A Different Kind of Magic--UNDERGOING EDIT

I hope you guys and gals are enjoying the story. Here is another chapter as I will be busy tomorrow. This chapter starts out innocuous enough but gets nasty and than terrifying. Warnings for cutting mixed with sexual pleasure and and terror at the end.

****NOTE WARNINGS ABOVE IN CASE YOU SKIPPED IT******




Chapter 65- Fallout of a Grim Fascination

Hermione gazed out the fogged glass into the overgrown garden in front of the house. Severus had only been gone almost a week, but it felt like an eternity. It almost felt as if he had been taken captive again. She yearned for his company like one would a hot cuppa after coming in from the cold. There was something about running her fingers through his scruff of hair that sometimes resembled a black shaggy dog when he was fresh from a shower or soaked with sweat from lovemaking. She loved running her fingernails along his scalp, imagining she could hear a throaty growl coming from his scratchy throat when she closed her eyes and dreamed he was just out of reach. Her forehead knocked against the window, a small break in her heart longing for the closeness only he could provide.

She was unbearably bored. There was only so much she could do locked away in a cottage full of Dumbledore’s old book collection and a rambunctious four year old. Oh, there was plenty around to occupy her time, if someone considered her to be content forever as the most intelligent homemaker in the wizarding world. Why did Severus have to leave? What was so pressing that he couldn’t confide in her? Hermione imagined that he had almost seemed, well, happy with their little arrangement. What had at first been a bit disconcerting to see her former potions professor in such an idyllic setting had become a very endearing image seared into her memory. There was nothing quite like sitting across from someone your intellectual equal and discussing the finer points of arithmantic equations in potions development or the experimental molecular subversion of potions ingredients to enhance already established stand-bys and improve on them.

Teddy was very diversionary at times, for a small child. Books were read, games were played, lessons were conducted, and the child seemed content. There was little she could teach him in the way of magic beyond helping him to control his power and guiding him to understand the implications of using it without purpose. She struggled, surprisingly, with the Elemental magic concepts. They were supposedly simple and nature based, but she found that her adult mind lacked some essential ingredient to the successful application of translating teaching the concepts from paper to practical application. Teddy was easily able to take a memory of the sun and make a small light. She was a powerful witch, but mystified how he was able to make it look so simple. Hermione had a feeling the books she had on the shelves were useless. Her next task, if she was able, was to find someone knowledgeable to aid her or a more arcane book on the subject. Being overly bright, Teddy often surprised her when he seemed to know exactly what was on her mind. His little trick seemed like a cousin to Legilimency, but he could be in another part of the house and still know what was going on. To call it disturbing was an understatement, but his young mind had yet to grasp more advanced, adult concepts, thank Circe. She was working on a mental shield charm to keep him from reading her mind, but again, had come up blank so far. The child was as much an enigma as Severus.

A small smirk played about her lips in anticipation of a visitor. His father was going to be visiting later today to bring supplies. There had been no word on any advancement with the Prophecy so she sat with her wistful eyes gazing sightlessly through the glass while Teddy played a game at her feet.

Hermione let out a sigh and was blessed with a pair of snug little arms wrapping around her legs with the dirty towhead pressed into the folds of her skirt. Off he skipped up the stairs, humming as he went. She couldn’t have loved a child more if he had been her very own.

Conflicting desires warred within. She desperately wanted get out of the cottage and do something constructive; anything really. Teddy was the only thing keeping her there, that and McGonagall’s faith in her to follow orders. Hadn’t she always been the good little Gryffindor, doing as she was told? She chewed on her lip with frustration. Of course, she didn’t have the benefit of knowing exactly all that was going on with the Ministry minute by minute, but she thought there must be something more she could be doing besides sitting on her arse.

Hermione drew herself away from the window and fixed a light supper for herself and the boy. A few games and stories saw Teddy tucked in for the night. He was disappointed his father hadn’t shown up that afternoon, but Hermione reassured the lad that with the start of the school year upon them, he was probably caught up in last minute preparations.

She had been looking forward to his visit as well. No one else had bothered to stop by, not that she was really expecting anyone in particular. A tiny bit of her thought Minerva might drop in at any moment for a matronly chat and how-do, but no such luck this time. Things must really be keeping everyone on edge for it to be so quiet. Hermione sighed again as she fingered the mildly dusty volumes along one of the shelves in the living room. The light touch of her fingers bounced along the spines and came to rest on a particularly old book. She squinted to see the title which was obscured by the odd shadows thrown from the firelight.

“Lumos.” The title jumped out at her. Prophetiae Merlini. Unaware of her own sharp intake of breath, her shaking hands pulled the fragile tome from its resting place and gingerly placed it on a low table well away from the fire. What the hell is this doing here? she wondered, completely in awe of how old this text must be. Hermione could have sworn this text wasn’t on the shelves the first hundred times she had perused them. This book was a medieval copy of what was supposedly the original scribed works of the Prophecies of Merlin the Magician from the times of King Arthur. There were no known copies in existence save those that had been heavily edited and published as bestselling tripe to the Muggle public, long after the story of Merlin had passed into legend.

It was a fantasy of hers, to have travelled back in time to one of the great libraries of the early or Middle Ages. She closed her eyes and could envision herself in the great library at Alexandria before it burned. Handwritten volumes on every subject imaginable. Great vaults housed in the Vatican or various and sundry hidden government compounds across the globe. Many Pureblood wizarding families surely held books that had passed into obscurity. How such a rare gem graced a plain, nondescript Secret-Kept cottage belonging to Albus Dumbledore was beyond her, but she wasn’t about to let it out of her sight.

Before her fingertip hit the edge of the front cover, the Floo was activated and Remus stepped through, coughing slightly and dusting himself off. Hermione jumped up and gave him a warm hug, smiles from each of them aimed at the other.

“Hermione! You look like you’re doing well. Tell me all the exciting news!” he teased, patting her arm before settling himself in a chair opposite hers.

She rolled her eyes, huffing a little before taking a chair across from him. “You could hardly call this place excitement central. I’ve been waiting for something to do since you last told me to wait for news of the Prophecy.”

“Straight to business.” Professor Lupin scratched his head, quirking his mouth a little. “Yes, well, there’s been a bit of a snag.”

“Why? What’s happened?” His reaction had alarmed her. Wasn’t it just the law of the universe that something always had to go wrong twice before one thing went right? It was irritating.

“Colin had gone off with Rabastan to get in with Lucius to help out with the workload on trying to keep a step ahead with the whole thing. He finally got Lucius to trust him after a bit of a tussle, but it was a relief to get that sorted.”

Hermione pulled out some of Severus’ brandy and two snifters. Inclining her head to the alcohol in question and then looking pointedly at Remus, a look of surprise passed over his face before he nodded.

“Just one. I’m watching my waistline.”

She just smiled and poured two fingers as he continued on.

“Rabastan was called away about five days ago to a meeting with Lucius. It was quite a shock for all of us when I found him outside Hogsmeade. He had nearly been Crucio’d to death.”

Hermione gasped and would have dropped her brandy if she’d been holding it. After hearing this bit of news she knocked back the shot and poured another, her hands shaking unsteadily. The amber drops of liquid splashed minutely over the side and trailed down her fingers. She set it down, careful to avoid the priceless book in front of her.

“Oh my god, Remus. Is he going to be ok?”

“Yes. He’s mostly healed up. Another day or two and he should be right as rain. Gave us quite a scare though.”

“What on earth happened?”

“From what he’s told us, Lucius has a secret underground fortress under Snape Manor. Hermione, I’d rather not tell you all the gory details, but there have been some very disturbing things going on. It appears that the entire war was staged. Rabastan was told that Voldemort had intended for the side of the light to appear to win all along and then attack from the inside out. The reaches of the Death Eaters went far beyond what we ever suspected. Only the actual death of Voldemort himself was unplanned. An inner circle of Death Eaters had knowledge of this ultimate plan and had a backup plan in place. They did a bunch of house cleaning in the Ministry and successively cut out their own people and replaced them with people they could control. The whole lot of them was so mistrustful of each other but hungry for power, they kept killing each other off until Malfoy was the only one left who knew what the real objective was. He’s got the first object of the Prophecy.”

“What?” Hermione pulled herself up straight, eyes wide with confusion. “I wasn’t aware there were any objects associated with the Prophecy that could be traced. The Prophecy mentioned a number of items but I took them to be symbolic.”

“We though the same until Lucius inducted Rabastan to be his right hand man and spilled the beans about what he knew. He wants Rabastan to do his dirty work for him and oversee finding the different parts of the Prophecy.”

“Oh my god. How on earth is he going to cope with teaching and being Lucius’ pet?”

“We haven’t quite figured that out. We were hoping that Colin could help him out with that but Lucius wouldn’t let him come along on the last excursion. It seems he wants to test Colin before he’ll let him along for the ride.”

“What sort of test?”

Lupin pursed his lips and frowned. “I’d prefer not to tell you that. I’m sorry, I know you are an Order member but there are some things better left unsaid.”

Hermione begrudgingly agreed and settled back against her seat once more, feeling the stiff burn of the second shot as it coursed down her throat. That one was for Severus, wherever he was. She fought to control the tide of emotion that threatened to sweep her over the edge of tears. It wasn’t fair, all the hurt they all had to endure. This news was a shock to her system, and for a moment she wished he was there to help her absorb it all, kiss it all better. Instead she had to face it alone once Remus was gone.

“So Remus, this object that Malfoy has. What is it exactly?”

“He claims it was the wizard Merlin’s ring. It’s bewitched in some manner and gives Lucius a great deal of power. It didn’t take much to set him off apparently and that’s why Rabastan was Apparated back to us in his condition. Now that we know a bit more of what we’re up against we plan to be more on our guard for this sort of thing to escalate.”

“I can’t believe the victory was just a farce. No wonder the Ministry’s been able to lord such power over the populace. The side of the Light was never in control, was it?” The thought made her sick to her stomach. All of a sudden she wasn’t all that keen on having slam-dunked two brandies in a row.

“From what we gathered, parts of the Ministry were under control of some trusted folk for a number of months, but other departments were not. It was a gradual takeover. Too many bureaucrats were too busy celebrating and letting their guard down when they should have been scrutinizing everything going on under their noses. Now we’re left with a megalomaniac that could end up being a greater threat than the Dark Lord, and to top it all off, you, Teddy and Severus are at the top of his hit list.”

The blood ran ice cold in her veins. Severus was out there somewhere. She knew he was a cunning man and knew what Lucius Malfoy was capable of, but not with the added threat this supposed ring added to the mix.

“Hermione, is something else wrong?” Remus asked, concern stilting his voice an octave.

“It’s just a bit much to take in all at once. I don’t know what to think. I just need some time to adjust is all.”

Remus looked around the room and seemed to notice right at that moment that Severus hadn’t appeared. “Where’s Professor Snape?” he asked.

Shite. Now she was either going to have to tell him or lie. She hated lying to people. It went against every grain in her being, but she had promised Severus to keep his whereabouts secret. Loyalty to her lover won out over her loyalty to the Order. What they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them at this point.

“He’s finishing up a delicate batch of potions at the moment and said he didn’t want to be disturbed.”

This explanation seemed to appease Remus, for he nodded once and set a bag of supplies on the floor and magicked it to its proper dimensions. “Here’s everything you need for the week. I brought you more than what is needed for a couple of weeks in case things get hairy the beginning of term. Tell Severus we are pretty good on potions at the moment, maybe just a few more healing potions and Pepper-up.”

Hermione nodded dumbly, feeling the lie stuck in her throat like an unchewed piece of meat.

“Are you sure you’re ok? You look a little pale. I could have Ava pop over and give you a checkup if you’re feeling out of sorts.”

“No, I’m fine, really. Teddy just keeps me pretty busy and sometimes I don’t sleep well in a strange place. With only two bedrooms still opened Severus and I take turns sleeping on the couch. Neither of us feel comfortable using the bedrooms or bathroom where the incident happened.”

Remus snuck a cursory glance toward the kitchen door and leaned forward to whisper. “The old man’s been treating you alright, hasn’t he? Not been giving you any trouble? I know he can be a mean git sometimes, but you just let me know if he’s giving you any problems and I’ll talk to him.”

“No, really, its fine. He’s been fine. I’m just tired, and honestly, I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can Hermione, but friends look after each other, right?”

She felt a bit sheepish after her retort. “Yes, they do.”

“Sorry my boy’s running you into the ground.”

“No really, he’s fine. Just high spirited, but I suppose most four year old boys would be.”

“Give him a hug and a kiss from his ol’ dad, will you?”

“He’s going to be disappointed he missed seeing you.”

“I’ll pop in three or four days from now. Tell him I’ll have a surprise to make it up to him.”

“You spoil him. How am I supposed to compete when all you do is shower him with gifts?”

“Father’s prerogative,” Remus grinned and stood to leave. “I’ve got to finalize a few things and help some of the others help catch up with Rabastan’s classroom prep since he’s been in bed all week.”

“Say hi to everyone for me. I miss the company.”

“Well you’ve got Severus and Teddy, haven’t you? Don’t worry; I’m sure I’ll have something for you to do real soon.”

“Thanks for everything Remus. You’re the best.”

“Anytime.”

With that, she gave him a light hug and watched wearily as he Floo’ed back to Hogwarts.

She felt so alone at that moment, and the firelight seemed to mock her loneliness by casting garish shadows on the wall behind her, making her silhouette appear like some monstrosity about to devour the furniture.

Drawing herself from the introspection, her attention returned to the book before her. The hours slipped away while she studiously devoured the delicate pages and foreign symbols with a modified translation charm. Eventually, the intense concentration the text required took its toll and she closed her eyes, just for a minute, and fell dead asleep curled up in the oversized chair.

She woke with a start, the early morning tendrils of dawn creeping over her mussed countenance. Her head throbbed from the meager amount of Firewhisky she had imbibed, and her neck ached from the position she had fallen asleep in. A pang of sadness swept through her, facing another day without Severus. Each day made her feel a little more disconsolate. Hermione hadn’t realized how much she had come to rely on his company for her own comfort. There was penance to be had in the deeds she performed in atonement for letting him down so badly in their recent past. The urge to cut hadn’t been upon her for a few weeks until now. Slowly, the need to purge herself of this filthy self-detestment gnawed at her insides.

Glancing up the stairs to see if any little eyes were peeking down, she ensured Teddy was still asleep as she crept into the loo and shakily took a razor blade from its hidden place behind a charmed panel in the wall. The shiny, razor-sharp edge beckoned to her with a siren’s call. Promises of relief were stark in her memory as she quickly brought the blade down to her arm and moaned when the pain overcame her. Each slice was exquisite in its ability to absorb and absolve the bad parts of her soul that had become entrenched in her psyche.

Four more slices quickly disconnected skin from skin and let the blood sluice down her arm to splatter and paint an unlikely relief against the wash basin. In her mind, Hermione was letting the blood symbolize her inability to cope with her perceived failures. It was an instant rapture that brought a sick smile to her face. She had begun to perceive the pain as a sort of pleasure. The stark contrast in her emotional state translated into a low thrum in her nether regions.

Nothing felt quite like the romancing of death, the thrill that tickled every nerve ending from her head to her toes. Hermione opened her eyes and was mesmerized by the pooling of her life essence trickling down the drain. A never ending spiral that sucked it all away until there would be nothing left but her empty shell. A small sob escaped her as images of a vampire or incubi taking her while she bled ran rampant through her mind. In a trance, her mouth moved forward of its own accord. The plump lips lowered over the cuts to suckle them softly. Eyes rolling back in her head, Hermione dropped the razor blade with a clatter and shoved her undamaged hand into her knickers.

Little lithe, educated fingers tweaked her own clit and slicked juices from her damp cunt over the throbbing pleasure center. Her hips bucked forward slightly, banging her hand against the edge of the basin. Her sucking grew more frantic, her fantasy now of Severus sucking at her neck like the vampire of legend from her days as a student. It was one she used to entertain quite often back in the day. Two fingers thrust themselves into her hot pussy and the thumb ground on her clit with fanatical determination.

Despair, shame, guilt, loathing, hate all boiled to the surface and entwined with her magical energy, forcing itself out of her in sparks that dripped with darkness. Her mind was a whirling miasma of orgy, teetering on the edge of self destruction and the delusion of a sexual release that would do nothing to assuage her dilemma.

Hermione fucked her own hand shamelessly and cried out against her stained, broken skin as the darkness broke forth and shot an explosion of power from her and into the opposite wall. Hermione keened from the intense orgasmic release, vaguely aware of the destruction that plunged her into the wall behind her. The torture of plaster, glass and flying porcelain mixed in with the delicious black magic that squeezed her inner devil with a primal satisfaction independent from the former curse that had held her hostage. This had all come of its own accord from what already existed within her damaged psyche.

Bits of ceiling rained down on her head and the dust settled all around her. She came down with the debris back to reality and was shocked at the annihilation of half the cottage bathroom. The mirror, sink, wall and ceiling were blown apart. Timbers groaned from the loss of support. With a jerk, she jumped to her feet and skittered over the jumble of destruction into the living room.

Had that really come from her? What the hell? Hardly daring to believe her eyes, a self check determined that besides some bumps and bruises, she was relatively unscathed. Furious with herself for losing control of her magic, her lower lip trembled when thoughts of Teddy came to the front of her mind. This was just another example of her stupidity. The trust of others in her with the small boy had just been shattered. She couldn’t go on with this sort of hurt building up inside if it put him in danger.

Taking a few steadying breaths, she drew her wand, cleansed and knitted up the cuts on her arms. A quick scourgify took off most of the debris and blood. Her clothes were a ripped mess, but she didn’t waste any more time as she bounded up the stairs to check on Teddy.

He was sitting up in his bed, wide-eyed with that deer in the headlights look. The small head shook itself and looked twice before he registered Hermione standing in the doorway.

“Are you okay?” Hermione rushed to his side, holding both of his arms.

“Miss Hermione, we gotta get out of here! There is monsters coming!” He gestured wildly toward the window and made his arms go as wide as he could make them to indicate size.

“No, no, everything is okay. There was an accident with magic downstairs but everything is fine now. All I need to do is clean up the mess. Trust me, all you need to do is get dressed and I’ll make you some breakfast.” Her unconvincing smile translated to tears in his eyes. The blast had really scared the crap out him.

“You don’t understand, the bad magic told the monsters to come and get us. They’re coming we have to go!” Teddy wrenched himself out of her grasp and ran to the window. A high pitched shriek pierced the air as he cowered away back to the bed, hiding under the covers.

“What’s the matter? Nothing can get in here Teddy. We’re safe. It’s okay!” She desperately tried to coax him out from under the blankets but all she got in reply was his finger pointing to the window. Hermione indulged him by striding over and having a look. Her stomach dropped into her feet at the sight of a small herd of – something – coming toward the cottage. It looked like a grey and brown mass of limbs all vying for the same small space but moving inexplicably fast toward them.

Oh, fuck! What the hell is that?

Bile rose into her throat, burning it with acid at the sight. Her tremulous voice did nothing to calm either of them as she continued to ply Teddy with words of comfort. Surely, Minerva wouldn’t put them somewhere unsafe? For the life of her, she couldn’t figure out what the hell that pile of limbs was!

A bright light and zap sounded, indicating the arrival of the mass at the wards. They were repelled. The figures separated into a half dozen or so brown, grey and black bodies. They were hideous, even from a distance.

Holy mother of Merlin, they’re trying to get past the wards! Minerva said natural magical beings would be burnt by the wards unless…. The horrible realization hit Hermione that whatever was trying to get in wasn’t naturally magical. It was an unknown entity they had best not mess with.

Heeding Teddy’s warning, she told him to stay put and Apparated downstairs to save time. She quickly transfigured the precious tome from the night before and clutched it under her arm. There was no time to find the stone Professor Flitwick had given her. Teddy had played with it and she didn’t know where it was. Everything from the kitchen and potions lab would have to be left behind if they had to flee. The supplies from Remus were still in the trunk next to the chair where he had left it. She shrunk it and put it under her other arm.

Apparating back to Teddy’s bedroom, she dared a quick look out the window and stifled a scream as the wards came down under the working of the things. Hermione flung herself onto the bed and wrapped her arms around the boy.

Where the hell can I go? Her mind drew a blank. Cotswold was a hell of a way from Hogwarts. She wasn’t sure she could Apparate that far safely in her state of mind and with Teddy in tow. Oh god, if only she knew of someplace nearby!

She briefly entertained the notion of using the Floo, but suddenly the crash of several windows busting in made her tense around the soft cries of the terrified child. She wasn’t going to have a choice. Hermione would have to Apparate blind and pray to the Goddess above she didn’t splinch them or land in a body of water.

The clumsy thumping of bodies scrambling up the stairs mingled with harsh grunts and slavering snarls. She squeaked and Disapparated with a loud Crack.

In the next moment the body of a Slaystryker smashed open the door and snapped its jaws into the air where the boy and woman had been only seconds before. Its howl of frustration echoed throughout the empty cottage. Incensed by its elusive quarry, the half dozen beasts systematically tore everything to shreds. By the time they were done, anyone who entered the cottage would be hard pressed to imagine that anyone had ever inhabited the residence.

With a sniff in the air, the Slaystrikers slinked out of the cottage and took off, back on the hunt for their next prey, or if they could pick up the scent, the prey their Lord had commanded them to capture. With renewed vigor, the leader grunted and trotted off towards Cotswold village.