The Burning Pen

A New Beginning
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.

CHAPTER 60

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 60 ~ A Couple of New Leases on Life

“Here’s your papers. Keep them on you at all times,” the guard said as Henry Jugson buttoned up his standard Azkaban-issued departure robes. The wizard took the paperwork, scanned it and stuck it in his pocket.

The guard then handed him a large yellow envelope. Jugson opened it, his blue eyes narrowing as he pulled out the contents. Ten Galleons and . . .

”A wand,” the guard said as Jugson withdrew a rather nicked wand, “Not strictly attuned to you, you’ll have to buy your own eventually, but it will allow you to use some magic. You are to report to . . .”

The guard gave him an address at which was a Reintroduction house where newly released prisoners could stay until they acquired a job and a place of their own. Counseling services were provided as well. There was a cap of one hundred and twenty days of residence then the freed wizard or witch was on his or her own.

”You’re a free man, Mr. Jugson. Hope I don’t see you back here,” the guard said, nodding to the waiting Aurors.

”Come this way, Mr. Jugson,” a brown-haired wizard instructed him.

Jugson followed him out of the release room, the other Auror following. He was taken through a series of corridors, then through a huge wooden door. Jugson blinked up at the blue sky and breathed in the scent of the sea. Gulls whirled above him, their harsh cries like music.

“Free,” he thought as the first Auror handed him a Portkey.

”Goodbye, Mr. Jugson,” the wizard said.

”Portis,” Jugson breathed.

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Bartleby looked up when the knock sounded on his door. He didn’t have any appointments this morning.

”Come in,” he called.

Snape entered, his hood drawn up over his head.

Bartleby chuckled.

“I see old habits are hard to break,” he said as the pale wizard lowered the hood, his sharp features coming into view.

”It is not that wearing a hood is a habit, Bartleby, but still a necessity. I am trying to avoid unpleasantness . . . on my part,” the wizard said, taking a seat.

”I see,” Bartleby replied, “Now, how can I help you today, Mr. Snape.”

”I have hired Rod Dormers to assist me in the tending of my expanded fields. Technically he will not begin working until after he graduates,” Snape began.

Bartleby’s thick brows rose.

”The boy who was in all that trouble with the Ministry?” the solicitor asked.

”The same. He has already agreed to work for me. I would like you to send him a letter verifying his employment, his salary and his place of residence. I will have a cottage built on the grounds for him to live in while under my employ,” the wizard said.

“That is quite generous of you, Professor,” Bartleby said, calculating the cost of this expenditure in his head. “You like to keep your employees close, don’t you?”

“Yes I do,” Snape replied, “It will make him available at all times. As you know, some of the plants I grow require night tending. His hours will vary. I need him to be flexible. Having the boy on the grounds will insure that flexibility.”

Bartleby wrote his instructions down.

“What will his weekly salary be?” the solicitor asked the wizard.

Snape considered how difficult the work could be and gave an amount that made Bartleby’s brows lift again.

”Again, I say you are quite generous,” the solicitor said, “This boy is what? Eighteen? This is a wage for a much older, more experienced wizard.”

”Mr. Dormers has been a groundskeeper for the past seven years, Bartleby. I am taking his experience into account,” Snape replied evenly.

Bartleby stared at him.

”That would mean he started working at age eleven,” the wizard said, amazed.

”Yes,” the Potions master replied. “He is an orphan and had no resources. He had to earn his place at the school.”

Now Bartleby understood the real reason the wizard was building a cottage. The boy had no place to go after graduation.

“So I am paying him according to his experience, not his age,” the wizard continued. “In addition, I want to give him a cash bonus for accepting employment with Sparse Venues in the amount of two hundred galleons, to be placed in an account at Gringotts and ready for his use immediately.”

”That’s quite a bit of money,” Bartleby said.

”It’s a drop in the cauldron,” Snape replied.

“A very big cauldron,” Bartleby said, thinking the wizard was being overly generous.

But Snape knew what he was doing. By giving Rod a signing bonus, it wasn’t a handout. It was something he earned because of his potential worth to the company. It was just good business. And the boy would have money to spend as he needed and not have to count on the charity of others any longer, if he were thrifty. If he went through it, he was on his own until he graduated.

Snape stood up.

”I want you to get right on that. I want the papers delivered to Hogwarts by suppertime,” the wizard instructed.

”Fine. I’ll get on it immediately,” Bartleby replied.

Snape pulled up his hood and departed, Bartleby shaking his head after him.

It was a wonder he was so successful the way he threw money around.

What Bartleby didn’t realize however, was that Snape wasn’t just building business, he was building a life for a young man who had no one, a young man that the wizard believed had more untapped potential and character than anyone knew.

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That evening at supper, a lone snowy owl flew into the Great Hall. Everyone looked up because owl post usually arrived in the mornings at breakfast. Well, almost everyone. Rod glanced up but continued eating. He never received posts. There was no one to write him.

The bird gracefully circled above the tables, then zeroed in on Slytherin house, landing in front of Rod and holding out its leg, a large parchment attached to it.

”This is for me?” he asked the owl as his housemates and other students looked at him curiously. The owl hooted and shook its foot encouragingly.

Rod carefully untied the parchment. He had never even touched an owl before, so was very gentle. He then gave it a piece of his roast beef. The owl took it from between his fingers gratefully, ate it and launched itself from the table, leaving Rod staring at the large parchment with his name printed neatly on it.

”I wonder what Rod got?” Hugo said to James, who shrugged and returned to eating.

Headmaster Wumblewort also wondered what was in the large envelope. However, he wasn’t allowed to screen posts to students. All he could do would be to ask Rod.

Rod stared down at the parchment as slowly everyone returned to their meal, a bit exasperated the young wizard didn’t open it.

It was Rod’s first post. He planned to open it in private. He wolfed down the rest of his meal and quickly left the hall, heading for Slytherin house. Once in his room, he sat down on the bed and used his wand to carefully slice open the top. Inside were three documents, the first two with the Sparse Venues letterhead and the third with an official Gringotts seal.

Gringotts?

Rod of course looked at this first, and his eyes went round as saucers as he read he now had an account at Gringotts bank containing two hundred galleons. The depositor was Sparse Venues Inc.

Rod stared at the document, his heart pounding. He had two hundred galleons? That was a fortune, or it seemed to be to Rod, who had never had more than a galleon at one time in all his life. Why had they given him this?

Rod read the letter from Bartleby instructing him to fill out and sign the letter of employment and return it by owl to his office. His eyes nearly bugged out of his head when he read what his weekly pay would be. So much? For just working the fields? He continued reading. The two hundred galleons was a bonus for accepting the job.

Wow.

Rod continued reading. He was going to have a cottage on the grounds to stay in as long as he worked for the company.

Hell, he was going to work for Sparse Venues forever. He couldn’t believe this. This was . . . was a miracle! Awesome!

Rod jumped up off the bed, turned on the wireless Winston had loaned him, did a sharp spin, then proceeded to moonwalk all around the room, dancing with joy. Oh this was just great!

He had a job. He had money.

Most of all, he had a life. A real life.

Rod suddenly remembered he had to get to dance practice and hurriedly put on his practice clothing and trainers, buttoning his robes over them. He wasn’t going to tell anyone about his good fortune. Not a soul. They could just keep calling him a loser.

But he knew now and with certainty, he wasn’t one.

He hurried from his room, passing through the common room, slipping past his housemates.

”Hey Odd, what did the owl bring you?” someone called out behind him.

He didn’t answer as he hurried up the hall.

Let them wonder.

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Hermione had a good day in the labs and when she returned to her apartment, changed into her workout clothing. Molly told her she must be working too hard because she was losing weight. Hermione checked herself on the scale, but she hadn’t lost a stone. She realized her body must be toning up because of all the walking she did on the treadmill.

She decided she was going to try to use a couple of the weight machines. She entered the exercise room and looked at the pile of flat weights attached to a metal rope that ran through a series of pulleys to a handlebar like grip dangling above her.

That was what Severus lifted when he worked out. There were no numbers on the bars so she didn’t know how much each weighed but he had quite a stack of them. Curiously, Hermione reached up, gripped the bar and pulled downward.

The weights didn’t budge. She let out a breath and tried again.

”Damn,” she said to herself, widening her stance, closing her eyes and pulling on the bar with all her strength. Suddenly the bar pulled down, Hermione barely feeling the strain of lifting the weights at all. Her eyes flew open and she saw two strong pale hands gripping the inside of the bar, reaching over her.

”Having a bit of a workout, Hermione?” a silken voice purred, “I think this weight is a bit much for you.”

Hermione released the bar and turned to face Severus, who was dressed in his workout clothing. The usual white wifebeater, black sweats and black trainers. He looked down at her, a half smirk on his face as she reddened.

”I was just trying to see if I could lift what you could,” she said.

He chuckled softly.

”You weigh less than what’s on that machine,” he said to the witch.

“I doubt that,” Hermione said.

”Really?” Snape replied, “Let’s just test that theory.”

Hermione let out a shriek as the wizard caught her by the waist and lifted her up above his head.

“Put me down!” Hermione screamed, kicking her legs and whirling her arms. The wizard lowered her back to the ground, keeping his grip on her waist for a moment.

”Just as I thought. You are lighter,” he said to the witch silkily, then released her.

Furious, Hermione poked him in the chest with her finger, her eyes flashing.

”Don’t you ever do that again! I’m scared to death of heights!” she hissed at him.

Snape’s mouth quirked.

”I forgot you have a fear of flying, witch,” he said to her in a low voice, stepping a bit closer. Stuck in front of the weight machine, Hermione couldn’t back up.

Snape’s dark eyes met hers and he leaned slightly as if about to kiss the witch. Hermione’s breathing began to quicken at his closeness

“If you could, Hermione, would you fly away from me now?” he asked her softly. “Or would you rather soar with me?”

“I . . . I . . .” she began as she looked up at him

”You what, witch?” he breathed, moving closer, his lips descending. “Utter . . . don’t stutter.”

”I’d . . . I’d rather stay grounded for now,” she said, suddenly pushing past him. Snape allowed her to do so, turning as she slipped by him. He saw her reaction. He could have swooped in and kissed her easily, but found toying with her quite pleasant.

It appeared a relationship could be fun as well.

Hermione walked over to the treadmill, her idea about using the weights flying out the turret window as she got on and began to walk very quickly. Severus was so . . . so seductive.

The Potions master began to work out on the weight machine, deciding to let the witch calm down. But one thing he noticed was that despite his obvious pass at her . . .

Hermione didn’t leave.

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A/N: Thanks for reading.

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