Disharmony in the Dungeons

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 29 ~ A Little Closure

POSTED ON FRONT PAGE OF THE DAILY PROPHET: MORNING EDITION

[ PHOTO ]
Gagging Aurors Stagger from Hotel Room after Grisly Discovery
Photo by Bozo Baggins

WORST DOUBLE HOMICIDE IN KNOCKTURN ALLEY HISTORY


Two horribly mutilated male bodies were discovered at the “Easy Does It” hotel located in Knockturn Alley, an establishment known to cater to deatheaters, prostitutes and other unsavory clientele.

According to authorities, the bodies had been methodically dissected and quartered. In addition, the flesh of each body was removed in two whole pieces, and the internal organs left piled neatly on the floor of the room.

Authorities believe the crime might be ritualistic or sexually motivated due to the condition of the sexual organs, which were described by one Auror as being “peeled like bananas” Preliminary examination suggests the two men were alive when the mutilations occurred.

The identity of the two wizards has not yet been discovered. There are currently no leads to the perpetrator. Authorities are asking that anyone who has any information concerning this crime, contact the Ministry immediately.

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Severus folded the morning paper, smirked and sipped his coffee. Hermione had left for university an hour ago. Finished with breakfast, Severus left Hermione's rooms, walked into his study, went to a shelf and retrieved a small pensieve. He carried the bowl to his armchair and sat down, placing it in his lap. With one long finger, he added several silver strands of memory to the bowl, then doctored them to be suitable for one-time viewing. He also placed a binding spell that would end when the viewing was over. The Potions Master then placed a light containment spell over the contents so they wouldn’t spill, carried the pensieve over to his desk, took out a small sack and placed it inside, tying the bag shut securely.

Whistling, he left his rooms and headed up to the owlery.

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When Draco first read the headline of the Daily Prophet, his heart leaped, thinking Wayne and Dwayne had been successful in killing the Professor and his wife. He was sadly disappointed. Still the crime was admirably gruesome. There was an artist someplace in the wizarding world.

The blonde wizard finished his brunch, wiped his mouth, rose and stretched. What devilment could he get into today? Maybe a visit to the brothel. There was a new girl there who worked magic with her mouth on his wand, and could take a lot of punishment. She was still fresh too. Draco was thinking of buying her contract and keeping her at the Manor for his private use. He would treat her relatively well as long as she continued to please him. Narcissa had been hinting at him marrying, but he wasn’t ready to be tied down yet. He saw how miserable his father’s marriage had been, and wasn’t anxious to follow in his footsteps. His father. How he missed him.

There was a knock on the sitting room door.

“Come in,” Draco called. The door opened and a house elf entered, holding a bag up, its eyes on the floor as it offered it to the wizard.

“What’s this?” Draco asked, not reaching for the bag.

“A package for the Master, sir. Delivered by an owl, sir,” the elf replied trembling slightly.

Draco took the bag, and the elf bowed, then scampered from the room.

Draco looked the bag over and walked to his father’s desk. He sat down and pulled out his wand, checking to see if the contents were harmful. It wasn’t. Draco untied the bag and pulled out the contents. It was a pensieve. Wayne and Dwayne! They must have been successful.

With a broad smile on his face, Draco quickly removed the containment seal and stuck his finger into the bowl, prepared to see the death of his father’s murderers. He was very unprepared for what he saw.

He was in a ratty motel room. Dwayne was strapped to a bed and naked. A black cloud bent over him. All Draco could make out about it was that it held a knife. Dwayne screamed as the cloud cut into his cock. Draco felt bile rising as blood spurted everywhere. He tried to withdraw from the pensieve but found that he couldn’t. Then he tried to turn away from the butchery occurring in front of him. He couldn’t do that either. He couldn’t even close his eyes. Horrified, he vomited several times as he watched the wizard turned into a pile of shuddering flayed flesh and finally cut into pieces. The wizard suffered a long time.

Then Draco had to relive the horror again as Wayne, screaming for mercy was also diced and sliced methodically by the dark cloud.

When the cloud disapparated, a cold voice said, “I know it was you, Draco.”

Then the wizard was released, back at his father’s desk, covered in vomit.

“Gods,” Draco breathed, quaking uncontrollably. He knew that cold voice.

The wizard jumped up, scourgified himself and ran out of the room.

“Mother!” he called, running down the hallway at top speed. He almost slid past her bedroom.

Narcissa was sitting on the side of her bed, knitting. She looked up at her son calmly.

“What is it, Draco?” she asked him.

“Mother! I need the address to Winston’s Wizard Security Systems immediately. We need to lock down the Manor!” he panted at her.

Narcissa looked at him, her eyebrows lifted.

“Lock down the Manor? Whatever for?” she questioned.

Draco scowled at her.

“Never mind the fuck why. Find me the fucking address, Mother. I want them here today. Before nightfall,” the young wizard said, his ice-blue eyes almost insane with fear.

“Very well, dear,” Narcissa said quietly as she rose to fetch the Wizarding Directory. She wondered what kind of mess Draco had gotten himself into this time. He was so much like his father. A magnet for trouble, most of the time trouble of their own making. She leafed through the directory and found the address.

“I want you to go there, Mother, and bring back several technicians and a consultant,” Draco said.

His mother’s forehead wrinkled, her blue eyes a cross between irritation and curiosity.

“Me? Why me, Draco? You know I’m a homebody,” she said.

Because, damn it, I can’t leave the Manor…that’s fucking why. Now get dressed and get going!” he snarled at her. “Tell them they’re going to make a fortune if they get here this afternoon.”

Narcissa sighed. He was the Lord of the Manor, disrespectful as he was. She had to obey him.

“All right, Draco. Give me some privacy so I can get dressed,” she said.

Draco reluctantly left her room and stood outside her door pacing. If the Professor knew it was him who sent the assassins, then he would most likely come back to beat him some more. Draco knew it was Severus who mutilated the two wizards. They must have done something to him and Hermione, but failed to bring it to the desired close, and the Potions Master got revenge. Shit.

Draco realized his error. He was the only one who Severus knew wanted to punish him and his wife. He should have told the wizards to stage the deaths and make them look like accidents. That way if the Professor and his mudblood wife had got away, they would have thought they escaped an unfortunate event. Too late now. All he could do was try to protect himself. He’d have to stay close to the Manor from here on out. The Potions Master could be waiting for him anywhere.

In a matter of weeks Draco Malfoy became a recluse. He no longer left the Manor and would not see visitors himself, sending his mother to meet with others while he sat in the sitting room surrounded by sneakerscopes, detectors, foe mirrors and other devices meant to forewarn him of the approach of enemies. He watched them endlessly, his fear of the Potions Master spiraling him slowly down into madness. He started at sounds and jerked in horror at shadows.

The house elves began to get back a little of their own, tormenting their Master by rustling curtains and creating noises and darting past him, disillusioning themselves so he could not tell what had passed him. Draco soon stopped caring for his looks, growing a scruffy beard, allowing his white-blonde hair to lengthen and mat up. He wouldn’t let his mother attend him at all, and drank firewhiskey for a good part of the day. He began to have conversations with his dead father and others he had known as a student at Hogwarts. When the Dark Lord summoned him, he didn’t go, no matter the pain the wizard sent his way via the Mark

Finally, Voldemort sent a contingent of deatheaters to the Manor to find out what was happening with Lucius’ heir. The deatheaters barreled past Narcissa and entered the sitting room, finding Draco wide-eyed and babbling among his detectors. He screamed when he saw them, and fled under his father’s desk, his arms wrapped around his legs and rocking himself, staring dazedly into space, saying “he’s finally come for me” over and over. The deatheaters looked at the crazed wizard shaking their heads. Even they could see he had gone mad.

The Dark Lord made arrangements with Narcissa to continue to send his tribute monthly in exchange for Draco’s and her own life. As long as he received a portion of their resources they were safe from his wrath. Actually, the Dark Lord thought it was better this way. Draco would have been a lot of work. The boy had been too rebellious. Well, the Dark Lord didn’t have to worry about that anymore.

Eventually, news of Draco’s condition got back to Severus, who was quite satisfied with the way things turned out. Draco no longer had the ability to be a threat to him or his wife. The pensieve had done its job as he suspected it would. The boy had been too pampered and spoiled. He had no true strength of character. Severus knew his fear would consume him, and it had.

Hermione completed her second year of university and received the necessary licensing and certification in order to begin creating small spells on her own. She was ecstatic, and she and Severus celebrated by having a night on the town. Since the night at the Three Broomsticks with his wife, Severus had taken to going out with her more often. They would go to dinners, shows, seminars, whatever caught her attention. He would even travel to muggle London for her.

One evening, Hermione took Severus to a small, dark little bar on the lower east side to something called a “poetry slam”. Severus watched as muggle after muggle walked on the stage, reciting and acting out poems they had created. Severus watched, not sure if what he was hearing was actually poetry. Most seemed like monologues to him. There was one young man who recited a twenty-minute diatribe on “shit” while throwing pieces of toilet paper at the audience. After the slam was over, the bar opened the mike to anyone who felt like sharing a poem. Severus’ eyes widened as Hermione stood up and mounted the stage. She had to lower the mike since the young muggle who went before her had been about six feet tall. She made a lot of noise while doing it.

Hermione cleared her throat and spoke into the mike. There was a bit of feedback. A muggle in a booth frantically turned some dials and the horrible noise ceased.

Hermione looked out into the darkness. She couldn’t see anyone. She tried speaking into the mike again.

“Hi, my name is Hermione Snape, and I have a short little poem I wrote for someone very special to me. I wrote it a long time ago. It’s untitled. I hope it isn’t too horrible,” she said.

Severus looked at his wife. She was lovely. Hermione dropped her head for a moment. The room fell completely silent. Then she raised her head, her eyes staring out across the room, her voice rising and falling with emotion.


We would all fall into blackness,
drowning in that shadow dancing behind
your eyes, if not for your sacrifice

I will gladly fall into that blackness
to bring light to your dark world,
stoking you with the flame of my body.

With you in that place of darkness,
I will burn like a thousand brilliant suns,
and you will find your solace.

Together in that space of darkness
our bodies entwined - we will raise the fire,
and reclaim our world.

Hermione fell silent. Then the crowd erupted with whistles and applause. Blushing, Hermione left the stage and rejoined her husband, whose black eyes fell on her.

“When did you write that?” he asked her, his voice a bit hoarse.

“The night I came back from my parent’s house, when I slept with you in your bed for the first time, and you showed me there was fire between us,” she said softly. “I slipped out of bed while you slept. My heart was so full I had to do something. So I wrote the poem.”

“You wrote it for me, then?” he asked her, his black eyes glittering at her in the darkness of the bar.

“Of course. Who else would I willingly “fall into darkness” with?” she replied.

Severus stared at her for a moment, and swallowed. He looked like he wanted to say something, but it wouldn’t come out. Finally, the Potions Master grabbed Hermione’s hand and rose.

“Let’s go home,” he said thickly, pulling her behind him. Hoots from the audience followed them as they exited the bar. Even the patrons could tell what was on the Potions Master’s mind.

Once outside, with no thought of the muggles surrounding them, Severus pulled Hermione close and kissed her, disapparating, startling everyone with the sudden peal of thunder.

They reappeared in their bedroom, mouths still locked. Severus pulled away from his wife, his dark eyes blazing. He didn’t waste anytime removing her clothing and pushing her hungrily into the bed. Hermione was blown away with his ardor as he divestoed his clothing, climbed into the bed and without ceremony, mounted her, thrusting himself deep inside her body. Hermione cried out and arched beneath him, gasping as he stared down at her, his black eyes deeper and more liquid than she had ever seen them before..

“I love you,” the Potions Master breathed, his voice quavering with the emotion behind his admission.

Hermione’s amber eyes snapped to his, and began to fill with tears. Severus had never told her this before. Lowering his mouth to hers, Severus took his wife slowly and lovingly, wrapping his arms around her, filling her completely, passionately whispering his love for her over and over in soft silken tones. The Potions Master repeatedly pressed himself deeply inside Hermione until he could get no closer, driving out any doubts that he truly and undeniably belonged to her.

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A/N: **Sniff** Awwww. First Severus sends Draco the pensieve of him slaughtering Dwayne and Wayne, letting the wizard know he knew he was behind it, driving him insane with fear, then he tells Hermione he loves her for the first time. What a sweet, sweet Potions Master. Lol. Please review.