~*~ Three ~*~

Just when she could bear it no longer, Harry's stag burst into view. The glowing animal paused a moment before her, its head tossing to the side as it turned. The Patronus moved slower now, allowing Hermione to keep up with it as they wound deeper into the forest. The twilight had been fully swallowed by the night and with no moon to light the path, the forest was only deep shadows and oppressive darkness. Her skin tingled with the eerie sense of eyes tracking her every move. It felt as if the trees themselves were inspecting her, reaching out with their spindly branches to caress her frozen skin.

Hermione was well and truly spooked by the time the glowing stag led her through the protective wards surrounding the tent. Even with the warm glow of the fire suddenly lighting the darkness, she couldn't shake the overwhelming sense of dread.

Harry stood next to the flames, his green eyes flickering in the dim light. She wished she could be glad to see him, that this could be a happy reunion instead of an impersonal exchange of information. But time had not mellowed his rage and Hermione had neither the time nor energy to mend that wound, if it could even heal. Ron was out of sight, perhaps avoiding her altogether as usual.

"The locket's been destroyed." There was no point in pleasantries, not with such scorn locked behind green eyes.

Harry blinked and for a second the ire was gone, replaced by genuine surprise. "How?"

"Basilisk fang. I have five more for the remaining Horcruxes." Draco had truly delivered their salvation with those fangs. Now it was only a matter of finding the remaining four and obliterating them.

His eyes narrowed as he studied her. "Seeing as how you haven't left 12 Grimmauld Place in the last six months, I imagine Malfoy has something to do with this."

"He got them from the Chamber of Secrets," she admitted. Harry hadn't taken kindly to the news that Draco was helping them, but he was intelligent enough to know they needed all the help they could get.

"Bloody savior of us all," he sniped, the anger returning in full force.

Hermione ignored the comment. "I was able to destroy the locket at Grimmauld Place. Now it's a matter of finding the others and bringing them back to be destroyed too." She sighed. "It's bad back home, Harry. They're rounding up Muggleborns and forcing them to register. Snatchers are everywhere. We need to act quickly before there isn't anyone left to fight for."

His eyes softened as he listened, his shoulders slumping as he ran a hand through disheveled black hair. "I know. We have a lead on Helga Hufflepuff's cup. I'm pretty sure it's the Hufflepuff Horcrux and that he's given it to one of his followers to hide. Not sure about Ravenclaw's object yet, but Ron and I think Nagini may be another one."

It was more than they'd had the last time they met. If they got the cup, that was only three left. "How do we track down the cup?"

Harry's expression was a cross between disgust and resignation as he spoke. "We ask Malfoy or Snape."

Hermione's jaw dropped momentarily, eyes widening. Harry had thrown a fit when Moody had told him about Draco and Snape, absolutely sure that Dumbledore's murderer and his closest accomplice were not on their side. Whatever else Moody had said convinced Harry, but he had never actively asked for them to help before. Not that he could ask in an Order Meeting. No one beyond Moody, McGonagall, Tonks, Lupin, Harry and Ron had been told. There were definitely leaks in the Order and this was a secret too dangerous to let drift through unprotected minds.

"Ask bloody Malfoy what?" Ron had emerged from the tent, perhaps confused that Harry wasn't currently berating Hermione. Or perhaps he'd just woken up. His red hair flew in every direction and he kept rubbing at his eyes.

"Honestly, Ronald…" Hermione trailed off, suddenly hyperaware that she hadn't talked to him in six months and that whatever urge still existed to chastise him was more than likely unwelcome.

Ron ignored her completely, staring with wide blue eyes at Harry, his question still hanging in the air between them. Harry cleared his throat. "Ask him to help locate the cup."

"Why the bloody hell would we do that?" Ron's eyes were colder than Harry's now. "I'm not asking Voldemort's little lap dog for any help at all."

Chilled air slammed into her as the wards cracked, the sound echoing through the desolate forest. Harry and Ron stared back at her, terror chasing away all other emotion. Voices were coming closer to them, footsteps crunching in the snow. Hermione sprung into action, her wand waving at Harry's face in frantic sweeps until the scar was gone and boils coated his skin. Then she turned to Ron, quickly changing his hair to a muddy brown that left him looking more like Seamus Finnegan than a Weasley.

A meaty hand closed around her wrist before she could turn the wand on her own features. She swallowed down the yelp of pain as the man yanked her to him, his breath rancid in her face. "What do we have here, Williams?"

His thinner counterpart chuckled as he grabbed Harry and Ron by their collars. "I think we've caught ourselves a few wild Muggleborns. Best to bring them in, for the betterment of society and all."

The oaf holding Hermione peered down at her face, recognition sparking in his eyes. "Williams! I do believe this is Hermione Granger, Potter's Mudblood whore."

Harry growled, ripping lose from Williams' grip. The thin man hissed, easily yanking Harry back to him. "And might this be Potter?"

Hermione's captor shuffled them over to stand beside Harry, his eyes scanning over the multitude of boils. "Might be, can't tell for sure. Best to bring them all in and let the Dark Lord decide for himself."

Her blood froze solid in her veins. No, there was no way they would survive an encounter with Voldemort. Never mind if they looked like themselves or not, he would easily be able to breach their minds. The cost of that trespass was unfathomable. Not only their hunt for Horcruxes exposed, but also Draco and Snape.

She let out a blood-curdling screech as she pulled away from the men, her wand weaving dark incantations she'd only heard from Draco's lips. The thin man ducked her curse while the other came at her, not with magic but rather the full might of his hefty frame. She slammed into the ground, air rushing out of her lungs.

The man laughed down at her, his smile all teeth. "Feisty one, but you know I like 'em like that."

Both Harry and Ron hissed at that, struggling, but their wands were already in Williams' hand. Hermione shook her head at them; it was no use. Harry's green eyes were suffused with something like regret or sorrow as he stared down at her.

Hermione inhaled deeply as the man unceremoniously hauled her to her feet, cursing Mudblood scum beneath his breath. This was nothing she couldn't handle. She'd been tortured before, she knew the bitter taste of blood in her mouth and despair in her heart. And just as before, Draco's life was on the line, but now Harry and Ron joined him. That would only make it easier to crawl deep inside to the part of her that didn't feel that pain, the part that held on to hope even when she could not.

If Voldemort didn't know there was anything to look for, if they convinced their captors Harry wasn't among them, then they stood a chance. She met Harry and Ron's stares with steel in her own. They would do this because there was no other choice. Slowly, the fear seeped away from the boys until only determination was left. Hermione nodded, the gesture subtle, before she turned away, allowing the man to drag her behind him as a portkey dropped into his hand.

The disorienting journey tore at her composure, but she landed on her feet, flint in her eyes. She could hear Harry and Ron tumble to the floor beside her, but Hermione didn't look at them. She scanned the room slowly, taking stock of its contents. A large mantle and fireplace took up an entire wall while ornate furniture littered the room. It was oversized, clearly the parlor of some kind of country estate. Besides the Snatchers, a handful of men in Death Eater robes milled about, turning toward the intruders with maniacal grins adorning their ugly faces.

There was a commotion in a hallway adjoining the parlor. Hermione staggered, bottom dropping out of her stomach, as Narcissa Malfoy flew into the room. She was supposed to be in France at least, if not another continent entirely. Hermione hadn't risked everything last year only to have Draco's mother still directly under Voldemort's thumb. The air suddenly felt too thin, not nearly enough to sustain the ragged breaths that tore through her. The sudden appearance of familiar silver eyes shattered the last of her control. Her legs gave out, only the cruel grip of the snatcher keeping her aloft. Draco stared back, cruel ice framing his pupils. He would not help her here, his own ties binding him as much as the hands holding her.

"What is the meaning of this?" Narcissa Malfoy managed to sound dignified even with a motley crew of Death Eaters and Snatchers populating her parlor.

"Found 'em in the woods in Romania. They triggered the Taboo. Recognized one of them as Hermione Granger and we think this one," he indicated Harry's boil covered visage, "could be Potter."

Harry clambered to his feet, green eyes spitting fire. Narcissa Malfoy took a step closer, surveying his features with indifference. "I can't tell. I never knew Potter very well."

"But Draco did," a singsong voice called from the hall, sending another burst of chills down her spine. Bellatrix Lestrange. There was no mistaking Draco's aunt's voice, the maniacal lilt clinging to her every word.

Draco's cold eyes slanted toward his aunt as she entered the parlor. She grinned, overly saccharine and terrifying, as she eyed Harry. "Draco, be a dear and come here. I really need to know if this is Potter or not before I call him."

He moved with indolent ease to stand beside Harry. Hermione had never realized how much taller he was than either Harry or Ron. Or maybe that had happened after they'd scattered to the four winds. He loomed over Harry now, his broad chest and toned arms eclipsing Harry's lithe frame. Silver eyes made a show of searching Harry's face even though he must have known immediately the identity of her companions.

At last, he stepped away, shrugging. "I can't tell for sure, but there doesn't appear to be any scar. Looks more like Longbottom than Potter to me."

Bellatrix hissed in annoyance, shoving Draco out of the way to get a better look. "I suppose so. Though I think I know how to determine for sure. Dear, this is your last chance to tell me who you are before I take the Mudblood apart piece by piece."

Harry flinched, but held his ground. "I'm not telling you shit."

"Take them to the dungeons and pay these men," Bellatrix commanded, clearly the highest ranking Death Eater in the room. The other Death Eaters moved toward them and Hermione was passed from one captor to another. "No! You idiots. Take the boys. Leave her for me."

Hermione had known it was coming, but that didn't stop the tendril of fear that coiled in her belly. Every facet of her being rebelled against the prospect of infinite pain, but she held herself in check, forcing the fear down. She would let Bellatrix Lestrange rend her limb from limb and she would never say a word. If she died and Harry and Ron lived, if Draco's secret stayed hidden, then it would be worth every scream, every impossible pain. This was war and she would not cower in the face of her duty, no matter how hard her hands shook or her breath stuttered.

The first attack came without warning, a Crucio to the back. A strangled yelp escaped her as she tumbled to the ground at the madwoman's feet, cackles echoing in her ears. Bellatrix's boot crunched into her ribs, sending her flying across the Oriental rug. Then the pain was back, but she could see Draco now, could see the chaos behind the ice as he held her stare. He couldn't spare her, but he had stayed, his unwavering gaze a promise that she was not alone. She drowned in silver over and over as the tide of the pain rose to impossible heights. And yet, she never lost sight of the silver, never closed her eyes.

When she was nothing but chattering teeth and twitching limbs, the monstrous woman knelt before her, breath cloying Hermione's remaining senses. "I have a gift for you. It will remind you who you are."

Bellatrix whispered a dark incantation as she held her wand against Hermione's forearm. The pain was instant, as brutal as the Crucio had been. Blood dripped on the rug as letters began to take shape. Hermione broke the stare with Draco to glance down at the word forming against her skin. Mudblood. It lacked creativity, but made up for that in cruelty. She found his eyes again, her focus swimming as tears stained her cheeks. Had she been crying this whole time? She couldn't remember, couldn't feel anything beyond the infinite pain, its tendrils burning through her every nerve.

"Give her here." Draco's hard voice cut through the haze.

Bellatrix swam into focus, a smile growing on her cruel lips. "Does Draco want to play with the Mudblood? I promise I won't tell."

"So what if I do, Aunt Bella. He told me to take whatever I want." The sneer on his face was horrifying, a promise of pain. It took her a moment to realize it was for his aunt, but even then a tremor raced through her. Somewhere she knew he didn't mean it, but the pain ravaged girl on the floor couldn't remember that.

"Please yourself, Draco," the madwoman said with a roll of her eyes. Hermione whimpered as Draco roughly pulled her up, slinging her over his shoulder with enough force to make her raw throat cry out again. She caught sight of Narcissa behind them, an appalled expression on her face as her son strolled out of the room, Hermione still moaning in excruciating pain with every step he took.