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 20

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 20 ~ It Begins to Come Together

Draco sat at the bar in the Three Broomsticks, moodily staring into the mirror over the bar, nursing his firewhiskey, trying to calm down. He had visited the lower level of the Manor to check up on the resident Death Eaters, and found Crabbe and Goyle brutally raping a muggle woman. They had put a silencing charm on the room they were in, and it was simple chance that he had discovered them. The two were having at her at the same time, one in front and one at the rear. And they were using magic, Death Eater magic. The woman’s screams were horrible.

Draco had repeatedly told them they were not to kidnap any muggles and bring them to the Manor. Now that he discovered this, he didn’t know how many times they had disobeyed him. He pulled his wand and crucio’d both men, who fell back screaming from the woman. These rooms were heavily spelled and warded. Signatures of dark magic couldn’t be detected or traced. Now all three of them were making an awful racket. Draco silenced the woman with the killing curse and transformed her body into a shoe. She would stay that way for a long time. He would dispose of her later. After he had punished Crabbe and Goyle for their disobedience by casting an impotence curse on them both, he grabbed the shoe and apparated to Hogsmeade. He tossed the shoe into a trash bin.

Idiots. He was surrounded by idiots.

His mood black, he decided he wanted a drink. For a moment, he considered stopping in at the Hog’s Head Inn, but decided not to. Although the patrons were much more interesting than those found at the Three Broomsticks, he would prefer to drink out of a washed glass, and wasn’t feeling up to inhaling the constant scent of goat that seemed to permeate the place. Unlike most of his Death Eater peers, he didn’t have to frequent hole in the walls, he had the freedom to move about freely, being the golden boy of the Ministry.

So here he was at the Three Broomsticks, seething. Through the mirror he noticed a pretty young witch sitting alone in a booth. His ice-blue eyes narrowed as he thought about turning on the Malfoy charm, taking her to a room in Knockturn Alley and getting some release, in his own special way. Draco was a lot like his father Lucius in respect to women. He could almost always be counted on the charm the robes off them. He was handsome, rich and charming, after all. He was also cruel, licentious and sadistic, which the unfortunate women generally found out within moments of being alone with him. He shut them up afterwards with either galleons or threats. Those women who could resist his obvious charms, he targeted and got anyway. He enjoyed those women more.

As he brooded over his drink, he noticed a raven fly in and land on the bar with a loud, raucous caw that rang through the inn. It had a parchment tied to its leg.

His stomach tightened. He knew that bird. He had seen it off and on for the seven years he spent at Hogwarts. Had seen it in his very own manor, carrying messages to his father. It was Snape’s familiar. White hot anger rose inside him at the very thought of the Potions Master. What was that bird delivering?

Raucous cawed again, even louder than the first time. Madame Rosmerta trundled over, balancing trays of empty glasses in both hands. Deftly she slid behind the bar and set the trays down, walking over the the raven, her hands on her hips.

“Raucous!” she said chastising the bird even as she reached under the bar and gave him a treat, “why you flying in here making all that noise, eh? Come now, let me see what Professor Snape has sent me here.”

Malfoy stealthily moved down a few stools as another barmaid walked up behind Rosmerta and looked interestedly over her shoulder as she removed the parchment and unrolled it. Her blue eyes scanned the parchment and she smiled with pleasure.

“What do you think of that?” she said to the barmaid. “Snape is staying here for the weekend, and asked for the double suite. He wants wine too, and food. This is a first. He must be bringing the Miss Granger to stay with him,” here she lowered her voice, “they’re an item, you know.”

The barmaid nodded her head enthusiastically, smiling.

Rosmerta continued, “A lover’s retreat. How romantic. Well, good for him! Gods knows he deserves some happiness after all he’s done for us!”

She pulled out a bit of parchment from her apron pocket and a quill and quickly wrote a confirmation, tying it to Raucous’ leg. The raven let out one more doozy of a caw and took off, sailing through the open door and back to his master.

Draco’s glass of firewhiskey burst into shards as he imagined Snape taking his pleasure of Hermione in the upstairs suite like he hadn’t a care in the world. Like he hadn’t betrayed them all. Like he wasn’t responsible for the death of his father. Like he hadn’t destroyed the lives of hundreds of Voldemort’s followers. Like he didn’t deserve to die.

“Oh my, Mr. Malfoy!” Rosmerta cried running over to him, pulling a clean rag from her apron pocket, and attempting to wrap his bleeding hand. He pulled away from her, taking out a Slytherin green handkerchief of his own and wrapping it around the gash.

“I’ll take care of it,: he said between clenched teeth, the pain only adding to the swell of hatred in his heart. Holding his injured hand close to his body, he departed the inn, his mind in full gear, planning.

“When I get them both,” Draco thought viciously, “I’ll rape his mudblood bitch in right front of him, and give her to Crabbe and Goyle, and whoever else wants a taste. That will destroy him. Then I’ll imperio him, and make him follow us, slide through all the come we left in and on her body. Then I’ll kill them. Cut them up and kill them. I’ll hang his head on my wall.”

The beauty of this image made the cramp of hatred in his belly ease a little. Draco hurriedly walked to the closest public apparation point, and disapparated.

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Back at Hogwarts, Severus and Hermione sat comfortably side by side in the large bed. Hermione was reading a book of “Old and Forgotten Spells” by Professor Finder Seeker, and Severus had a small bed tray settled over his long legs, doing some last minute grading he had forgotten about.

A loud caw resounded through his rooms.

“Raucous is back,” he said unnecessarily, continuing his grading.

Hermione looked up. “Shouldn’t you go and see about him?” she asked, “He might have a message.”

“He’ll come here,” Severus said unconcerned, still marking parchments.

Sure enough, the cawing grew closer, and Raucous hopped through the doorway and fluttered up to the end of the bed. He looked from Severus to Hermione and back to Severus as if to ask, “What’s she doing here?” before gingerly walking up the bed to the tray and hopping on it imperiously, sticking out his leg while cocking his head disapprovingly at Hermione.

She stuck out her tongue at the bird.

Severus removed the parchment, and for a moment he and the bird stared at each other. Hermione got the distinct impression that they were silently communicating.

Seeming satisfied, Severus reached over to the bedside table, where there was half a jelly donut left on a saucer. He gave this to Raucous, who snatched it up and hopped back down the bed, to the floor and out the door. Hermione was sure he would have given a final, horrible squawk of goodbye, if his beak hadn’t been full.

Severus unrolled the parchment. He read it and said, “Madame Rosmerta has confirmed our reservation for this weekend.” He rolled the parchment up and placed it on the bedside table.

“Draco Malfoy was there when Raucous deliver my request. Rosmerta blabbed it out, just as I knew she would. Malfoy heard everything.”

Hermione cocked her head, “How do you know that?” she asked, interested.

“I saw it through the eyes of Raucous. He is my familiar after all,” he replied.

Hermione sidled closer to Severus, and he draped his arm around her shoulder.

“You’re nervous about this, aren’t you?” he asked her softly.

“A little,” she replied, leaning into him and breathing in his comforting scent.

That’s good. Nervousness will keep you focused,” he said, planting a chaste kiss on her forehead., “You have nothing to fear. I’ll be with you. We’re going to end this.”

Hermione rested her head on his chest, listening to his heart beat strongly. She prayed with all her might that he was right.


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A/N: Draco. What a piece of work, eh? He has almost too much hatred for one man to bear. Severus’ head on a wall? Chilling.

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