Daddy Dearest - (No Update, Edit)

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 99 ~ All Work and No Play

Hermione moved into the private rooms in the infirmary the next day. She didn't bring much with her. The rooms were already furnished, consisting of a study, a small kitchen, two bedrooms, and two bathrooms. The smaller bathroom only contained a shower, the master bedroom had a huge sunken tub and a separate enclosed shower. She found them more than adequate for her needs.

The lab had been scrubbed and cleaned, and had some equipment. Since this was basically spells work, Hermione only really needed a blackboard, plenty of parchment and quills for notes, and a wand. In this case she also needed a subject with the Mark, and she had one in Poppy, who was chomping to get working on this problem.

First Hermione tested the Mark to see if she could discern Voldemort's signature. She couldn't. Voldemort was extremely careful to protect it. Using an amplification spell she had developed herself, Hermione tested the mark for any type of magical signature or pulse.

At first she found nothing, but continued checking stubbornly, and became frustrated when Poppy had to leave several times to attend to students…but Hermione hopped right back on the thestral when the medi-witch returned. That afternoon, Hermione detected a very, very weak pulse of magic using her adapted spell. It was a breakthrough though the pulse was too weak to get a handle on, having been amplified as much as it could be with that particular spell.

What Hermione needed to do was make the pulse stronger so she could reproduce it. Once she reproduced it, she could let Poppy go and work on the pulse alone. But the medi-witch would still be needed if this magical pulse was not the source of the Mark's power.

Hermione had to stop working on the Mark for a number of weeks as she worked on developing a stronger amplification spell. During this period, both Severus and Mathias only saw Hermione during supper. Dumbledore made her promise to leave the lab at least once a day, so of course Hermione made it the last meal of the day. Both Mathias and Severus were a bit alarmed at the witch's appearance.

Hermione would enter the Great Hall every evening as if she had wandered in by mistake and looked distracted as she mechanically ate her food. Her hair was a mass of hastily pinned down tangles and the witch looked as if it had been a long time since she saw a shower…most likely she was scourgifying herself each day to save time. Scourgifying did clean the body, but it didn't always look clean, and Hermione had a decidedly unwashed look about her.

She barely even greeted Severus…giving him a "hi" as she walked past him, her mind totally occupied by her work. Mathias, who had hoped his mother would give him a wide berth, was a bit unsettled that she didn't even look toward his table when in the Great Hall. Although Hermione embarrassed him with her affectionate displays of kissing him all over his face, or waving at him animatedly…Mathias still secretly liked his mother making a fuss over him. She was his mum after all. Her apparent lack of care or concern troubled him.

One evening, after Hermione wandered into supper, ate her meal and departed without a word to either of the men in her life, Mathias walked up the dais to his father and sat down next to him, concern on his face. He didn't care that all the student body was watching him. Students weren't supposed to sit at the Head table unless by invitation of the Headmaster. But Mathias was Snape's son, so got special treatment. At least that is what the other students thought.

Albus saw the boy sit down, but didn't say anything. He knew that it had to be something important passing between the two for the boy to do that. Albus returned to his meal.

"Dad, we've got to help mum. She's working too hard. Can't you do anything?" the boy asked Severus, "She looks awful. She's like a bagwitch or something."

"That's your mother's standard mode of operation, son. She's forgotten about us," Severus said evenly. "Her work is all she knows."

It pained him to see Hermione like this, but Severus had known the witch would be exactly this way, neglecting herself and those she loved for the sake of knowledge and in the hope of success. The Potions Master hadn't touched or really talked to her in over a month, and the wizard was feeling her absence badly.

"Well, I'm going to get her to take a break," Mathias said firmly.

"And just how do you plan to do that, son?" Severus asked him, an eyebrow arched.

Mathias looked at him.

"I don't know," he admitted. "Maybe drag her out of the infirmary."

"Then what will you do with her?" Severus asked him.

Mathias shrugged.

Severus looked at his boy and sighed. Even if Mathias could get her out of the infirmary, he wouldn't be able to keep her out for long. He had no place to restrain her.

But Severus did. He looked at his son.

"All right, Mathias…I'll do something about your mother. Don't worry," the Potions Master said.

"Please do it soon, dad. She's killing herself," the boy said.

Severus watched Mathias exit the Great Hall, then looked over at Dumbledore. He rose and walked down to the old wizard.

"May I speak to you a moment, Headmaster?" Severus asked the wizard.

Albus beamed up at him.

"Why of course, Severus," the wizard replied, gesturing toward the empty seat beside him.

Severus sat down.

"Headmaster, Hermione needs to take a break from her work. She looks terrible and I doubt that she is taking care of herself properly. I want your permission to remove her from the labs for a couple of days," Severus said. "I know she won't come willingly, so I may have to use rather tough tactics on the witch. As brilliant as Hermione is, she isn't at her best when she is exhausted. And by the look of her, she is almost past exhaustion. She needs a rest, sir."

Albus nodded.

"Poppy came to me with the same issue, complaining she instructed Hermione to take three days off, but the witch won't comply. You have my permission to take matters into your own hands, Severus. Just don't be too harsh," the Headmaster said, his eyes twinkling behind his half-moon glasses.

He had a feeling the Potions Master was going to enjoy this.

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Voldemort sat listening to the fatigue-clad, rough-looking muggle in front of him explain how his ranks needed to be divided after studying a map of the wizarding world as a whole. The wizard had to admit, the muggle knew what he was talking about. He was also quite impressed that when the man saw him, he didn't evidence any shock or fear but immediately accepted him. The only thing that irked the wizard was that the muggle called him "Mr. Dark Lord." He thought that was an American thing however, so let the muggle get away with it.

"A brigade of five thousand trained men is enough for a coup, Mr. Dark Lord sir, if you have them positioned properly. We can break your ranks down as follows and you can see what I mean. One brigade of five-thousand, broken down into five battalions of one thousand, which is further broken down to fifty companies of one hundred men each, which then is separated into one hundred platoons of fifty men, and these platoons can be broken down into five hundred squads of ten men each. So you see, Mr. Dark Lord, you can restore order with your men, if they are properly trained and positioned. And I can train them for you sir. Have them ready in ninety days. It would take longer if they were actually going to be fighting another force, but you only need them for cleanup and to restore order among an already decimated group."

Draco smiled at the muggle and looked at Voldemort, who studied the man.

"What is your name again?" the Dark Lord asked the muggle.

"Douglas, sir," the muggle replied.

"You know we use magic, do you not?" the Dark Lord inquired.

"Yes sir. But it is all point and shoot. Magic is better than guns because you can use a variety of spells to take out an enemy. My team and I can still teach them how to use their wands in this kind of situation," he said confidently.

"I see," Voldemort said, "I hope you realize Douglas, that I don't take failure well. Not being paid wouldn't be your only worry if you fail," the Dark Lord said.

"Mr. Dark Lord, sir, almost everyone I've ever trained troops for has the same attitude as you do. I know how much is riding on this, sir. I can whip your men into shape as I said. We only need a place to train," Douglas said.

"Very well, you shall have it. How soon can you start?" Voldemort asked him.

"It will take a week to build all of the sets and courses," Douglas said.

"No. This is the magical world…you will be able to have all you need erected in less than a day," Voldemort said.

"Well, Mr. Dark Lord sir, after the training camps are erected we can start whenever you can get your ranks together for training," Douglas replied.

"Three days," Voldemort hissed, his tongue flicking out. Douglas didn't blink.

"Three days it is, sir," Douglas replied.

Voldemort eyed Douglas a moment, then nodded at two female deatheaters lounging against the wall. They walked forward.

"Take Mr. Douglas and show him the Dark Lord's gratitude," the wizard said.

The witches curtsied, then looped their arms through Douglas' and walked the smiling muggle through a door on the far end of the throne room.

"Thank you Mr. Dark Lord sir," the muggle called back before the door closed behind
him.

Voldemort looked at Draco, who kept a sober look on his face, though the gods knew he wanted to smile in victory. Obviously the Dark Lord found Douglas suitable.

"You've done well, Draco. We will use Douglas and his team to train my ranks, then kill them. I don't need such men in the muggle world when I plan to take it over as well," the Dark Lord said.

"I agree, my Lord," Draco said.

"I want you to oversee the building of the training camps, Draco. I understand you have a few hundred acres of land well removed from populated areas. Use it," the Dark Lord commanded.

"Yes my Lord. Consider it done," Draco said, bowing.

"Excellent," Voldemort lisped, rubbing his elegant hands together.

It looked like he could accomplish his dream of domination within the allotted time period.

It wouldn't be long now.

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Severus strode into the infirmary, his black robes billowing and face set in a determined expression. Poppy walked out of her office. Severus looked at the medi-witch and said three words.

"Where is she?"

Poppy swallowed and pointed.

"In the lab, as usual," the witch said.

"I'll be taking her with me for a three-day rest," the Potions Master said.

Poppy gave a relieved sigh.

"Thank goodness. If she doesn't get away from her work, she is going to collapse. I've never seen a witch so driven. Be sure to make her eat and drink plenty of fluids," the medi-witch directed.

Severus nodded then took off for the lab.

Hermione was staring at the blackboard, going over the Spells formula she had constructed for the Amplification Spell. She still wasn't getting the power she needed. Had she miscalculated the lei lines again? Shit.

Hermione picked up the eraser and erased everything on the board, and started from scratch again. The symbols blurred a little and she wiped her eyes. She had to focus. This was too important.

Suddenly she heard the lab door open.

"Poppy I ate…I swear," she said not turning around, "Please go. I promise I will take a rest after I create this spell."

"You will take a rest now, witch," came the silky reply.

Hermione turned around.

"Severus. What are you doing here?" she asked.

"I've come to retrieve you before you keel over from exhaustion. Mathias is worried about you," the Potions Master said, looking down on the witch. She looked terrible.

"Well, I don't want to be retrieved, so you can go back to the dungeons. I have work to finish," Hermione said, turning back to the blackboard.

The wizard scowled blackly as the witch tried to dismiss him so flippantly.

Severus saw Hermione's wand on the counter, picked it up and put it in his pocket.

"You are finished," he snarled, grabbing Hermione, lifting her and flinging the witch over his shoulder.

Hermione kicked her legs and beat on his back ineffectually as the Potions Master strode out of the lab and past an open-mouthed Poppy, Hermione screaming bloody murder.

"She'll be back in three days, Poppy," Severus said, exiting the infirmary with the struggling witch. Hermione grabbed on to the edge of the door, but Severus yanked her hard so she lost her grip. Hermione's screams of rage faded away as he carried her toward the shifting stairs.

Poppy shook her head and walked back into her office.

The Potions Master might not have the most congenial bedside manner when dealing with a difficult patient, but he certainly was effective.

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A/N: Am tired. Sigh. Please review.