A Different Kind of Magic--UNDERGOING EDIT

Everything belonging to the Harry Potter fandom is the property of JK Rowling and cohorts. Not me. I make no money off this fun work of fiction.

Thank you VIVAvivacious, my wonderful beta, and her work and suggestions on this tense chapter. Thank you to the readers for sticking with me. We are about to shove off to the Burrow in the next couple of chapters!


Chapter 23 – To Mock A Death Eater

Poppy clucked her tongue as she re-healed Severus’s leg. She was going to have to talk to Minerva about her Order staff getting out of hand. It was getting very tiresome, healing injuries from drunken louts and pompous men filled with nothing but testosterone and hot air.

“There you go, dear. What in the world made you get into a fight with Harry Potter?”

Severus snorted in response.

“Fine, then. Be your grumbly old self, Severus. I’m sure not going to stop you. Just don’t go getting yourself into any more trouble. Honestly, you are wearing Miss Longbottom and I ragged from having to come down here to heal you every few hours. Do you think you and Miss Granger will be fine on your own this evening? I can have Ava come by, but quite frankly, Severus, she’s not all that keen now that you’ve run her off.”

“No, madam, we shall be quite content, I think.”

“Is there anything you want me to tell Miss Ava?” Poppy put her hands on her hips and tapped her toe, dropping a not-so-subtle hint.

He rolled his eyes and closed the lids, throwing his head back in exasperation. “You can give Miss Longbottom my sincere apologies for being a greasy bastard. Will that suffice?”

“Yes, quite. Minus the greasy part.”

“Oh? You’ll tell her I’m a bastard, then?”

“Fitting, don’t you think?”

“If you say so, madam.”

“It was you who said it, not I. Goodnight, Severus, Miss Granger.” Satisfied, Poppy collected her things and exited the room via Floo.

Snape went to sit by Hermione, gasping at the pain that lingered. “Do you know, Hermione, she refused to give me a Pain Relieving potion? She told me I needed to learn my place. The woman has some nerve.”

Hermione smiled tiredly. She took his hands in hers and squeezed.

“Are you up for a game of chess?”

She shook her head.

“Still tired from Potter’s little mind games?”

Hermione nodded, looking pained.

“Did he… uncover more of your memories?”

She indicated yes.

“Were some of them bad ones?”

Yes.

“Very?”

Yes.

“Ah, I was afraid of that.” He pulled her into a gentle embrace, looking over the top of her head, his gaze on nothing in particular. “I’m so sorry.” Severus sighed, frustrated with the pain she was forced to relive, over and over again. Hermione was already in a delicate state, and already people were going to expect her to be at their beck and call. In his mind, she had been, and would continue to be, cast away in much the same way he was. If Minerva put her in harm’s way, there’d be hell to pay.

“Do you want to talk about any of it?”

No.

“I respect your need for some space,” he said quietly, soothingly. “Merlin knows enough dunderheads never bother to take the hint around this place.” Snape smirked to himself, his tone changing to one of derision. “I am still incensed by the nerve Minerva had in forcing Potter into my mind. I am quite furious with him, too, but Minerva, she had no right! That was my choice to make! I’ll bet she’s up with that old fool Albus, right now, gloating about her victory over me. I am not her puppet, and I never will be! I put that behind me after the last Great War. Serving two masters has aged me considerably. You have seen far more of me than anyone.”

She squeezed his hands again in understanding.

“Would you like me to read to you?”

No

“All right.” The Professor stroked her hands momentarily and released her grip. “Get some sleep. We have one more day in this hole, and then we will have to dance for Minerva again on Sunday. I wonder where Hogwarts is at in the term session,” he mused.

“There is one month left in session,” intoned a deep, gruff voice, which eerily came from out of nowhere.

Instantly on his guard, Severus sprang to his feet as quickly as he was able, with his back to the wall in a defensive stance. “Who said that? Show yourself!”

“Finite Incantatem!” came the disembodied voice again.

Snape could not believe his eyes. In front of him materialized the form of Rabastan Lestrange. Not only standing in front of him, but also wearing rich garb in Slytherin House colors, silver and green. The man was as ugly as he had ever been with the scar on his face, but he was clean and imposing. Dangerous. Deadly.

Rabastan laughed at the incredulous look on the face of Severus Snape. “Well, well, well, as I live and breathe. I haven’t seen you since, when was it? Oh yes, I recall, the day you betrayed the Dark Lord and rightfully should have died!” he spat forcefully.

“You would have done me a world of favors if you had stayed dead like a good boy, Severus. It’s been a real thorn in my side, knowing you were down here and unable to confront you.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Rabastan? What the living fuck are you doing here?” Severus was in a defensive position between Rabastan and Hermione by now. He couldn’t fathom what in hell this prick was doing at the castle, in professor’s garb, no less. Something was terribly wrong, and he was powerless against the unknown tide of dread that washed over him at the sight of the sadistic prick.

“Ah, but that’s the trick, isn’t it, Sev? You see, the Ministry has changed while you’ve been gone. Fancy this. One day, I am locked up in my cell. Next thing I know, I’m at the Ministry, receiving a full pardon in exchange for my service as a Ministry representative at Hogwarts.”

“But how – ”

“Yes, Sev. How? Isn’t that the real question? The answer is, I am not giving you one. You don’t deserve to know the truth. I have made a life for myself here, working for the Ministry. Do you want to know what the icing on the cake is, hmmm?”

Severus looked like he wanted to murder the intruder.

“Do you know who took your old job, Professor?”

“You filthy – ”

“Good old Rabastan.”

“Dirty – ”

“I am also head of Slytherin House.”

“Stinking – ”

“Oh, yes, I am also Deputy Headmaster.”

“Rotten, putrid, vile, lying sack of rancid shite!”

“Temper, Severus. No need to be jealous.”

Severus shook and held his fists in tight balls at his side. Rabastan was palming his wand down at his waist, but Snape had seen the man before in action. It was his way of remaining ready to use it without calling attention to himself. The man was lethal, and probably just as powerful as he ever had been, if not more so.

“So you see, it is unfortunate you have been placed at the mercy of our illustrious Minerva. Everything you worked for, all you have achieved falls to me. Life is so unfair, isn’t it, my pathetic, old friend?” he taunted, obviously trying to bait him into attacking.

It wasn’t going to work. As big a shock his appearance was, Severus knew better than to take him on, when he was in such a weak state with no magic.

“You are not worth the effort, Rabastan. I would as soon cut off my own hands than trade blows with you. Lowering my standards was not on my to-do list today.”

“You’ve got a lot of nerve, you self-serving, narcissistic half-breed!

Severus struggled to hold his ground. Giving in to this cretin’s insults were not going to serve any real purpose, with him and Hermione at such a disadvantage. “And you have a lot to lose, don’t you, Lestrange? I would imagine Minerva wouldn’t be too happy with the Head of Slytherin House picking fights with unarmed guests in the dungeon, now would she?”

That gave Rabastan pause. “You stay out of my way, I am warning you now. There is no place for you here, and I am not stepping aside for any man, especially you.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” said the professor, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Severus just wanted him to leave. If the big man chose to pick a fight, it would surely end very badly for all of them.

Rabastan relaxed his stance a bit, favoring a short stroll to the opposite end of the room and back, showing off his arrogance by turning his back on Snape. This little display of power was such a delightful, if small, retribution for having been beneath Severus during the war, both under Dumbledore and the Dark Lord. What a delicious encounter. Minerva had clearly not told them of his presence, which suited him just fine. Snape had underestimated Voldemort, which, in Rabastan’s estimation, earned the grease ball the right to nothing; not respect, life, a second chance, nothing. What good was a double spy if, in the very end, he didn’t have to good sense to stay dead once the discovery of said duplicity was complete? Rubbish. The man wasn’t worth his spit.

Rabastan’s wandering eye landed on Hermione, who was watching the entire interaction with rapt attention. Her eyes were wide with fear, still as a fawn in hiding.

Rabastan sidled up the wall, on the opposite side of the bed from Severus.

“What’s your name, sweetheart? I’m Rabastan. The professor’s an old friend of mine. We go back a long way, don’t we, Sev?”

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

“What’s the matter, sweetheart, cat got your tongue?”

“She can’t speak, you idiot, she has head injuries. You can tell by the big white bandages wrapped around her head.”

“Shut your fucking mouth!” he growled. “I’m warning you!”

Snape took a protective step toward the bed and shook one finger at Rabastan. “Leave her alone. I don’t care what you do to me, but you have no business putting your hands on Miss Granger!”

“Oh, Miss Granger, is it? One of the Golden Trio, I recall? You seem awfully attached to the young lady, Sev. I wonder if she knows what kind of man you really are.”

“She knows exactly who I am, Rabastan. I might say the same for you!”

“Oh, I would like to show her the kind of man I can be. Would you like that, my pretty one?” Rabastan locked gazes with Severus as he snatched one of Hermione’s wrists, holding it in a vise as she struggled against him. He slowly lowered his head and placed a kiss upon her wrist before releasing her with a flourish.

“Sev, you’ve got good taste in women. She smells divine, and her skin is like silk. Too bad you’re polluting yourself with a Mud-”

“Keep your filthy hands off her, you animal!” thundered Snape, the vein in his neck nearly apoplectic with fury.

“Who is going to make me? You?” His rich, deep laugh filled the air as his wand came up to brandish between the pair.

“You better watch your back, Rabastan. Payback, as the Muggles say, is a bitch.”

“Yes, and fate was your whore, Severus.”

Hermione tried to grab for the wand, but Rabastan was much quicker than she imagined.

He roughly pushed her back on the bed, zapping her with a spell akin to an electric shock in warning. “I like you, Mudblood, you’ve got spunk. I think we’ll have to get to know each other a little better sometime. Yes, that will have to be arranged.”

“Miss Granger would never shag an animal like you.”

“We shall see. If she can fancy a two-timing lowlife such as you, there is hope. I have taken everything else of yours. Yes, we shall see. Now, I really must be going. Enjoy your stay! I’m off, back to your, rather, my, quarters. I have Potions to teach in the morning. ‘Turrah!” And with handful of Floo powder, he was gone in a swirl of green and silver.

“Damn him to hell! Are you all right, Hermione? Did he hurt you?”

He pressed the stone into her hand.

‘No, I’m fine. Just took me off guard.’

“And I.”

Someone was definitely going to have some explaining to do.

Hermione burst into tears. It had all been too much so far. After Harry’s bout of Legilimency into her brain, and now the bout this morning, the reality of the war and their part in it came crashing down on her. What in hell was going on with Rabastan Lestrange as a Hogwarts professor? He was a murderer and a rapist! Was the whole staff corrupt?

’Oh my God! What are we going to do? What if they’re all mad?’ Her hands trembled mightily, unable to stop shaking even as Severus grasped them firmly in his own.

‘I don’t know, my dear. We’ll find out. I’ll demand answers. There has to be a legitimate explanation. If they want to know if we can be trusted, there has to be a hell of a lot more going on than what they are telling us. The Order is still functioning. Don’t give up hope yet.’

Hermione’s mind was running rampant. All she could see in front of her was Brian’s face leering while he shoved her down on his nasty cock, forcing her to almost puke on its vile stench. The scornful memory became replaced with Rabastan Lestrange’s lurid sneer. She squeezed her eyes shut. Bloody hell, why did Minerva have to make Harry dredge up all this shite? She felt dirty inside, used by everyone around her. Shame and revulsion washed over her; the thought of a man touching her, after she was nothing more than damaged goods, was enough to nearly give her a panic attack.

All at once, she wanted to push Severus away from her and pull him to her for comfort. The thought of him touching her, as he had, as she wanted him to, was instantly both repulsive and comforting. The conflicting emotions roiled inside her, making her cry.

Dropping the stone to the bed, she let Severus lie next to her and hold her while she wept despondently into his chest. He knew there were no words to console her for what he knew she had been forced to remember.

And he blamed himself. If she had not followed him to the Manor, none of this would have happened to her. He would make it up to her.

Somehow.