Unforgivable

Unforgivable

I don't think I could explain it to you. I could try but I doubt you'd understand. It's not easy to explain unless you've done it, you've felt it.

Felt the blood, felt the tears, felt the eyes pouring into you as they beg for mercy. Mercy that's never shown. Not by me anyway.

The feeling is explicable. From when you draw your wand, to saying those words, to watching them hit the ground in a crumpled mess with a dull thunk.

Avada Kedavra

Avada Kedavra

Avada Kedavra

// The three flanking members of the Order that had just arrived fell to their knees, then tumbled like dominos to the dusty floor. Harry looked around him, dumbstruck. He thought about checking them but realised that would be in vain. She never misses. He looked to see where their wands had fallen, hoping he could use them. Unfortunately, she had the same thought and set fire to them.//

Best things come in threes. Like you, Ron and I. You had no idea back then. Not back when I was the intelligent, talented, bossy third of the Trio. Ever the good girl. You all had no idea. Not even Dumbledore. Who would ever suspect? The sensible witch with her head in a book. No harm ever came from reading books.

It's the sensible ones you have to watch out for. Believe me now or never.

It grew into an obsession back in those days. I read. I came across dark terms while researching for the Order. I cross referenced. Cross referenced more. Cross referenced so far I didn't know how I'd got there. It started with the restricted section, then buying books via Owl, then Borgin and Burkes. The more I read, the more I was disgusted and strangely fascinated.

It was never about power. It was about love.

Then, there was something in me that enjoyed it. There was danger in even reading these passages and books, holed up in a corner, hoping no one would catch me. Sweaty palms, racing heart, veins surging with adrenaline. If it was like that to read about it, what was it like to say those words, cause that devastation, take that life? A small part which festered and expanded. Now, it's consumed.

Crucio

Crucio

Crucio

// Harry fell against the wall and curled in the corner. He twisted and buckled; He couldn't stop a scream escaping his throat as the curse hit him square in the chest. His former classmate, former best friend, former lover grabbed a fistful of his brown hair and dragged up to kneeling. Her nails raked across his cheek.//

Feel it... Feel that? That's real. That's real. It's not unicorns and Flobberworms and flying around on a broom trying to throw a silly ball through a hoop.

I wish you wouldn't look at me like that, you know I'm capable of this torture. Try not to look so shocked. You know I'm capable.

// She threw his head back and he fell on the cold floor. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to think. Tried to think of a way out. He couldn't hold onto his concentration as the absurdity of the situation hit him. This was Hermione. This was her, standing over him, poised to kill. This was his Hermione. How could he have let her go this far?//

I'm sure you knew from the day I cursed Malfoy. Sectumsempra. Poor fool. Twice cursed, twice he failed to block it. No doubt his father would have something to say about being cut open by a Mudblood. A Mudblood spilling his Pure Blood all over the grass as he howled in agony, crying for his mother.

/His beautiful mother. Thighs that were creamy like milk and eyes that cut like glass. It only took one look from her to make me come harder than I ever had before. Her nails raking my back, teeth biting my nipple. The most erotic memory of my life was an hour in which I had secretly stolen her from Lucius. I left a love bite on that thigh. Marring her flawless skin. Claiming her. Giving the Malfoys an awkward conversation in their future. I didn't care./

Poor Draco. I was sure he would die from the blood loss. I watched, fascinated by the consequences of my curse. Well, Severus's curse, but he came not to mind my borrowing it from him.

/He didn't mind. I was twenty five and infiltrating the inner circle. Draco's wounds had never healed. Someone asked him about them at a dinner party. He glared at me and quietly explained. I caught Severus staring at me with such admiration. Who ever thought, in their or my wildest dreams, that Severus Snape would look at me like that. From then on, I started to notice little touches he would give me. Brushing my arm, resting his hand on my back. He was falling in lust with me. He was twice my age. But that certainly did not stop me from giving him something to fantasise about/

But I know now that I didn't hide my pleasure at Draco's pain very well. Over the years I learned to disguise it. A necessity, you understand. But then, my eyes danced in the sight of his blood. Then I caught your eye. I could see myself reflected in your eyes. Bloodthirsty. Hungry for a kill. In your eyes I was cruel.

If Draco hadn't had the strength to Disapparate, I might have finished him off.

That's what you thought wasn't it? Correctly, of course.

//Yes, thought Harry. But he did not dare say it out loud. Part of him still wanted to save her as opposed to kill her. Be the hero, not the murderer.//

A small nagging feeling of doubt tugging on your sleeve, day in, day out. You knew I was growing in power. You remember the day of my first kill. Goyle. Yes, it was in defence of myself and the Order but that didn't detract from it.

You had a policy of 'Catch, not kill' when it came to the Death Eaters. Goyle foolishly jumped out of his hiding place, it startled me. The words had slipped out of my mouth before I could think twice. I doubt he even knew it was his former classmate that pulled the metaphorical trigger. The words, they wanted to be spoken. They desired to.

I was shook up, or I pretended to be. You and Ron rushed to my side, telling me it was for the best, that I had no other choice. I cried as you both enveloped me.

In truth, my whole body was reverberating from the curse. In that moment, I had just become addicted to something powerful. The hand that had been hovering over me for the past few months suddenly closed in and clutched me tightly in its grip. I couldn't breathe. My chest tightened. There was no escaping. I was overwhelmed. So overwhelmed, I started to cry. Not out of sadness or shock, but of happiness. Of relief. I'd finally chosen my fork in the road. I'd beaten the conscience in me into submission and did what my heart greedily desired.

You both held me, and whispered words of comfort. On the way back, I caught you looking at me. You were looking at me like the Killer I was and am.

You were afraid.

Thats what drove you from me. That's why stopped you coming to my room at night. That's why stopped you inviting me into your bed. You couldn't sleep next to a killer. Couldn't allow a killer to taint you.

Your trust in me waned but your desire increased. As much as you hoped what you suspected was wrong, the prospect of it excited you. That's why you let me fuck you at 12 Grimmauld Place, down Knockturn Alley and under the invisibility cloak in the same room with the Minister for Magic as he gave a speech.

//Harry remembers, Oh God, does he remember. He wishes he could go back. Wished he could save her and hold her, like he used to in school.//

I know you couldn't help it. I know now you blame yourself and wish you'd talked to someone, tried to help me before it was too late. It was always too late. There was no going back, no redemption.

I'm not trying to justify it to you, this is just how I got here.

Really, it's more fun on this side. You should join us.

When I say 'us' I'm not sure what I mean. I certainly don't mean Voldemort. Big overture, little show. I never had any interest in following him. But by seeking out his followers, I could seek out my own kind.

His bravado, his Pride. His love of ritual and hatred of Mudbloods annoyed me greatly. Who was he to say he was better than I was? I reminded him rather publicly that he himself was no Pure Blood. Hardly close. Muggle for a father, wasn't it? And damn near Squib for a mother as well? Oh what a proud heritage, you fucking hypocrite.

He told me I had effectively signed my death warrant. I knew different.

I challenged him, in the company of his followers and in the middle of the War the Heros were never going to win.

I killed him. Not for right or the 'Good' side or to be a Heroine.

But because I wanted to.

The more powerful the Wizard, the more power the kill gives you.

The rush, the surge, the charge, the pleasure.

You've never killed anyone, have you? So you don't understand. You don't get what power the Killing Curse gives you. I understand. You just don't know. And I wish you could feel it. The only person you've ever truly wanted to kill is dead by my hand. Maybe this would be you, instead of me. Maybe you would have been pointing a wand at me while I lay broken and defeated on the floor.

Do you feel betrayed? Or upstaged?

Wasn't this your moment?

Wasn't this foreseen?

It didn't say anything about the 'sidekick' in the prophecy, did it? Well this 'sidekick' has moved far beyond you. And your fucking destiny. Voldemort's gone, because he couldn't handle a girl. This was my destiny, Harry. I have always been smarter than you, faster than you, more talented than you. I don't know why you didn't see it coming. Did you think I'd roll over and play dumb while you faced your final battle? That I'd take a supporting role?

How presumptuous of you.

It's your failing, Harry, not mine.

Yours.

Stop looking at me like I'm your friend and I'll let you go with a hug and a 'see you later'.

There are no happy endings, Potter.

I killed Ron. And Ginny. Before they'd even suspected. And you know, killing them was almost nothing. Though I did feel the absence between my thighs. Not with Ron. What I had with him was brief and unsatisfying. But Ginny... Oh I know how you loved Ginny, Harry Potter.

Does it hurt you that every night you chastely kissed her before bed, she would come to my room and I would make her scream like you never would? I would lick her, suck her, kiss her where you never would. She would kiss me like she was dying and inhale the breath of new life after she'd come.

//Harry saw spots before his eyes, his face flushed at her lies. Lies, lies, lies. All lies. Not Ginny, not Ginny. Ginny was his. He leapt forward like a panther. So close to grabbing her and his body was slammed against the wall as it was hit by a jet of light.//

Crucio!

How dare you try and strike me when I'm having a conversation with you!

Don't worry, Harry, I didn't love her. That's what counts, isn't it? That's what gives you your power? Love?

I killed her as she slept. She didn't feel any pain. In those days I couldn't of faced her eyes, I suppose. She gave me a kiss before dying and told me she loved me. She curled up and submitted to sleep. Never to wake again.

//The anger rose up inside Harry again as he tried once more to attack her. Once again, he was struck down.//

Sectumsempra!

Stay down there, Harry, in your pain and anger and blood. Wonderful curse, isn't it? Vital life blood draining.

Finite Incantatem.

Can't have you bleeding to death before I'm done, Harry. That wouldn't do.

All you have to do is ask me, Harry. All you have to do.

How very martyr like, dying silently for the cause. I'll show mercy to you, Harry. I'll show mercy.

By killing you.

No more Cruciatus. If you wish to say something, now would be the time.

//Harry gritted his teeth and got to his feet and pulled himself up to his full height. He snorted, grunted and wiped his bloody nose on his sleeve in vain. His clothes were soaked through with blood.

"Bitch," he breathed. She smiled genially at him, almost looking soft and Hermione-like again.//

Fair enough.

Imperio!

Come give me one last kiss, Harry.

// He tried to fight it but in his heart he didn't want to. He had missed her skin, her smell, her lips. The comfort that it used to bring. When the name 'Hermione' had inspired such feelings of familiarity and love. He walked to her and breathed deeply before placing his lips over hers. His last kiss was a proper one, warm and full of unfulfilled desire and hope. He wished she could feel what he feels with this last kiss. Wished that could change her mind before it was too late.

All too soon it was over. She had pushed him back and he sprawled on the ground like a the gangly teenage boy he had once been. It was only then that he felt the tears sting his eyes. The Boy Who Lived started to cry his last.//

I'll never forget how you taste.

I'll miss you, Harry. I don't love you anymore, but I admire you. I admire how you always try. I almost wish you could still keep trying. But that would be cruel.

Secretly, you're grateful for this. You want death. You wouldn't have let me find you here otherwise. You want to be swallowed in it. And, if I can guess correctly, you believe in some sort of afterlife. Heaven perhaps? Where you'll be reunited with your parents, Dumbledore, the Weasleys and hundreds of others I've killed. I'm sure you'll enjoy your fantasy, Harry.

Give Ginny a kiss for me, would you?

//He couldn't even become incensed by her parting words. He just stared at her and refused to wipe away the furious tears streaming down his cheeks. He wanted to beg her, he wanted to scream at her. He knew it would make no difference.//

Avada Kedavra!

The light left Harry's eyes as he slumped against the ground. She stuck her foot under his body and turned him over. His face was devoid of any expression.

She crouched. She pushed the hair out of his eyes.

She sighed.

She had never felt this way after a kill. Was this the end? Would the Order fall?

She really didn't care. That was it. All the people she had loved, dead. The tightening in her chest slackened. Over.

She hopes he did believe in Heaven.