Title: Geometric [1/?]
Rating: Overall story rating Mature, this chapter G.
Pairing: Harry/Charlie/Hermione, brief mentions of past Ron/Hermione and Harry/Ginny
Summary: In the end, they forget that the ones that who won the War for them are the ones that they scorned.
Genre: Dark Romance
Author's Notes: This first chapter is pretty much romance free, but it sets up the story for the rest of the tales, which will have much, much threesome lurve.
Warnings: Er, Dom!Harry, Dom!Charlie, Sub!Hermione, ConstantlyBitching!Ron, but later in the story.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything, but am borrowing Charlie, tied up in my basement. shortitude
hath laid claim to Harry.
x-posted to hp_innumerous
and some of the other fanfic places.
He listens to the drone of voices that fill the castle, and Harry Potter feels alone.
He's sitting in a rarely-used hall, his skinny legs splayed over the floor, and he feels waves of nausea crash over him.
How will they ever look at him the same?
He knows now that he will have to kill more people than Voldemort. Death Eaters, to be sure, but still- they're people. How will he be able to look Hermione in the eye? Ron? Anyone?
He's sad, and filled with secret, burning shame, because part of him- most of him- wants to destroy the Death Eaters, watch them suffer and bleed and scream under his hands.
'I thought I'd find you here,' she whispers, and he jumps a bit, because she walked in silently. She crouches between the space of his legs, and looks at him in the eye.
'What's wrong?' she asks, and Harry averts his gaze.
'I'm a horrible person,' he whispers, unable to look at her.
'Harry,' she says patiently, and he trembles, because her voice is filled with love. 'Harry, we've been over this- we know you have to kill Voldemort.'
He looks at her, and his eyes are red, though neither of them are sure if it's because he's sad, or angry. But her face is so filled with understanding that Harry feels the irrational urge to confess.
'I'll have to kill others, you know,' he says sadly, picking at his fingernail bed.
'I know, Harry,' she says kindly. He shivers, because he knows she'll recoil at his next words.
'I think-' he chokes, 'I think I want to kill them. Not have to, but want to. To make them suffer.' He begins to stand up, only to stop when he feels a cool hand on his chest, freezing him through his thin shirt. He looks up, and Hermione is staring at him, with love and compassion- but something else shining darkly through. She leans closer to him, until their noses and foreheads are touching, and she looks at him through long, dark lashes.
'You think I don't?' she asks seriously. His wide eyes grow larger as she smiles, almost bitterly.
'I'll have to kill people too, Harry,' she whispers, and her eyes grow dark, 'and sometimes, in my dreams- always in my daydreaming- I like it. They don't deserve to live, Harry, and I'll far from hate you if you wipe them all off the earth.'
It's then he knows that she'll always be by his side. So he grabs her, and holds her tightly, not letting her move, and feels a strange sense of power and strength as he holds her in his death grip. He feels her slim hands grip his wrists, and when he tries to loosen his arms, she pulls them back, as if she's afraid he'll let go.
He sees Ron out of the corner of his eye, red-faced and hands clenched. Before he can ask Hermione quietly, she shifts ever so slightly and looks at him.
'I ended it,' she whispers quietly. 'He didn't care enough, you know?'
And Harry does.
Hermione is walking through the school's grounds, lost in thought, waiting for Harry to finish whatever it is he's doing, when she runs into, most literally, a person she never expected to see.
'Charlie?' she asks, smiling.
''Lo, Hermione,' he answers, smiling sadly.
'What are you doing here?' she asks, confused.
He hesitates, but Hermione has her eyes, bright and understanding, but Charlie sees what only Harry has seen before, what the rest of the world doesn't- the flash of dark understanding that says she thinks she might know, and that she understands.
'I left the Order,' he says shortly. He waits for an outburst, for anger, but she merely nods.
'You're the only person who's going to know what's best for you, Charlie,' she says, and smiles.
'I still want to fight Voldemort, though,' he adds, not stuttering when he says that
'I'm not in the Order,' she says, 'and so do I. So does Harry.' She stops, and thinks- Charlie is smart, and brave, but more than that, he knows more of the ins and outs of the Wizarding World. And Ron is too angry, still sore over their break-up, to talk to either of them. Time is running out.
She makes up her mind, and with a few words, turns the Wizarding World on its head.
'You can come with us,' she says impulsively, taking his hand and holding it in hers. 'We could use someone like you.'
'But- but what about school? And the order?' he asks, confused.
'There are more important things. I'm not going to let Harry die,' she states flatly. 'And I don't want you to die either.'
And this is ultimately the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to him, and Charlie squeezes Hermione's hand roughly.
She turns around and waves to Harry, who comes running over. 'He's coming with us,' she says, 'if it's okay with you.'
'I'd love to have you around, Charlie,' says Harry. Hermione beams, and both men look at her, thinking of how lovely she looks. Then they look at one another, but their thoughts don't change, except for he instead of she. They all blink, but Hermione brings Harry's hand over, and they stand, hands entwined, as they prepare their big journey.
In the wee morning hours, starlight spangles on the lake, and the three are still here, asleep. Hermione has her head in Charlie's lap, breathing quietly, while Harry has wrapped himself around Hermione, holding on with legs and feet. Charlie has his legs propped over Hermione's waist, his foot planted in the small of Harry's back. Charlie had brought them back firewhiskey, and they had drank to their health, and the defeat of Voldemort, and to themselves, to their inner dreams- to their thoughts of revenge and destruction- and made a pact to fight until the end.
Hermione traces a star on Charlie's thigh in her sleep, and Harry smooths his cheeks on Hermione's neck, sending shivers down everyone's backs. And when they wake, they smile, because this all feels so damn natural, and they leave, taking pets, books, and dreams in tow.
Hermione sits on Harry's trunk, being wheeled around by Charlie as they head towards Hogsmeade. She ignores the strange stares at the unlikely party. Harry leads, with Hedwig on his shoulder. Charlie follows, trundling Hermione around, and Crookshanks holds up the rear, walking jauntily as they go through the town.
And now, as they ready themselves to Apparate, Hermione picks up Crookshanks, and then sets him down and grabs the hands of the boys.
'Let's go home,' she says, and they vanish.