My Hypocrisy Knows No Bounds

Author Notes: This is decidedly darker than my usual fare, so let's just say I'm just trying to expand my repertoire. In case you're curious, the title comes from a line spoken by Val Kilmer as Doc Holliday in the movie "Tombstone", which is one of my favorite Westerns of recent years. Thanks for reading; enjoy!!

My Hypocrisy Knows No Bounds

Part I

"Mrs. Malfoy?"

"Mrs. Malfoy? Can you tell us what happened? Please, it's terribly important." The voice, which sounded somewhat familiar, was filled with concern. She wondered vaguely if she knew the woman. Searching her scattered memories, she asked herself, Who is that? Do I know you?

Where am I?

Before she could organize her thoughts or fashion a solitary coherent word, her husband arrived. He lunged for her and held her tightly. "Oh, Ginny," he sighed, his face flush with relief. "Thank God, the Aurors have found you. Are you all right?" As he spoke, tears filled his eyes then fell over his pale lashes. Then he pulled away to look into her face, searching her eyes for the truth as he stroked her auburn hair tenderly. "Darling, what happened?"

"I don't know," Ginny said flatly. "I - I think - I just don't know."

One of the Aurors took over, saying, "Mrs. Malfoy, I'm Bedelia Armstrong, and this is my partner, Edmund Goodspeak. If you could remember anything that would help us determine what happened . . any recollection at all. We want to see that the person or persons responsible are brought to justice."

She looked at Draco timidly, as if requesting his permission or approval to speak. He reassured her lovingly, "Go on, Princess. It's all right."

She licked her lips and furrowed her brow in concentration. Then she said, "Well, it all began this morning when Hermione and her mother offered to take my daughter - our daughter," she corrected, looking up at Draco affectionately, "Rhiannon, to Muggle London to see the sites. They were taking Harry and Hermione's two girls, and both of them had begged mercilessly for Rhiannon to come along." She paused and shrugged, "With Draco out of town for a few days, I imagined myself enjoying a tub full of peaches and cream bubble bath, Mrs. Divine's Guiltfree Chocolates, and a romance novel - so naturally, I said yes. I mean, how often does the mother of a four-year-old spitfire get a few hours alone, all to herself?"

Draco interjected, "But sweetheart, don't you remember? Rhiannon has been at her Uncle George's and Aunt Katie's since yesterday."

"No, I don't," she admitted guiltily. Feeling stupid, she pushed back fresh tears and asked him, "Is she really?" Recomposing herself, she continued with her statement. "What I believed, at the time, was that Hermione, her daughters Lily and Jamie, and her mother had left with Rhiannon at around 10 a.m. I did a few errands then had a gloriously relaxing day. Around 3:30, the phellytone rang."

"The what?" Bedelia interrupted.

"Oh, sorry - the telephone. It's a device that Muggles use for instant communication. Harry and Hermione were both raised in Muggle homes, and neither one would be without theirs."

"But what does it do?" Edmund asked suspiciously, "Is it safe?"

"Of course it is," Ginny laughed. "When it rings, you pick it up and talk; it's kind of like you're being Flooed, only you can't be transported or actually see the other person. Besides, ever since Draco helped the Ministry in apprehending a number of his father's friends, we don't feel safe being on the Floo Network. And it's much faster than sending owls."

Both Aurors nodded in understanding. Miss Armstrong remarked softly, "Fascinating!"

Ginny sighed and continued. "I answered, and it was Harry. He said that Hermione had rung him up and said that she and the girls had already dropped off her mum and were all on their way back to the Potters. I said fine, I would be right over to pick up Rhiannon.

"I Apparated to their front porch, and Harry stood in front of me. There was something about him; I can't put my finger on it, but from the moment I arrived, he didn't - act quite like himself." She stopped and exhaled a frustrated breath. "Sorry, but that's honestly the last thing I remember . . . So you tell me, where did five hours disappear to?" she asked through her tears. Draco smiled at her sadly then turned to the Aurors.

Edmund and Bedelia held a semi-private conference to analyze the situation, deciding what course of action to take next. Draco eavesdropped without compunction, offering a few suggestions of his own, even though conducting this type of investigation was not his regular line of work. After some minutes, the three of them came to an agreement. Bedelia said matter-of-factly, "Mrs. Malfoy, you have obviously been Memory Charmed, possibly even Confunded. To get past your memory block, both charms must be broken. We need to get you to Saint Mungo's - and frankly, the sooner, the better. Are you up to it?" she challenged, making Ginny feel that full compliance was expected.

"Yes, of course," she said, gathering her strength.

Draco, Ginny, and both Aurors Apparated to the world-renowned wizarding hospital. They took the lift to the fifth floor, where Draco arranged for a private room for his wife. She was dressed in standard hospital robes, causing her husband to smirk. He promptly embellished them to make them look like they actually belonged on his wife. Much better, he thought, admiring his own handiwork.

Shortly after, the two Aurors rejoined them. Ginny sat upright in the bed, with Draco at her side in a comfortably fluffy armchair. When no immediate action was taken, his patience grew thin. He cleared his throat and asked presumptuously, "Exactly what are we waiting for?"

No sooner had the words left him when a short, elderly Healer arrived on the spot. She had piercing blue eyes, a passel of wrinkles, and white hair. She leaned over Ginny's bed and patted her hand, speaking softly to her in a soothing voice. She assisted the Aurors by administering some thick, dark violet potion. When she uttered the first few spells needed to reverse the Memory Charm and remove the Confundus Charm, Ginny blacked out.

Soon a stern voice said, "Ginevra Malfoy, can you hear me?"

"Yes," she answered calmly, her eyes still closed. She was completely unaware of her surroundings or who was speaking to her. She drifted in and out of consciousness. She wondered vaguely whether or not Draco was still present or if he had been asked to leave for the procedure. Then she thought about her daughter, imagining how much she must be enjoying herself with George's five young, rambunctious children.

"Tell us everything. Exactly what happened after you arrived at the Potters' house this afternoon?"

She squeezed her eyes shut even tighter in concentration. Then she started to remember . . .

Part II

As she entered the Potter home, Harry greeted her pleasantly. "Hello, Ginny, you look radiant," he said, taking her hand. He kissed her cheek with familiarity, as if he actually were the seventh brother she had come to know him as. He let out a small laugh and commented, "You must have enjoyed your day alone. You're positively glowing."

Glowing? she thought. "Thank you, Harry, you're looking well too," she replied with a self-conscious chuckle. He shut the door behind them as she entered the foyer and approached the living area. Looking around for the girls, she asked, "So where are they?" When she heard girlish laughter and the stomping of feet overhead, she formulated her own answer. "Oh, they're upstairs. Sounds like they're having a grand time, as usual. Is Hermione with them?"

"Yeah, they're all up in the girls' room, no doubt putting their treasures away. They stopped off at that embarrassingly humongous new mall that just opened. It's supposed to have everything," Harry said casually. Then that strangely vacant look returned to his face, and it reminded her of someone else, although she couldn't think who. He was staring at her intently.

"What is it, Harry?" she asked, eyeing him warily. "You seem a bit . . odd today."

"It's just so good to see you again, Mrs. Malfoy," he said, reaching out to touch her hair. "It's been so long."

She snorted, "Don't call me that! It makes me feel old. Besides, I just saw you the other day--"

But she was cut off mid-sentence when he suddenly leapt at her, pinned her to the wall, and pressed his lips to hers in a desperate kiss. Holding her firmly by the wrists, his chest and hips were next to hers, grinding against her so she could feel his growing desire.

He hissed, "Ginny, I want you. I've wanted you for so long, I'm burning up inside . . I . . I swear, I just can't wait any longer."

"Harry, get off me!" she snarled indignantly. She tried to shove him away, but he came back at her with renewed vigor, as if the scuffle was turning him on even more. She could feel that it definitely was.

"I know you want me. Say it, say you do," he pleaded. His voice had an unfamiliar ring to it, yet it was instantly recognizable to her.

Staring in disbelief that this was actually happening, she scolded, "Harry Potter! You are married to my best friend and have two children with her! I have a husband I am deeply in love with, I've borne him a daughter - are you mad?"

"Yes, that's it exactly, I'm mad. Mad with desire, completely mad for you," he moaned, as he nibbled at her neck and tongued her earlobe. "Oh, Ginny, you're mine. You always were, even though you married him. That's just a legality, but this . . this is flesh and blood. You belong to me, darling; don't deny me what's rightfully mine."

She had placed her hands on his chest in a futile attempt to throw him off of her. Years of Quidditch have done his scrawny physique good, she decided. He was relentless, and his breathing was becoming erratic. When his right hand reached her left breast, she tried with even more effort to push him off, wishing she had not been so careless as to leave her wand on the table in the foyer. She freed one of her wrists and slapped him hard, leaving a red mark on his cheek. She reproached him severely, "Need I remind you - your wife is upstairs, as are my daughter and yours as well?!"

Coming back to his senses, he released her as quickly as if he had touched a scalding-hot cauldron. He sighed, panting heavily, "You're right. This isn't - we shouldn't." In between breaths, he swallowed and murmured, "I don't know what got into me. I'm so sorry, Ginny." He backed away to allow her space to pass by, and she moved quickly toward the stairs to collect her child. "Can you ever forgive me?" he asked in a humble tone.

Quite shaken by the experience, she sniffed, "Just let me just get Rhiannon, say hello to Hermione and the girls, and then I'll be on my way. We'll pretend this never happened. Never breathe a word of this to anyone, certainly not to Draco or Ron," she implored as she practically ran up the stairs.

"I won't, ever. I truly am sorry," he said repentantly. "Believe me, it won't happen again." He followed her upstairs, pacing himself far enough behind her that she would not feel uncomfortable in his presence. As they approached the landing next to the girls' room, Harry shouted, "Rhiannon, your mum's here for you. Is everyone dressed?" Squeals of excitement issued from behind the closed door.

Ginny, trying to downplay what had happened moments before, remarked wryly, "They must have gotten some pretty good things. Listen, if Hermione bought anything at the mall for my daughter, I will gladly pay her back."

"Don't be silly," he laughed nervously. "She loves doing that for her. Consider it a gift." She knocked on the door gently.

"Come in," a child's voice said from within. Ginny obeyed the summons, anxious to pick up Rhiannon so they could just leave.

On turning the handle, she found the room was dark and quiet. There was no one inside. What happened? she wondered to herself. "Where are they?" she asked.

Harry came up from behind her and turned her around to face him, the lunacy in his eyes once more. He pushed her backwards, forcing her further into the deserted room. As he lazily transfigured one of the children's beds into a much larger, more luxurious one, he shook his head and stated what was patently obvious. "Guess they're not here after all. Whatever shall we do until they arrive?" he asked, raising his eyebrows and twirling his wand casually.

For a moment, she was too stunned to move; when she tried to dart out of the room, he grabbed for her. Pressing his body against hers, she toppled over onto the mattress, landing in a rather awkward position. He took the opportunity to settle himself between her long legs and said, "Yes, Hermione did call, but it was to say they were going to take in a show. Plenty of time for us to get to know one another more - intimately." He resumed his insistent kisses as his hands pushed their way into her clothing. He moaned, "Ohh, Ginny, my beautiful . . ravishing . . . fire goddess."

"No, no - but - but I heard them," she said adamantly, wriggling underneath him in a vain attempt to fend off his advances. "They were upstairs, up here."

"But as you can see, they're not here," he said, as though she were incredibly thick. "I charmed the room to get you to go upstairs."

He proceeded to unbutton her blouse. She begged him to stop, but when he wouldn't, she pleaded tearfully, "Harry, please, no - this isn't right."

"Yes. This is most definitely right." Then he grasped his wand and muttered coldly, "Imperio."

She suddenly felt an undeniable urge to give herself to him. Her hands were everywhere, first reaching in his robes to loosen his trousers and then working desperately to remove her own clothes. She touched him gently, her delicate fingers setting his skin on fire. A low growl of desire issued from the back of her throat, and Harry quickly lost any semblance of control when she begged him in a soft whisper: "Please. Love me."

He gladly complied. He praised any gods that had ever existed when she murmured sweetly, "I love you, Harry. I've only ever loved you." How many times had he wished for this, that it was him she loved, and not Draco? How often had he watched in jealous silence, as Draco wrapped his arms possessively around that lovely body of hers?

When Ginny started dating Hogwarts' most spoiled brat, Harry found that he sorely missed her attention, and he began to crave it more than ever. He thought about her often and became determined to have her. He knew deep in his mind that this wasn't exactly legal . . and yet he felt no regrets - just a mixture of lust, joy, ecstasy, and power. It was delightfully exhilarating.

He silently thanked Severus for brewing that batch of Everlast, the new sexual endurance potion fashioned after a Muggle potency drug. Time crept by unnoticed, and he eventually began plotting exactly how he would alter the memory of the lovely creature beneath him. By the time his potion had started to wear off, he was utterly exhausted and completely sated. He gave her one last languid kiss, then modified her memory, Confunded her, and Portkeyed her to a secluded spot near the back of the gardens at Malfoy Manor. That was where the Aurors had found her, speaking in riddles and laughing to herself.

Part III

When Ginny had finished giving her statement, Mr. Goodspeak asked her in a very serious tone, "And you say your assailant was Harry Potter? Are you quite sure?"

"Yes, I'm positive," Ginny confirmed testily. "I was in his home, for Chrissake!"

Bedelia suggested, "Perhaps it was someone using Polyjuice Potion?"

Ginny sneered, "Nice try, but in four hours, I never once saw him drink anything, except maybe water. At least . . as far as I could tell."

"No, then I suppose that's not likely. And what you've told us is everything, exactly as it happened?" Ginny nodded weakly, her tears spent, her exhaustion now complete. Bedelia gasped and said to no one in particular, "I just find it incredible. Who would have ever thought Harry Potter capable of such an act?"

A third Auror knocked and entered the room, pulling the other two aside. Draco eyed them all suspiciously. He was outraged, fully prepared to snap Potter's neck like a toothpick. No one touches Ginny but me, and certainly not 'Saint Potter', he thought.

"Mrs. Malfoy? Mr. Malfoy?" the new visitor spoke up. "We've located Mrs. Potter. She and her daughters have been at the Grangers' house since last Thursday, as Mr. Potter's Quidditch team was scheduled to be in Frankfurt through Friday then go on to Bulgaria. At least that much of the story checks out.

"We've been unable to reach Mr. Potter, but his teammates said that he was at an all-night victory celebration with them following the game, which ran into the wee hours of the morning. Oliver Wood was able to vouch for him up until about nine this morning, at which point he took a Sobriety Potion and then went to his hotel room, apparently to sleep it off." The Auror then added his own personal viewpoint. "And if he was as pissed as Wood says he was, I don't see how he could have been at his house the time you say," he finished skeptically, "sexually assaulting you." When he saw Draco's livid expression and noticed his hand wrapping into a tight fist, the man added hastily, "Of course, he will be brought in for questioning. All leads must be checked."

Draco roared, "He'd damn well better - I expect to see that spineless worm punished! Casting an Unforgivable, just so he could have his way with my wife? I don't care if he did vanquish You-Know-Who; what kind of 'Savior of the Wizarding World' pulls shit like that?!" Pointing a finger in the poor man's face, he added icily, "You know I have the gold to get the best lawyers in Britain - and believe me, they'll see to it that the little bastard gets himself a rattly, putrid, icy-cold Kiss! If I don't get to him first!"

Miss Armstrong replied directly, "Mr. Malfoy, please let us handle this. We'll be in touch. Good evening." The three Aurors left the room, and as they did, Edmund casting a Calming Charm over the couple.

Draco and Ginny spent a few moments in tranquil silence and reflection. Soon, the aged Healer who had assisted the Aurors earlier came back in, saying comfortingly, "Is she feeling better? Mr. Malfoy, perhaps you had better go now. Visiting hours ended some time ago. Your wife will be ready to return home in the morning, won't you, my dear?" She gave Ginny a warm smile then waited by the door, indicating that Draco should leave immediately.

Before he did, he reassured her, "Don't worry, my love. You're going to be all right now. I'll stop by in the morning to get you. Rest easy - I love you, Ginny." He held her close to him for a moment. After he kissed her lips tenderly, he allowed the Healer to escort him out of the room.

He left Saint Mungo's in haste. He was on a mission to the continent.

Meanwhile, Ginny's overnight stay at Saint Mungo's was a restless one, filled with bizarre dreams and fitful sleep. She awoke well before dawn and found an envelope propped up on her nightstand. It was simply addressed to Mrs. Ginevra Weasley Malfoy with no indication who it was from. She opened it carefully. The enclosed parchment was stamped with the logo from the Hotel Frankfurt and read simply:

My Dearest Ginny,

Thank you for the lovely afternoon. Hope we can do it again sometime soon.

Yours always,

Harry

She let out a blood-curdling scream, awakening the dozing Assistant Healers, who rushed to her aid.

Epilogue

Sometime between dusk and dawn, Harry Potter awoke slowly in his posh German hotel room. He was feeling the effects of a massive hangover, so when he thought he saw someone moving about his room, he didn't fully trust his eyes. He donned his glasses and blinked at the stranger, whose hair was so light, it shone like a halo in the sliver of moonlight that slipped between the slit in the curtains. At first, he thought it was Draco, but then he questioned his judgment, thinking vaguely, Ginny didn't say he would be in Germany this week. Why the hell would he be in my hotel room? And why is he wearing such strange robes? Say, aren't those - the ones like female Healers wear?

He croaked, "Malfoy?"

His uninvited guest said, "Hello, Potter." Then the man sighed contentedly to himself, "Gods, what a great day. It's been so very . . liberating! Nothing like getting out of Azkaban to lighten one's mood."

Harry tried to get up, but he felt like he would be sick if he did. Lying back down, he groaned, "Oh, my throbbing head--"

"Yes, I would imagine so," the man remarked callously. He promptly put Harry in a full body bind and cast a Silencing Charm on him. Transfiguring his own robes to a more masculine style, he observed, "You've had quite the busy day, haven't you, Mr. Potter?" Harry struggled to break free, but he could neither budge nor speak.

He sat down to pen another note; unlike Ginny's, this one would not need to be owled, as it was for the sole occupant of this hotel room. As he wrote, he spoke to Harry as if the younger man were actually aware of what he was saying to him. "I always knew you wanted her. Guess we both got a little of what you wanted today, hmm?" he said, laughing wickedly. Looking up from his parchment, he asked with a leer, "Well, Potter, did you enjoy her as well as I?" Harry's eyes closed in shame, and a tear slipped out as he sobbed silently. The intruder chuckled, "Yes, it looks like I'm not the only man who relished this most pleasurable afternoon. She was glorious, wasn't she?"

He resumed his writing. A few minutes later, he tutted in a superior tone, "You know, Potter, you really should have pursued those Occlumency lessons Snape offered you much more diligently. Of course, his skills in that department didn't really help him after all, as he very recently met with a sticky end himself. After he prepared the Everlast Potion for me - I told him I wanted to 'bond' with my wife again, after all this time away - he refused to brew a Confundus Locking Potion, so I had no further use for him.

"But fortunately, McNair still has his uses, illegal potions being one of them. He managed to fix me up a batch of what I needed, and Ginny's memories of today--" he gave an amused smirk, "will be with her always. And with your wife, the entire Weasley brood, and of course . . . with you. You will lose everyone who ever held you dear. And just think, Potter: if your body and soul manage to stay, shall we say, 'intact', and you are allowed to simply rot in Azkaban instead of being Kissed, you'll have all those agonizing memories of what I did to put you there. Now isn't that ironic?" Smiling with malevolent glee, he rose to leave.

His note finished, he cast a charm on the parchment so that only Harry could read its actual contents; to anyone else, it would show the diagram of a complex Quidditch play. He casually tossed it on top of Harry's chest, unbound him and removed the Silencing Charm, then Apparated to an unplottable location. Breathing rapidly, Harry ripped at the note furiously and read in horror:

Mr. Harry Potter,

You may expect a visitor or two very soon. It will either be Aurors to arrest you or my son to kill you. I don't care who arrives first, but you will be accused of raping Draco's hot, sexy wife and using the Imperius Curse to do it. Don't worry; I'm sure they'll set you up with a nice, cozy room with a guard who will want nothing more than to give you a Kiss . . or perhaps my son will just reunite you with your parents. As you know, he's frightfully protective over his bride.

But I must give credit where it's due: your easily-penetrated mind, the incredibly weak security wards on your property, the ease with which my daughter-in-law can be manipulated into believing what she sees, instead of what is actually in front of her - or should I say on top of her? By the way, did you know that an added bonus of Everlast is that the sperm can survive much longer inside the woman's body to help ensure pregnancy? But by the time they discover she is with child - mine, of course, and I assure you, she will be - it will be far too late to do anything about your alleged innocence. You'll either be dead, or as good as, and when the little one arrives, it will look so much like Draco, everyone will merely assume it is his.

Ah, life is good!

Forgive my rambling, Potter. In closing, I feel I must thank you for a most invigorating afternoon. She was indeed heavenly, and I enjoyed her thoroughly. And now that you have 'personal experience', I ask you, aren't pureblood witches ever so much better than mudbloods? However, once you're gone, perhaps I will go and pay Mrs. Potter a visit as well . . just to be sure.

Best Wishes,

Lucius Malfoy

P.S. Revenge never tasted so honey-sweet.

~The End~