Watch the World Burn
Title: Watch the World Burn
Author: Vickie
Summary: He saved her from her own fate and sealed his own.
Warnings: Lemons, Violence, Minor Character Death
Rating: NC17
AN: Wonderful banner by TinkWolfe. Betaed by Meiri and brandy01
It was five months before Rabastan was trusted enough to go on a mission and he had spent that time as a prisoner of Grimmauld Place, much like Sirius had during Hermione’s fifth year. During those five months, Rabastan and Hermione grew closer, much to the chagrin of some. Molly could often be heard complaining about the relationship developing between the two; her dreams of Ron and Hermione marrying were crumbling before her eyes. Even Ron had seen the bond between the two and began dating Susan Bones, moving on. In those five months, Rabastan had informed the Order all he knew about the Death Eaters, their sympathisers and the members he knew who didn’t carry the Dark Mark. With the information he had provided, the Order had managed to put a dent in Voldemort’s army.
It was a cold December night when Rabastan was finally allowed out of Grimmauld Place. There was a Death Eater attack in a Wizarding town on the border of Wales and the Order was needed. Dumbledore had called Rabastan up for the mission, since he needed all able bodied fighters, and had teamed him with Hermione, who was the only person who truly trusted him, along with Kingsley for added insurance.
By time they had reached the small town, the Death Eaters were in full attack mode. They were throwing Unforgivables around like confetti and killing indiscriminately; the battle was brief but intense as the Order and Death Eaters exchanged curses. Rabastan engaged his former allies in battle for the first time since he had betrayed them and he didn’t hold anything back; throwing curse after curse their way, he stopped just short at using Unforgivables, though he did use many borderline Dark curses. The Death Eaters quickly realised they were outmatched and Disapparated, leaving the Order to clean up the mess. The damage was severe. The sounds of screaming and crying could be heard as the bodies of townspeople, which littered the streets outside of burning houses, were identified and wept over. The Order had not gone casualty-free; some members lay injured, the others doing there best with quick field healing before the fallen could be taken back to headquarters for better care. It was a side of the battle Rabastan had never seen before. With the battle finished, Rabastan was ordered to return to Grimmauld Place and Hermione was asked to go with him.
Things continued like that for a few more months. Rabastan was never trusted to go on a mission, but was called on when the Death Eaters attacked and the Order needed his skills. His relationship with Hermione grew stronger as the months went by, the two of them growing even closer. With nothing else to do, Rabastan began training Hermione in the finer points of duelling. Under his guidance she improved her skills, while the two of them continued to debate various topics during rare moments of downtime, eventually finding found acceptance with each other.
It was in February when they shared their first kiss. It was a normal day and nothing exciting was happening while Rabastan and Hermione spent the day in the Black family library. Hermione, as per usual, was reading, while Rabastan sat with her. Her love of books had only made her more attractive to Rabastan; he was accustomed to the company of Pureblood witches who held no higher purpose than to look pretty, stay silent and produce the required offspring. Of all such women he'd known, Bellatrix Black was the sole exception. Seeing Hermione use her intellect was a huge turn on for him and he loved to watch her read under the pretence of reading himself.
It was on one of those days that he finally acted on the attraction he held for her. He never hid his desire for her and many times she had seen the effect her being in her presence had on his body. But he had never made a move on her because they - no, he was under constant watch. But on that particular day the sight of Hermione, engrossed in her latest book, her tongue peaking out between her teeth as her fingers stroked the paper of the page she was reading, was just too much for him to handle and he could no longer stand not to touch her. He stood up quickly from his chair near the fire and walked across the room; sitting down next to Hermione, he pulled the book from her hands and dropped it to the floor before he turned to face a smiling Hermione.
“Something you want Rabastan?” she asked, biting her lip coyly.
Rabastan smirked at her but said nothing, instead slowly leaning in until his forehead rested against hers. He raised his hand and cupped her face and then he ran his thumb over her plump, inviting lips before he brushed his own softly against hers in a gentle caress, using his tongue to tease her into accepting him more fully. She parted her lips and shifted slightly, deepening the kiss. Rabastan took advantage of her parted lips and slipped his tongue into her mouth, he explored the caverns of her mouth before playfully engaging her tongue in a duel. Hermione tangled her hands in Rabastan’s hair and let him control the kiss. When their mutual need for oxygen became an issue, Rabastan broke the caress and placed a few butterfly kisses on her swollen lips before resting his forehead against hers once more.
“Merlin, witch, what are you doing to me?” he asked breathing deeply.
*~*~*
After their first kiss, Rabastan and Hermione were inseparable and soon everyone knew about, and had to voice their objections against, the change in their relationship. Not that it did the Order any good, since Hermione refused to listen. It was obvious to anyone who looked at her that she was happy and, as much as they hated it, it they could all see that Rabastan loved her.
Happiness was in short supply with the war raging worse than ever and Death Eater attacks becoming an almost daily occurrence. So, whenever the chance at a moment of happiness came along, people grabbed it with both hands. So when Harry announced that he and Luna were getting married and that they didn't want to wait too long, Sirius had decided that his godson, and the young man's fiancée, deserved nothing but the best. During the course of the next four months the Marauder had set about organising the wedding of the year, although how exactly Sirius had managed to organise the wedding in four months no one knew. Security had been an important issue and false reports were released concerning wedding arrangements and dates, then the decoys were set in place. The whole of the Order of the Phoenix and Dumbledore’s Army had been invited. No one was going to get a chance to spoil Harry and Luna’s big day.
It was a crisp December morning when Harry stood in the grove, where he'd spent many summer days playing Quidditch with the Weasleys, and waited for his bride. Only Luna would want to get married outside in the dead of winter. Harry couldn’t take his eyes off her as she made her way down the aisle, her light blue gown catching the eyes of a few people. Molly could be heard muttering about an insult to tradition but Harry paid her no attention. He only had eyes for Luna. The ceremony went without a hitch, with Harry and Luna reciting vows they had written themselves, exchanging rings and sealing the beginning of their lives as man and wife with a kiss that left more than one person teary-eyed. It was as Harry and Luna were sharing their first dance as man and wife that a huge explosion had rocked the grounds of the Lovegood home, bringing the protective wards around the property crashing down.
The Order and the DA jumped into action as Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters surrounded the property. No witty banter or clever insults were exchanged - only curses - as Dumbledore led the Light side's forces into battle, engaging Voldemort in a duel that could have been called beautiful if it wasn’t so deadly.
Wizards and witches duelled on the grounds on the Lovegood property while members of the DA tried to shield the younger children from the cross-fire of the fiercely raging battle. In the midst of the pandemonium, Harry battled his old enemy Draco Malfoy who had made some offensive comments about his bride. All the while, Luna was duelling Pansy Parkinson.
Rabastan had just defeated Yaxley when he heard Hermione cry out in pain. Spinning around, he desperately searched for her. His heart seized in his chest when he saw her lying on the cold ground convulsing in pain as the Cruciatus Curse ripped through her body. Anger swept over him when he saw who stood over her, laughing as she cried out in pain.
He ran over to them as fast as he could, his whipping a hex at the wizard torturing Hermione. Satisfaction washed over him when the slicing hex hit its mark, cutting deep into the wizard's arm, making the masked man clutch at the limb and yell from the pain.
The Death Eater took his eyes off of Hermione and spun to face the wizard who had cast the spell, a look of shock entering his eyes as he found himself staring at his younger brother's wandpoint. While he was not surprised to see the younger Lestrange there (his brother's betrayal of his kin, cause and leader was well known), Rodolphus was surprised that Rabastan would be stupid enough to face him in battle. He knew, according to the rules of the Lestrange House that, as head of the head of the family, Rabastan’s life was in his hands. The Dark Lord had ordered Rodolphus to trim the family tree, meaning that Rodolphus had been instructed to kill his brother.
“Have you lowered yourself so much, brother, that you now defend a Mudblood?” Rodolphus snarled.
“Don’t call her that,” Rabastan growled.
Rodolphus stared at his brother. “You love her,” he stated, disgust etched plainly over his features. “You betrayed us for this filth?!” He pointed to the witch lying on the ground. “Her kind are good for only one thing. Tell me, brother, have you tasted her yet, sampled all that she has to offer?”
Rabastan glared at Rodolphus but said nothing. He was trying to keep his temper in check, knowing his older brother was trying to goad him into lashing out.
“I remember how tight she was. When I buried my fingers in her cunt, the little whimpers she made were music to my ears,” Rodolphus taunted. “Have you fucked her yet? I bet her cunt feels like a vice around your cock.”
Rabastan’s anger grew hotter by the second as he listened to his brother's crude words. All the while, his eyes burned with hatred.
Rodolphus gave a cruel laugh as he looked at his only brother. “No? Won’t she spread her legs for you like a good whore? Do you need your big brother to show you how it’s done? Is that it, Rabastan? I bet the cheap whore would like my cock in her; I'd have her begging for more or, at least, she would beg for something. Don't worry, though; I’ll let you watch as I fuck her.”
Rabastan had heard enough and fired a barrage of curses at his laughing brother, anger fuelling his attack. He knew that Rodolphus was being truthful, in addition to trying to antagonise him; he knew that the other man had every intention of following through with the crude acts he described and Rabastan refused to let Hermione be treated like that.
Rodolphus was shocked at the ferocity of the attack, at first. But, all too quickly he recovered, returning the curses in equal measure and refusing to yield to his brother.
Streaks of purple, red, and green danced in the air as Rabastan and Rodolphus duelled. Curse after curse was thrown, with neither wizard willing to back down. Bodies fell around them but neither paid any attention - their sole focus was on one another. Time passed and it was clear the brothers were well-matched, fierce opponents. Years of resentment and that unfamiliar protectiveness fuelled Rabastan's every hex and countercurse. Moving swiftly, he dodged one of the vicious curses sent at him but missed the slicing hex aimed at his face.
Blood poured down Rabastan’s cheek and dripped onto his white shirt, but Rabastan ignored it. The pain was reminder of what was to come if he lost. He fired off the Cruciatus Curse at Rodolphus knowing his brother would duck out of the way. When the other man did, in fact, dodge the Unforgivable, he fired another curse at him, hitting him square in the chest.
Rodolphus cried out in pain as the curse took hold; his body was cooling rapidly as his blood began to freeze in his veins. His circulation was slowly being cut off and his skin took on a blue hue as the breath was stolen from his body. Crystals of frost covered Rodolphus body as his heart stopped beating.
Rabastan stared at his dead brother and felt no guilt for what he had just done. He felt a small hand on his shoulder and he turned into the embrace of his love, wrapping his arms around her and just holding her. As much as he wanted to lose himself in her arms, he knew that now was not the time. They were in the middle of a battle, a battle that he knew she would not run away from. Disentangling himself from her embrace, he placed a tender kiss on her forehead and prepared to rejoin the battle. He cursed anyone foolish enough to try to harm Hermione. He had just killed his own flesh and blood; he would show no mercy to anyone else.
No one could say for sure how long the battle lasted; to some it seemed to last hours and to others mere minutes. There were causalities on both sides, some of them fatal. Bellatrix had been brought down by her own cousin Sirius. Hestia Jones, Dean Thomas, and Seamus Finnegan were among the causalities on the Light side. The battle had ended when Harry had fulfilled the prophecy and struck the killing blow to Lord Voldemort.
When the Minister had arrived to take control of the situation, the Order realised that Rabastan was not safe near the battlefield, so he and Hermione Apparated back to Grimmauld Place.
For the first time in as long as she could remember, the house was quiet. Even the painting of Mrs Black was still, almost as if she knew the significations of what had happened. Hermione found the silence unnerving; moments ago, her head was filled with screams of pain and cries of grief, and the sudden silence seemed unnatural to her.
The battle hung heavy on both of them, the final battle may have been won, but they knew it was far from over. There was a long road ahead of them. The Wizarding world needed rebuilding and not in the same way it had been done after the first fall of Voldemort. The exchange of Galleons should not be an allowable sentence for crimes committed and claims of the Imperius Curse should not be accepted on blind faith.
Hermione was scared that Rabastan would be sent back to Azkaban. He may have changed sides, but a few good deeds would never be able to make up for all the devastation he had inflicted upon many people’s lives. And even though Voldemort had overruled his original sentence when he had taken control of the Ministry, there were still other crimes he could be convicted of. The image of Rabastan sitting in a dark, dank cell brought tears to Hermione’s eyes so suddenly, that she had to bite back a sob.
The sound of her distress caused Rabastan to turn and face her. He saw the tears in her eyes and held a hand out to her. Taking her hand in his, he pulled her towards him and wrapped her up in his arms. He didn’t need to ask her what was wrong; the same thoughts had been running through his mind. The thought of returning to Azkaban didn’t scare him as much as the knowledge that he would be away from her. He would fight death itself if he meant that he could stay by her side. He cupped her face in his hands and brushed away her tears. When he kissed her lips, he could taste the salty-wetness.
“What are we going to do?” Hermione asked as she stroked the stubble on his cheek.
“I do not know.”
“We could run away,” Hermione suggested. “I hear Australia is nice this time of the year.”
“You have never run away from anything in your life,” Rabastan pointed out, smiling. “And I’m not about to let you start now.”
Hermione knew he was right. As much as she would have liked to, she knew she couldn’t run away. As arrogant as it sounded, she knew she was still needed. For once she would have loved to have been selfish and tell everyone no, and leave, with Rabastan, to some place no one would find them. But that wasn’t going to happen. She knew they were both staying. Rabastan had all but told her he wouldn’t leave. His freedom meant nothing to him if he couldn’t spend it with her.
Rabastan tucked a strand of hair behind Hermione’s ear and ran his eyes over her. The signs of battle were visible on her body and the pale lemon bridesmaid dress she wore was torn and covered in mud. Blood stained her lips and bruises were beginning to form on her arms. Rabastan had the uncontrollable urge to hunt down the people who were responsible and kill them. He took her by the hand and led her through the old house until he reached the room they shared. He pulled her through the door, closing it behind them. Leading her over to the king-size bed, he sat her down at the foot of the bed, and knelt down in front of her, brushing a lock of hair out of her eyes.
“We should get you cleaned up; you are filthy,” he told her.
Hermione reached out her hand and gently ran her finger over his blood stained cheek. The cut had already been healed, but his dried blood could still be seen.
“I’m not the only one,” she replied.
Rabastan placed a kiss on the top of her head before he stood up and walked over to the small dresser beside the window, opening the top drawer and removing a vial. He handed the potion to Hermione with a smile.
Hermione accepted the much needed pain relief potion and drank it. She gagged at the vile taste, but the potion worked almost instantaneously, relieving her body of the pain that racked it. Closing her eyes, she lay back on the bed and listened as Rabastan moved around the room. She smiled as she heard him turn the shower on in their bathroom. A few minutes later, she felt Rabastan’s hands on her legs and she opened her eyes. He smirked at her as he removed her shoes and Hermione held her hands out to him and let him pull her up.
Rabastan lead Hermione into the bathroom and pulled her to him. She went willingly into his arms, resting her head on his shirt-covered chest. He ran his hands up her back, tangling his fingers in her hair and angling her face so that he could capture her lips with his. He dropped one hand to the zip of her dress and slowly lowered it, not breaking the kiss as he pushed the dress of her shoulders and let it fall to the floor.
Hermione pushed her body against his as she returned the kiss, parting her lips and allowing him entrance into her mouth. She ran her tongue over his teeth before nipping on his bottom lip, before moving her hands down his chest, flicking open the buttons of his shirt as she went. She pulled his shirt out of his trousers and pushed it off his shoulders, down his arms and then completely off.
Rabastan unclasped her bra and, sliding it down her arms, he dropped it to the floor as his hands moved to the last item of clothing she was wearing. He twisted the thin material of her white lacy knickers in his fingers and yanked it, causing Hermione to yelp as it bit into her skin. Rabastan chuckled at the sound. He pushed Hermione to the running shower as he unbuckled his belt.
Hermione stepped into the shower, moaning softly as the warm sprays of water caressed her aching body. She felt Rabastan step into the shower behind her, his arms wrapping around her waist before pulling her into him, moulding her back to his chest. He ran his hands up her body, cupping her breasts while his lips attacked her neck; sucking and nipping at the sensitive flesh. Hermione moaned at the feeling of his hands on her body and pushed her arse into his groin, a whimper escaping her lips as she felt his erection against her.
Rabastan lowered his hands to her hips and ground his erection into her arse. Reaching for the bottle of shower gel on the shelf he grabbed a hold of it and squeezed a generous amount into his hand and then dropped it onto the floor. Lathering it up, he ran his hands over Hermione’s back. He dropped to his knees behind her and washed the back of her legs before running his hands over the globes of her arse, and once he was satisfied that her back was properly lathered, he instructed her to turn around.
Hermione did so and turned to face him. She smiled at him as he ran his hands up her legs, covering them in the vanilla scented soap. A small whimper escaped her when he cleaned the inside of her thighs, which turned into a moan of disappointment when he ignored the place that was burning for his touch.
Rabastan rubbed circles on her stomach as he washed it, dreaming of the day when it would carry their child. Even so, he knew that day was a long way off, if it ever came at all. He pushed that dream to the side and raised his hands cupping her breasts and pinching her nipples, loving the sounds she made as he did. Standing, he moved Hermione so that she was placed directly under the showerhead, and watched as the water streamed over her body, washing the soapsuds off. He could see the pout of Hermione swollen lips and smirked. He had washed her everywhere, apart from where she really wanted to feel his hands.
He moved closer to her and crushed his lips to hers, pushing her against the shower wall and making her cry out in shock as the cold tiles hit her warm skin. Rabastan kissed a trail down her chin, nipping at her jaw before he moved down her neck and sucked hard on the tender flesh, marking her. He moved lower, finally sucking her harden nipples into his mouth. She cupped the back of his head and held him to her breast, and Rabastan obeyed the silent command and bit down on her nipple. He was rewarded with a cry of pleasure from the panting witch.
Rabastan suckled on her breast as he moved his hand between her thighs, running a finger over her opening, testing her. His thumb grazed her clit and when Hermione spread her legs a little further, Rabastan took advantage and pushed his finger into her wet opening. He thrust the single digit into her a few times before adding a second, all the while, rubbing circles on her throbbing clit. Dropping to his knees in front of her and, he placed a hand on her stomach and pressed down slightly, holding her in place as he thrust his fingers into her quicker, soaking up the little whimpers she was making. He replaced his thumb with his lips and sucked on the bundle of nerves.
“Oh god,” Hermione cried out. “Don’t stop.”
Rabastan thrust his fingers into her harder as he flicked her clit with his tongue, and when he twisted his fingers as he thrust them into her, Hermione cried out in pleasure. Her hands flew to his head and pushed him closer to her sex. Rabastan nibbled on her clit before taking it between his lips and sucking on it hard. Stars exploded behind Hermione’s eyes as she clenched around the fingers still thrusting into her. She threw her head back and came, letting out a low, keening cry. Her lover soon removed his fingers from the trembling witch, placing a kiss on her pulsing sex before standing up, his eyes burning with passion as he stared at her.
Recovering from her high, Hermione held out her hand in an attempt to pull Rabastan to her, but he stepped around her and turned the shower off. A flash of hurt flickered over Hermione’s face, but before she had a chance to say anything, he wrapped a towel around her naked form, lifted her up, and carried her out of the bathroom back into their bedroom. He laid her on the bed before climbing onto it himself, and leaned over the still-panting witch, placing a kiss on her lips.
“I want you in our bed, love,” he told her before pulling the towel from her body, leaving her naked once again.
Hermione ran her hands over his back, before slipping a hand between their bodies. She wrapped her hand around his cock, pumping him a few times and rubbing her thumb over the head, catching the small drops of pre-cum that were leaking out. She bought her fingers to her mouth and licked them, tasting him. She sucked one of her fingers into her mouth slowly, making him moan.
“Next time,” he promised at her silent question. “But for now, I just need to be inside you.”
Her body burnt at his words and she opened her legs wider for him, giving him all the permission he needed. He settled between her opened thighs and reached a hand between them, gripping his cock, and positioning it at her entrance. He caught her eyes and slowly pushed forward, entering her. He groaned at the feeling of her silken walls stretching around his cock, and only when he was buried deep inside her did he stop. He gritted his teeth at the feeling of her wet, warm cunt fluttering around him. It took all his willpower not to just pull back and thrust hard into her willing body.
Hermione wriggled beneath him desperately trying to get him to move. She ran her hands down his back and grabbed a hold of his arse, thrusting her hips up into his, but he refused to move.
“Rabastan,” she whined, hating how needy she sounded.
“What?” he groaned, beads of sweat running down his face as he struggled not to move.
“What are you waiting for, an invitation? Move!” she cried.
He lifted his head and smirked at her, but remained still.
“Please,” Hermione begged, her need for him growing unbearable.
“Tell me that you are mine,” he demanded.
“I’m yours,” she said. “Always and forever.”
“No one else will ever touch you like this. You are mine and mine alone.”
“Yes, yours - I don’t want anyone else,” Hermione told him. “Now, FUCK ME!”
“My pleasure, love,” Rabastan told her, pulling almost completely out of her before thrusting into her hard.
Hermione cried out in delight as Rabastan thrust into her. She wrapped her legs around his hips and held on, raking her nails down his back, leaving angry red welts along the way.
Rabastan pounded into the screaming witch beneath him, his desire for her overriding everything else. Nothing else mattered. The world outside could burn, for she was his and his alone. No one else had ever touched her, nor would they. She had given herself to him, mind, body, and soul, and he would kill anyone who tried to take her from him. He remembered Rodolphus’ words and the imprint of his hands on Hermione’s body and increased the speed of his thrusts.
Hermione threw her head back in ecstasy. Her lover was taking her harder than he had ever taken her before, and Hermione loved it. She raised her hips and met him thrust for thrust. That small ball of tension inside grew tighter and she begged for more.
Rabastan was surprised at Hermione’s reaction to the hard fucking he was giving her. He had always been gentle with her from their very first time together, when he had taken her virginity. But as he watched her thrashing around beneath him, screaming and begging for more, he realised that he didn’t have to hold back with her.
He grasped her hands in his and lifted them over her head, pinning them to the bed and raising himself up slightly, beginning to thrust even harder into her. He snapped his hips, making her body sing. And as the little ball of tension grew tighter and tighter, filthy things spilled from her lips as she begged Rabastan to make her come.
He released her hands and dug his fingers into the flesh at her hips, sliding a hand between their joined bodies and thumbing her clit. He rubbed the slippery bundle of nerves before taking it between his thumb and forefinger and pinching it hard. The ball of tension exploded with shocking force, and she let out a deafening scream, her body convulsing as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her. She collapsed to the bed in a boneless heap, faintly registering Rabastan still thrusting into her body.
The feeling of her fluttering sleeve tightening around his cock was too much for him to handle. He gripped her hips tightly and came with a hoarse shout of her name, emptying his cum into her welcoming womb. He collapsed on top of her and felt her arms go around him.
Struggling to get his breathing under control, he lifted his head and stared at her. “Did I hurt you?”
“No,” she answered, blushing. “I liked it a lot. It was nice feeling how much you wanted me.”
“You have no idea,” he replied, rolling off of her. He lay down beside her and then pulled the covers up over them before wrapping her in his arms.
They didn’t know what was going to happen. Outside, it was a new world dawning. They had a rough time ahead of them, but at that very moment, neither of them cared in the least. They would face the future tomorrow, whatever future that might be.