For WIP Wednesday, here's an excerpt of a current additional severitus i've been additionally working on for a while. This one is rather dark, which will essentially be a DH rewrite.

...The Locket.

They had only just destroyed the locket when they ran.

Now some of his memory was coming back to him. Harry’s jaw tensed. They did not get very far at all.

The dust in the air had built enough to irritate his lungs. Harry coughed from the lingering dust. Every time he shuffled, he kicked up more of it and it felt like razors down his throat.

“Hey, I think the little shit is awake.”

Harry froze immediately. He held his breath. A deep, gravely voice penetrated the silence from outside of the door. A hasty shuffle could be heard by several pairs of boots.

With a rattle of the lock, the heavy door swung open, casting a harsh glow into the cell. The first time he was able to look upon it, his attention was more focused on the silhouette of three figures in black, hooded cloaks. The painful light was harsh, instinctively narrowing his eyes into splits.

There was an immediate scuffle when the first one lunged at him, and all he could smell was the scent of rot from his teeth, and remnants of old whiskey. The man grabbed Harry by the front of his torn shirt and slammed him against the rough stone wall.

“Get your fucking hands off me!” Harry spat. His eyesight was blinded by the dull light, which felt like the sun burning his vision.

The obscured man chuckled, “You’re stuck here, boy. And there’s not a bloody thing you can do about it.”

“Where am I?!” Harry demanded. He needed to know something. Anything.

“The Dark Lord only wants you alive. That means we have permission from him to do what we wish until you are delivered.”

Harry remained silent. It almost felt as if his heart had lodged itself in his throat, yet he remained paralysed by fear.

He barely had time to think, when the figure’s clenched fist suddenly clocked him in the jaw, and he felt his lower lip split instantly. He heard the other two chuckle darkly with every blow, until the other finally released him from his hold. Harry sunk to the floor, feeling his head throb and ache.

“The Chosen One? Pathetic.”

The other two moved forward, and the next thing he felt was a sharp kick to his ribs. He cried out in pain and tried to shield the rest of his head from the additional assault. When they were finally done with him, they departed the freezing cell and slammed the heavy door behind them.

Harry was drenched in darkness once again as he lay back on the cold floor, bleeding now in new places.

There was nothing he could do.

He remained still; helpless. A single tear ignited by pain rolled down his dirt-stained cheek as he brought his knees up to his chest.

When they tried again the next morning, it worked out much better for both of them. Hermione was sore when she woke up, but she insisted that the best way to work out sore muscles was by using them again, and Harry was in no mind to disagree. With almost no hesitation and much more confidence, the comforter ended up on the floor, and Hermione was a little surprised at how dirty (in a good way, she promised) she felt after Harry had finished inside of her, so he agreed to start breakfast while she took a shower. He got dressed (which unfortunately included putting the locket back on), cleaned the sheets, and made the bed, scooting it to where the bunks normally were, because there was no point in sleeping separately ever again as far as Harry was concerned. He was still cooking when Hermione came out of the shower in fresh pajamas and wrapped her arms around him from behind, resting her head on his shoulder and kissing his neck.

“Not enough, huh?” he teased.

“What can I say? You may have made me insatiable. Give me a break, Harry. I haven’t had a proper orgasm the entire time we’ve been traveling and you can do a much better job than I can.” She ran a hand through his hair, but otherwise didn’t make any further moves to initiate anything.

Hermione knew that sex changed relationships, but after last night and this morning, the only thing she regretted was waiting so long. She felt so emotionally connected with Harry now that she could only imagine how much stronger they’d be fighting together. It excited her to think about, and she couldn't wait to get outside and duel again. But right now, all she wanted to do was keep this piece of domesticity. She loved it, and as they were eating, she couldn't help but lean her head on his shoulder. His arm slipped around her waist.

"Maybe we should just stay here, Harry. Grow old," she mused.