Liaisons of the Mind

Chapter 3

Snape searched Hogwarts Castle in its entirety, discovering many scenes of horrific violence. Every one of the teachers had been brutally murdered in their own classroom. He had even found Dumbledore pinned to the wall of his office, metal stakes driven through his thighs and shoulders, blood dripping down to the floor. The murders reminded him of his early days as a death eater--days that he wished to forget. Thoroughly sickened by what he had found, the professor left the school and decided to make his way towards Hogsmeade...not that the town appealed to him much more than a castle full of bloody corpses would. He never really liked that place when it came down to it. Too much incessant chatter flying around and giddy students milling about--needless to say, he didn't hold fond memories after all those years.

As he walked, he noticed that the air was warm and humid, unlike the crisp feel of winter he was accustomed to during that time of year. He pulled out his wand again, not caring that he was only inside a student's mind. He didn't trust the puppeteer in control of Miss Granger. Straightening his robes, he took a deep breath. Snape saw that he was nearing the village and decidedly quickened his pace. Even from a distance he could tell that it looked deserted. The streets were quiet, and the store windows were black as coal. Walking around the village, he explored the area thoroughly. On his way back, he noticed a difference where he could have sworn there had been nothing but darkness earlier. He was unsure of how he had missed it, but there was a red glow coming from inside the Three Broomsticks, streaming out from under the door's cracks and crevices. The light was a deep shade of hell, and the stench of alcohol grew out of it, wafting through the air. His interest was peaked, so he sought to find some kind of back entrance into the establishment. While slinking around the side of the building he paused abruptly, due to a sharp pain in his head. He clenched his eyes shut and began to grind his teeth in an air of frustration. Rubbing his temple with his index finger, he sighed.

"Damn bloody headaches."

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Thud--Thud--Thud--Thud--Thud--Thud.

"Harry..."

Thud--Thud--Thud--Thud--Thud--Thud.

"Harry!" Ron's voice cracked. "Are you going to quit that? You've gone loony."

Ron sat in the hospital wing, next to Hermione's bed, looking mortified. Harry was not with his two friends. He was a row down, sitting parallel to Snape's head.

Thud--Thud--Thud--Thud--Thud--Thud.

Harry grinned mischievously as he continued flicking the top of Snape's forehead.

"What's he going to do about it, Ron? Give me detention? I've weighed the odds, and I'm willing to risk it," Harry said smugly.

"But, he's Snape...he'll just KNOW--somehow," Ron said nervously.

Harry shrugged and then got up from his Professor's bedside. He rejoined Ron and Hermione, hoping beyond hope that that greasy git of a Potions teacher was close to saving his friend.

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Hermione was panting for air. Her running slowed, and she finally came to a stop. Resting her hands on her knees, she bent over, attempting to catch her breath. The forest had cleared, and she was now on the edge of a village. There were no lights coming from the small town, but the full moon worked to illuminate the outline of several buildings.

Deep in thought, she walked along the dirt path leading into the village. She refused to believe that Harry was dead. It had to be a very powerful display of magic...maybe she had even been kidnapped. It could all just be some kind of cruel joke. Anything was possible, she decided, as she reached a back alley connecting several small shops.

Joy rose up in her as she left the alleyway and entered the main street, recognition dawning on her. She knew that the place had looked familiar! Hermione had never been more grateful to be in Hogsmeade. She had always thought the place to be overrated in all its novelties, but it felt wonderful to be somewhere familiar again. And being there meant that she was that much closer to being back at Hogwarts.

Hermione walked through the village, just happy to be done with her nightmare of a day. She had almost reached the edge of the lake when she heard footsteps coming from the opposite direction. Realizing that she was still without a wand, she tried to find a place to hide. But she didn't prove quick enough as someone came from behind and grasped her shoulder. The frightened student looked up to see the face of the Headmaster staring down at her. She visibly slumped with relief.

"Professor Dumbledore!" Hermione said, her tone showing excitement. She was about to let loose her entire story right then and there, but the older man cut her off before she could begin.

"Hermione, you must come with me. The others are waiting for us in the Three Broomsticks. Come my child, all will be explained," he said firmly, as he began to lead her back into town.

She followed him like a lost puppy, not even considering the strange circumstances at hand. She was definitely worn, showing signs that she wasn't at the top of her game. She didn't even question why the Headmaster would be out in the middle of the night, lurking around Hogsmeade. But she was quite satisfied with her ignorance, warmly secured in her blind faith. She smiled as they neared their location, hoping Harry, Ron and a warm butterbeer would be awaiting her arrival.

As they approached the Three Broomsticks, she noticed that it looked much different than it had the last time she passed it. Now it was darker than night, drenched in shadows, emitting only a crimson glow as the door swung open and closed--dark, hooded visitors coming and going from it. Dumbledore continued towards the entrance, not showing any signs of hesitation. Hermione grasped at the side of his robe, feeling that her proximity to him would protect her. She didn't feel comfortable going into such a meeting place, but she was too exhausted and confused to speak out. As they passed the threshold, her heart began to race, and sweat beaded up on her forehead. Madam Rosmerta was nowhere inside, and the once casual décor had been replaced with circular, crushed velvet booths. The lights were dim, but the whole interior seemed to glow red. The walls, fabric, floor and everything else imaginable were now the color of blood. There were dozens of pale faced men, dressed in black, sitting in the booths. They were whispering, staring at her--making her feel nauseated. The front of the room was topped off with a towering black stage. Luxurious curtains flowed from above, framing the area of entertainment, and gently rippling down along the floor. Intricate gothic-style music filled the room, showcasing the sounds of dark vocals and violin solos.

Hermione's attention reverted back to the Headmaster when his voice reached her ears.

"Wait here, I need to have a word with the others first," he said as he knocked on a closed door. It opened quickly, and Dumbledore stepped inside, shutting it behind him.

At that moment she felt a chill go over her body, but it wasn't from being cold. She turned around to face the hostile surroundings and realized that it was terrifying just being a door apart from the Headmaster.

A movement from the stage curtains caught her eye. Lights started to dim and then flash, creating a strobe-like effect. About seven or eight women strutted out onto the stage. They were beyond pale, their eyes heavy with black makeup. Their attire reminded Hermione of Muggle showgirls from the early 1900's, only with a gothic spin. The girls began to dance and sway suggestively to the music, which had grown louder. Some of them left the stage and started dancing very close to the men in the booths. Several couples formed and became intertwined, and Hermione couldn't tell who was snogging whom anymore. It disgusted her. Was this some kind of burlesque? A twisted whore house? Closing her eyes, she moved backwards until she hit the door and couldn't move any further.

Her eyes flew open, feeling hot breath on the side of her neck. A tall man from one of the booths had cornered her. His hair was long and black, snaking down to his waist. His face was pale and his eyes were cruel. Young and handsome, he seemed to be overly confident. Leaning in, he whispered into Hermione's ear.

"I'm thrilled to see that they brought in a new whore. You, my dear, are about to have experiences you could never have dreamt possible," he said in a raspy tone.

She was still in shock, which gave him enough time to run his tongue along the soft line of her ear.

"You're my whore now," he said in a mix of sensuality and brutality.

Hermione's eyes widened. As he reached out to touch her again, she reacted as if finally awoken from her stupor. Kicking him squarely between the legs, she was able to escape from his embrace. He growled in response. Now in pain, he was slower, but he was still able to grab his victim's wrist. He pinned her against the wall, pushing his muscular body against her small frame.

"You little bitch. A gentle evening is out of the question now. I see that you like it rough," he said, smirking.

She was about to scream, when the door opened behind her, revealing a frustrated Dumbledore.

"Pardon me, this young women is needed inside now. Thank you for keeping an eye on her for me," he said to the attacker as he swept Hermione away from the man and into the room.

She was grateful that the Headmaster locked the door behind them. The thought of almost being raped brought fresh tears to her eyes for the third time that day.

She stood there for several moments, attempting to recollect herself. Dumbledore was silent behind her, not making any attempts to comfort her. The room was empty, except for containing a queen size bed, a small night table and a lone chair. Harry and Ron were definitely not in the room. She wondered whom the Headmaster could have been talking to the whole time if the boys weren't in there.

"Professor, where are Harry and Ron?" she asked. He didn't answer.

"Professor?" Hermione turned to look at him.

She was shocked to see a cold, almost evil, expression on the old wizard's face. Never once in her life had she seen Dumbledore with a malicious look. The earlier urge to vomit came rushing back, but she forced herself to speak again.

"What's wrong with you, sir?"

He only smirked in response. She blinked a few times, trying to understand what was happening. Blink. Dumbledore. Blink. Dumbledore. Blink. Malfoy.

Malfoy! The face of her Headmaster had changed in an instant from the man that she knew into the appearance of her schoolmate, and group rival, Draco Malfoy.

"What in Merlin's name?" Hermione said in surprise and terror.

She didn't like the thought of being alone in a locked room with Malfoy, even if it was just the younger one. Who knew what he was capable of if provoked--or motivated.

"I've waited a long time for this, Mudblood," he said, stepping towards her.

A long time for what? What's he going to do to me? Why don't I have my wand? Oh Merlin. Oh Merlin. Thoughts flew threw Hermione's head quicker than she could process them.

She was trapped, pinned in, the back of her knees touching the end of the bed. He was inches from her now, donning a cocky grin that made her sick. He leaned in towards her, eyes level with hers, but she refused to look at him.

"Don't look away from me, Mudblood!" He said sharply.

She refused to comply, turning her head further from him. He snorted and stomped his foot like a child who couldn't have his way. In a fit of rage, he yelled a few expletives and lashed out at her. She fell back onto the bed, reeling from a punch that Draco landed square on her jaw.

Hermione's eyes were watering, a mixture from the resulting pain and her fearful tears. Her vision was blurred, causing her to become disoriented. The door made a soft click, and she felt the presence of at least two other men enter the room. She could see enough to tell that one figure was tall and cloaked in black. Another man stood adjacent to him, wearing a twisted mask and dark robes. The one with the hood over his head spoke to Draco.

"Well done boy. You have brought us the final piece in our plan," he said proudly. Then he continued, "She will prove quite useful. Quite useful indeed."

Hermione shuddered, wondering if her day of hell would ever end.

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Walking along the side of the Three Broomsticks, Snape finally found something of interest. A small window was left propped open about a quarter of an inch. He peered in, and was surprised by what he saw. Albus Dumbledore was inside, pacing back and forth, seemingly waiting for something or someone.

The scene that unfolded before his eyes was surprising to say the least. He watched as his student was escorted into the room. He ducked down for a moment, worried that she had seen him through the window, but soon he returned, being careful to stay out of sight. He came back up in time to see Dumbledore transform into Draco Malfoy.

Now this is getting interesting, Snape thought.

He was startled when Draco punched Miss Granger. He realized that he couldn't just sit there spying. He had to make a move. He rose to his feet, ready to do what he must.

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Harry sighed. They had been sitting in the hospital wing for hours. Ron was asleep, slumped in his chair, drool running down his chin. He decided something had to be done about Hermione. Sitting there like invalids wasn't helping her any.

"Ron, wake up," said Harry.

His friend stirred, still seeming groggy.

"Bloody hell, Harry. I'm trying to sleep," Ron said in a bit of a slur.

"Wake up, Ron. I have a plan," Harry said again, more determined than ever.

"What is it then?" Ron said, yawning and rubbing his eyes.

"We have to make a move now, before it's too late. Hermione is just lying there, her only hope with Professor Snape. That's a problem in itself. We have to find out how to cure her...maybe even find who's doing this to her," he said firmly.

"Alright, I'm up for it. But how're we going to start?" Ron asked his friend.

Harry's eyes looked alive, putting ideas together as they spoke.

"Okay, Ron, here's the plan..."