The idea for this story came to me while I was showering, and like the best of shower ideas, I had to put it in action. Please be kind and love snarky irritable Snape as much as I do. I'll see you on the other side. (UPDATE: THIS CHAPTER WAS LAST EDITED ON JANUARY 31ST, 2014)

*Disclaimer: JKR is a genius. I just like to eat food*

Chapter 1-

Cold. Blazing. Piercing. Fire. Ice. Ripping. Ending, and then beginning. It was nothing. It was everything.

She gasped for breath; desperately seeking a coherent thought in the moment's pause that she had been given. Then, it started again, a slash of purple streaking through the air. It ripped and burned and suffocated.

Laughter. Shadows flickering around her, taunting and prodding.

Just let me die.

"May I start the bid?" A strong hand gripped her wrist and squeezed, surely leaving an imprint on pale flesh, "Such fine spirit this one has."

Dear God just let me die.

The figures gathered in closer, pinching taut skin and snickering at the feeble cries. They were vultures, feeding off of her fragility.

"10 Galleons," a figure drawled, followed by cries of glee.

"15!"

"20!"

"25!"

It went on in this manner, the room quivering with excitement. Hands groped and pulled, bruised and blemished. Their touches burned like hot iron, branding into her skin.

"50!"

"75!"

Hermione Granger pressed her cheek against the warm glass of the bay window, fingers smudged with ink as she reread the letter that she had composed that morning and tucked into her Arithmancy textbook. Frowning, she added a post script before sealing it in an envelope and passing it off to the tawny barn owl that she had summoned. Hermione took one last look at the streams of sunlight before pulling the curtains tightly shut, spiraling her bedroom into darkness.

Two weeks of America had treated her well. It had taken her days before persuading her parents that allowing her the summer to stay with a distant cousin would be good for her. She promised that she would study feverishly for her N.E.W.T.S. before she returned home to attend her 7th year at Hogwarts. Promised them that this would only aid her studies, and experience with the American magic system would look good on a resume. She didn't tell them that the paper that her mother had slipped her with her cousin's address neatly printed on it would never be read. She didn't tell them that she was going so that she could research horcruxes with fresh material and a fresh perspective. She didn't tell them that she planned on running away with Harry and Ron before term started and she certainly didn't tell them about the night that changed everything. The night when a limp figure tumbled from the sky and dark eyes vanished into the night.

Dumbledore was gone. The realization pained her chest with a sense of desperation. Hermione flicked her wand and the window cracked open, mid-June air teasing her senses from underneath the dollar store shades. How easy it would be to never return to the chaos that had become her life. How easy to merely forget, to start over in a less harsh world. She was 17 after all; she could do as she pleased. There were times that she grew tired of flipping pages of magical text each night to only come to the same blanks. A horcrux could be anything. Yet, it couldn't be nothing. It had to be significant, had to be special. Her lists dragged on, but her list of potential horcruxes became shorter. Voldemort would want something important, something with meaning. How could you tell what pleased the Dark Lord when he himself loved nothing?

Two weeks had passed and the answers that she had found only led to more questions. In her purse was a boarding pass to a plane that would send her home tonight. Her mother had argued against any form of magic reliance to take her across the ocean, afraid that Hermione would misjudge the distance. She chuckled to herself at the idea of ending up in the middle of a coral reef surrounded by clown fish, with seahorses swimming through her spilled luggage.

Hermione fretted around her bedroom, shrinking books and scraps of paper, shoving them into her purse. Other things she destroyed with the flick of a wand, until no trace of her presence was left in the room. With a quick turn, even the young woman herself was gone from the room.

The plane ride had lasted far too long and her legs were stiff from sitting for so many hours. She had occupied herself by translating some spells out of her Ancient Runes textbook, reveling in the familiarity of the experience, hands itching to test some of them herself. Hermione went over the list created in her mind, which she had titled "Things to Tell Harry." However, her list of things not to tell Harry was much larger and much more worrisome. A horcrux can be anything. Voldemort could be divided into anything. It'll take several more months to figure it out. By that point it might be too late.

The airport was crowded with Muggles, pushing and squawking and checking their baggage. Hermione twisted around, seeking the comfort of her parents' faces, yet she couldn't pick them out of the crowd. Had they not received her letter? Perhaps the owl hadn't reached them quickly enough and they weren't expecting her. Ducking her way out of the crowd, Hermione clutched her purse and strolled out of the airport, looking around for a quiet place to apparate from.

Had the Muggles paid attention they would have noticed a young pretty woman walk out of the airport doors followed by a man shrouded in black. They would have seen him grab her roughly around the wrists and wrestle her into his grasp. They would have recalled the way she tried to scream but was quickly silenced. However, the young woman and her pursuer dissolved into the air before anyone noticed that she had been there at all.

"100 Galleons!" A voice cried from the darkness and Hermione lifted her chin to see a stout figure approach her and yank on her curls. Was it Crabbe? Goyle? Celebration erupted in the room and the figure smirked behind his mask, acknowledging his win.

Such a pretty toy. She will be fun. Until she breaks.

"1000 Galleons," A lithe man stepped forward calmly, black eyes coolly calculating the hand which had so fiercely claimed Hermione. Black eyes that brought an unbidden relief.

"You can't be serious," Crabbe/Goyle hissed, "She's mine."

"I believe, Goyle," the man smirked, "That I outbid you."

Murmurs of agreement filled the room and Hermione felt an icy band being secured around her neck. Her golden brown eyes were instantly drawn to swirls of ink that glared at her from behind his mask. The man reached into his cloak and pulled out a sack of gold, dropping it to the ground. She wanted to say something, to scream, to plead, and to tell him that no way in hell he would touch her. Yet it was his eyes that shut her up, those unfeeling eyes. They pulled her into their orbit, caught up in their gravity.

"Come girl," His arm shot out and clutched her around the waist, "Let us go." The room and its contents swirled before her eyes, blurs of shadows and shrieks. Goyle swore loudly and lunged towards them, but his hands groped at thin air. The apparition reminded Hermione of how weak she was, and she collapsed to the ground and vomited the small contents of her stomach. She was suddenly aware of strong arms scooping her up and carrying her, maybe for hours or a few mere seconds. Warmed sheets were drawn around her body, and the sound of clinking glass filled the room. Hermione fought hard to keep her eyes open long enough to recognize the lean figure that was rummaging through a collection of potions. She tried to speak, but her body instead shook around her, giving away her condition. The man spun around to face and she was instantly met with the infamous sneer of Severus Snape.

This chapter took far too long for me to write. I was thoroughly distracted by my cat who couldn't decide if he wanted to stay in my room or outside of it. For reference, according to the HP Lexicon the conversion of 1000 Galleons to US Dollars is 10070, to UK Pounds it is, 5000, and to the Euro it is 7380. Please review kindly!