Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Hermione's Furry Little Problem	By : Gandalfs-Beard Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 242818 -:- Recommendations : 5 -:- Currently Reading : 20
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or its associated properties. They belong to JK Rowling. I make no money from the production of this work.

Chapter List
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Despite the continued lack of success over the next few days of searching, Harriet was just grateful that the Coven had come across no more Inferi, and that the rain had stopped. Though without the cloud-cover, it seemed even colder as Halloween drew nearer. Everyone was grateful for the warmth of Hermione’s blue flames after the tent had been set up as dusk fell.
“Well, that’s another half a dozen squares done today,” Harriet sighed. “I suppose that’s something.”
“Yeah, we’re definitely narrowing things down, Harriet,” said Dora. “We should be stumbling across it any day now...”
“Sssh...! There’s someone out there,” said Hermione, her invisible furry ears twitching. “I can hear voices...”
Harriet and Dora quieted immediately; Daphne snapped the laptop shut as Fleur and Jennifer turned to look at Hermione. Luna and Parvati flicked their own invisible furry cat ears.
“I hear them too,” whispered Parvati, and Luna nodded.
“How close to our perimeter d’you think they are?” hissed Harriet.
‘Fairly close... maybe thirty five to forty metres!” Hermione replied.
“We should check ‘em out,” said Dora quietly. Harriet and Hermione quickly agreed. Dora cast the transfiguration disguise spells on Hermione--just in case.
“Right then,” said Harriet as the Coven exited the tent into the darkening woods, “Hermione and I will move in closer once we get past our wards--see who we’re dealing with. The rest of you hang back and stay out of sight in a surrounding pattern. If Hermione and I run into trouble, then move in!”
Hermione and Harriet crept stealthily through the trees and the bushes towards the voices which had caught the ears of the cat-witches, as the rest of the Coven fanned out. Harriet could hear the voices as she and Hermione drew nearer, and the crackling of flames as well.
“Er... nice to meet you...” said a nervous voice which seemed very young and very familiar. The voices which responded sounded like they belonged to much older men.
“Dirk... you can call me Dirk...”
“And I’m Jason. Mind if we share your fire mate?”
“I suppose...” answered the anxious voice.
“It’s alright mate...” the voice which belonged to Dirk said soothingly. “Me and Jason--we’re on the run too--been out here for days...”
“How’d’you know I was on the run?” the youthful voice asked suspiciously.
“A youngster like you--out ‘ere all alone...” responded the voice belonging to Jason. “It’s alright though... we’re like you...”
“Really?” muttered the suspicious young voice, “How’s that then?”
“Muggleborn...” replied Dirk. “You are a wizard... right?”
“Er... maybe... I suppose,” the youthful voice replied. “But how do I know you’re not...”
“Snatchers?” Jason laughed mirthlessly. “If we were, you’d be in Ministry hands already and we’d be collectin’ the loot. So why’re you out here all alone then?”
“Didn’t want the Ministry getting their hands on my mum. I’m not really sure if they’d do anything to her--but I didn’t want to take the chance of going back home after I left Hogwarts,” said the young voice, sounding relieved. “I dunno if I’m muggleborn or halfblood really. My dad left us when I was young. He could’ve been a wizard I suppose. The name’s Dean by the way...”
Harriet and Hermione peered at each other, eyes widening when they realised it was Dean Thomas. Hermione sniffed the air a few times to be certain, then nodded at Harriet. Uncertain whether or not to reveal themselves, Harriet decided to remain hidden for the moment and listen a bit longer.
“Blimey... so you’re one of the lot that escaped from Hogwarts then!” said Dirk.
“Smart of you not to hook up with that Potter thug and Dumbledore’s rebellion...” Jason asserted.
“You got that right!” agreed Dirk. “Bloody murdering bastards--if it weren’t for those two, us muggleborn wouldn’t have to register with the Ministry...”
“Bollox!” growled Dean. “There was never any rebellion or murders. The Malfoys were scum... they brought it on themselves. It’s all a lie...”
“That’s not what the Daily Prophet or the Wiz-Vision says...” Dirk’s voice grew frosty and brittle.
“You should read the Quibbler then!” said Dean sharply.
“What?” snorted Jason. “That Conspiracy Theory rag which used to go on about Snorkacks and Nargles? I’ve seen stuff on the telly about Ancient Aliens and the Illuminati which is more believable than that tripe...”
“The Minister... she and her supporters are Pureblood fanatics--just like Voldemort was,” Dean responded coldly. “If you two believe the rubbish in the Prophet, then why are you both running?”
“Already said, mate...!” snapped Dirk. “We know there’s trouble, but we reckon Dumbledore and Potter are to blame for causin’ it...”
“I’m not your mate!” Dean’s voice hardened. “And I don’t think I want to share my fire with you two anymore...”
“Well, that’s too bad for you kid. We like it here...” said Jason dangerously. “There’s two of us and only one of you, and you can’t be more than thirteen or fourteen. The way I figure it, that makes the fire ours then...”
Harriet and Hermione crept closer as their alarm on Dean’s behalf skyrocketed, both of them with their hearts pounding, wands at the ready as they crouched low.
“Piss off!” snarled Dean. There was a rustling sound, and Harriet knew that everyone around the campfire had their own wands out now.
“Don’t be stupid boy!” muttered Jason.
“You sure you want to do this kid?” warned Dirk.
Dean swallowed in trepidation, breath quickening as he peered at the two much older and much larger muggleborn wizards, kicking himself for allowing his anger at their prattling to get the better of him. He might have been able to take on one of the wizards, but Dean wasn’t sure that he was fast enough to take on the both of them.
Dean’s eyes widened in shock when red arcs of magic jetted from the darkness beyond the foliage, and the two threatening wizards collapsed in a heap on the forest floor, both unconscious.
“What the...?” gasped Dean. “Th...thanks for that, but wh...who are you?” he stammered breathlessly when two very attractive teenage witches entered the clearing, their wands still trained on the fallen wizards.
Despite his anxiety, Dean couldn’t help noticing that one of the girls had gorgeous auburn hair. He felt a pang, hoping that Susan was doing alright at Hogwarts.
“Don’t you recognise me then Dean?” chortled the pretty girl with green eyes and windswept black hair spilling around her shoulders.
Dean’s eyes nearly fell out of his head as the hair shortened into a shaggy moptop and the face became more angular. Dean felt his own face blazing with embarrassment when he realised who he had been ogling.
“H...Harry?” Dean groaned questioningly. “Is that really you?”
“Call me Harriet for now!” Harry winked, turned his features back into a girl’s and grinned, nodding.
“We should talk back at the tent behind the protection and concealment charms. Dean probably still has the Trace on him,” said the auburn haired girl quietly to Harriet. “But these two can stay here, seeing as they like your fire so much!” she concluded, glaring icily at the fallen wizards.
“Hermione?” said Dean, recognising her voice.
“Yeah, it’s Hermione, and she’s right...” murmured Harriet. “Let’s go back to our tent before these two arseholes come to, or Ministry officials show up.”

~o0o~

Harriet changed back into Harry when they returned to the tent to make Dean more comfortable, and Hermione reverted to her normal bushy-haired self. Dean tried his best not to appear hot and bothered when the witches--the rest of the Unaffiliated--all cheerfully gave him warm hugs after he set his broom and rucksack down. Keeping Susan at the forefront of his mind helped a bit, but Dean sobered rapidly when the discussion turned to what had brought everyone out to the wilderness to begin with.
“I’m glad you’re safe Dean,” said Parvati
“Thanks for sticking up for the Quibbler Dean,” beamed Luna.
“Of course I would! I can’t believe any muggleborn would pay any mind to anything else! Of all the rotten luck...” Dean griped. “In the middle of nowhere I had to run into two of the thickest berks...”
“You should stick with us for tonight at least,” said Dora, covering very well her mild disappointment that the Coven would have to restrain themselves from being too intimate with each other while Dean was with them.
“...It’ll be safer for you behind the concealment and protection charms we’ve got set up!” Dora continued, “Whoever’s monitoring the Trace back at the Ministry, if they send anyone to check it out tonight, they’ll only find those two idiots when they show up.”
“So, you lot are hiding out here from the Ministry then?” asked Dean. “And what’s up with these muggleborn relocation camps I’ve heard about...? D’you know anything about them?”
“From the information we gathered during the raid on the Ministry, it’s clear they’re more like concentration camps,” Hermione muttered grimly. “As awful as those two out there were, I hated leaving them behind... But it's obvious that we can't trust them.”
“Wait... you lot broke into the Ministry?” Dean gasped. Then Hermione’s implication hit him like a punch in the stomach. “You mean...?” Dean trailed off and gulped, glancing at all of the somber faces of the Unaffiliated.
“If we’re right--these places--they’re more than just relocation camps... more than prisons!” said Harry darkly, his jaw tightening. “They’re much worse...”
Harry blinked, a muscle on his temple twitching. Dean’s blood ran with ice; he shivered--he’d had a very good idea how bad things were with the current administration in the Ministry, but he had struggled to keep his head and not fall into paranoia.
“So Dean... how are you with fighting spells?” asked Harry after a moment passed.
“I... I trained with Fred and George and the Quidditch team a bit before... before we all had to leave Hogwarts,” said Dean hoarsely. “I can do a decent stunner and a basic shield spell--that’s how I got away from some Snatchers last week. I... I stunned one--managed to escape on my broom before anyone else found me. Wh...why?”
“Good... That’s good enough for now,” said Harry, nodding. “We’re not on the run Dean... There may not have been a rebellion against the Ministry before--but there damn well is now!”
“...We’re going to find the internment centre they’ve got here in Wales--we’re going to document what they’re doing there, rescue any prisoners we can... and raze the place to the ground!”
“...I just wanted to know that you can handle yourself when things get hot. I’d let you stay and search and fight with us, but the problem is that you’re underage--you still have a Trace on you. The rest of us are all either emancipated or of age... I’ll call my godfather and Professor Lupin in the morning to take you someplace warded and safe before we all leave tomorrow... alright?”
Dean swallowed again, blinking back tears. He could see the fiery determination in Harry’s eyes--somehow Harry looked far older than his years. Dean found himself wishing that he could help Harry fight the Ministry. Taking a deep breath, Dean smiled and nodded.
“Yeah... sounds good! Thanks Harry!”
“Excellent!” said Harry, relaxing and grinning. “You hungry? We were just about to get some supper when we heard you and those other blokes nearby...”
“Famished!” Dean grinned. “I haven’t eaten properly in days... I stole some food from a muggle shop in a village last week and felt guilty as hell about it... Most of it’s gone now.”
Dean ravenously wolfed down the plentiful meal which Dobby had brought everyone, as Harry and the rest of the Unaffiliated began to fill him in on what they had been up to since Hogwarts, and told him a bit about Dumbledore’s plan to retake the school once they had exposed what the Ministry was really up to in their secret facilities.
Dean was thrilled and astonished by the story of the raid on the Ministry to rescue Arthur Weasley. Though Dean supposed he really shouldn’t be too surprised, given the rumours which had been flying around Hogwarts about Harry and his closest friends defeating most of Voldemort’s Monster Army over the summer holidays.
No wonder Dean hadn’t seen much of Harry and Hermione except during meals at the beginning of the school-term--they’d been too busy studying and training, preparing for the moment they knew was coming--really learning how to fight and make the best use of their skills. It was almost scary how grown-up the Unaffiliated seemed, even Luna who was younger than Dean.
Dean was horrified to hear about the village of the Dead, extremely glad that he hadn’t run into any Inferi himself. Dean’s own story of being on the run after sending his mother a message to go and stay with his aunt seemed to himself like a walk-in-the-park in comparison; his day-to-day attempts to stay out of sight while avoiding the use of magic except to ride his broom under cover of night, his gnawing hunger, and his run-in with the Snatchers, all barely worth a mention.
“Are you joking? Surviving this long while barely using any magic...?” gasped Dora.
“And escaping even when you did? That’s bloody brilliant Dean!” exclaimed Harry.
“The Trace... eet is a shame that it is still upon you,” said Fleur. “We would do very well to have you fighting alongside us.”
As Dean settled on the mattress under the sleeping bag provided by the Unaffiliated, his trusty broom beside him, he felt full, safe, and warm for the first time in weeks. He glanced over at Harry and the Unaffiliated snuggling under their covers together and smirked, feeling slightly envious when it occurred to him that they might all be much closer than he had previously suspected--as well as proud to have been considered worthy of fighting with them.
But Dean’s mild envy vanished as he drifted off to sleep, imagining his titian-haired Susan back in his arms again when Dumbledore and Harry retook Hogwarts.

AN: Response to review:
@Starr: Sorry about the scary stuff. This is the darkest part of the story (that's why I called it The Masters of Death ;-) ). But don't worry; things will turn around eventually, and I'll get back to some more fluff at the earliest opportunity.
As to Bellatrix: it's hard to say. I have a couple different scenarios worked out, and it all depends what happens when the Coven finally locates the concentration camp in Wales.
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Hermione's Furry Little Problem