A/N: You have no idea how much fun it is to write this story and how much I enjoy sharing it with all of you. I'm so pleased so many of you are still enjoying it. Also, I don't know if you've noticed, but this one is going to be a long ride folks. I've cleared 100k words pre-written and I'm still just scratching the surface. Obviously this fic isn't going to keep to canon, but I would like to note that the Battle of Hogwarts is a no-go for this one, my darling cherubs. I have so much more exicitng stuff planned in favour of a silly battle for one little castle. Voldemort was thinking too small-minded for me when JK wrote him *winks lasciviously at you*. I'm thrilled by how many of you are pulling for Sev in this fic too. But don't worry, the much awaited Draco/Hermione and Rabastan/Hermione chapters are coming (though I'm not telling when). Let me know what you think of this chapter everyone, it's a favourite of mine. They all are, really. Another 10k monster of a chapter coming at you here, but I promise this one is work-safe.
Much love! xx-Kitten.
Fervidity
By Kittenshift17
Chapter 10: Corruption
... "I didn't want to lose you by what I'd done,
Caught in the grey.
I don't want to look you in the eye,
you might pull me away.
I don't want to give you the chance to make me stay"...
- The Grey (Icon for Hire)
Dragging herself down the stairs, Hermione went in search of food. She had no idea what day it was, nor what time it was. She didn't know how many days it had been since she'd been captured by Snape and turned spy for the Order. The Dark mark branded into her skin was ugly and painful every time she looked at it. She'd spent much of the previous day in bed after she'd awoken.
Her body ached and her bottom was sore. She hadn't been able to face Snape and so she'd stayed in the bed, the door to her room tightly closed. She'd grown restless enough after a little while to pick up the books he'd given her on dark magic, pouring through them with her usual fervour. The magic she learned was horrifying and terrible but she knew she would need to know it all at some stage in the future.
Often she found herself scratching at the dark mark branded into her arm. Often she felt a roll of nausea inside herself as her body continued to try and expel the poison that had been forced into her. Her soul was still torn – she could feel it like an aching gash – bound together with dark magic like terrible stitches that weren't having the desired effect. Some more of the blackness bled out of her brand when she searched for food, silently preparing enough for Snape too. She didn't know where he was. She hadn't seen him since they'd showered together.
Instead, Hermione set to work on preparing them both some soup – which she was inexplicably craving. She raided his stores, adding this and that, whatever she found that might make it taste good. She didn't know how long she'd been cooking when she noticed the black ink seeping from the tattoo on her forearm. It smeared over her skin like slow-flowing blood, sluggishly staining the flesh.
Hermione eyed it in annoyance before wiping at it with a cloth she found in the sink. Underneath the seepage there was no visible evidence of a wound or a hole where the ink could be leaking from. Hermione could only ascertain that the poison was simply seeping from her pores like sweat. She didn't much like the idea. As loathe as she was to bear the Dark mark upon her flesh, she didn't want to deal with the questions that would come of it leeching out and she didn't want to face another ritual to redo the terrible magic.
She suspected it was a result of the magic inside her trying to force the evil out. She wasn't recovering as she should, though she was wracked with remorse over the murder she'd committed to rip her soul. She wondered too if being muggleborn had anything to do with the problem. After all, she imagined she was the first mudblood to ever be branded a Death Eater. It stood to reason that her body might reject the magic.
She'd learned through careful research that muggleborns could only be born as a result of there being a convergence of magical lineage in both her muggle parents. Meaning that somewhere in her family tree on both sides of the family, there was a witch or wizard as one of her ancestors. The same anomaly resulted in Squibs, only in the reverse. For a Squib to be born, there must be a muggle somewhere in the maternal and fraternal line of the Squib's family tree. First, second and even third generation was uncommon. Usually muggleborns like Hermione manifested when the long dormant magical gene within her muggle ancestors converged together, receiving one magical gene – dormant in her parents – from each contributor to her DNA resulted in her being born a witch.
It was possible that as a result, she was more magically gifted and also magically more powerful. Hermione wondered if she was powerful enough that her body could reject the magic of another. It seemed unlikely, but she could think of no other explanation. As she fixed her soup, Hermione pondered the merits of the argument, noticing idly that once she'd wiped away the seeping black mess, no more bubbled to the surface in its place.
She cooked carefully, turning her attention to where Snape might be. She'd not seen him or heard from him in a while. Perhaps he'd only been checking on her when she slept. Her bottom was still sore from their shower experiments, so Hermione assumed it had only been one night since then. Glancing at the mark on her arm again, Hermione studied it carefully. It seemed somehow both more and less heinous when it was on her own skin.
She shuddered at the things she imagined her friends would say when they saw it. Ron would curl his lip and recoil in disgust. Harry would look away uncomfortably before breaking something in a rage. Ginny was a curve ball. Hermione knew better than anyone that being possessed by Voldemort's horcrux in her first year had done irreversible things to the girl. She knew too that Ginny would look at the Dark mark on Hermione's arm and while she might look ill, she would be curious.
Not that Ginny flirted with Dark magic. Just that she was curious by nature and her past experiences had made her dangerously curious about Voldemort. And how could she not be? She'd encountered and indeed been possessed by a piece of the twisted bastard's soul. To make matters more confusing, it had been the sixteen year old piece of himself. Hermione had researched Tom Riddle extensively. In his youth, before his death and subsequent rebirth, he'd been handsome, charming and well-liked by many. It was why he had so many followers. Now, people recoiled from the sight of his terrible form and from the evil he unleashed.
But back then he'd been too charming, too sly and too cunning to be perceived as the monster he would become. Hermione didn't like to think about it. In fact she often worked to actively avoid thinking about the idea that Ginny had been a little bit smitten in her first year with the boy in her diary. Hermione felt ill as she recalled too that Ginny was unerringly attracted to Harry. The notion that Harry was a horcrux as well unsettled Hermione.
Could it be possible that her attraction was not actually to Harry, but to the piece of Voldemort that lived inside Harry? She wouldn't knowingly be attracted to him for that reason. After all no one else knew or suspected Harry of being an accidental Horcrux. Hermione only wondered how Ginny's attraction to Harry might change after the Horcrux was destroyed.
Leaving the soup to simmer for a while, Hermione picked up an apple out of the bowl on the bench and walked off through the house intent on finding Snape. She wandered the house in search of him, coming up empty until she reached a narrow room off the basement where he was brewing over a potion carefully.
Hermione leaned in the doorway, watching him. She smiled inwardly when she noticed that her shampoo had clearly done him some good. His usually greasy hair hung in smooth, clean wings of raven black about his face. His attention was riveted upon the potion, his hands working tirelessly as he stirred the potion with one while the other added ingredients. As she looked over his work bench Hermione realised with a start that he was brewing Wolfsbane potion.
She felt a terrible flip inside her tummy as she recalled that not only was the full moon in a few days but also that Ron would now be a werewolf. He would undergo the change for the first time in five days time. Hermione's heart clenched with pity and sadness to know what he would suffer and to know she wouldn't be there to help him through it. She stayed silent as she watched the potions master work.
It hardly seemed real to her that this stern, stoic and intimidating wizard was the same one who'd shagged her into oblivion twice now. The idea that those same fingers that were manipulating potion ingredients had been inside her, tormenting her like a minstrel at his harp and making her sing. The idea that he could be so controlled at all times and yet have unleashed such a frenzy of desire and fury upon her almost made her shiver.
She realised then that there was far more to Severus Snape than she'd ever considered. He was more than a two-sided coin. He was multifaceted like a diamond, glittering in different lights, revealing many different faces and personas. Playing so many different roles.
"You're staring, Mina," Snape warned her in a low, silky voice without looking up from his brewing and Hermione marvelled at his ability to sense her without having looked in her direction.
"I've never watched you brew before," Hermione told him, imitating the tone he'd used, "I've been watched by you as I brew a hundred times, but watching you makes me feel like a bumbling baboon."
The corners of his mouth tipped into a smirk at her honesty.
"Wolfsbane for Draco?" she asked when he didn't say anything else.
"And Weasley and Lupin," Snape nodded, "You will deliver it to them when it's finished."
"You're letting me go?" Hermione asked, "Alone?"
"Are you frightened?" he mocked lightly, glancing over at her for a moment.
"No," Hermione lied, though the idea of facing them after what she'd done did torment her, "I'm just surprised you would let me go to them alone. Aren't you afraid I won't come back?"
Snape smiled cruelly then.
"I know you shall return, Mina," he replied, "You are not the same girl you were four days ago. You will return. And quickly, I imagine."
"What makes you think so?" Hermione asked nervously.
"I've seen inside your mind," he told her, "I've been inside your body. You will not be able to face them as Hermione Granger and simply enjoy their company ever again. You are tainted now. As I am. As the others who bear this mark are."
He nodded to the Dark Mark revealed on his arm where he'd rolled up his sleeves.
"You are no longer fit to sit in their self-righteous company and you know it. You will make excuses, at first, but you will be back here within an hour or two of leaving. I do not doubt it," Snape told her softly and Hermione realised with the tinkle of an hourglass that the potion was complete.
He stepped back from the cauldron slowly, ceasing his stirring and looking at her shrewdly.
"They're my friends," Hermione protested.
"Of course they are," he agreed, staring at her and making Hermione nervous, "But what might your friends say if they ever learned you've sucked my cock? If they ever learned you'd snogged Draco Malfoy, what would they do? Do you think they would look at you the same? If they knew what you'd been forced to endure, would they still be comfortable in your presence? You forget, Mina, that you are now a murderer."
"I could never forget that," Hermione argued coldly, her eyes hardening as she glared at him.
"Take these to the Order then," he shrugged waving his wand and causing ten beakers worth of potions to fill some large phials, "One for every remaining day preceding the full moon for Lupin and for Weasley. You will find they are all still at the Burrow."
He shrank the containers and levitated them into a small basket, which he handed to her.
"How do I get back here without you?" Hermione asked, accepting the basket carefully.
"Apparate to Spinner's End in Cokeworth. I will find you," he informed her, a cruel smile playing on his lips, "Oh and Mina?"
Hermione raised her eyebrows at him carefully.
"Make sure you are appropriately dressed. Draco will be here when you return and we will be expected for dinner at Malfoy Manor," Snape informed her and Hermione blanched. The idea of arriving at the burrow in some of the robes she'd purchased for this role made her feel stupid.
Gritting her teeth against his all too knowing air, Hermione snatched the basket of potions closer and spun on her heels. She stomped back up the stairs to her bedroom and stripped out of the jeans and jumper she was wearing. She bit her lip as she looked over the garments she had on hand before glancing out the window to see that it was a hot, sunny day in Spinner's End.
Sighing heavily, Hermione settled on the dress she'd brought that Snape had told her was too short. It had ruffles and was corseted, black and red with a little hood attached, despite the short length. Hermione felt a dark sense of humorousness roll through her as she donned it carefully, lacing up the corset and pulling the blood-red hood up over her hair. She coupled it with her heeled dragon hide boots and she very much felt like a traitor as she dressed herself as if she were going to be attending Malfoy Manor's dark halls instead of the warm and sunny Burrow.
Snape was waiting for her when she came back downstairs and she could tell the irony of her red-hooded attire was not lost on him as she clutched a basket full of goodies and intended to seek out a pair of werewolves.
"I put some soup on the stove," Hermione told him as she stopped to glare at him, "Can you keep an eye on it while I'm gone?"
He nodded his head, his eyes travelling over her carefully. Hermione wondered what had put him in such a foul mood. She hadn't seen him this acerbic and unkind since she'd been captured and it unnerved her. She suspected it might have to do with the fact that she'd taken his self-control from him in the shower and she rolled her eyes at herself over the very idea. He was too proud for his own good, and besides it wasn't as though he hadn't robbed her of her control, inflicting so much pleasure on her that she'd literally passed out.
"Send your patronus to me when you return," he informed her, handing her the green cloak she'd been wearing everywhere. Hermione shook her head, not wanting it. It was much too warm outside for it and she didn't want to arrive at the burrow sporting a Slytherin colour.
"I'll be seeing you then," Hermione told him nervously and Snape's smirk grew wider. She stalked past him and out the front door to his house. As soon as she was on the stoop Hermione turned on the spot and disapparated with a crack.
She landed on the outskirts of the Burrow's wards, striding across it carefully. She was still able to cross them, having been added to them by Molly and Arthur while she'd been staying there at the end of sixth year after she had wiped her parent's memories. The sight of the mish-mash structure made her heart clench inside her chest and Hermione felt ill as her arm began to throb. It felt heavy, as though the Dark magic she'd performed and the murder she'd committed were weighing down the Dark Mark on her forearm.
She crossed the wards carefully, her wand drawn and ready with a shield charm for the inevitable. As the wards rippled, alerting the inhabitants of the house to an intruder, Hermione spotted movement in the windows and she almost laughed when Harry, Fred, George and Remus came barrelling out of the house to investigate. Their wands were drawn and they all trained them on her warily.
"Hi Harry," Hermione said addressing her best friend first. She cringed at the different tone of her voice.
"Who in Merlin's balls are you?" George demanded, his eyes narrowed.
"Don't be thick, mate," Fred said, eyeing her a minute longer before lowering his wand a bit, "It's Hermione."
"Hermione?" Harry asked, his eyes narrowing and Hermione lowered her hood carefully, revealing her face and hair better.
"It's me, Harry," she told him, "You saw me like this not four days ago!"
"Oi!" Ron's voice suddenly sounded and Hermione looked past the welcoming party to see him limping out of the house as fast as he could. He'd clearly heard them and was hurrying towards her, recognising her while she looked like this.
"Hold on, Ron," Remus caught him before he could meet her, "If you're Hermione, tell us what form your Boggart took in my third year final exam."
Hermione blushed a bit.
"Professor McGonagall telling me I'd failed every subject," Hermione answered truthfully.
"What did Hermione Granger get me for Christmas last year?" Harry wanted to know, still not looking convinced.
"A homework planner," Hermione told him, grinning, "And I seem to recall you throwing it at a wall in a rage sometime later that year when I guilt-tripped your into using it."
"Alright, she's definitely Hermione," Harry chuckled, lowering his wand. As soon as Remus released him, Ron limped to her as fast as he could and threw his arms around her. A small sob rocked through her when Ron pulled her into his arms, pressing her to him fiercely and kissing the top of her head.
She breathed in the familiar scent of him and tears welled in her eyes. She knew that freshly mown grass and spearmint toothpaste scent.
"You smell different," he informed her without releasing her, his nose by her ear and Hermione nodded.
"I know, I'm sorry," Hermione told him, "Snape gave me something to alter my personal scent for a few months so I couldn't be found out as an imposter by those who knew the scent of Hermione Granger."
"Who else would know what you smell like?" Harry asked, frowning as Ron pulled back a little bit.
"Draco Malfoy," Hermione told them honestly, "He's been a werewolf more than a year and according to Snape he used to track the three of us through the castle by scent sometimes. He already confronted me about it and I was nearly exposed when I still smelled a bit like Hermione instead of Mina."
"Malfoy's a werewolf?" Harry's mouth feel open in shock.
Hermione nodded.
"He was bitten last summer, just after being given the Dark mark, as punishment for Lucius's trouble with us at the Ministry. He's one of the two who transformed and bit Ron."
"The other was Greyback?" Remus wanted to know, pulling her into an embrace while Harry was still too shocked.
"Of course," Hermione nodded, "He can control the others into transforming without the full moon, though I don't know how. Yet."
"What are you doing here, Hermione?" Ron asked bluntly when the others had shared a hug with her too, making Hermione all the more uncomfortable. Snape was right. She felt unworthy of their company.
"Snape sent me with these," she hefted the basket carefully.
"You look like Little Red Riding Hood in those clothes carrying a basket," Harry informed her dryly, looking over her carefully.
Before Hermione could think better of it, a dark humour slipped through her again as she turned to Ron and said, "Want to be my Big Bad Wolf?"
She clapped her hand over her mouth in shock at what she'd just uttered. Ron looked bewildered and a little hurt, clearly not understanding the reference but taking offense at being called a wolf. Harry snorted in shock, his eyes widening behind his glasses and a bark of a laugh left Remus. The twins looked as baffled as Ron.
"Too soon, perhaps?" Harry suggested.
"You've been with Snape too long already, Hermione," Remus informed her, a little frown crossing his face as Hermione's cheeks turned crimson.
"It's a muggle fairy tale Ron," Harry explained when Ron simply stared at Hermione, "About a little girl wearing a bright red hood who takes picnic basket full of goodies into the woods on the way to help her sick grandmother – only she encounters a big bad wolf and ends up being eaten by him."
"You think I'll eat you?" Ron asked, aghast and confused now and Harry started to laugh when Hermione's cheeks darkened even further. It was clear that Ron meant it in the most literal sense, horrified that she thought he'd transform and feast on her flesh. Harry's reaction though, and the sultry tone she'd used to asked Ron, had the twins in a fit of stitches.
Hermione was mortified when she found herself all too vividly imagining Ron feasting on her pussy the way Snape had done on the shower floor.
"I don't think she meant it like that, mate," Harry was still laughing, clapping Ron on the shoulder and Hermione blushed beet red at that. Remus was looking on as though he was mildly concerned by this side of her that had emerged. It was one Hermione had never allowed to show through before. Such naughty thoughts had been kept firmly to herself.
Ron's ears turned red when he realised the naughtier connotations of the innuendo and the twins positively howled with laughter. Hermione buried her face against Ron's chest, hiding from them all when he began to smirk just a little bit, his hands coming up to rest on her lower back intimately as he started to chuckle.
"Why don't we all go inside?" Remus suggested, "And you can tell us what Snape sent you here with, Hermione."
Hermione nodded. One arm gripping Ron tightly while she clutched the basket in the other. The twins were laughing too hard to follow immediately and Hermione let Ron lead her into the house slowly. She felt embarrassed over her words and like she didn't belong in their company anymore. She felt like she didn't fit there anymore and she hated Snape a little for what he'd done – what he'd let her do.
"Hermione is it really you?" Molly asked, bustling over when they were all in the kitchen.
"Hi Mrs Weasley," Hermione murmured, engulfed in a hug from the other woman. She was still mortified over her comment, unable to look Harry, Ron, Remus or the twins in the eye.
"How are you, dear? Let me look at you," Mrs Weasley said, leaning back and holding Hermione at arm's length, "Goodness me, isn't that man feeding you properly?"
"I'm alright, Mrs Weasley," Hermione told her, her cheeks darkening again with more inappropriate thoughts about the things Snape had been feeding her. She didn't want to admit to having been under the weather as a result of the Dark Mark ritual.
"These are for you and Ron," Hermione told Remus, turning to him and holding out the basket, "Snape just finished brewing them. Wolfsbane potion."
Remus looked shocked as he accepted the basket. Hermione pointed her wand inside, enlarging the jars carefully.
"What is he thinking sending you here with potions?" Remus asked, baffled, "Not that I'm not grateful for the potion or that I'm not happy to see you, Hermione, but it's not safe for you to be seen coming to visit us."
"I think he knows that," Hermione admitted, slipping into a chair beside Ron at the elongated table and looking around the room, "But I suspect he thought it might be good for me to see all of you… after…"
Hermione trailed off, her mind working to understand why Snape had sent her here. They were right. It was dangerous for her to be seen as Mina coming to the Burrow or fraternising with the Order.
"After what, Hermione?" Harry asked sharply, hearing her whispered final word and narrowing his eyes on her. Hermione's eyes filled with tears then, some of them spilling over and trickling down her cheeks. She clutched her arms a little closer to her body, not wanting them to see. Not wanting them to know about the mark on her skin. The Hermione Granger in her that loved and belonged with these people had been twisted and warped into Mina Graziana and it was clear now exactly what Snape meant to do by sending her here.
He wanted to shatter her hopes that everything could be alright when this was all over. He meant to foist into her face the full repercussions of what she'd had to do. Ron reached for her carefully and Hermione jerked away from him when she realised he was going for her arm.
"Hermione?" he asked softly, reaching for her again.
"Don't Ron," she whispered brokenly, "Don't do it. Not here. Not in this house."
She cradled the limb closer to her chest, feeling the throbbing ache of it through her entire body. She also caught the grim expressions of everyone at the table. She doubted Harry, Ron and the younger Order members knew what was involved in the Death Eater ritual but she got the feeling that the older generation knew. Their looks of masked horror were all too plain upon their faces.
"Oh Hermione," Molly sobbed softly, covering her face with her hands as she cried. Hermione looked around the table at Tonks, Remus, Arthur and the other Weasley's. Ginny was staring at her peculiarly, as though she couldn't quite believe her eyes.
"Why did Snape do this?" Harry wanted to know, glaring hatefully around the room, "Why couldn't he just bring you back here to us?"
"Would any of us have believed she wasn't under the Imperius curse?" Arthur asked quietly.
"He needed to get information to the Order and have all of you trust it again," Hermione disagreed quietly, "He needed to make me a martyr in the eyes of the Dark Lord, elevating his own esteem to better gain information and simultaneously dealing a supposed blow to you, Harry, whilst keeping me safe. There were other Death Eaters after me when I was caught. This way I am actually somewhat protected. As a muggleborn, a smart one, I'd have been persecuted almost as violently as you."
"We were doing alright on the run," Harry argued.
"No we weren't mate," Ron argued, "We weren't and you know it. We were barely surviving. Every day more deaths were happening. More murders. We were living on nothing but mushrooms and moving so often that we didn't sleep."
"We were doing better than having Hermione being a fucking Death Eater!" Harry snarled in return and everyone flinched as he speared the elephant in the room. Hermione sighed heavily, "She's a Death Eater, Ron. They did Merlin only knows what to her and they branded her with that foul insignia and now she'd a Merlin cursed Death Eater!"
"Oi," Ron shot out of his chair so fast that it toppled over backwards as he glared at Harry, "Don't you dare talk about Hermione like that and don't you dare curse in my mother's kitchen, Potter!"
"Enough!" Hermione commanded, as everyone around the table looked shocked by Harry's outburst and by Ron's defence of her. She wondered if any of them were aware of how they flinched at the entirely Snape-like tone in her voice as she silenced them all with a single word.
"Ronald, sit down. Now. Harry, you too," she snapped out getting slowly to her feet and glaring around the table at all of them until everyone sat back in their chairs and looked to her.
"I know none of you like this. I don't like it either. But it's done," she told them firmly, rolling back the sleeve of her dress and revealing the Dark Mark on her arm. Hermione frowned when she saw it was seeping blackness again and she paused to scoop up a napkin from the table, wiping away the ink.
"I am now branded a Death Eater," she announced, "My loyalty, of course, lies with all of you. But for the sake of the part I must play, I will have to make it seem like I don't know a single one of you beyond reputation. More to the point, my circumstances mean I have important information to pass on and forgive me, but I don't give a snitch about your angst right now Harry! They literally have an army. Hundreds of Death Eaters – and that's just those that are branded. That doesn't begin to cover the enormous pack Greyback has assembled or the other creatures and people that are amassing behind the Dark Lord."
Hermione glared around the room, watching the way everyone went pale beneath the perfect imitation of Snape's fierce and silencing sneer.
"They outnumber the Order four to one and they are intending to overthrow the Ministry within the month. They already have a firm grip on some of it, but more will be surrendered or taken by force very soon. We need to move quickly and we need to stop fighting over bollocks!" Hermione insisted, "They plan to install Snape as Headmaster of Hogwarts in the upcoming year – initiating an ordinance that all students of schooling age are bound by law to attend. They intend to make it illegal and punishable for you to be in hiding Harry. They also plan to install two new teachers at the school – Death Eaters both. Alecto and Amycus Carrow, who will be teaching a Dark Arts unit where students will learn how to torture each other and not how to defend themselves against Dark magic. And a class on all the pomp of pureblood society."
"All that rot?" Molly asked, making a horrified face.
"Yes," Hermione nodded, "More to the point we need to move quickly and we need to destroy the Horcruxes."
"Hermione!" Harry shouted, shocked by her outing of the secret.
"No, Harry, enough! This is not the time for secrecy amongst all of us here. Voldemort has made Horcruxes and they need to be destroyed. We need to get Slytherin's locket from Umbridge and destroy it. We also need to find the Cup and the Diadem. I believe the Diadem is at Hogwarts, so I will be searching for it while you lot are out here and I'm forced to return as Mina Graziana-Snape."
"And the Cup?" Harry wanted to know, crossing his arms in annoyance.
"I don't know where it is. I imagine that like Riddle's diary, it will have been given to his faithful servants to guard. Which makes me think Bellatrix and Rodolphus. They've been in Azkaban a long time, and living in Malfoy Manor since… it must be in their Gringotts vault," Hermione theorised.
"No one can break into a Gringotts vault Hermione," Bill warned her, frowning now.
"That's not necessarily true," Hermione argued, "It just hasn't been done in a long time. In our first year there was a breach of the vault where the Philosopher's stone was being kept. It can be done. Just by rather unsavoury means," she paused, her mind settling on a theory of how to go about discovering if the Cup was indeed in the vault. Rabastan's face floated inside her mind and she knew she had a goal of what she needed from him, "For the time being we focus on recovering the Locket and locating the Diadem. I'll find out if the Cup is even in their vault before we go trying to break into the most secure location in wizarding Britain."
"How are you going to…?" Ron asked, frowning up at her and Hermione glanced at him grimly.
"I'm rubbing shoulders with Death Eaters, Ron. Including Rabastan Lestrange. I'll get the information out of him," she told him quietly and she noted the way a quiet awkwardness settled over the table. She could tell from Remus's expression that he knew exactly how she meant to get the information from Rabastan. His jaw clenched tightly.
It occurred to Hermione that of everyone there at the table at that time, Remus was perhaps one of the very few with knowledge of just what happened amid the circle of Death Eaters. Hermione knew that during the first war Remus had been sent in undercover to live with Greyback's pack and to spy for the Order. She didn't doubt he had an idea of what it meant to be a Death Eater and Hermione felt ill as she realised he probably knew about how she would be forced to attend revels.
"Is it supposed to do that?" Ginny asked suddenly, leaning forwards and taking Hermione's arm across the table, smearing a little more of the black ink leaking from her Dark Mark. Hermione shuddered at the intrigued expression on Ginny's face and she wondered if the girl was in some way susceptible to magic performed by the Dark Lord. Harry was staring at it intently as well, though his lip curled with disgust.
"No," Hermione admitted, "I believe the fact that I'm muggleborn and loyal to the Order is wreaking havoc with the ritual. It's supposed to have settled itself nicely into the rip in my soul, but it's not binding properly."
She lifted her arm from Ginny's grip, wiping it with a napkin again and not catching the shared look of disturbance that passed between the Order members over her almost distracted and nonchalant discussion of the mark.
"So it's leaking back out of you?" Harry asked, looking horrified.
"I don't know," Hermione told him seriously, "But for my own sake, I really hope not. It doesn't bode well for my continued life expectancy and the idea of enduring what I had to suffer to get this wretched thing all over again is much too horrible to contemplate."
"Why are you dressed like that?" Ron asked, tugging at the hem of her dress carefully.
"I can hardly be seen in prejudice pureblood company wearing muggle clothes, Ron," Hermione sighed, "And I'm supposed to be attending Malfoy Manor for dinner… Actually I should probably be going."
"You just got here," Ron protested.
"Yes, I know," Hermione replied evenly, "But surely even someone with the emotional range of a teaspoon can feel the tension and the awkwardness that indicates I'm no longer entirely welcome here."
She saw the way the whole table flinched at how much she sounded like Snape.
"Hermione, you're always welcome here," Ron insisted, frowning heavily now.
Hermione almost laughed and she realised with a start that her evil wolf was feeding off the fear they all felt over her Dark Mark and her new role in this war.
"Nevertheless, I need to get going. I imagine – barring disaster – I'll be back next month with more Wolfsbane for the two of you," she told them all, gathering herself together. Everyone began to protest her claim that she wasn't welcome and Hermione felt tears prickle in her eyes.
"I need to talk to you three privately," she pointed to Harry, Ron and Ginny before stalking into the living room. Her three closest friends followed her.
"What do you need to talk to us about Hermione?" Ginny asked when they'd all entered the room behind her. Hermione noticed the way Harry and Ginny stood close together and she wondered if they were back together.
"I need you to not return to Hogwarts, Ginny," she addressed the younger girl first, "You won't be safe there. You're the daughter of known blood traitors, not to mention the girlfriend of Harry Potter, and the school will be crawling with Death Eaters. I can't do all I need to do to protect the student body with you there."
"You just said we'll be forced to return," Ginny pointed out, frowning, "I may not have a choice."
Hermione sighed, "Then I need you to hate me," she told the girl, "You can't look at me in shock or surprise for the things I will say and the things I will be doing. You can't try to drag me into alcoves or broom cupboards for secret chats or to cuss me out for what I'll be doing."
Ginny looked affronted and Hermione realised she was going to have problems with the younger girl at a later date.
"But I…" Ginny protested.
"Ginny, you don't know me," Hermione warned, her eyes flashing, "You don't know Mina Graziana-Snape. You don't get a say in what she does. You can disparage what I'll do loudly – in fact, the more distaste you show me at Hogwarts the better – but you need to understand that there are things I must do that Hermione Granger would never do. Things I can't do as Hermione. And some of those things are going to hurt you. They'll disgust you. You'll think terribly of me. I do them all for the sake of the role, but I imagine that by the time this war is through, you and I will no longer be friends when you experience how dreadful Mina can be…. That goes for all of you."
She swept her gaze to Harry and Ron.
"We'll always love you, Hermione," Ron argued, "I will."
"You say that now, Ron," Hermione told him softly, "But if I told you some of the things I've already had to do, you'd never speak to me again."
Ron froze at her words, his eyes widening.
"Ginny, I need to talk to Harry and Ron in private now," Hermione told the red-haired girl sternly rather than elaborating. Ginny narrowed her eyes in annoyance over being dismissed, but she stomped out of the room.
When she was gone Hermione cast a muffling charm, knowing Ginny would be in the hall outside, trying to eavesdrop.
"You can't take her hunting Horcruxes with you," Hermione told the boys sternly when it was done, "She's too susceptible to them after Riddle's diary. I also need you to infiltrate the Ministry with the help of as many of the Order as possible. Snape and I will be working in the coming month on creating havoc amongst the Death Eaters that are running things at the Ministry. You need to take advantage of it to get in and get that locket. If I can get it, I will and I'll destroy it, but if you haven't heard from me within the next three weeks, assume I've failed. So as we decided, use Polyjuice potion to get you in. Don't dally about, just grab it and get out. If you need to harm Death Eaters or people under their control, you cannot hesitate to do so."
"You killed someone, didn't you?" Harry asked her then, his shrewd eyes assessing her through the lenses of his spectacles.
"Yes," she admitted coldly, "I had to stand before the entire Death Eater court when they dragged a tortured and terrified muggleborn wizard into the room. He'd been tortured so long that he'd messed himself. He begged me for his life. And in front of the Dark Lord – with Tom Riddle lurking right over my left shoulder - and the entire parade of some two hundred branded Death Eaters I was expected not to show mercy or react. He pleaded with me not to kill him. He cried for his mother. And I had to kill him."
Ron blanched at the cold detachment in her voice and Harry continued to eye her with an angry expression.
"You're not the Hermione we know and love," Harry told her seriously.
"No. I'm not," she agreed,
"You're more like Snape now," Harry went on and Hermione narrowed his eyes at the insinuation that that was a bad thing.
"I should hope so," Hermione retorted, "Since he's managed to survive twenty years as a spy for the Order. The more like him I am, the more likely it is I'll survive this bloody war. Now, make sure you are finding and destroying Horcruxes quickly Harry. Basilisk venom will destroy them. You need to get McGonagall to get you into Hogwarts over the summer, before term recommences to get into the Chamber of Secrets and collect as many fangs as you can. Search the school for where the Diadem could be. Ask the Grey Lady about the Diadem too. It was her mother's."
"Why are you leaving so soon?" Ron demanded. "You're welcome here, Hermione. You know that."
"Not really," Hermione shook her head, fixing her attention on the boy she loved, "Not anymore. I belong with the Order and I would like to think that I am welcome among them all. But I can't belong here."
"Don't be ridiculous Hermione!" Ron growled at her and Hermione caught the flash of his wolf inside his eyes.
"I'm not being ridiculous. Harry knows I'm right. We can all smile and pretend that we're alright with the danger I'm in or with the things I have to do to keep suspicion off of me, but none of us are really alright with it."
"I just don't understand why you had to agree to be a spy," Harry shrugged, "Why did you have to fake your death? For Snape's sake?"
"Look Harry, I don't much like it either, but it's done. When the time comes and this potion wears off it will be plain for all to see that I'm still Hermione Granger – but the girl I have to be to make it that long might not be someone any of us can forgive. After all, I don't imagine you'll ever forgive me for murdering someone," Hermione told her best friend seriously.
"When this is over I will be a murderer too, Hermione," Harry pointed out, "I have to commit murder and kill Tom Riddle."
"Yes, but he's not an innocent man begging for his life," Hermione sighed, tipping her head back and fighting another freshet of tears.
"You don't know that he was innocent, Hermione," Harry argued with her softly, 'Do you know his name?"
"Charles Torball," Hermione told them honestly.
"We'll see if we can find anything out about him," Harry promised, "Look, Hermione I'm sorry for being a git in there. I don't like the way this all played out. You're a Death Eater, Ron's a werewolf and I got off scoot-free. It makes me angry."
Hermione smiled at him sadly.
"At least I can do some good in this role," Hermione offered, "I'll be able to tip you all off with the inner workings of the Death Eaters and their plans. What do you plan to do to avenge my death?"
"You'll see," Ron smiled grimly at that question, "It's all going down tomorrow."
Hermione nodded.
"Look, I really do need to go… I just wanted to warn you that the things I'm doing – the things you might hear about or see me doing…. They're not me. I mean, it's me, but it's not the Hermione you know and love."
"What else have you done that you think I won't speak to you ever again?" Ron asked.
Hermione bit her lip, glancing at Harry. She could see his curiosity in his eyes, but she could also tell he was worried about her answer.
"As a female Death Eater – one of only nine – I'm expected to attend revels thrown by the Dark Lord," she began delicately.
"Revels?" Ron asked, and Harry frowned.
"Like big twisted parties, Ron. Where the Death Eaters blow off steam and…. Well for want of a better word, fuck. My understanding is that a revel involves every perversion you can think of, all of it taking place for the enjoyment of the twisted bastards among the ranks."
"You have to fuck them?" Harry asked, aghast and Hermione nearly snorted at his foul language.
"Yes," Hermione admitted, "It's a requirement of the female Death Eaters to… service… the men."
"You're going to have sex with them?" Ron asked, his voice tight, "Have you already?"
"I've not been to a revel yet. They're not thrown often, but one is planned for next month with the overthrow of the Ministry…" Hermione bit her lip, "The thing I wanted to talk to you both about is that… actually. I, well I… As Mina – a recent immigrant – I must pretend to have no prejudices or hatred for any of the people I'm meeting."
"This is why you're going to Malfoy Manor tonight?" Harry asked, "You're shagging Malfoy.
"Not yet," Hermione shook her head, her cheeks turning red, "But I will be."
"NO!" Ron bellowed furiously, his breathing coming in sharp gasps.
"The person I have to be in this role is not someone I'm proud of Ron, nor is it something I'm particularly thrilled about. But there is nothing for it."
"You could try not going back! You could stay here with us where you'll be safe," Ron snarled, and Harry moved towards him cautiously as though fearful of what he might do.
"That's not an option and you know it. Look, I don't like upsetting you, but you needed to know. As Mina I have a part to play. And that part involves getting people like Draco Malfoy and Rabastan Lestrange onside with me until this war can be ended. I need pseudo-allies in there other than Snape. I also have to do something about the fact that I'm expected to attend revels with the scum of the Earth and smile prettily at the idea of being essentially gang-raped by them."
No!" Ron shouted again, shooting to his feet, his fists clenched tightly.
Hermione glanced to Harry for help but he looked too horrified by her words to be of any use. Sighing, Hermione looked away.
"Look, Ron, all I'm saying is that until this war is over, we can't be together. We couldn't anyway since I have to pretend I'm someone else in the face of my faked death. The point is, the things I have to do with my body to pull this off are reprehensible and unconscionable," Hermione tried to explain patiently, "It wouldn't be right for us to be a couple while I'm forced to do such things. I feel like enough of a traitor as it is without adding being a cheating girlfriend to my list of sins."
"In other words you're breaking up with me to fuck cunts like Malfoy?" Ron spat venomously and Hermione recoiled from him slightly. She felt the prickle of tears in her eyes.
"Unfortunately Ron, fucking cunts like Malfoy will be one of the least reprehensible things I'll have to do with my body in the coming months," Hermione retorted coldly, reaching for Mina inside her head, knowing she was going to need a strength that the goodness inside her didn't have, in order to break his heart.
"Meaning?" Ron snarled.
"Meaning I have to fuck all of them Ron," Hermione hissed at him, her eyes flashing with annoyance, "I already tried to kill Bellatrix Lestrange on my first arrival, whilst you were unconscious. At some stage the Dark Lord and his cronies will think it delightful to insist that I shag Rodolphus Lestrange – most likely while Bellatrix is forced to watch. You were witness to me wretching violently as Fenrir Greyback feasted on a human corpse believed to be me. At some stage they will make me fuck him too. And given the animosity between me and Bellatrix, Snape believes – being the perverted males they all are – that eventually I will also have to fuck Bellatrix Lestrange. People like Antonin Dolohov – the man who nearly killed me two years ago – will be vying for the chance to shag me. And I have to sit there and pretend I don't know how cruel and foul they all are."
Ron looked like he was going to have an aneurysm and Harry looked like he was going to vomit.
"To make matters worse they believe I am the illegitimate teenage daughter of Severus Snape – a man notorious for spiting others and getting away mostly unscathed. Do you truly imagine they aren't all going to do whatever they can to force themselves upon me as a means of getting back at Snape?" Hermione demanded, "Trust me, Ronald. One of the least abhorrent things I will be forced to do in the role of Mina will be dealing with Draco Malfoy."
"Then why the fuck are you going back there?" Ron demanded furiously, looking forlorn.
"What choice do I have?" Hermione spat, "If I don't then people will die. Don't you understand that? If I stay here and try being the same old Hermione, I put all of you in danger. I have this foul thing branded into my skin like a neon sign showing all who see it that I'm a Death Eater. I killed a man. I signed up with the reprehensible wretches of this world. If they find out I duped them – that I'm just a know-it-all mudblood who happens to be Harry Potter's best friend – what do you think they'll do to me? What do you think they'll do to you? They'll rain fury down on this house until there is nothing but rubble and pieces of bodies left."
"As opposed to what they'll do to you if you return? I think I'd prefer death than being fucked by the likes of them," Ron snapped, running his hand through his hair. Hermione could see the way it was shaking.
"Ron you've already been caught by them once," Hermione reminded him, "You've seen just a glimpse of what they're capable of. What do you imagine the likes of those foul people would do to someone like Ginny – Harry Potter's girlfriend – if they could track me here and find all of you? What about your mother? She's had seven children, Ron. They'll use her like a blow-up doll and sneer at how she must like being shagged so often otherwise she wouldn't have so many kids."
"Don't you dare talk about my mother like that!" Ron snarled, his eyes flashing at her.
"You know that's not what I think, you idiot!" Hermione snapped, "But these aren't nice people Ron. They're not decent. They're monsters. And if I stay here they will hunt us all down and do all that and much worse. Snape informs me that some of them don't much care about the gender of whomever they rape. Do you want that?"
Ron blanched at that and Harry dropped into the nearest chair, as though he was subconsciously trying to protect his bottom from her scenario. If it weren't so dire a conversation, Hermione might have giggled at his response.
"That's what they're going to do to you, Hermione," Ron informed her, "Do you want that? I can imagine the types of things they'll gleefully do to you."
"Of course it's not what I want, Ron," Hermine rolled her eyes, "But there is little choice left now. I will escape the worst of it when I return to Hogwarts, of course, but until September I am essentially at their mercy. Not that they're going to be allowed to just strap me to a bed and use me like a doormat, but there will be certain things expected of me…. My point is that in order to effectively be Mina Graziana-Snape, daughter of Severus Snape and recent initiate into the ranks of the Death Eaters, I have to do things, say things and endure things that will sicken all of us. And I have to do it without worrying about how you lot will be reacting to it and without it looking like you or your opinions of me matter."
Hermione took a deep breath and squared her shoulders.
"And I have to go," she said when the silence stretched uncomfortably. Harry looked angry and forlorn. Ron looked like he might cry and he was trembling with rage that he was trying to control. Hermione knew it was costing them both something terrible to refrain from grabbing her and carting her upstairs to lock her up somewhere safe where no one could hurt her.
But Hermione knew that would be futile. If they tried all of them would be dead inside of a week. And as unthinkable as it might be and distasteful as some of the things in her role might prove, Hermione knew she could do more good by taking the ranks apart from the inside than she could as a fugitive of the Ministry and on the run from the Death Eaters.
Unable to think of any happy way to bid both boys goodbye, Hermione bit her lip, wiped a stray tear from her cheek and left the room. Ginny was loitering in the hall on the way to the kitchen.
"You broke up with him, didn't you?" she asked quietly, her voice mildly accusing.
"Would you prefer I undertake the task of fucking others for my survival while still dating your brother?" Hermione asked, horrified by her own cold tone and her own blunt and scathing question.
Ginny's eyes widened in shock at her demeanour and Hermione knew she really needed to go. She was going to lose control of herself if she stayed any longer. The urge to do right by her friends and to save them all – herself included – from this pain was strong. She knew if she didn't get out of there she was going to break down and beg them to hide her. To protect her. To forgive the things she had already done as Mina Graziana-Snape.
"Yeah," Hermione said scathingly, as she scanned Ginny's face, "I didn't think so…. I hope I don't see you at Hogwarts, Ginny. You aren't going to like the person I'll be by then."
Squeezing her friend's arm lightly, Hermione continued on through the house and into the kitchen. Inside, many of the adults were sitting quietly and looking worried. Hermione didn't blame them.
"If I can, I will be back with more potion for you next month," Hermione told Remus, focusing her attention on the man and feeling unable to face the other Order members sitting in the kitchen, "If I can't come in person, I'll owl them. If you don't hear from me or Snape by next month's full moon, assume the worst."
"Hermione, wait…." Remus said, getting to his feet and moving towards her as though he meant to stop her.
"Hermione Granger is dead, Remus," Hermione told him in the same cold tone she'd used when speaking to Ginny, "I can't do what I have to do now while being Hermione Granger… Don't tell anyone outside of this group that Mina Graziana and Hermione Granger are one and the same. If the information gets into the wrong hands, I'll be even more literally screwed than I already am."
Mrs Weasley loosed a soft wail of horror and despair at her words and Hermione felt her heart squeeze painfully to know she was the cause of such anguish.
"It also won't do to have people – namely my teachers at Hogwarts – reacting to me as though I'm still Hermione Granger and not Mina. Keep it quiet."
"And if someone from the Order who doesn't know you identity tries to kill you as Mina?" Remus asked, his eyes narrowed on the idea.
"I'd rather go at the hands of one of the Order than the scum I'm climbing into bed with," Hermione told him honestly.
She made for the door before she could break down, hurrying outside quickly. Inside the house she heard more arguing break out and she could hear the forlorn and rage-filled howl that Ron had begun to emit.
"Wait!" someone shouted from behind her – Hermione suspected it was Harry – but she didn't dare stop. Instead she practically sprinted to edge of the wards before she turned on the spot and disapparated.