Sisters of the Dark Moon

Finally, I’m writing again! Actually I’m also working on an original novel as well.
The ideas began coming once more for the plot of this fiction, so I hope you enjoy where it is headed. Let me know!

Disclaimer: I can claim no ownership of the characters and settings in this fiction.




An Unusual Accomplice


Hermione ran back to the castle, her eyes watering. She tried not to look at anyone she passed, turning her face away and quickly going on her way. Up the stairs, two at a time, her chest heaving with distress, she knew she couldn’t take this anymore. It had to end!

Luckily her roommates were still out fooling around, because she absolutely needed the room to herself. She slammed the door shut, resting her back on it a moment as she caught her breath. Closing her eyes, her tears fell anew.

With a gasping cry she pushed away from the door and headed for her personal chest at the foot of her bed, flinging open the top and rummaging through it for the little red casket. Her hand grasped it and she brought to her chest, holding it there while she closed her eyes and tried to compose herself.

She could feel the will of the Goddess inside her, trying to dominate, but Hermione knew she had her own will and, now, she needed to use it!

Sitting back on her heels, she placed the casket before her on the floor and opened the lid, revealing a small golden statuette. She knew the Goddess would be displeased to see her at such a weak moment, but she was having trouble holding back her tears.

“Please,” she sniffled. “I beg you to remove the curse on Malfoy. I no longer want his attentions.”

She waited for a sign, an answer. There was nothing but silence.

“Goddess of the Dark Moon, hear me. I ask that you remove the curse from Draco Malfoy.”

A breeze swirled into the room from an open window, making the curtains billow out towards her.

“No,” a voice hissed in the wind. “He must suffer…”

“But, I am the one who has been suffering, my Lady,” Hermione replied. “His mind is too strong and I cannot change his memories! Please, help me.”

“Then you must kill him…” came the answer.

Hermione gasped, shocked. “What! No! I can’t do that!” She was crying hard now and shaking her head. “I can’t! I won’t!”

“You must… It is my will.” The horrifying voice replied.

Hermione jumped to her feel. “NO!” she screamed. “I will not! I won’t do it. I won’t do any of this anymore. I’m tired of it. I’m tired of deceiving my friends. That’s not ME! That’s not who I am!” She pulled of her ring and threw it at the casket, barely missing it as the ring bounced off the floor and across the room. Then she tore the medallion off her neck and threw that as well, anger welling up in her breast. The medallion hit the statuette of the Goddess, knocking it over.

“FOOL!” the voice yelled. The swirling breeze had quickly become a strong gust as it slammed hard into her, throwing her roughly against the wall.

Hermione screamed and yelled, “NO! Stop!” as the wind blasted against her.

The forceful air broke the window and the glass flew straight at Hermione as she sat cowering against the wall, cutting into her. Screaming with pain and fear she finally yelled, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’ll do it! I’ll do it!”

The wind died down and the voice said, “You will sacrifice him on the next Dark Moon.” And then the wind left.

Hermione sobbed a few more times, before she collapsed onto the floor.

OOOOOO

When she next opened her eyes, she found herself lying on a bed in the infirmary. Ron sat next to the bed whispering across to Harry who sat on the other side of the bed. When he glanced down and noticed her eyes opened, he exclaimed, “Hermione! You’re awake!”

“Ron?” she answered, timidly. What if he remembered all that was told to him earlier? What if he knew all that she had done to him and Harry?

A big smile filled his face. “You all right, then?”

“I… think so,” she mumbled. Her mind went back to anger of the Goddess and how she must have blacked out. “Do you know what happened?”

“Some of the girls heard you screaming and glass breaking,” Harry answered. “They fetched McGonagall and when the door was opened they found you passed out and all cut up. They thought maybe someone threw something in the window and it hit your head. All they found on the floor was some statue and a box. Do you remember anything?”

Hermione sat up in a rush, regretting it the moment she did. The bandaged cuts seared with pain. “Where is that statue now?!” she demanded.

Harry and Ron looked at her, surprised at her vehemence. Ron shrugged.

“Why?” Harry inquired.

“I…” she looked at her friends, her face falling in despair. “Nothing, I guess. I thought maybe I could examine it for clues.”

She hated that she couldn’t tell them the truth. Hated it! Harry and Ron had always been there for her and would have helped her with anything. But the Goddess of the Dark Moon would not be pleased if she confided in men, not in the least.

“Well, don’t worry any,” Ron replied. “I’m sure McGonagall took it to Dumbledore already. They probably want to determine whether it was a Death Eater attack or some such.”

Hermione’s face turned pale with fright. Oh Gods! Not Dumbledore!

“Hermione, what’s the matter?” asked Harry, concerned.

She lay back down with a groan. “Please… just let me rest right now.”

“Hermione?” Harry questioned again. Something was definitely wrong.

“I’m just tired,” she lied.

Harry and Ron looked at her a few more moments.

“All right then,” Ron answered. “If you need anything…”

She nodded and watched them leave, whispering, “I don’t deserve friends like you.”

OOOOOOO

Draco sat at dinner that night, noticing that the Gryffindor table was missing one – the one he most wanted to see. Had he finally gotten to that evil little witch? He’d like to think so, though it did bother him to leave her looking so broken today.

That’s not what he wanted. At least, he didn’t think he did. When it came to Granger, he could no longer think straight.

Perhaps she was in her room, thinking about him, touching herself maybe. He smiled at that thought. He imagined her thrashing around on her bed, her fingers working that delicious cunt, moaning and calling out his name.

His friends seemed well satisfied with their little romp this afternoon. The Gryffindor girls were all talking to one another at their table, paying particular attention to something Potter and Weasley were telling them.

Stupid arses! Potter and Weasley! Duped again! Draco couldn’t help but laugh. Blaise turned his head and asked, “What’s so funny?”

“Just thinking about those two fucking morons,” Draco replied, indicating Harry and Ron. “Think if they use that charm on them enough, they’ll lose all their memories?”

“Gods! I hope so,” Blaise laughed. “That would certainly help the Dark Lord, wouldn’t it?”

“Hey, Teddy, you missed out on all the fun today,” Goyle said.

“Yeah, I heard,” Theodore grumped. “What the fuck did you do to Granger, Draco? She didn’t even show up for dinner.”

Draco grinned, wagging one eyebrow. “Well, you know how it is, Teddy. After having me, she needed time to recover.”

OOOOOO

Madam Pomfrey unwrapped the bandages and announced, “All healed, my dear.”

“Thank you,” Hermione replied, slipping off the bed and turning to reach for her robe.

“Oh, and Professor Dumbledore has asked to see you in his office,” Pomfrey added.

Hermione shut her eyes a moment and took a breath. So, here it comes! Dumbledore was no idiot. He was sure to have examined the statue and casket by now and who knows what he might have discovered.

She grabbed her robe with a frown and made her way through the halls and up to the Headmasters office. Surprisingly the door was already open and she went up the spiral staircase, hearing Dumbledore speaking to someone.

Entering his office, she saw Ciril Godfrey, a seventh year Ravenclaw sitting in one of the chairs across from Dumbledore’s desk.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Hermione began. “But Madam Pomfrey said…”

“Yes, yes, come in,” Dumbledore replied, waving his hand to the chair next to Ciril. “I hope you’re feeling well, Miss Granger.”

“Yes, sir,” Hermione answered, sitting down in the chair indicated. Her eyes flicked down towards the statue and casket sitting on his desk and she was unnerved by the accusing look on the Goddess’ face. She quickly looked back to Dumbledore. “What did you wish to see me about, sir?”


Dumbledore stared at her a few moments. The clocks in the room ticked on the wall as the silence lengthened. Finally he said, “Miss Granger, is this statue yours? Or did it fly through your window as Professor McGonagall claims?”

Hermione looked at Ciril, realizing that here sat the one person who knew the truth, at least, some of the truth. Now she couldn’t claim the statue flew through the window. Not with Ciril sitting right here.

“I suppose Ciril has already informed you of its origins?” Hermione responded.

“Yes, but I wanted to hear it from you,” Dumbledore replied. “I must say, it deeply worries me that someone of your character, Miss Granger, would commit a crime. Please tell me that I’ve misunderstood.”

Hermione’s mind was racing. Crime? Which crime was he talking about? Her hands gripped the side of her chair, hands that wanted to wrap around Ciril’s neck and choke the life out of him.

“It’s not so simple, Professor,” Hermione replied.

“Then enlighten me, please,” Dumbledore responded, sitting back in his chair and folding his hands in expectation.

Hermione glanced at the Goddess’ face. Were her eyes squinting in threat? Gods! What should she say? Fuck! Fuck this business. Ciril was going to fucking get it! Rat bastard!

“I got it in Egypt,” Hermione said, sending a scathing glance towards Ciril.

“Yes, Mr. Godfrey here has informed me that you ‘acquired’ this statue on the field trip to Egypt with your Ancient Runes class,” Dumbledore stated.

“Yes, sir,” Hermione confirmed, “the summer before last. I bought it at a gift shop.”

Ciril looked aghast. “But you said…”

“Mr. Godfrey, please allow Miss Granger to explain,” Dumbledore interrupted.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Hermione replied. “I told Ciril a fib. You see, when our class went exploring the tombs in the Valley of the Dead, I was distracted by some interesting hieroglyphs down one of the tunnels. The air was a bit stuffy in there and I fainted. Ciril found me and shook me awake. He found the statue I had purchased earlier lying next to me and assumed that I had just found it in the tomb. I thought his story sounded much more interesting, so I went along with it. I just wanted to shock him and have a bit of fun. I made him promise not to tell anyone I was a tomb robber.”

Ciril sat looking at her in confusing. “What! But…”

Hermione looked at him with a grin on her face. “I’m sorry, Ciril. I was just having a bit of fun with you.”

Dumbledore caressed his beard in thought. “Well, that explains how you acquired this statue, Miss Granger. But now we must solve the mystery of what happened to you yesterday.”

“Yes, well, I was going through my trunk when an enormous gust of wind blew through the window. That’s all that I remember, sir.”

“Miss Granger, how much do you know about this particular statue?” Dumbledore asked, looking at her carefully.

“Not much, sir,” Hermione answered. “I’ve been searching for more information on her. But perhaps she was just something made for the tourists.”

“No, I’m afraid she is not,” Dumbledore replied. “In fact, I suspect that this statue may be imbued with dangerous magical properties.”

“What?!” Hermione exclaimed, feigning surprise. “Is it cursed?”

“Have you had any other strange occurrences happen to you, Miss Granger? Or perhaps more bad luck than usual?”

“No,” she shook her head.

“I’m going to keep this statue in my office for further analysis,” he announced. “I’m only relieved that something more serious didn’t happen to you, Miss Granger. You both are excused.”

“Yes, sir,” they replied, rising from the chairs. Hermione took one more look at the Goddess, who seemed furious. She turned and walked quickly out of the office with Ciril on her heel.

What was she going to do now! She prayed that Dumbledore believed her story. The Goddess was going to be so angry. What if she hurt Dumbledore? Killed him in his sleep? Gods! Everything was falling apart. She wished she had never found that statue! Anger grew inside her until it was a pulsing entity of its own. Midway down the hall, she spun around and grabbed the front of Ciril’s robes, shoving him into the wall.

Ciril was small for a seventh year, skinny and nonathletic. He looked at Hermione in shock as she pushed closer to him, pinning him against the wall.

“You little fuck!” Hermione growled. “You rat bastard! How dare you run to Dumbledore and talk to him behind my back.”

“We were worried about you,” Ciril replied, shocked at her vicious behavior. “I was the only one that could help with information about the statue. So I did.”

“Yes, and now he has my statue, doesn’t he, you stupid fucking prick moron,” Hermione seethed, grasping Ciril around the neck and digging her nails into his skin.

Ciril didn’t recognize this girl in front of him. Hermione had never behaved in this way, never looked at anyone with such a murderous expression. He took her by the shoulders and pushed her away with all his might.

Hermione went back three steps and then pulled out her wand. Ciril’s eyes grew big with fear. “Get in that fucking classroom,” she ordered, waving her wand towards the door behind him.

“What are you going to do?” Ciril asked, worried.

“You leave me with little option. Now get in!” she snapped.

Ciril turned and walked into the classroom.

OOOOO

Draco, doing his scheduled patrol of the halls, had come upon the most interesting site. There was Granger, after being absent from meals and class for the whole day, pointing her wand at that nerdy little prick, Godfrey. Draco had pressed himself into an alcove and watched with interest. Now what could she possibly want from that little git, when she could have someone like him?

He decided it just wasn’t going to happen.

He walked up to the classroom door and carefully opened it a crack, peeking in. There was Godfrey bound to the top of one of the desks, obviously silenced as Draco could hear none of the cries that his face was expressing.

Then he saw Granger, pacing back and forth behind Godfrey’s head and muttering, “You just had to tell, didn’t you? You know, I don’t really like doing this, but you leave me no choice. No choice.”

Draco pulled out his wand and held it at the ready, just in case Granger decided to attack him. He walked in and closed the door behind him, pointing his wand straight at Hermione. “Hello, love,” he said. “Having a bit of fun, are we?”

Hermione jumped at the sound of his voice. “Are you stalking me, Malfoy?”

Draco laughed. “Stalking? Me? No, I was doing my duty as a prefect. And look what I stumbled upon here: Granger, getting ready to rape another bloke.”

Ciril opened his frightened eyes wider at the word rape.

“That’s not what I was about to do, Malfoy. Just mind your own business and be on your way,” she replied.

“You know, Granger. If you’re feeling randy, I’d be happy to oblige. And I dare say I’d do a much better job than little Godfrey here.”

“I’m not randy, damn you!” she snapped. “I don’t want to fuck him. He… he knows too much, all right? I’ve got to alter his memories.”

“Found out about you, did he?” Draco said, coming a little closer. “How?”

“Not in the way that you think,” she answered. “So just leave, Malfoy. It’s not about sex, so it shouldn’t interest you.”

“So I’m only interested in sex, am I?” Draco replied, smirking.

“Aren’t you?” she retorted. “Besides, I don’t have much time. They’ll be watching me closer now that this rat bastard went to Dumbledore.”

“He what?” Draco answered, the grin falling from his face. Draco walked up to Ciril, grabbing his robe front in his fist. “What the fuck did you do, shit breath? I can’t stand little babies that have to run to Dumbledore to tattle.” He looked at Hermione. “I say we fuck him up for being such a pussy.”

“We?” Hermione said, surprised.

Draco grinned at her. “Yes, we, Granger. We already share many secrets together. What’s a few more.”

Malfoy wanted to help her? Hermione was flabbergasted. Then her mind went back to the Goddess and she shook her head. “No, Malfoy. You shouldn’t get involved with this. In fact, you should stay as far away from me as you can.”

Draco laughed. “Come off it, Granger. I don’t really think you want me to stay away from you.”

“You think far too much of yourself, Malfoy,” she replied.

“I’m a Death Eater, Granger,” Draco stated. “Torture is what I do best. Let me take care of the fucking rat. Like I said to you before, I can help you in many different ways. You don’t have to do everything yourself.”

“Why?” Hermione replied, exasperated. She wasn’t used to seeing Malfoy so… so... compliant.

His face became serious as he looked into her eyes. “I think you know why,” he answered.

Gods! He thinks he loves me! Hermione’s mind screamed silently. That curse, that fucking curse. It was a mess, everything was a mess. And she was supposed to kill him too. Fuck!!

“No, Malfoy, I’m just going to alter his memories. Anything else will be unnecessary.”

“Unnecessary, but fun,” Draco grinned.

“You’re sick,” she replied, grasping Ciril’s head and holding it still with one hand while she revealed her wand with the other.

“Oh, so the pot’s calling the kettle black, now,” Draco laughed. “Here, let me help you.” He walked up to Ciril and held his head still for her. “It might look suspicious if you removed too much of his brain.”

Ciril’s eyes widened and he began thrashing. Draco lifted his head and bashed it back down on the table, sure to give Ciril an aching headache for awhile. “Hold the fuck still,” Draco growled.

Hermione pointed her wand at the center of Ciril’s forehead and began chanting the charm needed, making sure to erase any memories of what transpired after leaving Dumbledore’s office. Then she put him to sleep and unbound his invisible bonds. Ciril would later awaken to think he fell asleep in a classroom.

Draco and Hermione slipped out the classroom door and began walking. “So what did he actually see, Granger?” Draco asked.

“None of your business,” she replied.

“Did he catch you fucking someone?”

Hermione heard the anger in Malfoy’s voice when he spat out the word ‘fucking.’ “No,” she replied.

“No, you weren’t fucking someone, or, no, he didn’t catch you at it,” he asked.

“No, to both,” she said.

“Where have you been all day?”

“Stop asking questions like you’re my father.”

“Are you in trouble with Dumbledore?”

“Not if he believes my story.”

“Does he?”

“I don’t know.”

“Fuck, Granger.” Draco pushed her into an alcove, wrapping his arms around her. “Let me fuck you. I can’t wait anymore. I wanted to kill fucking Ciril to get him out of the way.”

“Malfoy…” she hesitated. Gods! He was so fucking hot, she had to admit that. Evil, hot, wicked….

Draco saw her hesitation and knew he had won. His lips descended hungrily on hers.

OOOOOOOO

**Sorry about the lack of smut, but I felt I had to round out the plot some more in order to continue this story. As you can see, we’ll get smutty next time!

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