This HG/SS story is a little more dramatic than 'lost in muggle-land.' I wanted to try something different. Please review xx
Lucius got up and dressed himself. Hermione lay on the floor in front of him, her very soul destroyed. She was shaking with fear and the soreness was agony.
Her voice quivered as she asked him, "why don't you just kill me now?"
"You're no use to us dead," he responded.
Hermione was surrounded by death-eaters in the shrieking shack. Her clothes had been ripped to shreds and she was humiliated. It seemed their latest plan involved her in a ploy to get Harry; something she refused to do. They did not take this refusal well.
Hermione was about to get up when Bellatrix roughly pinned her back onto the floor again. Hermione gasped as she felt a wand at her throat.
"You keep quiet, filthy mudblood! Do you think this is suffering?…this is nothing! So keep it shut. Understand?"
Hermione sobbed and turned her head to the side, facing away from her. It was then that she saw a dark figure in the doorway. He had dark hair and was looking at her intensely with black eyes. His intensity did not so much appear evil as it did mortified. As soon as she could reconcile who it was, he hurried away after catching her glance.
Bellatrix grabbed Hermione by the back of her neck and pulled her up, throwing her coat at her. "This is not over! You rethink our proposal. If you do not soon conform, we will be coming for you!"
Bellatrix threw her out of the front door and Hermione fell onto the grass. The night air froze her and she put on her coat. She then proceeded to make her way back to Hogwarts.
O
It was half one in the morning and Hermione was alone in the shower room. She turned the shower on and avidly washed herself with some soap. She started to sob loudly as she felt so dirty. She slid down and buried her head in her hands. With frustration, she started to scratch herself across the ribs with her nails until she drew blood. The pain felt relieving somehow, like a distraction…
O
There was noise all around Hermione as she sat down for breakfast the next day, but she hardly noticed a thing. She was in her own world. She tried to numb herself the best she could, but found it hard to block out the fear that any minute the death-eaters will be coming back to get her.
She looked down at her food and hardly had the stomach to touch it. She still felt physically sick after what Lucius did to her last night.
She idly glanced around the room and noticed black eyes watching her. Snape was sat at the staff table peering over at her. His eyes looked down as soon as he noticed her looking at him back.
Why he had not approached her after seeing what had happened last night was beyond her. He really must be the evil old git she always thought he was.
She wondered what he was doing there last night. He could not have been coming to save her, because he did not. Surely he couldn't be one of them?
Hermione suddenly read between the lines and realised it could be very possible he was a death-eater. As it was life-threatening for her to tell anyone else that the death-eaters had targeted her, this man may be her only hope of salvation.
As soon as breakfast was over she saw Snape get up and start to leave. She got up also and hurried after him, dodging the students who were getting in the way. When she reached the corridor, he must have sensed her presence as he rushed off at such a pace that she could not keep up with him.
Hermione drew out a big sigh and bitterly murmured, "coward!"
She then felt a hand on her shoulder and let out a terrified gasp. She spun around and saw a very miffed Harry.
"What's the matter?" He asked, confused.
"Nothing," Hermione quickly said.
"You barely said a word during breakfast. You didn't eat and then you buggered off!"
"I'm in a funny mood today. Just ignore me."
Harry looked at her intently. "Hermione, we're friends. Good friends. We've been through so much together. If there is something going on, you should tell me."
Hermione felt a pang of sorrow. She knew she could not tell him. In fact, it was best she stayed away from him. It was surely safer for Harry if she had no information to give the death-eaters: no matter how much they tortured her. "Harry…I need some space."
"We're best friends, Hermione…"
"Well I'm sick of it!"
Harry looked stunned, like she had just hit him in the face. "What has got into you?"
"YOU! I'm fed up with everything to do with you. The celebrity boy-who-lived. Who cares! I always do all the work and you take all the credit. Just stay away from me!" Hermione exploded.
The corridor fell silent around them and she could feel a few students watching her with disbelief.
Harry took a deep breath and spoke with sadness in his voice. "That's hurtful rubbish you just said. You meant so much to me as a friend and I hate to find out that you never saw that. I've never felt so betrayed…so just stay away from me too."
Harry turned his back and left her. Hermione started to shake with upset as she watched him go and she whispered, "I'm sorry."
O
Hermione was afraid to go to her room that night, for the death-eaters knew where she slept. She locked herself in a bathroom cubicle, sat on the floor and hugged herself tight. Harry had told Ron what she said and he too did not want anything to do with her. Snape was clearly refusing to acknowledge her. She felt completely on her own. She was petrified in her situation and there was just nobody there to help her. All she could do what cut herself, hoping this would make her as unattractive that no-one would want to touch her again. Bizarrely, the pain was her only relief.
She looked down at the bloody razor she had in her right hand and the bloody red scars across her left wrist.
O
Hermione walked into her potions class the next day. She saw a free space by Harry, but she did not dare sit next to him, judging by the cold look on his face when he saw her. She instead found a place next to Neville.
Snape came rushing into the class in his dramatic fashion with his robes flowing behind him. He reached the front and started the session. He seemed very careful throughout not to look at Hermione again, who was still curiously watching him.
He only looked at her when he set the class a potion to make. As she was stirring the cauldron he caught a glimpse of her arm. His eyes widened as he saw the tips of red gashes peering from her sleeve. He breathed a shuddered sigh, knowing there was nothing he could do to ease her pain. He hoped she had not seen him that night, yet by the way she was looking at him, he had a feeling he was spotted by her. The best he could do was keep quiet and hope she did the same. Yet the scars showed she was already at breaking point. The death-eaters wanted to break her in order for her to weaken and do what they told her to. Unfortunately, it seemed to be working.
Hermione looked at the professor once more. Deep within her, she was disgusted at by the prospect that Snape could have anything to do with the death-eaters. Yet, if he was, he would be the one to know when they would be coming for her. Hermione felt she did not want to live, but she hated to be the victim. If she had any chance of survival, she would have to ask him for help.
The class ended and the students started to leave. Hermione waited for the room to empty and approached Snape's desk. His face was looking down at an essay he was marking. It almost seemed as though he was pretending she was not there.
She took a deep breath. "Professor?"
Without looking up, he responded, "What do you want, Miss. Granger?"
"Well, this isn't easy…Were you there that night in the shrieking shack?"
Snape looked up, slightly panicked.
"Do you know what I'm talking about? Did you see what they did to me. What he…did to me?" Hermione asked, he voice shaking slightly.
"No…I mean who?" Snape tried his best to act casually.
Hermione started to feel frustrated. "I saw you there, Professor. Can't you make them stop? I know they have plans for me. I'm afraid! I just want to be left alone. I promise, I wont tell anyone about your involvement."
Snape looked at her, more concerned. "Can you really be sure you saw me?"
"Of course. I even think I'm sure enough to know you're one of them."
Snape started to get pensive. "One of what?"
"You're…you're a death-eater aren't you?"
Snape slammed his fist on the desk and Hermione jumped with fright.
"Who are you to say what I am? What are you?" Snape said menacingly.
He got up and approached her. "Maybe you shouldn't give them the pleasure of torturing you. Did anybody tell you no-one likes a know-it-all? You torture yourself even. Merlin, look at this!"
Snape grabbed Hermione's wrist, pulled up her sleeve and exposed her scars. "What kind of pathetic low-life does this to themselves?"
"Let go! You're hurting me!" Hermione whimpered.
"I'm only saving you the trouble. Stay out of my business or I'll cause you a lot more pain. And as for the scars, my job could be in trouble if I didn't report them. So expect a meeting with the headmaster and I'll alert your parents."
Hermione felt struck with horror. "No! Please don't. I don't want anyone to know."
"You should have thought about that before you became razor-happy. Now get the hell out of my sight!"
Snape aggressively let go of her arm with such a force that she stumbled into a table. Snape leant on his desk, taking a breather. He kept his back to her and his head down.
Mortified, Hermione wiped her face with her sleeve. "Foolish me, coming to you for help. You must fit right in with that scum! No-one likes you either, you know. Not because you're a know-it-all like me. It's because you're a bitter man with no heart. You drive everyone away and I think you're EVIL!"
Hermione fled from the classroom whilst Snape did not move a muscle. Her words were like bullets to him for they felt so painfully true, except when she said he had no heart. He had one, but for his own sake he had to keep it hidden.