But I Won't Do That

Hermione traced Ginny’s path from the Gryffindor common room to the Room of Requirement the following night. She was embarrassed and slightly ashamed to find herself looking forward to taking Ron’s place; but she enjoyed being needed, and Harry had been a good friend to her for a long time. Plus, she had to admit (although she’d never say so aloud) that she greatly enjoyed having sex with Harry as well. It made her feel guilty, since she knew she also had much greater feelings for Ron, and yet she’d given Harry her virginity…she tried not to think about it too much.
When she slipped through the door, Ron was getting dressed haphazardly – Harry was awake, sitting up with his back to Ron. Ron stood up to pull up his trousers, and his firm rear was visible for a moment. Hermione blushed slightly – she was destined to be one of those people who always blushed about those things, despite having seen this same scenario many times before. Ron’s jerky movements showed he was holding back his formidable temper. Hermione pulled off the Invisibility Cloak. “Ron?” she said quietly. “Is something wrong?”

Ron and Harry both looked over at her, but Harry dropped his eyes again quickly. “Ask this prat,” Ron snarled, snatching up his bag and storming past her. “He’s been a bloody tosser all night!” Ron snatched the Cloak from Hermione’s hand and left the room, slamming the door behind him.

Hermione’s surprise was quickly replaced with anger. Ron knew how poorly Harry had been – he was just being insensitive. Dismissing Ron from her mind, Hermione walked to the bed and dropped her things beside it, and climbed up behind Harry. She slipped her arms around his chest, her breasts pressing against his back, and he stiffened at her touch. “Have you had a rough night, Harry?” she asked, and immediately cursed herself for asking something so stupid.

“Ron just doesn’t get it,” Harry muttered. “None of you do.”

“That’s not true, Harry,” Hermione insisted. “We understand, really we do. Ron’s just absolutely horrible at dealing with emotion. He always has been, you know that.” Harry answered with a snort, and Hermione felt the need to continue. “Don’t worry about Ron, Harry. He’s just worried about you, like we all are.”

Harry shrugged Hermione’s arms away. “Everyone worries about me. Or pities me. Hermione, everyone expects something of me, and none of it’s what I want. And I’m always being watched, by the whole damn world.”

Hermione knew better than to respond directly; there was nothing she could do about it, and it would just set Harry off. “No one’s watching now, Harry, it’s just the two of us. Is- is there anything you’d like?” Hermione sat back on her knees and began unbuttoning her blouse. “If you want, I can…do all the work…” She blushed again, deeply embarrassed at her own anxiousness.

Harry turned around, and saw what she was doing. “Stop that!” he squawked, pulling her hands away from the buttons. “Don’t you have any shame? You’re supposed to be the rational, logical one!”

“What?” Hermione shook her head. Her blouse was open halfway past her breasts, exposing a good bit of skin, and she fought the feeling that she was being inappropriately wanton. “It’s not like we haven’t done it before,” she said huffily, her cheeks coloring.

“Yeah, and you don’t think that’s weird?” Harry retorted. “That six of you all shag me whenever I toss my head, and it’s just okay with you?”

Hermione stared at Harry’s angry expression. He hadn’t shown so much backbone is over a year! She wondered vaguely if he’d been like this with Ron – it would certainly explain Ron’s reaction. “I thought you enjoyed it- I thought you…”

“Needed it?” Harry interrupted sourly. “I did, ‘mione, but I don’t any more.”

“Harry…Harry, you’re not better,” Hermione said, trying to get a grasp on the situation. Harry had never not wanted to before; it was him who usually initiated. “You do still need us, and we’ll give you anything you need.”

“Of course you will,” Harry snapped. “You don’t have a choice, do you?”

“Of course we have a choice!” Hermione said hotly. “Harry, we all chose to help you through this, because we’re your friends!”

“See, this is what I mean!” Harry yelled; angry tears were tracing his cheeks. “None of you understand, I made you do this! If you even knew what I’d done, you wouldn’t be able to think of names bad enough to call me! You’d never speak to me again!”

“That’s absurd!” Hermione replied furiously, letting her frustration get the better of her. “You didn’t make us do anything!”

Harry squeezed his eyes tightly shut. A few tears slipped out; for a long, agonizing moment, he and Hermione were utterly silent. “I did make you do this, ‘mione,” Harry finally said. “I needed you so badly…” he opened his eyes and met Hermione’s. “I was so messed up, I couldn’t think straight. How could I take on Voldemort like that?”

“No one expected you to, Harry.”

“But they did, Hermione,” Harry whispered. “I have to fight him. And I couldn’t do it how I was. And everyone wanted to help, but nobody- nobody was giving me what I needed.” he averted his eyes. “So I took it.”

“Harry, we gave what we’ve offered you freely,” Hermione answered.

“No you didn’t!” Harry bellowed, making Hermione start. “None of you did! I’ll show you what you did!” Harry leapt off the bed and tore through his schoolbag. Hermione watched in shock as belongings flew everywhere. In an instant Harry stood up, holding something, and thrust it in front of Hermione’s stunned face. “This is what made you do it!”

It was a small round amulet, about four inches across, made of glass. The surface was smooth, but there was something inside; when Hermione realized what Harry was saying the pendant was, her heart grew cold with fear. “I-is that-”

“A love charm,” Harry said, his voice empty and desolate. “I needed more than I was getting, so I made a love charm. I put hairs in there from all of you – you, Ron, Ginny, Luna and Neville and even Draco, and I put my own damn hair in the center and I bound you all to me, so you’d have no choice but to give me anything I needed! I forced you to help me, I forced you to love me, I even forced you all to fuck me!” Harry was sobbing. “Do you g-get it now? Do you see what I d-did?”

“No,” Hermione whispered, shaking her head frantically. “No…no, Harry, what I feel for you is real! You wouldn’t do something so horrible, you’re a good person, it-it’s why we love you so much! You couldn’t have d-done that…”

“No?” Harry asked, dropping his eyes again. “I wish you were right, Hermione…I really wish I deserved that trust. But I guess you don’t know me as well as you thought you did.”

“Harry, this is ridiculous,” Hermione said quickly, resorting to her magical knowledge. “Love Charms don’t even work that way, they’re only designed to link two people…”

“So what? I’m a gifted wizard, that’s what Dumbledore said, remember? I altered a Charm to work the way I wanted. It was easy,” Harry concluded bitterly. “I’ve gotten what I needed from you now…I’ve got enough confidence to defeat Voldemort. So your hating me for what I did won’t matter – I’ll be able to keep you safe, and that’s all I care about now.”

“No.” Hermione slipped off the bed and stood in front of Harry; he was almost a foot taller than her, but she stared him down. “Harry, I don’t know why you’re making up this story…maybe you’re trying to drive us away, or something equally inane, but I do not and will not believe you. You may be a powerful wizard, but no Charm is strong enough to create these feelings. I love you, Harry. We love you. Nothing will make us leave you.”

Harry’s face contorted with rage. “No?” he snarled, in a low, dangerous voice that sounded nothing like him. “Bet you a galleon?”

Harry spun, drawing his arm back, and threw the amulet as hard as he could. It connected with the stone wall and shattered into a thousand pieces, scattering glass and hairs everywhere. And something else flew from the enclosure as well – something intangible, but definitely there.

Hermione was gulping back keening sobs when Harry turned back to face her. She could feel what had been forced upon her departing, but all the memories remained. She did love Harry dearly, but the craving to do anything he asked, the hunger, was fleeing her – and she’d never have done half of what she did without the Charm she now knew had been real. It had been so insidious, she hadn’t even realized. “H-h-how could you?” she wailed. “After all the f-friendship we g-gave you! You t-took away our will, our lives! How could you do this to us? ”

“I already told you, Hermione,” Harry said with a hollow resignation. “Nothing about me matters but defeating Voldemort. Now that I know I can…I just can’t bear to keep doing this to you all. I swear to you…from now on, you won’t have to deal with me any more. You’ll be able to have your own lives…without me.”

Hermione clutched at her stomach, felling sick. “You bastard,” she whispered harshly, digging her nails into her skin. “You sick, t-twisted…”

“I said you wouldn’t be able to think of names bad enough to call me,” Harry whispered. He faced Hermione and spread his arms. “Go ahead, ‘mione. Curse me. I know you can’t kill me, I still have to face Voldemort, but I have pain coming to me, don’t I? I bet right now you could pull of Cruciatus like a dream.”

Hermione’s wand was out and pointed at Harry before he could blink. It shook in the air as Hermione trembled, fighting herself; she wasn’t a malicious person, but her mind was clouded with rage, screaming at her to pay Harry back for what he’d done. One of the people she’d trusted most in the world had violated her, used her, used all of them. And he just stood before her, not even flinching, waiting, knowing that this pain he’d earned…

Hermione turned and ran, her crying echoing across the room. The door slammed behind her, leaving Harry alone.

“Told you so.”