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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As the Dark Lord Voldemort inspected his newfound body in the mirror of the bathroom belonging to the muggles which he and his Servant had killed as they slept, he found himself with a new appreciation for Wormtail.
The Rodent's long-term stint as a pet in the clan of the red haired Blood-Traitors had proved invaluable, providing the necessary intelligence for the task of locating and procuring a suitable sacrificial victim for the Dark Ritual. And Wormtail had not flinched when it had come time for him to kill the boy without the use of a wand. Nor had he blanched at cutting out the boy’s heart and feeding it to the Dark Lord.
Wormtail had uttered the incantation and performed the ritual to perfection, releasing the Dark Magic which had restored the Homonculus to his former self. Time and again, Wormtail had shown more of an aptitude for Blood Magic than Voldemort had ever expected of the Rodent. He seemed to relish killing, and the Dark Lord began to think that he had been mistaken to doubt Wormtail’s loyalty and competence.
Who was it who had come searching for his Master in the Albanian wilderness when the others had forsaken their Lord? Who was it whose courage had inspired him to kidnap and sacrifice a Ministry Lackey in a rather spectacular Blood Ritual which had created a rudimentary Homonculus for Voldemort to inhabit?
Wormtail! That was who!
The Dark Lord had also plied from his Servant under one of his numerous torture sessions the remarkable story of how Wormtail had come to be missing a finger.
The Rat had killed 12 muggles and sacrificed a piece of himself to frame the Blood Traitor Sirius Black. Wormtail had bravely gone against those he had once called friends and handed the Potters to the Dark Lord on a Silver Platter to be killed. No doubt the fools he had betrayed believed the Rat to be a Coward. But had not his acts proved otherwise?
To kill without remorse took far more courage than most people realised. And the Rat had proved himself to be quite adept at it.
If the Rat could be said to have a Fear, it was only of Death. And who did not fear death? Certainly the Dark Lord had spent his own resources on conquering Death. Wormtail could not truly be said to fear pain. For did not the Rodent offer himself willingly to the Dark Lord for punishment?
Thanks to Wormtail, Voldemort was restored, not merely to his previous form, but to a superior form--purified of the imperfections of his father’s blood. Now, the Dark Lord was who he had been truly destined to be. Wormtail would be rewarded properly with the rank befitting someone of his dedication to the Dark Lord.
It was time to summon his minions, and to witness who was courageous enough to return to his side as Wormtail had. Those who had chosen the Dark Witch; he would deal with them soon enough.
Severus--the Dark Lord had hoped that Severus would take his place as his Second. But apparently he had turned away after the Potters’ murder. Now that the Dark Lord understood the true Courage of the Rat, he was more certain than ever that Severus was a Coward.
Severus, who had appeared willing to die for Voldemort.
Severus, who had begged the Dark Lord to spare the very same muggleborn witch who Wormtail had been so eager to destroy.
For what? Love? Pathetic! Power was the only force worth possessing. Severus could have taken any woman for his own under the Dark Lord’s rule. No! The truth was that Severus was not afraid to die only because he was afraid of living. He was afraid of pain. And above all he was afraid to kill.

~o0o~

“Are you alright Harry?” Hermione inquired after their meeting with Snape, her furry ears twitching anxiously at the pained expression on Harry's face.
“I... I dunno Hermione,” Harry replied truthfully. “I’m not really sure. Today’s been really... kind of scary. Voldemort’s back and he murdered a little boy. You helped Dumbledore kill another Horcrux...”
“And... and then Snape--he finally told me the truth about how he felt about my mum... and my dad, and also how...” tears sprang to Harry’s eyes “...how he told Voldemort about the prophecy...”
“My mum and dad... they might still be alive if...if...” Harry heaved a sob, “Why did Snape tell me the truth Hermione? He didn’t have to... I was getting used to him being nice to me. He could have just let me go on like that...”
“Don’t get me wrong--I understand that Snape changed sides so that Dumbledore could save my mum when he found out Voldemort was going to kill her. I know Pettigrew is the one who truly sold my mum and my dad out.... I’ve known that for a long while, since last year...”
“I know I forgave Snape... And I would again--knowing everything I know now... and after everything he’s done to help me since you turned half-cat... Especially because Snape was brave enough to finally tell me the truth himself.”
“But it still hurts Hermione... I almost wish he hadn’t told me!”
Harry’s dam burst and the tears flowed in earnest as he sobbed. Hermione cuddled her husband and curled her furry tail around him. She didn’t say anything. She just held him in her arms and let him cry.
Harry was always so brave. Even when he shed tears, he never really permitted himself to have a proper cry. He had even held himself back when his Uncle Vernon had been exposed in the muggle press for beating Harry and sharing pictures of Harry's injured body with his twisted friends. Harry had let the tears out eventually over that--but they'd had to be pulled out like teeth.
And really, Hermione understood that those tears had been more for her pain than for himself--tainted with humiliation and anger over how they had both been treated by people who should have loved them.
For the first time in his life, Harry was just sobbing in grief, and allowing himself the luxury to do so. Hermione knew she had to help him let it all out. This wasn’t a time for comforting words or calming draughts. Harry just needed to cry and release the pain he had held within for so long.

~o0o~

Harry slowly blinked himself awake. He felt different somehow--lighter, freer, as if he could dance above the clouds without even a broom to hold him up. His brain and his heart felt cleansed, as if by a fresh Spring rain.
Harry also felt a bit puzzled because he didn’t remember coming to bed. The other thing which became apparent as he emerged from unconsciousness was the sensation of many arms and tails wrapped around him, and the soft sweet breath of sleeping girls against his skin. Harry sighed in contentment.
He didn’t remember Parvati and Luna and Daphne and Fleur coming to bed with him and Hermione. But there they were, all curled up in a heap around him, embracing him--his wife--his friends--his family.
As the joy of love engulfed Harry, his thoughts again turned to Snape, and how much he had done to help Harry, and Hermione, and Daphne.
Harry thought back over the past year. He could see how far Snape had come to treating everyone more kindly--even Neville, who Snape had stopped abusing not long after he had begun tutoring Harry and Hermione.
Professor Snape had still been strict in classes, but it had become obvious--especially during Third Year--that he no longer gave preferential treatment to Slytherins. Nor had Snape continued to dock points for made-up reasons from Gryffindors.
Harry had forgiven Snape, but he hoped that someday Snape could forgive himself and find someone who he could come to really love properly.

~o0o~

Albus felt freer that morning than he had in many, many decades. There was a slight lilt in his step as he climbed the stairs to his office for a quiet pre-breakfast cup of tea. He squeezed a bit of lemon into his steaming cup of Lady Grey and stirred in a single spoon of honey. He sighed with some contentment after taking a sip.
Soon, Albus was swirling dregs in his cup and chuckling as he imagined what Sybil Trelawny would see in his tea-leaves. Albus set his cup gently in the saucer and opened his desk drawer to touch the picture of his sister Arianna. Picking up the cool gold ring inset with the cracked Resurrection Stone, he turned it over and over again in the palm of his hand.
He had no need of it anymore.
Last night, Arianna had forgiven Albus, and assured him that it was Gellert’s wand which had killed her when she had taken a death curse aimed at her brother. Now, Albus’s biggest regret was that he had let Gellert live.
Be that as it may, it was time to give the Peverell ring to Harry Potter.

~o0o~

Green flames flickered in the the Hearth and Severus stepped out into his private chambers. Last night had been painful beyond reckoning. Telling Harry the truth had no doubt hurt Harry more than it hurt himself, but Severus had known that it had to be done.
Harry deserved to know how brave and kind and generous his mother had been--and how loyal his father had been. And Harry deserved to know what a coward Severus had been.
Severus hadn’t deserved Harry’s forgiveness. And he thought that was perhaps why he had fled to Black Manor and broken in Narcissa’s arms after his conversation with Harry and Mrs Potter had concluded.
Narcissa had silently held Severus and let him weep. He didn’t recall when he had fallen into slumber, but when he had woken, she was still nearby at the other end of her sofa, fast asleep with a gentle smile on her lips.
When he departed Black Manor and returned to his chambers at Hogwarts, Severus felt more hopeful than he had ever felt in his life
He hoped that the love Harry shared with his wife and new family would help him get through the pain of the Truth. Severus had lived with pain, humiliation, and darkness, all of his life. He didn’t want Harry to suffer like that any more than he already had. Harry deserved so much more than that.

~o0o~

Minister Dolores Umbridge stirred several spoonfuls of sugar into her tea and added a dollop of cream. Her eyes narrowed as she flicked through the reports presented to her this morning regarding the investigation of yesterday’s murder in Little Hangleton.
This had been the first such Blood Ritual to have been committed since the last wizard war, and she was certain that Voldemort had finally made his move. He was no doubt restored to full power. The Minister’s stomach tightened in trepidation. Voldemort was certain to attack Azkaban, and release those he found there as soon as he could muster some sort of force.
The vast majority of Voldemort’s followers outside of Azkaban were the Minister's now. But there were several who had still held out hope for his return, and they would no doubt rejoin Voldemort. Minister Umbridge couldn’t take the risk. Should Azkaban fall, she could lose forever the one she needed most.
Dolores had reached her decision. She would have to do it quietly without the knowledge of Madam Bones, and release them on her personal authority. Unfortunately for Lucius and Draco, their ancestral home was no longer available to them as Madam Black had no doubt recoded the wards of the estate which now legally belonged to her.
No matter, Dolores’s home should suffice.
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Hermione's Furry Little Problem