Adverse Reactions

It had been three hours since Hermione had first arrived at the gravesite. Every moment seemed to tick by as if there were nothing left for her to live for and that was when she realized that she had to get home to the Burrow. She still had her sons to attend to.

Hugo was nine. The boy was nine years old and when Hermione had told him that his father was never coming home Hugo just smiled and told her.

“Well he better bring me something nice back when his trip to heaven is over.”

Fred was even younger than Hugo. He was turning six next month. So brave and thoughtful. He reminded Hermione of the original Fred Weasley. He had set one plate too many the previous nights. When she asked him about it, he just smiled.

“Daddy might come home from Heaven tonight. Daddy doesn’t like it when he doesn’t have supper.”

Sometimes it was easier for Hermione to let him think what he wanted instead of trying to explain what she herself couldn’t even get a grasp on. She had wanted so bad to just huddle up into a corner and die the minute she saw Kingsley Shacklebolt standing on her front step. She wanted with all her might to slam the door in his face and yell that it wasn’t true and that her Ron was going to come home to her and everything was going to be one horrible dream.

But it wasn’t. This wasn’t a dream. She was standing inches away from her husband and finally realizing he was never going to come back. For the first time in Hermione’s life she felt empty. Nineteen years ago she had kissed this man for the first time right before she and the rest of her friends went into a war that they fought at seventeen years of age. And now, after facing Voldemort and destroying Death Eaters and saving the world and all the other things that made them known as the Golden Trio one little curse had killed the man she loved. Ron was dead.

Hermione hadn’t told Rose. The girl was eleven years old. Hermione had thought about telling her. She was so happy when she got into Gryffindor with James and Albus. Rose was just like her father. And just like that Hermione had known that there was no reason in ruining her first year at Hogwarts so early by sending word to her that her father was dead, although she really knew in her heart that Rose would find out somehow. Hermione just didn’t have the heart to admit to herself that her husband was dead.

He was buried there, underneath a small willow tree. So was Hermione’s heart.

Hermione gathered her purse and turned to leave noticing that the sun had just set beyond the line of the trees and was casting a soft amber glow on the gravestones ahead. Hermione gazed at the sight and wondered if this was Ron’s way of saying he was ok. Hermione flashed back to Ron and Harry laughing and joking with her in Ron’s flame orange Chudley Cannon’s room, throwing joking punches at one another while Ron accidentally hit his head on the low ceiling of his room. The memory was of laughter and friendship and that alone brought enough happiness to Hermione’s heart to help her ignore…

Everything on her froze. It was as if someone had cast a body bind spell on her. Her legs were trapped in place and she struggled against herself to try and break free. She screamed with all her might, but nothing came out. Hermione panicked, looking around for some way she could get to her wand when she saw him. Right before her was a tall lanky man who Hermione recognized immediately as one of the Death Eaters from the battle at the department of Mysteries so many years ago.

The smirk on his face was unmistakable. He was there to harm her. Her heart pounded in her chest as she watched him saunter toward her, his wands waving in front of him like a conductor’s baton. She was immediately thrown backwards against the oak tree he had been lurking behind just minutes before. She struggled as her arms became pinned against the tree above her head and she was staring wide eyed and terrified into the cold blue eyes of a Death Eater.

He watched her, never taking his eyes off of her glare and smiling as he approached her. She tried to struggle free, but he had her pinned with every curse he could think of. She was his. Bound to a tree like the useless animal she was. He came close to her, pushing himself toward her. He eyed her hungrily and Hermione could smell the alcohol on his breath and the stench of the cologne he had bathed himself in. She was trapped and he knew it.


“Well. If it isn’t Potter’s little Mud blood. Where’s Potter now little girl?”

Hermione pleaded with her eyes as she scanned around, but looking got her a good slap across the face and a hand at her throat. She met eyes with the man and watched horrified as he eyed her body hungrily, gazing up and down at her and licking his lips. Hermione closed her eyes, praying he would simply leave her alone, but this behavior got her another slap in the face.

“Do you know the things I’m going to do to you right here in this cemetery?”

His mocking tone said it all. He had snaked his arm up her right thigh and was now pulling the belt from around her waist. Tears of begging poured from Hermione as she pleaded with him not to do this, but he ignored her, busying himself with pulling one piece of clothing off of her at a time.

He had removed her belt and scarf and the cashmere sweater that Ron had bought her for her birthday last year. She was now shivering in only her thin jeans and undershirt as this man reached for her pants and pulled them down in one clean movement. Hermione thrashed as best she could while he was at her ankles pulling her pants from her body, but nothing worked.

She could smell him as he came to slap her again, but this time she would not open her eyes. After three good slaps and a punch to the stomach, he was content to finish what he started. Before Hermione could realize what was happening, he had pulled her undershirt from her body and pressed his teeth to her right breast, biting her until he got a good scream. Hermione cried out, realizing now the silencing charm was gone. She screamed as loud as she could, both out of pain and humiliation, but that just seemed to push him on.

He was now inserting fingers into her opening, pushing three and four in at a time listening to her scream in pain. His teeth bit violently against her neck leaving vicious bite marks and little trails of blood that he then licked up with his tongue. Hermione screamed. He laughed. The torture went on for what seemed like hours when in reality it could only have been a matter of minutes, but Hermione could feel him pushing his bulging erection into her hips letting her know what was coming.

The next this Hermione knew she was bent over a headstone, her lower body exposed and she could hear the shuffle of fabric and the loud quick chirp of a zipper. Hermione let out a blood curdling scream that was silenced immediately when he thrust into her violently; leaving her with so much pain no sound could escape her mouth.

Her body shook violently threatening to knock her unconscious, but the pain still wouldn’t subside. It felt like someone were tearing something out of her body, and she screams of pain were only and incentive for this violent death eater to smack a firm hand across her ass, grab her breasts as support and pound her body with more force than before.

Another sharp pain and she was lying on her back with him on top of her, pounding furiously into her, using his arms to grope her breasts and push her legs so far sideways she thought they would break off. His maniacal laughter didn’t subside and she didn’t know what else to do but let her body succumb to unconsciousness. The pain was unbearable and as she felt the world go out of focus and her body rake with terror everything stopped.

A voice that sounded strangely familiar, as if from a dream…or maybe a nightmare echoed across the deserted cemetery. A man. The weight was thrown from her body and she could breathe again. But the pain didn’t go away. The tearing sensation didn’t go away. And neither did the man. She saw him now through the field of burry color and she heard him. The man screamed a wand brandished in his hand.

“Avada Kedavra”

A bright flash of green light. Hermione thought she heard someone call her name. They were very far away.

And then everything went black.