The
Burning Pen
"What Was I Thinking" Series
"#4 ~ The 'Up Against the Wall' Wars"
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 2
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine.
No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 2 ~ Taking It to the Top
Hermione paced her rooms furiously. Intimacies suspended? New method of
training? No sex. She seethed. This was nothing more than blackmail.
What was she, a prizefighter in training? She plopped into a chair to
think.
Severus was really obsessed about this. He seemed, scared, to be
honest. But, the fact of the matter was not everyone could be a martial
artist. She had really tried to learn the techniques he, Tonks and
Kingsley taught her, but she lacked the drive to apply them. How was
she supposed to fight people she knew, with the intention of injuring
them? She remembered wincing when Severus instructed her to try to kick
or knee him in the balls. Gods forbid. Not there! Anyplace but there!
He could have been wearing a cup, but Hermione wasn’t sure if he could
find one that fit him. Not a chance she was willing to take. And he had
been furious with her lack of enthusiasm.
So now he had teamed up with Dumbledore to try and change the
unchangeable. She just wasn’t a fighter. But she was very formidable
with a wand. During the Final Battle she cut down many Death Eaters
before she was finally felled by a nasty hex thrown by Lucius Malfoy.
She did all right for herself. And she knew a lot of spells, spells
that she really shouldn’t know, spells that would protect her well.
But Severus was concerned about her not having magic at her disposal.
He wanted her to use weapons too. Knives in particular. She grimaced as
she remembered the half-hearted defense she put up with a rounded blade
when Severus went for her. He walked menacingly towards her, arms down
at his sides, his whole torso open to attack, and she poked him in the
arm. He was so mad he banished her from the session, which to be
honest, was fine with her.
Something about the way he looked at her when telling her about the
consequences of not learning from this new method of training, made her
blood run a little cold. The way he looked at her, how harshly he spoke
to her. It was as if he were steeling himself, had no heart in him, no
kindness. She shivered a little at the thought of him attacking her at
random. Severus took her defense training very seriously. He would be
attacking her in earnest. This was probably why he decided to stop
their trysts. It would probably be difficult to attack a woman you
wanted to have willing for sex later on. A definite conflict of
interest. However, how conducive to training could it be to have a
sexually frustrated student? Hermione was a real bitch when denied her
vitamin F.
She shook her head. It just wasn’t fair to be put through this so
arbitrarily. Frowning to herself, she stood up. She knew what she
needed to do.
She walked into her bedroom, opened the closet and donned her staff
robes. She was going to go to Dumbledore and protest this forced
training. She’d make him see reason. She knew Severus had her best
interests at heart, but this was going way, way too far.
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Hermione stood frowning in front of the gargoyle that guarded the
entrance to Dumbledore’s office. She had tried the password, “Bouncing
Sugar Beanie Babies,” but it hadn’t worked. It must have been changed.
She tried a list of confections, but nothing worked. Frustrated, she
wasn’t sure what she should do next, when the gargoyle leapt aside of
its own accord, and Dumbledore emerged from the stairwell.
“Miss Granger!” he smiled broadly. “How nice to see you, my dear. I was
just on my way to the kitchens to see if I could persuade the house
elves to make me a lemon tart or two. Care to accompany me?” he asked,
looking over his glasses kindly at the young witch.
Hermione would have preferred to sit in his office and talk to him, but
it would be rude to say so, especially since he was on his way out, so
she nodded, and together they walked down the corridor.
“Um, Headmaster, I wanted to talk to you about my combat training...” she began, deciding it would be best to dive right in.
The Headmaster looked at her sideways. “Ah, yes Miss Granger. I
understand that Severus has developed a new method for you. Very good.”
he replied, smiling.
“Well sir, I’m not sure exactly how good that is. You see, I’m just not good fighting material,” she said.
“Nonsense, my dear. Anyone can learn to defend himself. Or herself, in
your case. Nymphadora Tonks was a real fright when the time came for
her training,” he said, before leaning in towards Hermione and lowering
his voice, “She’s a wonderful girl, but a bit clumsy. It took her a
while to get the hang of it, but she has it pat now. She’s a very
accomplished fighter. Actually trains others. If she could learn, I see
no reason you can’t, Miss Granger.”
His eyes lost a little twinkle when he said this.
“But, Headmaster, I don’t want to...”
Albus cut her off, a sternly looking over his glasses at her. Hermione had forgotten how imposing the powerful wizard could be.
“Miss Granger. Severus is right when he says you are in real danger.
What I am about to say to you has to remain in strictest confidence. I
am sure I can trust you to keep it to yourself.”
Hermione nodded. “Of course, Headmaster.” She felt her stomach knotting up.
Dumbledore looked at her a bit sadly. “Miss Granger, Voldemort’s demise
has made life in the wizarding world safer overall, but there are still
loyal Death Eaters out here who wish to take revenge on those they feel
responsible for the thwarting of their Master’s plans for domination.
We in the Order have not ceased being vigilant in pursuing these rogue
minions of the Dark Lord, and they have not ceased their slaughter in
the name of Voldemort. We have intercepted a list of targeted
individuals, and it is quite a list, a list on which you figure
prominently, about fourth from the top of a total of two hundred
intended victims.”
Hermione gasped, covering her mouth.
“Severus is aware of the list, but not of your prominent placing. He
himself is second on the list, while I have the dubious honor of being
the first. Harry is third, and it goes on from there. The Death Eaters
are not going through the list in order, being guided by opportunity
rather than following a plan of attack. More than thirty people on the
list have been killed, before we acquired it, and we lost seven more,
this week alone. And those we lost, knew of their danger. But still
they died.”
Albus sighed.
“These Death Eaters are opportunists. And they are intelligent, for the
most part. Two of the victims were killed at their desks inside the
Ministry, and the culprits escaped. Another was murdered while hiding
in a safehouse that was supposed to be unplottable, and the murderous
also made it away unscathed. Several died from receiving unsolicited
gift packages that exploded with such force that the building was blown
to bits. Many more were abducted...we still can’t find their bodies...”
Here Albus looked at her pointedly. Hermione dropped her eyes guiltily.
“Is there something you would like to tell me, Miss Granger?” Albus asked softly, his blue eyes hardening slightly.
She looked up at the Headmaster, but couldn’t bring herself to tell him
about her abduction. She had a feeling he already knew. She remained
silent. Albus sighed again.
“Miss Granger, I must insist that you participate in the training
program Severus has laid out for you, no matter how difficult or even
painful. You are valuable to the wizarding world, and to us, my dear.
What you have done for Severus alone, places me in your debt. His soul
was dead, because of what I put him through all those years, and you
resurrected him. If anything were to happen to you, Miss Granger, he
would return to the darkness, and I am sure that this time, we would
not be able to bring him back to the Light. You must live, Miss
Granger. We cannot allow your reticence to keep you from surviving. You
have a destiny, my dear...other than the one you’ve already fulfilled.”
“You know?” Hermione breathed, staring at the Headmaster as they walked
toward the portrait of fruit that would open the hidden door to the
kitchens.
He looked at her kindly and said, “Gods bless those heroes who are
unsung, who secret the great deeds they’ve done...yes I’ve known from the
first, Miss Granger. Harry was the instrument of Voldemort’s death...but
you were the power and cause behind it.” He eyed her with a smile.
“There is still much for you to do,” he said softly, “and although I am
not comfortable with what Severus has planned for you, for your safety
and survival I find myself in agreement...that desperate situations
require desperate measures. And I will not interfere.”
The Headmaster stated this firmly, as to leave Hermione in no doubt
that she was at the mercy of Severus Snape, a mercy that was in all
probability, non-existent. She could not look for help from any other
quarter than her own dubious strength.
“I trust I have answered all your questions suitably?” Dumbledore asked
as he tickled the pear, which let out a high-pitched giggle before
swinging open on the kitchens, and a group of waiting, bobbing, smiling
house-elves.
“Yes. Yes you have, Headmaster. I thank you,” Hermione replied in a distant voice.
“Will you join me in the kitchens? I’m sure the house-elves will
prepare us an excellent nosh,” Dumbledore said, smiling down at the
elves, who were literally trembling to be of service.
She shook her head. “Ah, no thank you, Headmaster. I’m going to return
to my rooms, to think about what you’ve told me, and what to do next.”
Albus nodded. “Very well, Miss Granger. Be safe,” he added
meaningfully. He then walked into the kitchens, where he was instantly
mobbed by a cluster of small, excited bodies. The door closed and
Hermione headed back towards the dungeons.
She returned to the main corridor and turned to the dungeon entrance.
She was so lost in thought that she was unaware she was being
followed.
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A/N: oh oh. who dat?!
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