Everything I Do, I Do It For You

Chapter 20:- Hermione’s Despair

A brilliant flash of blue-white light erupted from Severus’ wand. Pettigrew, being the recipient of this enchantment, suddenly found himself back in his human form, quivering and hunched down on all fours. His nose twitched, perhaps as an after-effect of the spell that had just brought him unwillingly out of his Animagus form.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you now,” Severus sneered, his wand still pointed at Peter’s body.

“Oh please . . . Severus,” Peter faltered. His hands were methodically rubbing together, a bad habit he had picked up, as he slowly got to his feet. Severus took a step forward, and Peter moved carefully so as not to aggravate him, as he knew he was dangerous.

Severus was still looking at him as if expecting an answer. Peter was really quite spineless, and would sell his own mother if he could save his hide. “I know things,” he stammered, still being careful not to provoke the wizard standing before him.

“Don’t we all,” Severus replied with an intense gaze.

“Secret things, things the Dark Lord didn’t share with anyone else.” Peter said, thinking quickly. He thought he saw a flicker in Severus’ eyes, but it was only there for a second before he cloaked his expression back to one of complete indifference.

“I’m listening,” Severus said as he masked his enthusiasm with a bored voice.

Peter had to think quickly. It was his life on the line and he was rather fond of it.

“What do you want to know?” Peter asked as he straightened himself up a little more.

Severus eyes narrowed into slits - which Pettigrew unmistakably took to mean that if he was lying he would pay.

“I will make you beg for death long before it comes to you if you are playing me for a fool.” Severus’ tone was guarded, yet it held sincerity. Peter knew that he was not playing a game with this treacherous Death Eater anymore and thought it best to come clean. He shivered, as if someone had walked over his grave, and considering where they both were standing, it seemed fitting.

“Miss Granger is missing,” Severus began; he spoke every word in his monotonic way.

“But why would you care if that Mudblood is missing?” Peter asked, trembling.

Severus reacted with lighting speed. He reached over and seized Peter by the throat with his left hand, pressing his wand roughly into his chest. Peter’s eyes widened in fear.

“I suggest if you know anything about her whereabouts that you come clean now or . . . you will suffer the same fate as that of your precious Dark Lord.” Severus ended his little speech, his heart beating faster than normal; but he was careful to disguise it with the coldness of his features.

Peter, looking up into Severus’ eyes was stunned. He searched the dark man before him, looking for anything that might give him hope. When he found none, he immediately crumpled to his knees and placed his head in his hands. Severus let him drop to the ground, but carefully kept his wand aimed at him.

“Noooooooo! It’s not true. The Dark Lord cannot be gone. Severus, tell me it’s not true?” Peter, taking his hands from his face, looked up at the man before him, searching him for anything that might indicate he was lying. Upon finding nothing, he looked defeated. “But he will be back!?” Peter spoke in little more than a whisper. “The Dark Lord told me he would never die; he would not leave me here all alone.”

“Tell me what I want to know now,” Severus replied in an uncaring manner.

***

Robert was fuming. Never had he had a patient who was so difficult to handle. Most of the wizards and witches that had come into Calan Park had succumbed to his taunting and the secret medication he had been slipping them easily, but not Hermione Granger.

‘What is with this witch?’ he thought to himself.

He had spoken to Doctor Lopes about upping the witch’s medication; he’d made such a convincing case that Lopes had agreed.

He made his way down to the boiler room where he knew his owl, Fydles, would be waiting for him. Fydles was a very special owl and he knew that he would have cost the Minister a lot of gallons, as these types of owls were hard to come by. Fydles could blend into his surroundings and even turn invisible at will. Although Robert was just a squib, he was not at all naïve to the wizarding world.

He smirked to himself thinking how clever the Minister was, as he left no stone unturned. He had to get a letter off to the Minister - the sooner, the better. He grabbed for a piece of scrap paper and a pen and started writing.

Minister,

Hermione Granger’s progress is slow. I have never before seen a witch with such a strong resistance to the potions you have sent me. I have upped her dosage from one drop to two and will let you know of her progress.

Your Faithful Servant,

Robert Finn

Smirking to himself, he attached the scroll to Fydles’ leg and watched him fly away. He had never used the owl for anything other than the messages to the Minister, so Fydles needed no directions. He stood quickly and made his way back up to the common room.

***

“There is a man,” Peter began in almost a whisper, “who frequents a shop in Knockturn Alley.”

Severus was getting impatient with Peter’s constant babblings, and he spat in an icy tone, “If you don’t hurry up and say whatever it is you are trying to say, then I will Crucio you until you end up like the Longbottoms - do you understand me?” His eyes held a burning fire within their depths; Peter just shuddered and looked down at his feet.

“This man is the one you seek,” Peter sputtered. “I overheard the Dark Lord speaking about him to Lucius; he was telling him that he knows all kinds of spells . . . dark spells that have been forgotten. The Dark Lord wanted Lucius to find him and bring him to him, but I assume he never found him.”

Severus looked thoughtful for a second before he sneered.

“And just why exactly should I believe you, Woooorrrmmmtttaaaiiillll,“ he taunted. His wand had never even so much as faltered in his hand; he had been holding it pointed at Peter’s chest for some fifteen minutes.

“What would I earn by lying to you, Severus?” Peter asked, straightening up a little.

“How dare you address me so informally? You will refer to me as Sir unless I state otherwise. Contrary to popular belief, I despise you, Wormtail, and quite frankly, I cannot even stand to be in your presence, you . . . pathetic, diminutive man.” Severus spoke with venom in his voice; the look on his face was clearly one of loathing.

Peter looked up at the wizard standing before him. His whole body and mind screamed at him to make a run for it, but he stayed put as if frozen to the spot. He felt a warm trickle down his leg and as he looked down he saw, to his absolute horror, that he had lost control of his bodily functions.

Severus’ look of revulsion was unmistakable as he spoke, “And what, pray tell, is the name of this man?” Severus was jumping up and down in his mind - he still possessed the power to make lesser wizards afraid of him. Once again, however, his appearance showed none of these feelings.

“Tolmie Crobobin,” Peter replied, not even taking his eyes off the ground.

***

It was almost time for Robert to knock off work and go home. However, he wanted to make sure that Fydles had returned with an answer to his previous letter.

Making his way down the now deserted corridor, he shone his flashlight into the small windows that marked the darkened rooms. Everything seemed to be in order; no patients were out of bed, so he proceeded down to the boiler room.

Looking up to Fydles’ customary roosting spot above one of the heaters, he was satisfied to see him calmly perched there picking at some of his feathers. He outstretched his arm and the owl flew down to land on it. He stroked the bird for a couple of seconds before quickly plucking the scroll from his leg. Fydles let out a low hoot and immediately returned to his previous spot on the heater.

Taking a seat at his desk, he unravelled the scroll and read its contents.

Mr. Finn,

Hermione is indeed a very powerful witch, one who can destroy everything we here at the Ministry have worked so hard for. Therefore we must proceed with caution. We have to make her memories fade slowly, so as to make it believable to the doctor that it is *he* who is helping her.

I would like weekly updates from you as to her progress.

Please note that this letter will incinerate once you have completed reading it.

Minister Cornelius Fudge

The scroll burst into flames just as promised; Robert dropped it hastily. He hated when the Minster did that, but he also admired the man for having enough intelligence not to have his plans fall into the wrong hands.

A scowl passed over Robert’s face. ‘He didn’t say anything about the medication, so I assume it is fine,’ he thought before pushing himself away from the desk. He looked down at the small pile of ashes before taking the stairs two at a time.

***

Hermione awoke to find herself in a room. Her head swam and she felt dizzy, confused. She opened her eye, and then found that her body didn’t respond to her will as she tried to move. Summoning all of her strength, she thought of the task at hand, and very slowly inched her head up to take in her surroundings. She noticed that the side rails were up on the bed in which she was lying, probably so she wouldn’t fall out; she took in the fact that she wasn’t tied down, and she gave a half-hearted whoop mentally. Looking ever so slowly down her left arm, she saw the I.V. Lifting up her broken hand, she attempted to pluck at it; but as she curled her fingers around the line, she felt an excruciating pain shoot up from her fingertips, instantly climbing its way up to her shoulder. ‘Damn it,’ she belittled herself, taking her hand away from the I.V.

She used every ounce of her strength to push herself up into a seated position using her good arm. Once there, her breathing came in short, sharp gasps. She willed herself to control her breathing. It finally slowed down a bit and she continued in her plan. Bringing her left arm up to her mouth, she used her teeth and yanked at the line to the I.V. until it came free. It stung like hell, as the needle had been placed at such an angle as to make it unwise to pull it out by oneself.

Gazing down, she noticed a stream of blood slowly making its way through the rather large needle mark in her arm. Horror suddenly entered her mind - she had seen too much bloodshed in the last month. Her eyes widened as she finally knew what she had to do. Searching for the needle, her eye grazed over the floor. ‘There!’ She saw it lying just beside the bed. Hermione bent over, although it pained her, and managed to reach it. Straightening herself up again, with her prize in her left hand, she took a deep breath. Her hand plunged the needle straight into her jugular. Feeling no pain, she lay back against the pillow, and closed her eye.

***

A/N:- Oh NO Hermione, what have you done? I'm evil I know to leave you on such a cliff hanger.

I have a little bit of writer block at the moment. I have this other story in my head which won't leave me alone... Don't worry I am taking notes and won't start it until this one is complete.

As always please read and review, as reviews make my day!!! (AHHHHHHHH)

Thanks goes out to my beta's Jessica and LydiaCarol... Cheers girls.

Disclaimer:- OC are mine!!! If you recognize something or someone, then I claim no credit....