime ago. You’re a different person now. Do you think a noble Gryffindor like Longbottom would let us stay in his home?” Ginny noted that Draco had stopped referring to Neville by his given name and had regressed to calling him by his family name in a degrading way, much like the blonde wizard had done to all his enemies while they were at Hogwarts. He added; “Would he allow a Death Eater and his Auror-killing girlfriend stay under his roof?”

Ginny recoiled from Draco, as if the title he had given her had slapped her across her face.

Ignoring his lover’s reaction, Draco forged ahead with his argument. “If he did allow us to stay, he would fire-call the Ministry the moment our backs were turned. He would think that it would be the right thing to do. We need to put Longbottom under the Imperius Ginny. For us. So that we could live a normal life.”

“A normal life,” she shot back bitterly. She didn’t like that he was suggesting they should use an Unforgivable. Tonks’ death had been an accident, something that could hopefully be forgiven. But there was no leniency for the Imperius Curse. “Even if we do put Neville under that Unforgivable, it still means we’d have to hide. If any of the neighbors ever saw us, they’d turn us in.”

“Yes, we would have to hide-”

“How would that be a better situation than we are in now?” she demanded.

“Because we wouldn’t be running!” Draco replied. “We could live with a roof over our heads. We wouldn’t have to worry where we would spend the next night.”

Ginny was still dubious. Draco’s reasoning was appealing, but the thought of committing such a heinous crime, especially on such a nice bloke like Neville, was wrong. But then Draco convinced Ginny by saying five words:

“We can have a family.”

Her brown eyes went wide and instantly began to shimmer with tears. A scenario spontaneously played out in her head; a number of small children with strawberry blonde hair scurrying about the kitchen, laughing joyously as she cooked supper. They couldn’t go outside to play because the neighbors might become suspicious, but thanks to magic, the children could play to their hearts’ content in an enlarged parlor. Perhaps she and Draco could even create fake identities for their children, saying they belonged to another family so that they could attend Hogwarts.

With the thought of becoming the mother of Draco’s children, Ginny forgot her moral dilemma of using an Unforgivable and agreed with a nod of her head.

“I’ll be the one to cast it,” he said after he kissed the happy tears off of her face. “I have some skill in it.”

Ginny nodded her head and the couple walked out of the kitchen. As they started to make their way up the stairs, Ginny saw something that she had missed before when she was in the parlor. She saw a foot jutting out from behind the sofa.

“Draco, wait,” she said, cautiously approaching the sofa with Draco in tow.

At first, the thing lying on the floor in between the sofa and the fireplace did not make sense to Ginny. It was an odd and twisted form, completely motionless. Then, slowly, the image registered in her mind; it was a man; a mutilated mockery of a man. Limbs were disjointed and pointing in unnatural directions and angles. The face was a bloodied pulp. Ginny couldn’t see the man’s left ear, just the ruined flesh where it used to be.

But the man’s hair and his body type seemed familiar to Ginny. Slowly, it dawned upon her. They were in Neville’s house and the mutilated corpse had his hair and body type.

“Oh shit,” she murmured. “I think that’s Neville.”

“We have to get out of here,” Draco said with panic in his voice. “If we’re found here, the Ministry will think we did this!”

Ginny nodded in agreement. She and Draco were in enough trouble without this on their heads. She was about to dash to the door when she felt something heavy and hard hit her in the back of the head. Suddenly, she began to reel forward and she crashed to the ground. The edges of her vision quickly darkened. As she began to black out, Ginny saw Draco get tackled to the ground by a man with white hair.

* * * * * * *

Ginny woke sometime later with a weight on her lap. She found herself bound by invisible ropes to a chair in the kitchen and had a small and thin witch curled up, sitting in her lap. In a panic, Ginny’s eyes darted around the kitchen and to two wizards standing a few feet away from her. Draco was suspended in mid-air with his arms and legs pulled apart, forcing him into a spread eagle position. The man with stark white hair who had tackled Draco stood in front of the blond wizard with his back toward Ginny.

Draco’s face was full of fear. His skin was deathly pale and his eyes were wide in horror. Ginny didn’t know why, but Draco stared at the mystery man with unmasked terror.

The witch on Ginny’s lap paid the red head no heed as she munched on an apple as if the witch had not noticed she was sitting on someone instead of a chair. She was frail and looked like she would break if she were touched even lightly. Dirty, tattered, and threadbare robes hung off of her haggard body. Her curly brown hair was marred with broad streaks of white. Cold and vacant brown eyes were framed in a gaunt and colorless face.

“H-Hermione?” Ginny asked in shock. Certainly, this sickly wisp of a woman couldn’t be her friend.

The witch turned to face Ginny and her bony face lit up. She threw her arms around Ginny’s neck and greeted her as if she had not seen that she was sitting on the red head’s lap.

“Hello Ginny!” she said in a light and easy fashion. “So wonderful for you to join us.”

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“Harry and I are going to have a little fun,” the gaunt witch said and gestured to the white haired man in front of Draco.

“Th-th-that’s Harry?” she asked in disbelief.

“And that’s Draco,” Hermione added and gestured to the bound blond as it would’ve been rude of her not to introduce him. “Have you two met?”

Hermione then leaned very close to Ginny so that her nose was no more than a few centimeters from her mouth. The brunette began to sniff. She took in Ginny’s sent over the next few seconds before she got off of the red head’s lap. With unsteady legs, Hermione teetered over to Draco. Ginny realized that the simple act of walking proved difficult to Hermione for some reason. When the witch reached Draco, she bent over so that her nose was brushing up against Draco’s cloth covered groin. After a moment, Hermione stood and announced: “I can see... or rather... I can smell... that you two have met already. You really should clean up after doing that. It’s not proper and ladylike. Your mum would be cross with you, young lady.”

Ginny’s heart was pounding in fear. Neville had been killed in a horrible and brutal way and now she was terrified that she and Draco would face the same fate. Even though a part of her already knew the answer, she couldn’t believe that her friends, Harry and Hermione, could have done something so heinous. Ginny had to know for certain. With a tremble in her voice, she asked Hermione; “Did you kill Neville?”

“No, I didn’t,” Hermione said in a bored way. The red head felt a wave of relief wash over her; if Harry and Hermione hadn’t killed Neville, then she and Draco were safe.

“Harry killed him and I watched,” Hermione added unconditionally. “It was so wonderful.”

A soft glow graced Hermione’s pale cheeks as she wobbled back to where Ginny was bound.

Fear gripped Ginny once again. She and her lover were trapped in a house with murderers who were obviously insane and had killed poor Neville. She asked; “Why did you do it?”

“You’d find it to be a rather dull story; full of lies, betrayal, and pain,” Hermione said dismissively. “You had to be there to really appreciate it.”

With a soft grunt, Hermione plopped down in Ginny’s lap once more. She cradled Ginny’s face in her hands and snuggled against her cheek.

“Harry, don’t be rude,” Hermione chastised lightly. “Say hello to Ginny.”

The white haired man complied by turning around to face the red head.

It truly was Harry, and what she saw sickened Ginny. His face was drawn and gaunt, much like Hermione’s. The wizard’s once black hair, which Ginny recalled running her fingers through during their short relationship, had turned stark white. His lips were closed shut in a half frown and his brow was knitted in a scowl. But what shocked Ginny the most were two large and deep scars, each one starting from the corner of his lips and curving up in a half crescent to end high on his cheeks, between his ears and eyes. The end result of these scars gave a crude and disgusting appearance of a comically broad grin.

But Harry’s eyes mesmerized Ginny. They were full of pain, anguish, and sorrow. But beneath the pain, Ginny saw a spark of love and hope.

“He is beautiful, isn’t he,” Hermione sighed happily while she stroked Ginny’s face. Her cold eyes sparkled momentarily as they gazed upon Harry. “My smiling man.”

“Wh-what h-happened to you?” Ginny stammered out.

“Draco didn’t tell you?” Hermione said in a distracted fashion as she continued to look at Harry. “He was there when they brought us in and began to torture us.”

Ginny shook her head. It wasn’t true, Draco would’ve told her.

“He stood off in the back as Harry, Ron, and I were stripped,” added Hermione. “I saw him grow pale when one of his companions forced my legs open. But I don’t know if he paled because he was sickened by the fact I was about to be raped and the act was appalling, or if he was sickened that one of his companions would sully his pure blood cock with my Mudblood pussy...” Hermione’s voice was flat and even. She picked at a bit of dirt under her nails, as if she was bored with the subject and it meant nothing.

“Oh, by the way, your brother is dead,” Hermione told Ginny. It was said in an off-handed fashion.

Ginny was surprised to find that she was neither shocked nor saddened by Hermione’s news. A part of her must have realized that Ron had died some time ago and she had slowly and unconsciously accepted it over the last few months.

“I-I t-tried to stop th-them,” Draco stammered.

“No, you didn’t,” the brunette said patronizingly; like she was scolding a small and simple minded child. “Harry was the one who tried to stop them. I remembered it like it was yesterday; he struggled against his bounds and shouted, ‘Don’t you dare touch her!’” Hermione sighed and Ginny felt the brunette’s face become warm for a moment. Then Hermione’s voice turned cruel and harsh. “They slashed open his mouth and cut out his tongue for speaking up; snip-snip! That’s how I know you didn’t try and stop them!” she snapped. Then, as if someone had flipped a switch, Hermione’s voice grew soft and gentle; “Because if you did, Draco, you would have my Harry’s beautiful smile, wouldn’t you? They would’ve cut you up like they did to him.”

Hermione picked up her apple and took a bite. After chewing and swallowing, she added in a casual and conversational manner to Ginny, “I saw him scurry away like a rat when they started to sodomized your brother. You see, some of them got tired of waiting for their turn with me, so they went to the boys. Draco missed out on all the hours of Cruciatus Curses, beatings, and what not that followed.”

“No, it isn’t true,” Ginny choked out. “He would’ve told me if he knew where you were.”

“Yes it is true. I was there, remember; I just told you,” Hermione said as a matter of fact. “Draco is cunning, ambitious, and cruel; a true Slytherin through and through in those aspects. But he lacks the backbone and drive to act on it himself. Not because he’s opposed to it, it’s because he’s a coward. If he couldn’t get one of his goons to do his dirty work, he’d place someone under the Imperius from afar, like he did with Rosmerta and Katie Bell. He couldn’t handle getting his hands dirty, much less watching someone do it.”

“N-no, I went to go get help,” Draco defended. “I couldn’t take them on by myself... there… there were too many of them. When I tried to leave to get help, I was attacked, and that’s why Ginny found me injured...”

“But it’s obvious that you never told Ginny you needed help to save us. Why was that?” Hermione asked with a smirk. She was like a cat playing with a mouse and it was clear that she relished it. “Was it because it was a lie? Was it true that you couldn’t handle doing the dirty work and you ran like a coward that you are?”

“You stupid-” Draco barked.

Harry’s fist flew like a shot and slammed into Draco’s face. The blond wizard yelped in pain and a small amount of blood spattered on the wall next to him as his lip split open from the blow.

“But you couldn’t be alone and defenseless,” Hermione continued. “Lord knows how much of a pussy you are. You had to find someone to be you patsy, someone to defend you. Luckily you found Ginny, brainless bint that she is...”

Hermione paused and kissed the red head on the cheek. “Sorry Gin Gin, but it’s true; you’re painfully dim.

“But you couldn’t just tell her you wanted protection, no,” the brunette continued to speak to Draco. “You needed someone completely devoted to you. Having someone like that has other benefits besides protection; like blow jobs in other people’s kitchens for instance.”

“Ginny, my love, don’t listen to her,” Draco pleaded as blood dribbled down his chin. He kept a fearful eye on Harry, dreading another strike from the white haired wizard. “She’s mad! I love you!”

“Why didn’t you tell me you knew where they were?” Ginny asked as tears streamed down her face. She waited for a response, some sort of reassurance from her lover that what Hermione had said was not true. But the blond wizard hung there, his mouth opening and closing, obviously trying to think up an excuse. Ginny’s heart shattered into a million pieces.

“All right, I admit it: I used you at first,” Draco finally acknowledged. “But… but then I grew to love you. Ginny, I swear that you are the best thing to ever happen to me. You are my life! I love you!” There was naked fear in his voice but there was no hint of deception.

The fact that Draco wasn’t lying did not comfort Ginny; he had just admitted to lying to her and using her. It didn’t matter if he had grown to love her; his love blossomed from a lie and for her, the lie corrupted their entire time together. She remembered their first night together and every time since then and she felt dirty and used like a cheap whore.

“Please, Ginny, I’m sorry I did what I did. You have to help me,” Draco begged. “I know it was a mistake now, but thought that if I told you what I had seen, you would’ve turned me over to the Ministry; I had to protect myself from that.”

Harry took another step toward Draco, and the blond wizard tugged at his invisible bounds.

“Please, Ginny, for the love of all that’s holy, you have to believe me,” Draco said desperately. “I didn’t tell you about what I saw because I thought they were all dead by the time you found me and it was too late to do anything. But I swear to you that I love you...” Ginny hung her head. It was all too much to her to bear. A tear rolled out of Draco’s eye as he spoke; “I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Hermione let out a soft snort and commented snidely, “Coincidentally enough, I think that will happen. Mind you, the rest of your life won’t last very long.”

The blond wizard whimpered pathetically at Hermione’s comment.

“Harry, I think it’s time for my screams,” Hermione said to Harry. The white haired wizard nodded and waved his wand over Draco’s body. With a soft pop, Draco’s clothes disappeared into thin air, leaving him naked.

“Harry’s gotten so good with non verbal incantations,” Hermione whispered proudly into Ginny’s ear. “Then again, he had to, didn’t he?”

Hermione accentuated her comment by opening her mouth wide and sticking her tongue out. As if to show Ginny in a childish fashion that Harry was missing his tongue.

The white haired wizard waved his wand once again and two long needles shimmered into existence. They hovered menacingly on both sides of Draco’s scrotum.

“Oh please, Ginny... help me!” Draco begged. “I love you!”

Ginny watched through her tears as Draco pleaded pitiably and tried to struggle against his bounds. She had killed someone, a friend, in order to protect him. She became a killer out of love and it was all a lie.

Harry waved his wand once more and the needles began to move toward Draco’s testicles. Harry looked over his shoulder at the two witches behind him; his eyes were brimming with compassion and kindness. It was an odd emotion in a situation like the one they were in. Somehow, Ginny was able to understand that all of Harry’s compassion was totally directed to Hermione; not one shred of it was for Ginny. It was as if Ginny no longer mattered to Harry in the slightest. Hermione was the only person he cared about in the entire world.

“PLEASE GINNY!” Draco screamed as the needle points touched his sensitive skin. A second later, his cries suddenly became very high and shrill.

Hermione placed the tip of her forefinger between her teeth and bit down like an excited child on Christmas morning waiting to open her presents. Under Draco’s painful scream, Ginny heard the distinct sound of metal scraping against metal as the two needles met.

* * * * * * *

Two days later, Neville’s neighbors reported that a strange witch was loitering around the Longbottom’s house. Aurors came and found a dazed Ginny with filthy and soiled robes wandering about the back garden.

After she was sent to St. Mungo’s, Ginny told a tale of how Draco had placed her under the Imperius Curse and had forced her to be his companion. She went on to say that he grew tired of her and abandoned her at Neville’s house. She had no idea where Draco went or why Neville was missing.

Since Ginny came from a good family, they assumed she was telling the truth and saw no reason to use Veritaserum on her. They chalked her up as another victim of a dark wizard and no charges were pressed against her.

Ginny kept the truth to herself; that after Draco had died, which took a full eight hours, Hermione transfigured his and Neville’s bodies into trash and threw them into the fireplace. Or how Harry and Hermione had cuddled and the witch whispered lovingly into the wizard’s ear for an hour or so before he picked her up in his arms and carried her out of the house to god knows where. Nor did she tell anyone that she had waited a full day alone with her thoughts of betrayal and memories of Draco’s torture, magically tied to that chair, waiting for the spell to wear off.

When the Aurors let Ginny go, she returned to the Burrow and the fragments of her old life. Her parents and surviving brothers welcomed her back with open arms.

But Ginny was never the same, Draco had scarred her. He had used her and she vowed never to be taken advantage of again by anyone. Whenever a wizard attempted to speak to her, she treated that man as if he was going to use and betray her just as Draco had.

There were a few times she was able to meet a nice wizard and she did date them. But the moment the wizard smiled at her, Ginny was reminded of Harry’s cruel smile-like scars. This led to the memories of Draco’s screams and the images of his blood splashing on the floor welling up in her mind.

By the time she was thirty, Ginny became a complete recluse in hopes of avoiding anything that would remind her of that day. She left her room in the Burrow only to fetch food. She lived her life alone.

But her solitude didn’t stop the memories of that fateful day. The image of Harry’s grotesquely smiling face had burned itself into her mind. She began to see it every time she closed her eyes. And Hermione’s cheers and laughter echoed in her ears whenever Ginny heard the wind rustle. By the time she turned thirty-eight, Ginny was nothing more than a shell of a witch; huddled in her bed, sobbing.

Every night, she was assaulted by horrible nightmares of what a smiling Harry did to Draco and how Hermione giggled like a school girl over his pain until her dying day.

The End