The Burning Pen

When Good Wizards Go Bad
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 12

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 12 ~ Going for the Gold

With Hermione’s help, Snape was able to pinpoint the mansion’s location by longitude and latitude. Snape wasn’t sure if Hermione’s ability to see the building was because she was in the presence of the guard. Most likely it was unplottable and beyond the sight of anyone it wasn’t keyed to. Snape would have to go there and try and get the guard’s attention and make him come out. It shouldn’t be that hard, however, being that they both had something in common and that was the ability to be in the Dark Lord’s presence. That common thread would be of some use.

The night before the day of reckoning arrived and Hermione questioned Severus about the large number of Order members incarcerated at Azkaban.

“There seemed to only be a handful of Order members when I went to Hogwarts,” the witch said to the wizard as he lay naked on his back next to her, “Why are there so many at Azkaban?”

Snape looked at her.

“That is because you only saw those members who were planners and fighters that worked closely with Dumbledore. But the Order was a legitimate organization with a charter and levels of membership. There were other members who donated time, services, skills and the like, who were not ‘active’ per se in the literal sense. You did meet some of them I believe. Many of those people who came to the aid of Hogwarts during the Final Battle were considered members of the Order. Until that point they served a more supportive role behind the scenes. They also paid a small annual dues and were bound by an oath to support the Order in whatever capacity they could. All charters and membership rosters are kept at the Ministry, and when Voldemort came into power, anyone affiliated in any manner with the Order was summarily arrested and incarcerated, even if the only thing they did was provide scones for the meetings,” Snape explained.

That made sense. The Order did need support like any other institution. Hermione had never thought about that.

”But not being fighters does not mean they will not fight. I imagine they are itching for freedom just as strongly as those who were designated fighters. They might be even more dangerous,” Snape said to the witch.

Hermione fell silent for a moment, then looked at Snape.

”Tomorrow really is the day, isn’t it?” she asked him softly.

”Yes,” Snape replied shortly, looking up at the ceiling and crossing his arms behind his head. His Dark Mark was visible and Hermione studied it for a moment before her eyes fell on the wizard’s harsh, sharp features.

”You still haven’t told me exactly what you plan to do beyond what is going to happen at Azkaban,” she said to him, “You haven’t told me how you plan to free Harry.”

No, Snape didn’t tell her and didn’t plan to. Hermione, as non-reactive as she was most of the time wouldn’t accept that he was only freeing Harry so he would sacrifice himself and die. Snape needed her on board and hopeful. Knowing that he was sending her friend to his death wouldn’t exactly be conducive to that.

“You will find that out when it is necessary,” the wizard said, “I need you sharp and not full of worry. Now, you know what you are to do when I leave the mansion tomorrow morning?” he asked her.

Hermione nodded.

”Good,” Snape said, then his eyes seemed to grow a bit darker as he looked at the naked witch beside him. “You know that this is the last night of your captivity. Tomorrow you will be free of me one way or the other. There is a good chance I may die, and if I don’t die, the wizarding world will be reclaimed and so will your life. Either way, you will be beyond me. You must be happy about that.”

”It will be good to be in charge of my own life again,” Hermione said, “Though I don’t look forward to your death.”

Snape raised himself up on his elbow and looked down on the witch.

”I would think that you wouldn’t mind seeing me taken off the face of the earth,” he said to the witch.

”You are what you are, Professor. Like me. I could have chosen death or Azkaban but I didn’t. I chose to come with you knowing what that would mean. But I didn’t know that by doing so, I would be able to help bring down Voldemort. Whatever your reasons for doing this, it’s still a good thing as well as a risky one. I think I would like to see you survive it, just because it would be nice to have a truly happy ending to something,” the witch said.

Snape looked at Hermione, knowing that Harry’s death would spoil any possible happy ending for the witch. But she wanted him to survive after all he’d done to her. Gryffindors truly were idiots, no matter how brilliant. If their positions were switched, Snape knew that every breath he drew would have a prayer on it for Hermione’s death. Yes, that was the difference between them.

But let her hope for her happy ending.

Hope was what kept her responding to him, and she might be the last woman he ever touched. The thought of that caused an immediate reaction in his loins. It was getting late, but . . . one more time.

Snape shifted, then said to the witch, “Get on top. I want my last bit of pussy from you. Then we must sleep.”

Hermione obediently climbed on top of the wizard, who gripped her waist as she grasped his swollen organ and eased down on him, Snape hissing as he looked up into her cool eyes, sliding into her warm, wet sleeve.

”Make it good, witch. You will be free of me after this, free to return to your ‘normal’ life, for what it will become,” he breathed at her.

“And what will you do, Professor?” she asked him as she began to move, whirling her hips the way the wizard liked, twisting him inside her body.

Snape groaned, his eyes closing with pleasure for a moment, then he said, “I will replace you, of course. Find a woman to fulfill my carnal needs and keep her as I did Odessa. Hopefully focus on my art and make a living from it. Live a simple existence. Peace is the closest to happiness I will ever get.”

Hermione thought a simple, peaceful existence sounded heavenly. She hoped that was what she would be able to acquire when this was all over. She looked down at Snape, whose black eyes rested on her.

”I’ll make it good,” she said softly.

And she did.

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The next morning Snape dressed with care, tucking the Elder Wand securely in his sleeve. He had a lot of traveling to do. Hermione watched him with a slight frown on her face as he took a flask and poured only a small amount of Polyjuice potion into it. It was just enough to last fifteen minutes or so. Snape had purposely misled her to think they would be using a large amount of it so that mind of hers wouldn’t start percolating.

”Why are you taking so little potion?” the witch asked him as he capped the flask and put it in his pocket, then picked up the stone he had transformed into a Port key that would bring the user to his mansion. He also deposited it into his pocket. Then he picked up the two last items. The Pensieve he would give to Harry and a second robe. These he reduced and also pocketed. He turned to Hermione.

”The change is only required for a few minutes,” he said shortly, then headed up the stairs, Hermione following him. Snape strode for the door, then turned to her.

”You are to start immediately,” he told the witch, “Get the house elves to help you. Ideally I will be returning about twelve or so, then we will have about an hour to finish our preparations.

”Preparations for what?” Hermione asked him.

”You’ll find out when I return,” the wizard said evasively.

”Will Harry be with you?” Hermione asked him as he pulled the door open.

”Yes,” the wizard lied, then thought, “In spirit.”

That seemed to reassure Hermione. He looked back at her one more time, then closed the door.

Snape stood outside the mansion and focused intensely on the location of the mansion.

He disapparated.

The wizard reappeared on a rolling moor. As he suspected, he saw nothing. He cupped his hands to his mouth.

”Hallo!” he bellowed, “Hallo!”

Inside the mansion, the guard’s violet eyes lifted from the Playwizard magazine he’d been perusing.

”What the hell . . .” he said, going to a window and looking out.

”Is that Snape? What is he doing here? No one is supposed to know where this place is,” Marcus Delaluci said to himself, staring out at the shouting wizard.

Marcus was a former mercenary for Gringotts Bank. Before that, he served as an assassin for pay. He and Voldemort met some years ago while the despot was still Tom Riddle with aspirations of greatness. He hired Marcus, but didn’t give him the Mark, primarily because the wizard’s blood was tainted and secondly, he didn’t want anyone to know about the wizard.

Marcus was considered a pureblood but he was actually a crossbreed, having a dragon for an ancestor. It had something to do with his grandmother many times removed being sacrificed as a village virgin and the dragon taking a liking to her.

A very great liking.

Voldemort used Marcus’ services against his own Death Eaters, using the wizard to take out those he wanted removed, which the wizard did with dispatch. When the Dark Lord captured Harry, Marcus was given the task of watching over him and protecting him. Marcus thought it was quite a cushy gig actually. Harry was easy to get along with after he became resigned to being a well-kept prisoner and stopped trying to escape. Marcus had kicked his ass several times before the boy-who-lived got the message he wasn’t leaving.

Marcus also took advantage of Harry’s randiness and would use the whores when he was done with them. The dark wizard loved doing it because the whores would protest.

”I was only to do one client,” the women would say, and Marcus would rape and brutalize them, then obliviate them afterwards. He was a twisted fuck. But no one was the wiser. It wasn’t as if there was a meter on them to count how many cocks were stuck in them on a given day. One more didn’t hurt anything as far as Marcus was concerned. If he had gotten to Hermione, she would have been obliviated as well. Marcus had made a mistake.

A costly one.

”Hallo!” Snape called again.

Marcus hesitated. There had to be a reason the wizard was here. Snape could go into Voldemort’s presence. Maybe the Dark Lord had sent him here. But if that were the case, Snape would be able to see the mansion. The way he was casting about it was clear he wasn’t sure where the mansion was.

“I need to speak with the guard!” Snape called.

Marcus hesitated. Should he contact the Dark Lord? Voldemort didn’t like to be disturbed for pittances however and would be angry if Marcus wasted his time. And he really didn’t feel like being Crucio’d.

After a moment’s hesitation, the wizard walked over to the door and opened it.

Snape suddenly saw a dark rectangle appear and a frowning blonde wizard standing in inside of it. He drew his wand and pointed it at the pale wizard.

”What are you doing here, Snape? No one’s supposed to know where this place is. Did the Dark Lord send you?" he demanded.

For a moment, Snape considered saying he did, but decided not to. The guard might check.

”No, he didn’t,” Snape replied, “I came here on my own, to talk to you and to see Harry Potter.”

Marcus looked at him incredulously.

”Oh no. That’s not going to happen. I’m going to contact the Dark Lord right now and tell him about this,” the wizard said, beginning to focus.

”I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Snape said quickly, “Since the reason I was able to find this place and learn about Harry Potter was because you were lax in your duties. We both know how the Dark Lord rewards laxness.”

”Lax? What the fuck do you mean lax?” Marcus demanded.

”You didn’t obliviate the whore. Hermione Granger. She told me about Harry being alive,” the wizard said.

Oh shit.

Marcus slumped inside the doorway although he still kept his wand trained on Snape. He might have been sent to kill him.

”I’m a fucking dead man,” he breathed.

Voldemort was going to be wearing his balls for a necklace.

”However, once I realized your mistake, I obliviated the witch for you,” Snape said to the wizard. “I too am in service to the Dark Lord and if the knowledge that Harry Potter lives got out, my job at the Ministry would become that much harder. Some might use that knowledge to rally the masses.”

Now Marcus slumped in relief, lowering his wand completely.

“Thanks Snape,” he said to the wizard, his eyes grateful.

”However, I would like to see Mr. Potter myself. I think my assistance to you should be worth that,” Snape said to him, “I’d like to do a bit of . . . gloating. The boy was an abysmal pain in my arse while at Hogwarts. I took a number of stripes for him.”

Marcus looked at the pale wizard consideringly. He had helped him out, and shit, he could still tell Voldemort if he wanted to. The expedient thing would be to kill Snape, but that damned Dark Mark would pinpoint his last location for the Dark Lord when he came up missing. That last location would be the mansion. Damn it.

”Come on in,” Marcus said.

Snape approached him and Marcus stepped aside to let him in.

”How is Mr. Potter?” Snape asked Marcus conversationally, seeking to put the wizard at ease.

”He’s fine, the pampered little bastard,” the wizard replied, walking ahead of Snape and leading him through a large hallway to another part of the mansion.

”He’s in here,” Marcus said, pushing a heavy iron door open. It was another part of the mansion, rich and opulent.

Suddenly, his eyes telescoped painfully and Marcus spun, his wand drawn, but Snape stunned him before he could cast his own spell. Marcus crumpled. His dragon sense had failed him this go around. He felt the danger, but couldn’t move fast enough.

Snape walked forward and plucked the wizard’s wand out of his hand, broke it, then cast a binding spell on the unconscious wizard.

”What’s going on?” a familiar voice called coming closer. “Marcus?”

Snape stepped through the doorway, his black eyes resting on the young wizard that was to be the wizarding world’s lamb for the slaughter. Shocked, Harry stared back at him.

”Mr. Potter I presume,” the wizard purred.

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A/N: Ah, a cameo by OC Marcus Delaluci.  He's still a pig. lol.  Anyway, thanks for reading.

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