Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, and I make no money from my endeavors.
A/N: I've been working on this fic for awhile, and have come to the realization that it really must be posted before Book 7, else my entire premise would go to pot. As such, I'm probably going to be posting 1-2 chapters daily. I'd really love reviews so I can know what you think of each chapter as it comes…it helps me improve. That being said, enjoy!
Chapter 01
It had been two months since the death of Albus Dumbledore.
Severus Snape, former Potions Master of Hogwarts and most reviled Wizard in the world at large, had spent that time in the good graces of the Dark Lord. He brewed potions when asked, and participated in sporadic raids, but for the most part was left to his own devices.
It was during these quiet times that he found his mind wandering to the past. He was a long way from coming to terms with his role in his mentor's demise; there were times when he wondered why he didn't just brew something and end his pitiful excuse for a life.
Amidst these morbid thoughts, what puzzled and disturbed him the most was that when he thought back over the past few years the only person that really stood out, aside from Albus, was Hermione Granger. Though he wouldn't admit it if tortured, he had taken secret pleasure in watching her develop from an annoying know-it-all into a brilliant young woman. There was a small part of him that had even considered pursuing her, after graduation.
But that was…before.
All that being said it was, needless to say, an enormous surprise to see the object of his most hidden thoughts tossed roughly into the center of the ring of Death Eaters at one of the meetings.
Seemingly unafraid, she stood and glared at the two who had manhandled her, brushing the dirt off of her robes.
"Goyle, Nott…what excellent entertainment you have brought us this evening," a smooth reptilian voice said.
"A Mudblood, M'lord," Goyle groveled. "She was walkin' straight 'ere."
"How thoughtful of her," Voldemort said, eying her curiously. "Now why does the little Mudblood seem familiar?"
"My Lord," Lucius spoke up, stepping forward. "This is Potter's Mudblood friend, Hermione Granger. She has been discussed in the past." He eyed her lasciviously. "And you were present when we…dealt…with her and her family a fortnight ago."
"Of course. Interesting," he said, looking her up and down.
Hermione, who had been watching Voldemort fearlessly, dropped into a deep curtsey. "My Lord," she murmured, eyes downcast. "I believe your followers have been lax in their duties, and allowed me into your presence armed." She reached into the sleeve of her robes and pulled out a wand. "I surrender my wand to you freely."
He wasn't entirely certain what Lucius had been referring to, but that moment was when Snape decided she was clearly insane. No witch or wizard willingly gave over his or her wand, particularly not when faced with a Dark Lord and his minions.
Lucius moved forward smoothly and snatched the wand from her hand, kicking her over in the process. As they all looked on, she stood, brushed off her robes again, then sank back into her curtsey.
"I assure you, Mudblood, their oversight will be addressed later," Voldemort said, his voice laced with promises of agony. Goyle and Nott shifted uncomfortably. "Now…"
He flicked his wand casually, and suddenly Hermione was frozen, stuck as surely as if there were chains holding her in place.
"Who sent you!" Voldemort hissed. "Your pathetic Order?"
"I come of my own accord," she said firmly. "I'm tired of being the brains behind all of Potter's little schemes. I've known him for nearly seven years, and it has become quite clear that he is in no way capable of defeating you, my Lord. Perhaps were Dumbledore alive, but Snape took care of that obstacle."
Her head being the only thing she could move, Hermione looked over to where Snape stood, unerringly picking him out from amongst the other masked figures.
"Well done, Sir."
Hermione's attention returned to the Dark Lord. "I'm sure you have heard that I am a witch of exceptional skill and intelligence. I'm also Harry Potter's best friend, able to get close to him." She paused, letting her words sink in. As they did, the invisible bonds seemed to loosen. She could tell she would be unable to move more than a foot or two in any direction, but it was a start. "I choose to be on the side that will win."
There was no warning.
"Legilimens!"
Voldemort was not gentle as he raked through her mind. He saw her increasing frustration with a spoiled boy who was becoming more and more erratic. He saw the despair and hopelessness that weighed everyone down once Dumbledore had been killed. He saw her willingness to serve him.
Hermione had managed to keep her feet during his brutal assault, biting her lip hard enough to draw blood. She swayed slightly, but otherwise remained still.
"Tell me," Voldemort asked, seeming genuinely curious, "why would you choose to align yourself with the very people who would wipe your kind from the Earth?"
Hermione's eyes hardened and her determination was almost palpable. "Better a live Mudblood than a dead one, My Lord. As I said, I choose to be on the winning side."
He eyed her speculatively. "Perhaps." Walking slowing away, he spoke again. "I still must say, I find myself questioning your sincerity. Not two weeks ago, your home and your family was destroyed by my followers. If I recall, you were forced to watch your parents die, then were tortured, raped, and left for dead. How is it that you are now here, seemingly unharmed?"
"A Glamour, My Lord. Your followers do their work well…I'll never be able to go out in public without it."
"I give you credit for persistence if nothing else, Mudblood."
As before, there was no warning before he snapped his wand at her.
"Crucio!" he shouted.
Snape could only look on as she fell to the ground from the pain of the curse. She was strong, he'd give her that…he'd seen many a full Death Eater scream in agony, yet the only sounds that passed her lips were small whimpers. It seemed to him like forever before it was lifted; he knew from experience it was an eternity for someone on the receiving end.
The Dark Lord circled her as she lay twitching at his feet.
"But a taste of the price to serve me, my sweet."
The witch took a shuddering breath and pushed herself to her knees. "As you wish, My Lord."
"Arise, then, little Mudblood. You see, you were correct that we have heard tales of your… accomplishments. However, the words of others are not sufficient to grant you entry to these ranks."
Bellatrix chose that moment to rush forward.
"My Lord! You would not seriously consider allowing this scum to linger in our presence?!"
"You dare to question me, Bella? Crucio!" After only seconds of holding the curse, the witch was screaming as she writhed on the ground. "The decision is mine, and mine alone. You would all do well to think before you question the plans of your Lord!"
He turned from the whimpering witch to face Hermione again.
"Crabbe, Macnair, Goyle, Jugson, Mulciber, Rookwood; perhaps you would like to…entertain our guest? Lucius, give the Mudblood her wand back."
His eyes didn't leave hers when he issued his commands.
"You, my dear, shall prove yourself worthy of joining these ranks. Kill them if you can; if they die, it will be their own fault for not being stronger than a filthy Mudblood like yourself. If you survive, which I sincerely doubt, I shall…consider…your application."