The Lost Horcrux

Close to the Bones

Hermione scoffed. "I can just about not strangle myself, having to endure the two-and-a-half minutes of missionary, and two inches of Ron, I have to put up with every month. I am not encouraging more positions, definitely not offering more holes. For fuck's sake, Sue, you're supposed to be supporting me here!"

"I am," said Sue. "I'm just saying ... I never let Blaise finish in any part of me that might lead to babies. He's still a man ... he thinks it's kinkier that way. I think I'd rather slit my own throat than have his seed quicken in my womb, so I keep them as far apart as possible."

"That attitude will get you killed," said Hermione, warningly. "You can't put it off for long, if you have any idea of living beyond Thirty. You know the law."

Sue huffed outside the door. "Well, you don't seem exactly thrilled, yourself ... that you and Ron might have to start playing at being Mummy and Daddy soon. As if pretending to be a loving wife wasn't hard enough ..."

Hermione shuddered at the notion. I'm not pregnant, I'm not pregnant ... I cast the Contraceptive Charm quickly enough ...

"Anyway," Sue went on. "I thought your Bedding Rite was only carried out last week? Why the fuck did you sleep with him again before you had to?"

Hermione sucked in a breath, and swallowed hard at the memory. She reached into her handbag on instinct, to touch up the concealer over her black eye. Susan was three sheets to the wind from pre-drinks before they'd even met that night. She hadn't noticed so far ...

"It wasn't by choice."

Susan stopped her foot tapping at once. Hermione could hear the tone of her breathing change. It was rapid, angry now.

"Min ... did he ... did he hurt you again?"

Hermione gave a mirthless chuckle. "He isn't big enough to hurt me, Sue."

"But he did force you?" Susan asked, gently.

Hermione sighed. "You know he pretty much always forces me, if I haven't just given in first."

"Min ... open the door. Right now."

Hermione stood, reluctantly. She raised a shaking hand, and looked at the pregnancy test she was holding ... and took a happy, relieved breath. It was negative. She smiled broadly, then pulled her underwear and jeans up with a new sense of vibrancy running through her. Then she unlocked the door.

And screamed in terror ... for Ron was standing before her, holding Susan's severed head in his hand.

"Bitch! You think I've forced you before ... I'll make you wish I was that gentle again!"

Hermione screamed again and woke, kicking and screaming against the confines of her quilt, which were pinning her in. She was stupefied by sleep, still held by the potency of the bad dream. Her nightie was soaked in sweat, her mind so shaken that she couldn't get her bearings at first. She was lost, afraid, and shivering violently from the cold engulfing her.

Then there was a swirl of hot air nearby ... and Hermione was being scooped up into strong, protective arms ... arms that simply refused to let her be afraid anymore. They hugged her so tightly, so lovingly, she couldn't breathe for it. Waves of adoring energy were flowing into her, making her giddy with happiness ... and turning her rumbling fear into animalistic lust. She turned her head and bit wantonly into the flesh she found there, nibbled at a downy-haired nipple, grazed her teeth against the solid muscle of a chest so familiarly scented ...

Then Hermione snapped her head up in surprise.

"Harry!"

"It's alright ... ssshhh ... I'm here now, I'm here ... ssshhh, it's okay ... I've got you, you're safe now ... ssshhh ..."