The
Burning Pen
Heroes
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.
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR.
All original characters and situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 10 ~ A Meeting in the Corridors
When Artimus returned from visiting Steede, he entered the quarters to find
Dahlia was well into reading “Hogwarts, a History.” Since she was occupied, the
sorcerer asked Kreacher to show him around the castle. The elf agreed, of
course.
As they entered the Entrance Hall heading for the marble staircase and the first
floor, Artimus stopped to examine a life-like painting of a rather soppy-looking
witch standing in a meadow.
Imagine the sorcerer’s surprise when the witch scowled, put her hands on her
hips and said, “Eh now! Don’t you know it’s rude to stare?”
Startled and astonished, Artimus replied, “Oh, forgive me. I didn’t know you . .
. you could see me.”
”Next time take a picture,” the witch snapped, turning her back to him. He
blinked at the portrait a few times, then he and Kreacher headed up the stairs.
”Are there many portraits that . . . that are alive here, Kreacher?” he asked
the elf.
Kreacher nodded.
”Yes, there is Sir Cadogan near the South Tower, women and monks near the North
Tower, the Big Lady, a mermaid where the prefects bathes . . . very naughty, and
others,” the elf replied.
Artimus shook his head. Nothing in this world seemed to follow natural laws.
As they walked, Artimus looked up at the shifting stairwells above them. There
seemed to be no access to them from the first floor landing.
”How do you get to those stairwells?” he asked Kreacher.
”There is many staircases at Hogwarts,” Kreacher said, “we musts go up a flight
to ride the stairs.”
They turned down the first floor corridor, walked past both the History of Magic
and Defense Against the Dark Arts classrooms and ran right into Severus and
Hermione, who were about to walk up the stairs to the second floor. The
Headmaster frowned at the sorcerer.
”Mr. Rogue, it is after curfew,” he said to the sorcerer imperiously. “No one is
to be out and about the school at this hour.”
Artimus didn’t know he was to stay in his rooms. True, Snape had told him he
expected him to “follow the rules” but no one had told him what the rules were.
Besides, he wasn’t a student. Nine o’clock was far too early for him to retire.
But, the sorcerer held his tongue concerning that.
”I didn’t know,” he said, “I asked Kreacher to show me the castle.”
Severus scowled at Kreacher.
”Well, Kreacher knew,” he said coldly as the elf’s ears flattened.
Suddenly, Kreacher ran toward the closest stone wall headfirst at full speed,
Hermione letting out a shriek as the little creature reacted as all elves did
who gave bad service. He was going to punish himself.
But Artimus had quick reflexes and dove after Kreacher, grabbing him and pulling
the elf back as he struggled.
“What are you doing?” he said to Kreacher, struggling to hold him. The elf was
stronger than he looked. “Kreacher! Stop struggling!”
Suddenly, Kreacher calmed. He was given a direct order after all. He stood
there, looking at the floor, ashamed and quivering.
”What was he doing?” Artimus asked Snape. “Why did he charge the wall like that?
He could have injured himself.”
Hermione answered him.
”He was going to punish himself for giving bad service,” she said softly,
looking down at Kreacher sympathetically.
”Bad service?” Artimus said, “he didn’t give bad service. He did what I asked
him to do.”
”House elves have a code, Mr. Rogue. If they do something that displeases whom
they are serving, they punish themselves,” Snape told the wizard.
Artimus stared at Snape, then looked down at Kreacher.
”Why?” he asked, and once again it was Hermione who answered.
”The behavior is thought to go back to when they were free. They had a very
strict code of honor among their tribes. Before they were enslaved, when an elf
did something dishonorable, they . . . they . . .”
Hermione couldn’t bring herself to say it. But Severus could.
”They killed themselves. Usually by disembowelment. Similar to Hari-Kari,” the
wizard purred. “They’ve toned it down since becoming servants, probably because
by killing themselves, it would be an even worse service to a master who needs
them.”
Artimus turned the elf around.
”Listen Kreacher, you didn’t give me bad service. I am very happy with your
service,” the sorcerer said to him kindly.
”He didn’t do it because of you, Mr. Rogue, he did it because of me,” Snape
informed him. “He is assigned to you, but his primary service is to Hogwarts, of
which I am in charge. He knew I was displeased and acted accordingly.”
Artimus took this in and studied Snape thoughtfully. He didn’t seem at all
disturbed that Kreacher was going to nearly bash his head in. But Artimus
realized that this behavior was normal and accepted in this world, and Snape
probably just took it as a matter of course, although Hermione looked quite
upset.
Finally he spoke.
”I’m presuming that your orders override my own, Mr. Snape,” the sorcerer said
slowly, “so would you please instruct Kreacher not to punish himself during his
time as my escort? I will return to the dungeons and from this moment forward I
will be sure to ask him if what I request is permitted from now on.”
Now it was Snape’s turn to study Artimus. Obviously, his soft spot didn’t only
extend to his horse. The dark wizard’s eyes shifted to Hermione for a moment,
and the look of approval in her eyes told him he’d better do as the sorcerer
asked if he hoped for more than bisque when they got to his quarters.
”Very well. Kreacher, from this point until your service to Mr. Rogue is
finished, you will not punish yourself in any manner concerning your service,”
he said to the elf.
”Yes, Headmaster,” the elf croaked, still looking at the floor in shame.
“Kreacher will not punishes himself while in Sorcerer Rogue’s service.”
Both Hermione and Severus looked rather surprised at how Kreacher spoke of
Artimus. Earlier, he had been “the thing.” Obviously, the two had a meeting of
the mind.
”Good. Now, please escort Mr. Rogue back to his quarters,” Snape said evenly.
Artimus nodded.
”Good night Headmistress. Headmaster,” the sorcerer said, turning back toward
the marble staircase, Kreacher sullenly leading the way, his bat-like ears still
flattened.
”He has a kind heart,” Hermione said, watching them depart.
”A definite weakness,” Severus replied, his nose wrinkling slightly as they
reached the landing and descended the stairs. Then he looked at Hermione.
”I suppose you think that a plus,” he said to her, “soft, mushy heart that can
be turned at the slightest inclination.”
”Well, I don’t think a kind heart is a weakness,” she said as they ascended the
narrow stairwell.
Severus snorted.
”It is when you’re supposed to be at war, Hermione,” he replied.
***********************
“I find both of them fascinating, Severus,” Hermione said as she sat across from
the wizard, enjoying her bisque. It was every bit as delicious as the wizard
promised.
”Yes, I agree,” he replied, shocking Hermione.
”Really? Usually, you don’t find anything ‘fascinating,’” Hermione responded,
staring at the wizard, who continued spooning soup into his mouth for a few
seconds before answering her.
”They have magic that operates on a completely different level than ours, have
access to a world we didn’t know existed, travel in a manner completely alien to
us and can probably withstand our strongest spells. Of course I find that
fascinating. But I’m not going to fawn over them because of it,” the Headmaster
replied. “It’s bad form.”
”I find their creation magic very interesting. Imagine, making actual living
creatures. Golems pale in comparison,” Hermione said, fishing a large piece of
lobster tail out of her bisque and eating it, a look of pure bliss crossing her
face
”Yes, but there are drawbacks. Such as their creatures feel pain and must eat,”
Severus said. “A golem feels no pain and has no need for sustenance. We are not
limited to how many we can create at one time and they can last longer than a
week.”
”But we can’t make them instantly, or replace them instantly when they expire.
We have to mold them from clay and then wait to finish the rest of the process,”
Hermione countered. “When the number of their creations falls below seven, they
can create another from what I understand from Dahlia. So actually they can
create an unlimited amount of constructs.”
Hermione and Severus discussed the pros and cons of the sorcerers’ magic as they
understood it over their late meal, then had a bit of a row concerning whether
or not they should report the sorcerers to the Ministry of Magic.
Hermione believed they should as the discovery of another form of magic was
rather earth-shattering.
Severus disagreed.
”If we told of Mr. Rogue’s and Miss Joiner’s arrival, no doubt we would be up to
our ears in Aurors who would then take them to St. Mungo’s and subject them to
all types of studies. They’d be treated like lab nifflers, Hermione. You know
that. Besides, I am certain they wouldn’t go easily and someone would end up
being injured if not outright killed,” the Headmaster said with a scowl. “While
they are here, they are my responsibility, and I would be less than a
responsible host if I turned them over to the machinations of the Ministry.”
”But Severus, the other teachers know about their powers and differences,”
Hermione said to him, “someone is bound to let it slip.”
”I took care of that. What goes on in Hogwarts stays in Hogwarts,” he replied
darkly. “They are under oath not to discuss our guests with anyone outside of
the school.”
Hermione shook her head. Severus ran Hogwarts with the same alacrity he used to
run Slytherin House with. He gave out information only on a need to know basis .
. . to everyone. He was nowhere near as expansive as Albus had been. If Hogwarts
wasn’t so large, he might have made it entirely unplottable, like Durmstrang.
But one thing was obvious, and that was Severus, as unpleasant as he was acting
actually did have the sorcerers’ best interests at heart, much as he did the
wizarding world years ago when he served as a spy for the Order. She should have
realized he would, in his snarky way, protect them as he protected everyone
within his sphere of influence.
If Hermione had been the one in charge, in her excitement she would have made a
grievous mistake in alerting the Ministry of the sorcerers. Severus was
absolutely right. Like any governmental agency concerned with the security of
its environs, the Ministry would have wanted to thoroughly investigate Artimus
and Dahlia and decide if they and their kind were a threat to their world. More
than likely they would want to develop a way to get through their magic as well,
in case they did feel there was a danger. And that meant imprisonment and
experiments, no matter if they labeled it “investigation.”
There was a reason Severus Snape was Headmaster. And that was because he
deliberately thought things through before taking any action. There were
benefits to being Slytherin.
The wizard wiped his mouth and looked at Hermione, trying to frame his next
statement. He wasn’t sure if she was over his assigning Kreacher to Artimus,
although they seemed to have reached a mutual understanding.
He needn’t have worried. His response to Hermione concerning the Ministry made
her recall just what she loved about him the most . . . his protective nature,
and how he tried so hard to make it appear he cared little about others. But no
man could be so vigilant concerning the welfare of others and not care.
Not even Severus Snape.
Hermione knew it was more than duty, although much of it could be pride.
Regardless of what motivated him to be the way he was, a man who cared as much
as Severus Snape was worthy of love.
And she had all he needed and more.
”I think it’s time for me to retire, Severus,” the witch said softly, rising
before he could get up to pull out her chair, “thank you for the bisque.”
The wizard looked disappointed. It seemed she was still miffed at him.
”So, you’re leaving me?” he asked her a bit sourly.
Hermione walked around the table, leaned and planted a kiss on his pale cheek.
”Actually, I’m joining you,” she replied with a little smirk, turning and
walking up the hallway that led from his office to his private quarters.
The wizard watched her for a moment, then quickly rose from the table and
followed her.
**************************************
A/N: I'm kind of sick tonight . . . very nauseous, which is a rarity for me.
I hope I'm not coming down with a stomach virus. But I wrote anyway.
Didn't want to wait too long without posting. I see the orchard ahead. Ah,
lemons. How I've missed them. This story has a rather slow start but it should
be picking up shortly, and big time. I have . . . plans. :::rolling hands
evilly::: Thanks for reading.
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