I stared at the walls, my eyes dead. Their grip on my hair was relentless, dragging me down the hall. Dirt collected in my wounds, stinging me. But the pain no longer bothered me, I deserved it, I needed it. They didn't tell me where we were going, but I didn't care. As long as I got to die soon.

They opened a cell door, the hinges squeaking and screaming in protest. They dragged me forward and with one last hit, they sent me flying into the cell. I waited for impact with the wall, praying for death. But a person blocked my way and I slammed into them. I was lucky enough to hit the floor though and I welcomed the darkness with open arms.

My back ached from keeping itself straight. My legs burned from being crossed for so long. My head ached from the lack of sleep. My heart was heavy from the thoughts plaguing my head. My shoulders hurt from being tense for so long. In other words, everything ached.

I looked up and opened my eyes as the cell door swung open. I've been waiting for this, for my death. Really, I'm not sure why it took them so long. Maybe the Dark Lord was trying to get me back. Well, if that was the case I'm glad I'll be dying in a minute.

I saw them through something at me. The object was large yet somehow still small. I knew it was useless to dodge it so I stayed in my spot and waited for it to hit me. A moment later, it slammed into me and I lost my breath.

As soon as I regained my breath I pushed the thing off of me and I planned on pushing it out of mind. Unfortunately, it groaned and rolled away from me. I contemplated for a moment if I should see what it was or not. Another groan made my decision.

Many may believe me to just be a heartless ex-potion professor death eater. And to some degree, they're right. But now that I have no masters, I plan to at least attempt to make up for the things I did in this life before death.

My body protested as I shifted and moved to inch on my knees over to the body. It was hardly breathing and was malnourished. The clothes were dirty and ripped and I saw plenty of blood. I could see this even in the dim light coming into the small cell.

I flipped the body over, refusing to look at the face for a moment, and began taking off the clothes. It was quickly revealed to be a woman with a once beautiful body. I squinted my eyes and found the cleanest bit of cloth and spat on it. I carefully cleaned the wounds, trying to get rid of as much dirt as possible. I pulled off the outer robe I was allowed to keep and wrapped it around her small body.

I sat back and crossed my legs. Final decision, should I see who it is? It won't make much difference, but I probably should. I might as well know the face of the person I saved. I sighed and leaned over her body to peer at her face, my back protesting once more.

I sat up straight with a silent gasp as I recognized the face. Why was she here? What did she do? How could she have done something bad enough to be stuck in here, and with me no less? I took a deep breath and leaned back down to peer at her face.

Hermione Granger. Smartest witch of her age, possibly smarter than most witches and wizards older than herself. Best friend of one Harry Potter. A stickler for the rules yet manages to break all of them. Probably not a single bad bone in her body. Now, I ask again, what the HELL is she doing here in Azkaban?

I sighed and sat back to lean against the wall. I closed my eyes and waited for her to wake up and explain. I was confused and tired, and I knew that this girl shouldn't be here. My mind conjured up all theories as I drifted into a light sleep.

I sat up slowly, my arms shaking with the effort to support my weakened body. I was nearly all the way up when my arms gave out and I fell to the ground. Arms stopped my decent before gently lowering me. I lay there for a moment, my eyes closed, as I regained my breath.

I nearly gasped when I looked at the face above me. Ex-professor Severus Snape, my old potions master. But I held in the gasp. All though this was a surprise, I had been through enough to hide emotions and to not be surprised about these things anymore anyways. Besides, this was part of the mission Dumbledore wanted me to do.

We stared at each other for a few moments before I attempted getting up again. I hid my pain and weakness much better, but I still couldn't quite do it. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me against the wall with him, gently leaning me against his shoulder so that I wouldn't fall.

I carefully looked over to the girl beside me. She looked so young, though I knew her to be about twenty two years old. She was small and defenseless, it was impossible for there to be a logical reason that she was in here. It was merely a fluke, a mistake.

But as I waited for her to regain her breath, I doubted my thoughts. What if she really had done something? I knew how easily an intelligent person could hide their true selves, myself being one of them. But she couldn't hide that well. And besides, innocence is a nearly impossible emotion to replicate perfectly. And although it was broken and damaged, I could still see the innocence shining from her eyes. I shook my head slightly. I hadn't thought this much in the past four years. I looked back over as she began to speak.

"Hello professor. I would ask how you're doing, but seeing the environment, I can easily guess." She was interrupted by random bouts of coughing from either an over used or under used throat. I wasn't sure which was worse considering the war was still going on and a number of things could have happened. I didn't answer and waited for her to speak again. She seemed to understand quickly what I wanted.

"You're probably wondering why I'm here, huh?" I simply looked over to stare at her, rolling my head against the stony wall to do so. She gave a little bittersweet smile before going back to her previous dead and pained look. I'm not sure which I hated more. "Dumbledore's idea." my head snapped back over to her. My eyes were wide.

What was she talking about? I was suppose to be the only one who knew he was alive. It was the old mans idea not to tell anyone. It was his idea that making Potter angry and depressed would motivate him to kill the Dark Lord. So why was she talking about the reason she was here was because of Dumbledore? What was going on outside of this hell on Earth. My voice cracked slightly as I spoke.

"What are you talking about, Dumbledore's de-" She cut me off.

"No, he's not. He told me everything you two planned."

"Why?" She hesitated here. I was tempted to tell her it didn't matter and to go back to sleep, but this information needed to be dealt with now.

"He said that it would finish the war quicker if I understood everything and helped." I could see the pain in her face grow and her hesitance to continue had me concerned what the old man had forced her to do.

"What did he make you do?" I was growing more concerned the longer it took her to speak. She opened her mouth many times, about to speak, but stopping at the last moment. Instead, she finally lifted her arm and let the sleeve of my robe fall from her arm, revealing her left wrist.

I'm not sure how I missed it. It was large and covered nearly her entire forearm. Like my own pale skin, it stood out prominently, glaring at the world with its evil. The Dark Mark. The snake was lazily moving about, as it usually did when either the Dark Lord was upset or about to call a summons.

I looked back up into the girls face. She looked older with the dead look in her face, yet so much younger with all of the loss there. She was confused and scared, not knowing what she should do. Like myself when I first joined the Dark Lord. She was regretting doing it. But she probably didn't have a choice.

Sure, to anyone else it may have seemed that she didn't have to do it. But when Dumbledore 'convinced' you, you really didn't have any other option other than to do as he says. At least with the Dark Lord you knew what was going to happen if you disobeyed or failed. I cleared my throat and spoke to the frightened girl as if she were a wild animal, calmly and slowly.

"Miss Granger, while I perfectly understand what you must be feeling, why did you have to do it?" The look on her face would have made a lesser man shrink back in fear. But seeing as I was not a lesser man, I merely tensed my shoulders.

"No, you have no idea what I'm feeling! You were not coerced by an old man-whom you knew was controlling everyone and their lives, making unnecessary sacrifices-to join the Dark Lord! You have no idea what it's like to go through that and knowing the entire time he was right, knowing you had no other choice other than destroy your life and betray your friends!" I slowly let my mask fall from my face during her speech, allowing my emotions to show.

My head dropped, my chin resting on my chest. My lids lowered slightly to cover my eyes a little. I let every emotion-pain, depression, betrayal-show through. I was depressed with the choices I had made in life, regretting the things I had done, wishing I had done something different. My life was full of pain, no happiness. I didn't deserve anything in life, only pain. I had come to accept that, the pain increasing because of it.

I felt betrayed. That damn old man promised me that as long as I did what he said, no one would have to feel what I feel every day. But looking at this girl, I knew he had betrayed me. He promised me no one would feel this, that no one else would hate themselves, not wanting to look in the mirror and see the face looking at them.

"Please, why did he make you do it?" My voice sounded terrible, even in my own ears. It was hard to hear and it sounded as if I had been crying. I would have flinched, but I was far pass the point of caring. She waited for a few minutes before finally answering.

"He said that with the anger and sadness of my betrayal, Harry would be even more motivated to kill the Dark Lord. He said that Harry would be guaranteed to win the war if I did it. I didn't want to, really. I was so scared. But I did, because I knew it would be the best thing to do. People had suffered long enough because of that monster and this would ensure the final battle would happen soon."

Her voice trailed off at the end, cracking. It was pitiful, she sounded ready to burst into tears the entire time. My anger at Dumbledore increased.

How could he? She was but a child. A sweet young girl with the rest of her life ahead of her. She could've stayed safe in the muggle world, but instead she came to the wizarding world, even after learning the dangers. And then, when she is only recently out of school, he forces her to do something like this.

I know what it's like as a new member. They are harshest on you. You must kill more, protect yourself more. If you're a woman, you really have no other choice other than to be raped. I flinched at the idea of her being raped by disgusting older men. She was most likely raped by the Dark Lord himself since she was Harry Potters best friend. I froze as another thought came to mind.

Every recruit must do something, usually killing someone, in order to join. And since she was indeed Potter's best friend, her kill probably hurt that much more. What did she do? Did the old man really make her kill someone close to her? And if so, who did she kill? I looked back to her.

"Just one more question, I promise." I waited for her to look at me with those dead golden eyes before I continued. "Who did you have to kill?"

I immediately regretted asking as soon as the last word left my lips. Her bottom lip trembled and her eyes showed her own regret. She buried her head into my shoulder and wrapped her slender arms around my own, pressing herself tightly to me. She dry sobbed, refusing to cry and answered with a muffled reply. I lifted her head slowly, scared of her answer.

"Ron, Ron Weasley." My hand dropped from her chin and she buried her back into my shoulder, letting the tears fall now.

I was numb. There was absolutely no way she would have chosen him herself, Dumbledore had to of chosen. I may not have liked the boy much, but I understand how much he probably meant to her. How could that damn bloody man do this to the sweet little girl crying on my shoulder? I was beginning to question who was worse, Dumbledore or the Dark Lord. Dumbledore was resorting to The Dark Lord's methods, even manipulating people's lives and confusing people. Again, at least with the Dark Lord you knew what you were getting yourself into.

I looked back down to the girl who was no asleep against my arm. Her tiny hands barely gripped my wrist now and her face was pale and tear streaked. I shifted a little and pulled her into my lap, resting her head against my chest. One of my hands wrapped firmly behind her and the other resting over her legs. I leaned my head back against the wall.

It may seem odd to see me doing this, but that's alright. No one else would understand. No one else would understand what we had been through. I had always wanted someone to comfort me, to truly understand how terrible it all was, to understand how much I truly hated myself. I never expected to actually have that happen, not wanting anyone else to experience this. But now that someone was going through the same thing, I was going to do everything in my power to protect her.

A/N: ok, this is the beginning of the story that's been drifting about, forgotten. So, I hope you like it. Yes, the story will mostly be in Snape's POV, I will have some Hermione, but mostly Snape. Thank you for reading.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter or it's characters.