A Different Kind of Magic--UNDERGOING EDIT

Many, many, many thanks to J.K. Rowling for allowing me the use of her characters, none of which I profit from in any way. Extra special kudos to VIVAviavious, my lovely beta for corrections and in-character dialogue preparations. Kisses to readers and reviewers for keeping this project a delight to slave over.

Chapter 22 – Friends and Scoundrels

The room reeked of sex. Harry noticed it as soon as his feet touched the floor of the dungeon. His nose wrinkled in disgust, and his gaze flew from the smirking Potions professor in front of him to the sleeping form of Hermione on a bed to his left. Surely not. God, no. He couldn’t even fathom it. An indiscriminate flick of his wand banished the offensive odor from the room. He looked discreetly at Minerva to see if she had noticed, but if she had, there was no indication.

Minerva was too busy locking gazes with Severus in a battle of silent wills to notice much else. Smug as ever. I bet he thinks I am going to allow him to be a martyr while he’s shipped off to Azkaban. Well, he’s got a nasty shock coming. I suppose we better get this over with.

“Severus, it grieves me to do what we are about to do. I take it you know the purpose of our visit.”

Features of masked indifference stared right through her in repose.

“Harry, would you do the honors?”

Harry strode to where Snape was seated and hesitated. “I’m sorry, Professor, I’m under orders –“

“Harry!” shot out Minerva’s warning. “Just do it! It will be less painful for him if it is done quickly.”

Severus startled then. What was the crone up to? Were they giving him no choice after all? Before the last word was out of her mouth, he shot out of the chair and slammed into a surprised Harry, grappling for the young man’s wand. Harry was knocked off his feet to the floor, and the object of attention was sent flying from his hand to land at the foot of Hermione’s bed. Snape landed on top of him, his tall frame settling heavily over Harry, as the two struggling wizards knocked heads and tumbled headlong into the unforgiving stone of the fireplace.

Minerva barely had time to react and jump out of the way to avoid the tangle of limbs and swearing bodies. She was unable to cast a spell for fear of injuring Harry in the process. A wrestling match ensued with Severus landing one, two, then three punches in quick succession across Harry’s jaw and nose. Blood spurted from Harry’s broken nose, and his knee came up to contact Snape’s groin.

The professor doubled over in extreme pain while Harry pushed him off, errantly thrusting a frustrated kick to the other man’s injured leg. Severus roared in agony, simultaneously curling into a fetal position to favor his groin, and rolling over to protect his injured leg.

Harry retrieved his wand, hell-bent on teaching the greasy bastard a lesson.

Headmistress McGonagall instantly drew her wand and trained it between Harry and the broken wizard in black on the floor.

“No, Harry! That will be quite enough! I will not have this continue like a common pub brawl. This entire situation has dissolved into enough tomfoolery. I will fix your injuries, and then I will brook no hesitation in getting this over with.”

Harry’s jaw was set forward in forced defiance, his brow furrowed between rage toward Snape and loyalty to the headmistress. Slowly, he lowered his wand and bent his head in resignation.

Minerva quickly stepped over Snape and told Harry, “Now hold still, Mr. Potter. This is going to hurt, but only momentarily.” With a sickening crick and a yelp, his nose was set back into its proper place, and the blood was magically cleaned from his face.

Minerva softened her gaze when Hermione padded up behind Harry, looking between her old classmate, Minerva, and the professor groaning on the floor. Harry spun around as delight spread across his face in a wide grin. “Hermione!” He gave her a big bear hug, and she returned his embrace, tears beginning to fall down her face.

“As much as I would love for this to be a joyous reunion, Miss Granger, we are here on business. Mr. Potter has duties to attend to at the Ministry in a short while, and we are merely here to ascertain the level of trust we can expect from our professor and yourself. I am sure you understand the necessity of such a request, Miss Granger. Harry will perform Legilimency on both you and Professor Snape. I must request for you to return to your bed and draw the curtain. This is certain to not be a pleasant experience for you to witness.”

Hermione reluctantly complied, darting a quick, morose look at Severus before releasing Harry, before nodding to Minerva and returning to her bedside.

“She looks dreadful!” Harry hissed to Minerva as she drew close.

“Yes, I know, my dear boy. She is doing much better than when we first brought her here. There will be plenty of time for you to catch up once she is secure with the Weasley’s. No more dilly-dallying. Let’s get on with it.”

“Severus, I am afraid this is for your own good. You always were a stubborn man.”

“I will not submit to your or Mr. Potter’s games, Minerva. You’ve done enough harm for one day. Leave us or carry out your threat. I am not one of your or our dead headmaster’s pawns to be played upon your private chess board.” His tones came in strapped, harsh gasps. His attempt to rise from the floor resulted in another agonizing, strangled cry as he collapsed back onto the floor.

“Oh, for goodness sake, Severus, stop being so dramatic.”

“Fuck off, Minerva!”

“Oh, you are a sorry soul, Severus Tobias Snape! Silencio!” Snape’s ranting dissipated under the silencing spell. She wove a healing spell to ease the pain in his groin and leg. “Harry, we will need Poppy to look at his leg when we are finished. It looks as though it’s been re-injured.”

“Wingardium Leviosa!” She levitated him to his bed, his mouth miming expletives the entire way. “Petrificus Totalus!” Snape’s form instantly froze, his eyes wide with rage and body contorted in an odd shape as he tried to struggle free in anticipation of the spell.

“Are you sure about this, Minerva?” Harry asked reluctantly. “It seems wrong to do this against his will. It’s the sort of thing I’ve seen the Ministry do before they put people in Azkaban. It’s considered a form of mind rape.” Harry was whispering furiously, feeling extremely uncomfortable about the whole idea and his hand in committing what he felt to be a moral crime.

“We’ve been through this all already, Harry! Now just do as you are told!”

Even Dumbledore was subtler than she is being, he thought, but he kept it to himself.

Positioning himself in front of the professor, guilt and shame turned his face flush and hot as he raised his wand and focused on the professor’s horrified eyes. “Legilimens!”

The Dark Lord laughed as he left his loyal servant to die on the floor of the Shrieking Shack.

Mumbled voices and blurred images warred with death and peace. A female voice tapped into his subconscious mind, keeping his spirit tethered in the in-between.

A girl with a thick Scottish brogue was arguing with him in a run-down Manor room. He was so very weak and helpless. Damn girl talked like she had shite in her mouth.

Hermione was bathing him and speaking to him in soothing tones.

Hatred radiated outward toward a doctor with a fake smile and snaky eyes. The man was looking down the blouse of the Scottish girl, one hand on her shoulder.

Hermione was in front of him looking through a telescope in what appeared to be a converted Conservatory. A burly guard hurled insults at him and sneered.

Hermione was reading to him while he listened and stared out the window.

Pain, pain, oh so much pain as he struggled to walk.

Violence towards a man with a firearm pointed at him. The gun was wrested from the man’s hand and turned on the owner. A flower of blood bloomed outward from the hole the gun made as it discharged between the man’s eyes.

Hermione was above him in an enclosed space. It was difficult to see. Dust choked the air as bricks rained down around them.

He was looking up to the sky, waving his arms frantically to get the attention of the figures whizzing overhead. A bullet lodged in his ankle from below.

Relief, safety, steely determination as the metal in his leg and ankle were removed. Bones were set by Poppy with a sickening ‘Crack!’

They must not find out my magic is gone!

Hermione, is she okay? Tell me, damnit, I can’t move!

I will not submit to you, Minerva! I have always been loyal to the Order! Damn you for not trusting me!

Oh, my sweet Hermione, come for me my beautiful girl –

Harry withdrew from his mind, panting from the effort. He didn’t know whether to be surprised or repulsed. The greasy git had certainly been through a terrible ordeal. The image of him with a hand in Hermione’s knickers grossed him out completely. Part of him felt the indelible need to be Obliviated, but the other was fascinated by what had led to the unlikely scenario that Hermione would allow him to touch her like that. He must have forced himself on her. It was the only explanation. Fucker! How dare he touch her like that! The only consolation to Harry was the memory that Snape, for whatever reason, no longer had the ability to wield magic. His Legilimency ability had vanished, and his Occlumency was extremely weak. Harry had no problem pushing back the pitiful defense.

“Well, Harry? Can he be trusted?”

“Yes. For what it’s worth, he has remained loyal to the Order.”

“You will tell me what you have seen when we return to my office.”

“NO!” Harry rounded on her, his voice thick with emotion. “It is bad enough I was forced to do this to him, no matter what differences we may have had. There is nothing there that will either help or hurt our mission relating to the Ministry’s secrets. Most of the memories were of his recovery at the Manor and their escape. There is nothing in his memories I’m going to tell you about. As disgusted as I feel for being in his mind, I will not deny his basic right to privacy. There will already be after effects from what I’ve done.”

Minerva’s lips set to a thin line and her eyes narrowed. “Very well, Mr. Potter. I will release him after we are done with Miss Granger.”

Hermione lay with her back to them, clutching her pillow. Tears filled her eyes. She was sobbing quietly into the bedspread, staining it with her tears.

Harry gently turned her over to face him. “I’m sorry, Hermione, but I need to examine your memories so we can move you to a better place than this dungeon. I’ll be able to get you away from Snape.”

She took his hand and pressed it into her own. Harry felt a smooth object between their hands, and his eyes widened in surprise as it glowed a brilliant aquamarine.

This stone is the Sententia Reddo, Harry. Professor Flitwick had Remus give it to me so I can speak to you with my thoughts.

“Brilliant,” he breathed, fascinated.

I will submit to the use of Legilimency under two conditions: you do not reveal to Minerva the fact that the professor no longer can wield magic, and you don’t disclose our… relationship with one another. I do not wish for us to be separated. We need each other.

So, you let him touch you willingly? he asked, disbelieving.

Yes, Harry. You wouldn’t understand. I can’t explain it all because of the gaps in my memory, but maybe you’ll be able to help me regain some of that.

I will try. Are you ready?

Yes.

“Legilimens!”

Hermione screamed and ran to the fallen Professor. She stopped the blood flow from Nagini’s bite and Apparated him to St. Mungo’s.

The Minister shook her hand in commendation for volunteering to assist the fallen war hero in his recovery.

She laughed with the same Scottish girl in the professor’s memory and called her Deidre. They giggled together and made jokes about the handsome Dr. Shaw and whom he might fancy.

Hermione stoked a fire and settled down with a book of Shakespeare’s Sonnets and read to the skeletal figure of Snape on the hospital bed.

She changed his sheets and was using a Muggle contraption on his arm. The professor opened his eyes, and she ran from the room to get the doctor, screaming that he was awake.

It was very difficult to reach some of the memories. It was as if someone had Obliviated her, but done a botch job of it. From what Minerva had told him, her memory loss was from her head injuries, not magic. Hermione was trembling as he brought forward the memories, obviously seeing them as though it was the first time she’d experienced them as they reviewed them together.

She was massaging the professor’s back while convulsions ripped through his body.

Hermione and Deirdre were assisting the professor with a cane, one of his arms around Deidre’s neck, while Hermione supported his balance from behind.

She was sitting in the Conservatory with Snape, talking comfortably in front of a roaring fire, with a Muggle television rattling on nearby.

Ministry guards with firearms sat in front of the patient rooms. They taunted the nurses with suggestive and lewd comments as they went about their duties. A few threatened the patients.

Dr. Shaw threatened Hermione to keep her trap shut if she knew what was good for her. The room held several large tables and a multitude of chairs. His stinking breath repulsed her when he smashed his lips into hers, before shoving Hermione out the door and into a hallway.

Deidre whispered to Hermione that she was going through with the plan. They both shook with fear and anticipation, knowing this was their only chance to glean information from the doctor.

Hermione watched in horror as Dr. Shaw beat the other nurse to death in front of her and dropped the lifeless body to the floor.

Hermione gagged on the man’s putrid cock with a gun pressed to her temple.

Harry winced at the image and held on tight to Hermione as she tried to pull away. “Stay with me,” he murmured. “Stay with me, I need to know what happened to you.”

Hermione scribbled furiously with orange juice from the doctor’s drink. She was terrified he was going to return from the loo and discover her plan.

Snape sat behind her in the Manor room, comforting her in silence as she rocked interminably.

She hid under his bed while the Manor shook on its foundation from an unknown blast of power.

Her legs trembled and feet slipped on the rungs in the fireplace. So weak, I can’t go on.

Remus placed a small blue stone into the palm of her hand.

Ava chatted with her and the professor over a cuppa.

Dobby was holding her hand.

She begged Snape to make love to her.

Harry withdrew from her memories and took one of his very best friends in the whole world into his arms. “I’m so sorry I had to do that, Hermione, but it was necessary. We had to be sure, you understand that.” His voice turned to a whisper, barely loud enough for her to hear his words. “I don’t know who this Dr. Shaw is, but I swear to you I will do my best to find out and make him pay for what he did to you.”

She nodded into his chest, hiccoughing and sniffling with despair.

Minerva placed a hand on his shoulder. He looked up at her, nodding imperceptibly.

Satisfied, she let Harry console Hermione for a while longer before producing two phials of Dreamless Sleep.

“Hermione, I am satisfied you and Severus can be trusted. I am going to let you two sleep for awhile, and will return on Sunday. You both will need to be moved and guarded. We cannot afford to have the Ministry aware of your whereabouts. I will brief you upon my return with what you will need to know, and you can decide which course of action to take at that time.”

McGonagall turned to the professor, still frozen upon the bed. “Severus, I wish I could say I am sorry for what had to be done, but quite honestly, I am not. You have behaved despicably this past week, and if not for your past accomplishments and protection to the students and to this institution, I would have left you to rot in Azkaban for the way you’ve treated all of us. I do not need nor desire your forgiveness. Your continued loyalty to the Order is all I require until the conclusion of our struggles with the Ministry. I hope you can find it in your black heart to change your ways, as miracles do have a way of coming about, despite the odds being stacked against you.”

With that, she pressed a drained Hermione against her pillow, smoothing the few stray tendrils of hair from her plastered face. “Sleep now, my child. Dobby will bring you something to eat later on, and Ava or Poppy will attend you at that time. You are going to need your rest for the road ahead.” Hermione drank of the phial and sank into a peaceful slumber.

Harry pried open Snape’s mouth, and Minerva slowly poured it down his throat, massaging the muscles to engage him to swallow. “Finite Incantatem!”

Severus’s contorted body slumped onto the bed, already taken by the Dreamless Sleep. Harry straightened him out a bit and bit his lip.

“Harry?” Minerva asked, her voice cracking just a little. “Was it bad?”

“Yes, Minerva, it was. Very bad.”

She drew a great breath and released it. “I had feared as much. Come, let’s return to my office, and you can tell me the necessary information. I will respect your wish to retain their privacy regarding the rest of the memories, unless they choose to reveal them to me at another time.”

A heavy-hearted Harry Floo’ed back to the headmistress’s office with her, leaving behind the wounded minds of a precious friend and a despised scoundrel.

A note in Harry’s untidy scrawl lay upon the desk next to Hermione’s bed, resting under the stone.

Rabastan Lestrange waited until he heard Minerva’s Floo re-activate, signaling her return from the dungeon with the boy wonder. With surprising grace and speed, he returned to his own quarters and Floo’ed into the dungeon. An ugly sneer crossed his lips at the prone form of Professor Snape and the woman lying on the opposite bed.

He settled into a corner and disillusioned himself to wait until they woke up. Snape was in for a nasty surprise.