The Dark Arts
Ginny Weasley/Hermione Granger
Ginny Weasley Hermione Granger
Angst Slash
Multiple Eras
Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban Goblet of Fire Order of the Phoenix
Published: 10/18/2005
Updated: 10/18/2005
Words: 1,307
Chapters: 1
Hits: 552



Story Summary:
During the war, Hermione's thirst for vengeance is the only thing that keeps her alive. Harry's POV. Angst, drama and slash warning, G/Hr

Author's Note:
Thanks for the feedback on my last fic, "Image Of You". Still working on the 2nd chapter. But this just came to me one night, I'd love to hear what you think.


Twenty sixth of November, Two Thousand and One.

Twenty years old.

Brought back in a box.

Hermione sits where she usually sits. In the corner of their bed. In a dark room with moonlight sneaking its way through the drapes.

It's been a year but this is how she spends every night.

In the corner of their bed. In their dark room.

She sits holding her knees close to her chest for warmth. There's no one else to hold but herself.

Ron and Harry are worried of course. She barely eats, barely sleeps. During the daylight she tries to find him. They watch her as she uses every resource and every last inch of knowledge she has stored in her brain to find the one who murdered her love. Harry recognises the glint in her eye whenever his name is mentioned. He recognises it in the mirror. Harry wants him dead as much as Hermione does.

Inside, Harry knows the truth. He knows that when he faces Voldemort, he couldn't kill him. He doesn't have it in him anymore. He's angry, yes. He wants revenge for his parents and Sirius and Dumbledore, yes. But he's tired. Exhausted. The Boy Who Lived, silently giving up. He, Hermione and Ron have spent five years finding and destroying parts of Voldemort's soul. The last part remains in him. Yet none of them can find him.

Ginny did.

She knew where he was. She didn't wait for them. Hermione begged her to wait.

Ginny didn't wait, she knew that he wouldn't be in one place for too long. So she took the chance, she went alone. Harry doesn't know why she did it, but he can guess. With Voldemort's murder of Molly and Arthur fresh in her mind, he can't say he was surprised that she charged ahead. A few years before, he would have done the same thing.

The three of them weren't far behind. As they stumbled down the steps, they were just in time to see the flash of green light and hear the crack of his disapparation.

Ron froze, unable to stop tears rolling down his wind beaten cheeks. He couldn't bear to see her. He let his sobs of pain take hold of his entire body.

Harry felt numb. It wasn't real. When he finally came to his senses, he reached out to grab Hermione; to hold her back and shield her from the corpse. He reacted too slowly. She had already hit the ground, running. Her wand was out and she screamed "coward" at the space where he had stood.

She ran over to the body and scooped it up in her arms. She cradled her lifeless lover, spilling her tears over the still warm flesh. Shaking the body, Hermione called her name over and over again, as if trying to wake her up from a bad dream. Hermione crushed the body to hers and let out a shattering scream of anguish.

None of them moved for a long time. Harry picked Ron up from the floor but Ron refused to go near Hermione and his sister. Harry eventually tore Hermione from the body and held her tightly as she stained his sweater with salt tears. After a long while, she looked up at him.

He will never forget the way her eyes looked. Untamed rage was breeding inside Hermione and she looked ready for murder.

Looking at her now, curled in the corner of their bed, Harry knows that the hate and rage has multiplied within her, consuming her whole. She's cold inside. There's nothing left. She's running on rage and her desire to kill alone. Harry fears what will happen after that lust is satisfied. Will she give up on life all together? Will she cease to be?

He knows that she doesn't want to find Voldemort so he will end her life and her pain will stop; It isn't a suicide mission. The famous Gryffindor courage and strength won't let her give up so easily. First she wants blood, then she can rest.

He remembers the way it was before. He remembers the four of them standing side by side in their mission. Even though they knew they could be killed at any moment, they kept each other together. They laughed together, ate together and slept in some of the worst places on earth while they were searching for horcruxes.

More than that, Harry remembers Hermione and Ginny together. How shocked Ron and he had been the first time they had caught them kissing. Both a little embarrassed but both completely in love. When Ginny left a room, Hermione took the opportunity to gush to her friends about how amazing she was. When Ginny entered a room, Hermione was so captivated that she couldn't form a sentence. Ron had taken it better than he had. Ron simply shrugged and got on with it while Harry was more shaken. He and Ginny had been together for a short period of time, true. They had broken up due to circumstances which neither of them could control, but he certainly didn't expect to find her in the arms of his best friend.

Later he had asked Ginny about it, joking that he was easy to get over. Ginny grinned. She put an arm around him and told him that she loved him, but she was never that interested in what was under his robes. She gave him a wink and then joined her girlfriend.

They seemed inextricably linked, they moved in together, they had their parents round for dinner. It was hard for Harry to be around them sometimes, seeing the girl he missed out on with Hermione. He cursed himself for being so noble and for his stupid hero complex.

One night in Romania, they were squatting in a cave to maintain a low profile on the Death Eaters radar. Everyone was asleep but Harry. Ginny and Hermione were curled up beside the fire. He noticed that Ginny had her arm around Hermione's waist and their fingers were intertwined. Both of them looked so peaceful and content just because they were in each others company.

He watched them sleep for a while, smiling to himself. He finally understood.

Harry compares that image to the one in front of him now as he leans against the doorframe. He shakes his head sadly.

"What do you want, Harry?" Hermione asks quietly, still looking at the wall.

He clears his throat. "Good news, I suppose. I think we've found him. We know where he's going to be tomorrow night."

The news wasn't greeted with the enthuasism you would expect. This was a result of too many missed chances and false leads. "How?"

"We got lucky. Found Malfoy trying to steal something from the remains of the Ministry. The Order have got him. Gave him Veritaserum. They just want to make sure by checking with some of their other informants, in case Malfoy can fake it."

"Malfoy," she echoes. Her voice sounds so empty and hollow these days. "He should be telling the truth. He's weak willed, always has been. I doubt he could hold off the potion."

He nods. He doubts she can see him in this darkness, but he does it anyway. He turns to leave.

"Harry, will you stay a bit longer?"

He nods again, knowing what she wants. Slowly she slides down underneath the duvet, facing the wall. Harry kicks off his shoes and slips inside. She takes his arm and puts it round her waist, entwining his fingers with hers.

"I just... I need to sleep tonight," she whispers into the darkness. "If it is going to be tomorrow night... I need to sleep. And I can't sleep alone."

Harry lines his body with hers, feeling her shaking.

"It's OK. I know."