Thanks to all who cracked up under my stupid pressures. I thank veryone who reviewed. Big thanks to Whogirl who made it possible for this chapter to be published tonight. It's kinda dedicated for her.
Sarah: I KNOW! It is degrading to impose people to review; I thought so too! It's a horrible habit some people have. The worse part is- it works! Totally does! The ratings for this story boosted up really quickly! It's so totally scary!
So even through I think it's very blackmailing and bitchy- what do you expect? It works; why stop? I received three reviews in less than an hour! So well: Twenty reviews and chapter four appears here. …. Goddness I'm so goddanm shallow. I feel bad now.
My Dirty Little Secret
This wasn't normal. Hermione could not put her finger on exactly what was wrong, but something made her shiver.
It was too calm. Too rational. She was the enemy. They were supposed to torture her for information. Hold her hostage; send pieces of her to the Order to scare them. Taunt her. Scream at least!
But no, all she gets is a silent reception. Voldemort had only talked to her once.
Snape's suggestion obviously startled someone. She couldn't really figure out who it was.
Death Eaters were supposed to be cruel, Muggle Born hating individuals with an unquenchable lust to kill and cause pain.
But here she was, sitting in an electric chair, a bit puzzled maybe, a bit scared too, but not terrorized at all.
Well, it wasn't true. She was terrorized, but she was angrier than anything else.
Hermione was a bit angry at herself to be so easily kidnapped. She had managed to fight off three of the five Death Eaters with magic, and simply broke the arm of the fourth Death Eater rather brutally with a tree cob she had found.
The fifth Death Eater had been very clever. Or maybe it had been Voldemort's plan. Anyways, as the fifth Death Eater (not one Hermione knew) ran towards her with a stiletto, she automatically raised her arm in attempt to catch the knife.
The dagger had been a Portkey. Both had apparated near an old, ugly, betony bunker. Hermione had been quickly thrown into a crystal cage. Thanks to all her time passed in the library, she knew that escaping wasn't an option. The crystal cage was a tricky little thing: if you tried to use magic, or to escape without the key, your bones turned into crystal. Bumping into someone might break your skeleton into thousands of pieces.
Hermione figured out they had hid there during the whole day before this time a bigger battalion of Death eaters came to fetch her.
The only one who came unharmed enough to drag her to the Dark Lord were the two acne ravaged teenagers that brought her into the room. The rest were in the Infirmary being taken care off for several cases of pure physical pain due to Hermione's struggle.
The Death Eaters who'd had been part of the kidnapping didn't brag about it. The new recruits assumed because they were dutiful followers and the praise was Voldemort's. The older ones knew that they were too humiliated by the fact of a Muggle-Born managed to neutralize them without magic.
What they didn't know however was that it was perfectly legitimate to admit this.
The kidnapping had been planned on purpose. Snape wasn't trusted by Voldemort anymore. The Order's plan had been simple, yet quite cruel: Use Hermione Granger as bait to get Voldemort to trust Snape.
Why Hermione?
Answer: because: a) She was Muggleborn
b) She had managed to send a good deal of Death eaters to Azkaban
c) She was one of Harry Potter's best friends.
The Plan's first phase had started already back in October: Hermione's intense training. Not only did she receive very trough training in Defense against Dark Arts, but also a very strict body training.
The magical part had been easy. Hermione was almost two years ahead of everyone in her class.
Only to get the body of an athlete in less then a half year without too many people noticing, that was a real challenge. Hermione had always loathed sports, but was now forced to cope with the situation.
The only consolation maybe was that Tonks had trained her. Both women came along well, and training her body wasn't as rough as Hermione had suspected.
It was worse.
True, she learned a complicated mix of teakwo-do, karate, boxing and wrestling, which had been exhausting to no end, but she had to admit that having a good physical strength was good.
Snape had taken care of her psychological training. She had been taught various forms of Occlumency. She'd taught how to lie, how to act innocently, how to control your body so it wouldn't betray her.
Her graduation test with Snape had been successful. She had managed to make Malfoy's cauldron explode and almost got away with it. Snape saw through her the last moment; she received a mental congratulation and a withdraw of fifty points form Gryffindor.
The plan had been checked over many times. Hermione was going to get kidnapped on her birthday. She would go to her Muggle relatives and friends to party and would come home –escorted of course- and get attacked by death eaters. Snape – part of Hermione's escort- would stun the other people protecting the girl and drag her away to a betony bunker and wait until the next band of death eaters would come and pick her up.
From there on, Hermione would travel along with the Death eaters –being many times 'tortured' by Snape, who'd be using charms and potions in order to put fake wounds on her. If however the Dark Lord decided to the job himself, Hermione would be provided with a potion that would numb her body and block her brain from any thought.
Later, after Voldemort's head quarters would have been located thanks to Hermione and Snape, the Order will strike. They would have concrete evidence of the Death eaters whereabouts and he able to legally kill them. If Hermione's life would come to be too much as risk, Snape would fake her death.
The plan was fool proof. Or so they thought.
The first problem had been more or less easy to arrange: Snape, due to an accident in during Potions had to stay at Saint Mungos. He wouldn't be released in time for the plan. But it was impossible to postpone it.
So Hermione had to fight by herself with the escort. It had gone well, very well indeed. She had hidden many extra wands and various metal objects in her cloths and shoes to be able to defend herself.
She would never forget the faces of the Death eaters as one of her wands taken another one suddenly appeared from under her coat. And even strapped from her five wands, she still had managed to freak out the second battalion of Death eaters with the metal spikes she had charmed to come out on command.
The crystal cage was useful as long as the prisoner was inside it; when outside of the cage it had no effect whatsoever on people anymore.
A well placed curse drained the energy from her body. Two scrawny teenagers dragged her to an old house on the top of a hill in the middle of a forest. Hermione wondered if the place could have looked even more like a cliché. It was a dark, old, murky house on the top of a hill, in the middle of a forest, surrounded by a river, a long way from everything.
But as she had been presented to the eldest and most prestigious Death Eaters, the Old Ones (Snape explained every thing about the hierarchy among the Death eaters), she slowly started to get doubts about the fool proofness of the plan.
Some thing was bound to go wrong. Very, very wrong.
But Hermione didn't know when. Now obviously two Death Eaters were fighting over her. Charming.
One of them was Tonks, morphed into Snape, trying to get through the plan. It was surprising that no one had wanted the torturing to start. Hermione didn't understand this.
Hermione knew of course of her good looks. She knew she had become increasingly pretty in a non classical way the last six months. She had been a cute little girl; the early stages of puberty had destroyed her baby looks, but now the metamorphosis to a stunning young woman was ahead.
The sports forced upon her had been benefic. Her figure had developed in the right way. In a sense, Hermione was very content with her looks in a dark way: every one who used to call her an ugly, buckle teeth Know-It-All were quivering under the gaze of her golden eyes. Those boys who'd ignored her felt the weight of their loss every time she walked into the Great Hall.
She had the typical revenge of the ugly duckling turning into a beautiful swan. Only swans were evil, nasty animals that would bite you if you bother them, and really, ducklings were as cute as kittens or puppies.
But her looks were complexly irrelevant to the plan. Or so she thought.
Forget it- give me honest reviews. Honest reviews; that's what I want.