A Different Kind of Magic--UNDERGOING EDIT

All characters and some storyline themes belong to J.K. Rowling. I make no $$ from the writing of this fic. Thanks to JK Rowling and my beta Stephanie, aka VIVAvivacious, for allowing my stories to be the best they can.

Don't worry, my budding fans, the tantalizing lemons are in the next chapter!

Chapter 8 - Unpleasant Surprise

Hermione looked at the clock on the lounge wall. It was almost time for her to head down to Severus’ room to start her evening shift. He had been making phenomenal progress, and everyone was quite pleased with his continued recovery. They had walked him through the various stages of regaining his ability to eat normal food, graduating to a regular diet. Hermione dutifully owled Minerva, including the Doctor’s implied expression that a few patients would be due for release within a short time frame.

A loud scuffle broke her concentration as she looked toward the lounge entrance. She watched as a baker’s dozen broad, burly and surly-looking men piled into the lounge, followed by Dr. Shaw. Hermione looked to him with a questioning gaze, but he seemed to be preoccupied with the crowd that was now overwhelming her table. The men noisily seated themselves all around her, laughing and guffawing while she studied their uniforms.

They were from the Ministry; there was no doubt about it. They bore the crest and color of the Ministry right on the right breast pocket of their uniform. Hermione noticed several other curious staff members poke their heads in the door to gawk at the newcomers.

Dr. Shaw motioned for the staff to come in, and indicated they take a seat. He cracked his knuckles loudly, whistling to get everyone’s attention, standing at the head of the table.
“Ladies.” He nodded to the nursing staff present. “Gentlemen.” He nodded to the Ministry workers. “This is a rather informal meeting, as I didn’t want to call too much attention to the changing of the guard, as it were.” Hermione stiffened, sensing what was to come next.

“The security outside these walls is no longer adequate. We’ve had three successful breakouts in the past two weeks, and the Ministry is most anxious to prevent this sort of news being leaked to the media. We are supposed to be keeping a low profile, and it wouldn’t do to call attention to ourselves.” Brian cast a baleful glare at two of the nurses, who pointedly avoided his gaze.

This is news to me, I hadn’t heard of anyone attempting to escape, Hermione mused.

“Thankfully, we’ve been able to round up the errant escapees and quarantine them to their rooms, however, from now on, an official Ministry guard will accompany each patient at all times as they move throughout the facility. Their orders are to use deadly force, with no questions asked, if they suspect an attempted breakout or sabotage to this facility.

“We are not playing games here, girls. Many of the Death Eaters under your charge are recovering, and are expected to be transferred to Azkaban in the near future. I suggest that whatever sympathies you’ve developed be put aside at risk of being charged as an accomplice to a war criminal. Just so there are no questions as to the rules regarding this matter, the Ministry has authorized that same force be used against any employee helping a patient to escape. Have I made myself quite clear?” His piercing gaze left no room for doubt.

Each of the young women nodded in turn as he met their frightened gazes. Hermione knew the nature of this hospital, but had no idea the Ministry was going to take such drastic measures against even their own employees. No one had told them before that the patients were headed for Azkaban at their release, although the assumption had been made by most of the nursing staff. She had assumed Severus would be allowed to return to his home at Spinner’s End, under house arrest, and constant supervision. At least, that was what Minerva had told her was the plan she was lobbying for, and she had the Minister’s direct approval regarding his release. From her understanding, this was supposed to be a low-level security hospital. She presumed the Ministry must be under tough public scrutiny to resort to such measures.

Brian leaned across the table menacingly, again, looking at each of the young women in turn. “Any infractions of the rules regarding what has been discussed tonight will be sent to me to be dealt with – personally.” A hard glint turned his eyes into something dangerous that Hermione had never seen in him before. For the first time since the great battle, she was truly frightened.

“I shall inform the rest of the staff before the morning shift change. I have assigned each Ministry official a patient to guard. They will take shifts with each nurse, in twelve-hour increments. They will be assigned to stand guard outside each room, but if any patient or staff member falls under suspicion, we will be forced to have them stand guard inside the room, to guarantee cooperation in this most delicate security matter. It is imperative none of the patients become aware of the true nature of this operation. If asked, you will simply tell them the added security is for their own protection. Any further questions can be directed to me personally.”

Brian waved his arms to dismiss them. All of the nurses, including Hermione, stood and walked out of the room towards their charges, a dreadful weight settling on their hearts. This wasn’t good. This wasn’t good at all.

Severus knew something was amiss the second Hermione stepped into the room. He had been verbally sparring with Deidre, enjoying her fine Scottish temper. He didn’t give away his concern immediately, as he continued to insult the beautiful young witch who stood with nostrils flared and legs splayed like a fine, proud young filly that had been spooked. She had her arms crossed over her breast, and a murderous gleam in her eye.

“Temper, temper, Deidre,” he tutted, aiming his cane in her general direction, brandishing it for good measure. The girl's ire wasn’t easy to get a rise out of, but when she was angry, good God, she was beautiful, spitting at him like a wildcat.

Deidre’s eyes flashed daggers at him from across the room. She was so furiously mad at him, her fists were clenched at her sides. “Hoo daur ye insult mah faither, Severus! A finer cheil ye ne'er did see! Ah can see th' apple did nae faa far frae yer fowk cabre!”

Severus chuckled, motioning to Hermione, looking quite confused when she witnessed the tail end of their heated exchange.

“Hermione, I think our friend here needs to go take a cold shower. She’s worked herself up into a frenzy.”

Hermione looked from furious witch to infuriatingly calm patient. “I don’t know what you two are arguing about, but Deidre needs to go to the staff room for a meeting. I suggest you both kiss and make up.” Her attempt at humor was not lost on Severus as he winked at Deidre.

Deidre stalked over to Hermione, thrusting the clipboard into her hands with a snap. “Ah highly suggest ye hae a wee caw th' crack wi' uir professor, haur, Hermione. He coods dae wi' learnin' some manners oan hoo tae spick tae a quine! Dornt lit heem rockit ye, lassie, he's a silver tongued devil! Th' warst ay th' lot! Ah liked heem better when he was sleepin' aw day!” With a flourish of her simple skirt and nose in the air, Deidre took her pride, slamming the door on her way out without a backward glance.

Hermione stood with her hands on her hips, trying to appear stern. Severus merely looked back at her mildly, shrugging his shoulders. With a great sigh, Hermione came to stand next to the bed and took one of his hands in hers, inspecting it as she spoke. “Severus, you really mustn’t tease her like that. She’s very proud of her family, and insecure that she was adopted. She always got teased growing up, and was called all sorts of awful names because she doesn’t look like anyone in her family. I know it’s tough, but try to dig into that black heart of yours and lay off a little bit, okay? You never know when you’ll send her over the edge and make her poison your dinner.” At this, she broke her stern look, her eyes softening a bit. “Please? For me?” She batted her eyelashes at him.

Severus snatched his hand away from her, flopping back onto the bed, ignoring her teasing, and loosely entwining his hands together before laying back on them, sinking into the pillow. “You know what the problem is with women?” he asked rhetorically, before moving on. “Women give a damn. You take too much stock in what other people think. Frankly, maybe Deidre would be a little more personable if she didn’t try so hard to be such a berk. If the damn girl had a little more common sense in that pretty head of hers, she would heed my warning and stay away from Dr. Fuckhead. He practically had his eyeballs falling out of his vacuous skull and down her shirt this morning when he came in to look me over!” he growled, scowling fiercely out the window.

Hermione gave him an enduring look, which he continued to ignore. Let her be mad at him for pissing off Deidre. She had had it coming, the way she carried on with the simpleton trying to pass himself off as a doctor.

“You know, Severus,” she began, moving to take his vitals and administer his medication, which he begrudgingly cooperated with, “what I really think you need, is to get out of this blasted room,” she gestured about with a free hand, “and come with me to the Conservatory.”

He slowly turned his gaze, something unfathomable lurking under the surface that she couldn’t quite define. Hermione stifled another shiver, one of many she received when he looked at her that way. “What…. Conservatory? You told me this was a converted Manor house bought by the Ministry, for long-term patients.”

Exasperated, Hermione responded, “If you had paid any attention to when Deidre and I were telling you about what types of things were available for patients to participate in during your stay, then you would have known it was available for you to visit. It really has a lovely view of the night sky through the telescope. The former owner left it behind, as a gift to the Ministry for their contribution to the war effort.” She ignored him when he snorted in disgust. “You’ve been so hell-bent on staying in this horrid little room all these months; I was beginning to think you wanted to spend the rest of your life in here!” She finished her ministrations, and put her hands in her lap, ceasing to speak as she let him think in companionable silence.

After more than a few heartbeats, his countenance softened ever so slightly around the edges, as he said smoothly, “Hermione, perhaps the reason I haven’t left this room has to do with the fact that I’m a wanted man. I am a deeply private person, with no wish for anyone to see me the way I am.” He gestured to indicate his entire self. “What kind of world can there possibly be for me, beyond these bedroom walls, except public humiliation, shame, and imprisonment? I’m no fool, Hermione; I know the Ministry doesn’t just throw together special hospitals for invalids for the hell of it. I know exactly where I am, and where I am going to end up when my stay is done here. The only regret I am going to have is leaving you behind, after all you’ve done for me.”

He looked at her so sincerely, so unguarded at that moment, and she began to cry silently. They were large, salty drops, running down her face, soaking into the apron on her lap. Damn Brian and the Ministry. Damn them to hell! Severus wasn’t like everyone else! He didn’t deserve to be treated like the other Death Eaters! Couldn’t they just see, for once, the sacrifices and good he had done for the Order?

She didn’t have to say a word of Dr. Shaw’s precious Ministry secrets. He already knew. She figured he had always known, from the day he woke from his coma. Severus had spent way too much time in dubious situations to be fooled by simple pretense.

He hesitantly lifted his hand to stroke her cheek, wiping away the trail of tears with the back of his hand. “Hermione, I would like it if I could escort you to the Conservatory.” He couldn’t bear to see her sad like this. He couldn’t bear the pressure she must be under, to hide this all from him. He could see it in her eyes: the pain, the pressure, the guilt. He wished he could take her in his arms; comfort her the way she deserved be comforted. He wished he could take away the pain and hurt in her eyes, and her heart. He wished… ‘Only fools and old men make such wishes!’ he berated himself silently. He could never be the type of person she would choose to be with. He was unaware of when he had begun to think of her that way. He didn’t care. It was all a futile exercise in self-destruction, something he had become very good at.

Hermione and Severus slowly walked out the door of his hospital room, and down the hall toward the Conservatory, with a none-too-subtle Ministry guard at their back. Hermione gently guided his shoulder around the corner, into the Conservatory. From this point on, they didn’t need words to understand each other. The unspoken words were loud enough to fill the air with the inevitable. When Severus was considered fully recovered, per Dr. Shaw’s orders, the logical fate was for the Professor to be escorted to Azkaban to await his fate.