A Different Kind of Magic--UNDERGOING EDIT

Everything belongs to JK Rowling. I make no moola off this. Warning: Violence, graphic attempted rape, forced sexual situation. You have been warned.





Hermione paced the room as the sun started to rise. Past the window, ‘round the bed, back again, past the window, around the chair, past the door, around the bed, past the window.



It was driving Severus insane. “Would you bloody well stop your infernal pacing, Hermione?” he hissed. “You’re driving me mad!”



She pounded her fist into the bed in frustration. “What am I going to do, Severus? Brian is going to send for me soon, and then I’ll have to… have to… Oh, God, Severus, what am I going to do?” Hermione buried her face in her hands, unable to think, wracking her brain for any viable solution to avoid the impending punishment set before her.



With his lips pursed into a thin, white line, Professor Snape gave her the only advice he could. “You do what you have to do to survive, Hermione.” She had chanced whispering Brian’s threats to Severus when she heard Ralph snoring, during the early hours of the morning. Severus had risked holding her close for a brief moment, pain unlike any other stabbing through him at the thought of what she was about to endure.



Hermione nodded, refusing to look at him. Ralph poked his head in the door, gesturing for Hermione. “Hey girlie, the boss is calling for you. You’d better be quick about it; he’s in a right foul mood this morning.” She silently slid by him, disappearing down the hall. Ralph shoved a fat finger at Severus, who glared back at him with murder in his eyes. “You just watch who you’re shooting daggers at, you faggin’ Death Eater. You make one feckin’ move, and I’m going to take you out, you filthy, friggin’ poofter!” He laughed maniacally, shutting the door on Snape.



Severus closed his eyes tight, fists clenched with helplessness. He was not a praying kind of man, but in this instance, if there were powers that be, he asked them to keep Hermione safe, so she could live another day.



Brian was waiting for her, perched on the edge of his desk in his office. All pretenses had been dropped after the previous night’s performance. Nothing but pure evil oozed from every pore. The door clicked shut behind Hermione with a snap. She was already shaking, sobbing softly in futile supplication. He stood, dropped his trousers, and grabbed a fistful of her hair. Her sobs were drowned into gags, and he was shoving her mouth onto his straining erection, filthy things spewing from his mouth in a torrent of verbal abuse.



Hermione couldn’t help it. His cock stank, feeling slimy as it hit the back of her throat, sending a stream of vomit up her esophagus and into her mouth. She pushed back against her attacker, fighting to maintain control. Brian snarled at her, “If you puke on me, you fuckin’ bitch, I’ll make your Death Eater scum friend watch you hang from the rafters in the Conservatory.”



There was no possible way she could go down on his cock anymore. She was going to vomit! Oh, sweet mercy, please let this end! she begged in her mind. She continued to struggle, fighting against his grasp, managing to rake a path down his arms with her nails.



Brian struck her sharply across her temple. “Don’t you dare use your nails on me, you fucking whore!” he screamed in anger. He reached back across the desk, grappling for something in an open drawer. The business end of a cold, metal barrel jabbing into her temple instantly quelled her urge to fight as he leaned in close to her. “Keep fighting, and find out what happens, Hermione. Just test me. You’re just begging for it, aren’cha, sweetheart? Now, you have two choices. One is to suck my fat, sweaty cock, and take my load down that precious throat of yours, or I can pull this trigger and end it now. You choose. Now.” She heard the click as he cocked the gun.



Tears streaming down her face, she lowered her face to his groin, sucking him off while he laughed at her torment.



Brian tucked his flaccid cock back into his pants after she had finished, her head hanging in defeat. Her knees were raw from being on the hard stone floor for so long. She tried not to sick back up the vile contents of her stomach. “Get up, bitch, I want you to send a message to your precious Headmistress and seal your fate,” he barked at her.



He indicated to some parchment and ink on the side of his desk. “I want you to write to Minerva that there has been a change of plans in your schedule. You will be returning to Ministry headquarters immediately for top-secret reassignment, until further notice. This will be your last communication for quite some time, so tell her not to worry, and send our warmest regards to Hogwarts.” His fake smile slithered off his face and down her back with a chill. “Now, I’m going to wash your wretch off my dick, and when I get back, I expect this to be ready to send off with an owl. You understand?” Hermione quickly nodded and took up the quill.



He disappeared into the adjoining private loo and turned on the tap. Hermione desperately looked around for something, anything, she didn’t know what. Her eyes fell upon his half-finished breakfast and the bit of orange juice still left in the glass. She got a sudden flash of inspiration, dipped the quill in the orange juice, and set to scribbling at the very bottom of the page. It was their only hope at salvation.



A few minutes later, Brian returned from the loo to find the note in order. He dismissed Hermione, reminding her about their scheduled rendezvous that evening.



Severus could see from the look on her face, she had been coerced into performing some form of perverse pleasure for Brian. Her eyes were dry, as if no more tears could be shed from the dry well set upon her tainted character. A nasty welt was forming above her right temple; it would swell the eye shut by the following day. She wouldn’t even meet his gaze, and hot shame flushed across her cheeks. She sat upon the floor with her arms across her knees, rocking, rocking, rocking. The professor came to kneel behind his healer, encircling her with tenderness and compassion. For a long time, he said nothing, just gave her his presence and support while they rocked together on the floor. The cruel spring sun shone down upon them, mocking.



They took their noon meal together, feeling as if it were to be their last. Hermione clutched at his hands when the guard wasn’t checking on them. She had a death grip on him, desperately afraid to let go. Severus knew, that when the guard called for her to go to that motherfucker’s office this evening, no matter what, he was not going to let her go. Hermione was not going to suffer Deidre’s fate, even if he had to rip out every last throat in the entire building with his bare hands.