The Burning Pen

"What Was I Thinking" Series
"#2 ~ What Was I Thinking ~ Part 2"
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 9

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 9 ~ When a Phoenix Sings...

Severus wasn’t at supper in the Great Hall that evening. Hermione didn’t expect him to be. He probably had his meal in his private rooms, not willing to face her so soon. Still, she couldn’t help feeling as if a stone was in her belly, every time she glanced at his empty chair. She pushed her pork chop around her plate morosely. For the first time in her know-it-all life, she had no idea what she should do. There was no book for this. No page to cross-reference. No footnotes or annotations. A brain could only do so much. This was a true matter of the heart.

Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione saw Dumbledore dart a quick glance toward Severus’ vacant place at the staff table. His look was grave. Too grave. Hermione suddenly felt a chill grip and release her body, as if one of Hogwarts’ ghosts had passed right through her. Something was wrong. Very wrong. She excused herself from the meal.

“Are you feeling all right, Miss Granger?” Madame Pomfrey asked, looking concerned as the young witch rose unsteadily from the table, “You look pale as a ghost, dear.”

“I’m fine, Madame Pomfrey. Just worked a bit too hard in the office today, I guess. I probably just need a lie-down.”

Madame Pomfrey studied her with a critical medi-witch eye. “All right, dear. But if you continue feeling under the weather, please come to the hospital wing. A dose of pepper-up potion will do wonders.”

“I will,” said Hermione, “Thank you.”

She exited the Great Hall through the staff exit, and swiftly walked toward the dungeons. Descending into the murky hall, she headed for Severus’ office. Outside the door, she paused. If he were in there, what would she say to him? He had been clear that he wanted to be left alone. She was the last person in the world he wanted to see, now. She bit her lip, remembering how untrue that had been only two nights ago. She felt a twinge of desire at the memory of his wild possession, and firmly pushed it away. The way it was now, she would never experience his raging passions again.

Still, she wanted to know if he were all right. If he asked her to leave, she would. She just wanted to see him. She knocked on the door lightly. There was no answer. She knocked again, harder this time. Still no reply. He wasn’t there. She was about to turn to go, when she decided to try the door handle. The door swung open.

She walked slowly through the familiar space, memories of times spent here arguing over grades and losing points washing over her. She could almost hear his aggravated voice, “What now, Miss Granger?” She sighed. How long ago that seemed now. She cautiously walked to the bookcase she knew opened on his private rooms. She picked over the books until she located the one that triggered the hidden doorway. She walked through.

A fire was burning low in the fireplace. “Severus?” she called, “Severus, are you here?” There was no answer. Cautiously, she headed for what she thought was his bedroom. She pushed open the door slowly, noting the huge four-poster bed that dominated the room, draped in Slytherin colors. It reminded her of the bed they shared at the cottage. She glanced around the sparsely decorated room, and noticed his robes discarded on the floor. That was unlike him. He was usually quite fastidious when it came to his garments...unless something else occupied his attentions. It was then she knew he was not in the castle.

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Hermione found herself in front of the gargoyle that guarded Dumbledore’s office. She hesitated, debating whether or not to disturb the Headmaster. Severus was probably fine. Probably just needed to get away for a while. Probably. At least she had a feasible reason to want to know his whereabouts since they were to work together. The Headmaster would know if he had left the premises. He knew everything about what went on at Hogwarts, it seemed. She took a deep breath, hoping it would dispel the visual evidence of the worry she felt. After all, she was just asking about a fellow staff member. She looked at the gargoyle.

“Bouncing Sugar Beanie Babies,” she said. Somehow, the password wasn’t funny anymore.

The gargoyle jumped aside, giving her access to the spiral stairs leading to Dumbledore’s office. She mounted them and took the winding walk to the top floor. Dumbledore’s door was closed. She knocked.

“Come in, Miss Granger,” called Dumbledore’s voice, “I’ve been expecting you.”

Hermione pushed open the door and entered the office. The portraits on the wall looked at her with interest, whispering to each other in hushed tones.

Dumbledore was, as usual seated behind his desk. He rose as she entered and gestured to a chair. “Please sit down, Miss Granger,” he said. Hermione sat tersely on the edge of the chair, hands folded. She looked at the Headmaster.

“I wanted to ask you...” she began.

“Where Severus is,” he said, completing the sentence for her.

“Yes,” she said, wondering how he knew.

“Tonight at supper, I noticed you looking at Professor Snape’s chair. I assumed you were wondering where he was,” Albus said kindly.

“I noticed you looking at his chair too, Headmaster,” Hermione replied. “You didn’t look...yourself.”

Albus lowered his head for a moment, then looked back at her.

“Yes, child,” he replied. “I’m concerned about Severus. He was summoned earlier today by Voldemort.”

Hermione’s heart tightened in her chest. “No,” she breathed, “not today...”

Dumbledore looked sympathetic.

“I’m afraid we won’t be seeing Professor Snape for several days,” said Dumbledore, his demeanor solemn, his blue eyes devoid of twinkle. “Voldemort often summons him on the weekends, imagining his absence won’t be so noticeable if he takes a personal leave on Friday afternoon and returns before classes on Monday.”

Hermione sat in silence, feeling as if the world was closing in on her. It was hard to breathe. Dumbledore removed his glasses, and blinked several times before returning them to his face.

“I truly fear for Severus’ life this time, Miss Granger. Voldemort is extremely angry about the escape of the majority of the muggle families, and his inability to find them. He feels Severus is either withholding information or not trying hard enough to collect the information he needs.”

“No,” Hermione said again, unable to form an intelligible sentence. Dumbledore continued.

“We have given Severus some information to leak to Voldemort about the disillusioned necklaces used to transport the families, and how they operate, since we have now made the portkeys, bracelets which are activated in a similar manner. We have also given him disinformation about the possible locations of the families. I pray that this is enough, and that Voldemort will still find him invaluable in the execution of his plans. I hope that Severus’ strength does not make him finally kill him.”

“His strength?” Hermione asked, bewildered. “Why would Severus’ strength incur the wrath of the Dark Lord? Doesn’t he want strong Death Eaters following him?”

Dumbledore sighed, “The Dark Lord fears strength, even in his most loyal followers. Like most despots, he is paranoid, fearing deception and overthrow on every front. He does not want his Death Eaters too strong, fearing one will attempt to rise from within the ranks to kill him, and usurp his power. As a result of this, he prefers to keep his Death Eaters loyal through fear of pain and death, rather than trust them to follow him based on conviction or principle. He does not admire strength, only blind obedience.”

“Severus is a strong man, and he has proven that strength time and time again, when he continues to answer the Summons, despite knowing only pain and suffering await him even when he has information the Dark Lord can use. Although Voldemort won’t admit it even to himself, he fears Severus is the one Death Eater capable of overthrowing his reign. This is the real basis of his constant torture. It is an attempt to break the Potions Master’s spirit, or to make him run, so he can destroy him outright.”

Hermione processed this information. Severus’ situation was worse than she imagined. Even if he did everything in his power to please Voldemort, the evil wizard would still torture and abuse him. He would ultimately kill him, she was sure. In Voldemort’s eyes, he was too much of a threat. Tears welled up in her eyes. Dumbledore handed her a hankerchief, and waited quietly as the witch wiped at her eyes.

“He means much to you, doesn’t he, Hermione? Much more than a fellow staff member,” Dumbledore said softly, his eyes on her intently.

“Yes,” she breathed.

Dumbledore sat back in his chair and folded his hands as he considered the woman, yes woman, in front of him. She was no longer a child. He suspected there was something between her and his potions master. Something he would leave them to. She was the age of consent after all. He leaned forward.

“Severus is a brave man,” he said, “and complicated. He lives a life of deceit, pain and thanklessness for his sacrifices on the part of others. He is haunted by his past, and believes he has no future. There is little in this world to bring him joy.”

The Headmaster looked at Hermione thoughtfully. “I’m not even sure he could handle joy. Or kindness. Or love. As much as he would benefit from the wonderful experiences life allows us, he pushes them away, because he feels it is not his place in this world to be happy. And that is heartbreaking, Miss Granger.”

“Yes it is. If anyone deserves to be happy, he does, “ Hermione whispered, more to herself than the Headmaster.

She looked up at the Headmaster plaintively. “What can I do to help him, Headmaster? What can I do?” she said in despair.

Dumbledore looked at her.

“For now, work on the Relaxo spell. Enhance it, make it stronger. In the event that he does return to us alive, he will need that spell to survive the effects of the prolonged use of the cruciatus curse on his person. Each time he goes back, Voldemort uses longer and longer bursts, knowing full well the agony it will cause him, probably hoping that on his return, the pain, seizures and bone breakage will kill him, so it will not appear to his other followers that he murdered the most useful and obedient Death Eater he had.”

“Fine. I will start on the spell immediately. As soon as I get back to my lab,” Hermione said, rising from her chair, glad to be able to do something meaningful to help Severus “I will need a special dispensation for using the Unforgivable, Headmaster...”

“It is already given, Miss Granger.

“And I will need...” here Hermione hesitated, “test subjects.”

“Hagrid will be glad to provide rats for that purpose,” Albus assured her. Then noting her look of reticence, said softly, “I know you hate to make another creature suffer, Hermione, but everything must serve its purpose for the greater good. Saving his life is for the greater good. He is irreplaceable. We are lost without him.”

Hermione nodded, knowing in her heart, that this was true. Without him, they would all be lost. Especially her. If she had to cast an Unforgivable for him, she would. Many times. She steeled herself to her purpose.

“I believe I will go now, Headmaster. I have much to do.” she said.

He nodded, studying her intently. “Yes, you do, Miss Granger. I wish you much success.”

“Thank you, sir,” Hermione said. She turned and hurriedly left the office.

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Dumbledore turned to Fawkes, who had been sitting on her perch, silent the whole while.

“So what do you think of this, old friend?” Dumbledore asked the phoenix, “Severus? Miss Granger?” Fawkes looked at Dumbledore, blinking her beautiful eyes.

Suddenly, she began to sing.


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A/N: I seriously considered ending this story at chapter 8. But I didn’t think it would be appreciated by those readers foaming at the mouth for a happy ending. I’m not sure there will be one, (character death is always a nice touch), but I will continue the story until it runs its course. By the way, if ANYONE attempts to send me teddy bears and roses...I will FIND a way to hex them into oblivion! Don’t make me get as snarky as Snape, alright?

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