The Downfall (гет)

Omegas were a rarity nowadays. Plenty of alphas were still born, especially in the ranks of the pureblooded, but omegas were few and far between.
Hermione hadn’t known what was wrong with her when she’d suddenly come over with a burning fever, an itchy throat and a raging libido in the middle of her and Harry’s tent that first time about three months ago. Harry had been equally clueless, pressing a cold compress to her forehead, blushing red and pushing her away as she begged him to fuck her to stop the pain. In the end, he’d warded her in the tent by herself, leaving her alone until she emerged a few days later, pale and ashamed and confused.
It hadn’t taken the Death Eaters long to work out just what was wrong with her – or right with her, the way they saw it...