Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Damaged Bridges	By : Gandalfs-Beard Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Harry/Hermione Views: 46870 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 6
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, all rights belong to Rowling and Warner Bros, nor do I make any money from the production of this work.

Chapter List
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Perchance to Dream

Hermione woke up with a start, shrieking and jerking away from the arm around her before realising it was Harry’s. She breathed a deep sigh of relief, realising that they were both still on the Hogwarts Express and that she was safe. Hermione flushed and bit her lip, peering apologetically at Harry, who looked absolutely terrified, much more frightened than she had felt herself.
“Hermione - are you alright? Did... did you have a nightmare?”
“Yes! B...but I’m alright Harry - really!” Seeing Harry’s skeptical and still panic-stricken features, Hermione tried her best to reassure him and explain what she was really feeling, turning even redder as she did so.
“It... it’s not what you think, Harry.” Hermione cast her eyes down, feeling an almost overwhelming sense of shame, and no small amount of confusion.
“I... I almost think it would be better if it was that sort of nightmare...” she muttered, tears trickling down her blazing red cheeks. “In my dream, I was... I was en...enjoying it...” Hermione’s face twisted with revulsion as she trembled and let out several sobs before pulling herself together enough to continue.
“...until... until his face turned into Snape’s. Th...that’s when I got frightened and... and realised he’d used a love potion on me. Then I screamed and woke up...”
“Oh! That’s... really horrible!” Harry said awkwardly. “I’m sorry... er... you’re safe now.”
Hermione bit her lip again; Harry looked so helpless as he struggled to find some comforting words to say, keeping his hands close to his side. The sight was more frightening to Hermione than anything; the fear that Harry would be put off her and leave her all alone crawled like ice through her veins.
In that instant, Hermione hated McLaggen more than the first moment when she’d found out that he had used a love potion on her. She hated him more than she thought she could ever possibly hate anyone that she’d ever hated - more than Snape or Malfoy - more than Voldemort or Umbridge.
“It’s okay Harry. I mean it! It... it’s more... humiliating than anything! Please... don’t be afraid to hold me,” Hermione implored. “Ineed you to hold me!”
“Are... are you sure?”
Hermione nodded. “Absolutely sure! I feel much better when you’re holding me... when I know it’s you, Harry. I think... I think the more you hold me, the more I’ll be able to forget about him!”
Harry let out a huge sigh of relief and Hermione could see the understanding in his eyes. Harry tentatively held open his arms and Hermione snuggled into them once more. Hermione took several deep breaths through her nose to fix Harry’s scent firmly in her mind, and settled in for the rest of the journey, comforted by his warm embrace.
Hermione let out a peaceful little sigh when she felt Harry press his lips to her bushy hair, and gradually, they both drifted off again. The snowy landscape of Scotland and Northern England gave way to slate grey skies and rain-soaked fields as the Hogwarts Express trundled ever southwards, the sleeping pair eventually reaching London without further incident.

~o0o~
Billowing clouds of hot vapour poured across Platform Nine and Three Quarters as the gleaming red steam engine finally pulled into King’s Cross, brakes shrieking. Molly Weasley kept an eagle eye out for her children as students spilled onto the platform. Arthur was working late again, as he often was these days - if not for the Ministry, then on some sort of job for the Order.
Molly’s face lit up when she spotted Ron and Ginny amongst the throng, and she heaved a sigh of relief to see that they had both arrived, safe and sound. She waved to get their attention.
“Over here,” she shouted. Molly threw her arms around her two remaining Hogwarts age children and squeezed them both tightly when they finally managed to break free of the crowd.
“Urgh! Mum... let a man breathe!” Ron gasped. Molly released Ron and Ginny, beaming at them before frowning slightly in puzzlement.
“Where’s Harry?” she asked. “I thought he’d be with you two.”
“With Hermione,” Ron muttered irritably. “He’s staying with her for Christmas instead... Ow! Stop doing that!” Ron snapped at Ginny when she smacked him on the shoulder.
“Then bloody grow up!” Ginny shot back.
“What’s going on here? What’s this all about then?” Molly’s features darkened, and she felt a chill of foreboding run up her spine. “Is something wrong with Harry or Hermione?”
“Ron’s just being a prat!” Ginny gave Ron a glare, before giving her mum a troubled, serious look. “But yes... er... sort of. I’ll tell you in a minute. I just have to know something first! Mum... did you... did you give Dad a love potion to make him love you? Is that why he married you?”
Molly was floored. In a brief moment of stunned silence, she peered into her daughter’s imploring eyes and glanced at her son who was shuffling awkwardly, his own eyes planted firmly on the sooty floor of the platform.
“What?” Molly gasped when her voice returned. “Heavens no! Why would you ask me such a thing? And what on earth does this have to do with Harry staying with Hermione?”
“Cormac McLaggen,” said Ginny “He snuck a love potion into Hermione’s drink at Professor Slughorn’s Christmas Party, and... and had sex... no, I mean... he raped her. McLaggen raped Hermione! And that’s why Harry’s staying with Hermione for Christmas - to keep her company and look after her.”
Ginny didn’t add that she thought Harry and Hermione had probably finally realised that they loved each other too. It didn’t seem relevant in that moment.
Molly turned white, her freckles like splashes of scarlet paint on an otherwise blank canvas.
“McLaggen did what?” Molly shrieked, shaking with fury as the blood rushed back into her cheeks. “Where is that boy? Where is he? I could murder him!”
“Harry already beat him up!” said Ginny, a look of pride flickering across her features. “And I think he’s getting expelled - McLaggen I mean - McLaggen’s getting expelled. But you haven’t really answered my question properly. You told me and Hermione just before third year that you made a love potion when you were a girl...”
Molly gave Ginny a sad, sympathetic smile, suddenly understanding her daughter’s quandary.
“Oh sweetie, I barely knew what I was doing, and I didn’t know it was wrong. I wasn’t even in Hogwarts yet and I was trying to follow a recipe I’d found in my grandmother’s notebook. It wouldn’t have worked even if I had managed to get it to the boy I was interested in. ... I’m sorry if I ever gave you the impression that it was alright to use a love potion on an unsuspecting person...”
“What’s going on?” asked Fred, who had just appeared with George. “We’ve been waiting forever,” he moaned. “Time is galleons.”
“And what were you shouting about Mum?” asked George. “We could hear you all the way across the platform...”
“You two!” snarled Ginny, whose features had caught aflame at the sight of her brothers. Ron gulped and slowly backed away from Ginny, hoping that she didn’t know how to conjure canaries - her bat bogie hexes were scary enough.
“We’re going to your shop this instant!” Ginny continued vehemently, quivering with rage. “And you’re going to destroy every single, last bottle of love potion in stock...”
“And why would we do that?” asked Fred nonchalantly.
“Because you sold some to McLaggen and he used it to rape Hermione?” Ginny hissed venomously.
“Wait! What did you just say?” Molly’s eyes boggled. She hadn’t thought the situation could get any worse “You mean McLaggen got it from Fred and George?”
Molly rounded on her two sons dangerously. “You two have been selling love potions to students? You KNOW they’re banned at Hogwarts, don’t you?” she growled.
“Well, yeah, but...” Fred began, faltering slightly under his mother’s glare.
“It’s mostly just for girls who want to get thick blokes to notice them,” said George, looking horrified at the notion that a guy might use them with nefarious intent on a girl. “We never thought...”
“YOU DIDN’T THINK? ... IS THAT THE BEST YOU CAN COME UP WITH? ... NEVER, IN ALL MY YEARS ... THOUGHT I’D RAISED YOU BETTER THAN THAT...”
“Mum, please...” begged Ron, peering around anxiously at the turning heads in the crowd.
But Molly was having none of it. Her voice dropped a couple of levels, but was still deadly enough to strike terror into the hearts of her sons.
“Love potions are only to be used by consenting adults to spice up a fading love life, or to help couples work through a rough patch!” Molly snarled. “Ginny is absolutely right! We’re heading to your shop right this minute, and you’re going to vanish the bloody lot of it! You two are just lucky that selling love potions to minors is only a fineable offense...”
“But that stuff cost a bloody fortune,” Fred burst out angrily. “You can’t just make us get rid of it!”
George punched Fred’s shoulder and glared at him. Fred was shocked into silence. He couldn’t remember the last time that he and George had disagreed on anything.
“Don’t be stupid!” George snapped at Fred. “The money’s not that important - this isn’t about money, this is about Hermione. She’s practically our sister... and speaking of our sister, what about Ginny? McLaggen could’ve dosed her... or... or Angelina! What if McLaggen had dosed Angelina?”
Fred opened his mouth then shut it again, looking appalled at the idea of McLaggen laying a finger on Ginny or Angelina. “I’d kill ‘im. I’d Avada Kedavra him!” Fred muttered.
“Thought so!” said George coldly. He turned back to his mother, shame written all over his face. “You’re right Mum. I’m sorry! We both are... right Fred?”
Fred nodded vigorously, and George continued.
“We’re idiots! We really weren’t thinking about anything but the money. And...” George swallowed, “and it honestly didn’t seem so bad - the idea of girls using it on guys. I... I guess I reckoned most blokes wouldn’t care too much about getting dosed - getting a bit of free snogging out of the deal...” George trailed off, turning crimson with embarrassment, unable to look Ginny or his mother in the eye at the last bit.
“Well, I’m glad that at least one of you has a conscience that can’t be bought with money and knows that Hermione is family!...” snapped Molly, giving Fred another glare.
“Me too,” said a quiet voice that caught everyone by surprise.
Fred glanced at Hermione’s hurt features and took one look at the cold expression on Harry’s face, and wished he could melt into the ground. He briefly thought of apparating away until he remembered that Platform Nine and Three Quarters had the same anti-apparition wards as Hogwarts...

~o0o~
After his moment of panic when Hermione had woken up screaming, Harry hadn’t been all that surprised when Hermione had explained her nightmare to him - it only made sense given the means by which McLaggen had violated her. Harry could only imagine how ghastly it must have been for Hermione to actually tell him the truth; it had been incredibly brave of her. Harry didn’t think that he could have himself in her shoes.
Harry’s heart had shattered into a million tiny little pieces at the desperation and pain in Hermione’s voice and eyes when she had pleaded with him to keep holding her. But at least now he had a clearer understanding of Hermione’s need to be in close physical contact with him despite her ordeal.
Harry was dead tired, not having slept much more than an hour since the night before last, but returning to sleep after being woken by Hermione’s nightmare was almost impossible. He remained awake long after she drifted back into slumber, cuddling her and kissing and stroking her tawny-brown coils of hair as the carriage of the train gently swayed.
Harry couldn’t help a little smile when it occurred to him that he and Hermione were both notorious for their flyaway hair. It almost seemed like another sign that they belonged together. With that comforting thought, Harry finally drifted off again, his cheek resting atop Hermione’s bushy head.
The screeching wheels and lurching carriage jarred Harry awake what seemed like mere moments later; one look out the window told him that they had arrived in King’s Cross. It took a short while to make their way off the train, through the throng of students who had already disembarked.
Harry’s ears caught a familiar sounding shriek from further down the platform. He couldn’t help letting out a chortle.
“Sounds like Mrs Weasley is already on someone’s case! Who d’you reckon, Hermione? Ron maybe?”
“Don’t be silly Harry.” Hermione rolled her eyes. “I’m sure Ron can’t have managed to annoy her that quick off the mark.”
Harry’s features darkened as he and Hermione drew closer, weaving their way through the crowd. Apparently the Twins had been drawn in by their mother’s shriek as well.
“Hang on a minute, Hermione,” Harry muttered, holding back when they both heard Ginny snarl, “You two!...” at the twins.
Harry and Hermione stood on the platform listening to Ginny, then Mrs Weasley, laying into the Twins. Harry felt a surge of grim satisfaction, but put an arm around Hermione and gave her a comforting squeeze as her face grew redder with mortification at being at the centre of a Weasley family row.
But Harry’s face only grew darker when he noted Fred’s initial dismissiveness, and caught Hermione tearing up and biting her lip. When Mrs Weasley admonished Fred, Harry wholeheartedly agreed, and couldn’t help blurting out, “Me too!”
Every single one of the Weasleys jumped with a start and flushed with embarrassment to see Harry and Hermione both staring at them. Harry eyed Fred looking around wildly for an escape route; George looked mortified.
“Er... How long have you two been standing there?” Ron asked a bit squeakily.
“Long enough,” Harry answered.”You’re okay Ron,” he added quickly. “Thanks Mrs Weasley, Ginny! That was brilliant - you saved me the trouble!”
“I’m really sorry, Hermione!” George interjected earnestly, looking her directly in the eye. “I wouldn’t’ve sold any love potions to students if I’d had any idea McLaggen or any other bloke would use them like that - I swear!”
“Yeah... me neither,” Fred agreed, looking at his feet.
“It... it’s alright!” said Hermione. “I know you both didn’t really mean me or anyone else to get hurt...” Hermione trailed off, struggling not to cry.
“...Just try and be a bit more thoughtful in future,” Harry added, giving Fred one last glare. “Anyway, I expect Hermione’s parents are waiting. Sorry to make this so short... er... Happy Christmas then!”
Hermione mumbled, “Happy Christmas,” as well, not trusting herself to say any more without bursting into tears, which she did anyway as Harry led her away from the thoroughly abashed Weasleys.
Harry found a little alcove on the platform away from the crowds and cuddled Hermione for a few minutes while she sobbed. Finally, Hermione managed to pull herself together.
“Th...thank you Harry,” she sniffled, wiping away her tears with her hanky and giving him a peck on the lips. “I... I think I can manage to meet my parents now.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.” Hermione nodded and smiled wanly, taking a deep breath to steel herself.
“Alright then,” said Harry, not entirely certain that he was ready to meet her parents yet. With an arm around Hermione’s waist, Harry stepped up to the barrier and they both slipped through into the muggle world.
Harry swallowed anxiously when he spotted Hermione’s parents as he emerged with her onto platform number nine. Mr Granger was peering directly at him, eyes narrowing, apparently taking note of Harry’s arm around his daughter’s waist.
All of a sudden, Harry wished he’d thought to dress in something a bit spiffier than a woolly jumper and jeans with threadbare knees. Mr Granger looked immaculate and a bit intimidating in his suit and tie and perfectly combed dark hair. Mrs Granger looked puzzled, but a bit warmer and more inviting. She had a full head of tawny-brown hair much like her daughter’s, but which had clearly been subjected to some attempts at taming.
“Mum, Dad...” Hermione shouted, beaming, and oblivious to her parents’ expressions. She broke free from Harry and flung herself upon them both.
“Oof!” said Mr Granger with a grin, temporarily distracted from Harry. “That’s the hug I’ve been waiting ages for.”
“Hello dear! I’ve missed you too!” Mrs Granger’s mother laughed at her daughter’s exuberant embrace. “But are you alright? You look like you’ve been crying...”
At that, Mr Granger turned his cooling gaze back on Harry.
“Oh... er... It’s nothing - well, er... it’s not important right now, anyway!” said Hermione, her cheeks turning pink. “I’ll tell you when we get home.”
“Will your friend be joining us for dinner?” Mr Granger asked pointedly.
“Daddy, you remember Harry don’t you? Harry Potter?”
“You’re one of the boys who saved Hermione from the troll, aren’t you? And the one who posed for pictures with that buffoon in the bookshop?” Mr Granger’s tone was mildly disparaging. Hermione’s mother gave her husband a sharp look of disapproval.
“Er... y...yes sir! Th...that’s me.” Harry stammered, shaking Mr Granger’s hand, trying not to sound put out at the notion that he had deliberately posed with Gilderoy Lockhart, and the fact that Mr Granger seemed not to recall seeing him in King’s Cross at a distance in previous years.
“It’s lovely to meet you properly finally, Harry!” said Mrs Granger with a smile that looked just like Hermione’s as she shook his hand. She glanced at Hermione and asked, “And what happened with your friend Ron? We said hello to the Weasleys a few minutes ago. They all looked a bit out of sorts...”
“Oh... er... just a bit of a mix up,” Hermione said evasively. “They... er... thought Harry would be staying with them for Christmas.”
“Oh? So where is Harry staying for Christmas then? With that rude looking Uncle of his?” asked Mrs Granger. “Er... sorry Harry!” Mrs Granger quickly added, suddenly thinking better of her bluntness.
“No! Quite alright!” said Harry, grinning. He was starting to like Mrs Granger already. “He’s horrible actually...”
“And I was hoping that Harry could stay with us for Christmas!” said Hermione, fixing her mother with a hard stare.
“Oh!” Mrs Granger glanced at her husband worriedly. “Well... I, er, suppose. We’ve certainly got plenty of room...”
“Yes... plenty of room!” Mr Granger managed a stiff smile which appeared to be hiding gritted teeth. “Well, we’d best be getting on then. It’s getting a bit late... Maybe we should just grab a bite to eat on the way home.”
Mrs Granger smiled and relaxed when it appeared that her husband was going to accept the situation to the best of his ability and behave in a civilised manner as they made their way to the car, which was a very posh looking dark blue Mercedes.
Her smile evaporated moments later when Mr Granger whispered loudly enough for Harry and Hermione to hear, “Well, I suppose it could be worse, Jean. At least the boy looks reasonably intelligent, unlike her gormless ginger friend...”
“Richard!” gasped Mrs Granger. “Don’t be so rude...”
It was only a twenty minute drive from King’s Cross to Hampstead Garden Suburb through the rainy London streets, and the wait at the fish and chip shop only about ten minutes.
Harry was feeling pleasantly full by the time they arrived at the Grangers’ house. He knew that Uncle Vernon - who did very well for himself as the Director of Grunnings, a mid-sized firm which made drills - would be green with envy if he could see how well the Grangers were doing for themselves as dentists. The two story brick home was spacious and overlooked Hampstead Heath Extension, in a London suburb that Harry had never been in before.
Harry was tempted to relax as Hermione led him through the verdant front garden by the hand, but he didn’t want to let his guard down. He had a feeling that things were only just beginning again, and for a fleeting moment he considered bolting.
Hermione’s parents invited Harry and Hermione to the sitting room, where they sat and sipped bottles of fizzy water from Switzerland, chatting amiably enough about the most innocuous of things. Then Hermione cleared her throat, and Harry’s stomach clenched.
He swallowed nervously and let Hermione cling tightly to his hand while she tried to explain what had happened - starting from the day in the greenhouse and the attempt to invite Ron to Slughorn’s party.
Harry tried his best to tune everything out by eyeing the Swiss made cuckoo clock on the wall, and the pictures of Hermione and her parents on their holidays to Spain, France, and Switzerland, which sat on nearly every surface. He even managed to ignore the many dirty looks Mr Granger kept shooting him at intervals.
It wasn’t until Hermione’s vice-like grip on Harry’s hand tightened painfully and voices began to rise that Harry was brought crashing back to Earth like a falling satellite.
“...Please! Try to understand, Daddy....” Hermione was nearly in tears.
“I’m trying Hermione, I really am.” Mr Granger’s voice appeared strained to its breaking point. “But this is all just too much for me to take in. Let me get this straight... You went to a party with a boy you don’t like, to make another boy who you don’t really like, jealous...”
“...Because Ron was a complete arsehole who ditched me to snog Lavender after he had already accepted my invitation to go to the party when I still thought we might have something together, yes!” Hermione interjected forcefully, so that her father wouldn’t lose sight of the key plot-point.
As neither Hermione’s mum or dad seemed inclined to call her on her language at that point; Harry reckoned things were only going from bad to worse.
Mr Granger kept going as if he hadn’t taken in a word that Hermione had just said. “Then the boy that you really didn’t like, slips you a drug which doesn’t knock you out, but only makes you infatuated...”
“Yes! What part don’t you understand?” Hermione sniped, glaring angrily at her father as if he were being deliberately obtuse. Harry rather thought that Hermione’s mother was thinking much the same thing as Hermione, judging by the look on Mrs Granger’s face.
“Well, for starters - going to a party with a boy you don’t like. I thought we taught you better than that...” said Mr Granger, who was struggling to mightily to rein in his temper.
“Richard!” snapped Mrs Granger, “Don’t be so horrible! Hermione’s been through enough trauma in the last twenty four hours as it is....”
“Trauma? Really, Jean? That’s the other bit I don’t bloody understand! If he’d got Hermione too drunk to say no, or slipped her something that knocked her out, then I’d understand a bit better. But how does an infatuation inducing drug diminish her capacity to say no? By her own account, Hermione’s faculties were still relatively intact. She should have realised something was wrong and just said no!”
Harry almost opened his mouth to angrily interject, but Hermione shot him a warning look.
“It’s not that simple, Richard,” Mrs Granger fumed. “You should know that, being a bloody dentist, with the assortment of drugs readily available to us. Hermione was clearly under the influence of a drug rendering her easily manipulated by the object of herfalse affections...”
“Daddy, listen to Mum, please!” Hermione begged, “She understands, why can’t you?”
“Because we don’t have drugs like that in our world, Hermione!” Mr Granger retorted, looking at wits end. “This is just so much for me to wrap my head around! I barely understand all of this irrational, teenage girl nonsense as it is... all this jealousy and intrigue, it’s so unlike you...”
“Richard!” Mrs Granger shouted again. “What is wrong with you? Hermione IS a teenage girl for God’s sake! Don’t you remember what it was like being a teenager? ...”
“I was a teenage boy!” Mr Granger shouted back, “I was clueless about teenage girls then, and apparently I still am! I was just bloody lucky to find someone as understanding as you!...”
That took the wind out of Mrs Granger’s sails for a moment and Mr Granger ploughed on, waving his hands in frustration.
“But whatever!? I’ll just have to accept that I don’t understand teenage girls. What I want to know is how this drug took away Hermione’s free agency while she was wide awake and perfectly aware. We just don’t have anything like that in our world, Jean!”
“Come on, Richard!” Mrs Granger gesticulated wildly in exasperation. “Hermione just explained that she wasn’t ‘perfectly aware’ despite being wide awake. And you know perfectly well that new drugs are popping up every day in our world with a dizzying array of new effects which could easily render anyone vulnerable to manipulation by someone unscrupulous. Take MDMA - Ecstasy - for example...”
“You mean the drug that all those ravers in the silly cartoon outfits take at electronic music festivals?”
“Yes... that drug!” Mrs Granger rolled her eyes at her husband.”It lowers inhibitions and strongly stimulates physical arousal and affectionate behaviour. Anyone under the influence is susceptible to being drawn into sexual intercourse with someone who strikes their fancy, whom they might not under ordinary circumstances.
This Love Potion #9 sounds very similar, but it’s clearly keyed to specific individuals by adding DNA strands from the intended victim, and from the perpetrator, and it clearly has even stronger effects, for all intents and purposes making it practically impossible for the victim to refuse intercourse!”
Hermione’s father looked like he was about to cry and finally threw up his hands in despair.
“Okay... Okay! Alright! You’ve convinced me! This McLaggen bloke raped my little girl! I’d bloody murder the kid if I ever got my hands on him, but I can’t... So what the hell do I do about it? What am I supposed to do, Hermione?” Mr Granger pleaded, peering at Hermione who looked just as heartbroken as he was.
“Nothing Daddy!” Hermione said beseechingly. “I already told you - it’s already been dealt with! Harry gave McLaggen a black eye and some loose teeth and McLaggen was already arrested sometime earlier today. All I need is for you to accept that I love Harry and that I need him to be with me.”
“Fine! Alright then! I wash my hands of it!” Mr Granger seemed to deflate slightly, though still looking highly agitated. “I suppose I can take a bit of comfort in the fact that Harry beat the snot out of this McLaggen creep!”
“Richard!” gasped Mrs Granger, half-smiling. “You’re not supposed to be encouraging violence.” But Mrs Granger couldn’t help shooting Harry an exceedingly grateful look nonetheless. “Anyway, Richard, the kids look a wreck, and Hermione’s been through Hell and back. Why don’t we call it a night and start tomorrow fresh - Harry, I’ll show you to the spare-room...”
“No! Harry’s sleeping in my room with me!” Hermione stated firmly.
Mrs Granger groaned and palmed her face with both hands, waiting for her husband to blow his stack again. Mr Granger was momentarily stunned into silence.
“Er... I am?” said Harry, gulping as his eyes turned into saucers.
“Yes! You promised to cuddle me!”
“Er... Right, of course Hermione!” Harry said quickly.
“GAAAH!!!” Hermione’s father howled. “A boy rapes you, and you’re telling me that expect me to let another boy sleep in your room? Bloody Hell Hermione! I don’t understand you! I just don’t understand!...”
“Dear, please calm down!” Mrs Granger begged. “You’re upsetting Hermione again - after all she’s been through...”
“I won’t calm down! I won’t! I refuse to calm down! I’m not having this in my house! ...”
“Look,” shouted Hermione, “I need Harry to be close to me as much as possible to help me get that bastard’s face out of my skull - that’s the only way I’m going to heal from this! I’ve tried to explain that as best as I can. And... and if you can’t deal with it, then I’m off! Harry’s got a place in London I can stay at...”
“I do?” Harry’s eyebrows shot up under his fringe in bewilderment. Hermione gave him a look.
Harry groaned. Of course. “Oh... er... yeah! I forgot! My Godfather’s place! He... er, died and left it to me. It’s not far - in the Islington District! Hermione will be perfectly safe there, I promise!”
“Well, maybe that’s for the best then,” said Mr Granger angrily.
“Darling, you can’t possibly mean that!” Jean Granger gave her husband a pleading look.
Richard Granger paced back and forth tearing at his already thinning hair and returned his wife’s gaze with an anguished look of his own, his eyes glistening wetly.
“Well what do you want from me?” Mr Granger’s voice broke. “Hermione’s all grown up and there’s nothing I can do to protect her. She’s better off with their lot now...”
“Don’t talk about me like I’m not here! ... like I'm already gone!” Hermione shrieked, tears streaking her glowing cheeks. “Talk to ME! I didn’t come home to be looked after, or because I needed protection - Harry and I are perfectly capable of protecting each other - I came home because I LOVE YOU! Don’t you get it?”
“Okay!” said Mr Granger in a small voice, deflating liking a punctured balloon and looking utterly defeated. “Okay! I’m sorry Hermione! I’m sorry... I just... this is... I’m sorry! I love you too! I love you so much it makes me crazy to know that you’re all grown up and part of a world that I’ll never really be able to understand!”
Mr Granger peered at Harry earnestly. “Harry - just promise me you’ll continue looking after Hermione! Please!”
“Of... of course I will, Mr Granger!” Harry’s own eyes were stinging with tears now. “I promise! Hermione means the world to me!”
“Thank you Harry!... Thank you! That’s the best a father can hope for in the end, really!”
“Alright Richard,” said Hermione’s mother, looking very relieved at the outcome. “I think poor Harry’s had about as much as he can take - he looks positively terrified. I think it’s time we all went to bed... Now who wants some hot cocoa? And there are sedatives in the medicine cabinet if anyone wants some.”
“Cocoa will be fine Mum,” said Hermione gratefully, wiping away her tears with a hanky. “Madam Pomfrey gave me a whole load of calming draughts and sleeping potions to bring home in case I needed them. They’ve got a lot less potential for addiction, and if you and Dad want a vial or two yourselves, you’re welcome to have some.”
“Actually, that... that sounds nice, Hermione.” Mr Granger smiled wanly at her as he rubbed at his own eyes. “I think I would like to try one.”
Soon everyone had steaming cups of cocoa in their hands, and Mr Granger was looking much better after a calming draught.
But Harry was still in such a state that he didn’t realise how true Mrs Granger’s words had been until he found himself in Hermione’s room, looking into a mirror on her armoire. Harry was pale and clammy, and badly shaking.
“Blimey Hermione,” Harry muttered, “I’ve never... I mean... Bloody Hell! I’ve dealt with angry Dursleys, and Weasley family rows. I’ve put up with Snape and Malfoy! ... I’ve faced Dragons, and Basilisks and Dementors, and fought Voldy multiple times... But that was something else...”
“I’m so sorry Harry,” said Hermione earnestly as she passed him two vials of calming draught. “Here, swallow these! ... But now you can see why I can’t tell my parents too much about the wizard world or Voldemort...”
“You weren’t bloody joking!” Harry agreed, downing first one, then the second vial of calming draught.
Harry was too knackered and emotionally drained to explore much of Hermione’s room. But as the draughts began to kick in, he took note of the poster on the wall of Einstein with his tongue sticking out, and the piles of science and history books on Hermione’s bookshelves. And as he collapsed on Hermione’s bed, he spotted the stuffed furry animals - mostly cats - and the fairy and unicorn ornaments - the only real indications that a teenage girl might live in the room.
Harry was passed out by the time Hermione returned from the loo dressed in a Hello Kitty nightie which she would have never dared to take to Hogwarts.
Hermione bit her lip and smiled tearily at Harry; he looked so peaceful as he slept. Having already taken a calming draught herself, Hermione snuggled up next to Harry, curling an arm around his waist. She took a few deep whiffs, hoping that her dreams would be of Harry instead...
AN:
@ Meltyman: Thank you! :-)
There's a bit more to it, which will come up in a following chapter, but basically, Harry was so angry at Ron he didn't want to go up to the dorm. Had Harry followed Ron upstairs, I think Harry would have remembered the Map. In any case, you're right, it would have been too late to prevent Hermione from being raped at that point--though it would have helped him find her and get her to the hospital wing.
No question in my mind that Malfoy would have deserved a sectumsempra in the heat of battle if he'd been attempting to AK Harry--especially after nearly murdering Katie and Ron. And I do think Malfoy had it coming, so I don't feel bad for him in the least.
But in that moment, Harry would have been better off with a stunning spell, and I think it's incredibly stupid to test out an unknown spell with unknown effects on a human being, no matter what the circumstances.
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Damaged Bridges