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Cursing the Unforgivables	By : verdeveritas Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 2120 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and do not receive any financial gain from these stories.

Chapter List
- 1-Flash Forward
- 1
Author's Note: This will likely become a darker fic. This is an AU set after "Goblet of Fire" wherein Hermione gets sick and tired of doing what she's told and decides to take matters into her own hands after the death of her parents. I'm posting this to gauge interest. This is a future look at what may come to pass, should all you lovely people decide you're interested...or if I just feel like screaming into the void of obscurity.
Hermione felt as if her throat was on fire. Gasping for air, she paused while she took stock of her surroundings. She had lost sight of Harry and Draco some time ago and was separated from the Order in the fight.
There were fires here and there throughout the hallways. Not too mention the bodies. She hadn't spotted any friendlies in a while, thankfully. She was nearly positive the din of the battle would be chaotic if she had been able to hear anything other than her heartbeat and rapid breathing.
The plan had been for Hermione, Harry, and Draco to track down the psychotic prick and kill him before he could even get to Hogwarts. Unfortunately, Dumbledore the dotty, had forgotten to mention Harry was, in fact, a Horcrux. Oh, and that several other Horcruxes were needing to be destroyed. Needless to say, a wrench had just been thrown into their very careful plans, and Hermione needed to get to Harry and Draco and get them the hell out of the Manor before they were killed.
Worse yet, Draco had probably been ousted as her ally. That was not good. Hermione Jean Granger Ollivander was brilliant. She'd outwitted Dumbledore, she had played Voldemort for a fool, and she could certainly find her way out this mess, with her friends, alive, permitted she could find them. If they weren't already dead.
"Think!" she inwardly berated herself. She cast a disillusionment charm to buy herself some time. There had to be a way to contact them. Draco had keyed their magical signatures into the wards so they could disapparate if they'd needed to, and they needed to.
"Hermione you idiot!" She pulled a necklace out of her shirt, on which dangled a golden charmed Galleon. She had made a special set for Draco, Harry, and herself in case of something like this.
"Not safe. Back to HQ - HG"
It was all she could do to hope they would listen and disapparate immediately. She took a deep breath and took her advice and disappeared with a "pop" so quiet it hadn't even been noticed by the Death Eaters who were rounding the corner.
Dropping the disillusionment charm, Hermione reappeared covered in soot, blood, and who knows what else in the foyer of Grimmauld Place. Harry, Hermione, and Draco had been using Grimmauld at the behest of Remus and Sirius when they needed a safe place to meet, which was often. What they were trying to do was dangerous, and they couldn't have just anyone listening in to their plans. The Room of Requirement would have been safe enough, if not for the bumbling ineptitude and nosiness of Dumbledore. No, Grimmauld was safer, especially since no one could be granted entrance without Sirius' say so. He had essentially given Hermione, Harry, and Draco carte blanche to come and go as they pleased since The Burrow was being used as the Headquarters for The Order of the Phoenix.
Hermione cast a silent scourgify on her person, cleansing the worst of the extraneous scents and grime from her person. She immediately set to pacing, waiting for the arrival of Draco and Harry. Step, step, step, step, step, turn in front of the fireplace. Step, step, step, step, step, turn. Hermione paced single mindedly back and forth, not noticing Sirius and Remus standing in the doorway studying her. Step, step, step. Hermione's brow was furrowed with worry, she started muttering something under her breath.
"Hermione! Stop pacing, and tell us what happened," interjected Remus. He could see she was troubled; he could hear her heartrate was elevated, and he thought he smelled a faint whiff of blood and smoke.

"Dumbledore withheld that Voldemort has a fucking Horcrux! Not just one fucking Horcrux, several! We don't know what they are, other than Harry is one of them!" Hermione started yelling at them. Her hair was frizzy, sparking on the ends. Her eyes were a golden brown as opposed to her normally chocolate brown. Her hands were flying around her as she spoke, furious and not caring who heard about it.
"FUCKING HORCRUX!" Sirius exclaimed at her. Hermione gave and infinitesimal nod of her head, barely moving her chin in confirmation.

"Hermione, where are Harry and Draco?" Remus asked, almost too quiet for her to hear.
"I told them to get out. I'm waiting for them to get back here. Draco had keyed us into the wards, so we could disapparate in case of trouble. Smart of him, too."

"Are you fucking kidding me?! Dumbledore might have said something, for fuck's sake! He hasn't even told the Order that! They're not back yet? How long have you been back?"
"She's only been here for about three minutes, Padfoot. I heard her when she got here," supplied Remus.

"They should be here soon. They may not have been able to come straight here. I got separated from them and I wasn't in combat," Hermione explained, an edge to her voice that Sirius could only describe as fury, fear, and worry all rolled into one.

A loud crack, sounded from some other part of the house. Knowing that could only be Harry or Draco, Remus took off to what he thought was likely the library. Sirius and Hermione were quick to follow at his heels, hoping neither of them were injured, or worse.
Rounding the corner, Hermione could see Harry and Draco sitting on the floor of the library, backs to one of the sofa's, breathing heavily. Hermione rushed forward and cast several spells to ensure they wouldn't need medical attention, and thankfully everything turned up green. She cast a scourgify over the both of them, making sure they didn't have an smaller wounds which would need tending.

"What the fuck happened Granger!?" Draco never addressed her as Granger anymore, not unless he was emotional in one way or another. To be fair, it was not a great day. He had been calling her Hermione or Ollivander for years now, and the fact he had slipped and referred to her by her former name told her he was not pleased.

"Well, the doddering old fool neglected to inform anyone that Harry is one of Voldemort's many Horcruxes. Seeing as how I was fortunate enough to overhear this information from Bellatrix before I transported her to Azkaban, I thought it would be best we got the fuck out of there before we all died!" Hermione was breathing heavily, but Remus could see that her posture had relaxed some since their return. "Did they make you?"
"I'm not sure. I have no way of knowing," Draco said clearly. He wasn't sure if he had been seen or not. He hadn't been hiding, though he hadn't attacked anyone either.

"Shite! Fucking Dumbledore and his fucking secret plots!"
"Good thinking, using the Galleons. If you'd been any slower it may have all been for naught," said Harry. He seemed no worse for wear. "What the fuck is a Horcrux?"
Hermione, Remus, Sirius, and Draco all shared a furtive glance at one another. No one wanted to tell Harry Potter, the Chosen One, that a piece of Voldemort's disgusting soul was living inside of him. No one wanted to deliver that news on the best of days.

"Sirius, can you take this one? I think I've lost the plot," grumbled Hermione. Losing all her energy, the adrenaline sapped her body, and she sank into one of the arm chairs nearby Draco and Harry, using her wand to pour some firewhiskey into a tumbler and levitate it into her waiting hand.

"Right, okay," Sirius blew out a breath, trying to figure out how best to say it. "Harry, a Horcrux is a very nasty bit of dark magic. Basically, a Horcrux is a piece of someone’s soul they’ve severed with the intention of imbuing it into an inanimate object for safekeeping. It’s most likely the explanation for how Moldy Voldy has returned from the dead so many times,” Sirius said gently.
“So, what you’re saying, is I have some of that psychopath in my head. In my soul?!”
“Yes, son, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“What the actual fuck!? How could Dumbledore not tell me this! The fucking diary? The Parseltongue!? Why wouldn’t he have said something?!”

“I don’t know, Harry,” said Sirius, moving to sit next to him throwing his arm around his shoulders, “but the fact that he didn’t leaves me to believe he’s up to more than we know. And I’m fucking pissed at him right now. The only reason I’m being this calm is honestly because I know you’re not calm at all and you need me right now. Otherwise, I may have already killed the old fool myself.”

“Padfoot, let’s not yeah? Let me see what more I can find about Horcruxes. It’s not something I’ve studied extensively but I’m certain I can find more information and maybe some answers.”

“How did this happen to me? I was alive! I’m not dead!”
Draco and Hermione exchanged a glance. “Look mate, I think what might have happened is that when your Mum protected you, it created a kind of shield which rebounded the curse on him, essentially killing him and at the same time splitting his soul because he had cast the curse. It’s likely that bit of his soul latched onto you, because you were there,” Draco replied hesitantly. He looked to Remus for confirmation of his theory.
“That’s as good a theory as any,” Remus confirmed.
“Fuck! How in the hell am I supposed to get this thing out of me?” Harry asked, disbelief and pain in his voice.

“I’ll look into that. Right now, why don’t the three of you get some sleep?”
Hermione took a long pull from her tumbler of firewhiskey, no longer feeling anything but joy at the burn that slid down her throat. She used to hate it when the boys drank, but not anymore. Now it was something she needed to calm her nerves.

Absentmindedly, Hermione flicked her wand and set to making glasses for everyone else as well. It was going to be a rough fucking year.
- 1
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Cursing the Unforgivables