9. A devious plan
They landed in a room in the Department of Mysteries, which was so crowded with books and scrolls that it was a miracle that all three of them could fit into it.
There were no places for plants or ugly tablecloths here; every surface of every desk, windowsill and chair was dedicated to work. The room was quite large, but the clutter, along with the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves made it confined and stuffy, and though Potter's side-along apparation was as smooth as humanly possible, their arrival sent loose paper flying in every direction.
Severus jumped, upsetting a tall stack of books, when he turned around to see a corkboard on the wall, which held two life-size pictures of the Dark Mark.
From the numerous muggle pencils and ballpoint pens on the desk, which all sported frayed ends with bite marks, he had already deduced that this room was Hermione's office.
Slowly, he turned to face her, the sense of foreboding in his gut mixing with an odd feeling of betrayal.
"We will explain everything," she said quickly, looking at Harry with some apprehension. It occurred to him then, that she, like all Unspeakables, was sworn to silence.
"Sit, Snape," Potter continued, "please. This may take some time but I must implore you to hear us out till the end," he rubbed a hand over his forehead, "regardless of your feelings on the matter. It is of importance to you, personally."
If he was nervous before, Potter's words had the opposite effect of soothing him. But he did as he was told, pulling a pile of scrolls into his lap to free up space on a chair by the door. Potter transfigured a surprisingly uncomfortable-looking bench, and then flicked his wand again, impatiently, turning it into two squashy armchairs. Hermione sat down in the one closest to him, folding her hands tightly in her lap.
"Now, Snape," Potter said, crossing one leg over the other, "you know already that the Vigilantes wants to throw the government. And though our view is not far from theirs, we feel keenly the danger of exposing the wizarding world too quickly."
"We must try to eradicate the prejudice against muggles first," interjected Hermione, "but also make sure that fear and distrust in both words are kept to a minimum. We already know where misconceptions and feelings of superiority might lead."
Severus nodded. He understood the sentiments, could even agree upon them to a certain extent, though the idea of exposure in itself was foreign.
Potter got up, seemingly with a desire to pace the office. However, the two large chairs were occupying the lion's share of the floor, and the shortage of space prevented him. Dissatisfied, he sat back down. "Now here's what the media won't tell you," he said, gesturing with his hands instead, "and it's why this case lies with us, and not with the Aurors. Even Minister Mair doesn't know the full extent of it."
Potter pointed at the corkboard, and Severus turned his head, discerning that one of the Dark Marks pinned in place, was in fact not a Dark Mark at all.
"For some time now, Hermione has researched Voldemort's Dark Mark. You see, the Vigilantes also carry magical brands."
Severus twitched slightly, involuntarily touching his left forearm.
"You said some days ago that the one who attacked you was branded?" asked Hermione.
"I thought so…," said Severus, eyes still on the two pictures on the wall. One was the Dark Lord's familiar skull and snake, the other, though similar in size, was merely a shapeless blob of ink.
"He was," said Potter, "I saw it for myself when I disposed of the body. Now Snape, listen. Hermione is our expert on spells and charms, and her specialities are the magics that bind and enslave."
Severus turned towards her sharply. Never had he thought that the compassionate and righteous Hermione would spend her career on such atrocities.
Potter apparently saw his mind. "She got here from researching the compelling magic that binds house-elves," he explained. "Though it's a bit of a leap, the mechanics of all such spells have proven to be quite similar." He nodded in Hermione's direction. "But I think it might be best that she explain it herself."
"Yes," she looked at Severus intently, bushy hair on end around her head, like a jagged halo. "We've found a way to stop the Vigilantes, Severus. We can use their brands against them; I only need to do some tests on your Dark Mark, just to make sure that my theory is sound."
Severus' eyes widened. "You want to use me as your guinea pig?"
"Nothing of the sort," said Potter forcefully. "We only ask permission to cast a few diagnostic spells, so that we can be certain that our plan of attack will work."
The emphasis that this was a polite request only served as a reminder that he was as bound to Potter's whims in this matter, as any house-elf to its owner.
"Is that all, Master?" He said icily.
"Listen, please," said Hermione urgently, "there's more. For one, I think they are using similar magic to that which Voldemort used to create the Dark Mark."
Severus frowned. "How can you be sure?"
Hermione blushed. "Because I've studied their mark once, on a convict... and because I think that in part, they got the idea from me."
A bark of laughter escaped him, despite the Hermione's apparent remorse. She blushed even harder.
"I don't know if you remember," she said, "but in school, the year Umbridge was Headmaster,-" Severus snorted irritably.
"That year," she continued, "we had this secret defence group," her lip quirked slightly, as she lost herself in remembrance, "it was a protest movement really; the curriculum that year was horrendous, never mind the textbook. It was-"
"The point is," interrupted Potter, throwing off the impending lecture, "that Hermione used the protean charm to alert the DA members of the time and place of our meetings. Knowing that Dennis Creevey is both a former member of the DA, and the head Vigilante, it seems reasonable to that this is where he got the idea."
"And where did you get the idea?" Severus couldn't resist baiting her.
"The Death Eaters of course." Hermione was once again serious. "Now, this is not common knowledge, but the Dark Mark is also made from a protean charm. It's human adapted, so that it allows both the master object, and the clones to be attached to a person. Voldemort though, added to this a binding spell, which allowed him some control over his followers. He was able to give you pain through the mark, yes?"
Severus looked down on his left arm. "Yes."
"This is because Voldemort used his own sigil, the morsmordre, as part of the object that linked the Death Eaters to him." Hermione pointed at him. "When directed at a living being, the morsmordre is an invasive curse. Its purpose is to control and infect the magic of those who wear it. It enslaves, but also seeks to spread out. I'm pretty certain this is why you've had trouble accessing your magic since his death."
So they really were cursed by the Dark Lord? Just not in the way that he'd imagined. The rush of blood in Severus' ears nearly deafened him against Potter's next words.
"Now the vigilante's marks are simpler," Potter continued. "They don't have a lord, and are not magically bound. But they do use the protean charm to get in touch with each other. Our idea is to try to infect their master object. That way, we can gain some control over them, and can arrest them all in one swift stroke."
"I need to study your mark to be sure," said Hermione, "but if the morsmordre is made part of the Vigilante's master object, I believe it will spread on its own, passing to all of the linked objects, and binding them, much like the Death Eaters."
Their plan was downright devious. Severus understood now, why the Minister of Magic was kept in the dark. "You'll need to find the master object first."
"We think we already have it," said Potter. "It's Dennis Creevey's mark."
"You intend to cast morsmordre on Creevey?" Severus was shaken. There were no love lost between him and the terrorists who had tried to kill him, yet cursing a young man with the Dark Lord's magic seemed downright ghastly.
"If you do, won't that only give him control over his own comrades? Are you going to threaten him at wand point into summoning them?"
"You're exactly right." Potter said. He was standing up now, his hair spiking in all directions. "It will be illegal to cast morsmordre, and it can't be done on Creevey. But Hermione has created a variety of the Appellation spell. With this, we think we can transfer the master object to a new location."
Were these two insane? "To counter the original protean charm would take extraordinary power," said Severus. "And in any case, if you use morsmordre, you are going to target all of the old Death Eaters as well. I'm certainly not going to help you."
Potter's waved his arms up and down in exasperation. "I already told you, Snape, I don't need you to do any magic!"
"Harry can do it," interrupted Hermione. "We've already done test transfers on coins."
"Coins," said Severus flatly.
"Yes." Potter said. "We hope that by transferring the master object onto your Dark Mark, Voldemort's sigil will infect and command the Vigilantes. It will link them to you, and then, we can lure them into a trap and-"
"My Dark Mark?" Severus was horrified. "You'll make me into their dark lord!"
"Not you." Potter stood tall. "And not dark." He pointed at his own chest. "Me. Through your mark. That is why I needed you to pledge your service."
Numbly, Severus stood up from his chair, scattering scrolls and loose paper onto the floor, and left the office. He barely heard Hermione's softly spoken "Let him go, Harry," before the door closed behind him. As with a will of their own, his feet brought him to the elevators leading to the Atrium. From there, he exited through the visitor's entrance, not wasting as much as a single glance towards the receptionist.
He could understand now, why this mission had to be kept quiet, and why it resided with the Unspeakables rather than with the Aurors. Never had he imagined that Hermione could be this ruthless, and if word of this got out, Potter's fall from grace would be hard. He knew not whether the boy was incredibly brave or incredibly foolish, but he knew for certain that he wanted no part of it.
He walked all the way, reaching Euston just in time for the five o'clock to Manchester, and he did not think it was unforgiveable, that it cost him an imperio, or two, to make sure that he was left alone for the time that it took before the train reached its destination.