The Burning Pen

Dark Lady
by Ruth Solomon

The story content is adult in nature and can contain graphic sex and violence.  Those under the age of 18 are asked to leave this site immediately.  You are not welcome here.  The author is not responsible for those under-aged who view these works.

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 6 ~ Hermione to the Rescue

Snape sat on a small, hard bed in the dungeon beneath the Ministry of Magic. He was in a holding cell, behind bars and dressed in an orange shirt and pants, both emblazoned with “Property of the MOM.” He plucked at it, and looked at his ring with a sigh. The Aurors had tried to remove it, but couldn’t, not even with magic.

”It is my envoy ring,” Snape explained.

After several attempts, then checking to see if it registered as magical, they left it with Snape, doubling the wards on his cell and placing a guard outside of it. He’d been there for three hours now.

Snape had asked to contact Albus Dumbledore but was refused and told he could speak to someone after he was arraigned on the charges of sedition, treason and aiding and abetting a known criminal. There probably would be additional charges, such as murder, mayhem and malicious behavior as a kind of overall charge for Death Eaters in general.

He sighed and looked down at the ring.

”Not much good, are you?” he said to it softly.

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Hermione, who was in the treasure room reading the names of those who paid tribute to Voldemort, suddenly frowned and looked up. Something wasn’t right with her envoy.

She could feel him.

Taking the ledger with her, she left the treasure room, which was loaded with an unconscionable amount of galleons, and returned to her throne room. Draco was in there, reclining on a couch and eating a few grapes. He’d convinced Hermione to let him clean up the dead House Elf because the remains were making him sick to his stomach.

She let him do it, then made him give her a pleasant little round of oral sex. Draco performed well, but didn’t like it because she tasted a little of sulphur. She then created him a comfortable couch and table so he could rest but be near her if she needed anything. He was still in his boy toy gear and Gryffindor collar.

Hermione swept by him, moved to the center of the room, then made several motions with her hands. A blaze appeared floating before her. Draco sat up as Hermione made another motion and the fire froze in place. But it was still red and pulsing. She peered into it, and snarled.

She whirled on Draco, her eyes blazing.

”Don’t go anywhere,” she hissed at him, then burst into fiery sparks, disappearing completely, little embers falling to the floor and dying out without a trace. The throne room smelled slightly of brimstone.

”Damn,” Draco breathed, getting up and walking over to the place Hermione had been standing. “I wonder what that’s about?”

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Fwoosh!

A huge furl of black smoke filled Snape’s cell, flames flickering out of the midst of it.

The Auror who was guarding the wizard spun, his wand pointing at the dense black cloud

”Hey! What are you doing in—“

Suddenly he froze solid as Hermione stepped out of the flames, her palm facing him. She turned to look at Snape, who was sitting on the bed waving away the smoke. The smell of brimstone was strong. Hermione turned to him, narrow-eyed and furious.

”What are you doing locked up?” she demanded.

”I was ‘doing’ my duty as you ordered. The Minister didn’t take to your request well. He said I was a Death Eater and arrested me. There is also the little matter of your being a criminal at large that makes him feel you have no right to make any demands,” Snape replied calmly.

Hermione clapped her hand over her face.

”Oh, the medi-witch I hit with my food tray. I knocked her out and took her clothing when I escaped St. Mungo’s,” Hermione said in a muffled voice before dropping her hand. “Why didn’t Dumbledore get you out? Even if I hadn’t known, surely he would have come and vouched for you.”

”He didn’t come because I wasn’t allowed to contact him. I have to be arraigned first.”

”Arraigned?” Hermione hissed a puff of smoke exuding from her flared nostrils. “What are they trying to charge you with?”

Snape counted the charges off on his fingers.

”The charges against me as an individual are aiding and abetting a known criminal—I assume that’s you—sedition and treason. I’m sure I will get a few blanket Death Eater charges to boot,” the Potions master said. “As soon as they round them all up and put them on trial.”

Hermione swelled, literally, becoming crimson red and increasing in girth and height before she calmed and returned to normal. It was very quick, but Snape stared at her with his mouth opened anyway. It took quite a bit of surprise to make the wizard’s jaw drop, but Hermione was nearly as high as the ceiling before she deflated.

Snape was playing Devil’s Advocate, and for more than Hermione, who was about as close to the devil as he cared to get at this moment. But he was angry at being arrested, although he appeared calm and reasonable about it. He was also very vindictive. Inciting Hermione against Titwilder was just his cup of tea. He knew telling her the Minister wanted to round up the Death Eaters would piss her off even more than his getting arrested.

“All right, all right,” Hermione said, pacing back and forth. “I have to think about this.”

Suddenly, the door leading to the dungeon opened and another Auror entered. He stopped when he saw his frozen comrade and Hermione pacing back and forth in the cell, Snape watching her as she muttered.

He drew his wand and rushed forward, snarling a hex, but—Hermione carelessly flicked a finger toward him from behind her back, not even looking at the wizard, and he too froze in place.

Snape looked at the blue wizards.

”Er—Hermione—are they dead?” he asked the pacing witch.

”No, and stop talking to me while I think,” she snapped at Snape.

Snape thought she’d better think faster or it was going to get very crowded out there.

Finally, Hermione stopped pacing.

”All right, I’ve got it. I can’t take you out of here, because that would make you a fugitive. I need to see if that medi-witch I injured would take reparation from me. A small chest of galleons should be sufficient. You’ll go to her after I get you out,” Hermione said.

”And how do you plan to do that without making me a fugitive from the law like you are?” Snape asked her.

Hermione pulled Voldemort’s ledger from her pocket and gave Snape a perfectly evil smile.

”Persuasion, of course,” she purred. “I’ll see you later.”

With that, Hermione disappeared in a shower of sparks and the scent of brimstone. At least she didn’t make smoke when she left.

The Aurors instantly came to life, running toward Snape’s cell, wands drawn. Snape simply blinked at their trembling wand tips.

”Where’s the smoke?” the first Auror demanded.

”Where’s the witch?” the other Auror hissed at Snape, who arched an eyebrow at them.

”I have no idea what either of you are talking about,” the dark wizard replied.

The Auror’s both lowered their wands and looked at each other.

”I saw smoke and flames.”

”I saw you frozen and a witch inside his cell.”

Both Aurors looked at Snape who looked back at them calmly. No, they must have been mistaken. If someone or something had been in the cell with him and gone, he would have been gone as well.

”Just relieve me. I think I need a pint and a good rest,” the first Auror said, walking past the second and out the door without looking back.

The second Auror pulled a chair from against the wall, set it in the middle of the room and sat down directly facing Snape. He didn’t know what the hell was going on here, but he couldn’t report something he had no proof of. He’d just keep his eyes on the wizard.

On everything, in fact.

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Odius Titwilder trundled out of the bathroom, dressed in a green striped nightshirt and matching night cap. His wife was already asleep in the bed, her hair in pink curlers and her back turned toward him. The current Minister of Magic made a few weak attempts at touching his toes, but his round belly got in the way. He then stretched and climbed into the bed to lie beside his wife, who snorfled and moved away from him. Used to this reaction, he picked up his wand and used it to lower the torches.

He was excited. Tomorrow the Prophet would announce the rounding up of Death Eaters and the Dark Lord’s death. Hermione was mentioned as getting the drop on the wizard as if by accident. Unfortunately, she was mentioned as a criminally insane witch. Everyone knew the criminally insane could do things because of their madness that others couldn’t, even feats appearing to require great power when it was usually just dumb luck. He wasn’t giving that witch an ounce of credit, and the sooner she was locked up, the better. Imagine, wanting to replace the Dark Lord. He supposed she thought she deserved tribute as well.

Well, he’d give her tribute all right. Three square meals a day in Azkaban.

He turned on his side, away from his snoring wife and closed his eyes, intending on dreaming of Death Eater after Death Eater being dragged through the Ministry doors and scores of voters chanting his name.

It was going to be beautiful. Just beautiful.

Fwoosh!

The Minister sat up straight in his bed as a huge plume of fire-flecked black smoke appeared before his bed. He grabbed his wand in terror as Hermione appeared, her eyes red and glittering as she stared at the wizard.

Titwilder was so frightened, he didn’t think twice about the hex he used on this invader with eyes as red as those of the Dark Lord.

”Avada Kedavra!” he shrieked, bathing Hermione in the green light.

She stood there, grinning at him as her hair and robes whipped around her. Strangely, Titwilder’s wife didn’t move. The Minister stopped for a moment before he tried again.

”Avada Kedavra!” he cried, the light once again covering the witch, who now had her head cocked and eyes narrowed.

The wizard stopped again, breathing heavily, sweat beading his forehead and wetting the edges of his night cap.

”Avada Kedavra! Avada Kedavra! Avada Kedavra!”

Hermione sighed, walked up to the side of the bed and plucked his wand out of his hand.

”You could do that until you can’t lift your arm and it won’t make any difference. I’m Hermione Granger, the new leader of the Death Eaters,” she informed the trembling wizard, who looked up at her wide-eyed.

”No one survives the Killing curse!” he gasped at her.

Hermione stared at him for a moment, then cuffed him hard on the side of the head. He squealed like a piglet in terror.

”Don’t be stupid,” she hissed at him. “Now, firstly, I’ve heard that you refuse to grant me autonomy over the Death Eaters. They belong to me. I got them fair and square. It seems to me that you believe I am not as powerful as the former Dark Lord.”

Titwilder couldn’t speak.

”I assure you I am, Minister. I could turn you to ash with just a flick of my finger. But, as pleasant as that would be, it would be murder, despite you trying to kill me right off the Bludger. I’m so far above you in the magical chain, you might as well be a dust mite.”

Titwilder’s mouth worked as if it were full of hard chewing gum.

Suddenly, the entire room around him burst into flame. The walls, floor and ceiling, tongues of fire licking about, but not burning anything. Still, he could feel the heat. It was as if he were in the midst of Hell itself. His wife snored peacefully beside him.

”Now that I have your attention, Minister,” Hermione said in a business-like voice as she whipped out the ledger. “I’d like to inform you that I have no problem resorting to blackmail in order to gain your cooperation. You are one of several Ministry officials that regularly contributed to Voldemort’s coffers. It’s all here in this little book, the dates, the amounts, the accounts the tributes came from, everything. I imagine this information would be very interesting to your constituents. Not to mention the wizarding public. How many years do you think a Minister of Magic would get for consorting with the evilest wizard known to the wizarding world? At least life, if not death, I’m sure.”

Titwilder went pale in the firelight, his perspiration not totally heat inspired. Hermione continued.

“I can turn this book over to Headmaster Dumbledore and he would see it reached the proper authorities. You can’t control him and I’m certain he wouldn’t appreciate your duplicity, Minister. Now, does the welfare of a few Death Eaters really mean that much to you? I don’t plan to kill them—well not all of them, only a few that are guilty of murder. The murder of Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley. The Ministry would have put them to death anyway, and at taxpayer expense. Surely you don’t want to lose your position, reputation and freedom in one fell swoop simply because you were trying to cover your arse? I can understand it, but I’m not sure everyone else will.”

Terrified, and not by his surroundings, but at the shame and scandal this witch, if that was what she truly was, could cause him, the wizard reconsidered his stance. He could lose everything.

”Perhaps I was hasty in my approach to your request, Miss Granger,” he managed to get out.

”That’s ‘my Lady,” Minister. You will continue to pay tribute to me,” Hermione hissed at him.

His head nodded like a bobble doll.

”Of course, I’ll pay it—“ the Minister said, then he saw how narrowed Hermione’s red eyes were. “I’ll even double it.”

”Very good,” Hermione said, closing the ledger with a snap and depositing it back in her pocket. The flames died down immediately and the bedroom was undamaged, although the Minister was soaked in sweat. “Now, you will release my envoy immediately, with an apology.”

”Immediately,” the Minister promised, sitting up on the edge of his bed and wiping his soaked brow.

“I also plan to see if the medi-witch I assaulted will be willing to accept a monetary reparation for the injury, pain and suffering I inadvertently caused her during my escape from the hospital. If she accepts it, I expect the matter to be dropped.”

The Minister had a feeling the medi-witch would accept the offer, if she wanted to keep drawing breath.

”I will also undergo an examination to prove my mental state is relatively sound,” the witch added.

”That is acceptable, my Lady. I’m sure an understanding can be reached,” Titwilder said ingratiatingly

”Good,” Hermione said, looking at him a bit thoughtfully. She was still angry at what he had done to her envoy. “Your name is Odius Titwilder, isn’t it?”

”Yes. Yes it is, my Lady,” the wizard said weakly.

”Hm. I think I’ll leave you a little reminder so you’ll know this wasn’t a dream. Something that lives up to your name, until I’m cleared of all charges. Good-bye, Minister Odius.”

The wizard watched as Hermione disappeared in a burst of sparks, his heart pounding. What did she mean she’d leave him something that lived up to his name?

Suddenly his wife popped up, wide awake, her nose wrinkled as she looked at him scathingly.

”Odius! What the hell is that stench? It smells like excrement! Did you foul yourself?” she hissed at him, drawing the quilt over her nose in disgust.

He blinked at her, unable to form a suitable answer as the stink slowly filled the room.

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A/N: lol. Well, Hermione is persuasive, isn't she? Thanks for reading. ***

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