Requital by Msscribe
Rating: R- (edited version). Full NC17 version on www.portkey.org.
Ships: H/Hr
Type: Angst\ Romance\ Action Adventure
Summary: A story of Hermione Granger coming to terms with her greatest loss, finding her own voice and strength, and coming of age in a world battered by a never-ending war.
Disclaimer: No profits are being made off the fiction on these pages. Harry Potter, associated characters and the associated Harry Potter universe is © J. K. Rowling and respective publishers. Fanfiction is fiction-it's not meant to be taken seriously in the least.
(A/N: So happy you are still here, reading. Thanks to Clarabella_21 for the supportive emails and to Missy for the plug on portkey.org. Enjoy.) Chapter 10 - Beauties and Beasts
"It's been a long time since I've had the pleasure of seeing you Sirius," Shara said.
Sirius guffawed. "Must be that you have a wide definition of what's pleasurable."
"Not at all," she whispered, her eyes staying fixed on his a little too long.
Shara walked across the office and unfastened the door of a cabinet that held a meager stock of wine and butterbeer.
"Have you all decided where you will be spending the night? If not, I will offer my home to you. I have five bedrooms that go unused most of the time…I'm sure you will find it very comfortable," Shara said.
Hermione hadn't considered that she would be spending the night. When she looked around however, no one else looked surprised.
Sirius could have mentioned that before.
"We would be honored Madam Fonta," Sirius replied.
"I will bring my sight crystal home with us…it will be a more intimate setting there," Shara said.
Christ, thought Hermione, a bloody divination expert.
Shara paused for a moment, as if she had heard Hermione's thoughts, and began to pour the wine.
#
The ringmaster looked upon the Hellions being born in silence, lost in wonder …awed by their beauty. He found them to be majestic. Even a human as dark as Lucius Malfoy would probably only look on them with disgust, but the ringmaster looked on them with much admiration. It was true, they were the lowliest of all Hell's creations, but they were something to behold.
He would have to close the gateway soon. They could only sustain a few more until Maedon's revelation.
A transparent curtain of blue light encompassed the room, and one by one they rose from hidden patches in the ground. They were nearly one quarter the height of a human, with flat round faces and arms as long as their bodies. Their eyes were clear, and they reflected what they looked upon like a mirror. The curve of their mouths overflowed with powerful teeth, strong enough to tear through flesh as easy as a hot knife slicing through butter.
It still amazed him, watching them teeter around on their short, but powerful limbs; legs and arms that could carry them gracefully and quickly even over the largest obstacles. He adored running his hands over their luminous green skin, and their huge necks that were thick as a tree stump.
Beloved children.
They began to chant, whining and crying.
"Shhhh…. you will be fed. I promise you will soon be fed."
The Muggle man in the corner, who had thought he was only in for a brutal beating after failing to pay his gambling debt, had his eyes locked on the creatures in disbelief.
It was all a dream, some horrible dream, the man thought, hot tears now blurring his vision.
"Kasssshhhhhhhh….ssssaaaaa…." the ringmaster hissed, letting the creatures get the scent of a hat he had removed from the pathetic human who had begged the tall man for more time to pay what he owed.
He would be paying his debt now.
The Hellions were upon him then, and as blood sprayed from the man's jugular like a thick red waterfall, the ringmaster thought to himself how satisfying it all was, watching their hunger being satiated.
#
They sat in a circle in Shara Fonta's living room, the rhythm of her grandfather clock ticking away in the background keeping them all remarkably focused.
The night was so quiet that it seemed as if the whole world had stopped breathing.
Shara spoke in a low, boozy voice as Hermione let her eyes wander, scrutinizing the pictures on Shara's wall. Her eyes fell on a picture of Shara with Sirius, standing in front a mountain. They were both much younger then, and Hermione wondered what exactly their relationship had been.
"The first time I laid eyes upon the evil I believe you are facing, I did what I thought was right, running to the Ministry for help. They didn't believe me then, and it is true that some do not believe me now," Shara said, glancing at Hermione, "but I have seen them. I have seen them devour men alive. Sirius and I believe they took part in the attacks at Cairo."
Shara stopped then, swallowing hard at the thought.
"What are these things, and what is it that they wanted in Cairo? I thought death eaters were responsible for the massacre there," Harry asked.
Shara looked over at Sirius.
"These things aren't human. They were looking for objects of power. They left with quite a few of these things, I only managed to save a few," Sirius said.
Sirius looked solemnly at Hermione, who seemed sealed away inside of herself.
"Time is everything now," Sirius said gravely.
Hermione's grandmother once told her that she was always safe so long as she didn't lose her head. The thought of Death Eaters in possession of the wizarding world's most powerful objects threatened to knock it right off of her shoulders.
"Demons," Cho Chang said once again announcing her theory without much emotion, "straight from hell."
Harry and Neville sat motionless while Ron nervously tapped his hand on the ground. Hermione brought her knees up to her chest, breathing out slowly, gaining control of her thoughts.
Harry adjusted his position and turned to look at his godfather. "You and Shara believe Voldemort was working for Demons, and these Demons helped to raid Cairo?"
Shara Fonta blinked mildly and grimaced. "I have come to believe that Tom Riddle was working with these entities…demons or otherwise…for something else. Something I can't seem to see, no matter how hard I try," she said moving about the room now in a slow and downcast way, "I am denied sight of it…but I do see you Hermione Granger. You are key to it; I see your face every time I have one of these visions. I only wish I could fully understand how you fit into the puzzle. That's part of the reason Sirius brought you here, so we could try to see more…see why it is that your parents were taken from you…why they are looking for, or have found a book that your family possessed that no one else ever did," she explained, sitting next to Hermione and taking her hand. Hermione pulled it away.
"This is crazy! You actually believe her?" Hermione said turning towards Sirius, then looking at her fellow Aurors, all entranced by Shara's words.
"Hermione…please hear Shara out," Sirius said.
Harry gave are a pleading look. Ron refused to meet her gaze. She was outnumbered. She'd be forced to go through with this now.
I think this is wasting valuable time. Time we could be spending tracking down these things, she thought as she relented, holding her hand out for the divine Madam Fonta.
#
The air in the Burrow seemed too warm for Draco Malfoy. It was hot, and filled with dust.
When Ginny had brought him there that afternoon, Draco wasn't sure what to expect. He had bowed over Mrs. Weasley's hand, as he was used to doing for the wives of so many of his father's cohorts, but she had pulled it away and out of sight, shoving her sweaty palm into the pocket of her apron.
Mrs. Weasley was dressed in a robe of the dullest purple, and her hair was frizzy and dried out. There was a sticky plaster like substance on her lip that Draco later learned was icing from the birthday cake she was baking for Fred and George. Her cheeks looked puffy and sullen, like she had been crying.
She was kind to him nonetheless, her first words expressing sympathy for the loss of his mother. She was less kind to Ginny, and they vanished into the kitchen without him, for a mother daughter "chat". When they returned a few moments later, Ginny's eyes were swollen, filled with emotion.
Draco looked soberly at the cabinets, the simple furnishings that filled the room, a collection of old drapes and worn pillows.
He felt like he was going to burst into flames at any moment.
Mrs. Weasley offered him pumpkin juice and he gladly accepted it. She then sat back in her seat with a vacant face, staring at the young man her daughter professed to love.
Draco could feel the blood draining from his face.
"I could lie to you if you'd prefer," Mrs. Weasley said finally, "but I'd rather not. There has never been a Malfoy that could be trusted, and while I accept my husband's decision to keep you safe from harm I do not trust you. So long as you are under our roof, under our protection you will abide by our rules. I do not approve of your involvement with my daughter and I would have preferred you stay at a safe house, but Mr. Weasley has informed me that security at the Ministry has unfortunately been compromised. He believes your father may seek you out, and he wishes to keep you near."
Draco couldn't think of what to say or do. Since he had the cup in his hand, he took a sip. For a moment, the pumpkin juice carried him back to Hogwarts, the only place he had ever really felt safe.
Tears welled up again in Ginny's eyes and she grabbed Draco's free hand in defiance of her mother's frank words.
"I don't hate you, but please try to understand," Mrs. Weasley said, her voice softening some.
Draco Malfoy understood.
He hated his father, almost dispassionately now, but was still doomed to forever live in his shadow.
#
Hermione's brain was working at rapid speed, trying to solve the complexity of this mad fantasy she had been propelled into the instant Shara Fonta took hold of her hand.
A beautiful woman is standing with sad eyes, in the corner of the bright blue room in which Hermione now stands. She can't quite see her face. As she draws closer to the woman, Hermione sees something familiar about her…what is it?
"Nora, do it. You must destroy them," the woman begs, staring at Hermione who is still the same distance away… even after she has taken at least ten steps forward.
She walks through a tall black shadow and an image of a beautiful child, with silver hair…an angel perhaps… flashes quickly. Hermione tries to focus again, but her eyes burn.
Someone trips her, and the wet dirt slips through her hands. She can feel it. It reminds her of her backyard playground…
"Do it Nora…do it please." the woman pleads again, this time with an unnatural calmness.
"What is it that I must do?" Hermione asks, standing again, trying to see the woman's face more clearly.
The woman tries to speak, and something lashes out at her face. A blur.
Hermione is frozen. She struggles to try to break free, enraged by her sudden immobility.
"Nora Mills…find the words," the woman says, now trembling, eyes wide with fear, dabbing at the blood that is seeping from her lip.
Hermione crouches, cowering against the back wall as strange beings pass over her head. The entities ensue the woman, dragging her back into the shadows.
Wet hot liquid sprays on Hermione's face…She can taste it…its blood, a mix of old iron and mysterious sweet.
They watched as Hermione thrashed on Shara's living room floor. She was unconscious, and Sirius was trying desperately to wake her. Harry wiped the sweat from her forehead, holding her hand. He was helpless, barred from her violent visions.
#
In the shadow crowded room, Lucius Malfoy stood, staring at his eager horde of butchers.
The foul smelling creatures that had remained when Locust had left Malfoy Manor were standing perfectly still now, resting against the back wall like gargoyles. Lucius hadn't yet called upon them to do his bidding, but he thought perhaps it was time.
Locust had left instructions after all, and they were a gift to be utilized, not to simply become the distasteful decoration they were now.
He held out an old tattered Quidditch shirt to the beast in the front. It's eyes opened and its mouth began to drool. Lucius could see himself reflected in them.
It gnashed its teeth, groaning and hissing in anticipation.
"Draco Malfoy," Lucius said.
It sped away then, out of the window and into the black night… in search of it's promised meal.
#
"Hermione…Hermione," Harry said, standing over her.
Shara knelt beside her with water, offering it to the girl. Hermione sat up to accept it, and looked around the room. Harry wrapped her in his arms.
"Are you alright?" he asked.
She nodded yes, but she was still unsure if she was or not.
"What happened?" Hermione asked.
Cho looked over at her with concern and relief.
"We were hoping you could tell us," she said.
Ron stood next to Sirius, his eyes filled with worry. Neville returned with a chocolate frog, handing it to the terror-stricken Hermione.
Hermione tried to pull herself together. She needed to be clear about what she saw.
"Nora…I blacked out and a woman was calling me Nora…" she began, as they helped her to her feet.
#
It was 9:00 pm at the Burrow, and other then the noises Mrs. Weasley made as she cleaned in the kitchen, the only sounds were the buzzing of the television in the den and the wailing of the cold winter wind as it constrained against the back door.
Mrs. Weasley stopped sweeping the floor at the sound of something rushing by.
"Is that you Ginny?" she demanded.
Silence.
She felt a little foolish then, but looked behind the counter anyway.
Nothing there.
She had had a terribly stressful day. Perhaps she should go to bed.
She walked up the stairs, checking in on Draco along the way.
There will be no sneaking around in my house, she thought as she put a locking spell on Draco's door.
#
"I need to see Mr. Weasley," Lois Mills demanded.
The guard at her door gave her a questionable glance.
"I know what's missing. There is a book missing from my box, a book my sister and I had as a child."
The guard pointed over to a pad and paper on the desk in her room.
"Mr. Weasley isn't here, but we can send him an owl."
"A what?"
"An owl," the young man said again.
Damn Muggles
"Couldn't we telephone him?"
The guard was most uninterested.
He was missing an important Quidditch match tonight, and he was less than happy about having to put up with this finicky Muggle woman.
#
"Are you planning to share a room with Hermione tonight?" Sirius asked bluntly, when Harry walked into the room.
Sirius sat in Madam Fonta's kitchen, smoking a cigar. The others had gone to bed. Harry had held Hermione until she drifted into sleep.
"Ron is already in a room with Cho, so I guess I was," Harry confessed, taking a chair beside him.
Sirius took a drag of his cigar, offering it to Harry who turned it down.
"We're together now," Harry said finally.
"I know."
"So what's wrong then?"
Sirius' expression grew bitter.
"Nothing is wrong, except she's gone through a lot of changes since her parents died. I think she's still grieving her loss and I think that you sleeping with her is probably complicating things more. I can't help but think you might be taking advantage…I thought…" Sirius said, stopping himself short.
Harry sharply drew in his breath.
"You just thought I was more responsible then that…is that what you were going to say?"
"Yes, that's exactly what I was going to say. …"
"I didn't plan it Sirius…it just happened,"
"Well, it happened right before what is going to be the fight of your life! Her life!" Sirius replied angrily.
Harry was gripping the side of the table so hard that the muscles in his hands ached. The knots in his stomach were painfully tight. They had never had this sort of tension between them before.
"It's always the bloody fight of my life! When the hell is it that I actually get to live this precious life I'm so frequently risking death for!"
They both sat, red faced, silent.
"I love her, and I promise I'm not taking advantage of her," Harry sighed, still bewildered by Sirius' reaction.
"I know."
"So why is it wrong to be with her?"
Sirius turned to Harry with a thoughtful, paternal look in his eyes.
"It isn't," Sirius said, "I'm sorry for being a bastard, but time is not exactly on our side this time Harry."
"Loving her won't cause me to lose sight of what I need to do. And it won't do that to Hermione either. You know Hermione…she's like …a daughter to you…" Harry said, finally understanding.
Sirius squashed the cigar in the oddly shaped ceramic ashtray, and they sat there, like two soldiers waiting for the war to start.
#
Draco lay in Ronald Weasley's bed hoping to God that Mrs. Weasley had washed the sheets.
He had seriously contemplated sleeping on the floor.
Ginny was sound asleep down the hall and Draco was tempted to sneak down to her room, but he didn't exactly want to find himself at the end of Arthur Weasley's wand.
It could have been worse. Ginny said Ron's room used to be in the attic.
So he lay there, grieving for his mother, unable to sleep on Ron's lumpy mattress.
He laughed a little to himself. Ron would be in absolute Hell if he knew Draco was sleeping there.
That's when he heard it, panting like a dog on the other side of his door.
Did the Weasley's have a dog?
He waited.
There was only the sound of Arthur Weasley's snoring at the end of the Hall. Draco thought that it sounded like the elder Weasley might have some sort of sinus disorder.
Someone tried to turn the knob. The door was locked.
Christ, they locked me inside, he thought, not knowing it was a blessing.
There was another breathy pant, and something began violently shredding through Ronald Weasley's bedroom door.
Draco Malfoy scrambled to his feet, grabbing for his wand.
He saw its flat head through the now gaping hole, and it's arms struggling to pull the length of its body through the splintery opening.
He screamed like an eleven-year-old girl.
"Draco!!!" Ginny Weasley cried.
"Stay Back!" Arthur Weasley said ordering his wife and daughter into the closest bathroom and watching this monster rip it's way into Draco's room.
Ginny didn't listen. She tossed her shoe at the thing, hitting it across its hind legs. The creature didn't seem to notice.
"Impediamenta!" Draco managed to stumble out.
It had no effect, and the beast continued to make it's way through the door. Draco Malfoy pried open Ron's window shutting it behind him. He climbed outside in the cold wearing nothing but his shorts, carefully scaling the wall to get to the ground. He hung on to protruding panels of mismatched siding; thankful the Weasley's were always too poor to get them fixed. His wand was tucked into his waistband.
Arthur Weasley had run back to the bedroom to get something, but when he returned, the creature had whizzed passed Ginny and was headed downstairs. Ginny was following it, screaming at the beast. It was ignoring her. Arthur Weasley followed close behind them.
It only wanted Draco.
When Draco's feet hit the ground he heard it again. It was running towards him. He lifted his wand.
"Avada Kedavra!" he said.
The burst of green flame from his wand went straight through the beast, and it continued towards him, not missing a step.
He ran. As fast as his feet could take him.
Draco could hear Ginny's voice fading. Arthur Weasley was shouting some sort of rhyme.
The creature was getting closer.
It grabbed onto Draco's foot, pulling him to the ground.
Draco cried out in pain, as it ripped into his skin. Ginny screamed again.
Draco heard a loud and violent explosion, and a flash of white light. There was an inhuman shriek, and the creature collapsed on top of him, drenching him in its warm sticky blood. Draco pulled the creature's large teeth from his calf, moaning as Ginny helped him to his feet.
The creature lay on the ground in a bloody heap. Arthur Weasley stood behind it with a small glass triangle, an object he didn't know he'd have to use so soon.
Draco tried to catch his breath as Ginny embraced him. His own blood was gushing down to the ground, and Ginny ripped off the sleeve of her pajama top to tie around his wound.
Arthur bent down to get a better look. The creature's skin had started to bubble and boil, just like Sirius Black said it would.
My God, Sirius was right all along, Arthur thought.
They stood and watched as it melted into the ground, leaving nothing behind.