Roll Out the Red Carpet, Barricade the Door (джен)

Severus is still choking on the air being repelled from his lungs when the first attempt slams against his skull. This attempt isn't like theirs. It isn't the stinging, burrowing, bamboo-shoots-under-the-nail like crawling of his Lord's magic. Not Voldemort's slow and torturous magic, polluting his mind with burning pains as he digs deeper inside, unrelenting. Nor is it the powerful, crushing, passionate rush of Dumbledore flooding him. His mentor and warden's grand magic, trying to shatter his shields until they were impenetrable. No, this attempt comes at him like a dart throw. It sails at him like a whisp through the air, hitting his shields with the force of a feathered pin-point. Leaving only a small hole in the surface of his mental fortitude. The magic is insistent, but all too gentle compared to what he's known.
(Severus Snape whump at the ministry. Written because I was always confused why the Order didn't jump Snape sooner. Please excuse my use of Magical Macguffins :/ )