Three For All
Chapter 4
By Kinsfire
The stories in this grouping have been abandoned by me, and will not be worked on again.
Three For All — Chapter IV
It was the end of October. Professor Snape was his usual charming self, and the first real Quidditch match was today — against Slytherin. When they had started practicing this year (after the party they held for Harry’s reinstatement), Harry had gotten a surprise at the first practice when Hermione came quite sedately and sat in the stands.
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He flew over to her for a quick kiss, which was certainly his right, being captain. She’d taken his glasses for a moment and cast two charms on them, faster than he could hear. "There," she’d said. "Now your glasses are in tip-top shape." He’d grinned and flown back out into the practice. It was a short time later, while he was diving for the practice Snitch that he discovered completely what she’d done. She was now standing in the stands, robe wide open, wearing absolutely nothing else. He completely lost control and nearly ploughed into the pitch.
Ron flew up next to him. "You okay, mate? You look like you saw a Veela standing naked in the stands! Admittedly, Hermione’s pretty, but I never expected that she’d cause that reaction in you."
He took his glasses off and pinched his nose. "I’m gonna die out here on the pitch our first game, I can just tell." He put his glasses back on and looked up at Hermione. Sure enough, she was still there, robe open, in all her glory. "Ron, look up at her. What’s she wearing?"
"Blouse and skirt, from what I can see. Why? Some special meaning to them?"
Harry grinned and pinched his nose again, taking his glasses off. "Ron, grab my glasses and look through them at Hermione and tell me what you see."
Ron did what Harry asked. "Holy … it’s blurry as all hell, and I can’t really make anything out, but … no wonder you almost ate pitch!" Harry put his glasses back on and looked up at her. She waved sweetly at him.
He flew up to her. "I love you dearly, my darling Hermione. You are aware that we probably won’t make it back to the castle before I prove to you exactly what you’re doing to me." He grinned. "Keep doing this and we’ll find out whether or not you can have sex on a broom."
"You can," she answered coyly. "I’ve worked out the logistics." The rest of Quidditch practice was difficult for him. But her empirical proof later that night gave him a new reason to enjoy flying.
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Her outfits changed as the practices went along, and her attempts to arouse him had a pleasant side effect — other than the love-making that tended to result from such things as her garter-belt and half-cup bra outfit. Since he needed to concentrate to have an effective practice, the concentration also affected his Occlumency lessons. (He’d gotten quite the laugh when Dumbledore had asked him how his skill had improved so greatly, he gave the man a quick mental glimpse of her most recent costume. The startled laughter was worth it — especially when Dumbledore complimented Hermione on it later.)
He’d nibbled his way through breakfast the morning of the game, as he always did — actual games made him nervous. He was sure that they always would. Hermione had stopped to talk to a teacher, and had told him she’d catch up to him shortly, leaving him alone in the hall for a moment. Malfoy chose that time to walk up to him. "Good luck in today’s game, Potter. I’d imagine you’ll be a little distracted worrying about your girlfriend, though. I was sorry to hear she lost the baby. In her job, though, children can be a real danger. Oh well, these things happen. Good luck today!"
He blinked after the receding Slytherin, and came to a quick decision. Striding purposefully toward the headmaster’s office, he was met by Hermione, who took one look at his face and fell in behind him without a word. Once in the office, Dumbledore was also struck by the look on Harry face. "What has happened, Harry?" he asked.
"Malfoy knows something, and I’m worried. Does anyone know what’s going on with Tonks right now? He mentioned that my girlfriend was worth worrying about, and that she’d lost a baby. And then mentioned her job. Up until then, it could simply have been an attempt to get me worried about Hermione. But that last comment makes me believe that he knows about Tonks. Can you check in on her, please?"
"What will you do, Harry?" Hermione asked, worried.
"Assume that he’s simply trying to throw off my game, which I’m not going to let happen. If it turns out that he knows something and that all his information was correct — well, if he had anything to do with it, then I’ll deal with him. And you needn’t worry, Headmaster. I wouldn’t even contemplate murdering Malfoy."
Dumbledore sighed in relief. "I am glad to hear that. Now go enjoy your game, and I shall begin the process of finding out what has happened to Nymphadora."
Harry thanked him and headed downstairs. At the bottom of the stairs, very quietly, he said, "Murder, no. Execution, on the other hand …"
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The Quidditch game was like none anyone had seen at the school before. While Harry's Wizard Chess skills seemed to be almost nil, his skill at captaining Quidditch had even the most diehard watchers and players in awe. Merely fifteen minutes into the game against Slytherin, ninety points had already been scored by Gryffindor.
Slytherin's beaters were getting more and more annoyed at the score of the game, and as Ginny approached the goals again, Goyle came in close and caught her with his bat. She fell from the broom as she went unconscious, and Harry went into a dive. A short distance before the ground, he swooped and caught her, then lowered her to the ground gently, into the arms of Madame Pomfrey. Goyle was looking unhappy, because that had been seen by Madame Hooch, and he was now grounded. Both teams called in their alternates, and the game continued.
If Slytherin thought Gryffindor losing its best chaser was going to turn the game in their favour, they were quickly proven wrong. In six more minute, ninety more points were scored — a goal roughly every forty seconds. The game was less than thirty minutes old, and the score was already one-hundred-eighty to zero. At the half-hour mark, Harry called for a brief time out, and spoke to the team.
"Guys? I've seen the Snitch several times, and Malfoy hasn't yet. You guys want to see just how long we can drag this baby out? I kind of like the idea of visiting Ginny in the hospital wing and telling her we won the game with over a thousand points to Slytherin's zero. I'm betting we can, too. And the angrier that they get at our tactics, the more likely they are to make mistakes. Yeah, they'll probably start going after us physically, but I think Hooch is watching even more carefully now. So, what do you say? Play until we hit nine hundred and then I go for the Snitch?"
Ron snorted. "Damn straight, Harry. That's my sister they went after. You know that was at the Ferret's order, too. I'll play all week if it's to humiliate them." The rest of the team agreed quickly, and they took to the air again.
Describing the rest of the game as a rout would be charitable to the Slytherin team. Gryffindor was stylish, Gryffindor was assured, Gryffindor was fast, but most of all, Gryffindor was pissed. They proceeded to rack up those extra seven-hundred and twenty points in less than an hour. It was only then that Harry went for the Snitch. He chuckled to himself as he realized Malfoy's standard tactic — watch where Potter is going, and follow him, hoping to get past him to catch the Snitch. You'd think he'd learn by now, Harry chuckled to himself. Potter rocketed toward the stands, straight at Hermione, and then began to pull up slightly. He turned at the last moment, and felt Malfoy shoot past him and over their heads. Harry snorted and slipped under the stands while Malfoy sorted himself out, slipping from one stand to the next. He peeked out from underneath to see Malfoy high above him, looking around in confusion. He also saw that the Snitch was about six feet in front of him. He popped out and teased it, making it shoot away, but he kept his eyes on it. As he zoomed around after it, he chuckled as he realized he could get a number of things out of the way at one time. He followed it as it sped toward the ground, knowing that Malfoy was following him. He also knew that Malfoy tended to watch him, and not his surroundings. So when the Snitch almost touched the ground and then spun madly off, Harry put in one last burst of speed and yanked out at the last second, his feet brushing grass as his fist leapt up to capture the Snitch. There was a loud crunching behind him, and he looked back to see a particularly unhappy Draco Malfoy, based on the angle that his legs and arms were in relation to his body.
As the others on his team landed to congratulate him, Harry walked over to Draco and said, "That’s what happens when you’re not careful, Malfoy. I’d offer you a hand up, but that would just be cruel." He turned and held up the Snitch to the audience, to loud applause.
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"That’s the worst loss Slytherin’s ever taken!" Ginny said from her bed. "One thousand fifty points to zero? That’s obscene!"
"Well, that’s what happens when Malfoy decides to take out one of our players. He gets us pissed off, and we decide to humiliate them in Quidditch!"
Kirke spoke up. "It was Goyle that hit her, you know."
Harry looked at him. "Do you honestly think that Crabbe or Goyle even breathe without permission from Malfoy? That was on orders from him, whether we can prove it or not."
"By the way, Ginny," Hermione said from the other side of the bed, "they dedicated the victory to you. The whole school knows that Harry let the game go on that long for the purpose of teaching Slytherin a lesson."
It was then that the headmaster entered the room with a look on his face that told Harry that he had bad news, and that he was hiding it from everyone. "Mister Potter, may I speak with you?" he asked.
"What did you find out, Professor?" Harry asked immediately.
"Tonks has been located, and she is currently in St. Mungo’s. She is not in good condition. Hermione will be permitted to visit her in a short while."
"Why won’t I, sir?" Harry asked, puzzled and just a little bit hurt.
"Because she wants no men around her, Harry. She was subjected to … I loathe telling you this, Harry, but she was abused sexually. Rather violently, in fact."
Harry went white for a moment, and then turned bright red. Hermione and Ron came over to see what was wrong, in time to hear Harry say, "Professor, it would be in the best interests of everyone involved to find an excuse to get Draco Malfoy as far away from me as possible. I am strongly tempted to execute the little bastard for his part in this, since his comment earlier tells me that he knows who was involved. Please explain to Hermione while I calm down."
He walked away, Ron following him when Hermione and Dumbledore made it obvious that this was for Hermione’s ears only. Ron got to Harry as Harry reached Malfoy. Harry grabbed a chair and sat down next to him, near Draco’s legs. "You know something, Malfoy? You played a good game out there!" He patted Draco’s leg in a comforting manner, although much harder than one would expect for comforting. Malfoy winced painfully. "You need to learn a few things about Quidditch still, but you’re getting better out there. Much better." He brought his hand down again on Draco’s leg, this time using enough force to bend it slightly, since the bones were not yet regrown. "Well, I need to get back to my people, but I just wanted to say ‘good game’." He made as if to move. "Oh, by the way, Draco. I understand your comment from earlier today. Thanks for the heads up info. It’s been dealt with — at least the first part. I’ll be dealing with the second part." He looked meaningfully into Draco’s face, and then hoisted himself upward, using Draco’s leg as a hold to push off from. Draco screamed and passed out. Harry walked away, whistling.
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"Harry, I’m afraid that I shall be forced to give you detention for your treatment of Mister Malfoy. You will be with Professor Snape tonight at seven PM in his dungeons," Dumbledore said in his office. "I can not condone the kind of treatment you gave a fellow student you knew was injured."
Harry looked coldly at Dumbledore. "Might I remind you, headmaster, who it was that gave me the information that helped you find Nypmh?"
"I am aware that it was Draco Malfoy," came the response. "I believe that he was attempting to redeem himself in some small way by telling you."
"I hope you’re right, headmaster, because if you’re not, then I will never trust your feelings again. If he was merely gloating, then I promise you that in some way or another, he will pay for what he was involved with." He stood. "I’d best find something to nosh on, because I have detention in an hour, and our Potions professor will ensure that he keeps me too late to be able to get dinner." He stood and left the room.
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By seven fifteen, Harry was scrubbing out cauldrons. He had been forced to use his own shirt, and only after he had begun had Snape informed him that it would not come out of the cloth. "Ah," Harry said simply. "So I know exactly which shirt to wear to Potions class."
"Ten points from Cryffindor for cheek," snarled the professor.
"Oh, it wasn’t cheek," Harry said, looking up from the cauldron he was finishing. "It was a statement of intent. You have cost me the use of a good shirt. It’s on record what the punishment you gave me was, so it’s not my fault that I’m using my shirt, since you ordered me to do so. Since I can’t simply run in to town to buy a new one to replace it, especially since YOU should be the one replacing it, I will wear it to Potions class especially to remind you of your detention, and the fact that you obviously wanted the shirt decorated this way." He put his head back down and continued scrubbing.
"One hundred points from Gryffindor for your insolence, Mister Potter."
Harry continued to scrub for a time, whistling as he worked, and earning another forty point loss for doing so. Finally, he looked up as he finished the last one. "So, who all was involved in raping your … ahem … ‘cousin’?" he asked quietly.
"How did you … what do you know of that?"
"She was apparently pregnant, and she was abused to the point where no one male is allowed near her at St. Mungo’s. As for how I found out — Malfoy decided to try to throw my game today off. I really need to thank him again. We’ve never done that well scoring before. His antics pissed us off so badly that we dragged the game out an hour more than we had to just to humiliate the Slytherin team." He looked directly into Snape’s eyes. "Malfoy told me he was sorry to hear about my girlfriend, and that she’d lost the baby. And that her profession was dangerous, as far as having children was concerned."
Snape looked at him for a long moment. "So Nymphadora was seeing you, and the baby was yours." He suddenly developed an evil sneer. "And what would Miss Granger say upon learning this?"
Harry snorted. "Tell her yourself. You’d never believe me if I told you."
As if that had been a cue, the door opened to show Hermione and Professor Dumbledore. Her eyes went wide with enjoyment as she saw Harry’s unclad chest. "And what have you two been doing in here?" she asked with a grin.
Snape exploded. "That will be one hundred points from Gryffindor for your insolence and insinuations, Granger!" He smiled evilly again. "At least I know one potential generation of Potters has been averted."
The sharp intake of breath echoed into the hallway. "Was Malfoy there?" Harry asked coldly. "Not Daddy Malfoy, but Draco."
Snape simply looked at Harry. "I have no intention of answering that question. Especially not to a student."
Harry’s look scared Hermione. "I am going to assume that every Death Eater and their spawn were there. I’m going to assume that it was a dark revel of some sort — torture the Auror, or some such party game in which all the participants partook of the fun." His eyes bored into Snape. "For the violation of one of the two women who give my life meaning, I will personally kill every Death Eater and spawn I find." He grinned a vicious grin. "Don’t think I won’t, either, Professor. I know about your tattoo, you know." He turned and started to leave the room.
"Potter," came the strangled voice of Professor Snape. "Yes, I was there. So were all three Malfoys, and the elder Crabbe and Goyle. A few others as well — names I doubt you’ve heard. And, of course, Bellatrix. I did not … ahem … ‘partake’, as you phrased it, but I did brew the potion that caused Nymphadora to abort the foetus. Be glad that I did, for I was able to render it unusable for … other purposes." He looked sick at the potential uses for the foetus.
Harry looked at him for a long moment. "You’ve earned yourself a reprieve. The others? Dead men and women walking."
"Harry …" began Dumbledore.
"Save the lecture, professor. Draco managed to get out of school for this little party. They raped and badly hurt a woman that I love, and forced him to abort my …." He took a deep shuddering breath. "We used contraception, but it obviously failed. That was my baby they killed, and I will have my revenge, headmaster. Draco participated. Draco gloated. Draco dies. So much for his redemption. Care to redeem yourself, headmaster? Your belief in the inherent goodness in all of us is failing miserably. You got Draco wrong — hideously wrong. Get him out of this school under whatever pretext it takes if you wish to keep him alive."
"Potter," Snape said surprisingly gently. "It would have been a boy."
He whirled back on Snape. "You think that helps?" He stalked from the room, fighting tears as he walked.
Author Notes:
Things get serious - and Malfoy gets stupid.