100 Moments
folder
Harry Potter › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
100
Views:
10,663
Reviews:
52
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
100
Views:
10,663
Reviews:
52
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Broken
Title: Broken
Author: ianthe_waiting
Rating: MA
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter books and their characters are the property of JK Rowling. This is a work of fan-fiction. No infringement is intended, and no money is being made from this story. I am just borrowing the puppets, but this is my stage.
Genre: Drabble, PWP
Warnings: Dub-con
Summary: #71 – Broken. She had feared he had been broken.
Word Count: 1,134 words.
Author's Notes: Drabble: a slice of fic in less than 1500 words. Suggested by donquixote17.
Prompt 71 – Broken
Harry had been acting odd all through the ceremony. He sat on one of the benches down the row from her; his eyes closed, his lips moving, his hands shaking. His face was pale, and she wondered what had become of his glasses. No one seemed to notice, or if they did, did not let their eyes linger long on the man.
Ten years, it had been ten years since Harry had defeated Voldemort in the Great Hall in which they now sat. It was the celebration of that anniversary, and the placing of a commemorative marker into the center of the floor of the hall…a great circular bronze crest with an image of a phoenix…a marker to remind future generations of the importance of that May day ten years before.
Hermione Granger ignored the words being spoken by the current Minister of Magic, and studied Harry.
Ginny Potter seemed oblivious to her husband’s behaviour, as did Harry’s best friend, Ron. Hermione…was on the outside after ten years. Her friendship had been cast aside when she did not accept Ron’s proposal. Ron sat with his own wife, Pansy Parkinson, near Harry. Hermione sat alone.
Harry hands shook, and he grasped his pant legs, his eyes opening at some unknown signal, staring blindly outward for a moment before flicking to Hermione’s face.
Hermione blinked as Harry’s mouth curled into a disconcerting grin, his face turning to her. Hermione quickly looked to her lap, and the dark green fabric of her knee long skirt. She had not talked to Harry in at least two years. She had known that she would see him, all of them, and she was not afraid to confront their cold faces. They particularly disliked her…the Weasleys…since she had dated Draco Malfoy on and off for the past three years. Draco was not present.
When the ceremony ended, Hermione quickly left the Great Hall to find a restroom, and remembering that she could easily slip into Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom unseen, she did so. Luckily, the melancholy ghost seemed to have occupied elsewhere.
Hermione moved to the sinks, washing her hands, smoothing her curls over her shoulder, and smiling into the mirror, her makeup in order, her lipstick fresh. Adjusting the silver dragon pendant on the chain about her neck, she frowned as she noticed one of the buttons on her pale green blouse was loose and hanging by a thread.
However, before she could slip her wand from her sleeve, she heard the door bang shut hollowly behind her. In the mirror, Hermione could just make a figure behind her…and turning, found herself suddenly flying back from the sinks to collide painfully into wall below the great circular window…between the stalls. She had been knocked from her shoes, and her bare feet dangled just an inch from the floor.
A hand was over her mouth, another wrapped about her throat…and as she slid down, toes in contact with the floor, only the hand over her mouth moved. The hand about her throat was choking her, but not enough so that she could not breathe.
“Hermione.”
Harry Potter stared at her; emerald eyes gleaming dangerously, the lighting bolt scar an angry red.
“H-Harry?”
“I’ve been meaning to catch up with you…”
And then he kissed her. Hermione whined into the kiss, her eyes wide, but as his lips demanded her reciprocation, she hummed and shut her eyes. Harry’s fingers moved to grasp her skirt, bunching it in his hand. Hermione’s eyes opened again even as their tongues twisted and danced. Harry’s hand had found its way under her skirt to grasp the side band of her knickers.
Pulling away, Harry panted, his breath hot in her face. Hermione’s hands grasped at Harry’s shirt, trying to push him away.
“What is this?” she gasped, and then let out a short, breathless scream as Harry tore away her underwear.
With a grunt, Harry spun her away from the wall so that she fell to the floor, painfully. But before she could try to rise, try to run, Harry was upon her, twisting her body. Hermione whimpered as she found herself on her back, Harry between her thighs, his body pinning her down to the floor. Fighting with her shirt, Harry plucked her wand from her sleeve and threw it across the bathroom. Then, with a chuckle, he grabbed her wrists in one hand and slammed them above her head and into the floor.
They panted, staring at each other, Hermione with frightened amber eyes and Harry with amused emerald eyes…
“This is, to answer your question, my love, something I need to do…” Harry panted.
He kissed her again, their eyes boring into each other…Hermione’s fear replaced by anger. She tried to kick, tried to bite, but to no avail. Harry ripped away the silver pendant, and Hermione roared…the silver dragon bouncing across the stone floor and out of sight.
“Do you love me?” he asked…causing Hermione to stop fighting to stare up at her old friend incredulously. “Do you?
Hermione frowned. “Harry…”
“Do you?” Harry roared in question, his grip on her wrists tightening.
“YES!” she screamed.
Harry’s face softened and he pressed a strangely tender kiss against her lips. But no matter how tender his kiss was, his free hand had snake down to push her skirt to her hips, and hot fingers slipped between the flesh lips of her body and flicked brutally at the nubbin of flesh hidden there…
Hermione squirmed out of the kiss and tried to scream…but nothing came but a strangled groan. Harry grinned into her cheek before licking his way to her ear, nibbling on her throat just below her earlobe.
When Harry entered her, Hermione wept, not because her best friend was trying to convince her body that she wanted him, but because it was not truly her best friend who was forcing himself into her body. He had released her wrists, but she did not fight. She clung to him, just as he clung to her.
Harry was cooing to her, his eyes penetrating into her mind just as his organ was penetrating into the hollow of her body. He was telling her that he had been wrong, that he loved her, always had…he was telling her that they would be together, forever. He was telling her how strong, how brave, how beautiful, and how perfect she was…for him.
And as she cried out, his hand wrapping about her throat, she knew that every word had been in Parseltongue.
Emerald eyes flashed ruby, and Hermione knew for certain…something that she had feared. Harry Potter was broken, and had been for years. And as he kissed her, squeezing her throat, blood coming from her nose, Hermione Granger knew that Harry Potter wanted to break her too.
Author: ianthe_waiting
Rating: MA
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter books and their characters are the property of JK Rowling. This is a work of fan-fiction. No infringement is intended, and no money is being made from this story. I am just borrowing the puppets, but this is my stage.
Genre: Drabble, PWP
Warnings: Dub-con
Summary: #71 – Broken. She had feared he had been broken.
Word Count: 1,134 words.
Author's Notes: Drabble: a slice of fic in less than 1500 words. Suggested by donquixote17.
Prompt 71 – Broken
Harry had been acting odd all through the ceremony. He sat on one of the benches down the row from her; his eyes closed, his lips moving, his hands shaking. His face was pale, and she wondered what had become of his glasses. No one seemed to notice, or if they did, did not let their eyes linger long on the man.
Ten years, it had been ten years since Harry had defeated Voldemort in the Great Hall in which they now sat. It was the celebration of that anniversary, and the placing of a commemorative marker into the center of the floor of the hall…a great circular bronze crest with an image of a phoenix…a marker to remind future generations of the importance of that May day ten years before.
Hermione Granger ignored the words being spoken by the current Minister of Magic, and studied Harry.
Ginny Potter seemed oblivious to her husband’s behaviour, as did Harry’s best friend, Ron. Hermione…was on the outside after ten years. Her friendship had been cast aside when she did not accept Ron’s proposal. Ron sat with his own wife, Pansy Parkinson, near Harry. Hermione sat alone.
Harry hands shook, and he grasped his pant legs, his eyes opening at some unknown signal, staring blindly outward for a moment before flicking to Hermione’s face.
Hermione blinked as Harry’s mouth curled into a disconcerting grin, his face turning to her. Hermione quickly looked to her lap, and the dark green fabric of her knee long skirt. She had not talked to Harry in at least two years. She had known that she would see him, all of them, and she was not afraid to confront their cold faces. They particularly disliked her…the Weasleys…since she had dated Draco Malfoy on and off for the past three years. Draco was not present.
When the ceremony ended, Hermione quickly left the Great Hall to find a restroom, and remembering that she could easily slip into Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom unseen, she did so. Luckily, the melancholy ghost seemed to have occupied elsewhere.
Hermione moved to the sinks, washing her hands, smoothing her curls over her shoulder, and smiling into the mirror, her makeup in order, her lipstick fresh. Adjusting the silver dragon pendant on the chain about her neck, she frowned as she noticed one of the buttons on her pale green blouse was loose and hanging by a thread.
However, before she could slip her wand from her sleeve, she heard the door bang shut hollowly behind her. In the mirror, Hermione could just make a figure behind her…and turning, found herself suddenly flying back from the sinks to collide painfully into wall below the great circular window…between the stalls. She had been knocked from her shoes, and her bare feet dangled just an inch from the floor.
A hand was over her mouth, another wrapped about her throat…and as she slid down, toes in contact with the floor, only the hand over her mouth moved. The hand about her throat was choking her, but not enough so that she could not breathe.
“Hermione.”
Harry Potter stared at her; emerald eyes gleaming dangerously, the lighting bolt scar an angry red.
“H-Harry?”
“I’ve been meaning to catch up with you…”
And then he kissed her. Hermione whined into the kiss, her eyes wide, but as his lips demanded her reciprocation, she hummed and shut her eyes. Harry’s fingers moved to grasp her skirt, bunching it in his hand. Hermione’s eyes opened again even as their tongues twisted and danced. Harry’s hand had found its way under her skirt to grasp the side band of her knickers.
Pulling away, Harry panted, his breath hot in her face. Hermione’s hands grasped at Harry’s shirt, trying to push him away.
“What is this?” she gasped, and then let out a short, breathless scream as Harry tore away her underwear.
With a grunt, Harry spun her away from the wall so that she fell to the floor, painfully. But before she could try to rise, try to run, Harry was upon her, twisting her body. Hermione whimpered as she found herself on her back, Harry between her thighs, his body pinning her down to the floor. Fighting with her shirt, Harry plucked her wand from her sleeve and threw it across the bathroom. Then, with a chuckle, he grabbed her wrists in one hand and slammed them above her head and into the floor.
They panted, staring at each other, Hermione with frightened amber eyes and Harry with amused emerald eyes…
“This is, to answer your question, my love, something I need to do…” Harry panted.
He kissed her again, their eyes boring into each other…Hermione’s fear replaced by anger. She tried to kick, tried to bite, but to no avail. Harry ripped away the silver pendant, and Hermione roared…the silver dragon bouncing across the stone floor and out of sight.
“Do you love me?” he asked…causing Hermione to stop fighting to stare up at her old friend incredulously. “Do you?
Hermione frowned. “Harry…”
“Do you?” Harry roared in question, his grip on her wrists tightening.
“YES!” she screamed.
Harry’s face softened and he pressed a strangely tender kiss against her lips. But no matter how tender his kiss was, his free hand had snake down to push her skirt to her hips, and hot fingers slipped between the flesh lips of her body and flicked brutally at the nubbin of flesh hidden there…
Hermione squirmed out of the kiss and tried to scream…but nothing came but a strangled groan. Harry grinned into her cheek before licking his way to her ear, nibbling on her throat just below her earlobe.
When Harry entered her, Hermione wept, not because her best friend was trying to convince her body that she wanted him, but because it was not truly her best friend who was forcing himself into her body. He had released her wrists, but she did not fight. She clung to him, just as he clung to her.
Harry was cooing to her, his eyes penetrating into her mind just as his organ was penetrating into the hollow of her body. He was telling her that he had been wrong, that he loved her, always had…he was telling her that they would be together, forever. He was telling her how strong, how brave, how beautiful, and how perfect she was…for him.
And as she cried out, his hand wrapping about her throat, she knew that every word had been in Parseltongue.
Emerald eyes flashed ruby, and Hermione knew for certain…something that she had feared. Harry Potter was broken, and had been for years. And as he kissed her, squeezing her throat, blood coming from her nose, Hermione Granger knew that Harry Potter wanted to break her too.