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 3 ~ Quite a Few Differences

As Artimus walked, he considered his situation, the individuals around him and above all, Hagrid’s attack. How surprised the wizard . . . and that is what he must be, unbelievable as it was . . . seemed to be that the spell he shouted at him didn’t knock him on his ass.

It was a strange word the giant shouted as he flicked his wand at him.

Expelliarmus.

Artimus could kind of understand the root word of it . . . the expel part anyway. Although the spell temporarily stopped his advance, it didn’t work on him the way expected.

And the “Incarcerous” spell, where ropes flew out the wizard’s wand tip to tie them up or incarcerate them on their feet. The ropes didn’t come into contact with them, but he did feel the spell. Would it have worked if it had connected? And if so . . . for how long?

Artimus subtly tested his bindings. They too had been applied by this strange magic. He heard the giant pronounce the word “Bindus” and felt the ropes wrap around his wrists immediately.

Artimus’ eyes narrowed. Perhaps . . . perhaps that magic wouldn’t work as supposed either. How long had they been walking? Five minutes?

He looked over at Dahlia. She was looking straight ahead, but he could tell by the crease between her brows that she was thinking too, quite possibly the same thing he was.

In their experience, creation worked by the rule of seven. Sorcerers couldn’t create what they didn’t know. For example, for a sorcerer to do what . . . the one called Hagrid did . . . make ropes, the sorcerer would have to know all about rope making. Whether it was of natural fibers or synthetic, they had to know the entire process from harvesting or processing, to preparing, to twisting, to the finished product. They didn’t actually have to be able to make a rope by hand, but they did have to be able to visualize the physical creation of that rope in order to make it. And then, it would be temporary, not able to last more than seven days although a skilled sorcerer could fix the duration to be less. The rule of seven worked on everything. Inanimate and animate objects as well, such as living constructs. There were deeper implications as well and more rules concerning seven, but Artimus wasn’t concerned with that now.

Hagrid most likely didn’t know the process when he created the ropes that bound him and Dahlia. His kind of magic worked differently. He could just . . . create without deeper knowledge.

But . . . would that magic work on someone who had different magical rules? Artimus thought not, at least not perfectly judging by the way the earlier spell worked. But yet, the dark wizard who knocked Steede out was able to use his magic on the horse to proper effect.

But Steede wasn’t magical. He was an ordinary horse with an extraordinary gift.

Was it six minutes now?

Artimus looked toward Dahlia again, cutting his eyes slightly back and down, then slowly extending his fingers, one after the other, stopping at seven. Dahlia did her best to look ahead.

Behind them, Snape watched Artimus’ signal to the woman beside him and quickly walked forward, jabbing his wand into the sorcerer’s lower back.

”Whatever it is you are attempting to do, I suggest you don’t do it,” the wizard said tightly, his voice soft and dangerous. “There are more of us than there are of you, and I believe if you could do wandless magic, you would have already utilized it. So . . . don’t do anything stupid.”

Snape’s wand was just above Artimus’ wrists when the bindings disappeared, and the sorcerer grabbed it by the tip, suddenly spinning, his hands free as Snape’s eyes widened in surprise.

On the other side, Dahlia was also loose, and she was tossing the staff members away from her like rag dolls as Snape and Artimus wrestled desperately. Hermione pointed her wand at Dahlia first as Madame Hooch and Sybil Trelawney went flying. Dahlia wasn’t actually hitting them, just tossing whoever touched her off of her rather painfully.

”Stupefy!” Hermione yelled, hitting the sorceress with the stunning hex.

Nothing happened and Dahlia was free for a moment, before she was hit with several more stunners and even a “Reducto” cast by an irate Sybil intent on blood.

Still nothing happened.

From a distance Hagrid heard the witch’s yell and the ensuing bedlam. .

”Tha’s “Ermione! Be right back!” he said to the unconscious horse, taking off at a run across the grounds in the direction of the noise. Hagrid was big, but when he needed to . . . the half-giant could run. Now he could see robes tangling and staff members flying.  The wizard chugged across the grounds like the Hogwarts Express.

Severus and Artimus were still wrestling, spinning in place, evenly matched, tangling each others’ arms and legs up so no blows could be thrown. Sinistra, Vector and Flitwick were casting stunners at Artimus with the same results.

No results.

Suddenly Dahlia leapt on Severus’ back, trying to tear him away from Artimus as everyone continued to try to disable them by magic. Hermione threw her wand down and grabbed at Dahlia’s long hair, pulling on it hard.

Hermione really didn’t know how to fight well physically, but no one was going to just beat up on her man.

”Ow!” Dahlia yelled, trying to grab Hermione with one hand as she pulled on Severus’ throat with the other.

Finally Hagrid arrived, barreled in, snatched Artimus from Severus and put him into a terrible bear hug. Artimus was winded and couldn’t break the giant’s iron hold. He began to wheeze, turning red, then purple as he couldn’t draw breath.

Dahlia grabbed Hermione, locked her arm around her throat and pressed one hand against the side of her head, bending it painfully at an awkward angle.

”I’ll break her fucking neck! I swear! Put him down. Now!” Dahlia hissed, her broad nostrils flared so they looked even broader.

This wasn’t Dahlia's usual mode of operation. Threatening to take a life was completely out of character for the sorceress, but desperate situations called for desperate actions. She was prepared to do what she had to in order to save herself and Artimus.

“Hagrid, put him down,” Snape ordered, his black eyes on Dahlia and the witch he cared for.

Hagrid gave Artimus one more squeeze and dropped him on the ground. The sorcerer gasped for air, his head between his legs for a moment. No one moved. It was clear their spells were ineffective on these two, which was unbelievable.

”Back away from him,” Dahlia said to Hagrid, “back the fuck up!”

She pushed Hermione’s head a bit and the witch let out a painful cry.

Hagrid reluctantly backed up and Dahlia walked over to Artimus, half dragging Hermione with her.

”Are you all right?” she asked the sorcerer softly.

Artimus drew in a final deep breath, stood up and glared at Hagrid for a moment, then looked around at everyone. The staff all looked absolutely murderous, Trelawney’s scarves in tatters and one lens of her large glasses was cracked. Madam Sprout was holding her back. Dahlia had flipped her completely over on to her back, and the rounded witch wasn’t meant for that kind of treatment. But she had grabbed Dahlia so she got what she got. Madam Hooch limped noticeably, her ankle apparently twisted from landing wrong.

”I’ve been better,” he said shortly, “who’s got our wands? Give them here.”

”I do,” Hermione rasped.

With Severus watching him, Artimus rummaged through Hermione’s robes pocket and produced the wands. He immediately conjured his sword. Dahlia released Hermione, pushing her hard into Severus who caught her, his eyes glinting as the sorceress also created a sword and tucked her wand into her waistband.

”I think the odds just got better,” Artimus said to Snape, his eyes narrowed.

Snape considered the situation. He knew how to use a sword quite well, but none of the others did. They counted on magic. It seemed that their magic was ineffective against the two sorcerers, although he didn’t understand why. It had to have something to do with the sorcerer counting out seven fingers.

”Imperio!” Madam Hooch suddenly cried, pointing her wand at Dahlia, her golden eyes full of malice.

Dahlia simply blinked at her.

”Oh damn,” Madam Hooch said. “I was sure an Unforgivable would work.”

”Maybe we should try the Killing Curse,” Trelawney hissed, pissed about her scarves and glasses, her hair standing all over her head Phyllis Diller style.

”Tempting as it is, that would be murder, Sybil,” Severus said in a low voice, “and besides, I doubt it would work on these two. There is something happening here. I believe negotiation is in order.”

”Now you want to negotiate,” Dahlia growled at him as Hermione looked at her hatefully. The big bitch had almost broken her neck. “Bring us our horses. How’s that for negotiation? We just want to leave here . . . wherever here is.”

She looked at Artimus quickly before turning her eyes back on her opponents.

”I’m never going to try to visit England again,” she swore. “Some outing this turned out to be.”

Snape considered this. So, they were on an outing? Perhaps they didn’t mean to be on the grounds. The war had ended over a decade ago, but one couldn’t be too careful. Snape was a lot like Alastor Moody had been. He believed in constant vigilance. Still, this was something to work with.

”You were on an outing?” he asked the sorceress.

”I just said that,” Dahlia snapped back at him.

”How did you come to be here at Hogwarts?” he asked her, forcing himself to sound civil.

”Oh, NOW you want to politely ask questions,” she said disparagingly.

”You have to consider that I found one of my staff members pinned to the ground by a boulder, the victim of an attack,” Snape said. “Politeness was the last thing on my mind. If you hadn’t attacked him . . .”

”We didn’t attack him, he attacked us when we wouldn’t hand over our wands to him. He tried to tie us up,” Dahlia spat as she looked over at Hagrid, who shrugged.

”I couldn’ let yeh in the castle armed, not knowin’ wha; yeh were about,” the half-giant said. “Yer could’ve been plannin’ trouble fer all I know.”

”Well, we weren’t going to give a total stranger our wands,” she snapped back at him, then looked directly at Snape.

”Would you have just handed over your wand in a strange place?” she asked him.

Snape studied her.

”No. I suppose I wouldn’t,” he responded.

Hermione didn’t look quite so angry now, but she still rubbed her neck. It ached.

”Well, then maybe you can understand how we felt. We tried to leave and then, you come and capture us. What did you expect us to do? Go along peacefully? For all we knew, you planned to bleed us or something,” Dahlia continued.

”Bleed you? What in the world are you talking about?” Hermione said, stepping forward a bit.

Artimus looked at Dahlia and shook his head slightly. He wasn’t giving these people any more information than necessary.

Suddenly, a shrill whinny of pain sounded in the distance.

”That’s Steede!” Artimus hissed, now brandishing his sword at Snape angrily.

”I swear, if anything is wrong with my horse . . .” he began as Hagrid took off at a run back across the grounds.

Dahlia looked after him, her head cocked. It seemed the big galoot had a real soft spot for animals if not people.

”Get out of my way,” Artimus growled at the group, who parted as the sorcerer ran after Hagrid, his cloak billowing behind him.

Dahlia lowered her sword when she saw no one tried to stop him, then took off at a run behind him.

Snape, Hermione and the others watched them go, then Snape turned to his staff.

”All of you back inside. Whoever needs treatment at the infirmary, go,” he said to them. “But I expect you all to conduct classes. A few bruises are no reason to shirk your duties.”

No one dared complain to Snape about his attitude. After all, he was a wizard who used to teach class while still suffering the effects of the Cruciatus curse after being tortured by the Dark Lord. This was nothing compared to that.

As they turned toward the castle, it was clear to see they were all quite demoralized. Magic had always been something they could count on being there for them, but now, after two unarmed strangers withstood their worst . . . it was as if magic meant nothing. Slowly, they all departed, Hermione starting to go with them.

”Except you, Headmistress,” Snape said to Hermione, placing one pale hand on her arm gently. She looked up at him and nodded, saying nothing.

Snape looked across the grounds at the people standing around Steede, who was on his feet, his right front leg held awkwardly. Artimus bent and ran his hands over the animal’s leg, then let out a stream of obscenities, gesticulating at Hagrid wildly with both hands, the sword gone. Dahlia caught his arm as he turned back toward Severus, who looked at him calmly. He wrenched away.

”I believe we have a situation here,” he said to Hermione as Artimus stalked back across the grounds toward them.

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A/N: Wow. That was fun to write. ;) Thanks for reading.

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