Disclaimer: I don't own the "Harry Potter" book series. The story of "Harry Potter" is the property of J.K. Rowling, it is not my intellectual property. There is no financial gain made from this nor will any be sought. This is for entertainment purposes only.
Background: This story takes place in the summer after the trio's seventh year, at the height of the war. In this AU, Voldemort has not been defeated yet which means that Harry, Hermione and Ron never dropped out of school to hunt for horcruxes and therefore graduated on time. They (as well as most of the other Order members) now permanently live at Grimmauld Place, which acts as the base of the resistance against the dark side. The Battle of Hogwarts never happened, Dumbledore is still alive, and Snape is also still working as a double agent.
If you have the time, please do not forget to leave me a review - I'd greately appreciate it! This is going to be a shorter story (most likely only three chapters or so), but I do hope that you will enjoy it nevertheless :-)
Chapter 1: Desperation
"Before I reveal the reason for why I was forced to call this sudden meeting, I need everybody to take the oath. Nothing that is said here tonight can ever leave this room."
The unusual sombreness in Dumbledore's voice caused an audible murmur to go through the fairly sizeable crowd gathered around the table in the dimly lit kitchen of 12 Grimmauld Place. Nervous chatter filled the air as Hermione, Harry and Ron shot each other curious glances – it appeared as though their third meeting as official Order members was certainly going to be interesting.
"Ze oath?" Fleur questioned in her sing-song voice. "But we already took eet upon entering ze Order!"
"I am well aware of that," said Dumbledore with a sigh. "But believe me when I say that this delicate situation warrants additional precautions to be taken. It is of the utmost importance that no one outside of the Order ever hears about this. In fact, if it weren't such a dire and time-sensitive matter, I would not be bringing it up with any of you at all."
Anxious mumblings went around the room as one by one, the members of the Order of the Phoenix pulled out their wands and vowed themselves to silence. It was only once the last person had been sworn to secrecy that the ancient wizard spoke up again.
"All right, Alastor," muttered Dumbledore, wearily rubbing his temples. "Bring him in."
All heads turned as the heavy door leading to the basement kitchen was suddenly thrown open rather forcefully, revealing two tall figures. One was that of scar-faced Mad-Eye Moody, his electric blue magical eye spinning around in its socket at rapid speed as he surveyed the room suspiciously. His left hand had a firm grip on the shoulder of a black-clad Severus Snape whose usually so snide facial expression was partially hidden behind a blindfold made of dark purple silk. There was a momentary dramatic pause, until – his claw-footed wooden leg audibly dragging across the floor – Moody forcibly guided the other man towards the empty chair at the head of the table as the stunned silence of all those present finally gave to hushed whispers.
"Severus?" McGonagall ultimately asked in clear disbelief once the spy had been rather ungainly seated by courtesy of a rough push. "What is going on? What is the meaning of this?"
Though he certainly must have felt the intense stares of all of their eyes practically burning into him, Snape's lips stayed sewn shut. Slightly bend forward, his long, dark hair obscured most of his grim-looking face.
Sighing yet again, Dumbledore rose from his seat at the other end of the table.
"Earlier tonight, an unfortunate incident occurred at Malfoy Manor during which Severus inadvertently came into contact with a dark magic artifact," he said, clasping his bony hands in front of him. "More specifically, we are talking about a dangerous, long-forgotten weapon which a group of Death Eaters originally created during the height of the First Wizarding War and which would have had disastrous consequences for thousands of people had it been used. Thankfully, Voldemort fell before they had the opportunity to do so."
"Dark magic?" Remus frowned. "Are you saying he's cursed?"
"Yes." A barely stifled gasp could be heard coming from Arabella Figg, and Dumbledore gave her a sympathetic look before proceeding to say, "Luckily, Severus was able to immediately destroy the object before anyone else arrived at the scene. As its creators are long dead, this means that we won't have to fear it in the future at least. However, the curse still had enough time to take effect. I have spent the last few hours trying to break it somehow, but all of my efforts sadly proved unsuccessful."
Starting to slowly pace up and down, he continued, "The problem is that time is running out. There is an important Death Eater gathering set to take place tomorrow night, and it is crucial that the curse be lifted before then. Under no circumstances would it be possible for Severus to attend while still being under the influence of said artifact. Therefore, despite how much it pains me to do so, I see no other choice than to implore one of you to help."
"Well, I could certainly give it a try if you'd like," offered Gringotts' very own Bill Weasley.
Giving him a tired smile, Dumbledore told him, "I'm afraid that the situation is a lot more complex than simply finding the correct counter-curse."
"What do you mean, Albus?" said Dedalus Diggle queryingly.
"And what's with the blindfold anyway?" a green-haired Tonks butted in.
"It's old pure-blood magic," Moody suddenly declared in his growling voice, causing everybody to look at him. He was still standing right next to Snape, almost as though he was afraid the younger wizard would all of a sudden attempt to make a run for it. "So old that its true origin is no longer known. A type of magic that hasn't been used in generations. Coming up with the correct spell could take months, if not years. We don't have enough time for that."
Kingsley Shacklebolt tapped his foot in frustration. "Then how are we supposed to break it?"
"We cannot lift the curse, so we need to let it unfold!" Hermione blurted out before she could stop herself, blushing slightly in embarrassment when everyone shifted in their seats to stare at her.
"That's right, Miss Granger." Dumbledore nodded in agreement, unsurprised by her quick wit. "I'm sad to say that this is the only solution left."
"That's preposterous!" exclaimed Sturgis Podmore. "You said that it's dangerous! Are you suggesting that one of us has to sacrifice themselves?"
"To be clear, I am not asking anyone to give their life," the Hogwarts headmaster hastily clarified. "It's not a deadly curse."
"Then what is it?" pressed Harry, obviously growing more and more impatient with his mentor's vagueness.
"We are talking about a sacrifice of a different nature. It's –" Dumbledore took off his glasses and blinked heavily. "It's a very specific type of dark magic."
"Albus, if I may?" Moody interjected, clearly sensing how much the older man was struggling for words. He got a relieved smile in response.
"Yes. Go ahead, please."
Stepping forward, the grizzly-haired former Auror eyed his fellow witches and wizards coldly. "Then and now, Voldemort and his followers had one prime objective: to indefinitely remove Muggle-borns from the face of the wizarding world so that pure-blooded magic folk may rise again. Their secret weapon, which Snape so foolishly decided to handle, had one simple, yet devastating effect. Intended to be planted on unsuspecting Muggle-born wizards, it would immediately drive them insane at first touch – to the point where the Ministry would have no other choice than to admit they were a danger to society and thus needed to be permanently removed as a whole."
"Insane?" George cut in with a gulp, throwing a cautious glance at Snape. "He doesn't look insane to me."
"At least not more than usual," added his twin brother in a fairly incongruous cheeky manner.
Despite the obvious taunt, the Potions professor said nothing. Though beneath the table, out of anyone's sight, his hands balled into fists.
Moody continued, "That's because he's wearing a blindfold. Were he to take it off right now, all chaos would break loose in here. The curse is only fully activated once the affected wizard lays eyes on a woman."
"A woman?" said McGonagall with a pale face, suddenly looking as though she was about to vomit. "You don't mean to imply …"
"A sex curse. Designed to make you go mad and have you fall victim to your most primal need; forcing you to violently ravish the first female you see until you reach release."
A sudden coldness filled the room as no one dared to speak, completely blindsided by this revelation. Staring at each other with big eyes and open mouths, the members of the Order were thunderstruck.
It was Hermione who raised her voice first. Barely above a whisper, she hesitantly asked, "So what you are saying is that they were willing to let their wives, their daughters and their mothers be sexually abused and traumatised for life … just so that they'd have an excuse to kill off Muggle-borns?"
"In their eyes, it would have been but a small price to pay for absolute domination," Dumbledore responded quietly. "However, I do not doubt for a second that most would have hidden their family members away safely behind closed doors while the world outside descended into complete pandemonium. It is my belief that their primary targets were half-blooded women and known Muggle sympathizers."
"Albus," interposed Mr Weasley, the normally so jolly patriarch. "Please don't tell me you're asking one of our female members to, to –" His voice faltered. He could not even bring himself to say it aloud.
"Alas, what other option do we have? It is vital to the cause that Severus attend the meeting. And by no means could we in good conscience simply set him on an unsuspecting victim."
"Well, why can't he just keep the bloody blindfold on?" Ron exclaimed.
"Language, Ron!" chided his mother, though her words lacked the usual might.
For the first time that evening, it was Snape who spoke up, and most jumped at his deep voice echoing off the walls, having almost forgotten about his presence.
"Should the Dark Lord realise that I have failed to take care of this … issue, I will undoubtedly be either tortured terribly – which would risk me losing control to the point of not being able to keep up the walls in my mind and therefore exposing the Order's secrets – or I will simply be executed straightaway, which would mean losing the only direct intel we have. Rape is unfortunately an everyday occurrence for a Death Eater. My unwillingness to commit such a heinous act would not be taken kindly. It's truly been a … mere coincidence that I have been able to avoid taking part in such atrocities thus far," he explained coolly, his voice eerily void of any emotion.
Following a brief moment of what could only be described as stupefied horror, loud chatter erupted from all sides. Small groups of people were heatedly arguing with each other, their voices getting louder and louder, until –
"I'll do it."
Hermione's sudden declaration was almost too faint to be heard, but it nevertheless had enough of an impact to bring everybody to an abrupt halt. Almost two dozen faces turned to her in shock, and for just a second, the kitchen was so quiet that one would have been able to hear a pin drop – and then the room exploded.
"What?!" someone exclaimed.
"No!" shouted another.
"OVER MY DEAD BODY!" Mrs Weasley roared, unleashing the full fury of her inner mama bear.
"Well, realistically, what alternative is there?" the young witch contended, her chin raised high in defiance. "Of the seven women here, four are married. And I don't see any of the other single ones putting themselves forward. In any case, I know that I would prefer an ex-student over a colleague I'll have for many years to come if I was in Professor Snape's shoes."
It was like her pointed remark had temporarily sucked the air out of the room again. Especially Minerva McGonagall and Hestia Jones – the only two other unwed women in attendance – had sheepish expressions on their faces.
Taking a deep breath, Hermione continued. "If this is really the only means to break the curse, then I am willing to do it. There is no way that we can just send Professor Snape out on the streets to ravage the first person he sees. What if it ends up being a defenceless grandmother … or, Merlin forbid, a little girl?"
Her words led to another moment of uncomfortable silence.
"It's undoubtedly very noble of you to volunteer," Mr Weasley finally said in a soft voice, breaking the almost painful taciturnity. "But it's not your place to offer such a thing, dear."
She regarded him with great sadness in her eyes.
"Would you rather your wife or your daughter do it then?" she asked, and he simply looked at her aghast. For an excruciatingly long second, it seemed as though he was desperately searching for something – anything – to say in reply, but ultimately, he had to resign himself to remaining mum. The rest of the Order members merely looked at each other completely dumbfounded, clearly also not knowing what to say.
"This is ridiculous!" Harry yelled indignantly, practically exploding out of his chair. "Hermione, you cannot be serious! It's Snape we're talking about here!"
"Harry, I think that having relations with a former teacher is one of the least traumatic things I'll be forced to experience during this war." Silence – they both knew she was right. "Professor Snape has done so much for us, for the entire wizarding world. This is the least I can do – for him and for the Order."
"Still, I don't think –"
"Don't. Please … just don't. I'm sure that you would gladly take my place if the roles were reversed," she interrupted him, a strange countenance of bitterness on her face.
"I won't allow this!" Ron chimed in irately, his cheeks mottled crimson. "This is the stupidest idea you've ever had! What if he knocks you up or something?"
"Allow it? You won't allow it?! What in the world gives you the idea that you have any right to determine what I do with my body?" Hermione hissed through her teeth, her voice dangerously low. The furious look behind her gaze was enough to make him visibly shrink in his seat. "And while it is most definitely none of your goddamn business, I can confidently tell you that pregnancy certainly won't be of concern."
The youngest Weasley boy looked at her like she had just grown a second head right there in front of him. "How would you even know that?"
"I regularly take contraceptive potions," she put it simply.
"What? Why? Why would you need that? Who are you shagging behind my back?!"
"I'm shagging no one behind your back, because we aren't even together – get that through your thick head already!" she retorted angrily, snapping right back at him. "Also, Ronald, birth control is not only used to prevent pregnancy. It also regulates your cycle and keeps your hormone levels at bay, among other things. But, of course, a pinhead like you wouldn't know that!"
The redhead noticeably squirmed at the mention of periods, and Hermione had to suppress the overwhelming urge to slap him. Her lips a thin line, she addressed the crowd.
"We all know that I'm the only viable option – either I do it or he dies." Her voice sounded strained. "Besides, this is truly not something to be discussed with any of you here. If anything, this is between Professor Snape and I."
Turning towards the Potions Master, she addressed him directly. "I'll be in my bedroom on the first floor, sir. You're welcome to stop by if you so wish so that we can talk about this … predicament in private."
And with that, she stood up and left.