FIC: A Change, But Not For The Better [Harry/Hermione - NC-17]
Author: Anonymous
Title: A Change, But Not For The Better
Characters/Pairings: Harry/Hermione
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Non-graphic scene of torture & murder
Word Count: 1,978
Prompt: Dark!Harry/Hermione, Dark!Harry/Draco, Dark!Harry/Severus. Harry has a darkness creeping through him, corrupting everything within him. It has been there since the war, and is growing so large it threatens to swallow him whole, and take the Wizarding World with him. Will his lover be able to save him from this shadow consuming, or will they be dragged down along with the most powerful wizard of the age? Bonus Points: crying, struggling against the darkness, pleading/begging (but nothing pathetic). (by csi_vixen)
Notes: Thanks to my beta for the quick read! And thanks to csi_vixen for the great prompt. I’m not sure it’s really what you wanted, but I hope it’s okay anyway.
“Harry! Please!” Hermione stretched out a hand to touch him, but Harry shrugged her off.
“Hermione. Don’t.”
“No. Harry. I don’t want you to go. Please don’t do this!”
“It’s my job.”
“This isn’t your job!” Hermione felt her eyes fill with tears. “Please don’t go. You’re going to get yourself killed.”
Harry just shrugged, not even bothering to look at her. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It doesn’t matter? It does matter! It matters a lot!”
“To who?”
“To me!” Hermione felt the tears break loose and drip down her cheeks. “To me, and to your daughter!”
She dropped her eyes to the floor.
“Don’t you care?” She added in a whisper.
Harry just shrugged and picked up his wand. “Whatever,” he said.
And then he was gone, off again on another suicidal mission.
*****
This wasn’t how things were supposed to go at all. That night in the forest, when she had taken his hand and he had kissed her, she had seen their future - and it was happy and full of love, children they adored, jobs they were amazing at.
And when Voldermort had fallen and the Wizarding World had celebrated, she had been elated. Harry was their hero, and he wanted her. Nothing could bring the two of them down, or so she had thought. Not the glares of former Death Eaters or the disapproval on the faces of some of the Weasleys. Not even the hurt in Ron’s eyes. And when all those things lessened a little, and she and Harry were mostly accepted as one, she saw again their beautiful, perfect future stretched out in front of her.
Their wedding was the most talked about event of the year, maybe even the decade. The baby eleven months later couldn’t have been more beautiful.
She wondered now if she had missed the signs back then, if they had always been there and she had just been too blind to see them. But how could she not have seen them? How could she not have seen that the man she loved more than life itself was changing before her very eyes? Withdrawing into himself, turning hard and cold, unloving and uncaring.
These Auror missions were the new thing. Always taking the most dangerous mission, always putting himself into the most dangerous path with the most dangerous of wizards.
She wished she could understand it, but every time she tried to broach the subject, he pushed her away, refused to discuss it.
It was his job, he told her time and time again.
She wondered if he secretly wanted to die.
Maybe he did.
Maybe defeating Voldermort, gaining back the trust and respect of the Wizarding World, getting her was not enough. Maybe he needed something more. Or maybe it was all just too much. Maybe something had happened that he had never told her.
She had once thought he had told her everything. She knew now she had thought wrong.
But as Hermione held their baby daughter in her arms and rocked nervously on the balls of her feet, she knew she couldn’t stand around doing nothing anymore. This situation was not going to get better on its own. She had to take action.
But this … this was the scariest thing she had ever done.
She held her breath as the door opened slowly, biting her lip until Ron came fully into view.
“I need your help,” she blurted out. “Please listen to me! Harry needs your help!”
She thought he might slam the door in her face, but he surprised her. He listened, he nodded, he grabbed her hand briefly and squeezed. He took the baby when she held her out and gave her a smile.
“If anyone can save him, you can. I believe in you, Hermione.”
*****
With Ron’s help, she found the location Harry would be at. Praying to Dumbledore, James and Lily that she could do this, she fastened her cloak, gripped her wand and Apparated.
What she saw made her gasp for air.
Harry, standing over a man writhing painfully on the ground, a man who was crying out in a horrible wailing tone that pierced the ears, his arms and legs twitching uncontrollably. And still, Harry didn’t move, just kept his wand pointed and the Cruciatus Curse going, the look on his face impassive and uncaring.
“Harry! Stop!” Hermione couldn’t help herself. She lunged forward, grabbing her husband’s arm and yanking it back, knocking the wand from his hand and forcibly breaking the curse.
Harry started, whirled around, his other hand raised to strike.
He swung at her and stopped, a few inches from her face. She stared at him in horror. He stared at her in disbelief.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?” he roared.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” she screamed back.
“YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HERE!”
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”
“GET OUT OF HERE!”
“NO!”
“GET OUT OF HERE!”
“NO!”
“GET OUT OF HERE NOW!”
“NO!”
“GET. OUT. OF. HERE.”
“NOOOO!”
He lunged for her. She moved to the side and yanked her wand out and pointed it straight at his chest.
“You wouldn’t,” he said coldly.
“I would,” she answered, trying not to let her voice waver.
“No, you wouldn’t,” he said. “You aren’t that type of person.”
“You aren’t that type of person.” This time her voice did break, but she kept her eyes focused on his face.
“You don’t know me. I am that person.”
“You’re wrong. I do know you. I know the real you. You are not this person. You are not this man. I do know you. The real you.”
“You don’t.”
“But I do.”
Harry’s stance was still rigid. Hermione didn’t drop her gaze or her arm. Both were silent, staring at each other, eyes searching each other, a silent quest to prove the other one wrong.
“Get out of here,” he whispered, adding, “Please.”
“I am not going anywhere without you.”
“You have to go. You have to get away from me.”
“I am not leaving.”
“You need to go!” He raised his voice.
“No!” She stomped her foot.
“You need to go!” He was yelling now.
“No!”
“YOU NEED TO GO!”
“NO!”
“YOU NEED TO GO!”
“I WILL NOT GO WITHOUT YOU!”
Harry’s eyes darted to the man now lying unconscious on the ground, then back to his wife.
“You need to go,” he whispered.
“I am not going to leave you.” Hermione lowered her voice as well, but her tone was firm.
“I need you to leave me.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Why would you hurt me?”
“Because I’m not okay!” The words burst from Harry’s mouth, and his eyes widened, as though they surprised even him.
“Harry.” Hermione finally lowered her wand, stepping closer to him. She reached out a hand, but Harry took a step away from her. “I can help you!” she said softly.
She stepped forward again, stretching her hand out further. He stepped back. She stepped closer. He stepped back again.
“Hermione,” he warned.
“I told you I’m not leaving. I want to help you.”
“I don’t want your help. I want you to leave.”
“You know I never listen to you.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do know that.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do know that.”
“You don’t.”
“I do.” And before Harry could make a move, Hermione leapt forward, capturing his face between her hands, her soft skin caressing the hardened flesh of his face, her eyes peering directly into his.
“I do know that,” she whispered. “Because I know you. Because I love you. Because I have always loved you. The good and the bad. The ugly and the beautiful. You are my world, Harry Potter, and I am not leaving this place without you, no matter what.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, his tone raspy, trying to twist out of her grasp. “I am a bad person.”
“No, you’re not.” Her hand caressed his check. “You are a wonderful person.”
Harry finally tore his head away from her hands, staring toward the man on the ground. “Look what I did,” he choked out. “Look at that.” He pointed a shaking finger toward the motionless figure. “That is not something a good man would do.”
Hermione’s hands found his face again. “Look at me, Harry Potter. Look at me.”
Harry kept his face turned. He closed his eyes.
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.”
“I don’t want you to see me like this.”
“This isn’t you. I can help you.”
“I’m beyond help.”
“No. You’re not. Not at all.”
He took a deep breath.
“What if I am just like him?”
Hermione didn’t have to ask for an explanation. “You are nothing like him,” she said without hesitating.
“But I am.” Harry’s eyes hardened. “I hurt people. Innocent people. For no other reason than because I want to.” He laughed, a laugh so cold and mirthless, Hermione felt chills. But she kept her features unmoving.
“I am exactly like him,” Harry said.
“No,” Hermione insisted. “You aren’t.”
“I am.”
She tried another tactic.
“Okay, maybe you are. Prove it to me.”
Harry blinked. “What?”
Hermione shrugged. “You think you’re like him? Then prove it.”
“How?”
“Simple.” Hermione strode purposely across the floor to where Harry’s wand lay after she’d ripped it from his hand. She picked it up and walked it over to him.
“Here.”
Harry stared at her in confusion. Hermione pointed to the man on the floor.
“Kill him.”
“What?”
“Kill him,” she repeated. “He would. He’d do it. Right here, right now. In front of me. He’d do it.”
Harry’s eyes narrowed. “And if I do it?”
Hermione kept her gaze on him and her voice even. “Then I’ll know you’re telling the truth. That you are like him. And I will leave. I will take Aurora and I will leave. And you can do whatever you want in return.”
“You’ll regret this.”
“Maybe I will.” She nodded in the direction of the man. “Go do it.”
“Fine,” Harry snarled. “I will.”
Harry walked over to the man on the ground, his stride purposeful. He held his wand aloft, pointed toward his target.
Hermione watched her husband intently, seeing the anger reflected in the tension of his shoulders, his own self-loathing reflected in his posture. She could feel her heart thumping painfully in her chest as Harry lowered his wand to point directly between the man’s eyes.
She saw him pause.
“Go on,” she said.
His whole body stiffened slightly. “Avada,” he grunted. “Ked …”
He paused. Hermione waited. She could almost see the battle he was waging.
“Harry,” she started, her voice gentle.
That was enough.
“Avada kedavra!”
The blast of light shot out from his wand, aiming directly at the man. It seemed to happen in slow motion, the man’s body arcing a little and then falling back into place.
Hermione cried out, her hands flying to her mouth.
Harry dropped his wand, horror etched all over his face.
“No!” He cried out. “What did I do?”
He fell to his knees, doubling over, retching.
Hermione ran to him. He was trembling, silent tears falling. He looked at his wife, agony etched across his face.
“What did I do?” he cried again.
She pulled him into his arms. He grabbed her, clung to her, like she was his last lifeline.
“What did I do?” he whispered. “What did I do? What did I do? What did I do?”
She shook her head. “It’ll be okay,” she found herself saying over and over. “It’ll be okay. It’ll be okay.”
But as the words left her lips, she knew it was the first real lie she had spoken all day. Because this? This was never going to be okay.
Title: A Change, But Not For The Better
Characters/Pairings: Harry/Hermione
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Non-graphic scene of torture & murder
Word Count: 1,978
Prompt: Dark!Harry/Hermione, Dark!Harry/Draco, Dark!Harry/Severus. Harry has a darkness creeping through him, corrupting everything within him. It has been there since the war, and is growing so large it threatens to swallow him whole, and take the Wizarding World with him. Will his lover be able to save him from this shadow consuming, or will they be dragged down along with the most powerful wizard of the age? Bonus Points: crying, struggling against the darkness, pleading/begging (but nothing pathetic). (by csi_vixen)
Notes: Thanks to my beta for the quick read! And thanks to csi_vixen for the great prompt. I’m not sure it’s really what you wanted, but I hope it’s okay anyway.
“Harry! Please!” Hermione stretched out a hand to touch him, but Harry shrugged her off.
“Hermione. Don’t.”
“No. Harry. I don’t want you to go. Please don’t do this!”
“It’s my job.”
“This isn’t your job!” Hermione felt her eyes fill with tears. “Please don’t go. You’re going to get yourself killed.”
Harry just shrugged, not even bothering to look at her. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It doesn’t matter? It does matter! It matters a lot!”
“To who?”
“To me!” Hermione felt the tears break loose and drip down her cheeks. “To me, and to your daughter!”
She dropped her eyes to the floor.
“Don’t you care?” She added in a whisper.
Harry just shrugged and picked up his wand. “Whatever,” he said.
And then he was gone, off again on another suicidal mission.
*****
This wasn’t how things were supposed to go at all. That night in the forest, when she had taken his hand and he had kissed her, she had seen their future - and it was happy and full of love, children they adored, jobs they were amazing at.
And when Voldermort had fallen and the Wizarding World had celebrated, she had been elated. Harry was their hero, and he wanted her. Nothing could bring the two of them down, or so she had thought. Not the glares of former Death Eaters or the disapproval on the faces of some of the Weasleys. Not even the hurt in Ron’s eyes. And when all those things lessened a little, and she and Harry were mostly accepted as one, she saw again their beautiful, perfect future stretched out in front of her.
Their wedding was the most talked about event of the year, maybe even the decade. The baby eleven months later couldn’t have been more beautiful.
She wondered now if she had missed the signs back then, if they had always been there and she had just been too blind to see them. But how could she not have seen them? How could she not have seen that the man she loved more than life itself was changing before her very eyes? Withdrawing into himself, turning hard and cold, unloving and uncaring.
These Auror missions were the new thing. Always taking the most dangerous mission, always putting himself into the most dangerous path with the most dangerous of wizards.
She wished she could understand it, but every time she tried to broach the subject, he pushed her away, refused to discuss it.
It was his job, he told her time and time again.
She wondered if he secretly wanted to die.
Maybe he did.
Maybe defeating Voldermort, gaining back the trust and respect of the Wizarding World, getting her was not enough. Maybe he needed something more. Or maybe it was all just too much. Maybe something had happened that he had never told her.
She had once thought he had told her everything. She knew now she had thought wrong.
But as Hermione held their baby daughter in her arms and rocked nervously on the balls of her feet, she knew she couldn’t stand around doing nothing anymore. This situation was not going to get better on its own. She had to take action.
But this … this was the scariest thing she had ever done.
She held her breath as the door opened slowly, biting her lip until Ron came fully into view.
“I need your help,” she blurted out. “Please listen to me! Harry needs your help!”
She thought he might slam the door in her face, but he surprised her. He listened, he nodded, he grabbed her hand briefly and squeezed. He took the baby when she held her out and gave her a smile.
“If anyone can save him, you can. I believe in you, Hermione.”
*****
With Ron’s help, she found the location Harry would be at. Praying to Dumbledore, James and Lily that she could do this, she fastened her cloak, gripped her wand and Apparated.
What she saw made her gasp for air.
Harry, standing over a man writhing painfully on the ground, a man who was crying out in a horrible wailing tone that pierced the ears, his arms and legs twitching uncontrollably. And still, Harry didn’t move, just kept his wand pointed and the Cruciatus Curse going, the look on his face impassive and uncaring.
“Harry! Stop!” Hermione couldn’t help herself. She lunged forward, grabbing her husband’s arm and yanking it back, knocking the wand from his hand and forcibly breaking the curse.
Harry started, whirled around, his other hand raised to strike.
He swung at her and stopped, a few inches from her face. She stared at him in horror. He stared at her in disbelief.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?” he roared.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” she screamed back.
“YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HERE!”
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”
“GET OUT OF HERE!”
“NO!”
“GET OUT OF HERE!”
“NO!”
“GET OUT OF HERE NOW!”
“NO!”
“GET. OUT. OF. HERE.”
“NOOOO!”
He lunged for her. She moved to the side and yanked her wand out and pointed it straight at his chest.
“You wouldn’t,” he said coldly.
“I would,” she answered, trying not to let her voice waver.
“No, you wouldn’t,” he said. “You aren’t that type of person.”
“You aren’t that type of person.” This time her voice did break, but she kept her eyes focused on his face.
“You don’t know me. I am that person.”
“You’re wrong. I do know you. I know the real you. You are not this person. You are not this man. I do know you. The real you.”
“You don’t.”
“But I do.”
Harry’s stance was still rigid. Hermione didn’t drop her gaze or her arm. Both were silent, staring at each other, eyes searching each other, a silent quest to prove the other one wrong.
“Get out of here,” he whispered, adding, “Please.”
“I am not going anywhere without you.”
“You have to go. You have to get away from me.”
“I am not leaving.”
“You need to go!” He raised his voice.
“No!” She stomped her foot.
“You need to go!” He was yelling now.
“No!”
“YOU NEED TO GO!”
“NO!”
“YOU NEED TO GO!”
“I WILL NOT GO WITHOUT YOU!”
Harry’s eyes darted to the man now lying unconscious on the ground, then back to his wife.
“You need to go,” he whispered.
“I am not going to leave you.” Hermione lowered her voice as well, but her tone was firm.
“I need you to leave me.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Why would you hurt me?”
“Because I’m not okay!” The words burst from Harry’s mouth, and his eyes widened, as though they surprised even him.
“Harry.” Hermione finally lowered her wand, stepping closer to him. She reached out a hand, but Harry took a step away from her. “I can help you!” she said softly.
She stepped forward again, stretching her hand out further. He stepped back. She stepped closer. He stepped back again.
“Hermione,” he warned.
“I told you I’m not leaving. I want to help you.”
“I don’t want your help. I want you to leave.”
“You know I never listen to you.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do know that.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do know that.”
“You don’t.”
“I do.” And before Harry could make a move, Hermione leapt forward, capturing his face between her hands, her soft skin caressing the hardened flesh of his face, her eyes peering directly into his.
“I do know that,” she whispered. “Because I know you. Because I love you. Because I have always loved you. The good and the bad. The ugly and the beautiful. You are my world, Harry Potter, and I am not leaving this place without you, no matter what.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, his tone raspy, trying to twist out of her grasp. “I am a bad person.”
“No, you’re not.” Her hand caressed his check. “You are a wonderful person.”
Harry finally tore his head away from her hands, staring toward the man on the ground. “Look what I did,” he choked out. “Look at that.” He pointed a shaking finger toward the motionless figure. “That is not something a good man would do.”
Hermione’s hands found his face again. “Look at me, Harry Potter. Look at me.”
Harry kept his face turned. He closed his eyes.
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.”
“I don’t want you to see me like this.”
“This isn’t you. I can help you.”
“I’m beyond help.”
“No. You’re not. Not at all.”
He took a deep breath.
“What if I am just like him?”
Hermione didn’t have to ask for an explanation. “You are nothing like him,” she said without hesitating.
“But I am.” Harry’s eyes hardened. “I hurt people. Innocent people. For no other reason than because I want to.” He laughed, a laugh so cold and mirthless, Hermione felt chills. But she kept her features unmoving.
“I am exactly like him,” Harry said.
“No,” Hermione insisted. “You aren’t.”
“I am.”
She tried another tactic.
“Okay, maybe you are. Prove it to me.”
Harry blinked. “What?”
Hermione shrugged. “You think you’re like him? Then prove it.”
“How?”
“Simple.” Hermione strode purposely across the floor to where Harry’s wand lay after she’d ripped it from his hand. She picked it up and walked it over to him.
“Here.”
Harry stared at her in confusion. Hermione pointed to the man on the floor.
“Kill him.”
“What?”
“Kill him,” she repeated. “He would. He’d do it. Right here, right now. In front of me. He’d do it.”
Harry’s eyes narrowed. “And if I do it?”
Hermione kept her gaze on him and her voice even. “Then I’ll know you’re telling the truth. That you are like him. And I will leave. I will take Aurora and I will leave. And you can do whatever you want in return.”
“You’ll regret this.”
“Maybe I will.” She nodded in the direction of the man. “Go do it.”
“Fine,” Harry snarled. “I will.”
Harry walked over to the man on the ground, his stride purposeful. He held his wand aloft, pointed toward his target.
Hermione watched her husband intently, seeing the anger reflected in the tension of his shoulders, his own self-loathing reflected in his posture. She could feel her heart thumping painfully in her chest as Harry lowered his wand to point directly between the man’s eyes.
She saw him pause.
“Go on,” she said.
His whole body stiffened slightly. “Avada,” he grunted. “Ked …”
He paused. Hermione waited. She could almost see the battle he was waging.
“Harry,” she started, her voice gentle.
That was enough.
“Avada kedavra!”
The blast of light shot out from his wand, aiming directly at the man. It seemed to happen in slow motion, the man’s body arcing a little and then falling back into place.
Hermione cried out, her hands flying to her mouth.
Harry dropped his wand, horror etched all over his face.
“No!” He cried out. “What did I do?”
He fell to his knees, doubling over, retching.
Hermione ran to him. He was trembling, silent tears falling. He looked at his wife, agony etched across his face.
“What did I do?” he cried again.
She pulled him into his arms. He grabbed her, clung to her, like she was his last lifeline.
“What did I do?” he whispered. “What did I do? What did I do? What did I do?”
She shook her head. “It’ll be okay,” she found herself saying over and over. “It’ll be okay. It’ll be okay.”
But as the words left her lips, she knew it was the first real lie she had spoken all day. Because this? This was never going to be okay.