Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

By The Light	By : lycanthrope Category: Harry Potter > FemSlash - Female/Female Views: 17685 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: All of the characters portrayed in this fic (apart from Jamie.) and all other creations existing within the world Of Harry Potter are the creative genius of J.K Rowling, I make no profit from the writing or posting of this fan fiction.

Chapter List
- 10
- 11
- 12
Chapter 11

Okay. Take a breath and count backwards from ten, you are capable of this and you will not allow it to best you. Just one final attempt, then I will have grounds to lose my temper and if that happens I swear there will be Tartarus to pay.

Putting my shoulder against the side of the door I forcefully shove the hinges back into place, the old wood resisting my effort and pressing into my torso, splintering against my flesh. With a click it pushes into place and the whole weight of the door bears down on my shoulder, reminding me that if I move away now that it will not hold in place. With my collarbone still pushed almost painfully against the battered timber, I manage to pull my wand around and rest my arm against the old withered lumber and point the tip towards the hinge.

The words of my spell are the very tip of my tongue when four small words startle me. “What are you doing?” I jump, very nearly out of my skin, pulling away from the unexpected noise close to my vulnerable back, clumsily spinning midair and aiming my wand towards the raised eyebrow of Ginny Weasley. Her eyes move from the tip of my wand to my face and back again. “What are you doing?” She repeats, her voice taking on a very amused tone.

“I...” My voice catches in my throat, not really having an acceptable answer as to why I just nearly hexed the girl into the middle of next week. It takes a moment of my eyes darting all around her for me to notice she is alone and not bearing arms, with this knowledge my stance relaxes. Still fumbling around in my head for an answer to her very simple question, “Well, I...” I frown at my own stuttering. It's not often I have to go from mildly relaxed to high alert and then back again in such a short period of time, the effect of which is disorientating at best. “What on Earth are you doing here?” In the absence of a logical answer I jump to the offensive.

Her arms cross over her chest as she regards me. “You're a little jumpy.” She observes.

“Yeah. Well...” Taking a breath and pulling myself into a standing position so I do not appear threatening I try to find the words to continue. “Don't sneak up on me.”

“I wasn't sneaking. You were just engrossed with your door.” How exactly is she able to make that sentence sound as though she thinks I'm truly insane? “What are you doing anyway?”

“I'm fixing the hinge.”

“Oh.” She leans forward and turns her gaze to the doorway. I quickly lean forward and pull the door towards us, effectively shielding my one private space from her prying eyes. She furrows her brow but makes no comment on my actions. “Do you need a hand?”

I clear my throat, pretending to consider accepting her offer of aid. The truth is another pair of hands would be useful. However this would, for one, let her see and enter my personal space when I have spent many long hours putting up wards and charms to prevent such a thing from happening. Secondly, I would be accepting her aid, thus showing that I am unable to complete the task without it. After so long of hiding all of my vulnerability for fear they would be used against me, it is more than a little difficult to let them show to this group of people, of which I appear to have fallen into an uneasy friendship with, due to my relationship with Hermione. “No. I'm fine, thank you.” I pull against the handle so it lifts the door on its old and rotting hinges, slotting it into place against the doorframe. After feeling the wards take effect against my palm I deem it safe to remove and give the red headed girl my full attention. “Can I help you?”

She shrugs slightly and I can see her shaking her head, though I admit I am unsure as to why. “I was just looking for Hermione. Thought she'd be down here with you.”

Holding my arms out wide from my body I indicate the empty hallway we are standing in. “Not here, sorry.”

“I see that.” She slowly nods at me looking behind her in a way that makes her look very uncomfortable with being alone with me. “Any idea where she is?”

“I'm supposed to be meeting her...” After taking a glance at my watch I realize that my duel with the door took far longer than I had anticipated. “Twenty minutes ago.”

With a smile laced through her voice she mocks me. “Best not keep her waiting then.”

“No.” I say clenching my jaw. I push open my door again, dreading having to close it a second time in front of Ginny and reach in, only long enough to pull my heavy outdoor cloak from inside. “Would you care to accompany me?” I add for the sake of civility, pulling my cloak around my shoulders and fastening the clasp.

She smiles so wide she shows her teeth, mischief dancing in her green eyes. “Depends. Would that be cutting into your alone time?”

“Yes.” I answer without pause, my eyebrow lifted in both challenge and question.

She makes a small noise in the back of her throat and shrugs. “I think I can live with that.” After very seriously considering hexing the girl into the middle of next week just because I have the capacity to do so and I am being irritated by her continued presence, I walk past her. Letting let her fall into step at my side. “So...” She says, trying to strike up a conversation. Just letting the word hang there for many long moments, as if I could grasp the direction of her thoughts with one very small, very vague word. I continue to wordlessly make my way to the Entrance Hall. Hoping that she will drop this subject, whatever it may be and I may be left to walk in silence. I have no such look and she finishes the thought just as I open one of the large oak doors at the front of the castle. “You and Hermione? How's that going?”

Now I must not only endure her persistent attendance now I must be bombarded with her need to meddle into my personal affairs. It almost makes me miss the times before my relationship with Hermione was public knowledge. At the very least I did not have a constant air of curiously in the eyes that follow us throughout the castle hallways. Whispering their gossip behind their hands. “Fine.” I answer in a clipped tone.

“My. You are talkative.” She says with sarcasm as we push out into the castle grounds and I set a fast pace towards the Black Lake, a fresh layer of snow crunching beneath our feet with every footfall. “How does she put up with you?” The only answer she receives is a sidelong searing glare, which provokes nothing more than a smile to grace her features. She's trying and I must admit succeeding in pressing my buttons and evoking a reaction of some sort. “You don't like me very much do you?”

Gritting my teeth, so I don't openly agree with her, I take a moment to choose my words carefully. “I don't know you.”

She openly laughs at me then quickly draws her arms around her chest against the winter chill in the air. “I suppose it doesn’t really matter either way.” She lapses into silence again, which I am infinitely grateful for. That is until she turns back to me, all manner of jest leaving her body and she looks upon me with a serious expression on her face. “Hermione is my friend. My best friend, we've been through a lot together. Now I don't know how to say this without wading through lots of bullshit and neither of us wants that.” She pulls on my arm and we both draw to a halt and I give her my full attention. “You hurt her, I hurt you. It's as simple as that.” For a moment I stand and blink at her in shock. Is she truly threatening me? “In a fair fight you could probably beat me. But if you ever make her cry you better sleep with one eye open.”

Somewhere in the back of my mind a little bit of respect begins to form for the youngest Weasley. She may not be fully aware of my abilities but she does know that I am a year her senior and therefore must have an advantage over her. Yet she still seeks me out and threatens me, out of some strong sense of loyalty for her friend. Considering her friend is someone I have come to care for deeply, it is no small comfort to know a girl such as this will protect Hermione with such ferocity, even if it is from me. With a small bow of my head I show my respect in the only way I know how. “I'll be sure to remember that.”

“It would be best if you do.” Her eyes sweep once more over me and her lips pull into a smile. “At least that's over with.” She then turns from me and begins to once more make her way across the frozen ground. The abrupt change in both her manor and subject leaves me still and speechless for a few seconds and I find myself having to jog to catch up with her. As I draw level she begins to speak. “So where are we going anyway?”

Still reeling from the change in her demeanour I answer. “The lake.”

Her nose crinkles in diastase. “At this time of year? Whatever for?”

I shrug my shoulders and let a small private smile cross my face. Hermione likes Black Lake. She once described it to me as the one point of absolute calm in her life. All year round she comes out here, even in weather such as this, ever since she learned the warming charms to take the edge off the cold.

We near her favoured edge of the embankment, the surrounding vegetation hiding the spot from view at most angles. On this particular occasion I discover that the solitude found in this place is far from favourable. The formulator crop of slicked back white blond hair only takes a moment to register in my mind and my wand is pulled from beneath my robes.

My eyes following the line of Malfoy's shoulders, one of them drooped towards the floor. His nose less than a hairs breath from Hermione's cheek. His jaw twitching and moving in speech, his voice too low for me to hear but by the way Hermione has turned her gaze away from him, her hand pushing uselessly against his chest, I'm certain that it can't be anything I would appreciate.

Trailing my eyes further down Malfoy's back my eyes are drawn to his right hand, his fingers pulling up the side of Hermione's skirt in a provocative way. She screams and his other hand snaps over her mouth, his fingers digging into the skin along her cheeks, pulling on her skin. Her screams although muffled do not cease and her struggling intensifies.

I feel my heart start to race in sheer fury and my shoulders bunch ready to attack. My eyes taking on a cold expression as I try to detach myself from the situation enough to be able to react. “Whatever happens, Ginny.” I feel her eyes on me a moment after I call her name. “Do not interfere.”

My stride quickens as I hastily make my way over to the pair, reaching a point only two-steps from his back I level my wand, slicing the tip up through the air, my arm crossing my body with the moment. The wording to the spell falling almost without thought from my lips. “Distinguo!” The spell catches his shoulder and roughly pulls him away from Hermione. The force in which I cast it throwing him through the air, landing heavily on his back several feet from us, the wind knocked clean out of his lungs. The look of horror and surprise on his face does nothing to quench my rage, nor the fire in my belly calling for vengeance.

Hermione reaches out for me and I step away from her touch. Not being able to have her comforting hands upon me when I feel as murderous as I do in this moment. I stride past her, not daring to look in her eyes. Frightened that if I see just a hint of either fear or tears I will tear him limb from limb right before her eyes. Instead deciding to set my sights on the blond headed boy who is slowly regaining his bearings after his flight, bringing his hands up and under his back to try and scramble backwards, away from me along the frozen ground. With my back ridged and my muscles tight I advance on him with long slow strides. “You...” I start, lacing numerous lethal threats throughout that single word.

He stops in his scampering and holds a hand out in front of him in a gesture of surrender. “Now, Desay. Be reasonable.”

“Reasonable?!” I yell, uncaring as my voice echoes across the still and frozen lake. My anger passes the point of reason and my limbs begin to shake because of it. “Under the circumstances I have been more than reasonable!”

He remains stock-still, holding has hand out in a pacifying gesture, just wanting me breath, watching me wait for him to give me a reason. Any motive to cause him pain. Lusting to hears his screams under my ministrations. “Look.” He pushes against the floor, conjuring all of his valour, bringing his feet under him in an effort to stand. “We were just...”

“No.” Aiming my wand at him for a second time, silently pushing him back to the ground, an invisible weight pushing painfully against his chest. He cries out, his back hitting the frozen ground with a hollow thud. “You stay down. I'm not even close to done with you, yet.” Holding my wand out, remaining unblinking even as my eyes begin to burn, forcing the concealed pain upon him, revealing in it as he continues to wither in torment beneath my curse.

Years of training pushes though cognitive thought, pushing reality far from my senses. Forcing me into a state of tunnel vision where there is only my victim and me. Only the curse and the pain.

His hands come up, clawing at his chest, his feet flailing, scraping against the dirt in an attempt to escape the agony I am inflicting upon him. “Stop.” His plea reaches my ears, his voice breaking and contorting under the strain, exciting me to the very bone.

Almost as if detached from my own skin I feel the side of my mouth lift in a feral grin, vaguely aware of an insistent tugging on my cloak and my name being called from behind me. I take a full step forward, closer to my pray and away from those annoying grasping hands. Twisting my wrist so the tip of my wand turns. Another cry of pain escapes his lips and my own experiences with this particular curse tell me that he feels as though his insides are slowly twisting along with the tip of my wand.

Those hands return, grasping the biceps of my upper arm and tugging at me, pulling my aim down and away from my victim. My muscles bunch and fight against the interruption. My name screamed down my ear repeatedly goes completely ignored. While in this state the word meaning nothing, having no place in my ravine of pain and torment.

Another shout erupts from Malfoy's chest. “Stop.” His breath catches and his hips twist against the ground to escape the pain. “She'll see.”

Immediately my eyes close and the curse ends, my jaw clenching beneath my skin my lust for blood and scream unquenched and rationality tugs at the edges of my consciousness, those two little words all that’s needed for a slither of humanity to slither into my mind. With just one breath my mind snaps back to reality and I drop my wand from its pose. Listening to the revealed gasping breaths of Draco Malfoy, Hermione still calling my name so close to my ear that I can feel her breath gliding across my skin. She drops her hand from my upper arm and closes her fingers over my wand. Her voice loses its urgency and she speaks against my flesh. “Let go.” Instinctively my grip tightens the true evilness of my nature may be beginning to retreat back into the darkness but unwilling to relinquish my weapon. “Please Jamie. Just let go.” Having to fight against my tightening muscles, I release the long strip of wood into her waiting grasp. Dragging long breaths in and out of my lungs in an attempt to calm my raging heartbeat. My neck twitching with rage, even as her palm reaches up to cup my face, gently urging my head to turn and I can feel her breath ghosting across my skin “Jamie.” She calls like a sirens song and my eyes open to find her concerned features studying me.

Rather than answer her call verbally my facial muscles tense still further, preventing a reply, two words rolling around in my head. 'She'll see' I almost can't believe he had the presence of mind to say those two words, which may have saved his miserable life. I cannot bear to have her see me like that. Detached and emotionless. I let my defences down and gave her a glimpse into a part of me that should have stayed buried, deep in the pit of my stomach for the rest of time.

Malfoy's laugh breaks the moment and I turn my gaze to watch him shakily clamber to his feet. “This is all very touching. But if you'll excuse us Desay. Me and the mudblood were having a moment.”

Muscles clench and rage threatens to turn my vision scarlet. Without having to think I’m turning toward him, wanting to hear that scream of anguish just one last time. Wanting to feel warm sticky blood passing between my fingers. Wanting to feel bones broken and windpipes crusted beneath my bear hands.

“Don't.” Hermione's voice calls to me, stopping my movement with a grip on the clothing and instantly I relent. “He's not worth it.”

“Oh please, Granger. Of course I am.” My sites set once again on Draco as he pulls the lapels of his robes to straighten them against his back. “But she won’t touch me now. Not with you around.”

I feel the growl rumbling through my throat and my limbs shuddering with restraint.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Hermione asks the blond boy.

The smile he pulls across his face borders on menacing. “She'll never risk you, seeing how evil she really is.”

If I still had my wand in my grip he would no longer be standing, nor breathing for that matter. For the first time I speak, my voice sounding hollow and distant even to my ears. “Hermione. Walk away.”

“No.” She says almost instantly. “You're not staying here.” She holds my gaze for several moments. Her eyes filled with defiance and her stance unwavering. You'd think after being the victim of an assault she would be a little more shook up about the whole thing. Instead she's here, holding my arm in her iron grip, trying to drag me away from her attacker. “Come on.”

Flicking my gaze once more to Malfoy's smiling face I resign myself to the gentle tugging on my arm and allow her to pull me away from the confrontation. Her stride forces me to turn my back and unease settles into my skin with the action. Ginny quickly closes her wide-open mouth with a snap and turns to walk with us.

“Don't go too far mudblood.” Malfoy calls out to our retreating forms. “We weren’t finished.”

When I try to turn again, two sets of hands grip and pull at my clothing and between the two women I am pulled from the clearing and along the shore of the Black Lake. Wordlessly they gently drag me along the water’s edge. The sound of Malfoy's laughter did impede their progress for a moment but between the two of them, they were eventually able to yank me under control.

When we are finally, safely out of earshot, Ginny loosens her grip but does not release me compeltly and pats a hand against my upper arm, pulling my attention in her direction. “Well. That was scary. You never said you could be scary.” The accusation in her tone is easy to hear, followed by her heavy breaths. She receives no answer from either of us and quickly steps ahead, turning on us, to halt our progress through the snow. “What the hell was that?” She shouts pointing one of her fingers in my direction.

Hermione's palm presses harder into the base of my back, presumably to prevent me from turning and finishing what I started only moments ago with the blond haired boy.

Ginny's still frantic breaths assaults my ears for a few long moments and she begins to pace across the small path, which has been cut through the snow. “Seriously. What the hell was all of that?” My anger is still burning against my throat and I find myself unable to answer. Unable to form a thought beyond turning and dashing back towards the black lake, now free from prying and judgmental eyes.

“One of you, fucking answer me!” Ginny's tone and volume rises with each passing syllable, her frantic breaths belaying her unhidden fear.

“Ginny.” Hermione's voice cuts her down, my own still being rendered useless by my seething rage. Yet something in her tone pushes through the sea of madness my mind has been swimming in. Her voice is low and small, where I would have expected her to yell with displeasure at the Ginny's foul language. Looking sidelong at her and letting the fog lift from my eyes I can see her shaking, trembling as she succumbs to her nerves. “Can we please talk about this inside?” Her breathing is shallow and all the colour has drained from her cheeks.

Instantly my anger drains away, replaced almost immediately with a deep concern for the woman still able to grip at my limbs with a will of iron. I had all but ignored her reaction to the events up until now and I am beginning to realize that she was not as unaffected by them as I first thought. “Hermione.” I call, my voice beginning to sound much more normal to my ears. Slowly her head lifts and her brown eyes look so tired, the heavy bags that have settled under them a stark contrast to her almost white skin.

Without further consideration I extract myself from her arms, having to take hold of her wrist when she tries to restrain me. I quickly pull her side on to me and swoop down towards the floor, lifting her legs at the knee. After taking her shoulder in my other arm I lift her, cradling her slight weight against my chest and begin to walk with purpose towards the castle, passing Ginny's shocked face along the way, knowing that without asking she will follow wherever I lead.

It takes only two strides along the frozen ground for Hermione to settle in my arms. Her arms reaching around my shoulders to steady her balance and her forehead pressed tightly against my throat. Her whole body still trembles against me, whether from cold, exertion, or fear I do not know but my only task is to get her shaking body safely inside the castle walls and to the shelter of her private rooms as quickly as I am able.

As I pass beneath the threshold of the castle door I feel the ghost of lips against my throat and a softly whispered “Thank you.” Both of which I am unable to respond to in words so as a token gesture I tighten by grip on her body momentary and head straight for the north tower of the school.

We make it to her door almost unimpeded; three other students stopped to ask to Hermione's welfare, I purposely strode around them and quickly escaped. Leaving Ginny, who had been trailing just a few paces behind me the entire time, to satisfy their curiosity. When we reach the doorway, Hermione has enough presence of mind to utter her password and I have to put the toe of my shoe against the wood to push it open. After quickly settling her down on her bed I move away from the two Gryffindors, turning my gaze out of her window, over the frozen grounds where I watch as Malfoy steady makes his way back from Black Lake across the snow covered ground.

I lean heavy against the windowsill, my eyes following his progress, biting against my tongue so I am not tempted to request my wand returned to me. I know I could shout a curse and hit him from this distance but still she would see the action and know a part of me I had hoped to keep hidden from her indefinitely.

Behind me the sound of Ginny's hurried footsteps enter the room and her heavy breaths tell me she has been running to keep up with my long quick stride. I hear the catch on the door click into place and close my eyes against the waves of accusations that are sure to follow.

“Are you alright Hermione?” Is the first thing she asks.

“I think so.” She answers after only a moment’s pause. “Jamie.” She says and I turn my head to show her that I have heard her call. “Are you okay?”

For a moment I have to consider her question. My anger is still bubbling beneath the surface of my skin. I may not wish such immediate retribution for my own suffering but what I caught him doing this afternoon was too much for me to bear. I would have ended his life right there and then had there been no witnesses. I would have slowly squeezed the life out of him and relished every moment, every cry, every plea to stop would have been like music to my ears. “I will be.” I answer, knowing that at least this once I must to calm her fears. My rage will calm or I will exact my vengeance, whichever opportunity presents itself first. So I can rest in the knowledge that at least I have not lied to Hermione on this occasion.

“You sure?” Ginny asks. “'Cause that was a little messed up. I really thought you were going to kill him.” I allow myself a private smile at her assessment. I wouldn't have just ended his life, I would have made each moment pure torture. “Was that a werewolf thing?”

“No.” I answer and immediately regret it. I had not even thought I could have passed off my behaviour this afternoon as a side effect for my disorder.

“Then what the hell was it?” Her tone is low and threatening.

I turn abruptly crossing my arms tightly over my chest and lean back against the windowsill. “Why are you so interested?” I purposely avoid the question. How can I possibly explain the thrill to hold someone’s life in your hands to the two women before me? That this sort of thing is what I had been trained since birth for and the absence of it from my life since I met Hermione on that day by the lake, has left me craving the suffering of another. This afternoon not only presented me with an opportunity to use those skills which have been dormant for so long but also an inexplicable need to protect Hermione from all of Malfoy's advances.

“Because...” Ginny shouts and then stops, her eyes darting from left to right in her eye sockets. “I need to know that Hermione is safe.”

“Ginny.” Hermione says in a low tone, giving her first contribution to the conversation. “She was protecting me.”

Ginny for her part looks us both over once and turns to direct her comment towards my girlfriend, who is currently leaning heavily against the headboard of her bed. “I need to hear it from her.”

Slowly I am gaining more and more respect for the youngest Weasley's loyalty towards her friends. I turn my attention to Hermione after only a moment of contemplation. “I will never turn my wand to you in that manner. That much I can promise you.”

Hermione turns her tired eyes to me. “Sweetheart, I already knew that.” I feel her eyes as they travel along the length of my body and she reaches a hand out to me. Wordlessly I stride to her. Taking her hand in mine and taking a seat on the bed next to her. My arm quickly settles into place along her shoulders and her head rests against my collarbone. I place my lips against her hair for a moment as feel her trembling limbs begin to calm under my touch.

“Alright then.” Ginny says, starting to wring her hands in a nervous gesture. “So what happens now?”

I clench my jaw slightly and play the likely scenes out in my head. I have spent enough time with Draco over the years to be able to predict his actions to certain extent, a talent that has proven useful on more than one occasion. “Draco is unlikely to file a complaint against me until you file one against him.”

Ginny pulls out the chair pushed under Hermione's desk and takes a seat with a confused look on her face. “How do you figure that?”

“It's a tactical use of information. If a complaint is filed against him, in this case his attack on Hermione. He will bring a second act to the table. Something that will overshadow his actions.” I say trying to explain the mechanics of this sort of complicated warfare in its simplest terms.

Ginny is catching on quickly as she adds. “In this case, the curse you put on him.” I nod at her to confirm her conclusion.

“Will that work the other way around?” Hermione asks.

It takes me a moment to answer as I ponder if my condition will have any bearing on any sort of outcome. His actions were not against me so it is doubtful. “Yes. Which is why he is very unlikely to bring it to light before you do.”

Hermione is quick to jump to a cause of action. “Then we have to agree here and now to keep quiet about this whole thing. At least until he says something.”

Pressing my lips against her hair again in thanks for her actions, I feel a compulsion to let her know that I would not think ill of her if she did wish to go to the teachers over this matter. “You don't have to do that for me.”

Her fingers close around the material of my shirt. “We both know Umbridge will expel you for this and I don't have any proof of what his intentions actually were.” She shudders against my side and my arms tighten around her for support. “Let’s not draw attention to this until he does.” After sending a meaningful look in Ginny's direction she continues. “Agreed?”

“If that's what you want.” Ginny says with a small thoughtful nod. She clears her throat, her eyes travelling over the two of us and our current position. “Well... It's getting late. I should leave you two alone.”

I cannot help but smile over the thin vale of tact coating her actions. These people I have found myself with are not ones for lies and deceit. Something, which I had thought, I would find frustrating but instead find myself enjoying not having to find double meaning in every word that is uttered in conversation. She quickly excuses herself and leaves us in comfortable silence.

A yawn from my companion draws my attention to her tired state and without moving from my comfortable, warm position at her side I say. “I should let you sleep.”

“You don't have to.” She says around another yawn.

“Yes I do.” I make a move to extract myself from her embrace and find my progress impeded by her hands grasping at my clothing.

“Will you stay with me?” Her voice is so small and vulnerable in this moment that all of my muscles freeze. “It's just... I don't want to be on my own and you make me feel safe.”

Knowing that she cannot see my face I feel my forehead crease in question. Even after countless hours of passion between the two of us I had not stayed in her rooms nor she in mine to sleep off the exertion. Insecurity tumbles up from my belly and into my throat at her request. I have never had opportunity or inclination to sleep with another for as long as I can remember and now I find myself terrified of doing something wrong with such a simple action. “Are you sure?” She nods against my chest and draws me closer to her. Setting aside my fears and misgivings I set myself a course of action. “Alright then. I need to go and get something to sleep in though.”

For a moment she is still, then she extracts herself from my embrace and shows me a sleepy smile. “Fine. Please don't be long.” Wordlessly I nod at her and clamber up from the bed. I have the door half way open before she speaks again. “And Jamie. Don't go looking for Malfoy.” Why must she always be so perceptive?
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By The Light