Sometimes when a person has been haunted by deeds so evil, actions so heinous, sights so mortifying, they begin to accept them and in turn they become cold, frozen inside with souls of black, hearts of ice and intentions so brutal.
Threateningly the hooded figure pinned him to the stone wall, his cheek against the cold grey stone.
"Who are you?" asked the figure with a low voice, their hot breath travelling across the raven haired man's ear. He grit his teeth determined not to speak. "Be aware, my patience is very short," the voice hissed menacingly. "Why are you here, then? Why were you following me?" Again he did not speak. His arm trapped behind was yanked a little higher. "Don't make me ask again or prepare to face the consequences."
"Albus sent me," he ground out against the stone work. "Like I told you before."
"Do not patronize me," his captor yelled in his ear. Years of spying was all that kept him from flinching. His blood roared him his ears, his senses on hyper alert. The hooded figure pressed their body against his, emphasising their current situation. He felt something soft press against his back, a little below his chest height. No it couldn't. The fingers around his wrist held like the grip of a man. His instincts told him this was a man but everything breathed female; the slight whiff of flowers, the stature and the breasts pressing into his back. He was being overpowered by a woman.
In a lightning second he twisted around in his captors grip, delivering a blow towards their flank with is foot in the process. A split second later he was on the ground, foot to his windpipe, wand to his temple.
"You are in no position fight back," said the voice from the blackened hood above him, their face still hidden in the shadows. "If you refuse to answer me I have no qualms about how I get the information I need out of you."
The man on the floor took in shallow breaths as he weighed his options which were few and far between.
"Who are you?"
"Severus Snape," he replied with only a limited amount of hesitation.
"Do not lie to me," yelled the voice as the foot dug deeper into this windpipe. "Severus Snape is dead."
"Open your eyes and take a look then," he sneered.
"The eyes can be deceiving," the hooded woman almost whispered. "Do not make me ask again."
"I am Severus Snape and am here on orders of Albus Dumbledore," he repeated clearly. "I assure you, I am very much alive."
"I watched Severus Snape die." An instant later he was thrown against the wall, his arms magically trapped in concrete bonds. The next thing he knew his robes frock coat and linen shirt were sliced off his body with a single swipe of a knife, wielded with precision he could not ever remember seeing before. "Unfortunately, for you it would seem, truth serums have tendency to be too lenient with the answers they produce. Physical manipulation, however, is much more effective and enjoyable."
He watched the shining blade of the knife slide up his white torso stopping when it reached his collar bone. The metal was cold against his skin. The pressure behind it created welts in its wake but was not hard enough to break the skin. If he was back in his days as a Death Eater he would have already gotten on to slicing his victim to pieces whilst still leaving them conscious for interrogation. This manipulator seemed to be more intent on using fear to their advantage.
The blade remained stationary for a little to long. Tipping his head down, he watched as the one of the dainty hands lifted a ring on a chain off his sternum. He wanted to shout and rave at the woman not to touch his ring but remained silent not wanting to give them any leverage.
The knife disappeared from its threatening position near his neck and returning to wherever it was kept. Both hands lovingly held the ring between them.
Finally the captor looked up, their hood slipping back to reveal her face. Her skin was pale, her lips drawn tight. Her hair was done in a tight braid and was dead straight unlike the hair he use to remember, the hair he enjoyed spearing his fingers into. Her brown orbs slowly met his black ones looking at him in question.
"Severus?"
Only a whisper passed through his lips, conveying his disbelief, his longing, his heart wrenched soul. In this one small word he laid everything he had to offer.
"Hermione."
ooOOoo
Albus had told him this was the informant. The only time any of the Order ever saw him in person. Tonks was the only one who ever met with them. This informant wanted very much to keep their identity a secret. He had not seen cloaking abilities like this, which nearly outstripped his own, since the war years. 'The Informant' as they had come to be know, was like a shadow that only came out at night, hidden, undistinguishable from the other shadows around them.
Silently he waited in those same shadows, ready to follow 'the Informant'. He was the one in the black robes, hood up as always according to Tonks. Tonight she looked like a male cousin of Lucius Malfoy, tall, slightly up turned nose, shoulder length white blonde hair finished with a fine black cloak. She was able to fit right in with the crowds of on the street just outside the alleyway. 'The Informant' was short and would only come up to his shoulder. Other than that, he could tell little as they were hidden in the folds of black cloth. Their walk was light and calculated, they gave off a sense of power, or self arrogance, sometimes it was hard to tell between the two.
The meeting between the two ended and Tonks was the first to leave. He waited a moment before turning and heading down a small lane that was nearly indistinguishable from the crates and rubbish that surrounded it.
Silently like he had been trained so many years ago he followed. His tread was light, his boots making no sound. He followed at a safe distance, walking around the small puddles across the cobblestone lane. Up head he saw them turn down another lane. It was five minutes or so before he reached an abandoned room. There was something not right about this picture. 'The Informant' must have sense himself being followed. Creating a duplicate of himself he sent it in. As soon as it stepped in the room 'the Informant' pounced. Vividly he watched as a fight ensued. He heard a swish of fabric the second before his wand was spelled out of his hand. Both his duplicate and 'the Informant' disappeared into thin air. They had both been duplicates. He was caught in his own trap.
A kick to his back sent him flying into room before he could stop it. He managed to roll before he hit the floor and was on his feet facing towards the informant as they locked the door. They were both trapped in the small room.
So he didn't have his wand. He could fight well without it. Few wizards were able to physically fight. Darting towards 'the Informant' he wandlessly disarmed them. The few kicks and punches he sent were all blocked and before he knew it he was thrown against the stone wall, his arm pinned behind his back.
ooOOoo
Sitting quietly at his desk, Albus Dumbledore reread the letter he had received the previous week. An anonymous source had sent it. They didn't say who they were just that the Order of Phoenix needed to be reformed. They spoke of a great force coming to power, that they needed to be ready for it, ready to act at a moments notice. A new uprising of evil was on the horizon and they needed to be prepared.
Never before had he received a letter like this. His curiosity was peaked. The fact that a prophecy had told this information was something to be considered seriously.
Only minutes before he had received a floo call from Harry Potter. He had sent him the letter to try and work out who had sent the letter. Nothing. Not even the faintest trace of a muggle signature. A pixie could have written this for all he knew but he had a hunch it was a wizard.
Information regarding the address of a Death Eater that had escaped their efforts to be found was given as a sort of payment. It turned out when Orders Auror's had raided the house, said Death Eater had reached an unfortunate end several weeks prior.
Erring on the side of caution Albus decided to investigate further into this anonymous informant.
ooOOoo
Breathing heavily through clenched teeth Hermione rested her forearms on the back of a park bench. It felt like a thousand knives were piercing her stomach, again. Closing her eyes she counted her breaths, blocking out all the distractions around her. Mentally she began to release endorphins to ease the pain, her rigorously trained mind following her wishes.
Moving the arm which had come to rest against her abdomen away she saw the faint traces of blood marring her skin. Swearing under her breath she dipped her bloodied hand into her pants pocket in search for the vial she had been keeping with her since she was released from the hospital.
Popping the cork she downed half the contents of the thumb sized vial. Instantaneously the pain lessened and she felt the magic at work, re knitting her broken skin. Breathing out a heavy breath she stood fully but resisted the urge to bend and twist in case her skin broke again.
Before she could turn around a hand gripped her shoulder and the owner began speaking in a croaky voice reminding her of a long since deceased relative that had smoked two pack a day.
"In the dawn of the new day, a new Lord of Darkness begins his ascent."
Turning she saw the owner of the voice, an aging woman. It was hard to tell how old she was but definitely past her prime. Wrinkles covered her face, pronounced crows feet leading towards her blue eyes hidden behind her thin spectacles.
"As he lies innocently the darkness of the night embraces him, engulfing his soul as it cries out for help by Stone Hedge. Oh, the webs of deceit he weaves satisfies his soul, but not for long," she continued. "Help must find him before the first strike of the knife else all hope will be lost. All will be lost to the darkness that has already begun. Before the first strike of the knife else all hope will be lost."
Hermione didn't know what to say, instead standing there shell shocked.
Suddenly the old woman shook her head a little.
"Were you after something, deary?" she asked sweetly, her red hair falling out of her bun.
"Um…no…I…ah. No," she finally managed. Giving the woman a smile she moved away back towards her squad car, the woman's words playing heavily on her mind. There was no doubt now. It was time for her to return to what she left behind, if only to save the world she once lived in.
ooOOoo
As she lay there, the fighting continued around her. She tried to move her legs but she couldn't. Instead she lay there, as her breathing became harder. She dared not remove her hands as the pressed down on her wounds, stemming most of the bleeding. People passed her vision but no one stopped.
"Oh God, Michael!" someone screamed. Suddenly a short haired man came into her line of sight. "Danielle," he said.
Hermione managed to make a weak gurgling sound as the blood in her lungs continued to grow.
"Ah shit," he said. "It's okay darling. It's going to be okay." The completely obvious doubt in his voice did nothing to calm her. As his partner turned up they began to perform first aid before the shifted her onto a stretcher and racing her off to the ambulance.
"It's not often we get someone we know around here," her room mate joked as he and Michael sped towards the hospital. All she could do was watch him. She had no strength do anything else.
Several minutes and as many lame jokes later the ambulance arrived at the hospital and suddenly there were too many sounds and the lights were too bright.
"6 GSW to the abdomen," she heard amongst the wave of noise, Andy by her side as they sped towards the emergency bay just through the hospital doors.
"Andy, Mike," she croaked out to them, but her words were lost in the chaos. Andy offered her a quick squeeze of the hand before he disappeared and the doctors started working on her.
It was late the next day before she entered the Critical ward and weeks after that she was out of hospital with strict orders to rest, but like she would listen. A few waves of her wand and a cauldron and she deemed herself ready to go back to active work with a forged doctors certificate. Too long doing something non active and she began to think about him and she couldn't do that. She wouldn't allow herself.
ooOOoo
Her breathing steady she knew the finishing line was just ahead. She was far ahead of the others even though their starts had been staggered. Her lungs were sore but she would not let up, she knew she could run like this for another six hours before passing out from exhaustion.
Coming around the city block she knew the attacker was there before he knew she was there. With a quick dive she knocked him over, his knife pinned behind his back as she tied his hands and feet with his own belt. A second later she was on her feet, the middle aged police officer tied up on the street curb. Less than a minute later she crossed the finishing line, startling the time keepers as the raced about, clearly not expecting her arrival.
"Fifty-one minutes, 14 seconds," called the head time keeper as he wrote down her time. "Completely smashed the State record," he stated shaking her hand.
After grabbing a bottle of water she sipped it lightly as she looked around to the other cadets, all males, who were lying around on several benches completely out of breath. Admittedly it did take her two minutes to comfortably get her pulse back to its normal rate, but they were the first batch of police cadets to run the course, she was the first of the second batch. Really.
She had finally decided on where to settle down. Far away from her past and was now getting a job. Soon she would be a protector of the peace, a police officer.
ooOOoo
Dragging the knife in a satisfying pattern, she was not pleased that Bella's screams didn't have their desired effect. They were too insane to give her pleasure, too…wrong, to give her payment for the insane woman's actions.
With frustration she reefed out some of the raven haired woman's intestines and peeled off several more chunks of skin off her face. The skin hooks holding her prisoner up no longer provided any release for her soul.
Finally the cries died down but the hollow still remained. The longing was still there. Her heart was still empty.
A murmured word and the woman regained consciousness. "You took my love away and tore out my heart," she said savagely. "Now I will take yours!"
The piercing scream that resounded was followed swiftly by the silence of death.
It would be over a year before the preservation spell wore off and even longer before what was left of the woman was found.
ooOOoo
With swift full turn she brought down half of her opponents with her staff, her anger fuelling her action.
Finally her master held up his hand and she stopped, standing her staff beside her right foot, her eyes ahead, looking out over the distant snow capped mountains.
"You have learnt much here," her Master said as he watched her. "But still you are to learn." At this Hermione bowed her head.
"I am willing to learn anything from you master," she replied dutifully.
"While your fighting skills surpass those off all who are here and your knowledge and magical skills are unmatched, you still must learn to control yourself. You have control over you mind and can block and manipulate easily but you still have not mastered yourself. The anger in you must be released." The wizened wizard paused for a moment before finishing in a softer voice, "Your anger cannot be fulfilled and released through revenge. You must come to accept.
"This is something I cannot teach you. It is something you must learn on your own. Leave this place and if destiny permits, may we meet in the future."
A wave of his hand and all her belongings came flying to his feet, packing themselves mid air before landing in a bag.
"Take your things and leave us. May your life be whole once more."
With a bow she knelt down and bowed low before retrieving her bag and making her way down the mountain to civilisation.
ooOOoo
After a three day journey and a lot of huffing and puffing, Hermione emerged to a small group of Chinese houses. Swiping the hair away from her face she saw several young men walk out of one house and disappear into another. They wore long robes and had sort black hair. It certainly appeared that she was in the right place.
Before she had even taken another step a sword appeared at her throat and a young boy appeared beside her, wandlessly controlling the sword.
"Who you?" he asked in disjoined English.
"Hermione," she replied, shaking in her boots with fear, or perhaps that was exhaustion?
"Why you here?"
"I've come to see Master Senyori. I wish to learn from him."
ooOOoo
Hermione darted between the trees, the black cloak still in her sights. She hurt all over but she had to keep going. She had to. She would not let her get away. Physical pain did not matter as her rage drover her forward. All reasonable thought had fled her mind several minutes before.
Dashing into a clearing the young witch looked this way and that, twirling her wand about in an attempt to find the other witch but it was no good, she was long gone.
"No," she cried, trying the spells again. "No, you can't be gone." She frantically scanned the trees looking for some sign of the other woman but could not find her. "No," she whimpered, exhaustion causing her to slump to the ground in defeat.
"I will get you one day Bella," she swore softly to the wind. "One day I will find you and extract my vengeance now that you have taken everything that I was. I have nothing therefore nothing to loose. I will not hold back. I shall extract my revenge and you shall pay with your blood," she finally whispered, looking up into the endless sky.
ooOOoo