Post by Zoe on Jun 28, 2011 20:25:20 GMT -8
Title: Coward
Rating: R
Warnings: Possible suggested rape, suicide.
Pairings: Voldemort/Hermione
Summary: Hermione notices the changes in her best friend, and she is drawn to those cold eyes.
A/N: This has been rattling around in my head for ages, let me know what you think!
----
It had happened slowly, and at first the changes had not been significant. Nobody else had noticed the signs, but then she always had been more observant then most of her peers. It helped that she had all the puzzle pieces to put together, whereas most did not. The first thing she had noticed was his eyes. There were times now when the seemed darker, colder, and disconnected. Soon after she noticed his conversations seemed forced, more robotic. He started to speak as if he was above them, his best friends. He would phrase things in a different way, as if he was Lucius Malfoy speaking to a house elf.
It hadn’t taken her long to make the connection, after all Hermione Granger wasn’t known as the brightest witch in her year for nothing. She had suspected for months, but the clincher had been when he had not fought them at all when they told him that they would be going with them on his hunt for the horcruxes. After all, the Harry Potter she knew was noble to a fault and would have at least tried to talk them out of it.
His eyes had been cold and distant at the time, as they had been more and more lately. So she knew that Harry was a horcrux, and that the piece of Voldemort’s soul within him was growing stronger. Voldemort was taking over for longer periods of time, and she knew that if she did not do something soon that Harry would lose the battle.
That was where things got tricky. She loved Harry as a brother, but she also found herself strangely attracted to the power and confidence that he displayed when Voldemort was controlling him. It grew into an obsession, a sick obsession. She found herself charting his lapses, documenting the symptoms, finding patterns in the times that it happened, and most of all watching those cold eyes. This went on for months after she found out, in secret. She dared not tell a soul, although she knew she should. At the very least she knew that she should try and save Harry herself, but could never bring herself to try.
So she kept this secret, knowing that each day they lost a little more of Harry and gained a little more of Voldemort. She hated herself for it; she could hardly recognize the person she was becoming. She knew that it wasn’t too late to save Harry, that if she could show him that he was loved, that he had family, and that someone loved him enough to notice his internal struggle that he would be able to find the strength to push Voldemort out for good. After all the power Harry had was the ability to love and be loved.
But she never could bring herself to try. A simple word of encouragement and love would do the trick, and yet she couldn’t bring herself to utter the words. Instead she found herself doing the unthinkable. She started making little comments whenever she noticed those cold eyes starting to melt a little. Oh Harry, you must forgive Ron for leaving us. After all its not his fault he doesn’t like you anymore. The first time she did this she cried herself to sleep, horrified at what she had done to the boy that had been her first real friend and source of acceptance.
However, that did not stop her from doing it again. You know Harry; if you hadn’t agreed to that absurd polyjuice rescue then Hedwig and Professor Moody would still be alive. Maybe then we would actually be making some headway with our mission. Eventually all the warmth left Harry’s eyes completely, although she knew he was still in there somewhere.
She knew at that point she was travelling with Voldemort himself, in some form. She wasn’t sure of the science behind it, after all how could one person have two bodies and souls running around? Of course this Voldemort did not know that she knew he had taken over Harry’s body, and stuck to the pretence of looking for horcruxes. She suspected that this was more because the two souls shared a sort of connection, and that they could not be too close to each other.
The weeks dragged on and Hermione was drawn further into the depths of those cold eyes. She wanted to get as close to that steely power as she could, so at night she would go to his bed. She stole her best friend’s innocence when he had not been in control of his own body. She had acted like it was a regular thing, so that the piece of Voldemort’s soul that was controlling Harry would allow it. Sometimes she wondered if Harry was aware of what was happening, if he hated her as much as she hated herself.
Eventually Ron came back to them, and Hermione had been both furious and relieved. She knew that with Ron back Harry would start to fight again, and that eventually he would overpower the horcrux within him. She wanted this more than anything, to have her best friend back, to finish finding to horcruxes, and have the world go back to normal. But she was like an addict, and although she wanted those things she could not stop herself from seeking out the power that always lurked underneath the surface, and those emotionless eyes.
Finally the time came when they had destroyed all the horcruxes, Harry had died –effectively destroying the horcrux within him- and come back to kill Voldemort. The war was finally over, and the source of her obsession was gone. But as she looked into Harry’s eyes after it was all over her worst fears were confirmed. He remembered everything, and his once warm loving eyes now gazed upon her with betrayal, hurt, and more questions then she would know how to answer.
She acted normal around him, as if nothing had ever happened, and slowly the betrayal was replaced with concern. He thought she did not remember, he thought that she hadn’t been in control of her own actions. She knew she should do something, explain and beg for forgiveness, but she could never bring herself to try. Coward, the word repeated over and over in her head.
Life moved on, she married Ron and had two children. But her disgust in herself for what she had done grew with every passing year. Every time she looked upon her children she thought of how she would feel if someone did to them what she did to Harry. She thought about what she would think of her children if they felt towards Voldemort the way she had. Eventually it became too much for her to handle, and she took her own life.
She left behind one note, addressed to Harry and it simply read I’m sorry.
Rating: R
Warnings: Possible suggested rape, suicide.
Pairings: Voldemort/Hermione
Summary: Hermione notices the changes in her best friend, and she is drawn to those cold eyes.
A/N: This has been rattling around in my head for ages, let me know what you think!
----
It had happened slowly, and at first the changes had not been significant. Nobody else had noticed the signs, but then she always had been more observant then most of her peers. It helped that she had all the puzzle pieces to put together, whereas most did not. The first thing she had noticed was his eyes. There were times now when the seemed darker, colder, and disconnected. Soon after she noticed his conversations seemed forced, more robotic. He started to speak as if he was above them, his best friends. He would phrase things in a different way, as if he was Lucius Malfoy speaking to a house elf.
It hadn’t taken her long to make the connection, after all Hermione Granger wasn’t known as the brightest witch in her year for nothing. She had suspected for months, but the clincher had been when he had not fought them at all when they told him that they would be going with them on his hunt for the horcruxes. After all, the Harry Potter she knew was noble to a fault and would have at least tried to talk them out of it.
His eyes had been cold and distant at the time, as they had been more and more lately. So she knew that Harry was a horcrux, and that the piece of Voldemort’s soul within him was growing stronger. Voldemort was taking over for longer periods of time, and she knew that if she did not do something soon that Harry would lose the battle.
That was where things got tricky. She loved Harry as a brother, but she also found herself strangely attracted to the power and confidence that he displayed when Voldemort was controlling him. It grew into an obsession, a sick obsession. She found herself charting his lapses, documenting the symptoms, finding patterns in the times that it happened, and most of all watching those cold eyes. This went on for months after she found out, in secret. She dared not tell a soul, although she knew she should. At the very least she knew that she should try and save Harry herself, but could never bring herself to try.
So she kept this secret, knowing that each day they lost a little more of Harry and gained a little more of Voldemort. She hated herself for it; she could hardly recognize the person she was becoming. She knew that it wasn’t too late to save Harry, that if she could show him that he was loved, that he had family, and that someone loved him enough to notice his internal struggle that he would be able to find the strength to push Voldemort out for good. After all the power Harry had was the ability to love and be loved.
But she never could bring herself to try. A simple word of encouragement and love would do the trick, and yet she couldn’t bring herself to utter the words. Instead she found herself doing the unthinkable. She started making little comments whenever she noticed those cold eyes starting to melt a little. Oh Harry, you must forgive Ron for leaving us. After all its not his fault he doesn’t like you anymore. The first time she did this she cried herself to sleep, horrified at what she had done to the boy that had been her first real friend and source of acceptance.
However, that did not stop her from doing it again. You know Harry; if you hadn’t agreed to that absurd polyjuice rescue then Hedwig and Professor Moody would still be alive. Maybe then we would actually be making some headway with our mission. Eventually all the warmth left Harry’s eyes completely, although she knew he was still in there somewhere.
She knew at that point she was travelling with Voldemort himself, in some form. She wasn’t sure of the science behind it, after all how could one person have two bodies and souls running around? Of course this Voldemort did not know that she knew he had taken over Harry’s body, and stuck to the pretence of looking for horcruxes. She suspected that this was more because the two souls shared a sort of connection, and that they could not be too close to each other.
The weeks dragged on and Hermione was drawn further into the depths of those cold eyes. She wanted to get as close to that steely power as she could, so at night she would go to his bed. She stole her best friend’s innocence when he had not been in control of his own body. She had acted like it was a regular thing, so that the piece of Voldemort’s soul that was controlling Harry would allow it. Sometimes she wondered if Harry was aware of what was happening, if he hated her as much as she hated herself.
Eventually Ron came back to them, and Hermione had been both furious and relieved. She knew that with Ron back Harry would start to fight again, and that eventually he would overpower the horcrux within him. She wanted this more than anything, to have her best friend back, to finish finding to horcruxes, and have the world go back to normal. But she was like an addict, and although she wanted those things she could not stop herself from seeking out the power that always lurked underneath the surface, and those emotionless eyes.
Finally the time came when they had destroyed all the horcruxes, Harry had died –effectively destroying the horcrux within him- and come back to kill Voldemort. The war was finally over, and the source of her obsession was gone. But as she looked into Harry’s eyes after it was all over her worst fears were confirmed. He remembered everything, and his once warm loving eyes now gazed upon her with betrayal, hurt, and more questions then she would know how to answer.
She acted normal around him, as if nothing had ever happened, and slowly the betrayal was replaced with concern. He thought she did not remember, he thought that she hadn’t been in control of her own actions. She knew she should do something, explain and beg for forgiveness, but she could never bring herself to try. Coward, the word repeated over and over in her head.
Life moved on, she married Ron and had two children. But her disgust in herself for what she had done grew with every passing year. Every time she looked upon her children she thought of how she would feel if someone did to them what she did to Harry. She thought about what she would think of her children if they felt towards Voldemort the way she had. Eventually it became too much for her to handle, and she took her own life.
She left behind one note, addressed to Harry and it simply read I’m sorry.