Fighter

Fighter

'Cause it makes me that much stronger
Makes me work a little bit harder
It makes me that much wiser
So thanks for making me a fighter
Made me learn a little bit faster
Made my skin a little bit thicker
Makes me that much smarter
So thanks for making me a fighter

~ Christina Aguilera - Fighter

He stood awkwardly by the door as the party blasted into full swing. Anyone who was anyone in the wizarding world was there. He was sure he'd seen the famous Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, as well as the infamous Draco Malfoy. They were all so grown up from when he's last seen them. Harry Potter still remained The Boy Who Lived, as well as The Boy Who Defeated and The Man Who Was One Promotion Away From the Minister of Magic. Draco Malfoy was still the bad boy, modelling for every single clothes label that existed, and named the Most Eligible Wizard Bachelor by Witch Weekly, closely followed by Ron (Harry had settled down into married life with Ginny). Ron Weasley was Keeper for the Chudley Cannons (regardless of how dramatically his hair clashed with their bright orange Quidditch strip), and Keeper for England. However, he was not here to see them. Parties were never really his thing though; he'd only come to see her.

His eyes cast around the crowd of dancing and chattering celebrities, not bothering to talk to anyone. His gaze suddenly stopped. He was sure he'd spotted her. Fighting his way through all of the people there, he walked over to where she was conversing with Ron and Harry. He marvelled at how much she had changed. Her chocolate hair was tamed into tumbling curls, and her cinnamon eyes were unusually bright and full of life. Her black dress clung to her curvy figure, and the silver bracelets on her arm jangled as she talked animatedly. Like her friends, her career had also pushed her into the limelight. She had taken Moody's (or Crouch's) advice from Fourth Year, and after leaving school had pursued a career as an Auror. Fortunately, scar-healing charms were more advanced than they had been when Moody was at the height of his career, and her face remained flawless, despite many dangerous encounters on her part.

He changed his path of direction, so that he came up behind her. Harry noticed him first, and said quickly,

"Er 'Mione, there's someone behind you." She turned, and faced him. Her beautiful face contorted into one of disgust, but she quickly covered it. Behind her, Harry and Ron exchanged worried glances. It had never been like Hermione to have nothing to say. For once though, she didn't. She thought she'd never have to face him again.

~FLASHBACK~

They stood together on the balcony, illuminated by the moonlight. Her innocent nature seemed oblivious to the seductive gestures he had thrown at her while she blathered on about how much she was enjoying herself.

"The history over here is so interesting, and the architecture . . . ," he interrupted her with a full-on kiss. They had kissed before, but he had never been so forceful, so demanding. He began to tug at her shirt as they broke away.

"Please," she whispered, "Don't," he responded by sliding his hand towards the waist of her skirt. "Don't," she said, more desperately this time, but he ignored her. It didn't take him long to tear off her clothes and grab the squirming girl. He took her inside, to his bedroom, where he pushed her on the bed, and muffled her cries by urging his lips over hers. He removed his own clothes and had his way with her.

Afterwards, he lay next to her, satisfied. He took her trembling body in his hands. She shivered at his touch, and said, "I . . . I asked you not to." She wriggled away, and ran from the room, her head hanging in shame as she collected her things and pulled them around her.

The next morning, she felt sick, sick at herself. Sick for not being strong enough to say no. She hid underneath the covers, complaining of a non-existent headache. It wasn't long before he came in to "see her". His visit soon turned into more, pinning her under him and treating her roughly. That wasn't the last time. Whenever she was alone, he would take advantage. Whenever she cried, he ordered her to stop whimpering and start living up to his needs. What did she expect? Him to give her a box of Kleenex?

~END FLASHBACK~

These events stuck in her head like a broken video, playing her misery over and over again. Then she thought of everything she had gained. Everything she had become. Everything she had to be proud of since him. Finally she said, "What? Need me to act whore again?". She could sense Harry and Ron's opened mouths behind her. Not only were those words so unlike her own, they had never known what really went on between the two standing in front of them. "Or come to say sorry for using me?"

He said nothing. This was not how he planned. She was supposed to shout at him, then regret it and fall into his arms and love him forever. "Because if you are here to apologise, you can shove it up your arse. Did you think I would hate you? But I don't. You did something for me. You made me something that I really have to say thank you for. Thanks for making me a fighter, I really couldn't have done it without you."

With that, she turned to leave. He stood there, bewildered, before calling, "But Herm-own-ninny!" She spun around, and looked him in the eye.

"But what Viktor? Sure, I owe you a lot, but I've said thank you," Without thinking, she shouted at the top of her voice, so that all attention was focused in him and her, "Thanks for making me a fighter."

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