When You Hurt - 2/7
Author:Irisri
Title:It Doesn't Matter 2/7
Rating:R for brief description of rape and language
Summary:It really doesn't matter if a person saves the world, if they helped a little puppy off the road or screamed to stop a murder that was happening before their eyes. They can still be evil, and can still hurt, and it doesn't matter who.
Word Count:1,509
Pairing:Harry/Hermione, Hermione/Other
Disclaimer:I don't own Harry Potter
It's just amazing how your life can change completely in less than even five seconds. That's what happened with my life. I dropped a plate. A plate. A plastic plate at that. And Harry turned on me. I wouldn't have had time to even snap my fingers, that's how fast it was. All I know was I was picking up the plate on second, the next I was sprawled on the floor, clutching my cheek, and felt tears sting my eyes.
"Clumsy bitch," he hissed. "Can't you do anything right besides showing off your spells and potions and charms? You don't even do the laundry right. Worthless Mudblood."
I flinched, but replied hotly as I stood up, "You can really talk, Harry. Always gone. How many girls do you have a night, trying to get them to say you've been their best ever?" I was clutching my cheek again within seconds, but I laughed anyway, even as the tears started to fall.
"Harry Potter," I mocked. "The Boy Who Lived, the Savior of the Wizarding world, can't even get a girl to say he's the best she's had."
"Shut up, bitch!" He hissed and jumped on me and started to clutch my throat. "What do you know?" He asked savagely. "Filthy worthless Mudblood! You sure spread your legs for me eagerly, whore. Slut! What do you know?"
"A lot... more---" I coughed. "Than... you... obviously..." He squeezed my throat tighter and I clawed at his hand that was currently trapping air in my throat. "Harry," I whispered finally. "You're... choking... Harry..." It came out raspy and a whisper and I could barely hear it myself. He did though and the look of madness left his eyes and he let go of my throat like it was a white-hot brand.
"Hermione, oh god, Hermione," he whispered. His weight was still crushing me, making it hard to breathe even though my windpipe was no longer being clutched. "I-I don't know what--happened. Hermione, oh Merlin, I'm sorry, Hermione. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, baby. I'm sorry. I love you. I would never hurt you. Never."
I flinched anyway. As though he'd struck me again. "Forget it, Harry," I whispered, my throat was now sore. "Just forget it. I need to check on James and Rebel."
"Hermione---"
"No, Harry. Forget it. Don't do it again though," I added in a scared whispered. He tried to reach for me but I left.
******
The next time he did it, I had forgotten to pick up some milk at the grocery shop. I earned a bruise the size of two of my fists on my stomach and fingerprint-bruises on my arm because of it.
The next time, he'd tripped over one of Rebel's toy trucks and said that I left it there on purpose in hopes that he would get killed. At first, it happened about once a month. I could deal with that. It was like a period for a bloke named Harry Potter. I just stayed out of his way when that time came around and tried to do everything perfect. he always found a reason to hurt me, to hit me, but I found that the bruises weren't as bad if I tried to be perfect. He'd always say he was sorry and that he loved me afterwards and tried to hold me. I never let him.
Then, a week after his usual schedule for using me as a punching bag, I broke a knife trying to cut it through an apple and he yelled at me. Then he grabbed the knife from me and sliced it down my arm. My back had arched and I screamed. He said that I was lucky that he loved me, because no one else would have a stupid ugly Mudblood like me. And then he stabbed the knife into my flesh again, this time tearing my shirt and stabbing it into my breast. The pain was so intense that I crumpled onto the floor sobbing. He stood there, breathing hard, his eyes still angry and crazy. He walked out of the room, leaving me there. He didn't say he was sorry that time. And that was also the day I was broken.
******
The first time he forced me, we'd been at a party for the Minstry. He had suddenly pulled me into a broom cupboard and ripped me clothing before shoving into me. I screamed, even though I knew no one could hear me because he'd cast a Silencing charm on me. I hadn't been ready, and it hurt more than anything I'd ever experienced. I would have rathered him to use the knife to carve images on my breasts. I'd arched against him and shuddered and it hurt. It hurt so much. I sobbed and he whispered filthy things in my ear and I pushed down the urge to slap him even though I was in pain. He'd come with a grunt and a shudder and sagged against me and pressed me to the back of the wall. I felt a broom on my spine, and he pulled out and smiled like everything was okay. I felt something trickle down my thighs and knew it was either his come or blood. Probably both. He did a quick cleaning charm and fixed my clothes. He waited for me to put them on me before he opened the cupboard and pointed his wand at me and I knew he had released the Silencing spell. But I still hurt. And I wiped away my tears and put on a brave face and a smile. I walked so carefully, anyone would have thought I'd been shagged by two men, willingly, I could tell by the way they looked at me. But I was walking that way because it even though it hurt to walk, it hurt more to walk normally.
******
The day Rebel turned eight, we went to the candy and ice cream stores as a treat to her. She wanted chocolate frogs and a new kind of ice cream. We let her get it. The reporters were swarming around that day. It had been pretty warm and I had worn a turtleneck shirt and jeans. The 'Harry Potter' questions had started to drive me mad and I finally asked Harry if we could go home before giving him a fake 'Jump in bed with me' smile. His eyes narrowed at me questionally, and I looked at him, silently pleading. He finally relented and said that they would drop the kids off at their grandmum's house. I started to say that I wanted them home and he glared at him and I quieted.
After we dropped the kids off, we apparated home and he wasted no time with ripping my clothes.
"Harry, I don't want---"
"Shut up, bitch. Or I'll tie you up."
I silenced without the need of a Silencing spell. He cursed and left the room, coming back with a gleaming knife. I jumped and whimpered. "Harry, please..."
"Shut up. I'm not going to cut you. I'm going to merely do my husbandly act."
I let him slice my clothes and stood there naked and uncovered, stripped bare for anyone who walked in to see. He licked his lips before lying down on the floor. When he saw that I had no intention of kneeling beside him, his hand shot up and snaked around my wrist before yanking me down hard. I didn't bite back my cry of pain, knowing that it would be over sooner if he heard me scream, because he liked me hurting, liked knowing it. He lifted me up and before I could protest, impaled himself inside me and I screamed because I wasn't ready. I never was. I whimpered and tried to pull myself off him and he let me for a second before jerking me back down and I screamed as I felt myself split in two. "Harry," I whimpered and tears fell off my cheeks. "Please stop... P-please stop!"
He grunted and ignored me, just like he always did. I screamed over and over again, felt blood trickle between us, knowing it wasn't my time of the month. His breathing became labored and then I saw it. The knife was gleaming two feet away from us. I gritted my teeth and then leaned forward to press myself against him. Gritting my teeth didn't stop the scream that followed and I heard him laugh softly in my ear.
"Like that, don't you, whore?"
I sat up quickly, hoping to make the pain be a flash and not a long drawn out thing. It didn't stop my scream. And my scream of agony didn't stop my hand from stabbing onto his stomach. His look of surprise was evident and I sat there, motionless and then I whispered, "I'm sorry Harry. But I can't let you hurt me anymore. Voldemort will be alive as long as you are." And with a twist of my wrists, he was dead.
Chapters
Murder, When You Hurt, The Attorney, Would You Believe?, The Trial, Judgement, Coming Home
Title:It Doesn't Matter 2/7
Rating:R for brief description of rape and language
Summary:It really doesn't matter if a person saves the world, if they helped a little puppy off the road or screamed to stop a murder that was happening before their eyes. They can still be evil, and can still hurt, and it doesn't matter who.
Word Count:1,509
Pairing:Harry/Hermione, Hermione/Other
Disclaimer:I don't own Harry Potter
It's just amazing how your life can change completely in less than even five seconds. That's what happened with my life. I dropped a plate. A plate. A plastic plate at that. And Harry turned on me. I wouldn't have had time to even snap my fingers, that's how fast it was. All I know was I was picking up the plate on second, the next I was sprawled on the floor, clutching my cheek, and felt tears sting my eyes.
"Clumsy bitch," he hissed. "Can't you do anything right besides showing off your spells and potions and charms? You don't even do the laundry right. Worthless Mudblood."
I flinched, but replied hotly as I stood up, "You can really talk, Harry. Always gone. How many girls do you have a night, trying to get them to say you've been their best ever?" I was clutching my cheek again within seconds, but I laughed anyway, even as the tears started to fall.
"Harry Potter," I mocked. "The Boy Who Lived, the Savior of the Wizarding world, can't even get a girl to say he's the best she's had."
"Shut up, bitch!" He hissed and jumped on me and started to clutch my throat. "What do you know?" He asked savagely. "Filthy worthless Mudblood! You sure spread your legs for me eagerly, whore. Slut! What do you know?"
"A lot... more---" I coughed. "Than... you... obviously..." He squeezed my throat tighter and I clawed at his hand that was currently trapping air in my throat. "Harry," I whispered finally. "You're... choking... Harry..." It came out raspy and a whisper and I could barely hear it myself. He did though and the look of madness left his eyes and he let go of my throat like it was a white-hot brand.
"Hermione, oh god, Hermione," he whispered. His weight was still crushing me, making it hard to breathe even though my windpipe was no longer being clutched. "I-I don't know what--happened. Hermione, oh Merlin, I'm sorry, Hermione. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, baby. I'm sorry. I love you. I would never hurt you. Never."
I flinched anyway. As though he'd struck me again. "Forget it, Harry," I whispered, my throat was now sore. "Just forget it. I need to check on James and Rebel."
"Hermione---"
"No, Harry. Forget it. Don't do it again though," I added in a scared whispered. He tried to reach for me but I left.
******
The next time he did it, I had forgotten to pick up some milk at the grocery shop. I earned a bruise the size of two of my fists on my stomach and fingerprint-bruises on my arm because of it.
The next time, he'd tripped over one of Rebel's toy trucks and said that I left it there on purpose in hopes that he would get killed. At first, it happened about once a month. I could deal with that. It was like a period for a bloke named Harry Potter. I just stayed out of his way when that time came around and tried to do everything perfect. he always found a reason to hurt me, to hit me, but I found that the bruises weren't as bad if I tried to be perfect. He'd always say he was sorry and that he loved me afterwards and tried to hold me. I never let him.
Then, a week after his usual schedule for using me as a punching bag, I broke a knife trying to cut it through an apple and he yelled at me. Then he grabbed the knife from me and sliced it down my arm. My back had arched and I screamed. He said that I was lucky that he loved me, because no one else would have a stupid ugly Mudblood like me. And then he stabbed the knife into my flesh again, this time tearing my shirt and stabbing it into my breast. The pain was so intense that I crumpled onto the floor sobbing. He stood there, breathing hard, his eyes still angry and crazy. He walked out of the room, leaving me there. He didn't say he was sorry that time. And that was also the day I was broken.
******
The first time he forced me, we'd been at a party for the Minstry. He had suddenly pulled me into a broom cupboard and ripped me clothing before shoving into me. I screamed, even though I knew no one could hear me because he'd cast a Silencing charm on me. I hadn't been ready, and it hurt more than anything I'd ever experienced. I would have rathered him to use the knife to carve images on my breasts. I'd arched against him and shuddered and it hurt. It hurt so much. I sobbed and he whispered filthy things in my ear and I pushed down the urge to slap him even though I was in pain. He'd come with a grunt and a shudder and sagged against me and pressed me to the back of the wall. I felt a broom on my spine, and he pulled out and smiled like everything was okay. I felt something trickle down my thighs and knew it was either his come or blood. Probably both. He did a quick cleaning charm and fixed my clothes. He waited for me to put them on me before he opened the cupboard and pointed his wand at me and I knew he had released the Silencing spell. But I still hurt. And I wiped away my tears and put on a brave face and a smile. I walked so carefully, anyone would have thought I'd been shagged by two men, willingly, I could tell by the way they looked at me. But I was walking that way because it even though it hurt to walk, it hurt more to walk normally.
******
The day Rebel turned eight, we went to the candy and ice cream stores as a treat to her. She wanted chocolate frogs and a new kind of ice cream. We let her get it. The reporters were swarming around that day. It had been pretty warm and I had worn a turtleneck shirt and jeans. The 'Harry Potter' questions had started to drive me mad and I finally asked Harry if we could go home before giving him a fake 'Jump in bed with me' smile. His eyes narrowed at me questionally, and I looked at him, silently pleading. He finally relented and said that they would drop the kids off at their grandmum's house. I started to say that I wanted them home and he glared at him and I quieted.
After we dropped the kids off, we apparated home and he wasted no time with ripping my clothes.
"Harry, I don't want---"
"Shut up, bitch. Or I'll tie you up."
I silenced without the need of a Silencing spell. He cursed and left the room, coming back with a gleaming knife. I jumped and whimpered. "Harry, please..."
"Shut up. I'm not going to cut you. I'm going to merely do my husbandly act."
I let him slice my clothes and stood there naked and uncovered, stripped bare for anyone who walked in to see. He licked his lips before lying down on the floor. When he saw that I had no intention of kneeling beside him, his hand shot up and snaked around my wrist before yanking me down hard. I didn't bite back my cry of pain, knowing that it would be over sooner if he heard me scream, because he liked me hurting, liked knowing it. He lifted me up and before I could protest, impaled himself inside me and I screamed because I wasn't ready. I never was. I whimpered and tried to pull myself off him and he let me for a second before jerking me back down and I screamed as I felt myself split in two. "Harry," I whimpered and tears fell off my cheeks. "Please stop... P-please stop!"
He grunted and ignored me, just like he always did. I screamed over and over again, felt blood trickle between us, knowing it wasn't my time of the month. His breathing became labored and then I saw it. The knife was gleaming two feet away from us. I gritted my teeth and then leaned forward to press myself against him. Gritting my teeth didn't stop the scream that followed and I heard him laugh softly in my ear.
"Like that, don't you, whore?"
I sat up quickly, hoping to make the pain be a flash and not a long drawn out thing. It didn't stop my scream. And my scream of agony didn't stop my hand from stabbing onto his stomach. His look of surprise was evident and I sat there, motionless and then I whispered, "I'm sorry Harry. But I can't let you hurt me anymore. Voldemort will be alive as long as you are." And with a twist of my wrists, he was dead.
Chapters
Murder, When You Hurt, The Attorney, Would You Believe?, The Trial, Judgement, Coming Home