Chapter XX
Chapter XX
As the beam struck Harry, he felt such intense pain that he greyed out. It was only Hermione's scream that
forced him back to consciousness. Steadying himself against the edge of his worktable, he could only watch as she fell
forward. She stopped herself with her hands for a moment, but she was obviously weak. Her arms trembled and gave
way as she slumped forward, passing out across the table.
Malfoy laughed and clapped his hands. "Oh, very nicely done. You should be on the stage, really!"
"Sit up, Miss Granger. Enough of your melodramatics," Snape snarled.
Harry stood and walked over to her, holding himself erect with the precision of a drunken man who knows he
will fall if he is not careful.
"Sit down right now, Potter!"
Harry ignored the teacher and checked her carefully. Pulse, yes, thank God. Breathing, yes. Skin, pale and
clammy. Going into shock? Eyes half-open, mouth gaping. Harry realized he was regaining control of his own body
now, able to lean over without losing his balance.
"Fifty points from Gryffindor for disobeying a professor!"
Harry continued to ignore him, instead stepping around the worktable and picking her up. "I'm taking her to
the hospital wing, Professor Snape," he said through clenched teeth. "You will not stop me."
"I don't think so, Potter," said Snape, levelling his wand at Harry again. "I'm used to the histrionics of
students wishing to avoid class work. Put her down."
"Fuck you, Snape," Harry said, drawing a gasp from everyone in the room. "I am taking her to the hospital
wing, and the only way you are going to stop me is by killing me. I've survived your lord and master four times, I sure
as hell can survive you." At that moment, no one in the room, possibly not even Snape, could gainsay that. Power was
beginning to crackle around Harry like summer lightning, and a breeze from somewhere fluttered his and Hermione's
robes while leaving Malfoy's motionless. Harry started to walk out from behind the table, but stopped as Hermione
shivered once in his arms, and then went utterly limp. His eyes went wide, and he looked at the professor with
murder in his eyes. "If she dies from this, Severus, make sure your will is up to date." Before the teacher could
respond, the energy flared to levels that tingled along the skin of everyone in the room, and then with a flash and a
BANG! Harry and Hermione were gone.
---
He appeared in the Hospital Wing and screamed for Madame Pomfrey, his murderous calm gone as rapidly as
he had changed their location. "Call Flitwick, McGonagall, and Dumbledore here! Snape just severed a soul
bonding! Get Hermione's parents here too!" He set Hermione gently on a bed and turned to face the stunned woman.
"Do it!" She shook her head and called Dumbledore, while Harry sat by the bed, holding Hermione's hand. "Oh,
Hermione, please don't … oh gods, what will I do if he's …" He shuddered for a moment, and then sat up straighter,
fighting off the despair that was trying to overcome him. "No, I can't think that way. You're in there, Hermione, and I
won't imagine anything else being the case."
Pomfrey worked around him, doing her diagnostic things, waving her wand so that a variety of coloured glows
formed around Hermione, each fading and being replaced by another almost immediately. She frowned and muttered
to herself, and made new glows in colours that Harry wasn't even sure had names. After a few minutes of this, the
Headmaster and his deputy stepped into the room, with Flitwick on their heels. They looked to Pomfrey first, but she
just shook her head. "I don't know what's wrong with her, Headmaster. I've run every diagnostic test I could think
of. It looks like she's in shock, and she's profoundly unconscious, but I can find no physical or even magical reason
why she should be so."
"What happened, Harry?" Dumbledore asked.
"Snape happened," Harry said bitterly. "We walked into class and sat where he had assigned us. Hermione
threatened to break Malfoy's wands when he attempted to put his hand between her legs, which earned Hermione a
loss of points. Malfoy then started casting a very subtle spell that apparently causes the recipient to become strongly
sexually aroused. When I started feeling it, even through the dampened link, I realized what was happening and cast a
Finite on her, which made both her and Malfoy jump. When I explained that I could feel the spell through the bond,
Snape bellowed something about not allowing me to cheat off a know-it-all slut, and cast some spell at me. It wasn't a
Latin one; I don't know what it was. It sounded like he shouted 'training the bindoog', whatever the heck a bindoog
is."
Flitwick's face went white. "Harry, did he say 'Trennen Sie Bindung'?" the tiny professor asked, pronouncing
the words very slowly.
Harry thought for a moment. "You know, Professor, I think that was it exactly."
Flitwick sat down hard on the hospital floor. "Harry, can you feel Hermione at all right now?"
Harry thought for a moment, knowing full well that Flitwick was being serious. He concentrated on Hermione
with all he had. He had noticed one night while trying to fall asleep that if he concentrated, he could feel her heart
beating, even if they weren't touching. He concentrated. He furrowed his brow and put all he had into it. He felt
nothing. He was utterly alone inside his own head. Sorrowfully, he shook his head. "I can't feel her. She's just gone.
I'm not sure I can even feel me right now."
"I was afraid of this," Flitwick said sadly before turning to Dumbledore. "Albus, two statements, neither of
them negotiable. First, I am taking time from my classes, effective immediately, to study this problem. These two are
still alive, and I have no intention of letting either of them die. I need to see if there is a way of reconnecting their
soul bonding with at least one of them unconscious. Second, Severus will be punished for this, at the very least losing
his teaching position for a time, if not permanently, although at the moment my preference is to feed the bastard to the
Dementors."
"Filius, you hate … oh my God, it's that bad?" Minerva McGonagall gasped.
"Severus Snape may well have murdered both of these students, Minerva. Soul bondings are rare, although I
found that I was less than surprised to discover that these two had managed one. Delighted, in fact, ignoring the
chance to study an actual soul bond. I think I could see the beginnings of it during first year, after that troll incident.
It's been growing all this time, and finally solidified this summer."
Harry blushed as he thought about that, but quickly remembered something. "She'll die if it's not able to be
reconnected, won't she?" Flitwick nodded sadly. "What is the likelihood of being able to reconnect us?"
Flitwick looked pensive for a moment before saying, "Even being highly optimistic about it, I would say that
there is only a one in four chance of success."
Harry looked up. "Okay. My work is now cut out for me. Kill Snape, and kill Voldemort. Maybe Malfoy for
afters."
The swish of a cape announced a most opportune arrival. Snape must have practically sprinted from the
dungeons, and arrived just in time to hear Harry's words. "Headmaster, I am aware how you coddle this boy, and let
him get away with murder, but he has just threatened it. I demand that he be expelled!"
Dumbledore looked calmly at Snape. "From what Filius tells me, Severus, Harry would not be so much
murdering you as meting out justice upon the murderer of himself and his … intended."
"What?" came a shriek from the doorway, causing Snape to roll his eyes up into his head. "Hermione's dead?
"
Helen and Doug Granger had arrived.
Harry ran to meet Helen as she pushed past Snape and headed toward the bed that Hermione lay upon. "Not
yet, Mum. According to Professor Flitwick, there's a chance that the bond can be re-established, but the chances
aren't good. Snivellus over there decided that he didn't like me protecting my wife from his pet pervert, and I let slip
about the bond, so he cast a spell that Professor Flitwick seems to think is rather dire."
He spun to face Snape. "You're wrong, by the way. It was no threat."
"You just informed the headmaster that you intend to kill me, and you think that it isn't a threat?" Snape asked
incredulously.
Harry's look was cold. He began to stalk closer to the professor, unconsciously mimicking Snape's own
predatory way of moving. "A threat allows for the possibility that I won't follow through. I promise you this, you
snivelling waste of space – if I die from this, you will be preceding me. Even if I don't die from this, you will precede
me in death. You can infuriate me all you want, and insult me, and treat me like shit, just like those things that I'm
unfortunately related to. I'm used to it. But the second that you listen to unfounded rumours and call my wife a
prostitute, you step too far. You advocated allowing Malfoy raping my wife because you can't stand that she's far
more intelligent than it is, and because you cannot wrap your feeble lump of grey matter around the concept that being
comfortable with nudity doesn't not necessarily mean that you fuck everything in sight! That may be the way that
things were in your family, but she is well adjusted. I will not have you insulting my wife, and the only people I am
willing to call my parents!" His hand shot up, and he backhanded the Potions master across the face. "Severus Snape,
I formally challenge you to a duel of honour. I realize that you have none, but you can fake it, the same way that you
fake working for the Order of the Phoenix while feeding information to Voldemort. You have insulted my wife and
her family by extension. You have also performed a spell with a high degree of likelihood to cause both her death and
mine. It is my right to challenge you to a duel, and if you do not accept, you will be admitting that you are wrong, and
thereby opening yourself to further punishments." He grinned, an expression that did not touch his eyes. "You see, I
have been studying. I'm not nearly as ignorant of Wizarding customs as I used to be."
Dumbledore attempted to regain control of the situation by reaching between Harry and Snape and trying to
push them both back slightly, but neither moved, so he tried verbally. "Harry, I know you are in an extremely volatile
mood right now. Surely you must see…"
Unexpectedly, Harry turned on Dumbledore. "Must? What 'must'? I've been listening to you tell me what I
'must' do for my entire life, and what has it gotten me? The Dursleys, and a cupboard, and this" he said, raising his
left hand, where his agitation was causing the still-tender skin to flame red, "and that," he gestured at the unconscious
girl on the bed. "You said before you considered me an adult. Now prove it and get out of my way. No one else is
telling me what I must do anymore! There are only two things on my 'must do' list right now: dealing with
Voldemort and dealing with him," he said, jerking his thumb at the Professor. "And Voldemort has just dropped way,
way down in my priorities."
"Very well, Harry," said Dumbledore, "I'll not stand in your way. You are right; it is time, and past time, for
you to take your destiny into your own hands."
Snape snorted, rubbing the red mark left on his cheek by Harry's blow. "I've no idea what you're babbling
about, Potter, or why the Headmaster seems determined to indulge you in your idiocy yet again, but it doesn't matter.
I refuse to duel with a child. And as for performing a spell that will kill the two of you? As delightful as such an idea
may be to contemplate, I fail to see how severing a telepathic bond that you two reprobates are using in order to permit
you to pass Potions could possibly threaten your lives. Cease your excessive drama and deal with the fact that you
were caught in your attempts to cheat." He crossed his arms in front of his chest rather smugly.
He wasn't looking very smug a moment later, after Professor Flitwick had thrown him hard enough across the
room that he actually made an indentation in the wall, even with a Cushioning Charm behind him. He was also firmly
bound to the wall. The diminutive professor stalked over to Snape and snarled, "Severus, I will see your ability to
teach revoked if it is the last thing I do. If I have my way, I will be there when you are Kissed. You have performed a
dark spell that should be an Unforgiveable, and performed it upon a student no less! Without bothering to do any
investigation as to the situation or its possible effects! You did not sever merely a telepathic bond, which could have
been severed through many less dangerous spells, but instead you severed a soul bonding! If I can't locate a method of
re-establishing it, then you will have murdered two students!"
Severus was staring at the Charms teacher in shock. "A soul bond? Why was I not informed of this?" he
finally asked.
Helen was in his face suddenly as she screamed, "It was none of your fucking business! You and your
admitted hatred of my daughter and my son may well have doomed them, and you stand there and whine about not
being informed? You would have simply used it against them in some way!" She pulled away from the bound
professor and visibly calmed herself. "When Harry and Filius are through with you, I will be dealing with whatever is
left. And you had best hope that one of them has killed you before I get to you. Your Dark Lord has nothing on a
woman whose children have been hurt." She clasped her hands over her stomach in a manner that looked to Harry as
if she were holding something, but he suspected that it was to prevent herself from attacking Snape.
Harry walked to directly in front of the professor. "What is your answer, Professor Snape? Do we duel, or do
I simply wait for you in a darkened hallway some night and kill you like the Death Eater coward that you are?"
Snape turned a dark purple colour before responding. "If you are so eager to meet your doom, Potter, then I
agree to your duel. I'm sure you know, from all your … studying … that a duel of honour cannot be to the death.
Pity, that, because I would gladly remove the possibility of your reproducing with that … creature on the bed with a
simple wave of my wand."
"The sooner we do it, the better, Snivellus," Harry barked back. "If I could challenge you to the death, I
would. Instead, I want it to the first injury that requires magic to repair it. Broken bones don't count, because the
body can heal that – Muggles do it all the time."
"Fine. Choose your second, and we shall start the duel as soon as an area can be set up." He looked to the
Charms professor. "If you would not mind, professor, I need to prepare for the duel." Flitwick waved his wand and
released Snape, who stalked from the room, vainly attempting to recover his injured dignity.
Harry returned to Hermione's side and sat beside her on the bed. He took one limp hand and cradled it
between both of his, trying to restore its warmth with his own energy. "I love you, Hermione. I know you'll be
disappointed in me for duelling, but he has to be taught that there are consequences." He felt tears building, and made
no effort to hold them back. "You have to come back to me, Hermione. I love you too much to let you just slip away
from me." The tears gently slipped from his eyes and struck her skin. "Come back to me, beloved." he said in a
whisper.
Helen and Doug put their hands on his shoulders, and he looked up at them for a moment, before shaking his
head to clear it. "Let me get out of the way for you two. She needs her family with her right now, and I have things
to get ready for."
"Son, you're her family too, or don't you consider her being your wife as family?" Doug asked.
Harry smiled sadly. "I've been with her since it happened, Doug. Plus, I've known her for only five years; this
starts our sixth. She's your daughter. I'm just the jerk who's put her life in danger yet again. Besides, I need to get
ready for my duel against Snape. I may not be allowed to kill him on purpose, but I'm damned well going to cripple
him for life." He stopped. "Will there ever be a time when my existence doesn't end up harming the people I care
about?"
"Depends on how you define harming them, Harry," Helen said. "Life happens; the good with the bad. You're
dealing with the bad right now, but think of this summer – how would you classify that?" She smiled.
"Think about this in return," he countered. "I was physically abused by the Dursleys, which led to me basically
running away. I call you to help me, because everyone else I knew had stronger ties to the wizarding world, and right
at that moment, I didn't dare contact anyone in the wizarding world, since I knew they'd send me back to the Dursleys,
since I was safest there. In the process of living with you, I managed to commit a legal form of rape with your
daughter, which led to you effectively being forced to accept me as your son-in-law, which put you in even greater
danger than before. The gods alone know how much I love your daughter, and love you two, but … hell, that's not
true. If I really loved you, I'd leave, making it very obvious to Voldemort where I was going. He'd chase me, and
leave you alone."
He sighed, running his hands through his hair. "Think about it – she is lying in that bed, slowly dying, because
of the good things that happened this summer. They lead inexorably toward that. And let's not talk about early
August."
"A-heh," Helen said. "I disagree with your views on this summer, but that's not important. Harry, we need to
talk about early August."
He stared at her for a moment, and then looked at his wrists. "You two are getting a divorce, aren't you?" he
asked sadly. "Despite everything, it was too much for you." He looked into his hands, willing himself not to cry, at
least.
Helen reached out and pulled his head up to look at her. "Actually, no. Doug and I are still carrying on like
you and Hermione are. We're more in love now than before. But we need you to survive this duel with your teacher,
and this problem with the soul bond, Harry." She paused for a moment as he looked quite puzzled. "You see, our
little girls are going to need their daddy around."
Harry's face was a study in puzzlement. "But Doug is sterile, isn't he? Mumps, I think you said?"
"Yes, I am," Doug replied simply. "I fire blanks, as they say. Even Madame Pomfrey can't change that."
"But then …" Harry began, but realization finally struck him, and his eyes opened wide. "Oh my God!" he
breathed. "How can you stand to have me around?"
"Even though it was accidental, Harry, you've given us what we always wanted – more children," Doug said.
"We love you, and we want our girls to know who their father is."
"They will," Harry said. "His name is Doug Granger."
"Harry," Doug began.
"Doug, I may be dead shortly, damn Severus Snape to the deepest pits of Hell. It's best that these girls are
raised thinking that you are daddy. You can always tell them later. Now please, I need to think of what to do against
my Potions professor."
Flitwick walked up to Harry. "Mister Potter? Might I be permitted to be your second? I wish to be there
when you … well, when you kick Severus's arse, I believe the Muggle saying is?"
"I would be honoured, sir," Harry blinked. "What else do I need to know about the duel?"
"No Unforgiveables, which is fairly obvious. Beyond that, pretty much anything goes. If you strike him with a
Reductor Curse, then it means he wasn't good enough to stop it."
"Got it. And nobody's going to arrest me for it afterward?"
Flitwick nodded. "Your challenge was properly issued and witnessed. Whatever happens on the duelling field
is fully supported by our law."
"Good. I assume the duel itself has to have witnesses as well."
"If I'm any judge, the entire school will turn out. You know the gossip has spread like wildfire by now. But at
the very least, we will require those who witnessed the issuing of the challenge to witness its completion. That would
be me, the Headmaster, Minerva, Doug and Helen of course, and Poppy. Poppy will provide medical support as
needed."
"Oh, yes," said Harry softly. "If I have anything to say about it, Madame Pomfrey's services will definitely be
needed down there."
"I understand. After what he's done today, I'd like him to leave in a coffin, personally," Professor Flitwick
growled. Harry shook his head in further surprise at the tone in the professor's voice, and it finally hit home that more
than just the Grangers cared for Hermione. He'd always known it, but it still surprised him.
"Stay safe yourself, Harry," Minerva McGonagall said. "I may be a stern task mistress, but I care for you no
less than I care for Hermione." She kissed him on the cheek. He stood stunned and unmoving.
---
Two hours later, Harry and Flitwick walked out to the Quidditch pitch, where the duel was being held. As
predicted, the entire school population was in the stands, not quite believing what they had heard. McGonagall and
Sprout had made a valiant effort to keep the younger students inside, believing the sight would not be an appropriate
one for pre-teens. Dumbledore, however, told them to let the younger ones see if they wanted to. Their world was at
war, he said sadly, and they would see what it brought sooner or later anyway. Accordingly, they had all turned out to
take advantage of an unexpected afternoon free from classes and see the spectacle. Most of them had equipped
themselves with red-and-gold Gryffindor Quidditch pennants, and were waving them frantically. Harry felt acid rise
in his throat. This was not how he'd envisioned it. But it was what he had invoked, and he would see it through to the
end.
Snape was standing alone near the duelling field as Harry and Flitwick approached. "Why, Severus," called
Flitwick cheerily, "where is your second? Oh, dear, I suppose you had some difficulty finding one. I can't think of
any staff members who'd back you on this. Not even Sybill," he said, nodding to the stands, where the garishly-clad
divinations teacher was enthusiastically waving a Gryffindor banner, heedless of the number of times she'd predicted
an early and gruesome death for Harry.
"I don't need a second to deal with the likes of Potter," sneered the Potions Master. "I've been studying the art
of combat since before he was even an idea in his father's perverted little mind. He'll soon learn that it's much more
than striking heroic poses."
"I've fought for my life more times than I care to think about, Snape," said Harry, quietly. "Can you say the
same? Terrorizing Muggles from behind a Death Eater mask doesn't count."
Before open hostilities broke out on the sidelines, the headmaster interrupted them. "Now that the ritual insults
have been uttered, gentlemen, if you would?" He ushered both combatants onto the duelling field and cast Sonorus so
that the crowd could hear everything clearly. "Ladies and gentlemen, if I may have your attention please? Thank you.
We are gathered here today for a very unusual occasion. Regretfully, today you will be witnessing a duel between
wizards," he announced to those watching. "You will see that it is not a simple, stylised fight – it is a brutal and
bloody war between two people."
"As well it should be," Harry grumbled quietly, unaware that the entire crowd could hear him. "No one does
that to Hermione and walks away without a scratch."
Dumbledore looked at him for a moment before continuing. "This duel is to the first injury that requires magic
to allow it to heal. It will not be stopped for broken bones or severe cuts. It will, in fact, be possible to bleed to death
without having the duel stopped." He looked at Harry and Snape. "Is there no possibility of working this out without
bloodshed?"
Harry spoke. "Since he's not going to stop punishing me for being the son of his nemesis from his school days,
and since Hermione, if she survives, is going to continue to take abuse for the dual crimes of falling in love with me
and for being a Gryffindor, I think that your answer is no. I don't give a damn about me, but I'll go through anyone
who harms her."
"As if you can, Potter," Snape snarled. "I have years of training on you."
"Most of it dark, Death Eater," Harry growled back at him. He could hear the gasp flow through the Quidditch
pitch, and smiled to himself. That should screw up his chances of keeping his job. He moved to his mark and stood
loosely as Snape walked to his.
Dumbledore sighed. "Since this duel can not be prevented, I shall permit it to begin." He conjured a feather.
"When this feather strikes the ground, the duel can begin." He pulled an object from his pocket, released the feather,
and portkeyed away.
Harry kept an eye on the feather, which seemed to be taking an inordinately long time to reach the ground, but
kept most of his attention on his opponent across the way. Finally, the feather stopped moving, and Harry whispered
"Protego," as he put all his attention on the feather for only a moment. That seeming moment of inattention sparked
Snape to movement, as he yelled "Expelliarmus!"
The spell bounced off Harry's shield. Harry returned volley with the same spell, and heard Snape's
"Protego!"
Harry's spell blew through Severus Snape's shield and threw him back about thirty feet as his wand shot
past Harry's head fast enough to make a whistling noise. With Seeker's instincts, Harry followed the direction that the
wand went, and was surprised to see it sticking into the wood of the stands, vibrating slightly.
Snape got to his feet, and Harry motioned toward his wand. "You might want to get it back before we continue
the duel, Severus. I refuse to fight an unarmed man." Snape walked warily past him to the post, and put his hand
around his wand and started to pull. Harry smiled and added, "Especially in a battle of wits." Snape's head snapped
around and he glared at Harry for a moment before pulling at the wand again. His efforts, however, were futile, and
the students in the stands above giggled as they craned their necks to see him tugging at the bit of ebony that protruded
from the post.
After a minute or two of this, Harry murmured, "How about doing an Engorgio on the post? Should enlarge
the hole enough to allow you to remove the wand. Then you can do a Finite and a Reparo on the post, and everything
will be as good as new." Snape sneered at him, but a moment later, he had his wand in his hand and was stalking back
to his mark. Harry cast a quick Reparo on the post just for the sake of safety.
Once back in place, Snape pointed his wand at Harry and barked out, "Incarcerous!"
Harry leapt to the side,
neatly avoiding the tangling ropes, and fired off his own Incarcerous, which caused massive cables to fire at the
Potions professor. The teacher was barely able to avoid being caught by them, diving out of the way. As both sets of
ropes disappeared, Snape fired off a spray of gravel from his wand, which followed Harry as he tried to get out of the
way. "Nice," Harry said. "Stings," he added as he tried to escape the pelting of the little stones.
"Your pain is only beginning, Potter," Snape snarled. "When I'm done with you, you'll need others to do your
school work for you. Of course, this won't change your grades, since you already have others doing your work for
you." The stones began to get larger and a bit more painful as the spray continued, and Harry's attempts at Protego
did nothing to stop the spray. "Hope you enjoyed your little love nest while you had it, though. I'm certain Miss
Granger won't find you as appealing as she once did when you're scarred and crippled for life. She's just as shallow
and fickle as any young girl is. Besides, I hear she's already sleeping with the rest of Gryffindor."
Harry stopped fighting the rain of stone, standing straight as a cold rage flowed through him. "Reducto," he
hissed, and the beam, far brighter and wider than usual, burst from his wand hard enough that it pushed him
backwards. The barrage of rock and gravel suddenly ceased as the stones exploded in midair, and there was a loud
shriek from inside the resulting cloud of dust.
"Zephyrus" whispered Harry, with a very small wave of his wand. A sudden gust of wind whirled the dust
away, to reveal Snape, covered with blood and twitching weakly, on the ground. He was now missing his wand. And
wand hand. And lower arm. And a good portion of his upper arm, not to mention a small chunk blown from his
ribcage near the junction of arm and torso. There were gasps from the stands as the students saw what Harry had
done. "Oh, that's gotta hurt," he murmured as he looked at the bleeding professor. He quickly threw a stasis around
the professor and murmured, "Accio Snape's wand." When nothing happened, he looked around. The stand behind
Snape had a rather large hole through the cloth hanging that hid the stand supports from view. There was minor
structural damage to that stand, so he cast another Reparo quickly.
He looked around for the Headmaster, and saw him approaching from the sidelines. Madame Pomfrey ran past
them both and fell to her knees beside the wounded professor. "I think I win, Professor Dumbledore. Honour is
satisfied. The law will deal with the rest of it. Now, if you don't mind, I need to go to the hospital wing and see how
Hermione is doing." Without waiting to see whether or not Dumbledore heard him, he simply left, heading for the
hospital wing, and no one even thought about stopping him.
Back to index
Chapter 21 by Kinsfire
Chapter 21
Chapter XXI
Harry reached the level of the hospital wing just in time to hear a bellowed, "Geroff her, yeh soddin' pervert!"
This was immediately followed with the sound of something impacting a wall – hard. Harry ran the rest of the
distance to find Hagrid holding Draco Malfoy up against the wall, his feet kicking frantically a good two feet from the
floor. The Slytherin's pants and an open pocket knife were on the floor next to Hermione's bed. The blanket was
pulled down around her feet and her skirt was lifted, exposing the fact that Malfoy had sliced off her knickers.
Harry spun to face the Slytherin prefect, unaware that fire was dancing in his eyes. "Well, Malfoy, it looks like
you didn't go to the duel, or else you'd have learned that you just put your life in your hands. Do you remember why I
duelled your Head of Household? For insulting her. Just for insulting her. What you've done is far worse than that.
Twice now. Oh by the way, you'll note that I came in here under my own power. Snape should be in here …" As he
spoke, Madame Pomfrey and the others appeared in the room via Portkey. They hurriedly levitated Snape's blood-
covered body into a bed, and while Madame Pomfrey began to work on healing the professor, the others turned to look
at Hagrid, Harry, and Malfoy. "Ah, there he is now." Harry looked smug and crossed his arms across his chest as
Draco paled at the sight of the mangled Potions master.
An eyebrow rising dangerously high, Dumbledore asked, "Would it be too much, perhaps, to ask for an
explanation as to why Mister Malfoy is being held against the wall in his current semi-disrobed state?" His voice did
not sound amused.
"Li'l pervert was gonna do sumthin' to 'ermione!" Hagrid said. "I went ter the loo, and came back ter find 'im
with 'is pants on the floor, and 'er skirt lifted! 'E didn't get a chance ter do anythin', though."
Harry nodded. "I heard Hagrid bellow and came running in after hearing something impact the wall. I assume
it was the ferret I heard impacting. Can I cover her up again, or do we have to wait for the Aurors or something? I
don't know what the rules are for this …"
"The use of pensieves makes investigation of a crime scene remarkably easy, Harry. Enough of us have seen
this to provide an accurate recreation, so you may cover her now." Harry did so, smoothing Hermione's skirt down
and drawing the covers up protectively.
Dumbledore met Draco's eyes, and stared at him for a long moment. Draco tried to look haughty, but being
half naked and in the spotlight, not to mention having been caught red-handed, did nothing for his ability to properly
look affronted.
After a long moment of silence, Dumbledore turned and said, "It is within your rights to challenge Mister
Malfoy to a duel, Harry. Given the results of your last one against a far more skilled opponent, I would request that
you not, if only because you likely would kill him without even trying." As Harry opened his mouth to respond,
Dumbledore added quickly, "I ask this not because I feel he can be redeemed, but because I feel that his death would
be too quick in such a case. And I don't think it should be on your hands in any case." Rage flickered across the
headmaster's features momentarily. It was an expression none of them had really seen before, and for a moment they
caught a glimpse of the true power of the wizard who had killed Grindelwald. "It is bad enough what I have done to
you in the past under the best of intentions, but for a student to attempt the rape of a fellow student is utterly
reprehensible. The absolute minimum response for what he has attempted will be expulsion."
Harry hadn't thought it possible for Draco to become any paler, but he was proven wrong. He decided to add
to the discomfort of the Slytherin by simply adding, "I won't duel him, Professor. He'd be too easy. Besides, I got
Snape. I think that this one should be handled by her parents."
"What, the Muggles?" Malfoy gurgled, somehow managing to be contemptuous even in his disadvantaged
state.
"The Wizards. At least temporarily, as powerful and as skilled as Hermione and I were at the end of last year.
And a hell of a lot angrier. If you're given a choice, I'd take Doug. He'll just kill you. Helen will … well, there's a
reason that Kipling said that the female of the species is more deadly than the male." He smirked and turned to
Hagrid. "He really never got anywhere with her?"
"Pants were hittin' the floor when I got back. No time ter do anythin'." Hagrid looked abashed. "I'm sorry,
'arry. I shoulda held it longer, or sumthin'. She almost …"
Harry patted the man on the shoulder, having to reach up to do so. "Hagrid, don't beat yourself up over what
might have happened. He never had the chance to rape her because you were here, so there's no worry, okay?
Nothing to forgive." He walked over to Hermione and sat down next to her, smoothing her hair and stroking her
cheek gently. His fingertips tingled oddly as he did, and he scowled. "Professor Dumbledore, can you tell if there's
been a spell cast on her?"
As Dumbledore turned his attention to Hermione, Malfoy became, almost impossibly, even paler, and suddenly
lost bladder control. The headmaster passed his wand over Hermione several times and spent a few moments
inspecting the resulting auras before looking to the Charms professor and asking, "Filius? Double-check my findings,
will you?"
Flitwick walked over to Hermione and passed his wand across her several times, murmuring as he did, finally,
he looked up at the headmaster and said, "Conceptigenus Puer, right?" At Dumbledore's nod, Flitwick looked at
Draco and said, "Well, Mister Malfoy, it seems as if you have earned space near your father. This spell proves not
only attempted rape, but line theft. I wonder if you remember what the old penalties for that are?"
Malfoy apparently did. He fainted.
Hagrid grunted. "I guess I can let 'im down now, eh? My arm's gettin' a bit tired." He threw Malfoy
carelessly onto a nearby bed, and Flitwick bound him there with magical cords.
Harry chuckled and said, "Now you have to figure out what to do with him. Whether he simply goes to
Azkaban, or the Grangers are set upon him, is up to the rest of you. I'm going to stay here at Hermione's side until I
simply can't anymore, for whatever reason."
Doug put his hand of Harry's shoulder. "What do you want done with him, Harry?" he asked quietly. "She is
your wife."
"And your daughter before that. I got first crack at her tormentor on staff. I defer to the people who brought
this wonderful woman into the world as to his disposition," he replied, poking a thumb at Malfoy. "If you want him
dead, I will support it. If you merely want him in prison, I will support that as well. If you want him freed, well, then,
I trust you, but I'd at least ask for your reasons."
"No worries about freeing him, Harry," Doug growled. "I'd not complain about getting a chance to kill the
little bastard, but then he'd never learn from his mistakes."
"Not like he learns anything normally," Harry muttered. "Hasn't learned in five years not to annoy us on the
train ride home. Doubt he's learned much of anything else."
Dumbledore stepped into the conversation. "I believe that, while we await the decision as to what we shall do
with him, he should be placed under house arrest. We shall be requiring Aurors under any circumstance, but I would
prefer not to release Mister Malfoy to them until we learn whether or not Narcissa Malfoy will perform as her husband
did. If so, releasing him to the Ministry's care would be a very large mistake." He snapped his fingers and Dobby
appeared immediately.
"Master Dumbledore! What can Dobby do for you?"
"We will be incarcerating Mister Malfoy in the dungeons. Can you see to it that one of the holding cells is
prepared for an occupant?" Dobby nodded and disappeared. Looking at the confused expressions on Harry's and the
Grangers' faces, he said, "This was a castle before it was a school, and it is over one thousand years old. It still has
cells for holding prisoners. Hogwarts simply has not used them as such since before I was born."
Dobby reappeared quickly and said, "Dobby has prepared a room, sir. It is clean and dry, and even warm.
Mister Malfoy will do well there." His eyes sparkled. "May Dobby be permitted to care for Mister Draco while he is
down there?"
"I don't see why not," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling. With that, Dobby took possession of Draco and
disappeared with him.
"Were his crime not so egregious, I would almost feel sorry for him," Albus said with a sad smile.
"Why?" Helen asked.
Harry blinked for a moment, and then burst out laughing. "Oh my God! Draco has their old house elf taking
care of him! The tables have been turned!" He fell forward gently as he laughed.
As the Grangers continued to look confused, Dumbledore explained. "House elves are bound to the service of
a household." He raised a hand as Helen opened her mouth. "There is more to it than your daughter has yet
discovered, but I agree with her that they are too often ill treated. Therein lies the beauty of this scene. Dobby was, at
one time, the Malfoy family's most prized house elf. He was, however, so mistreated by the family that he attempted
to keep Harry from school the year that the … did Hermione ever tell you of the basilisk?"
"Yes. She was so worried for Ginny and Harry." Helen laughed. "Harry more than Ginny. I think if we'd
taken the boy in that summer the way Hermione hinted that we should, they'd have been soul bonded for several years
now."
"Excellent," the headmaster replied, eyes sparkling with mirth. "Dobby knew that something would happen,
and that it was aimed at Harry, so he attempted to keep Harry from Hogwarts that year. To make a very long story
short, Harry ended up freeing Dobby from his servitude to the Malfoy family. I know full well that, when Harry and
Hermione leave school next year, I will be losing two fine elves from Hogwarts employ." He smiled at Harry.
"I'll have to tell her that once we wake her up," Harry said sadly. "Let her get used to having house elves
around our property, once we find something." He paused for a moment. "Sir? You mentioned a spell that was cast
on her. What was it?"
"The spell is Conceptigenus Puer. It guarantees that the woman it is cast upon will be impregnated and give
birth to a male child. It is usually used to ensure the birth of a first-born son, for those who care about successions
and such. The Malfoys have had an extraordinary string of first-born sons for a number of generations, so I am not
surprised he knew of it. I am afraid, my boy, that you and Hermione will be waiting for some time to consummate the
marriage, given her preference to avoid a child until she has finished Hogwarts."
"I take it that it can't be broken, and that it lasts until I make love to her next? Or until somebody has sex with
her, anyway?" At the headmaster's nod, he tilted his head in thought. "Sneaky little bastard, isn't he?"
"What do you mean?" Helen asked.
"We swore that she wasn't pregnant. So, he comes in here, casts that, and then rapes her. If he were smart
enough to clean up after himself, he might even get away with it. The dates are close enough that it looks to the
general public like we're liars, or too stupid to count days. Also, when the child comes out with light brown or blond
hair, possibly with the same grey eyes? It's obvious that she was cheating on me, so it would be equally obvious that
I'd have to dump her, and yet, since we're married, the child is officially my heir. So he would be breaking up the
marriage and forcing me to accept a Malfoy as an heir. This was his thought process, I'll bet. Of course, he doesn't
know that I know Hermione well enough to know that it would have to be rape to get her to open her legs for him.
And any child she bore in her body I would love. It's not the genes that makes the child bad, it's the upbringing. But
what's this line theft thing? It must be bad, the way Draco reacted."
"To the pureblood families, lineage is everything and the firstborn son inherits almost everything by
primogeniture. The old laws reflect this," said Dumbledore. "Line theft occurs when someone does exactly what you
described, to deliberately 'steal' an inheritance by making sure the firstborn is misbegotten. Theft of a line was
considered a crime against the whole family, and the Wizarding community at large, where rape was merely a crime
against the woman and her husband. The penalties are correspondingly severe." The elderly wizard laughed softly.
"At the very least, Harry, Draco stands to forfeit one-quarter of the Malfoy fortune to you merely for the attempt. It
would have been one-half, and eventual inheritance of the whole by the offspring, had he succeeded, as he would have
been forced to accept the child as his heir as well. I cannot think that that was his intent."
"No, I don't think he was thinking that far ahead. Then again, he never does. He certainly wouldn't have
wanted to destroy his family's whole 'pureblood' thing by having his heir borne by a Muggle-born witch. One-quarter
of his fortune, eh? Daddy's not going to be pleased about that. Not sure I want it, though. I have enough. And
Hermione's the injured party anyway."
"Then let her decide. Or give it to charity. If you don't do something with it, it will revert to the Ministry's
general funds, and I'm sure Minister Fudge would be happy to give you an Order of Merlin or something for the
donation."
"Fudge? Can't have that, either. I'll think of something, then." Harry shook his head, and wavered a little in
the chair. "Whoo, I think this has taken quite a lot out of me. I am feeling rather tired. Anyone mind if I take a little
nap?"
Flitwick looked a little uncomfortable as he said, "Actually, sleeping may be a bad idea, Harry. It could be the
beginning of you slipping into a coma. One of you has to be conscious if there's to be any hope of re-establishing the
bond."
"What can I do, then? How long do you think it will take you to find an answer, if there is one?"
"I don't know. That's the problem." The Charms professor shrugged apologetically.
"So if it takes you a week, I'm supposed to remain awake for one hundred and sixty eight hours? What if it's
ten days? Two hundred forty hours without sleep? Might as well just kill me now!" He shook his head. "I'm sorry,
professor. Stress, adrenalin, and worry. I understand your worries, but this feels like a normal tiredness to me, not the
'I really need to heal but I'm too stupid to listen to my body' type that I'm all too familiar with. I think it's just
fatigue."
Doug Granger spoke up. "How about this? We put Harry in bed with Hermione – as much contact as possible
can't be bad in this situation – and Helen and I keep an eye on our children. If it looks as if Harry is slipping into
something other than a normal sleep, we Ennervate him and get the rest of you running here. Does that address your
worries, Filius?"
"Yes it does," the professor replied. "That should do nicely." He looked to Harry. "This might embarrass you
to hear me suggest it, but your father-in-law is correct. In fact, it might do well for you both to be undressed. Skin to
skin contact can't possibly hurt in this situation. We'll move the bed into a side room to give you some privacy."
Harry nodded. "Makes sense." He looked to her parents. "You lift and I strip her, or vice versa?"
Helen smiled. "Given the power you were showing out there, Harry, it might be an idea to let Doug lift and me
strip her. You might imbed her in the ceiling by accident." She laughed at the statement, and Harry smiled.
"True. She might hurt me after she wakes up if I did that. 'Harry, could you explain why I'm upside down in
the ceiling of the Hospital Wing up to my shoulders?' Don't think she'd like my explanation." He chuckled, which
was followed by a prodigious yawn.
While Doug and Helen were seeing to the arrangements, Madam Pomfrey approached Harry and touched him
gently on the arm, directing his attention to the other occupied bed. "If you don't mind, Harry, I've got Professor
Snape stabilized so he's in no danger of bleeding to death or dying of shock. But if I'm going to do any serious repair
work, that stasis you cast needs to be removed – I can't get through it or take it off."
Harry looked over to the bed. Snape's black robes had been cut away from his body and the blood cleaned off,
exposing a pasty-white, poorly muscled chest above the sheet drawn up to his hips for modesty. Harry hadn't thought
it possible for the man to be uglier than usual, but in this condition, he was. Madam Pomfrey had trimmed torn flesh
and bone splinters away from the gaping wound at his lower left side and finished removing the mangled left arm
cleanly at the shoulder. Both wounds were shimmering with spell protections to prevent bleeding and infection, but
were otherwise unbandaged. Harry's stomach lurched at the sight of what he'd done – it was different looking at it
now than it had been in the heat of the duel – but he felt no regret for it. Snape had got what he deserved. "It won't
hurt him to stay that way, though?"
"No, it won't, but -"
"Then I'm sorry, but I won't take it off. Hermione and I are going to need peace for a while, and we won't get
that if he's awake. Let him play Sleeping Beauty – or Sleeping Ugly in his case – until all this is over and I have the
energy to deal with him." The tone of his voice made it very clear that his mind was made up.
Madam Pomfrey pursed her lips in disapproval, but Dumbledore shook his head slightly at her. "Let it be for
now, Poppy. The boy is right, no harm will be done if Severus remains in stasis for a time."
Hermione's bed was shifted to a small private room and another bed placed alongside. Dumbledore effortlessly
transfigured the two beds into one double, and while Doug turned back the covers, Helen rapidly undressed her
daughter. Harry stripped and climbed in under the blankets to hold Hermione in his arms as best he could. "Oh love,
please come back to me. I love you too much to lose you now." He felt tears building in his eyes, but he quashed
them ruthlessly. He gently kissed her cheek and drifted off to sleep.
He was awakened an unguessable time later to the frantic but upbeat whisperings of Flitwick and Hermione's
parents. It was below the level of understanding, but loud enough to capture his attention. He groaned quietly and
opened his eyes. "How long have I been out?"
"It's Friday morning, Harry," Doug said gently. "You slept clear through the rest of Thursday. It's about ten
o'clock."
Harry dragged himself out of the bed long enough to attend to necessary functions. When he returned, he
looked at Hermione, still lying still on the bed. "I finally understand that phrase, and just how disturbing it is." He
kissed her cheek and looked at the others before explaining. "Still as the grave."
Flitwick nodded sagely, and then looked hopefully at Harry. "Harry, I may have found a solution, but it's
likely to be a bit distasteful for you."
Harry's looked was guarded. "What is this distasteful solution?"
"You know about fairy tales, correct? And how the versions that most people know these days have been
made much gentler than the originals?"
Harry looked at his teacher. A part of him wanted to be just like fifth year and rail and rant over not being told
immediately, but the part of him that was rapidly becoming an adult told him that Flitwick was uncertain about his
reaction, which was why he was approaching it that way. "Which fairy tale, sir?"
"Sleeping Beauty," the teacher replied with a wince. "It was something you said about Severus that gave me
the idea, as a matter of fact."
Harry unfocused and began to think, speaking as he did. "Sixteen year old girl; deep sleep; prince kisses her
awake. But that's the clean version. Hmm, sixteen year old girl, deep sleep; what in hell did the prince do to her?"
He scowled, realizing that he'd never heard of the original version's outcome.
Helen spoke quietly. "The prince was something of a rapist. He finds a sleeping girl and decides to have a
little fun. She gives birth nine months later. One of her babies sucks out the splinter that left her asleep and she wakes
up."
Flitwick picked up. "The old tales often have cores of truth, especially where magic is concerned. In the old
days, there was not such a separation between our world and the Muggle world, and many Muggle stories contain
magical concepts. This sounds like an extremely corrupted version of one of the methods of repairing a damaged soul
bonding. Harry, the likelihood of your bond being repaired was roughly twenty-five percent before Malfoy entered the
picture. The magic he cast upon her is likely, if nothing else, to have raised the likelihood of your repairing the bond
to fifty percent or perhaps more. The magic behind Conceptigenus Puer prefers to keep the baby safe." He
shuddered. "We should all give thanks to Hagrid for stopping Mister Malfoy from completing his plans. The
possibility is there that she could have reforged a soul bonding, but with him."
"She'd have … oh boy, I'm glad it didn't happen, not only because it means she can still bond with me, but
because she'd likely have killed herself rather than remain telepathically linked to him."
"Yes, well, there is that." Flitwick consulted a scroll of complex Arithmantic equations which meant
absolutely nothing to Harry – yet – but he was quite interested in looking at them later, after Hermione was back.
"Actually, with your increased magical strength, the chance of re-establishing the bond is even greater, but I couldn't
say how much greater. I don't even know why your strength is so great at the moment. Although it should have
dropped when the bond was severed, it seems to have increased. But we don't even know why it increased after the
ritual for Doug and Helen, so I can't even guess at it now. We can just be thankful that it is so."
It suddenly struck Harry what was required. "So I effectively have to rape and impregnate my own wife in
hopes of reforging the bond between our souls, if I'm understanding you properly."
"Is it really rape, son?" Helen asked. "From those squeals we heard during the summer, I think it's fairly
obvious that she enjoyed your ministrations."
"That may be the case, but she has absolutely no say in it this time. I decide to do this to her, and she gets to
wake up and find out that she's carrying my son. I'm glad I relinquished my claim on that son of a bitch, because I'd
kill him very, very slowly for putting her through this."
Doug put his hand on Harry's shoulder. "Harry, look at it this way. Do you think Hermione would rather wake
up to find herself being made love to by her husband, or having Draco Malfoy atop her? You needn't answer that, by
the way – we all know the answer."
"Still, it feels like rape to me. She doesn't get a say in the matter until after it's too late. Are you sure there's
no other way?"
Flitwick rolled up his scroll again and sighed. "There may be, but I don't know how long it will take to find it,
or whether or not it will be possible with her comatose. Most of the other ways of establishing a soul bond or healing
a damaged one are rather complex. This one has the advantage of being fast, simple, and possible. What's more, if
you try it and it doesn't work, it won't automatically prevent any other process from working, so we can always try
something else."
Harry nodded slowly. "All right, then. I'll do it, but I'll tell you this – if she blasts me across the room for it, I
want you all to promise that you will let me heal normally, not through magical means."
Helen grinned at him. "I agree, Harry. Of course, none of us can make that decision for Hermione, so you'd
have to convince her not to heal you after she's awake. And you know how likely that is." She walked over and pulled
Harry into a hug. "We love you, Harry, and we know that this is being done to save her life. She'll forgive you. Hell,
she may insist on more, since she'll insist that she missed the beginning, so she'll want a replay of the events that led to
her pregnancy. Expect that you'll be spending a lot of time … ahem … 'strengthening the soul bond', if you catch my
meaning." She whispered in his ear. "And given your skills with that particular activity, I can understand her
feelings."
His eyes widened. "Must you remind me of that?" he asked, managing to blush with a pained look on his face.
"I can't help it, Harry," she said, putting her hands to her stomach. "We'll always have a reminder of that
night."
"I am so torn about that, you know. There's the part of me that absolutely hates that I did that. I still feel as if I
cheated on Hermione." He raised a hand to stop her. "I know, I know. But this is the emotional side talking,
remember? It's stupid that way. But then there's the fact that doing what I did means that you and Doug get the one
thing you've wanted more than anything – to give Hermione a sibling. I'm torn as to how to react."
"Simple," Doug responded. "You make love to our daughter, waking her up and reconnecting the soul bond
between the two of you. Hermione will give birth a month or so after Helen, and we all go on to be deliriously happy.
As I said – simple."
"Well you help explain to her that …"
"Harry, what you are doing is not rape," Helen said forcefully. "It seems it because she's unconscious at the
moment. If she doesn't become an extremely willing participant the moment she realizes what's happening, I'll teach a
class in the nude." She crossed her arms under her breasts. "We know how likely I am to do that."
"Dashing the hopes of every male old enough to understand why the difference between boys and girls is nice
to think about," he said with a soft laugh. "It's just that I hate …"
"I know," Doug said. "But you're doing it to save her life, Harry. Think of it that way. You wouldn't do it for
any other reason."
"I suppose so," he said. "Well, is there a specific time or date that it has to be started, or is this a 't'were best
done quickly' sort of scenario?"
"Well, the sooner you start, the better off you are," Flitwick responded with a blush, "but if you decide to take
all day to properly … well …"
"If I decide that I want to take all day loving her, that's fine?"
Flitwick nodded. "The intensity of your emotional state will help, too. It should be love, not just, er,
notjustsex."
"It could never be 'just' with her," Harry said sadly. "Could you … could you all just leave us alone now?"
They nodded and left the room slowly, but not before Helen took his face in her hands and kissed him gently on the
forehead and then the lips.
"Thank you for trying to save my daughter, Harry. Think of that last one as coming from her, in advance."
She smiled at him as his eyes unfocused for a moment, and the sheet covering him gave a strong hint as to the
direction that his mind had wandered. "Keep that thought – it'll help." She left the room with the others.
Harry conjured a screen barrier between the bed and the door, just in case someone came bursting into the
room. He turned to face the woman that meant everything to him, and smiled. "I hope you can forgive me for this,
Hermione. I love you too much to let you just fade away because of that slimy bastard Snape's dark spells." He pulled
the covers away and found himself reacting to her – even knowing that she was unconscious, she still had a figure that
caused blood flow problems for him at times. He lay down on the bed beside her, pressing his growing erection
against the warm skin of her thigh. "Oh my God I love you, Hermione."
He began by gently kissing her unmoving lips, a tear slipping down his face and onto her cheek. He kissed her
again, more urgently, slipping his tongue between her lips, torn by frustration and desire and despair as she neither
prevented him nor responded. She still tasted like Hermione, honey-sweet with a hint of spice. He licked at her
earlobes, which normally would have drawn a giggle from her, and kissed his way down her neck to the collarbone,
lost in reverence, as if she was merely asleep and he was trying to tease her awake. "Hermione … wake up, please.
Come back to me, love."
He thought he felt something different in the way Hermione's chest was rising and falling. He backed off to
see, to be sure, and he swore he saw her turn her face toward him just a fraction, as if she knew precisely where he
was, even with her eyes shut, and wanted him to continue.
He kissed her again, scattering butterfly kisses across her face, her forehead, her cheekbones, her eyelids, and
felt a faint flutter of lashes beneath his lips. He brushed his lips down her arms to her hands, suckling lightly at the tip
of each finger, and gently grazing each palm. He trembled with hope as her fingers curled, ever so slightly, to lie
along his cheek. He placed her hands at her sides again, and turned his attention to her full, beautiful breasts. As he
brushed his fingers very lightly across her nipples, he was both surprised and pleased to watch them fill and harden as
they always did when he paid them some attention. He teased them for a time with his fingers before moving his
mouth to the nearest one and surrounding it. As he gently worked his tongue and fingers across the rosy tips he so
loved, he felt them harden more in response until the darker areolas were crinkled and her nipples stood like little
peaks. A little part of him yelled "Yes!" inside his head, but the majority of his mind seemed to be seeking her
somewhere. "Stay here with me, Hermione. Don't leave me. I need you too much."
He continued the soft torture until he felt a slight shiver run through her. It was becoming impossible to be
gentle, and he worried at those tempting nipples with his teeth, suckling hard but trying to keep himself under control
since he couldn't use her moans to gauge whether he was doing it hard enough or too hard. He had his arms around
her waist, and yes, the pace of her breathing had quickened. He could feel it. He let his fingers slowly glide down her
stomach, feeling it quiver as his fingers crossed the flesh, and let those fingers seek one of their favourite places – the
soft folds of her sex. He was delighted to discover that she was, while still unconscious, delightfully wet. He gave her
nipple a very gentle bite, which drew a soft sigh from her. He looked up in surprise and said, "Hermione?" There was
no response.
He decided to move lower with his tongue. She always seemed to enjoy this, but she was usually so sensitive
by the time they got to this stage that he couldn't do it for long. He was going to take his time now, and if this didn't
get a reaction, nothing would. He spread her legs carefully and slid his face closer to his goal, finally reaching out
with his tongue and teasing the hard nub he knew was waiting for him. He heard a slight gasp from her, although she
didn't seem any closer to consciousness. He didn't stop, he just kept on licking and nuzzling and suckling at her,
tasting her rich nectar, and reached out with his mind again to try to find her. There seemed to be something in his
range, so as he worked her body carefully, trying hard to give her an orgasm, his mind sought the presence of hers.
And then she was shuddering, quivering beneath his tongue. He felt the touch of a hand against his forearm
where it rested along her thigh, and he heard a sound somewhere between a sigh and a moan. He didn't stop, but kept
at it, sliding two fingers gently into her moist heat. He felt her clutch at the intrusion, and then strong pulses of her
muscles surrounding him, rhythmically, and he heard a sound that was stronger than any so far. It wasn't his name,
not yet, but it was almost as good. "Oh oh oh aaaaaahhh." He could feel her thighs tensing against him.
After a moment she stopped shaking and relaxed again. "I know you're there, love. Please wake up. Please,"
he whispered, and climbed her body carefully, finally pressing the tip of his surprisingly insistent erection against the
place his tongue had been so delightfully teasing moments before. Her expression had changed now, her mouth was
slightly open and he could see her pink tongue, and her cheeks were slightly flushed. Her breathing was fast and
shallow. She was there, dammit, but she wouldn't open her eyes, not even when he began to slide into her as slowly
as he ever did, giving her time to adjust to his length inside her. As he sank into her, he felt the presence again, and he
reached for it. It seemed to glow in his mind with a golden colour, and it reminded him strongly of the Snitch. As he
began his gentle thrusts into his wife, he found himself searching for the presence as if he were in a Quidditch game.
The sense of flying his spirit always seemed to have when with her was as strong as ever, and he began to joyously
chase the presence. The physical world seemed to fade away as he flew after his Snitch. Darting this way and that, up
and down, side to side, he didn't notice his lovemaking gaining intensity. Nor did he hear her soft gasps in time with
his thrusts. Finally, as the physical world tried to remind him that he was about to come and it really would be nice if
he were paying attention, his 'hand' reached out and caught the Snitch. He thrust inside her one last time and felt her
clutching at him again, pulling him ever deeper into her, and he came in spurts of pure joy inside her, holding her
tight.
And he felt her arms slide around him in return, and her hips thrust up against his, and he heard her cry out,
"Harry!"
Then he was kissing her again, frantically, in between mumbled endearments and repetitions of her name, and
thank all the gods that ever were, she was kissing him back, and her hands were running up and down his back and she
wrapped her legs around him. "Hermione?" he groaned. "God, you're awake – Hermione!" And it was quite a while
before either of them was able to say anything more coherent than that.
"Harry, my love – you can wake me up from unconsciousness that way any time you want to!" she panted at
him some time later.
Are you really there? he asked, as if still unbelieving but wishing with all his heart for it to be so.
"Yes, my beloved husband, it's really me. I think I was … away for a bit … but we still have our soul
bonding. He didn't break it."
Harry gritted his teeth. "Um, actually Hermione, yes he did. You went completely limp, and I brought you to
the Hospital Wing and Professor Flitwick couldn't detect the bond anymore, so a couple of hours later I hospitalised
Snivellus. We duelled, and I – well, I managed to beat the crap out of him for what he did to you."
"Why? Because of the spell?" she asked, concerned. "You could be expelled, Harry!"
"Not likely. The duel was completely legal and above board, and Professor Flitwick was even my Second.
Snape had severed our Bond, which could be seen as attempted murder, since it stood an excellent chance of killing us
both. I couldn't feel you anywhere, and I was so frightened. So alone. I knew I couldn't make it without you,
Hermione. I'm not whole without you."
She blinked at him for a long time without speaking. Finally, weakly, she said, "Harry, you aren't supposed to
be able to renew a Bond like ours. Or there's only a very small chance. How … how did you manage it?"
"Sleeping Beauty," he said simply. "It's why I was making love to you." He winced, realizing that there was
still something painful he needed to tell her. "That brings me to something else, beloved." He began to pull out of
her, but she locked her legs behind him. "You're pregnant with our son."
"Since when?" she asked in shock.
"Since I just came inside you. When I had the duel with Snape, we left Hagrid to guard you. He, um, had to
use the facilities, and when he came back, there was Malfoy with his pants around his ankles, getting ready to … well,
to do something vile to you. Don't worry, he never touched you," he said as Hermione recoiled in horror. "He never
touched you, I swear! But he had cast a spell to make you get pregnant with a son the next time anyone had sex with
you. He intended that to be him. But Hagrid body-slammed him into the wall before he could do anything other than
drop his pants and slice off your knickers."
"But then … then Flitwick found out that the best way to get you to wake up would be to make love to you.
And that meant that I'd activate the spell. I didn't see any other choice, but…" He dropped his head. "I'm sorry that
I've taken something else away from you. You wanted to wait until after Hogwarts for a child, and now you'll give
birth just after we leave our sixth year."
She surprised him by squeezing him tightly, both with her arms and the muscles still surrounding him. "Hmm,
give birth at my age, or never get older? Tough choice, Harry." She kissed him deeply, opening the link fully to let
him feel her emotions, and he gasped as the warmth of her love washed over him. "I choose to live my life with my
beloved husband, taking what comes our way. 'For better or for worse' is how that goes, isn't it? If that means we
have a son when I'm sixteen, then we have a son at sixteen. We're married at sixteen anyway." She kissed him again,
and an impish look came to her face. "Harry, you're still inside me, and I don't remember the details of how you
woke me up. Could I get an instant replay, do you think? Just so I know how it all happened, of course."
"Oh, of course. Just so you remember." He hugged her tightly, and she squeezed his cock again, getting him
well on the way to being hard again.
"Hey, at least we don't need to use contraceptives anymore," she chuckled in his ear.