FicWad

Chapter 3

Note: this chapter describes rape. Rape isn't about sex; it's violently abusing another human being, if you are squicked by this skip the penseive scene. GG

)O(

Upton Stebbins scanned the post mortem on Ginevra Weasley Potter and shuddered. He didn't want to be the one to deliver this to Harry Potter. He felt bad enough having been taken down by Longbottom at St. Mungo's, now he had to be the one to bring this to his supervisor.

Harry watched the rookie from across the room. He knew he wasn't going to like whatever it was Stebbins had for him. He checked his occlumency fortifications - stronger than ever, good, let's get this over with then.

"Stebbins! Do you or do you not have that report?"

The auror hurried over to the door marked "Potter."

"Sir, you really should let someone else take this case."

"Is that your professional opinion, Stebbins?"

Knowing what was in the report gave the rookie the courage to answer, "Yes sir, it is."

Harry raised his eyebrows at that. He'd taken the younger man on as a project when another, more senior auror had declared him "hopeless." Now his stray pup was showing some spirit. Harry approved.

He took the report and scanned it for pertinent details.

. . . ruptured aorta, extensive damage to liver and intestines.

. . . greenstick fractures of the clavicle and ribs, sternum separated from ribs.

. . . extensive trauma to fetus.

Stebbins could tell when Potter read the line about his unborn child. It would have been kinder to stupefy the man and obliviate him, but then he would go through the pain of finding out all over again. The erk might be young and inexperienced, but even he could tell that Potter was hanging on by a thread.

"Mister Potter," Stebbins said, gently, "you should go home sir; we can't do any more until Mrs. Weasley gives us the penseive evidence."

Harry nodded and accepted the man's offer to escort him to the large floo fireplace. Stebbins guided him onto the bricks, then stepped back to fling a handful of floo powder, and yell"Godric's Hollow!"

Harry disappeared in a whirlwind of green flame.

His own fireplace leapt to life and disgorged him. He fell to his knees onto the hearth rug and mercifully passed out.

He found himself walking on apathway between two lush, green hills. The path curved to follow the contour of the hills. Ahead was a short stone wall, part of a footbridge across astream that paralleled the walkway. Seated on the bridge was a little ginger haired girl of indeterminate age. She looked familiar.

"Rose?" he asked, "is that you Rosie?"

The little girl looked up and beamed at him, crying "Daddy!"

Harry went down on his knees and gathered his little girl, his unborn child, into his arms.

"Its okay, Daddy, I'm fine here, isn't it beautiful?"

"Yes, Baby girl, it's beautiful."

"Mummy says we'll be here when you come back."

"Is Mummy here, sweetheart?"

The little girl shook her head, sadly.

"I gotta go, now, Daddy. See you soon, okay? Just not too soon!" she admonished.

"Can't we stay a little longer?"

"Nuh huh, we both gotta go."

She hugged him once more, then began to move away. Not walking, just . . . moving.

"Daddy?"

"Yes baby?"

"What's my name?"

"Lily, sweetheart, Lily Luna Potter."

Again that bright smile.

"I love you Daddy!"

"I love you Lily!"

"Harry!"

The harsh voice, on the verge of panic, called again, "Harry!"

He opened up his haunted eyes and saw Hermione's tear streaked face.

"Oh thank God! Harry, you were passed out on the floor, I tripped over you coming out of the floo, and you weren't breathing!"

"I'm all right, Hermione, I'm . . ."

At that point the dam burst, all the pain and grief of the past three days caught up with his unprotected psyche. He held onto Hermione like a drowning man holds onto anything that floats. He didn't cry so much as he howled. For Ginny, for Ron, for Lily, the daughter he'd never know.

"I'm here, Harry, I'm here for you. That's it, let it out, let it all out." She held him as he'd never been held as a child when he'd cried.

Neither one of them knew how long they embraced there on the fireplace rug, but when they separated, exhausted and tear streaked it was Hermione who took Harry's hands and stood with him.

"Go in there and take a shower and get ready for bed. I'm going to Mum and Dad's; I'll be back straight away with the kids."

Harry didn't question her, he just nodded and went into the bathroom, stripped off his clothes and took as hot a shower as he could stand. Years of cleaning up after the Dursleys made picking up after himself and wiping down the bathroom surfaces when he was finished second nature. He wrapped a towel around his hips and padded into the master bedroom to put on his pajamas and a houserobe.

When he emerged into the living room he saw Hermione sitting on the couch reading to James, Albus and Rose.

"All done then? Good. My turn."

Saying this she went into the bathroom to prepare herself for the night.

"Daddy?" James asked, "Are you back now?"

"What do you mean son?"

"Well, you been, um, not here."

Harry understood. Even his three year old son could tell he'd had his "walls" up.

He kissed the top of his son's head and said, "Yeah, I'm back now."

"Good. Auntie Hew-my-knee was readin'to us."

"Fancy that."

"Can you finish?"

"Sure." He said, plopping down on the couch, where he was immediately swarmed by three small bodies, "where were we?"

"If you give a pig a pancake. .." James started, helpfully.

Harry found the page and continued, ". . . She'll want some syrup to go with it."

The literary group on the couch had just finished their second choice, If You Give a Moose a Muffin, when Hermione stepped into the living room.

"God bless Laura Numeroff and Felicia Bond. Rose can't get enough of their books."

"Imagine that!"

"Prat! Who's hungry?"

"Me, me, me!" the littlest Potters and Weasley cried.

Hermione forced a smile and said,"Kitchen!"

The sound of thundering footsteps running into the kitchen was followed by a pregnant pause.

"I guess we need to supervise, huh?"

Hermione nodded.

"I'm so sorry, Hermione." Harry started.

"No, I understand now, you did what you thought you had to do. You had to hold it together for the boys, and you had to investigate wha, what /happened/." Her voice broke.

Harry moved toward her, but she stopped him with an upraised hand.

"And I know you forced your emotions into a tiny little box and threw away the key. . . but, damnit Harry, James and Albus need you, and Rose and I. . ."

"I'm not going to hide behind my occlumency anymore; I'll deal however else I can."

She nodded and flew into his arms.

"Oh God I missed you Harry, Ineeded you and you weren't there!"

"I promise, Hermione, I will always be here for you, always!"

"Daddy, can I have beans on toast?" James asked.

"Bean toe, beeeen toe!" Albus enthused.

"Sure, James." Harry smiled, "Sounds good to me too!"

"I'll need to start some macaroni for Rose, she hates beans." Hermione groused.

"Already got it Ma'am" croaked Kreature from the kitchen, "Miss Rose is already telling Kreature."

"Thank you Kreature, you are agood house-elf."

"Thank you ma'am."

"I'm so glad you're over spew."Harry chided.

"Oh please, I was so young, and as usual, I didn't have all the facts."

"Let's have a bite, shall we?"

Hermione and Rose slept in the guest room; Harry put the boys down and crawled into the queen sized bed alone for the first time since their wedding night. He'd never let on that he hadn't slept since his wife's death. Beyond exhausted he fell into a deep, troubled sleep.

The next day was the double funeral service for the youngest Weasley siblings. Mourners and well wishers passed through the Burrows all day. Harry accepted condolences and listened to people he didn't know talk about his wife and best friend for hours without end.

He gave a short, heartfelt thank-you. To Molly and Arthur, for being the parents he'd not had. And to Ron for always standing with him when things went pear-shaped, and to Ginny, for teaching him that it was alright to love unconditionally, more than that, it was essential. Like breathing.

Ron's wish was to be buried at the Hoops on Hogwarts Quidditch pitch. That way there would always be aWeasley defending the goals. His body was reduced to ashes placed in an urn and given to the Headmistress. Minerva McGonagall would later bury the urn at the southern goal, the one nearest Gryffindor Tower.

Ginny was transported to the Potter Family Vault, next to an empty bier that would one day hold her beloved husband.

Exhausted, Harry and Hermione returned to Godric's Hollow that afternoon.

"Want to stay here tonight?"

Hermione nodded.

"What is it, Hermione?"

"All those people thinking that Ron was some kind of monster. They never saw him with Rosie, or working with the kids on the pitch or listened to him wax rhapsodically about Rose and me,"she smirked as she added, "and the amateur Quidditch leagues."

"I'll get to the bottom of this, I swear!"

"I'll be ready tomorrow."

)O(

"This penseive testimony is being recorded on the third of March, 2003, at oh-nine thirty. Attending Department of Magical Law Enforcement officers are Mary Odeste Minnich, Senior Medical Officer, London, Harry James Potter, Auror First Lieutenant and Upton Stebbins, Probationary Auror. The testimony is offered by Mrs. Hermione Jane Granger-Weasley."

"Mrs. Granger Weasley, for the record, do you offer this testimony of your own free will?"

Hermione nodded. The healer handed produced a small flask which she emptied into a beaker, to which she added two clear drops from another bottle.

"Mrs. Granger-Weasley, this is apotion to relax you a bit. I am required by law to tell you that it's effects are somewhat like veritaserum in that your memories will not be clouded by, ah, personal bias."

"I understand, thank you." Hermione said and downed the potion.

"Pomegranate juice?" she asked, looking at Harry.

"I know you like it, so I had the department order some in."

She smiled, "thanks," and then leaned her head back, "it's all coming back to me now, oh . . . God, Ron?"

Hermione went quiet as the DMLE medi-witch touched her temple with the tip of her white wand and drew out the memory closest to the surface.

The witch nodded satisfactorily at the shimmering, wispy cloud, "Oh yes, this is a complete memory, no fragmentation at all. Tell me, dear, do you have total recall, what muggles call a photographic memory?"

Hermione nodded, her face contorting in fear.

The medi-witch placed a cool hand on Hermione's forehead and said, "You're here, in this room with your friend Harry, you're not in that other place. It's just a memory, someone else's memory, like a play on a stage, all right?"

Hermione nodded but looked frightened none the less.

"Madame," Harry interrupted, pointing at the memory still clinging to the medical wand.

The matron nodded and placed the wisp in the large stone basin.

"Please note that Auror Lef'tenant Potter will view this memory as will Probationary Auror Stebbins and Department of Magical Law Enforcement Medical Officer Minnich."

The verbatim quill scratched furiously on the legal scroll.

Harry pointed to the basin.

"Shall we?"

His fellow officers nodded then bent over the penseive.

They fell into Ron and Hermione's London flat. Harry had the other aurors stand in different corners so that they might catch details the other's missed. Hermione was sitting on the couch before the fire reading aloud to her tiny ginger-haired daughter. Occasionally the child would point to a picture and Hermione would say, "mouse" or "cookie"or what ever the inquisitive child pointed to.

She looked up at the clock on the mantelpiece and frowned, it read eight-fifty.

"Tripped over someone at the Leaky Cauldron again, have we?"

The sound of jingling keys at the door brought her to her feet.

"Let's just put you in with Bunny, shall we?"

She jumped a little at the sound of the door slamming open just as she put Rose in her bed with her favorite stuffed toy, a tan and white furry rabbit with long ears and an enchantment that made it purr contentedly. Rose curled around her Bunny as Hermione cast asilencing charm around the room.

Hermione closed the door gently then turned to greet her husband.

She was met with a sloppy rough kiss that tasted of firewhiskey.

"Ronald! Not so rough!"

"You know you like it!" he insisted, biting the juncture of her neck and shoulder while grinding himself against her.

"Please, baby?"

"What?"

"Gentle, be gentle." She urged as she pushed away from him.

Hermione's plea was answered in turn by a backhand across her mouth. She tasted blood and felt sharp bits of broken tooth in her mouth.

"What about what I want?"her husband roared.

Dazed and horrified the witch suffered a beating that would have left anyone else an incoherent mass on the floor. But she stood, arms raised and crossed as blows hammered down on her, trying to understand, trying to see any reason or logic for her pain.

Her husband was livid, spitting curses and screaming incoherently. Then the silence, even worse than the cursing as he pushed her into the kitchen, spun her around and forced her to bend over the kitchen counter. He shredded her skirt and knickers with ill aimed cutting curses that left shallow, bloody gashes over her legs and bum. She didn't dare move; she knew he was going to kill her.

Ron took her from behind -roughly. As he forced his rampant cock into her dry opening he summoned asmall butter crock and used its contents to coat her back passage. His thumb invaded her sphincter before his engorged member was thrust painfully into her hitherto unused orifice.

Hermione screamed in shame and agony and confusion. She knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was killing her.

There were knives on the counter, just out of her reach. She stretched out her hand only to have it painfully twisted around behind her back. She felt Ron thrust hard into her bum, heard his familiar grunt as he spent himself inside her before going limp.

He loosened his grip on her arm and hair and Hermione spun quickly, ran to the living room, grabbed the floo powder and, throwing the whole container into the fireplace screamed "Godric's Hollow!"

She'd just gotten her face into the fireplace when she felt her husband's large hands in her hair dragging her back and out. She barely managed to croak out "Help!"

Hermione was being yanked by her hair in the direction of her daughter's room.

"No!" she shrieked, and began to fight in earnest. Ron threw her down and kicked her, the toe of his boot landing painfully on her shoulder blade.

His wand was out and pointed at her as she lay on the floor in a fetal ball.

The fireplace glowed green and Ginny came flying through. She rolled as she hit the ground and came up with her wand out, menacing her brother. When she saw who it was she dropped the point of her wand just in time to hear Ron scream "Reducto!"

The blasting hex hit her at close range, spinning her around so that she landed on Hermione. With her last agonized breath she cried, "Harry. . ."

Darkness fell and the last thing Hermione heard was her husband's voice screaming "Piss day!"

Then silence.

)O(

Harry stepped back from the memory, shaken. He'd seen enough, more than enough. He knew Ron better than anyone and he knew that the man who did this to Hermione wasn't Ronald Weasley. This was no imperious curse, this was something else. He was going to find the one responsible for this.

There would be no trial.

That would require a living breathing suspect.

)O(

Author's Note: I borrowed the afterlife setting from the Elysian Fields as described by PerfesserN in his stories "Family Issue" and "Bella Rising," with his permission, of course.

If you like this story you may want to peek at "Forbidden Fruit" a tale of Lyra "Silvertongue" Belacqua and Will Parry not detailed in the Amber Spyglass, last of the "His Dark Materials" trilogy. I'd be grateful for some opinions on that particular piece.