Chapter 29

One word.

That was all it had taken to bring the safety of Hermione's protective enchantments crashing down. Harry had carelessly let Voldemort's name fall from his lips, thus breaking the Taboo, and now their tent was surrounded by a dozen Snatchers, intent on capturing them for the bounty of Galleons upon their heads.

Their reward would be a great deal less, and hopefully not worth their while if they were not to discover exactly whom they had in their clutches. Undesirable Number One, a pureblood wizard who was not at school under false pretences, and an unregistered Mudblood.

She fired a Stinging Jinx at Harry, hitting him full in the face, and he staggered backwards with the force it had hit him with. There was no time to do anything else, Ron's distinctive red hair would have been her next target, but the Snatchers had already invaded the tent and were dragging the three of them outside.

As she saw Harry's face swell from the jinx, his features distorted, she knew it had been the right choice. Harry was the most distinctive-looking of the three of them, and his lightning scar was now stretched so widely across his forehead it was almost undetectable.

The Snatchers pulled them up to stand straight, scrutinising their faces.

It seemed the three of them were now lurching from one precarious situation to the next, with increasingly regularity, the last being their recent visit to Xenophilius Lovegood in Ottery-St-Catchpole that had ended in disaster, her own quick thinking being the only thing that had saved them from the Death Eaters that Lovegood had summoned, trying to exchange their heads for that of his captured daughter.

Luna had been taken from the Hogwarts Express on her return to school following the Christmas holidays, Xenophilius had told them, and was still missing after all these months.

There was a series of sickening thuds of knuckles against flesh as Ron shouted at the Snatchers for dragging her so roughly, and received a flurry of punches as punishment. Hermione screamed at them to stop, and was silenced by a huge, hairy man grabbing a handful of her long hair and yanking her head back, forcing her to look at his face. She knew who this foul creature was. Fenrir Greyback, the werewolf who had bitten Lupin and Bill, and notorious for his blood lust.

Greyback ran a meaty hand down her face and neck, pushing his filthy fingers into the top of her jumper, feeling for the curve of her breast. She was revolted, and nauseated bile rose up in the back of her throat.

"Delicious little girl … what a treat … I do enjoy the softness of their skin," he salivated, drool dripping from the corners of his mouth, where she could see sharp, pointed teeth.

Hermione shook with fear, but forced herself to remain composed and calm, despite Greyback's lewd pawing.

Harry and Ron lied to the Snatchers about their identities, and she wasn't sure whether they were convincing enough, as their captors began to search lists of the wanted; witches and wizards who had so far evaded the required 'registration'. Hermione had no doubt that her own name would be on it, as the Muggle-born best friend of Harry Potter, her name was probably first.

Greyback was still painfully holding her hair as he rasped at Ron, who had given his name as Barny Weasley.

"So, you're related to blood traitors even if you're not a Mudblood. And lastly, your pretty little friend …?"

The werewolf pushed his hand fully inside the cup of her bra, breathing heavily into her ear as he searched for her nipple, pinching it hard enough to make her yelp. Hermione struggled, but he was too strong and too large to be anything other than an immovable object wrapped solidly around her. She would not cry, she would not.

"Easy, Greyback, settle down," said Scabior, over the jeering of the other Snatchers who were laughing as he violated her. "First things first, eh?"

Ron was furious and distraught, desperately trying to free himself in an attempt to rescue her from Greyback's clutches. He earned himself another round of pummelling from the Snatchers who were holding him, dark bruises beginning to appear on his pale, freckled face.

"Oh, I'm not going to bite her just yet. A tasty one like this? I'll play with my food first."

Fenrir shifted his hand around inside her bra, trying to bounce her breast upon his hairy fingers as the feral Snatchers jeered cruelly. He clearly intended to humiliate her.

"Who are you, pretty girl?"

"Penelope Clearwater, half-blood," she replied, attempting to keep the quaver of fear out of her voice.

"I'll be checking, beautiful."

Greyback released her with a shove, and she sagged in relief. Another two Snatchers took hold of her arms as the werewolf turned his attention back to Harry, but at least they were keeping their filthy hands to themselves. Fenrir quizzed Harry relentlessly, who was thinking quite well on his feet as he assumed the persona of Vernon Dudley, drop-out Slytherin student, whose father worked for the Ministry.

She felt sick as one of the Snatchers came out of the tent, where they had been searching, rifling through their belongings, holding the sword of Gryffindor aloft. Thank goodness her beaded bag with the undetectable extension charm was being worn across her body as it always was, looking to all intents and purposes like a tiny decorative accessory, rather than a giant cupboard containing almost everything they owned.

The sword, not the sword.

Why had Harry been holding it just at that moment? She couldn't even remember now. Why wasn't it safe in her bag as it usually always was?

Scabior, who looked as if he had once been a handsome wizard, but now looked jaded and had unkempt hair, grubby clothing and an untrustworthy look in his eye, was perched nonchalantly upon a large rock, idly flicking through the Daily Prophet. Clearly, he felt that he was in charge of this little operation, thus giving him time to read the newspaper as his victims were trussed up by the dullards doing his bidding.

"Oi, 'ang on a minute, Greyback!"

He interrupted the werewolf, who up until that point had been buying Harry's story about being the son of an insignificant Ministry worker, and was debating whether to return Harry to his father. Scabior stood up, brandishing the tattered copy of the Prophet. She tried to peek at the front pages.

"Look at this photograph. 'Ermione Granger, the Mudblood who is known to be travelling with 'Arry Potter."

Greyback gave the newspaper that Scabior was holding out a cursory look before crouching down in front of her, so close that she could smell the aroma of fetid meat on his breath.

"You know what, little girly? This picture looks a hell of a lot like you."

"It isn't! It isn't me!"

Her voice came out as a terrified squeak, making her look as guilty as hell. A babble of excitement spread through the Snatchers, quickly becoming a delighted roar as they poked and prodded at Harry's scar, realising that they had in fact captured Harry Potter and his companions.

"I say that's Potter!" Greyback screamed, "Him, plus his wand, that's two thousand Galleons right there! It's all for me, and with any luck, I'll get the girl thrown in."

The filthy wolf smirked right into her face in a disgusting manner, pushing his hand between her legs, thankfully over her jeans, and groping her lasciviously.

"Oh yes, Granger," he leered, "I'll be having this hot little cunt, and no mistake."

Hermione wanted to vomit, right in his face, but utter terror prevented her from doing so. The feel of his large fingers fondling her roughly between her legs was nauseating, but she made no move to fight him off, keeping her composure and remaining impassive and unmoved by his revolting actions.

Both Harry and Ron protested loudly, and were beaten to the floor in return. She winced with every kick and punch she heard land on her friends' bodies.

"You need to warm up, sweetheart," Greyback warned. "I'll be having you whether you're willing or not."

-xxx-

Harry stared unblinking into the eyes of Draco Malfoy as his parents forced their son to confirm the identity of their captives. Hermione saw desperation in the face of both.

Draco was non-committal in his answers, as for reasons best known to himself, he appeared reluctant to condemn them, to be the one who confirmed without question that the prisoners were definitely Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger. Why would Draco be trying to protect them? Was he a prisoner too, just as much as they were?

Lucius and Narcissa became more and more desperate to force a confession from their son, until they were interrupted by Bellatrix Lestrange, who threw open the door of the room and walked towards them, her hard-soled boots marking every hard step across the floor.

"Of course it is them," she spat, dismissively. "Look at the three of them. If it isn't Potter, the Mudblood and the Weasley blood traitor then they would all be in school. Don't be idiots!"

"Bella, Draco has not yet confirmed …"

"Oh, shut your mouth, Lucius. Not everyone thinks the world begins and ends with Draco Malfoy. Open your eyes, you impotent excuse for a wizard!"

The incandescent look that Lucius shot his sister-in-law as she jeered at him would have cowed the bravest of witches, but Bellatrix Lestrange was in a class of insanity all by herself. Her mad eyes suddenly widened in horror as she caught sight of the item that one of the Snatchers was holding.

"The sword of Gryffindor!" she exclaimed, stalking over and wrenching the heavy metal weapon from the hands of the disgruntled Snatcher, who made little or no effort to try and retain it.

"Where did you find this?" she demanded, hysterically.

"It was in their tent," Greyback replied, keeping a firm hold on Hermione. "These three had it. What of it?"

"What of it?"

A look of deranged anger passed over her face, her animated eyes almost popping out of her head.

"What of it? Snape personally placed this in my vault in Gringotts. How did you get it?"

Of course, none of them said a word.

Letting loose with a cry of anger, Bellatrix stepped up to Harry, grabbing his swollen chin with her black-fingernailed hands and forcing him to meet her mad, staring eyes.

She was performing Legilimency on him.

Fear shook Hermione to the core as she realised that for the first time, her Occlumency skills were about to be called into play. She had one chance, and one only, to conceal from this insane, bloodthirsty Death Eater the fact that Severus had delivered the sword of Gryffindor directly to them. This had been why he did not want her to know his true loyalties! But his love for her had been greater than his fear of being exposed. Oh, bloody fucking Merlin, his life was now in her hands. Hermione forced herself to breathe deeply, to find the transient part of her mind that enabled her to lock away her feelings and memories.

Closing doors, blocking entrances – her mind worked quickly and meticulously as Bellatrix moved from Harry to Ron, forcing herself into his eyes and searching his mind. Fortunately, all either boy knew about the sword was the truth, that they had found it in the bottom of a frozen pond in the forest, and Harry had nearly killed himself trying to retrieve it.

Hermione kept the memory of them telling her how they had retrieved it when they returned to the tent, before inserting false details that they had thought it would be good for chopping wood whilst they were camping.

Bellatrix was moving quickly, and had obviously pulled out of their minds prior to watching them smash the locket Horcrux with the sword, otherwise she might have had a few more questions to ask them. That was one relief, at least.

As she stood in front of Hermione and took hold of her chin, Greyback pulled her shoulders back, quite unnecessarily, and moved in closer behind her, meaning she could feel the revolting stab of his huge, beastly erection in the small of her back.

Bellatrix roughly seized her chin, and Hermione met her eyes with defiance, trying to keep her breathing even, trying to keep her defences closed and her false memory projected. She felt the pressure of the witch probing into her mind, not gently and tentatively as Severus had done, but viciously and without care towards anything she may trample underfoot.

She could feel Bellatrix prodding hard against the white mist that covered her memories, giving her only the false memory, over and over again. Bellatrix tried particularly hard to view the place where she had hidden her thoughts and feelings about Severus, there must be a 'tell' somewhere that suggested these were important enough to hide. Damn.

At length, she pulled out of Hermione's mind with a sharp yank, hard enough to make her scream out in pain.

"This bitch is Occluding me! Who taught you that, Mudblood? Why would you, of all people, have such a particular skill?"

When Hermione did not reply, Bellatrix slapped her hard across the face. Ron attempted to lunge towards her but was restrained by the Snatchers holding him.

"Easy, Bella," grunted Fenrir Greyback. "Don't mess up my little treat. I want to play with her after you'd finished."

He encircled her in his massive arms, thick with hair, grabbing a breast in each one and fondling them roughly, a wicked leer upon his face, and Hermione struggled away from him in disgust.

Bellatrix ordered Draco to banish the rest of the Snatchers from the grounds, and Greyback to take Harry, Ron and Hermione to the cellar and imprison them there. There was much disgruntled muttering, for the Snatchers had been denied their rewards, but no one wished to risk being on the wrong end of her merciless wand.

Greyback reluctantly ceased mauling Hermione's breasts and began to push the three of them forward.

"Wait! All except … except for the Mudblood."

He gave a grunt of pleasure, and wiped away the drool that had formed around his mouth, grabbing Hermione around the neck and shoving her over to Bellatrix, who seized tight hold of her hair and dragged her into the middle of the room, pulling out a short silver dagger from under her robes.

Greyback used his wand to project an invisible and irresistible force to propel Harry and Ron towards the door that must lead down to the cellar. Their shouts and struggles were quite useless.

"You'll let me have a bite of her when you've finished, Bellatrix?"

"If she survives questioning, you can have her to do as you wish, Greyback, you filthy pervert."

As they left the room, she was pulled to the floor by her hair, held there as Bellatrix loomed over her, hissing in her face through her rotten teeth.

"I want your secrets, Mudblood. I want to know why you Occlude me, I want to know who taught you, and I want to know why you have the sword of Gryffindor when it should be in my vault at Gringotts. Have you been in there? What else have you taken?"

Flecks of foul-smelling spittle hit Hermione's face as Bellatrix became wilder in her accusations.

"I haven't been anywhere near your vault," she replied, "and the sword is a fake, it must be, since you state that the original is at Gringotts."

"Maybe a little taste of the Cruciatus will loosen your lying tongue," Bella whispered, threateningly.

The loud thump of a heavy metal door closing with great force could be heard from the floor below. Greyback must have shut the boys in the cellar as instructed.

Crucio.

The pain was instant and unbearable. Hermione screamed at the top of her lungs, unable to do anything else but try and scream away this awful, unrelenting, all-consuming agony.

It stopped as quickly as it had begun. She heard Ron bellowing her name from the cellar below, and Greyback had re-entered the room, standing over her with a salacious smirk upon his face.

"Anything to tell me, Mudblood?" Bellatrix asked, in a mock-innocent voice.

"I've told you everything I know!"

"Lies, little girl. I have been inside your mind, and you have much to hide, don't you sweetheart?"

A single tear dropped from Hermione's eye. She would protect Severus, no matter what the cost to herself, as he was protecting everyone else.

"Never," she whispered.

"You don't want a nice chat, girl-to-girl? No? Oh well, better do it my way then."

Crucio.

This time the curse was held for longer, and she felt her spine begin to bend backwards, the agony worse than any pain she had ever experienced in her life. She screamed until her throat could take no more, until finally, the Cruciatus was released.

"Dirty Mudblood. You've pissed yourself all over my sister's floor. I'll have to let Greyback here clean you up."

Before the "No!" had passed her lips, Greyback was on his knees and yanking her legs apart, disgustingly and enthusiastically slurping up her urine of pain and terror from the wooden floor, alternating between that and sucking hard at the crotch of her jeans, stabbing his large, heavy tongue against her genitals, trying to feel them.

Bellatrix knelt by her head and grabbed her hair, turning her face. With the brute force the evil witch used to twist her neck, Hermione couldn't help but throw up a little on her leg. Bella slapped her across the face.

"Scum! How dare you vomit on me? Mudblood filth."

She tightened her hold on Hermione's hair and dragged her face up close to her own, leaving Greyback to keep her legs spread open as he continued to suck upon the urine-soaked crotch of her jeans. If there was ever a moment she had wished for death, it was this.

"How did you get into my vault?" Bellatrix screamed in her face. "What else did you take?"

"We've not been anywhere near your vault, you mad bitch!" she screamed back, her tears now flowing freely at the sheer pain and humiliation.

Shoving the werewolf out of the way, Bella continued to rain down vicious hexes, stopping to interrogate her, and then resuming her torture. Hermione's throat burned from screaming as much as her body burned in pain.

The last thing she remembered clearly was Bellatrix using her Dark Mark to summon Voldemort, a sharp dagger being held to her neck, and the crash of something heavy and made of glass falling on top of her.

-xxx-

Summoned to the Death Eater meeting at Malfoy Manor, Severus was sickened by the punishments being rent upon Bellatrix, Lucius and Draco, for their crime of losing Harry Potter and his friends when they'd had them trapped at their mercy. His fury was a sight to behold, and Severus was fervently glad that he was not the focus of the Dark Lord's rage that evening.

Favouritism counted for nothing as Bella was punished the most severely for orchestrating the whole debacle, Lucius branded as useless for not standing up and taking control, and Draco for being unable to recognise Harry Potter staring him in the face.

Severus was confused by that bit. There was no way that Draco would not have recognised Potter, Weasley and Granger. And he was now taking the punishment for not doing so. Why would the boy simply have not turned them in? Was it a demonstration that he held some feeling of honour, deep inside?

Narcissa and Greyback had been spared punishment since they were not branded with the Dark Mark, but both had been severely reprimanded for their perceived failures. Worst of all had been Greyback's bleating about how Hermione had been 'promised' to him for his role in bringing Potter and his accomplices to the Manor, and Bella had reported how Greyback had been sexually molesting the girl, whilst she had interrogated her, blaming him for her own failures.

If Severus found himself alone with Fenrir Greyback in the future, he swore that he would separate the wolf's body from his cock for daring to touch his Hermione.

In truth, Bellatrix should have blamed Hermione, whose outstanding bravery had allowed her to remain control of her Occlumency shield, even during bouts of Cruciatus and other painful hexes. Her ability to keep her mind closed to intrusion had saved his own skin, there was no doubt about that.

If Bella had been able to penetrate her mind and seen her memories of him, or of their private moments together … he would be down on that floor on the receiving end of Voldemort's fury, probably worse.

At the close of the meeting, Snape was permitted to return to the school and take Draco with him, as the Easter holidays were drawing to a close, whilst all other Death Eaters involved in the escape were confined to Malfoy Manor, forbidden to leave without the Dark Lord's express permission. Lucius was now a prisoner in his own home alongside his deranged sister-in-law.

Voldemort had stationed the Snatchers in Hogsmeade, convinced that it would be Harry Potter's next stop, and he instructed them to capture the trio as soon as they were in sight.

Scabior and Greyback had set Caterwauling charms in Hogsmeade, set to be triggered by any movement out of doors after the curfew they had imposed upon the village. They spent most of their time drinking in the Three Broomsticks, scaring the other patrons away, much to Madam Rosmerta's chagrin.

If Voldemort was correct, then his presumption that Potter would at some point arrive in Hogsmeade surely meant that he would attempt to get inside the school. But when, and for what purpose? Would it be at this point that he would have to face the boy and convey the information that Albus had instructed him to?

Dumbledore had told him that when the time came for Potter to be told everything; that he held a piece of Voldemort's soul inside him that must be eviscerated before the Dark Lord could be defeated, Harry would have fulfilled the secret tasks that he had been set, meaning that after the boy's death then Voldemort himself could finally be killed.

Severus was confused, frightened and full of regret. He wanted nothing more than to find Hermione and run away with her, somewhere they could never be found. But neither of them would do that, and he would not desert the school nor leave without her. He was not a coward. He would keep every word of the vow he had made, through to the close.

Severus could only wait – wait in the gilded prison of his office for Potter's next move.

-xxx-

Hermione was sitting on Tinworth Beach looking out over the grey-blue sea with Luna seated beside her in the sand. They had rescued Luna from Malfoy Manor alongside Mr Ollivander and a Gringotts goblin, as Harry and Ron had found them all being kept prisoner in the cellar. Behind them was Shell Cottage, the Secret-Kept home of Bill and Fleur Weasley, where Dobby had brought them after his daring mission to save Harry Potter that the small elf had paid for with his life.

There was an all-pervading sense of grief in the house, as Ollivander's life teetered on the brink, the disagreeable goblin was healed, and Hermione recuperated from the torture she had received at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange.

She still did not feel quite herself, she was so tired and her whole body ached, but supposed that was a result of the Cruciatus Curse which had been cast upon her twice. Thank Merlin it had not been longer. She finally understood what Neville's parents had been through, to suffer Crucio until it had driven them irreversibly and permanently insane.

How the hell had Severus coped all these years? If she felt as bad as this after her sole experience, she wondered how the man was even still standing, let alone walking the audacious path that he was. She missed him so much that it hurt her heart. If only … if only.

If only, what? She had no idea. If only there was no war? It had been their joint sense of desperation that had led them to one another.

"I am going to return to Hogwarts," Luna announced, suddenly, into the companionable silence between them.

Hermione turned to face the delicate blonde witch.

"Luna, are you sure? Hogwarts, well, it isn't the same place you left."

"I'm not the same, either," she replied sagely, "and besides, Professor Snape won't allow any real harm to come to me. We are safe as long as he is there."

"He protects you? That's not what we've heard, since we've been travelling."

"Oh no, he does. He tries to pretend he isn't, I think because those Carrows are watching him, but he always stops punishments before they get really bad, and he is stern, but fair."

"He is?"

Hermione was genuinely astonished at how Luna viewed Severus.

"Yes. But he always seems sad. Mournful, even. His eyes, they give nothing away. They are like a closed window. It's very difficult to know what he's thinking."

"But yet you still trust him?"

"I do. I don't think anyone else does. But no one listens to me."

The small witch turned away from Hermione and continued to thread shells onto a string, making herself a necklace, as if she hadn't spent the last four months being tortured and kept in a cellar. Luna really was a remarkable human. People should listen to her more. She was very insightful and spoke a great deal of sense, if you ignored the Nargles, Wrackspurts and Crumple-Horned Snorkacks.

-xxx-

On the second day of May, a week after the students had returned to Hogwarts after the Easter holidays, Snape unrolled his copy of the Daily Prophet that was shrieking the headline that the previous day; Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger had broken into Gringotts bank, stolen items from a private vault, and escaped on the back of a dragon, causing thousands of Galleons-worth of damage.

Severus was half-proud and half-terrified.

He suddenly had the strangest feeling that it was going to be an awfully long day.