An Uninvited Wedding Guest

Warnings: All warnings for this story refer primarily to this chapter. Please, beware that there is abuse, torture, character death and a bit of language.

When Mr. and Mrs. Weasley entered the kitchen in Harry's house a while later, they were so tired from lack of sleep the previous night that they didn't notice the abysmal atmosphere between Harry, Hermione, Ron and Ginny.

"When can we return home, Dad?"

"Not for some time, Ron." Mr. Weasley rubbed his eyebrow and sighed. "No visible damage is apparent on the house, but we couldn't detect any magic either. So we must all stay here meanwhile."

"Strange."

"Why?" Hermione and Harry failed to see anything strange, much less unsafe, about not detecting any spells on a home. To them, lack of damage and lack of spells translated to lack of danger.

"Magical houses are always charmed." Mrs. Weasley sat down and poured her husband and herself a cup of tea. "Transfigured furniture, enlarged cupboards, changed wall colour."

"You refurbish by magic?" Hermione was amazed.

"Often. And repair too."

"So if we can't detect even spells we placed on the house ourselves, that must mean that the Death Eaters are trying to hide something that they did to it." Mr. Weasley sipped his tea.

"Kingsley and Tonks managed to focus their magicmeters enough to see a large strong mark placed around midnight last night. Its nature isn't very harmful by itself. Kingsley says that it is in slightly uncomfortable range. But we couldn't say what it turns into when triggered, and hence cannot assess the danger until we break the Anti-Detection Wards." Mr. Weasley tiredly sighed. "It might take a while."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hermione, come with me." Ron stretched out a hand to his girlfriend with sparks in his eyes. She took it with a sensual smile, and they quietly sneaked out from Bill and Fleur's wedding reception.

Given the war time, the wedding was surprisingly large. Fleur insisted on glamour, and Bill was determined to give it to his veela bride. She was only part veela, but he was fully enchanted. Hence, the Order of the Phoenix had to grant security, and at the late hour all members were easily distinguished from regular wedding guests by uncommon soberness.

Ron and Hermione watched Tonks as she patrolled around the reception area and waited until she walked up to Lupin. They met for a chaste kiss, but when Lupin tried to pull away, Tonks slid her arms around his neck and deepened their kiss. Lupin glanced around before he committed fully to cherishing Tonks' inviting mouth. He caressed her lips with his tongue and gently bit them. Tonks' hair burst in change, and Hermione breathlessly watched the rainbow colours slide down the length of her hair in waves of growing passion. She experienced waves of her own as Ron's hand found its way to her chest, pinched her nipple and caressed her breast.

She leaned to his touch and moaned, "I want you, Ron."

"Come."

They ran further into the dark, hazed by too much butterbeer and lust, until they stopped, panting, in a small hidden alcove. They crushed into each other's arms, their lips meeting in a fierce kiss. They hungrily tasted each other, finally giving in to the desire that had burned them from the inside the whole day of meeting half-dressed, faces flushed from hurrying, bare shoulders of Hermione's dress robes, tightness of Ron's robes and stolen intimate touches.

Ron's robes were too revealing, his erection blatantly evident whenever he saw Hermione. He needed her. He was intoxicated. How could he have survived so many years next to her without touching her, holding her? He actually suspected that his mother had gotten him those damned robes on purpose, to keep him composed and behaving. He was taking dose after dose of Deflating Draught to avoid his mother's suspicion of the extent of her youngest son's maturity, until Hermione was concerned that he might overdose and never recover. Well, if she was so worried, she was about to deal with the consequences. Ron hadn't taken the Draught since the ceremony started, and his erection was now pressing hard against Hermione's belly.

He traced her neck with kisses, eliciting sweet moans from Hermione. He held her pressed tightly against him and slid the strip of her dress down her shoulder, tracing its path with his tongue. She rocked her hips forward to meet his hard cock. He exposed her breast, and she moved her hand to his buttocks to ease his access and arched back. Ron sucked her nipple fiercely, caressing the small of her back with one hand and roaming across her ribs to tease her other breast. He freed it and stepped back to admire the view. Hermione whined at the loss, but decided to play the game. She slid her hands up her hips, shifting her weight from leg to leg slightly, and slowly brought her palms up to cup her breasts. Her cheeks were slightly pink, her swollen lips bright red and her shining eyes deep brown. Ron could not stand it. He rushed to her and attacked the clips holding her robes to her form. He did not finish.

A white little terrier interrupted them.

'Mum is looking for you! Return!'

Hermione was coldly unamused by the cheerful dog, whereas Ron openly gritted his teeth and groaned.

"I bet this message made her deadly happy! She surely could've died from bliss. 'Mum is looking for you!' 'Mum is looking for you!' That unfucked bitch! That must have been such an easy Patronus to conjure!"

"It's your sister you are talking about."

"But she interrupts! And she relishes it! I want you. I want you so much. I don't care anymore what my sister does or with whom, as long as I can make love to you." Ron grabbed her shoulders, and pulled her closer to him.

"She is trying to help. Don't make it harder than it is. Your Mum." Hermione slid her hand down his back, across his arse, and moved towards his groin. Ron closed his eyes and groaned with expected pleasure.

"Am I the one making this harder?"

"Yes, you are. Now, take this." Hermione's hand found his pocket. She stepped back and handed him yet another vial of the Deflating Draught. Ron grunted in frustration, cupped her hand with the vial in both of his, blew on the sensitive skin on her wrist and pulled her close once more. He planted a chaste kiss on the valley between her breasts, whispered, "I'll be back," and covered her chest with her robe.

"I'll dress myself rather." Hermione shivered. "You are driving me insane. Just take the potion and get back. I'll be right behind you."

Ron knocked the contents of the vial in, took a deep breath, and disappeared towards the lights.

Hermione watched his silhouette blend in with other people, embraced herself and sighed. Another interrupted attempt. So much for making love to Ron. She shivered and rubbed the goosebumps on her upper arms. Without Ron, she was chilly. She felt a slight breeze from beside her and reached back to cover her shoulder with her hair.

Her hand brushed against some fabric.

She startled, turned, and saw a hovering, black-hooded figure in a white mask.

She screamed and reached for her wand.

Two things failed to happen.

No voice came from her throat.

And she had no wand.

"Too late, sweetie." The Death Eater laughed harshly as he waved her wand in front of her.

"Silenced, my dear." He flicked his wand towards her and laughed. "Silenced, restricted and at my disposal. You hot little chick. You must be soaking wet. Let's make some use of it if he deserted you like that. Let's make this duty a bit pleasanter."

He threw Hermione's wand into the dark, ripped her robes open, and shoved his hand between her legs.

"Yesss. Ready," he hissed.

Hermione could still move, but her limbs were heavy. So, so heavy. She strained her muscles to lift her arms and push him away.

"Oh, sweetie wants to fight. Yesss. Fight. I like it rough."

Hermione wanted to run. To make a dive for her wand. It must be somewhere close. She fought to lift a leg, but it was too heavy, and she lost her balance. He fell with her, grinning. She was slow. So very, very slow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Professor McGonagall entered the full kitchen back at Grimmauld Place.

"Hermione regained consciousness at St. Mungo's. More than by her injuries, she was threatened by extreme exhaustion. The Healers say that she will recover."

"Thank you." Ron's eyes filled with tears as all his pain and guilt rushed to the surface. He had returned to search for Hermione after she hadn't come back to the wedding, only to find her at the same spot. Naked. Bleeding. Unconscious. Professor McGonagall took over and strictly prohibited Ron to accompany her to the hospital.

"Physically, at least." Minerva McGonagall felt her own grief pressing her chest and prohibiting her to breathe. "St. Mungo's refrains from Memory Charms until their patients recover enough to decide for themselves to what extent they want to have their mind altered and in what situation they want to find themselves in after the procedure. As it is, Hermione refused to let anyone tamper with her mind when she awakened. She has full recollection of what happened to her until she fainted."

"My poor, brave girl," Mrs. Weasley sobbed. "My poor, brave girl."

Faces of others were similarly downtrodden. Lupin tightly held Tonks and placed gentle kisses on her grey hair; Arthur Weasley stood behind Ron and squeezed his shoulders; Hagrid blew hard into his huge handkerchief; and Mad-Eye Moody took out his magical eye and slowly polished it.

"Can I visit her?" Ron hoped. He needed to see her. He wanted to tell her he loved her, to let her know he was sorry for letting that happen to her, to tell her that he still wanted her.

"I'm afraid not, Ron. She is hysterical even if male Healers are in her room, let alone if they try to approach her. She will need time."

"Tomorrow then?" Ron didn't let go.

"Much longer, I'd say. Weeks, perhaps months," Professor McGonagall clarified.

"But we were planning to leave right after the Apparition tests in two days to... to..." Harry managed to refrain from revealing his search for Horcruxes even in such distress.

"If you must go, then go without her." Professor McGonagall saved him from confusion, deciding not to press the matter of Harry's intentions again.

"But we need her with us!" Ron sounded desperate.

"Leave her behind. Let her recover. Please," the stern, strict, firm Hogwarts Professor of Transfiguration pleaded.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"My Lord, you wished to see me." A Death Eater knelt before Lord Voldemort in a subordinate, respectful position.

To return the polite greeting, the Dark Lord flicked his wand, and a stone flew from the pavement into the Death Eater's face with such force that it flipped the man in a somersault.

"Give me a report of your duty last night, Yaxley." Voldemort's slit nostrils flared.

"I patrolled the blood traitors' wedding, My Lord. A young couple came out, and attempted to fuck, but didn't."

Voldemort extended his wand and held it at arm's length. Yaxley watched his fingers in horror, his face twisting with pain. His nails snapped off one after the other, and he clutched his hands in his armpits, trying hard to suppress his whimpers.

"And?"

"The bloke left the chick in the alcove half naked. I silenced her, restricted her, and gave her a lesson, – My – Lord." Yaxley clutched his throat. Voldemort suffocated him with tender circles of his wand until his face turned purple.

"A lesson?"

"I fucked the bitch, My Lord, and left her dead."

Voldemort pointed his wand at Yaxley's groin, his trousers vanished, and a ring appeared on his cock, semi-hardened from the choking sensation.

"She is not dead. You were thinking of your own pleasure and failed to verify."

The ring tightened.

"You not only failed to search for me when I first disappeared sixteen years ago, but you've betrayed me again now."

The ring tightened more.

"My Lord, I didn't..."

"You failed to bring me the prisoner."

The ring snapped shut.

Yaxley yelled in agony as his cock fell off. "I didn't know you wanted captives, My Lord!"

"You failed to bring me Hermione Granger!"

All Yaxley's hopes for survival drowned in realisation.

"Crucio!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hermione lay in a hospital bed, strangely content and apathetic. She realised that her calmness was only and exclusively a magical reaction, but she didn't care. One of those potions that the Healers kept pouring down her throat must have been responsible for it. Yes, she remembered everything. Yes, she still felt dirty, worthless, hateful. But she didn't care now. The potion detached those feelings from her consciousness and attached them to some other character that was still within her, but not quite herself.

She had even managed to endure Ron's visit a while ago.

Professor McGonagall said he had been adamant about coming to see her. He said a lot of nice things that she didn't listen to. As a matter of fact, she didn't really hear them. She was concentrating so hard on using her logic to fight the swelling, nauseating emotions of having Ron next to her. She loved him. Why the urge to throw up?

It had been she who had sent him away. It had been both of their desires that drove them past security. It had been her lust too that interested the Death Eater. But then, directing the guilt to herself was so unbearable that she couldn't deal with Ron coolly. She loved him.

And she sent him away.

She could see the pain in his eyes as she cut short his proclamation of love and told him to leave. She could see his despair when she yelled and got sick despite the Calming Draught as he tried to hold her hand to persuade her.

She used to love Ron dearly in her previous life.

In this new life she had nothing.

Just this potion-induced dumb emptiness lightly penetrated by guilt and hate.

Hermione opened her eyes as she felt rather than heard a surreal sound. Immediately she wished she had kept her eyes shut. She had seen another Death Eater's Patronus. She didn't want to be reminded of Death Eaters. Ever again. It was sure to deliver a message to her. She didn't want to hear it. She certainly didn't want to hear what Snape had to tell her. Yet, she reached for her wand and retrieved the Patronus message.

'Miss Granger, Dark Lord tortured Yaxley to death. I'm sorry to say, he didn't die because of what he did to you, but because he didn't bring you to the Master.'

Strange message. A consolation from Snape. Somehow it had managed to lift a little bit of hate from the other person within her. She pondered how queer Snape must have felt when he made himself ultimately happy about the words 'I'm sorry' as she drifted to dreamless sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Thanks to my beta, KD, for her suggestions and support. This chapter is meant to be intense and I hope I succeeded. Your opinions would be very appreciated.