He comes at night

Harry thinks she’s asleep. He calls her name a few times, shakes her by the shoulder. Hermione doesn’t respond, she knows what’s coming next. He carefully pulls down her pajama pants, walks his hand between her legs, turns her around. Roughly and unceremoniously invades her bosom. He makes a few hard thrusts, moans, and clutches at her shoulders, cumming on her stomach. Hermione peeks out one of these times to see what’s going on and sees his red glowing eyes. The Dark Lord invades Harry’s thoughts more and more often, taking complete possession of his body at night. And in the morning, Harry no longer remembers what he did to her at night. She doesn’t question him, doesn’t try to hide or defend herself. She fears and tolerates, speculates, and thinks about the ways to stop him. But every day Harry gets rougher and tougher. Hermione hides her bruises, heals her bites, cries at night, unable to adjust and figure out what to do next. Ron still isn’t around, he’s gone, abandoned them, and now the Horcrux is driving Harry mad little by little. He won’t give it to Hermione, and squeals as if he’s being killed, should she even try to hint at destroying it. One night, Harry doesn’t show up. He goes away following the glowing haze, taking her wand with him. Hermione follows him, sneaking around, feeling her heart pounding in her throat like that of a frightened kitten. She hides behind the trees and loses sight of him. Hermione finds Harry and Ron later. Ron sees ghostly images of Harry and Hermione wriggling in hot caresses. They call to him to surrender, to put down the sword. And he gives in. Slips the locket around his neck. And turns to her. Hermione runs, but Harry and Ron are faster. They catch up, knocking her down, undressing and raping her, penetrating every space. Their eyes burn with red fire. They are no longer her friends. They are the receptacles of Voldemort’s soul. Godric Gryffindor’s sword cleaves her stomach, shreds her chest, crushes her skull. Hermione remains a dark brown stain on the white snow, and Harry and Ron leave. Dawn is coming. A bright scarlet stain glistens in the East like blood on light lace underwear. The rays of the rising sun glide over the remains of a young woman. A wild beast approaches and begins to dig through the entrails, eating the still-warm liver. Harry and Ron return to camp without ever regaining their sanity. Now there are three incarnations of Voldemort roaming the world.