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 13

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 13 ~ Dumbledore’s Complicity

Hermione spent the most of the afternoon in her Spell lab, going through a weeks worth of owls from distributors, consumers and marketers. These consisted mostly of orders and wish lists for more spells, with a few returned customer satisfaction and some monthly sales report from shops she worked a deal with, discounted items in exchange for their sales records regarding Hogwarts’s product.

She separated the paperwork, sorted it and filed it. She sent the order requests by floo to the distribution center, a newly built warehouse located on the Hogwarts grounds behind the castle, which was run by house-elves who wanted to expand their horizons beyond the kitchens and domestic work. They were very bright and efficient, boxing up orders and getting them shipped out with the effiency of an assembly line. They also had excellent inventory skills, never letting stock run too low. To date there had been few complaints about speed of delivery. Of course, Hermione tried to give them wages, but being loyal house-elves, they refused the shame of payment for their work.

Hermione timed her walk to supper to coincide with a small crowd of Slytherin students going to take their meal. There was safety in numbers, even if those numbers were disdainful, coddled little snakes that muttered under their breaths about Gryffindors not belonging in the dungeons or defiling heads of houses as they walked. It took all her strength not to take a few points from the smart-assed little doffers.

The first thing Hermione noticed when she entered the Great Hall was that Severus was not at supper. She got an ominous feeling about that, and restricted her meal to a light repast of chef’s salad with fruit for dessert. She didn’t want to be weighed down in case she found herself in the position of having to face off with Severus. Other staff members attempted to make small talk, noting the absence of the Potions Master, who for the past several weeks had always accompanied Hermione to meals. Was something wrong in paradise? Hermione was closed-mouth for the most part, making short one-syllable replies, and they finally got the hint and left her alone with her thoughts.

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In his study, Severus watched Hermione through his scrying mirror, picking over her salad, her brow furrowed in deep thought. No doubt she was thinking about him. He had spent the afternoon disconnecting himself from her emotionally, using a Pensieve to remove memories of intimacies they shared, in order to insure no hesitancy when he met her in the corridors tonight. He could afford no tender thoughts concerning her to mar his purpose, no reminders of the passionate moments of pleasure and surrender she afforded him to stay his hand. He removed the silver strand that held the memory of the night she turned the tables and seduced him, the night he gave himself over to her as a true lover, the night she revealed she loved him. His wand paused slightly before he resolutely dropped it into the swirling surface of the Pensieve. He did retain however, the memory of taking her virginity. It hadn’t been a particularly tender act, with her attempting to physically overcome him, and he forcing himself inside her and taking her brutally as punishment for her audacity. It was just the kind of memory he needed to re-enact tonight.

Hermione was no longer his lover. Now she was just another wrong-headed, over-confident, big-mouthed, naïve little Gryffindor witch, who needed taking down a few pegs by a stronger, craftier Slytherin for her own good. He stood up, grasped the large bowl of thoughts, hoisted it to its place on the upper bookshelf, then slid the false front of books closed over it. He warded it securely. He then spent the rest of the afternoon in meditation, fasting and detached visualization of his success.

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Albus sat at his desk, drumming his fingers morosely on the wooden top. He was thinking of Harry’s fifth year, when he lost Sirius, and he had told the boy about withholding the prophecy from him, for his own good, and Harry’s reaction. He winced at the remembrance of anger and hatred in the boy’s eyes. Contrary to popular belief, he was not all-knowing, and subject to making errors of judgment, just like anyone else, when it came to those he cared about. In his ardor to keep them from pain, he often ended up inflicting more when the truth came out. But there was no other way for it...his position required him to make important decisions concerning the lives of others. And he did the best he could.

Kingsley and Tonks had flooed him with information about Hermione’s training. He took particular interest in what the Room of Requirement had supplied for her scenarios. It was his intention to talk to Miss Granger about her impressions a few days from now, but Severus’ request that she be made available for testing tonight forced his hand. He really felt it best that Hermione face Severus as soon as possible, while her training was fresh in her mind, but his conscience was troubled that he was using deception to place her in a situation where she would have to defend herself without warning. Well, it wouldn’t be the first time he manipulated his position to gain desired results. He could only hope that ultimately, he’d done the right thing.

He was fully aware of what Severus intended to inflict on the young witch should she fail, but Kingsley and Tonks believed that she was a prodigy in defense arts as well as magical, just as Severus was, and she stood a good chance of bringing their conflict to a standstill before he would be able to complete his plan of punishment for failure. Albus had also discerned her little deterrents at breakfast that morning, despite their disillusionment. Quite ingenious actually. But knowing Miss Granger’s determination, she wouldn’t resort to using them unless absolutely necessary. Probably in a strategic way. If she were wise, she would take this opportunity to complete all five escapes in the one confrontation. She wasn’t under any obligation to run when she managed to thwart him, but could continue the battle, claiming her victory each time she was in a clear position to flee. Hopefully, her sharp mind would wrap around this possibility during the battle.

Albus sighed, and leaned back in his chair. He had no twinkle in his eyes and a sense of disquiet about what he was permitting to happen on the grounds of Hogwarts. But better Miss Granger meet her trials here, where although the outcome could be terribly unpleasant, her survival was at least guaranteed.

Albus waved his hand at the fireplace, which sputtered, sparked and spit out a flash of green light. There, he had disabled the floo. The only way Miss Granger would be able to answer his summons after curfew, would be to walk. And that would also be the only way to return to her rooms after their meeting, and therein was the crux of the matter. The deciding factor. He sighed and rested his forehead on his fists. Behind him, Fawkes began crooning a song of comfort. The phoenix served as Albus’ gauge of correct action much of the time, and her reactions to his judgments told him if he’d erred on the right or the wrong in the wise bird’s opinion. In this matter though, she had been strangely silent, opting only to ease his discomfort with soothing, lilting notes, offering no direction one way or the other. Albus closed his eyes and let her song wash over him.

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Hermione spent the rest of the evening working out. It helped with her state of unease and anticipation. Transforming the rugs into mats, she did a few stretches, and pulls first, then having no partner, practiced her falls and rolls, pulling out her wand at the end of them. She did a few rounds of throwing kicks, blows and elbows at an imaginary opponent, with the face of Severus of course, then finished with more stretches and pulls. She then grabbed her nightgown and was about to shower and dress for bed, when Albus’ voice called to her from the floo.

“Miss Granger?”

“Yes, Headmaster?” she replied, wiping her face with a towel.

“I need to speak to you on a matter of importance. Would you please come to my office?”

“Certainly sir. I’ll floo up immediately,” she replied, grabbing some floo powder.

“I’m sorry Miss Granger, but my floo is currently out of service for physical transport. I’m afraid you will have to walk here. Sorry for the inconvenience my dear,” Albus said, his voice full of apology.

Hermione hesitated, then said, “That’s fine, Headmaster. You don’t mind if I’m not in formal robes, do you?”

Albus laughed, “No my dear. Come as you are.”

“I’ll be there shortly, Headmaster,’ she replied, frowning slightly.

The floo connection ended. Hermione replaced the unused floo powder and tucked her wand into her sweatpants pocket. She didn’t like this at all. It reeked of complicity on the part of the Headmaster, and stunk of Severus. She was being set up and knew it. But she couldn’t deny the Headmaster’s summons. Now, would he attack her on the way to the Headmaster’s office or on her return? Probably her return...it would look too suspicious if she didn’t arrive at the Headmaster’s office in a timely manner, and she was sure Dumbledore was trying to keep up appearances at all costs. She was also sure that the Headmaster simply wanted this to be over as quickly as possible. She had to agree with him there, although she was uncomfortable with the fact he was helping Severus to get at her. Well, there was nothing for it. She knew this was inevitable. Taking a deep breath, she exited her rooms, walking swiftly toward the main hall, looking over her shoulder and carefully checking around her for anything that looked untoward.

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In his study, Severus put down the scrying mirror as Hermione left her rooms. He had been observing his quarry for several hours now. He watched her fluid motions as she practiced with interest. She was good, but could she keep her focus when meeting with a real opponent? She didn’t have the luxury of a Pensieve, so was open to emotional attack. He could probably throw off her concentration by attacking her psychologically as well. The Pensieve had removed the emotional impact of his memories, but he was still aware what happened between them in a clinical kind of way. He would use that to his advantage if necessary.

He decided to wear all black, as Hermione was in all white. Good and evil personified, he thought with a cruel smirk. He pulled on a form-fitting black t-shirt, and chose loose black drawsting pants, which would not be difficult to undo when his opportunity presented itself. He gave her a few moments to clear the dungeon area, then set out to locate the perfect place for their confrontation on her return.

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Hermione realized that the Headmaster had not given her the password to get past the gargoyle. She would be stuck outside his office in an empty corridor. She tensed up, not liking the implications of that, but she needn’t have worried...the gargoyle was already standing to the side of the stairwell, allowing her access. Albus had been expecting her after all. She rushed up the spiraling steps and found the Headmaster seated at his desk, his fingers folded and eyes focused on her. There was no smile this time.

“Please have a seat, Miss Granger,” he said, gesturing at the two chairs in front of him.

She walked over and sat down, looking directly at the Headmaster, her eyes slightly narrowed. She couldn’t help that. She decided not to call him on his obvious assistance with Severus, and hoped at least, that this meeting was more than a deception, and had something of value to offer her. Albus jumped right in.

“Miss Granger, Tonks and Kingsley kept me appraised of your training in the Room of Requirement, and it became quite apparent that your situation is somewhat different than first anticipated by us. For example, you should not have been attacked in a bathroom, by a witch with a weapon your first run. That is an advanced mode of training, yet the room provided it for you. You should not have been in Hogsmeade, since you were supposed to be training for a focused confrontation here at Hogwarts against Severus. Again the room deemed different. Miss Granger, did every golem you perceived as an enemy attack you?”

“No,” answered Hermione, “Draco Malfoy was there, and although he looked like he wanted to hurt me, he made no move against me. I saw a rat too, that I suspected of being Peter Pettigrew’s golem.”

“Hmm. Nothing in the Room of Requirement is wasted. Every part of it serves a purpose. I suspect that many of your attackers were Death Eaters?”

“Yes,” Hermione replied, “I did fight Goyle, Crabbe and a few others I recognized from the Final Battle by face. But not all were dressed as Death Eaters. I just got the feeling that they were mostly followers of Voldemort.”

“Instincts,” replied Dumbledore, “when you are reduced to surviving on such a gut physical level, your instincts kick in, almost like another sense. You can safely assume your instincts were right. How many times did you encounter Severus in your training?”

“Only once,” she said softly, “and he bested me.”

Albus looked interested, “How so? Did he overpower you?”

“Yes, but not physically. It...it was emotional. I let my guard down. Then he attacked me and I was caught in a compromising position, unable to fight him off.”

Albus nodded his head thoughtfully, “Interesting. The Room of Requirement produced a scenario where it was easy to see that your emotions could betray you. Amazing. But he only appeared once? In the entire training scenario?”

“Yes,’ she replied softly.

Albus leaned forward, tapping the tips of his fingers together as he considered the information Hermione had shared with him.

“Hermione, in lieu of what you have just told me, I am in agreement with Tonks and Kingsley that something has changed concerning your targeting. I have always been of the mind that in your formative years, you were for some reason, under Voldemort’s protection. I am inclined to believe that he recognized your power early on, and wanted you to be free to increase your power and knowledge, then somehow use you to aid him in his plans when you came into your own. Possibly blackmail. Although most muggles were targeted for death, there is a possibility your parents were supposed to be abducted, rather than killed. But at the time, we couldn’t have known that, so many had died. More than likely he would have used their continued safety to control you, using your abilities as a spellmaker to create offensive spells for his troops. This is all conjecture, of course.”

Hermione listened, enthralled.

“However, with his death, Voldemort’s protection is no longer afforded you. I believe that you are now actively being targeted, and not as someone they hope to get when opportunity presents itself, but as a victim of a planned attack. The room of requirement has inadvertently given us some clues as to who is possibly behind it. The presence of Draco Malfoy in the background is significant. The Ministry has left Mr. Malfoy alone, citing that there is no evidence that he was actively involved in the attempted coup, although he was sympathetic to Voldemort’s cause, as many purebloods were. So Mr. Malfoy moves freely through the wizarding world. The sins of the father, in this case, were not transferred to the son.”

“The Order has been watching him, but has no proof that he is doing anything untoward. He still delivers monthly donations to the Ministry, just as his father did, and this affords him some protection. He once complained of being followed, and we had a time of it keeping the Ministry off our backs...and were forced to pull back from our survelliance. But I believe that Mr. Malfoy is offering protection to fellow Death Eaters, and they are all now actively working en masse to harm you. Severus, although he is potentially dangerous to you, is not so to the point of taking your life, so in your training he appeared once. He is not an enemy, no matter how it feels at this point. But the others, attacking you outside of Hogwarts, I deem to be a real danger. The Room of Requirement is an amazing creation of magic, and has warned you that you have real enemies to watch for. Severus has been correct in his assessment of your situation, and his desperation concerning your ability to protect yourself seems to have been warranted.”

He looked kindly at the young witch before him, and continued,

“Love is a power magic of its own. When two people are connected, strange and wonderful things can happen. It could be that Severus was somehow subconsciously forewarned of the danger that was approaching, although he couldn’t articulate it or show concrete evidence of its existence. Severus is a man who thrives on hard evidence, and it has been difficult for him to logically demand your compliance to an issue that you could not see, one that he could not show you. He wants to protect you, and his deepest fear is that he won’t be able to, because he can’t possibly always be there, and is afraid you will be lost to him because of this. Since he could not physically show you the approaching danger, he became the danger himself, something concrete that you could see and hopefully fear enough to take action. He isn’t aware that this is what has driven him to such a level of ... obsession, but there it is. And he won’t be able to return to his previous state of security concerning your safety, until he has seen this threat through and knows for certain that you can be protected at all times, by your own hand.”

Hermione shifted in the chair, and looked at her hands, clenching and unclenching them, feeling their power. She looked back at Dumbledore, who said,

“I sincerely hope that you manage to thwart him, Miss Granger. Because, if you don’t, not only will you suffer a very painful, horrible experience, but Severus will eventually destroy himself with hatred and self-loathing for what he has done, and what he has lost. And lose you, he will. I don’t think that even Love could repair the damage that such a deed will do, and I am an avid believer in the power of Love. You are in danger, Miss Granger, in danger of losing your love, and your life. Fight, Miss Granger, fight for all you are worth, for all that you hold dear. Fight to save yourself from your enemies. Fight to save Severus from himself.

The Headmaster dropped his head to hide the strong emotions flowing through him, but Hermione could feel them physically, washing over her. Dumbledore was afraid for them both, and felt helpless as a flubberworm to do anything but let the situation play itself out. She reached out her hand and covered his.

“Don’t worry, Headmaster. I’ll beat him, and save him, save us, at the same time.”

She left Dumbledore’s office, still prepared to thwart Severus, and prove she could take care of herself. But it wasn’t anger that drove her now. It was Love.

She stepped into the quiet corridor and watched as the gargoyle leapt back into place. She took a deep breath and began her slow walk towards the dungeons.

He was waiting for her.


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A/N: okay...no more slacking...no more evaluations...no more drama...the next chapter is going to blow up!

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