“beyond wandpoint” 002 by gingerbred

[beyondwandpoint]

“Intro - And so it begins...”

In which the scene is set...

Hermione and Severus are both hating life. One of them may have more justification for doing so.

---

Originally Published: 2017-11-05 on AO3
Chapter: 002

Pairing: Hermione Granger / Severus Snape
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con

---

---

In retrospect, a number of things had to come together in the (im-)perfect storm to so thoroughly upend his life. If any one of them hadn't occurred - not that they were singularly so improbable, but their convergence and cumulative effect had proven most unfortunate at the time - then he might have escaped... unfettered. But that wasn't the case, and he didn't.


Obviously.


Potter and Weasley were complete knobs. No surprise there then. (Hermione might weigh in with a different assessment, but then she wasn't asked.) It's hard to say where it all started. It can be said for certain that on the day in question Harry had once again exchanged hexes with Draco, things had escalated, Ron poured on the mockery most viciously and publicly, the three had been separated by the new DADA instructor, Professor Taylor, but left the confrontation frothing at the mouth, clamouring for more. Severus had been called to a Death Eater congregation, the Slytherins were left largely to their own devices for the evening, and knew it, and young Malfoy had set out in the foulest of moods to roam the castle.

It did not bode well.

Perhaps the root can most precisely be found in the injudicious handling of Harry's attack on Draco the previous year. An assault that left the blond wizard dangerously close to bleeding out ignominiously on the floor of a lavatory, and resulted in essentially no consequences for Potter and a muzzle for Malfoy. While that latter isn't entirely unwelcome, generally speaking, case specific it left the victim of a particularly brutal attack feeling victimised yet again, and that of all things by the people in authority whom he should have been able to trust to protect him, and certainly to seek justice and avenge him. This provided an unfortunate lesson that some animals are more equal than others. Aren't they just?

Harry could have thought twice about using an unknown spell on an adversary. He didn't. He could have been more apologetic or considerate after the fact. He wasn't. Dumbledore could have punished him suitably for it. Or at all, really. Albus could have shown some understanding or compassion for the victim of such a brutal and traumatising attack instead of sentencing Draco to silence and virtually guaranteeing that his issues would foment ill will. But why should Albus change the tactics that had served him so well in the past? Because it worked out so well the last time?

Indeed.

That the youngest Weasley son had all the subtlety of a Muggle neon sign was also no secret. Coupled with an equally glaring lack of tact and empathy, the dolt had thought it fitting to have his sister charm his hair white-blond and then donned shredded and bloodied robes, transfigured Slytherin green, for his costume for the Halloween Ball the week before. If the costume provided any potentially interested witches with a peek at his Quidditch trained pecs or abs, all the better. In case anyone was unsure whom he was trying to depict, he made sure to have charmed a sign to float, flashing ostentatiously, above his head all night proclaiming "Malfoy" for the stunningly thick, of which there were more than a few in his house alone.

Ron could also have listened to Hermione when she told him it was in dreadful taste and absolutely inappropriate. Even Harry had the decency to admit it wasn't quite right, with some semblance of shame for his act. Ultimately Harry agreed: what happened wasn't funny.

"If it hadn't been for Snape..." Harry had tried.
"Professor Snape." Hermione corrected, pedantically, automatically.
"The greasy git," Ron disagreed.
"Then Harry could have killed someone," she gritted.
"Sure, but it was only Malfoy. So that's hardly a bad thing, now is it?"
"Fine," Harry answered, giving up ever convincing Ron as a bad job, "but then I'd be rotting in Azkaban. Would that be any better?"

But instead Ron just made a few scathing remarks about Hermione's glaring lack of humour and blithely carried on, undeterred...

Minerva naturally could have stepped in at any time and sent him back to the Gryffindor tower. But once again she turned a blind eye to the antics of her little lions. Boys will be boys, after all. This broke no rules, what harm was there in a little fun? Severus shouldn't have been surprised, she'd done it often enough in the past. Or perhaps she never really understood how serious the infractions were which her tacit support enabled, or the very real damage they caused. Either way, she had form. Decades of it.

And even then it might not have been all that bad except for a very public 'show' number that Weasley put in. There he was, writhing on the dance floor, literally, to some frankly wretched piece, Weird Sisters be damned, in a pool of fake blood making Sonoroused 'boohoo' noises which echoed as though tannoyed through the room and rubbing ridiculously oversized (and glowing) fake tears from his eyes, product courtesy of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, cheers. That was clearly the point where things thoroughly left the rails.

How anyone thought that egregious taunt would go unanswered remains a mystery.

---

And so this Friday evening, a week after Halloween, finds Hermione trying to study, not unusually. After all, there are only seven more months until N.E.W.T.s. The common room, also not unusually, especially of a Friday night, was far too loud for this task. She retreats to her bedroom, only to discover that her roommates Fay and Georgina have invited some friends over and made her own room an even less tolerable alternative. They're conducting a rather boisterous girl talk session, interspersed with Quidditch stats, strangely enough, and some debate as to whether the use of thestrals or hippogriffs in place of brooms would improve the game, Georgina makes a rather convincing case for a Pegasus, and Hermione couldn't possibly get any peace there either.

Annoyed, she returns to the common room and tries to make use of the study niche, only to have a bunch of fifth, sixth and seventh years approach her, asking her rather pointedly to take it elsewhere - they want the relative privacy of the space to... socialise. When she, somewhat pedantically, points out that the niche is for studying, as the name clearly suggests, and she wishes to use it for just this express purpose, a few of her housemates may call her uptight. Boring. An obstructionistic swot. Only they use unflattering synonyms, because "obstructionistic" has too many syllables, and they are... unkind. Lavender's voice is perhaps the loudest among them, unsurprisingly, but Parvati's can't be overheard either. It's a Friday evening and Hermione apparently has nothing better to do than study, when it comes right down to it. Swot.

It's nothing she hasn't heard before. Of course that doesn't make it any less painful.

Summarily, she's sent packing to the library.

More than a little disgruntled, she bows to the pressure of her peers, gathers her things and, even more annoyed than before, makes her lonely way through the castle towards the library.

It wouldn't have been so bad, simply yet another case of hurt feelings and nothing more, had she not had the misfortune of encountering Malfoy on the way.

---

Barely an hour later, Professor Snape is returning from a particularly brutal Cruciatus session. The Death Eater meetings are becoming... worse, if at all possible; the pressure to join in the general... devolving is increasing. He's so had it with absolutely everything.

Not that anyone cares.

He has just dragged himself into the castle when the Bloody Baron, his chains flying behind him, comes rushing to get Severus and demands that he follow the ghost in the direction of the library. Immediately.

A student has been attacked.