Dark Mark

Chapter 19


"So how's married life treating you?"

Hermione poured Harry another cup of tea, charming the sugarbowl to administer the proper number of cubes and frowning as three, not two as instructed, plopped into his cup. Harry cocked an eyebrow but said nothing.

"It's good. Well, good as can be expected, under the circumstances..."

The charmed milk pitcher sploshed nearly its entire contents into the cup, running over into the saucer and spilling across the table. Hermione sighed in exasperation.

"Sorry, it's been like that ever since we got settled in. Barty has these headaches from the procedure, and when they're particularly bad..." She grimaced as a spoon rattled annoyingly in the cup, splashing even more tea onto the tablecloth. "...like today...well, it seems to be psychic interferance of sorts."

"He's affecting your ability to do magic?"

Hermione nodded. "Sometimes. Only when the headaches are bad, mind you...he doesn't do it on purpose, it just sort of happens." She cast a worried glance toward a closed door at the far end of the adjoining hallway. "It's bad today."

Harry reached out awkwardly and placed his hand over Hermione's, giving it a little shake. "Hang in there girl, everything will sort itself out."

Hermione smiled, her sad eyes regaining their lustre. "So how did you manage to sneak out during finals week?"

Harry grinned, patting the overstuffed backpack that contained his invisibility cloak and the prized Marauder's Map. "It wasn't easy, I'll tell you that much. Snape has been patrolling doubletime for the last few days; I don't think there's a student in all of Hogwarts that isn't on the detention list right now." He scratched absently at the scar on his forehead. "I just waited, watched, and took my shot when it appeared. One Eyed Witch passageway, as usual...although it's getting more and more difficult to get past Filch in the maintenance corridor."

He was grimacing, still rubbing at the scar.

"It's bothering you, isn't it?"

Harry didn't even try to shrug it off like he usually did. "Yes. He's getting stronger every day. It's going to be soon, I know it."

Hermione's face fell, her eyes taking on a mournful, faraway look. "I always thought I'd fight alongside you." She looked at Harry. "I screwed up royally, didn't I?"

Harry wasn't sure what to say, so he didn't say anything at all...Hermione didn't need validation for her self-chastisement, he knew she was perfectly capable of raking herself over the coals properly without any help from him. Instead, he took a big gulp of the tepid, too-milky, not-quite-sweet-enough tea and scooted his chair away from the table with a scrape.

"Quidditch practice at 4 o'clock, can't be late or Madame Hooch will make me re-straw the brooms again." He flashed Hermione a quick smile and headed for the door; being in this house made him uncomfortable and he was in a hurry to escape. His old friend sitting across the table with a permanent mournful expression in her once dancing eyes, her husband sleeping in the next room...it just didn't sit well with Harry and the longer he stayed, the creepier it seemed.

Hermione stopped him at the door.

"What is it, Harry? You seem in such a rush. What's wrong, really?"

Harry shrugged, but he knew Hermione wouldn't let it go at that. He bit his lip and leaned against the doorframe, unsure of where to start.

"It's Barty, isn't it?"

He nodded. "It's just...strange, is all. Him being your, you know, husband. I can't believe Dumbledore and Fudge did that to you!" He bit off his last words viciously, shooting an angry look toward the hallway that led to the bedroom.

"I made my own bed, Harry, and now I've got to lie in it."

"Yeah, literally."

"Stop it---you know what I mean."

"But why, Hermione?? Why are they suddenly bringing back all these ancient and outdated laws and rules and forcing us to abide by them? First you and Crouch, then Angelina being coerced to marry one of the Governors because of something in her parentage, and now they're threatening to start enforcing the Pureblood Law and I'm certain it will pass since at least 99% of the Governors who will be voting on it are Purebloods." He punched the door in frustration. "This should have never happened, never!"

"Shhh, Harry, it will be alright...I don't know what's in store for any of us, but I do know one thing. If we all just stick together, we'll get through it." She put her hand reassuringly on his arm. "Like always."

Harry nodded begrudgingly, less than convinced, but he didn't want an argument with Hermione. She had enough to contend with. He kissed her lightly on the cheek and gave her a weak smile.

"Take care, Hermione. Make him treat you good."

"You too, Harry. Thank you so much for coming to see me...it means more to me than you could guess. And tell Ron..." She paused for a moment, unsure of what, if anything, she had to say to her erstwhile friend. "Well, just tell him 'hi' for me."

Harry nodded, understanding perfectly. He Accio'ed his broom and mounted it; in less than a heartbeat, he was gone.

Hermione watched the dark night sky for some time after Harry disappeared, her mind jammed with confused thoughts that kept crashing into one another, fighting for a front spot in her concentration queue. None of them were winning, and the muddled fray was giving her a headache.

She closed the door and sighed a long, heavy, soul-weary sigh, locked the deadbolt, and with a flick of her wand doused the lights. Running her hand along the wall to find her way through the darkened hall without bumping into anything, she quietly opened the bedroom door and slipped inside.

He's right, this should have never happened. Dumbledore would have never done this to me in the old days. What's happening to everyone?

"Hello, love."

Barty reached out to her in the darkness as she slipped out of her clothes and into her nightgown; he raised the duvet and wrapped his arms around her as she climbed into bed beside him, settling in against his warm body with a sigh that to her own ears sounded less contented than she was aiming for. She hoped he hadn't noticed; she snuggled up to him, warming her chilled feet on his legs, giggling girlishly when he yelped, moaning convincingly when he began seducing her with hungry kisses. His hands found her breasts beneath her gown and the sound of pleasure and longing that came from her throat this time was convincing enough, even to her own ears.

"How's your headache, darling?" she whispered breathlessly, losing herself in his increasingly urgent caresses. His reply was muffled, his mouth buried in the soft hollow between her breasts. Hermione gasped as Barty's hand snaked down her belly and located the soft, warm folds of silky flesh inside her panties; one finger slipped inside her, and she no longer cared about his headache, Harry Potter's aching scar, or Dumbledore's stupid rules.

It was a stupid rule that got her here to begin with.

And at the moment, Hermione Granger Crouch Jr didn't think that was such a bad thing after all.


---------------------------------------------------