Liaisons of the Mind

Chapter Four

Snape's footsteps barely made a sound as he crept around the front of the Three Broomsticks. He entered the establishment with an air of danger, exuding intimidation as only a former Death Eater could. His black robes proved useful in camouflage techniques, making it difficult to tell him apart from the rest of the shifty crowd. He couldn't identify anyone in the bar as a Death Eater, but they gave him an uneasy feeling nonetheless.

Steadily moving towards the back of the room, he examined several doors along the way. His mind worked to piece together where Miss Granger might be hidden. Choosing one in the far corner, he pressed his ear against it--wary of using magic at this point.

He could hear several muffled voices beyond the wooden frame. Faint whimpers were intermingled, plainly illustrating the pain his student was feeling. He stopped eavesdropping in order to focus on the scenarios running through his head. He was trying to decide what to say if the Dark Lord was inside--what to say to preserve his position as a spy. It would have been prudent to make such plans in advance, but answers were just as slow in coming then as they were now.

Oh, to hell with it all, he snarled to himself, throwing caution to the wind. He knew he could manage without a script. He wasn't known as a foul and loathsome bastard due to his kind heart and honest words. He was a Slytherin for a reason, and confidence--bordering on cockiness--was not something that he lacked.

Decision made, he knocked firmly on the door and waited. He knew that the delay was due to the room's occupants using magic to identify him. He tapped his foot impatiently, not thrilled at having to play the submissive role. Patience may be a virtue, but it was a bloody aggravating one, in his opinion.

Finally the door opened, and he was ushered inside. The hooded figure turned to Draco and the other Death Eater and whispered to them. In response, they both walked past Snape, brushing his shoulder roughly on their way out of the room. Young Malfoy sneered at his Professor, seeming bitter about having to step out.

"So good of you to join us, Severus," the man said as he pulled off his hood. "I was worried that you weren't going to show up for the fun."

Snape was overcome with relief when Lucius Malfoy revealed himself. Although he didn't particularly favor the man, it was a far better gamble than facing the Dark Lord. He felt more confident now--maybe he could play his cards right after all.

"Lucius," he said, giving a stiff nod. "The Dark Lord has sent me to check on your progress with the girl."

"That's quite unnecessary, I assure you. We both know that my capabilities are up to par..."

And yet, I'm feeling generous tonight..." Lucius said, pausing for effect. "Perhaps you should be the one to complete the ritual. Right, old friend?" he said, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Of course, my friend. I will gladly take over," Snape said with voice as silk.

Lucius nodded and then handed him a crimson robe, stopping to grip his wrist firmly.

"Remember that the Dark Lord is counting on our success. But a faithful servant such as yourself surely knows that," Malfoy said as he quirked a brow.

Snape roughly pulled the robe from the Death Eater's hands and sneered.

"Of course. I have never failed our Master, and I do not plan on breaking that record any time soon," he replied.

Lucius turned to leave but stopped near the door. Turning, he flashed a grin of perverse amusement.

"Oh and Severus, let us know when you're done with her," he said as he started to laugh. "And to think...if only that old codger, Dumbledore, knew that you were deflowering one of your own students. Simply Priceless. I would almost pay to see the look on that fool's face.

"Don't forget to put her in those ceremonial robes when you've finished. I'll prepare the next phase of the ritual. And do try to have a little fun, Severus. Life's too short not to enjoy the spoils of war."

Lucius ended his words with a quick nod and left the room, shutting the door behind him.

Severus let out an exasperated sigh, turning to face the girl he was sent to rescue. She was huddled in the back corner of the bed, trembling. Her eyes were wide, showing that she was clearly traumatized.

"Do try to calm yourself, Miss Granger. Whimpering and whining aren't going to get us anywhere," he snapped, ignoring the fact that any other man would at least show her the common courtesy of sympathy.

"I have a plan, but you're going to have to put on an act. Hopefully that isn't too difficult for you," he said.

Her fear seemed to be overcome by her ever-present sense of curiosity. She fired questions at him, hoping to gain some answers.

"What's going on, sir? How did you find me? What is this place?" she asked.

"All will be explained in time. We must focus on the task at hand," he said, wishing that she would stop talking.

"You must act as though I am forcing myself on you. I realize how loathsome that prospect is," he sneered, "but, we can't have the Death Eaters suspect anything.

"Therefore, you struggle, and I'll explain the plan," he said.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, staring at her. She finally figured out that he was waiting for her to act.

"Oh, erm. GET OFF ME! Stop! Please don't!" she shouted.

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose. He spoke softly,

"That was absolutely pathetic Miss Granger. I won't have a student of mine putting forward such a weak performance," he prodded her.

Hermione narrowed her eyes, annoyed by his insults. How dare he manipulate her after all she'd been through? She let out a shrill scream.

"You greasy git! You bloody bat! Get the hell off me! I'd rather die than be touched by you!!" she gritted out, ending the rant by making sounds to imply she had spat in his face.

"Getting better, Miss Granger. Now, about my plan," he said. "This will sound strange to you, but I need you to imagine an old memory from your past. Something safe. A place where you felt untouchable. Think."

She scrunched her noise, raking through her memories. She jumped when he yelled.

"You filthy Mudblood whore! I'll teach you to show some respect. It's a pity that our dear Potter doesn't get to be the one to take your innocence. I will enjoy pounding every bit of know-it-all out of you until you're left broken, begging for me to take you again," he said darkly.

He ripped the bed sheet, creating the sound of clothing being torn. He then turned back to Hermione and raised an eyebrow. He lowered his voice again.

"Have you thought of anything yet? Please, don't let my act disturb the intricate workings of your teenage mind," he said icily.

Hermione blanched.

"How do you expect me to do any quality thinking with you shouting such things?" she asked, showing her frustration. "That speech didn't exactly kindle fond memories."

Hermione soon realized that she had no choice. After some fake sobbing, throwing of furniture and more yelling, she finally thought of a memory.

"Okay, I've thought of one," she said quietly.

"Good. I want you to concentrate solely on that memory. Nothing else exists--let it all fade away. It's just you and your safe haven, nothing else," he coaxed. "You must overcome this situation. Let yourself tap into your mind. Concentrate."

She jumped slightly as he placed his index fingers on her temples, his other fingers wrapping around the sides of her head.

"Concentrate," he repeated, letting his deep voice sooth her. "Our minds can work together. Draw me into your memory--into your mind."

Their eyes locked, and Hermione felt a strange, tingling sensation. It was the prickles that one gets when a limb falls asleep, but it was coming from inside her head. She tried to close her eyes, but Snape reprimanded her, insisting that she again 'concentrate.'

She felt his presence in her memory. The room that they were in started to spin, and everything seemed to go blurry. The last thing she remembered was her Professor's voice before things went black.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"What?! You're not letting him complete the plan, are you, Father? You said I could take her," Draco spat furiously.

"Show some respect, boy," Malfoy Senior seethed, gripping his son's arm. "You don't think he's actually going to rape her, do you?"

After he spoke, Hermione's screams echoed from the room. Snape sounded angry with her, yelling something about her being a Mudblood whore.

"H-he's actually going through with it..." Draco stammered, eyes wide.

"You imbecile, of course he's not. You don't think that he's a spy because of his dashing looks and suave manner, do you? Severus Snape sleeps with deception, claiming it as his mistress," he said matter-of-factly. "And to think, he actually believes that the Dark Lord is behind this delicate plan," he laughed.

"It looks as though you might be losing your touch, old friend," Lucius concluded.

"What do we do now?" His son asked.

"We will be doing some searching. I wonder where in the Mudblood's mind they'll be headed first. What fun this is. Leave it to Severus to make things interesting," he smiled, for oh, how he loved a challenge.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Hermione groaned, shifting slightly. She wondered if everything had been a dream--one hell of a dream at that. Opening her eyes, she was disoriented. Darkness was everywhere. Shaking the last bit of confusion, she realized that she was just in her bed, under her covers. Pulling the blanket down, she smiled at the site of her room. It filled her with comfort, surrounding her with the soft glow of her bedside lamp, contrasting with the dark night outside. Her pink walls and all twenty-six of her stuffed animals (named and ordered alphabetically, of course)--

Stuffed animals?! She blinked in confusion. This wasn't her current Muggle room, and it obviously wasn't her room in Hogwarts. It was an exact replica from her past.

She visibly jumped when she heard a moan from under the covers. She reached over to see what was there. The mass beneath the thick comforter snorted.

"If you except to live, you shall kindly remove your hand from my thigh, Miss Granger," he said sharply.

"Oh!" she gasped, drawing her hand back. "Sorry, I uh. Well, it's hard to distinguish what's what from under all these blankets," she said, blushing.

He sat up, taking a look around the room. He especially noted the wall color.

"I never would have taken you for a pink type-of-girl," he said as he raised an eyebrow.

"Oh yes, that. Well, my mum chose it for me. I never really fancied it much myself," she lied.

As a girl she had loved the feminine shade, and secretly longed to be a princess when she grew up. Of course, that phase didn't last long, her thoughts turning much more practical after her first taste of school. She was decisively the most ambitious six-year-old in her class.

"Why are you in my bed, Professor?" she asked him suddenly.

"You're the one that brought us here...to this memory of sorts. But why you'd choose a pink, stuffed-animal-filled room of all places is beyond me. It's actually making me feel ill--like I had a long night with the bottle and misplaced my Hangover Potion," he said.

They sat in silence for a few moments. Snape started to become aware of the fact that they were still sharing the same bed. He swung his legs around, preparing to stand. He stopped short when a soft knocking came from the door.

"Quick, hide," Hermione hissed. "It's mum!"

He didn't have time to look for a hiding spot, choosing instead to slink back under the covers. Hermione then covered his side with her stuffed animals, hiding his form.

"Come in mummy," she called out.

Mrs. Granger opened the door and smiled at her daughter.

"Still awake, dear? I'll tell your favorite bedtime story and then it's straight to sleep with you. It's your very first day of school tomorrow after all," she said gently.

"Something tells me that you're going to like school, love," she told her daughter.

"Yes, I want to," Hermione said simply, trying to play the role of the six-year-old daughter that her mother saw. If she only knew.

Hermione could feel Snape shift uncomfortably next to her. Her mother sat down on the bed and opened a small book, beginning to read. She paused only to instruct Hermione to scoot over more to make room.

It was a very awkward situation for Hermione. Her mother was on one side of her, reading her a bedtime story. On the other side of her was Hogwart's snarky Potions Professor, running out of space on the bed after all their 'making room.'

She tried to keep calm when her leg touched his leg. She felt him pull away, but move back again to touch her. She was surprised at first, but then had to stifle a giggle, realizing that her Teacher had almost fallen off the edge of the bed to get away. There were clearly stuck in close proximity until her mother decided to move.

Finally her mum stopped reading and kissed her forehead.

"Goodnight Hermione. Sleep well, love," she said as she turned out the light and left the room.

Hermione moved away from Snape, giving him some room.

"Now what do we do?" she asked him.

She was glad that the lights were out, hiding her reddening cheeks. It was rather embarrassing sharing such a vulnerable moment from her childhood with her Potions Professor, let alone playing footsies with him unintentionally.

"It should be obvious. I guess you don't know as much as you appear to know.

We use this spot to figure out a new plan, until they find us here. It's only a matter of time," he explained.

This accursed place must be draining my energy as well. I can't recall what Albus said about getting back once I found her. I think we're supposed to--no, that's not right. Well, we could always try--preposterous. Evasive actions may be needed sooner than I imagined, he thought.

"There is one thing that we can try. And this time we're going to do it my way," he commanded. Taking hold of her head, he stared into her eyes.

"Again, Professor? I'm not sure I can take much more of this," she said, already starting to feel dizzy.

"Focus, Miss Granger. Focus on what I put in your mind. Concentrate on my memory. Become one with my thought. Do not explore, just obey. Concentrate," he said firmly.

Soon they lost hold of Hermione's room, finding themselves drifting somewhere else entirely. It was like floating through a tunnel, heading somewhere unknown--somewhere that held the safety of light.

As soon as they faded out, Lucius faded in. He took in the child-like room, picking up the book of fairy tales next to the girl's bed. Finding the youthfulness of it all amusing, he tried on the appropriate banter.

"Come out, come out wherever you are, Severus. You can't hide forever," he smirked.