Mistaken Identity

Mistaken Identity

This takes place in an Alternate Universe
Warning there is a rape/force sex in this story.

The Wrong Nee (like knee)

The battles were taking place outside of Hermione’s town, her new home. So many people, both magical and muggle were getting killed .. murdered by the Dark Lord’s army. They were like a disease, a plague, swarming locusts across England and France ...perhaps farther. Many owls had been shot out of the sky so messages were being sent by person, bats, pigeons or even bottles when people were close to the sea, river or stream.

Hermione Granger lost her parents when the Deatheaters struck her small town. She herself just barely got away by hiding in an alleyway. All muggles were killed - if they were lucky. Some were tortured to death as they begged for release. Wizards and witches were forced to watch the muggles suffer and then they were forced to partake in the torturing in addition. If they did not, they were the next victims. Hermione didn’t see this, but she heard it happening as she snuck out of the town and was unable to help any of them.

She escaped and walked for several days until she came to a village. The Minister’s Inn there was run by Mr. Fudge and Mrs. Figg, who took her in. Hermione needed a job and a place to live and they were willing to try her out for quite a few months as a barmaid as well as a servant girl. They had a few rules: no lying, no stealing, be polite to the visitors,
comfort them ( as many of them had lost loved ones in the war ), keep the bedchamber door open when you are cleaning or changing the bedding, and no sleeping with the visitors, especially not for money.

The Merry Mistress Inn on the next block over handled those sorts of clients.

Hermione and the other girls (maids) Lavender, Hanna and Marietta were housed in the attic at night. Hermione had to help with meals, changing the linens and cleaning the bedrooms, setting up washbowls and towels.

There was a rumor of a battle taking place a few miles away from the Inn. The people waited and watched to see who came into town. Waited to see if they were going to have to run for their lives or not.

Early in the morning a ragtag army came walking into town carrying their wounded and their dead.

The minister went running to see if he could help them; others in the town joined him. Hermione ran after him with pail, clean rags and healing potions.

As the minister prayed over the dead, Hermione took care of the wounded. A pale- faced boy no older then she was carrying someone on the stretcher; the face and body covered with a sheet, indicating that he was dead.

The boy carrying the deceased had black hair that made him look even paler. He wore glasses that were too dirty to see through but he just kept walking along with another boy with brown hair and a very long face. A face that had seen too many friends die in battle. There was no glory in their eyes even as they had won the battle, only the hollow look of seeing death all around them.

Most of the soldiers went into pubs, taverns and Inns to get a drink first and then a room to lay their weary head and pour out their hearts to the fellow soldiers and bartenders.

Hermione cleaned and wrapped wounds for the soldiers she found that needed it.

Then Hermione went back to the Inn and dropped off the pail.

The Inn was full of men looking for rooms for the night. Luckily she had prepared fresh linen in most of them, so she went to the market with basket in hand to get vegetables and meat for lunch and supper.

Hermione saw the same a pale-faced boy who had carried one of his dead friends there along with another boy who looked like he had some drink in him and was feeling merry. They were watching a street performer play a fife, a violin and a big drum cymbals all at the same time... making a lot of noise instead of music … as they discussed what they should do while in town.

“Harry, come on. I just want to get washed up and get into a bed with a warm soft body. You can get food later.” The boy spoke with an Irish accent.

“But I’m hungry. We haven’t eaten all day. Besides, I don’t know any one in this place.”

“Then you should try Bonnie Lass. She’ll see you’re a soldier and will love you all night with that voluptuous body of hers. I had her once; fine Scottish wench. Or if you want to fuck a different hole. Fannie Annie is the girl you’re looking for. She has a tight arse and tight hole to boot,” he laughed.

“Seamus, I need to eat or I’ll pass out,” his friend Harry argued.

But his friend just ignored him went on and on. “There was another one, chamber girl of some sort? She’s pretty and she really enjoys playing the helpless virgin. I had her once too; she puts on a great act fighting your protests, but not too much, acting all innocent until you have her standing up, bent over, or flat on her back then she is not so innocent. That is Cho.. no, that’s Gin…,” snapping his fingers trying to remember the right names.

Hermione couldn’t believe the soldiers discussing the prostitutes. She knew the prostitutes or of them; Bonnie loved soldiers and gave them a good time. Annie would do anything for money that the other girls wouldn’t do. Ginny would act all innocent young maid one moment and a wild woman in bed. Cho, the exotic lady, delighted men with all of her massage oils and her toys. Hermione had heard about them for months from her customers and had seen them walking down the street shopping. She had nothing against them; they did what they had to do for money just as she did; perform a service.

The street performer got louder and louder, beating his drum as the street got busier.

“Well, let me get something to eat and I’ll meet you there this evening. What were their names again?”

“There’s Bonnie Lass, Fannie Annie and….”

There came a huge crash from the cymbals next to Harry’s head and he didn’t hear the last thing Seamus said.

“Oh my head, what was the last name you said?”

Another crash from the performer, banging the cymbals together for his finale.

“ …nee,” was all Harry heard as his friend shouted at him, patted him on the back and scooted toward a painted lady who had caught his eye just then.

Hermione noticed many young soldiers were looking for women’s company, but that was nothing new to her. Every time the armies came back from a battle they would look for that kind of woman. The woman provided a service to the young men who were keeping their towns and cities safe at a potentially very high price, their lives.

She picked the vegetables and meats she needed for the noon day and evening meals. She stopped at the cheese shop to get some cheese to go with the bread she was going to make that day. Lastly, she found some good peaches and apples for the tarts that most of her patrons liked so much.

Many of the men who were staying at the Inn were going to be visiting the coquettes that night so many already were in their rooms bathing, writing letters home, resting or else out and about visiting friends looking around.

Hermione made lunch for the occupants of the Inn that day, yesterday’s roast ham with beef broth and boiled potatoes and peas.

After lunch she started making the bread and cut up the beef, potatoes, onion, carrots and peas, then simmered the stew for a long time.

Evening came and she served the stew and bread with butter in the dining room. There she saw the young man, Harry, alone looking very unhappy while drinking down his ale and picking at his dinner. She brought him another pint of ale and sat down next to him and asked, “Is there anything I can help you with, sir? You look very sad.”

He looked at her without really seeing her, “No. There is nothing you can do. I lost some very good men this last battle; some very good friends.” He sipped his drink.

“Well if you need an ear or anything I’ll be around,” patting his shoulder, “I’m Hermione.” She got up to gather the dirty dishes and mugs, as well as some coins left as a tip for her, as she refilled plates and drinks. The other maids got more tips though, being prettier - pinching their cheeks, styling their hair and wearing scented oils. Mr. Fudge didn’t like it, but the girls convinced him that smelling like dirt, chickens and of horse and looking like old spinsters with dresses buttoned half way to their necks was not winning any customers… and maybe they were right, as she smelled of beef, smoke and ale and didn’t look like a young girl.

Hermione finished cleaning the dining room and stored the rest of the food away. It was getting late and she made sure all the rooms were clean and had fresh linen and water for drinking and washing.

Hermione ran herself a hot bath and asked Marietta if she could use some oil to scent the water. Marietta agreed and gave Hermione vanilla and lavender oil. Hermione only used one drop of each the oils in her bath.

Marietta laughed at Hermione and said, “Are you afraid of smelling like a women? You didn’t put enough in; you can barely smell the perfume,” as she got dressed to go out to a party to honor some of the soldiers.

“Come out with us. There are lots of very handsome men in town tonight and all so eager to meet some young girls,” she added.

Hanna peeked in on the conversation from the bedroom threshold, “Yes, Hermione<,> you should come with us and have some fun. Who knows what tomorrow will bring.”

“We could all be dead in our beds by morning, so you might as well live a little,”
Lavender said, walking up behind Hanna, nodding.

“You didn’t hear the conversations I heard. Most of the soldiers it seems want to have an evening over at the Merry Mistress,” Hermione informed her.

“Yes, I did notice a lot of men hanging out in front of the place. In fact there’s a waiting list apparently. Some of the men were told to come back later because there were too many soldiers to accommodate at once,” With a strange stare in her eyes, Marietta said softly, “Those girls must be making so much money today .. and they’ll be making even more tonight.”

“Marietta! You’re not thinking of …?” Hermione breathed out, shocked. The two girls at the door shrieked.

“Oh heavens no! But all they have to do and lay on their backs and let the men do all the work,” Marietta commented.

“I don’t think it’s that easy.” Hermione commented, “You have to please them… and they see you all naked… put their hands all over you and kiss you wherever they like. Sometimes men get rough with them. That type of women doesn’t get married and have children; who would marry them?” as she tried to make it sound like a horrible thing to do, so her friend wouldn’t venture into the line of work.

“The same ones who would marry you, Hermione, then they sneak away from you at night to see their pretty painted face girls, ” Marietta said, jokingly.

Hermione turned red with anger and splashed water at the girl. “Hey, I was just joking.” Marietta said.

But Hermione felt it would be true if she had someone. Marietta and the other girls had admirers sending them notes, flowers and even jewelry. Hermione had no one, no young man or older man.

As she sat in the tub, Hermione washed her bushy hair wishing she was prettier and longing to have someone special.

She got out of the tub and dried off in front of the mirror. Hermione looked at her reflection. Hair wet and pasted to her head, her eyes a dull brown like her hair. She didn’t have large breasts but she didn’t look like a boy. Her brain was her best asset - but what man wants a woman who thinks? . They wanted a woman with hips and bust. She looked at herself in the mirror. No, there was no one for Hermione today or tomorrow, a month or year from now. No husband, no children, no hope for a family.

She had a good head for books and business and that was going to be her future. She hoped to have a bookshop. She changed for bed, slipping on her nightgown and twisting her hair into a bun and went to sleep.

A few hours later she was shaken out of her sleep. “Hermione wake up!” Mrs. Figg shouted happily.
“What is it?”

“The Minister needs your help. There are ten sets if couples downstairs that wish to get married tonight seeing that the soldiers will be leaving tomorrow. They want to get married as soon as possible.”

Hermione started to get dressed but Mrs. Figg cried out, “Come on, just put on your robe.”

Mrs. Figg and Hermione went down the stairs as fast as possible.

The Minister had his book out. Mrs. Figg went to her room and brought back a box of rings, both gold and silver.

Hermione went down the wine cellar and got a few bottles. She heated up some stew, then cut slices of cheese and bread. Finally she quickly warmed some tarts and fruit bread.

Hermione peeked in on the Minister and he nodded. She walked in and watched him marry couple after couple within two hours. To everyone’s surprise, Hanna came in with one of the soldiers hand in hand, giggling. It only took as few minutes and Hermione’s friend was now a bride, and wife to Neville Longbottom. Some of the couples were slightly drunk, but very happy as they went to their rooms to start their honeymoons.

Hermione, Mrs. Figg and the Minster had a few drinks to toast all the newlyweds. Five glasses was more wine Hermione had had in her life and she was feeling little dizzy and very warm.

It was very late now and the other girls had returned from their evening out. Mrs. Figg was waiting for Hermione so she could lock the girls in for the night when Hermione heard someone pounding on the Inn’s locked door.

Hermione trudged down the stairs as the pounding continued. She opened the peek hole to see who was there, calling, “Who is it?”

“Miss. This soldier has a room here. He’s nearly passed out.”

Hermione opened the door and there were three men there, two of them holding up a third soldier. They carried him in and sat him on the chair.

It was the sad soldier Harry. He looked pale and smelled of brandy. One of the men started to laugh, “Poor fellow, he was at the Merry … “ and he started to laugh hard, “he drink too much waiting too long ... passed out on one of the girls…” laughing harder still, “… before he could do anything.”

Hermione looked in the ledger to see where Harry’s room was.

The two men left and Hermione helped the semi-conscious patron up the stairs to his room. Harry came to as they were walking down the hallway.

“Here we are,” Hermione said as she opened the door. Harry walked in and sat in a chair looking very upset.

“Sir, do you need anything?” Hermione asked hoping he wouldn’t so she could go to bed. She was still feeling the wine in her system and all she wanted to do is sleep it off and get up early to start breakfast.

He looked at her, trying to get his coat off. She came over to him and helped him take it off saying, “I know you’ve had a hard few days sir. Fighting. You’ve lost a great deal and you should be sad, but think. You’ve won the battle which means more of us will live -” Hermione told him in an attempt to make him felt better. She started for the door but stopped when she heard him say something.

Harry started to say something that she couldn’t hear at first but then it was clearer,
“ I was standing there in the town and people were running past me. I held my wand out and waited to see where they were. In a flash, dozens of them were in front of me shouting spells. I shot spells back at them. Suddenly there was a woman running, shouting for help and before I could say the spell to shield her she was dead a few feet from me.”

Harry looked at Hermione with tears streaming down his face, “ I couldn’t ... I wanted to ... but I couldn’t save her … happened so fast ... so fast.”

Hermione walked over to him. She didn’t know what to say so she just put her hand on his shoulder.

He continued, “We were in the market place having a great time eating and drinking and out of nowhere two Deatheaters were there killing muggles left and right. Twenty were killed before we got them … And this morning we were fighting and the Deatheaters retreated and I looked around to my right and everyone looked ok, no wounded and turned to my left and there, right next to me, was Cedric standing against the tree - his eyes open and a surprised look on his face. I asked him what was the matter and put on my hand his shoulder, and he fell over … he was dead. He was beside me and I didn’t even know he died.”

The young man pulled a small bottle of brandy out of his pocket, removed the cork, then raised the bottle into the air, “To my fellow soldiers, to my friends who were like my brothers … rest in peace,” and he chugged some of it down. He handed it to Hermione who politely took a sip before she set it on the wash table.

Harry stood up and looked at Hermione. “ I don’t want to remember it now. I just want to feel alive again. I don’t want to see death in my dreams. I want something soft and lovely to look at. Something that smells sweet. ”

He looked at her curiously and asked, “What is your name?”

“Hermione.”

“Hermionee? You’re the chambermaid?”

“Yes, is there something you want? I can get you fresh linen? Water..?” Hermione started to ask, looking into his green eyes that were searching hers.

Harry raised his hands to her cheeks cupping them. He bent down into her face and said softly, “I need to be comforted,” and his lips took hers for a moment.
When the kiss broke, Hermione stepped back and put her hand over her mouth in shock, bumping into the door, making the door close behind her.

Harry smiled and went to give her another kiss but she stepped back again with her hand out, “Stop!”

Hermione had felt dizzy and warm as it was. When he kissed her it felt wonderful but she knew it was wrong. She didn’t know this man.

He grabbed her at the waist, his other hand behind her head, pulling her against him. His mouth this time took more then just her lips , invading her mouth. Hermione’s body stiffened with shock and horror. She could taste the brandy in his mouth and heard him moan pulling her closer…tighter. She struggled and tried to push him off but he held her firm.

“Let me go,” she said as she twisted her head away from his to breathe. He whirled around and she found herself on her back in the bed.

Her robe had come undone and opened, exposing her simple nightgown. The boy standing next to the bed had undone his trousers and was coming towards her.
“Don’t, please!” she exclaimed, shaking her head. Hermione squirmed off the bed making her nightgown bunch up. She landed in a sitting position on the floor.
He threw off the covers of the bed. Upon seeing her knickers the drunken soldier pulled them down. He picked her up and plunked her once again onto the middle of the bed. He pulled the knickers completely off of her and knelt between her legs. Hermione’s heart was pounding in her chest.

Legs and arms flailing to get him away from her, Hermione shouted, “NO! Leave me alone.” But he silenced her shouts with his mouth as he lay on top of her.

Hermione felt his flesh against her and terror coursed through her body and mind. Then it happened - she felt his manhood clumsily make its way between her legs, her folds and into her entrance. She had her hands and nails going into his shoulder. The drunken boy awkwardly grabbed her hands but not before she slapped his cheek. He looked confused and shocked. He covered her mouth once more with his as he pushed himself inside of her awkwardly, bit by bit.

Hermione tried to be brave but she cried softly, wondering how she had got into this situation. Hermione tried to move her hips back away from him but that just gave him easier access to her. With a few hard thrusts he was deep inside of her. It was painful at first, but as soon as his length was all the way in, the pain faded.
He didn’t last as long as most men would -being drunk - and then he passed out. She barely pushed him off of her before Hermione fainted.

~~

Hermione woke. Her body ached. Her arms, legs, hips and another place she didn’t even know could hurt all ached. She moaned as she tried to move.

There was a movement on the edge of the bed and she opened her eyes to see a young man looking worried. Everything that happened the night before came back to her and she pulled the covers up to her chin. The young man stood up and put his hands up in to keep her quiet. “Calm down… Now,” he looked confused, “ Where am I?”

“You’re in your room.”

“This is the Merry Inn?”

“No, this is the Minister’s Inn.”

“How did I get here?”

“You passed out at the Merry Mistress and two men brought you here.”

“Then who are you? You’re from the Merry..?”

“Certainly not.” Hermione shook her head.

“Then why?… You and I?… If you don’t work ...” the soldier sputtered out, getting more and more upset, “ You weren’t playing ... pretending?” he said, closing his eyes tight, not wanted to believe what was unfolding in his mind.

Hermione shook her head and started to cry.

The soldier sat down on the bed and Hermione pulled the cover around her.
Again he held up his hands to calm her,“I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Why did you attack me?” Hermione asked.

“I thought I was at Merry Mistress. I was waiting to see Bonnie but there was a long line for her, so I was going to the chamber maid.”

“And you asked me if I was the chamber maid,” Hermione recalled.

“And there was a chamber maid who had a ‘nee’ at the end of her name. Your name is Hermionee.”

“I think you were looking for a floozy named Ginny,” Hermione spat out and then began to cry … “How could you think I was one of those girls? I talked to you at dinner last night, asked if you were all right.”

“I drank a lot last night,” he admitted.

“Oh God, last night. My reputation is tarnished, ruined. I’m going to be sacked. No job, nowhere to live … I might as well join Bonnie and the rest of them ...” Hermione said, as she started to shed tears.

“I have a reputation that can be ruined with this too. Me, taking advantage of a woman.”

“Raping a virgin!” Hermione snapped out.

Harry’s head fell into his hands with disgust and he moaned, “Oh God, what have I done, I’m ruined.”

Harry popped his head back up, then suggested, “We can keep this a secret. No one has to know. I can give you money for last night …”

“Sir, you can’t buy what was not for sale. You took it; stole it like a thief.”

“That’s not what I meant, money for a new start, for your pains. You can find a new place to live and work can’t you?”

“Not for miles.” She shook her head. “ Mr. Fudge - the minister - took me in out of pity and I’m still on trial .” she said as she got out of bed and went to the door. “ If Mrs. Figg forget to lock the door I can sneak in and no one will know I was out of the attic all night.”

Hermione slowly opened the door. No one was in the hallway so she tip toed towards the attic door thinking, ‘Mrs. Figg had too much to drink last night like we all did and
(crossing her fingers) fell asleep before locking the door.’ Hermione came to the door and slowly turned the knob, but it didn’t turn … locked.

Hermione leaned up against the door. Suddenly there was a voice behind her, “Is there another way in?”

Hermione turned and Harry was looking at her.

“No, this is the only way in.”

Hermione then heard Mrs. Figg’s voice on the other side of the door and she jumped,
“Oh no, it’s Mrs. Figg.”

Harry pulled her back to his room and said,“Can you make up a story that ...”

“You were sick and I had to make sure you were well?”

There was a knock on the door and Harry opened it. Seamus was on the other side of the door. “Harry, we’re leaving in less than an hour. Let’s get washed while we can and get some breakfast. I’ll see you down stairs.” Hermione walked toward the door. Seamus leaned in and saw Hermione behind the door.

“Harry, did you get married last night?”

And as Harry turned to look at Hermione the door opened wider as Mrs. Figg walked by.
“HERMIONE GRANGER, what are you doing in there!”

All Hermione wanted to do was disappear at that moment. “Mrs. Figg I can explain.. you see … Last night this soldier here,” signaling to Harry, “came in late. He wasn’t feeling well ...”

“Harry, are you sick?” Seamus asked.

“What Hermione means is that I was upset about having lost my friend in the battles. I needed to bend someone’s ear and she politely listened to me all night.”

“All night?” Mrs. Figg asked.

“Yes, Mrs. Figg,” Hermione said.

Seamus walked into the room and sniffed the air, “You two didn’t talk all night. I know the smell of a heated ...”

“SEAMUS, I’ll meet you downstairs,!” Harry shouted, turning red.

“Hermione Granger, I would suggest you pack your things…” Mrs. Figg started to say.

Just then Hanna and Neville were walked by hugging, Hanna saying, “I will write every day, Neville. I promise.”

“And I you,” Neville said.

“I’ll stay here until the Inn gets another girl and then I’ll go to your grandmother’s house.”

Hermione held back her tears.

Harry looked at her, breathed in and announced, “Fine. Pack your things Hermione. I don’t think I want my future wife to work here, they work you to the bone as far as I’ve seen,” staring at Mrs. Figg.

Hermione’s mouth dropped.

“Future wife?” Mrs. Figg said out loud.

Just then Mr. Fudge came into the room, “Did I hear Hermione is engaged?”

“Yes!” Mrs. Figg answered.

“Well why don’t I marry you two now?”

“What, no!” Hermione breathed out.

Harry looked trapped.

“Hermione, why? Don’t you want to get married?”

“We only got to know each other a few hours ago,” Hermione said.

“That’s why we are engaged. Once you are married it is ... it’s forever.” Harry said.

“Till death to us part and we want to make sure we want to spend the rest of our lives together. Many things can happen in war time. I could die or you could get killed.” Hermione said.

“We might not see each other for years,” Harry and Hermione said in unison.

“I don’t think it’s fair to make Hermione wait years for someone she barely knows to call him ’husband’.”

Mrs. Figg and Mr. Fudge looked back and forth to Harry and Hermione.
“It seems you two have thought this through,” Mr. Fudge reviewed, “Well then, Hermione go get dressed. We have soldiers to feed. And Hanna’s not the best cook and may be setting the kitchen on fire again.”

“Yes, sir,” and Hermione quickly left Harry’s room for the attic.

She quickly washed off the evidence of her encounter a few hours ago and hid under her bed her nightgown with the stain from losing her virginity.

Hermione ignored the soreness of her hips and ran down the stairs to the kitchen.
Eggs were frying and bread was toasting and the meat was sizzling over the long huge fireplace and the oven and the soldiers had taken up all of the tables. Hanna was smiling but walking a little slowly.

“Hanna, we have customers to feed, can you not move any faster?” Hermione asked
while she grabbed a pot, pouring water and oats into it for porridge.

“Hermione, I was married last night,” Hanna groaned.

“And your husband is hungry this morning, so move a little faster so he doesn’t starve to death.”

“That’s easier for to you to do,” Hanna addressed Hermione and then whispered,
“Neville and I shared a wedding bed last night. Now I understand ‘ Merry man have weary wives’,” and she giggled with her newfound wisdom as she rubbed her hip area.

Hermione forced a smile for her friend and scolded her, “You shouldn’t talk of such things,” and let out a weak laugh and tried to forget the same knowledge she had found a few rooms away from her friend. ‘It was an honest mistake. I happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time… and had a nee at the end of her name,’ she thought as she put the pot over the fire and stirred the meal.