Chapter 1

Disclaimer: All Characters Owned by JK Rowling.

Note: This was originally ch1 and ch2, I have combined them to make a more fluid story. :-)

Shell Cottage, Present Day, 2002

Hermione Granger was never one to shy away from a challenge. In some respects, this was not only her greatest strength, but her greatest weakness as well. She knew this. She was not so naïve to think that being Hogwarts' resident know-it-all was an entirely good thing. It certainly didn't do much for her in the friend department and, though it was generally a benefit, not all her professors were entirely fond of her waving her hand around in class whenever they ask her a question. She knew it wasn't her most celebrated quality, but to heck with what other people think.

When the war rolled around and she, Harry, and Ron went into hiding, she threw herself into the task of keeping them safe and finding you-know-who's horcruxes. Sorry, Voldemort's horcruxes. She wrinkled her nose, Dumbledore's words chiming through her mind: Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself. Old habits die hard, she supposed.

At that moment, she picked a mug from the kitchen cupboard and began to pour herself a cup of tea from the teapot that had been steeping for god knows how long. Searching for horcruxes and hiding from death eaters had been a full-time job for her, she put all her know-it-all efforts into becoming the best horcrux huntress there ever was. She took a sip of the black tea and found herself wrinkling her nose again—too strong, she poured what remained from her mug down the sink and put the kettle on the burner again. It never crossed her mind that she would fail. She glanced down at her forearm—though it was covered by her cardigan, she could feel the pulsing of that wretched word etched into her arm. She sighed, dumping the bitter tea from the teapot and pouring the freshly boiled water over a new bag of English breakfast tea. With a wave of her hand she set a timer, she would be damned if she was going to let this pot steep too long.

Now that she had the time to reflect, that day at Malfoy manner marked the beginning of the end. Hermione frowned at that, crossing her arms and standing at the sink in the direction of the kitchen window as she waited for her timer to go off, the soft ebb and flow of the tide heard in the distance. Even though she had lost so much that day—including her freedom—the fact that Ron and Harry were able to escape gave her some hope. What a fool I was, she thought bitterly as her mind recalled the events that followed that horrific day…

Malfoy Manor, 1998

Barely conscious, Hermione watched as Harry and Ron dropped their borrowed wands at Bellatrix's command. Internally, she was screaming at them to just go. All hope began to drain from her friends faces as the doors to the room opened and a fresh wave of death eaters flooded in. There was no escape.

As soon as that thought had crossed her mind, she heard a pop and Dobby appeared between the two boys. It was as though time slowed down as she watched the boys look from the elf to her and then back again.

"Go!" She managed to croak, her voice hoarse from all the screaming. "GO!" she screamed louder this time. "I'll be waiting…" she whispered as they took the elf's hands and with another pop she was alone.

Bellatrix screeched as the boys left her sights, she threw Hermione to the ground as the entire room descended into chaos. It was mere seconds before the witch was back on top of the younger witch screaming "Where are they?! Where have they gone?!" over and over. "Answer me mudblood!" she snarled, shaking Hermione.

"I don't know…" she croaked.

"LIAR!" Bellatrix screamed. Her hands mercilessly clutched Hermione's face, "Last chance," Bella hissed, "before I ruin your pretty little face…" The deatheater look satisfied as fear welled in Hermione's eyes, but Hermione would be damned if she bowed down to this witch.

"Do your worst," she hissed, venom like no other dripping from her voice.

The elder witch howled in rage, lust and pure, unadulterated fear for the punishment that awaited her for losing Potter and his red-haired goon. Her thumbs, much to Hermione's dismay, sunk into the inner corner of each of her eyes…

"Bella!" Narcissa shouted as she tried to drag her sister off of the younger woman, "Release her!" Bellatrix reluctantly pulled her thumbs from the girl's eyes, smirking in spite of herself—the damage was done. Hermione had passed out.

"Cissy!" Bella hissed, "how dare you… do you know what the Dark Lord is going to do to me over this? To us?!"

"Mangling the only offering we have will do us no favours, Bella!" Narcissa glowered at her sister, her knuckles were white from holding onto Bella so tightly. "She might be the only reason we live," she nodded at the frizzy haired know-it-all, "but only if she is alive long enough to be a bartering chip." As if on cue, shouts were heard throughout the manner announcing the arrival of the Dark Lord. "Allow me to do the talking."

"You always have had a way with words, dear sister," Bellatrix curled her lips, her eyes sparkled with a shine that was not there before her time in Azkaban.

At that moment the timer buzzed, pulling Hermione from her memory and causing her to flinch. She reached down to the teapot, feeling for the tag attached to the teabag. Sighing, she lifted the teabag, dipping it a few times before she discarded it beside the sink. "Let's try this again…" she hummed, pouring another mug of tea and tentatively taking a sip. "Perfect…" she smiled into the mug.

At that moment, Hermione heard the gentle click of the front door. She frowned and as she went to place her mug on the counter, she missed it by an inch. "Shoot!" she hissed, as the porcelain smashed on the tile floor and the hot liquid scalded her bare feet, "Ah!" she winced as she knelt to try and clean up the shards, accidentally cutting her knees in the process, warranting a number of new curses to slip from her mouth. Blasted eyes! If she could see, this wouldn't be a problem. That telltale burn returned to her eyes, threatening tears.

"Hermione?" she turned her head up to the source of the voice. "Merlin girl, what did you do?" She felt a small gust of wind as what she assumed was a tidying charm was cast. She heard the person approach her and stop, their robes brushed her as he knelt down. "Did you forget you were a witch again?" She could hear the smirk, even if she couldn't see it. At that moment, her eyes betrayed her as she felt a tear roll down her cheek.

The man across from her released a deep sigh, whispering healing charms to mend the superficial cuts on her knees. "I brewed a pot of tea…" she whispered.

"How about I make us dinner, then?" he offered as he held her arms and lifted her to her feet. "Sit." He said pointedly as he led her to one of the kitchen chairs. She felt his presence leave her and heard what sounded like a new cup of tea being poured. He returned, gripping one of her hands and placing it around the pleasantly hot mug. There was a long silence as Hermione simply enjoyed her tea.

"Tell me about your day." She said softly, gripping the mug with both hands, holding it close to her chest. The man sighed again as pots began to clatter, and food was summoned from the fridge.

"There is nothing to tell, unfortunately," he said quietly, "There is talk of a…" he hesitated, "breeding programme." She wrinkled her nose and furrowed her brow, he must have noticed because she didn't need to prompt him to continue speaking. "The Dark Lord wants to strengthen the wizarding race. But he would never ask purebloods to breed with squalor," he spat the last few words in disgust. "No, instead he intends on punishing half-bloods for their impure heritage and make them breed with mudbloods." Hermione didn't gasp at this, very little shocked her as of late.

"Does that mean…?" she began.

"No." he interrupted, "no one will be joining us here. As far as the Dark Lord is concerned, he believes me to be his most loyal servant who handed him Hogwarts and guaranteed his victory. He sees no reason to impose the breeding programme on me." There was a loud bubbling which indicated that the vegetables were boiling. Hermione instinctively rose to her feet and took the top off the pot and turned the burner's temperature down. She could almost feel the eyebrow raise.

"Muscle memory," she said sheepishly, "and many, many burns."

"He also figures that I have one of the best mudbloods for breeding," she could hear the frown in his voice. She swallowed some of her fear, wondering if that meant that she might be recruited into the programme, even if he was not. "No." he answered her fears, "You will be fine and left alone. He knows that you are a vital contributor to my potions. Without you, my productivity would be cut in half. He would not risk his potion supply suffering."

"Good to know he has his priorities." She said drily, he snorted in response. She squeaked as she felt him lift her up and seat her on the kitchen counter.

"Taste." He instructed, holding a spoon to her mouth. She tentatively took the spoon in her mouth.

"Mmm, it's heavenly." She moaned, most people didn't know this, but food was her absolute weakness.

"What do you taste?"

"Worcestershire sauce…"

"Of course, when do I not cook with it?" she laughed at that.

"Onions… sugar… Dijon mustard?"

"Yes. What else?" She hummed as if in deep thought. There was indeed another flavour she could not identify. She heard a gentle chuckle from him, "Sip." Something else was pressed to her lips at that moment. Doing as she was told, she wrinkled her nose and coughed as she swallowed the bitter liquid.

"Eugh!" She spluttered, "Beer! How can something so disgusting be in something so delicious?!" He let out a hearty laugh at her reaction and resumed cooking. He enjoyed having a companion to cook with more than he would care to admit. He reached over to the kitchen table and picked up her mug, returning it to her where she sat atop the counter.

"Thank you," she smiled gently, taking the mug from him, "Severus." He wrinkled his nose as she said his name, he still, after all this time, was not used to it.

After a long silence as Hermione sipped her tea and Severus continued to prepare dinner, she took a breath, "What about, ehm, new witches and wizards born to muggle parents?"

"What of them?" Severus replied. He is avoiding the question, she thought bitterly, he knows I won't like the answer.

"What happens to them?" Silence. "Severus, please." She reached out toward him but just as her fingertips grazed his robes, he stepped away from her.

"I do not wish to discuss this any further." His voice was quiet, dangerously quiet. She knew that these past years have been just as hard for him as they were for her but dammit, she wanted answers.

"Severus." She pursed her lips. "Please. There are too many things you won't let me ask you about."

"It's for your own good."

"Is it?" She questioned, "or is it for yours?"

Malfoy Manor, 1998

A few days after Hermione's capture

"Crucio!"

Severus writhed in pain on the floor, the pain was matched only by the pain endured by the Dark Lord invading his mind, tearing at the walls he built to protect all the light that he fought for. A cackle in the background indicated that they had company. All pain ceased.

"Bella," the Dark Lord hissed, "Why do you interrupt ussss?"

"Forgive me my lord," she grinned, sauntering over to where Severus lay on the ground. "I heard he requested my mudblood." She sneered and gave him a swift kick to the stomach. "Does dear Sevvy care for the frizzy haired whore?" She knelt close to him, "Do you think you can save her? Too late-you half-blood fool, she is damaged goods."

"Now Bella," the Dark Lord chided, "He has made me an offer I don't know if I can refuse."

Bella raised an eyebrow at him, "Oh?"

"A trade, if you will. Her life in exchange for the location of some of our most persistent foes."

"And he withholds this information?!" She howled, "Cruci-" her curse was interrupted by the Dark Lord flinging his own at her.

"Mind your place Bella," He hissed. When he cancelled the curse, staring at the woman now panting from her spot on the floor. Arousal filled her features as she gazed up at him. The crazy bitch got off on being tortured. He sighed, sweeping a hand over his face.

At the moment, Severus was able to speak—though his voice was hoarse, "I sought this information out specifically to trade it for the girl." His eyes hesitantly gazed up at the snake-like man that towered over him, "And I will trade it for her only."

"It matters not to me if you believe me, Miss Granger." His voice was cold… he was occluding.

"You can't simply block me out when it pleases you, not after everything we have been through." There was no response. "You are more of coward than I thought, Severus Snape." She spat the word coward as she pushed herself off the counter and stormed out of the kitchen. She bumped into the odd piece of furniture along her way, but she was familiar enough with the path to make it safely into the living room. Based on the faint crackling and rich scent, Severus had started a fire when he got home. She knew she was baiting him by calling him a coward.

"I am no coward." A quiet voice said behind her. He snuck up on her in spite of her improved hearing. But of course, he was no coward. He was the bravest man she knew. Well… the bravest man still living, anyways.

"Of course." She quipped, "My mistake. Please do forgive me."

"Damnit Mi-"

"Hermione." She snapped, "You only address me formally when you are treating me like a child. I deserve to know what happens to my kind when they are born." She whipped around, bumping into him because of how close he stood to her. "Among other things." She muttered bitterly. He needed to be more forthcoming with information that was relevant to her. It wasn't fair. She was cooped up in this place, his place.

"No."

"No?!" She practically screamed, her blood boiling and her face flushing.

"No, Hermione." She could hear the sarcastic sneer.

"You. Are. A. Coward." Each word dripped with venom. "You are too afraid to tell me what the Dark Lord has planned because it is easier to pretend nothing out there—" she gestured wildly toward what she thought were the windows, "—is actually happening." She crossed her arms. "I will not continue to be a sanctuary for you, Severus. Not if it means keeping me in the dark."

Severus sighed, running a hand through his hair. He knew he had to start telling her things eventually, but he loathed the idea of her getting worked up over something she couldn't change. But… he had to tell her. He had to give her something, lest she investigate on her own and somehow, some way, discover how he saved her all those years ago. "They die." He whispered, "Their entire bloodline is decimated… parents, siblings, grandparents, aunts and uncles, if it breathes—it dies." Hermione placed a hand over her mouth, stifling a cry. "I'm sorry." He reached out and placed his hands on her shoulders. "I wish there was more we could do. Really, Hermione, I do." Her brow furrowed, she brushed his hands off her shoulders and spun away from him, obviously contemplating something.

"There must be something we can do…" she hummed.

"No." He said sternly.

"No as in there is nothing, or no as in you will not even entertain the idea of intervening?" She turned toward where he was standing, her arms were crossed and her brow knit together.

"No as in stop this foolishness. I have risked far too much to keep you safe to jeopardize it now." Hermione's face flushed, he could see her irritation beginning to surface. The crackling fire behind her was fitting as a backdrop as she moved slowly toward him. Her hair, which was braided and spun into a bun caught the light of the flames, framing her face like a halo. The scars around her damaged eyes had healed well enough, but the vacant stare they gave off was unnerving when she was angry.

"My life is no more valuable than the babes that your brethren slaughter." She hissed, now inches from his face.

"Despite what you seem to think, Hermione," Severus leaned in until his nose was nearly touching hers, "This is not up for discussion. I will not risk your safety. End… of… story." He drawled the last few words, trying his damnedest to intimidate the little swot into stepping down. He should be so lucky.

"Not up for discussion?! I am not your prisoner, and we will discuss it." Hermione snarled.

"Technically, little dove, you are indeed my prisoner." He sneered, his voice a low growl. "It would be in your best interest to remember that."

"Your posturing doesn't scare me." She said defiantly, "You would never hurt me."

"Oh, Miss Granger," he said sadly, "I am capable of quite a bit more evil than you give me credit for."

Malfoy Manor, 1998

"It is secret kept." Severus said, looking up from the map. "Grimmauld Place is the headquarters for the Order. Since you captured the mutt, it is conceivable that he would lead you there. Absolving me of guilt and keeping me as your dedicated spy." He lowered his gaze in deference to the snake.

"Would they believe that the werewolf would betray them?" Lucius spoke now.

"No." Severus sighed, "that is where the Imperius curse comes in." He looked at the Dark Lord now, "We can do this without getting our hands dirty, my Lord. Yes, the brethren will be disappointed that they will be unable to revel in the deaths of valued Order members, but this way our numbers will not take a hit—no one will place us at the scene." He paused, "We have him to kill all the residents, finishing it off by killing himself."

After what felt like an eon, the Dark Lord sneered. "Well, well, Severusss," he grinned, "You do deserve the girl after all. She is yours, you have my word."

Severus breathed a sigh of relief, she was safe from these monsters. He knew his trade meant the death of the mutt, but given the time of year, he suspected that to be the only casualty. If only he knew then what he knows now…

End Chapter 1

Read & Review!