Unknown Halves
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Hermione/George
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
11
Views:
6,960
Reviews:
14
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Hermione/George
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
11
Views:
6,960
Reviews:
14
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter (wish I did). I make no money from this (I'm still broke).
Chapter Seven
Chapter Seven
Hermione looked through her purse, wanting to make certain that she had taken everything out of it that she needed for when she went over to Azkaban. It was in the middle of this that she heard the door to the room slam open.
Glancing up, she saw George in a state she had never seen him before. He was furious.
“You are not going to Azkaban!” he roared.
“Is that so?” she asked him, but went back to looking through her purse.
George went straight over to her until they were nose to nose. “That is so, kitten.” He took her purse from her, tossing it aside. “You aren’t going to see that murdering bastard and that’s final.”
Hermione’s eyes went hard, narrowing as a low growl radiated from her.
“And if you think for one millisecond that I will be intimidated by that, you have another thing coming,” he snarled, grabbing up her arm, preventing her from taking up her wand. “I think it’s time for you to be learning a very important lesson, kitten. I think I know just how.”
***
No one saw the two for three days. Food would vanish from the kitchen and the bathroom was locked up from time to time, but none of the people in the house actually saw them. Sirius thought they were disapperating and apperating, but no one heard the loud pops that came along with doing so. It was even debated that they were flooing. But as there wasn’t a fireplace in the bathroom, this was an impossibility.
When they did see them, it was a blow up fight that had them all rushing over to the sitting room where Hermione was yanking her suitcase, or trying at any rate, away from George.
“You’re not going!” he raged.
“Like bloody hell I’m not!” she yelled right back at him. “Enough is enough, George Weasley!” She let go of the bag and he went flying backwards. She advanced on him, wand drawn and pressed to his throat before he could even think of grabbing his own. “I will not be subjugated, ordered to be a good little girl and sit at heel. If you’ve watched me as much as you’ve claimed, you would know as much without being told. If you want someone to order about, as well as someone to keep you company, get a dog!” With that she grabbed her bag and left, via the floo.
George sat there shaking. He had been wrong. He had thought if he used sex, or the tease and temptation of it and then the denial of orgasm…
She had called it torture. At first it had been fine. She had even said as much. But by that morning she had more than enough. Playing was one thing, this had become completely another. Where had he gone so wrong? Was it wrong from the start? Or did it deviate somewhere along the way? Whatever the case he had hurt her. Had he used her? For what, he asked himself. What had she ever done, but worry about his welfare and try to help him?
“George?” Harry asked tentatively. “Are you okay?”
“No,” he whispered, burying his face into his hands and began to sob.
***
Hermione had left not only the house, but England as well. Australia’s weather was just what she needed, she told herself. She quickly found the magical community and availed herself to a bed and breakfast. After hanging up her things, she went about Melbourne with a quiet continence as she tried as she might to think about what she would do next. Hermione thought about going over to her parent’s graves. She pushed the thought out of her head. She had been to far too many graves as of late.
The final thought brought her back to thinking about George. She sat down hard on a near by bench and looked about the park she had been walking through, as she tried not to think about him yet again. It wouldn’t have worked out, she told herself.
How would you know? You never gave it a chance.
She rolled her eyes. If there was one thing she hated, it was inner monologues. It was after all, the first sign of madness. No, she corrected, it was talking to ones self. Again, she pushed the thought out of her mind. What now? She didn’t know and because of that felt all the more at a loss. What now…what now...what…now…?
Muttering a curse she ended up back at the bed and breakfast, locked in the room and praying that this night would be better than her last three.
It wasn’t.
Hermione struggled to think of something other than about what was supposed to come next. Supposed? Where her parents supposed to be killed by a drunk driver? No. Were Dumbledore, Tonks, Remus, Fred and countless others supposed to die because of a mad man’s greed to control the world? Absolutely not, she nearly muttered to herself. So then, what made her think that the plans from before the war were set in stone?
And then there was George. Sighing, she wondered what she was going to do about him. With any luck whatsoever he was going to see the mediwizard. He needed it. Needed to speak to the man about what he was feeling. About the pain and the grief that wouldn’t go away. Hermione swallowed thickly. It was like a knife, she thought, and it ripped and tore until you think you’ll bleed to death without a single wound on your body. Swallowing thickly, she stood up. Lunch, she told herself, she would go out and eat lunch.
Lunch, it turned out to be a dismal affair, where she was made to feel the pariah for daring to want to dine alone. True, it was curiosity for the most part and none of the people she spoke to were in any way rude, but still she felt like the odd duck out sitting there alone.
“Miss Granger, I would ask you what you are doing here,” a soft gruff voice whispered. “But I find that I don’t care.”
She looked up to see Severus Snape with a severely bandaged neck before her world went black.
***
Thank you for taking your time to read my work! Please take the time to review! It's much appreciated!!
Hermione looked through her purse, wanting to make certain that she had taken everything out of it that she needed for when she went over to Azkaban. It was in the middle of this that she heard the door to the room slam open.
Glancing up, she saw George in a state she had never seen him before. He was furious.
“You are not going to Azkaban!” he roared.
“Is that so?” she asked him, but went back to looking through her purse.
George went straight over to her until they were nose to nose. “That is so, kitten.” He took her purse from her, tossing it aside. “You aren’t going to see that murdering bastard and that’s final.”
Hermione’s eyes went hard, narrowing as a low growl radiated from her.
“And if you think for one millisecond that I will be intimidated by that, you have another thing coming,” he snarled, grabbing up her arm, preventing her from taking up her wand. “I think it’s time for you to be learning a very important lesson, kitten. I think I know just how.”
***
No one saw the two for three days. Food would vanish from the kitchen and the bathroom was locked up from time to time, but none of the people in the house actually saw them. Sirius thought they were disapperating and apperating, but no one heard the loud pops that came along with doing so. It was even debated that they were flooing. But as there wasn’t a fireplace in the bathroom, this was an impossibility.
When they did see them, it was a blow up fight that had them all rushing over to the sitting room where Hermione was yanking her suitcase, or trying at any rate, away from George.
“You’re not going!” he raged.
“Like bloody hell I’m not!” she yelled right back at him. “Enough is enough, George Weasley!” She let go of the bag and he went flying backwards. She advanced on him, wand drawn and pressed to his throat before he could even think of grabbing his own. “I will not be subjugated, ordered to be a good little girl and sit at heel. If you’ve watched me as much as you’ve claimed, you would know as much without being told. If you want someone to order about, as well as someone to keep you company, get a dog!” With that she grabbed her bag and left, via the floo.
George sat there shaking. He had been wrong. He had thought if he used sex, or the tease and temptation of it and then the denial of orgasm…
She had called it torture. At first it had been fine. She had even said as much. But by that morning she had more than enough. Playing was one thing, this had become completely another. Where had he gone so wrong? Was it wrong from the start? Or did it deviate somewhere along the way? Whatever the case he had hurt her. Had he used her? For what, he asked himself. What had she ever done, but worry about his welfare and try to help him?
“George?” Harry asked tentatively. “Are you okay?”
“No,” he whispered, burying his face into his hands and began to sob.
***
Hermione had left not only the house, but England as well. Australia’s weather was just what she needed, she told herself. She quickly found the magical community and availed herself to a bed and breakfast. After hanging up her things, she went about Melbourne with a quiet continence as she tried as she might to think about what she would do next. Hermione thought about going over to her parent’s graves. She pushed the thought out of her head. She had been to far too many graves as of late.
The final thought brought her back to thinking about George. She sat down hard on a near by bench and looked about the park she had been walking through, as she tried not to think about him yet again. It wouldn’t have worked out, she told herself.
How would you know? You never gave it a chance.
She rolled her eyes. If there was one thing she hated, it was inner monologues. It was after all, the first sign of madness. No, she corrected, it was talking to ones self. Again, she pushed the thought out of her mind. What now? She didn’t know and because of that felt all the more at a loss. What now…what now...what…now…?
Muttering a curse she ended up back at the bed and breakfast, locked in the room and praying that this night would be better than her last three.
It wasn’t.
Hermione struggled to think of something other than about what was supposed to come next. Supposed? Where her parents supposed to be killed by a drunk driver? No. Were Dumbledore, Tonks, Remus, Fred and countless others supposed to die because of a mad man’s greed to control the world? Absolutely not, she nearly muttered to herself. So then, what made her think that the plans from before the war were set in stone?
And then there was George. Sighing, she wondered what she was going to do about him. With any luck whatsoever he was going to see the mediwizard. He needed it. Needed to speak to the man about what he was feeling. About the pain and the grief that wouldn’t go away. Hermione swallowed thickly. It was like a knife, she thought, and it ripped and tore until you think you’ll bleed to death without a single wound on your body. Swallowing thickly, she stood up. Lunch, she told herself, she would go out and eat lunch.
Lunch, it turned out to be a dismal affair, where she was made to feel the pariah for daring to want to dine alone. True, it was curiosity for the most part and none of the people she spoke to were in any way rude, but still she felt like the odd duck out sitting there alone.
“Miss Granger, I would ask you what you are doing here,” a soft gruff voice whispered. “But I find that I don’t care.”
She looked up to see Severus Snape with a severely bandaged neck before her world went black.
***
Thank you for taking your time to read my work! Please take the time to review! It's much appreciated!!