Everything I Do, I Do It For You

Chapter 17: Cornelius Ups the Ante

Doctor Andrew Lopes was lounging at his desk. He had his feet stretched out, one on top of the other, on the corner of his desk. Chewing on the plastic ink-filled utensil in his right hand, he leaned back in the chair, as it groaned beneath him-almost matching his inner thoughts. Hermione’s file lay open in his hands; his eyes barely glanced at the contents. They’d had to set her hand again as she had broken it along the third metacarpal. The first and second were already broken, so they had to put a more complex cast on it this time.

His thoughts were interrupted by a crude beeping. The doctor turned his head towards the sound and watched as the fax machine came to life, spitting out information filled paper. Placing the file down while swinging his long legs off the desk top, Andrew got up and made his way over to the machine.

‘Finally!’ He thought to himself as he saw the paper slowly etch its way out of the machine. A loud beep signified the end of transmission, the doctor quickly picked up the sheets, his eyes eager to read the puzzle pieces in front of him. A friend down at the local police station had been asked for a favour. It had not really been a lot to ask, and in the end the Senior Constable had merely said he would see what he could do.

He stared at the black and white copied picture of Hermione Granger. She couldn’t have been more than eleven years old. However, he knew it was her; as the Hermione currently in his facility had the same bushy hair, nose, lips and eyes as the one in the picture. She had of course matured, but he could tell without a doubt that this was the same girl-now young woman, in his care.

He continued to look at the police file which described, in detail, the murder of her parents. It stated that the daughter had never been found and therefore could not be questioned as to her parent’s murders. The case was still open with no new leads. Every lead had been followed through, but to no avail… as they had all led to dead ends. Reading on further, he came to the still shots of the bodies of Mr. Dean and Margaret Granger. Mr Granger had been found in lounge room of the family home, he had been beaten and tortured. The coroner report showed that a heart attack had been the cause of death. Looking over the coroners report, he noticed that the ring finger of his left hand had been removed and was never found. Andrews’s heart skipped a beat and with shaky hands, he quickly scrolled down the report to Mrs Granger’s autopsy. She had been raped multiple times, beaten, tortured. The same ring finger was missing; curiously enough her cause of death was also a heart attack. He shook his head. Could Hermione somehow have been involved in this double homicide of her parents? Stranger things had happened over the years, and he had learnt quickly never to dismiss anything.

Making his way back over to the desk, selecting Hermione’s file, he slipped the fax into it, and sat back down. Andrew reached over the stack of books, picked up the telephone, and dialed the number to the police station. Senior Constable, Michael Gibb, answered the phone. After the pleasantries were dispensed with, Andrew called in yet another favour.

***

Severus Apparated to the snow covered grounds in the wilderness of Wyoming. He had inherited this piece of paradise, from some distant relative that he never knew. Apparently he had been some sort of pioneer, and set up his logged dwelling here-away from muggles and their prying eyes. It suited his purpose nicely, as only the Headmaster knew of its location and existence.

He had spent many a summer here getting away from dreary Scotland and Hogwarts. However, it was now winter, and a cold one at that. He’d always known that he would come back to Hogwarts at the new term’s start, however this time he wasn’t sure when he would be back-if at all. He couldn’t think of that now… He pushed it to the far recesses of his mind; he had a job to do-one which Albus had placed in his capable hands.

Placing the bottle top, that was the port key to his home, in his robes, he lifted his wand and spoke an intricate succession of words to lift the wards placed around his property. Stepping quickly over the boundary, he turned around and repeated the process.

Making his way to the front door, he paused for a second to take in the herb garden he had planted nearly five summers ago. It appeared to be in excellent form as the status charm he had placed over it at the end of the summer still held. Most of the plants were in full bloom, and he turned his gaze to the front door. Turning the door knob, he walked into the entrance hallway shaking off the bits of snow on his coat, as he walked briskly to the master bedroom.

His inherited dwelling was enchanted to give the impression of being a lot less significant on the outside, looking like a run down hovel. With the wards in place and a few disillusion charms, he had never had any problem with wandering back packers. Inside it was simple-but splendid. It held a master bedroom, four guest bedrooms each with their own bathroom, a somewhat large kitchen including an immense pantry and cellar, a library, and sitting room. The lower levels held his own private lab and brewing rooms-not that anyone had ever been here before-besides the Headmaster. But had they been, he would be quite comfortable in the fact that he would probably not have to see them for at least a week.

Opening the door to the master bedroom, Severus pointed his wand at the fireplace and a roaring blaze erupted. He walked over to the bureau and placed all of his belonging upon it and with a quick chant; his personal effects begun to unshrink. Pocketing his wand, Severus threw himself upon his bed.

Interlacing his hands, he put them behind his head and stared at the ceiling… he had to think. If Albus’ words, or lack there of, were true he had to come up with some sort of strategy. He had read it on the Headmasters face and buried just below the surface of his eyes, the fact that the brainless Fudge had ordered Albus to take him off Miss Granger’s case, but what was he playing at? It was true that Severus held no grudge against the dim-witted Minister, besides the fact that he was a lackey that never possessed one true thought for himself, and not an ounce of courage in his mind-numbing head. What was he so afraid of? After all Miss Granger was just a witch. True-she was brilliant, but she was a muggle born… so why did he care? Did he just want to keep face for the newspapers and the reporters who had caught wind of Voldemorts defeat? Then why tell Albus to take him off the case? The Potions Master could feel a dull throbbing behind his temples. Kneading his fingertips into the side of his head he let out a sigh. He would have to reflect on this for a while and then no doubt-the answers would come to him.

***

Cornelius Fudge knew he had taken care of one problem. His biggest problem was Miss Hermione Granger. However, he hadn’t foreseen his next dilemma-that meddling, soft headed Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. He would have to come up with something brilliant to squash the old fool’s intrusive ways. But…what?

‘Damn it all to hell.’ He reflected thumping his head on the desk in front of him. And then it came to him, like a light at the end of a rather dark, long tunnel. Why hadn’t he thought of this sooner? He brought his head up from the desk, a giddy smile creeping across his face. After all, he ran the Daily Prophet, and had half the reporters from various other wizarding papers eating out of his hand. He would start a scandal that would have the “Great” Albus Dumbledore kept so busy that he wouldn’t have time to look for that witch, Miss Granger.

Then there was the problem of Severus Snape. The man was like a demon. From all reports, Snape hated Miss Granger; however seeing that his superior had put him on the case, he knew he wouldn’t stop. At least he’d bought himself a week…two tops. If…he played his cards right.

‘What was with Snape anyway?’ He thought to himself. ‘What does Dumbledore hold over his head to make him follow his orders unquestionably?’

It couldn’t be loyalty as Snape had proved himself faithful to no one when he turned on the Dark Lord; going to the side of the light-hence becoming a traitor to his own beliefs. It didn’t matter anyway; he could easily be taken care of, if…and when…it came down to that.

***

Hermione was being led like a prisoner meeting the executioner…to “the room”. She called it “the room”, because although they all looked the same this room was different. She knew this was where she would reveal her deepest, darkest secrets to the jury of one man, Doctor Lopes. This was after all, the interrogation room; well maybe not that harsh, but it sure felt that way to Hermione.

Her sides were flanked by two orderlies. They had a hold of her upper arms, and were leading her to “the room.” She wanted to pull away…run…anything. She did not want to face what “the room” held. She wasn’t strong enough to resist, so she was half dragged-half held up-led stumbling along the corridor to “the room” which would bring to light her sentence.

She staggered along, trying to delay the inevitable in her trance like state. She had too many various drugs in her system, now completely devoid of the fine motor skills necessary for walking.

Hermione felt the grip on her right arm tighten. She knew it was "the sadistic bastard” as she called him, on her right side; she would bear a bruise tomorrow. She looked up to find him smirking at her. She would not say a word as her words are what got her into this mess in the first place. The young patient so badly wanted to wipe that self-righteous smirk off his face; knowing she couldn’t, she replied in kind with a small smile-all the while thinking how great it would be to help him get rid of his. This made "the sadistic bastards” grip get even tighter, and she quickly looked away, wincing at the pain.

They approached “the room” her heart rate increasing. Robert Finn opened the door, and led her through. The other orderly let go of her arm, placing himself by the open doorway. "The sadistic bastard,” Robert Finn, placed her roughly in a chair with her back towards the door. The doctor wasn’t here yet, and spared Hermione a few precious moments to collect her jumbled thoughts. Finn stood at her back, with his left hand resting on her shoulder. She wanted to toss it off, hating the fact that he was touching her, as she involuntarily shuddered.

Robert felt her shudder and smiled. ‘Good. I make her uncomfortable.’ He wasn’t about to take his hand, or his eyes, off the witch.

She could feel his penetrating glare on the back of her head. ‘I won’t let him get to me.’ Hermione thought, as she schooled her face to a blank expression imagining she was elsewhere.

Doctor Andrew Lopes came walking up the hallway with his clipboard, file, and tape recorder in hand. Orderly Henry Mackley, who was relatively new to Calan Park, stood by the open doorway. The doctor greeted him with a nod before continuing on into the room. His eyes went straight to Hermione, who was sitting slumped over in the chair; her head was down, and she was gazing intently at something on the floor. Andrew made his way around the table, pulling out the wooden chair, and took his seat. ‘She didn’t even look at me.’ Andrew thought to himself as he sat down.

Robert was standing behind her, his left hand resting roughly on her shoulder. As soon as Doctor Lopes looked at him, he removed his hand slowly and folded his arms. Andrew placed the file and the recorder on the desk. He cradled his clipboard; Hermione didn’t even bat an eye lid.

Clearing his throat, he said in a condescending voice, “How are we today Hermione?”

She didn’t move. Scribbling quickly on his clipboard, he placed it on the table, along with his pen, and took the file in both hands. He glanced inside at the black and white pictures, which he had obtained from Senior Constable Gibb; before deciding his next bold move. It was time for a little bit of shock therapy.

***

A/N: What kind of shock therapy does the good doctor have in mind? Hmmm!!!

I know I have been slack getting this up but it truly hasn’t been my fault as I had it written some 5 weeks ago, however unfortunately my BETA ‘eclipse’ has disappeared and I had to employ a new BETA which I want to thank here… Cheers Jessica!!!

As always reviews are most welcome and help feed me for the up and coming chapters. This is by no means going to be a short story and I wanted to show all of you some of the anguish going through Hermione’s mind in the mental institution… Not to worry though I won’t be sharing her entire experience and it will be moving along in a little bit.

Also I am fixing up, with the help of another beta Carol, chapters 1 - 10 if anyones interested!!!

Disclaimer:- Not mine, hers…. JK’s!!!!