In the Mood
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
11
Views:
7,350
Reviews:
20
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
11
Views:
7,350
Reviews:
20
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
Harry Potter is not my property and I do not gain anything by writing this story other than an emotional high.
In the Mood
Chapter One
Hermione had been slammed back against the stonewall by the curse that had been aimed at Harry. A quick movement later and she had blocked it. She had hit her head though and soon she found herself sliding down to the ground in a pile, only vaguely aware of a person walking over to her. A large rough hand touched her face before everything went black.
When she woke again, she was in a bed. Trying to move, she found that there was a restraining spell on her. Hermione looked around for her wand, but couldn’t find it within her sight. But it was when she was doing her inspection for her wand that she also found that she wasn’t in Saint Mungos either. She was in a basement of a house.
“See you’re awake at last,” a gruff voice had her looking over to the darkened doorway where the big man was standing. “What’s your name?”
“Hermione Granger,” she answered.
“And would you be a Death Eater?” he asked, sarcasm dripping from his words as if he wasn’t expecting the truth.
“I assume that you looked at my arms and would have known as much,” she said tightly. “Why the binding spell? And where is my wand?”
He stepped out of the doorway and walked into the room. With a flick of his wand the binding spell was removed. She sat up and carefully checked the back of her head along with her neck. Hermione did a total inspection of herself right down to wiggling her toes and fingers. The entire time she did so, the big man watched in silence.
“Where is my wand?” she asked him.
“Right here,” he replied. He held it out to her, but pulled it back when she reached for it. “But I have a few questions first.”
“So you’ve been asking,” she pointed out to him. “And so I’ve answered without comment or complaint so far. Now please can I have my wand?”
“Where did you come from?” he asked, ignoring her demand for her wand.
Frowning, she asked, “What do you mean?”
“You came out of no where, missy, and I want an answer…”
“First of all,” she cut him off. “Don’t you take that tone with me. Second, as for wanting an answer, you aren’t the only one. But being an ass will get us no where.” She crossed her arms over her chest, leaning back on the pillows. “Think, Hermione, think!” The events of the night started to flood her mind from dinner with Harry, Ron, and Ginny…
***
Ron was whining about Lavender again. Harry was no better as he was fighting with Ginny. And there she was alone, despite the fact that all three were trying to set her up. If they were a shining example of what it meant to be in a relationship, she was going to run from them! She excused herself, getting up to go to the loo. She had wanted to get away from the whining and sniping. It was giving her a headache.
Hermione thought vaguely of telling them that she had work back at her flat, but they wouldn’t take that as an excuse. She stood in front of the mirror, looking at herself. Make-up hadn’t been a priority when she left to meet them at dinner, but as she looked at herself she couldn’t help but to notice just how tired she looked. Hunting Death Eaters was a tiring task. But the fact that she had dark shadows so that she looked like a raccoon even she had to admit that she needed a vacation.
Ginny stormed into the loo, snapping, “Men are so dense sometimes!”
Hermione didn’t say anything, as she knew it wasn’t her place to do so. But the young woman was very demanding, which wasn’t helping her relationship with Harry in the least. Absently she put on her lip-gloss and was about to leave when the younger witch grabbed her arm.
“I know you want him,” she growled. “You can’t have him. He’s mine!”
Arching her brow, Hermione yanked her arm away from her saying, “Really, Ginerva, your jealousy is growing tiresome.” She moved to leave, but stopped and looked at her. “I understand your anger, but if you ever do that again, expect to pull back a bloody stump.” Ginny was gasping in outrage as Hermione walked back to the table.
She stopped at the table. “I have to go. Goodnight.” She kissed them both goodbye, rushing out the door of the Three Broomsticks into the night air.
Harry ended up joining her on the walk. “Did Ginny threaten you?” he asked her.
“She spouted off the usual bullocks,” she told him. “But I’m tired, Harry, and I…well, I told her if she grabbed me again like that, she was going to pull back a bloody stump.”
He sighed heavily. “She’s been getting worse and worse. I don’t know what to say or even if I can say anything right!”
“Harry, she’s jealous. The one you should talk with is her,” she told him. “If you don’t want this relationship to last, then breakup with her. If you do want her, for Merlin sake, Harry, go speak with her and work at it! Relationships don’t fix themselves and it’s asinine for you to think otherwise.”
“Maybe I should just break it off,” he muttered, making her roll her eyes.
“I knew it!” Ginny screamed at them. “I told you…”
“Yes, I know,” Hermione said, sounding bored. “He’s yours. Harry was only walking me over to the apperation point, Ginny. What with the random attacks still going on by rogue Death Eaters it just pays to be on the safe side.”
Rodolphus LeStrange stepped out of a nearby store, slipping up next to Ginny, who was now holding her wand.
“I told you, Harry,” Ginny said. “I always win!”
“Are you mad? He’s a Death Eater!” Harry screamed.
“He’s a means to an end!” she shouted back at him.
Having had enough of the melodrama and being used, LeStrange hit Ginny with the killing curse. He turned to hit Harry, but Hermione had jumped right in front of him and had been thrown hard backwards, knocking herself out…
***
The only question that kept going through her head over and over again was why wasn’t she dead? She had been hit with a killing curse, wasn’t she? If she wasn’t dead, where was she? Hermione got up and began to pace.
“Okay, so I was hit with a curse,” she said out loud. “I don’t remember what curse, but I’m fairly positive it might not have been a killing curse.” She paused. “What could have kept a killing curse or any other from working?”
“If it hits a magical object, it could trigger it into working.” She looked over to the man, who went on talking. “It would depend on how strong the curse is.”
She let out an oath and pulled the time turner out of underneath her shirt, looking at the small hourglass at work.
“Oh shit,” she breathed, sitting down hard.
“Is that what I think it is?” he asked her.
She nodded. “I have a question.”
“Go right ahead.”
She swallowed thickly. “What year is it?”
He smiled for the first time. “It’s 1943, missy.”
And who are you?”
“Alastor Moody,” he introduced himself.
The witch blinked at him in shock for a full minute before flopping back on the bed and staring straight at the ceiling. Oh Merlin, she thought, this wasn’t going to turn out well at all.
Hermione had been slammed back against the stonewall by the curse that had been aimed at Harry. A quick movement later and she had blocked it. She had hit her head though and soon she found herself sliding down to the ground in a pile, only vaguely aware of a person walking over to her. A large rough hand touched her face before everything went black.
When she woke again, she was in a bed. Trying to move, she found that there was a restraining spell on her. Hermione looked around for her wand, but couldn’t find it within her sight. But it was when she was doing her inspection for her wand that she also found that she wasn’t in Saint Mungos either. She was in a basement of a house.
“See you’re awake at last,” a gruff voice had her looking over to the darkened doorway where the big man was standing. “What’s your name?”
“Hermione Granger,” she answered.
“And would you be a Death Eater?” he asked, sarcasm dripping from his words as if he wasn’t expecting the truth.
“I assume that you looked at my arms and would have known as much,” she said tightly. “Why the binding spell? And where is my wand?”
He stepped out of the doorway and walked into the room. With a flick of his wand the binding spell was removed. She sat up and carefully checked the back of her head along with her neck. Hermione did a total inspection of herself right down to wiggling her toes and fingers. The entire time she did so, the big man watched in silence.
“Where is my wand?” she asked him.
“Right here,” he replied. He held it out to her, but pulled it back when she reached for it. “But I have a few questions first.”
“So you’ve been asking,” she pointed out to him. “And so I’ve answered without comment or complaint so far. Now please can I have my wand?”
“Where did you come from?” he asked, ignoring her demand for her wand.
Frowning, she asked, “What do you mean?”
“You came out of no where, missy, and I want an answer…”
“First of all,” she cut him off. “Don’t you take that tone with me. Second, as for wanting an answer, you aren’t the only one. But being an ass will get us no where.” She crossed her arms over her chest, leaning back on the pillows. “Think, Hermione, think!” The events of the night started to flood her mind from dinner with Harry, Ron, and Ginny…
***
Ron was whining about Lavender again. Harry was no better as he was fighting with Ginny. And there she was alone, despite the fact that all three were trying to set her up. If they were a shining example of what it meant to be in a relationship, she was going to run from them! She excused herself, getting up to go to the loo. She had wanted to get away from the whining and sniping. It was giving her a headache.
Hermione thought vaguely of telling them that she had work back at her flat, but they wouldn’t take that as an excuse. She stood in front of the mirror, looking at herself. Make-up hadn’t been a priority when she left to meet them at dinner, but as she looked at herself she couldn’t help but to notice just how tired she looked. Hunting Death Eaters was a tiring task. But the fact that she had dark shadows so that she looked like a raccoon even she had to admit that she needed a vacation.
Ginny stormed into the loo, snapping, “Men are so dense sometimes!”
Hermione didn’t say anything, as she knew it wasn’t her place to do so. But the young woman was very demanding, which wasn’t helping her relationship with Harry in the least. Absently she put on her lip-gloss and was about to leave when the younger witch grabbed her arm.
“I know you want him,” she growled. “You can’t have him. He’s mine!”
Arching her brow, Hermione yanked her arm away from her saying, “Really, Ginerva, your jealousy is growing tiresome.” She moved to leave, but stopped and looked at her. “I understand your anger, but if you ever do that again, expect to pull back a bloody stump.” Ginny was gasping in outrage as Hermione walked back to the table.
She stopped at the table. “I have to go. Goodnight.” She kissed them both goodbye, rushing out the door of the Three Broomsticks into the night air.
Harry ended up joining her on the walk. “Did Ginny threaten you?” he asked her.
“She spouted off the usual bullocks,” she told him. “But I’m tired, Harry, and I…well, I told her if she grabbed me again like that, she was going to pull back a bloody stump.”
He sighed heavily. “She’s been getting worse and worse. I don’t know what to say or even if I can say anything right!”
“Harry, she’s jealous. The one you should talk with is her,” she told him. “If you don’t want this relationship to last, then breakup with her. If you do want her, for Merlin sake, Harry, go speak with her and work at it! Relationships don’t fix themselves and it’s asinine for you to think otherwise.”
“Maybe I should just break it off,” he muttered, making her roll her eyes.
“I knew it!” Ginny screamed at them. “I told you…”
“Yes, I know,” Hermione said, sounding bored. “He’s yours. Harry was only walking me over to the apperation point, Ginny. What with the random attacks still going on by rogue Death Eaters it just pays to be on the safe side.”
Rodolphus LeStrange stepped out of a nearby store, slipping up next to Ginny, who was now holding her wand.
“I told you, Harry,” Ginny said. “I always win!”
“Are you mad? He’s a Death Eater!” Harry screamed.
“He’s a means to an end!” she shouted back at him.
Having had enough of the melodrama and being used, LeStrange hit Ginny with the killing curse. He turned to hit Harry, but Hermione had jumped right in front of him and had been thrown hard backwards, knocking herself out…
***
The only question that kept going through her head over and over again was why wasn’t she dead? She had been hit with a killing curse, wasn’t she? If she wasn’t dead, where was she? Hermione got up and began to pace.
“Okay, so I was hit with a curse,” she said out loud. “I don’t remember what curse, but I’m fairly positive it might not have been a killing curse.” She paused. “What could have kept a killing curse or any other from working?”
“If it hits a magical object, it could trigger it into working.” She looked over to the man, who went on talking. “It would depend on how strong the curse is.”
She let out an oath and pulled the time turner out of underneath her shirt, looking at the small hourglass at work.
“Oh shit,” she breathed, sitting down hard.
“Is that what I think it is?” he asked her.
She nodded. “I have a question.”
“Go right ahead.”
She swallowed thickly. “What year is it?”
He smiled for the first time. “It’s 1943, missy.”
And who are you?”
“Alastor Moody,” he introduced himself.
The witch blinked at him in shock for a full minute before flopping back on the bed and staring straight at the ceiling. Oh Merlin, she thought, this wasn’t going to turn out well at all.