A/N: How's everyone? Where are you guys from? How's quarantine at your place? It's been a while since I updated and I'm sorry for that. My life's been crazy even before all this craziness started. I hope you're all doing well. Try to keep entertained so you don't suffer from cabin fever. Thanks to everyone who's still following this story. (Marshmallowman, you know me so well. It is indeed another year lol)

Hope you all enjoy this chapter. It's a bit shorter than usual, but I wanted to post this now while we're all racking our brains for things to do. :) Stay safe, guys!


Chapter 36 - Sacrifice

Severus Snape walked into the Dark Lord's manor prepared to meet his death. When he begged Dumbledore to help him save Lily, he knew he would die at the hands of the man he was betraying. The man he eagerly told an earth shaking prophesy to, one he had overheard in a backroom of the Leaky Cauldron. A half-finished prophecy that later condemned Lily.

He was a rising star in the Dark Lord's army back then, a stalwart lieutenant eager to prove his worth, a powerful half-blood like his mentor. Up until the Dark Lord killed his beloved Lily in cold blood, Severus had been one of his most loyal servants. Although Voldemort's rise to power had been due to his Pureblood supporters, he still kept them at arm's length. The Dark Lord once admitted to Severus that he used them like how a man would use a vicious dog - on a leash and always underfoot. He enjoyed lording over Purebloods and rubbing their noses in his magical superiority over them. Although Voldemort considered his blood status a blemish to his reputation, he still gravitated towards a half-blood like himself and, whether intentionally or not, trusted him more than he ever did his Pureblood underlings.

Severus doubted if any of that would matter now. He had been blindsided by the Dark Lord's obsession with Hermione Granger. It was a new thing, something he had not anticipated or even dreamed would ever happen. And his failure to indulge his master this obsession had put him in a questionable light. He had assured the Dark Lord that she was safe in Hogwarts and had even agreed (under duress, of course) to personally surrender the girl to him. How could he have known that she would be traipsing halfway around the world saving those wretched children? His stomach clenched at the thought. There was only one answer to that question. He should have known.

Why did she have to be a bloody Gryffindor at heart? Why did she have to sacrifice herself to save others?

Like his Lily did.

Fury and regret washed over him in an instant, but he tamped the latter down and focused his energies on the former. It was easier to deal with the anger boiling inside him than his softer emotions. Soft emotions weakened people, and he couldn't afford to be weak now.

They never should have let her go on that mission. She was a student, for crying out loud. She wasn't even a member of the Order! Why didn't they stupefy her like they did the two precious arseholes they were so keen on protecting?

Because they didn't have the chance, his inner voice, the irritatingly rational one, said. Arthur told him how Hermione was able to trick them all, including the most vigilant Auror in modern history. Severus felt a flicker of pride despite himself. Had she not landed herself in such a precarious situation because of that deceit, he would've congratulated her. Very few people could claim the honor of having pulled the wool over the eyes of that lunatic, Alastor Moody.

"I've been summoned," he said, walking over to one of the burly, black-clad figures stationed outside the door of the Dark Lord's study.

Most of the Dark Lord's servants were Squibs, but these two were wizards, as evidenced by the wands peeking out of their oversized hands. Severus did not recognize them, but one of them recognized him, which made Severus wary as he preferred to be as nameless and faceless as possible within Voldemort's army. He wasn't doing this for fame and glory, after all. The man's eyes swept to his companion, who gave him a curt nod. With a short bow, the two men stepped away from the door and pushed it open. After a final check on his meticulously locked mental walls, Severus took a deep breath and stepped into what could be the last place he would ever see.

The Dark Lord was alone, sitting on an ornate armchair, still and staring into the glowing fire. Like the man, this room was dark and cold. The windows were swathed in black damask, like mourning finery. Only the striped silver and emerald green velvet chairs gave color to the place, but not by much. Even the flickering flames in the fireplace seemed tentative in lending its brilliance, as if afraid of being smothered by the darkness.

"Severus," the Dark Lord's quiet voice sent shivers down Severus' spine. Only he was capable of commanding fear with just a whisper.

"My Lord," he said, getting down on one knee, head bowed in submission.

"Rise, my friend. "

He should be flattered by the Dark Lord's words, instead, they were like a noose sliding over his head. "Thank you, my Lord," he said, complying.

"Tell me what happened," the Dark Lord said, his long fingers drumming on the arms of his chair as if itching to cast a deadly spell.

Severus wondered what would happen if he played dumb and asked the Dark Lord what he meant. As one of his top lieutenants, though, he was expected to know things before everyone else. Pretending ignorance would only cause him unbearable suffering instead of the quick death he preferred. "Forgive me, my Lord. I had been lax. I just found out about the passage Miss Granger used to escape Hogwarts. It's now sealed tight."

"A bit too late, don't you think? Shutting the barn door after the horse has bolted, as the Muggles would say," the Dark Lord's chuckle was icy and humorless. "Nevertheless, she's here now, and that's all that matters."

In all his years serving the Dark Lord, never had he been at a loss. Why was he being let off so easily? Was he forgiven? He highly doubted the Dark Lord was even capable of forgiveness. He would be punished, of that he was certain. Only the form and timing were as of yet a mystery, but his punishment would surely come.

Unless I beat him to it.

He quashed the thought as quickly as it came. The Dark Lord's serpentine mind could be lurking just around the corner, waiting to strike. He couldn't risk being discovered before he had the chance to finish what he started.

"I have a new assignment for you, Severus," the Dark Lord said, rising to his feet. He was, as usual, dressed from head to toe in black, except this time, the signature turtleneck had been replaced by a silk dress shirt, casually unbuttoned at the neck with the sleeves rolled up to reveal strong, unblemished arms.

He tattooed his followers with the Dark Mark, yet he never had it himself.

Another way of distancing himself from his minions, Severus concluded. The entire ensemble made the dark wizard look less severe, yet no less intimidating.

"Of course, my Lord. It will be my pleasure," Severus replied.

"Don't disappoint me on this one, Severus. I don't like losing friends."

As if you ever had one, he wanted to bark, ignoring the implied threat in the Dark Lord's words. He was ignoring a lot right now, intent only on finding the opening he needed.

"It would be an honor to serve you again, my Lord," he said instead, bowing low to hide the fire in his eyes.

"Very well," the Dark Lord said, flicking a hand at the door. It swung open to reveal a sight that made Severus' stomach clench, his chance at a swift attack instantly going dim. "I assume you remember my long-lost Aunt and her worthless Muggle husband?"

Severus could only nod, the curse words burning his throat like slow moving lava. The two Grangers looked like Inferi.

"As you can see, they are not faring well. Muggles aren't suited to long periods of incarceration, I suppose."

Not faring well? They look like the living dead! Long periods of incarceration? More like incessant torture, you fucking shit!

Of course, he never said any of that. He pulled his eyes away from Hermione's parents and fixed them on the gloomy wallpaper because if he didn't, he would've cursed Tom Riddle right then and there. And he couldn't risk having the Grangers getting killed in the crossfire. At least, not until he knew what the Dark Lord planned to do with them. Death was a better alternative to endless torture in his opinion.

"I want you to extract every memory they have of my bride," the Dark Lord said, breaking into his thoughts. "Every miniscule detail about her that I can exploit, Severus. I want to know her wants, her dreams, her aspirations, her pet peeves. I want to know her favorite color, what food she likes and dislikes. I want to know her fears, the things she hates. I want to know everything about her before I make her my wife. We don't have much time, my friend."

Those words again! A clever ploy to distract him from the real reason behind this request. "Don't you think it would be easier to get all of that from the bride-to-be herself?" He was playing for time, hoping for a way to get to Hermione before it was too late.

The Dark Lord's laughing reply grated on his nerves. "Sometimes, you make me wonder, Severus," the Dark Lord said, shaking his head. "You, of all people, must know that a person with even a modicum of Occlumency skills can manipulate what a Legilimens sees in their memories. You've been her teacher for many years, surely you're aware how powerful an Occlumens my future wife is."

"I haven't really tried reading my students' minds, my Lord," Severus replied, feigning embarrassment at the oversight.

The Dark Lord's eyes were like sharp knives slicing through him. "Perhaps you should. Then, we won't have rebels fomenting inside Hogwarts grounds. Or did you think I wouldn't find out about those Weasley brats? They're recruiting from the inside, Severus. Right under your nose. I've a mind to have that school razed to the ground. Who knows how many rebellious cretins you've been unwittingly nursing all these years?" The Dark Lord paused, the smirk on his lips giving weight to his next words. "Unless, of course, you're knowingly nurturing them. Are you one of them, Severus? Do you want to overthrow me, too?"

Ice. I must be ice.

"Are you questioning my loyalty, my Lord?"

"Shouldn't I? If I asked you to take your life right now, would you give it willingly?"

Not before I take yours.

"I have pledged my service to you, my Lord. My life is yours to command...and to take, if you so wish," Severus replied, going down on one knee, thin fingers wrapping around the faithful wand in his pocket.

The Dark Lord chuckled, "Not yet, my faithful friend. Someday, maybe. But not today. Get up, Severus. We have work to do."

Severus wanted to laugh at the word 'faithful'. He slowly rose to his feet, never forgetting to thank his lord and master for his mercy. The words left a bitter taste in his mouth.

For the greater good, as Albus often said.

"Should I start now, my Lord?" He asked, hoping the Dark Lord would leave the decision to him.

"Do you think they can handle it? I don't want them dying before our wedding. That would be a bad start to our marriage."

Severus had to hide his surprise. Was the Dark Lord hoping to have a real marriage with Hermione? What's going on here?

"Indeed it would, I suppose. Perhaps I could let a Mediwitch look them over? Or maybe a potion or two to help them...recover their faculties?"

The Dark Lord's brows furrowed in thought, mulling over his suggestions. "I don't trust Medi-witches. Just give them the potions you deem necessary, Severus."

"As you wish, my Lord," he said, turning to the Grangers. He couldn't believe how this unfortunate event was slowly turning into an opportunity. Mr. and Mrs. Granger could serve as conduits to Hermione. The Dark Lord would never let him go near her, not after she had suspiciously 'escaped' with such ease from Hogwarts.

"I want them to be in top health when they see their daughter. After you have extracted their memories, insert a few that would benefit me. Make them think that I am the only one for their daughter. They must believe that they want this for her," the Dark Lord paused, fingers steepled under his chin. "Find out if she has introduced a boy as her..how do the girls of her generation call them now? Boyfriend? To your knowledge, has she been romantically attached to anyone in particular at Hogwarts?"

A pair of stormy gray eyes and platinum blonde hair flashed in Severus' mind. Good thing his eyes were glued to the intricate pattern of the carpet. He shook his head and said, "I've never heard anything that would suggest it, my Lord, but I will look into it if you wish."

The idea was dismissed by the Dark Lord with a lazy wave of his hand. "It doesn't matter. She will be my wife in less than a fortnight. I doubt anyone would be foolish enough to come forward to claim her, anyway. Not if they valued their own miserable life," the Dark Lord chuckled menacingly.

I could think of one. And he would kill you, too.

"Is there anything else, my Lord?"

"Yes, actually. Make sure that they do everything in their power to convince their daughter to come to me willingly. Their lives depend on her acceptance of our union."

"I will make them do what you want, my Lord," Severus said, despite wanting to gag.

"I really hope you do, Severus. Your life depends on their performance, too."

"Of course, my Lord. I expect nothing less," he said, brushing away the chill crawling down his neck. "May I take my leave now, my Lord. I would like to make a quick trip to Hogwarts to retrieve my potions and start with the treatment of Mr. and Mrs. Granger.."

The Dark Lord's malevolent smile made Severus wish he had Avadaed the slippery snake's arse the moment he laid eyes on him.

This is not good...

"Oh, you're not going anywhere, my friend. I have a fully stocked apothecary and laboratory downstairs. I'm sure you'll find everything you need there. Or if not, then you must make do with what I have. Let's hope you're as smart as I assumed you to be. Otherwise, you're signing the death warrant of three people," the Dark Lord's eyes swiveled meaningfully to the Grangers before finally settling on Severus with deadly precision. "I'm sure you understand what I mean."

Of course I do, you twisted son of a bitch! He wanted to spit at Voldemort's face. I also understand that you must die. By my hands, I hope.

o-O-o

The tension in the room was sucking the air from Sirius' lungs. He had seen Dumbledore angry before, but never like this. And it was a sight to behold, not because the old wizard was losing his shit and screaming his head off. On the contrary, he was as silent and as cold as an ancient grave. Still, his eyes were burning with icy fire, his body taut with controlled power. He wouldn't be surprised if he saw sparks coming out of the old wizard's fingertips. While everyone, from Moody to Arthur were battling to be heard, the old professor was content to listen to the rantings of his compatriots.

When Dumbledore summoned the entire Order to this meeting Sirius had to place a quick extension charm on the house to accomodate them all. Most of the old faces were there—Diggle, Moody, Remus, Vance—slapping Sirius with an aching nostalgia. It was so bad he half expected to see James and Lily bursting through the doors, late as always. There were also the new ones—Gordon Fawley and his son, Emmet; Bill, Arthur, and Molly Weasley (who painfully brought to mind her older brothers who fought bravely during the first war), and his Auror niece, Nymphadora Tonks (or Tonks for short since no one would dare call her Nymphadora to her face). Angela, who wasn't even an Order member, had also been called to attend, proving that Dumbledore was planning to involve the parents of the sequestered Muggle-borns. This made Sirius fear for his cousin. Angela never had the same magical training they did, and even though she had shown great potential and exceptional magical acuity during the short time he had mentored her, he doubted it would be enough. They would be fighting for their lives, and against ruthless killers to boot. He just hoped her role in the coming days would be kept to a minimum and on the safest level.

"Any news about Severus?"

The former Minister of Magic's quiet voice cut through the din, silencing everyone. Moody grunted as he plopped into the nearest chair, one magical eye spinning wildly in its socket..

Arthur looked sheepish as he took his place beside Molly. "He came to the shack. I think he talked to Harry."

"Did he say if he had been summoned?"

Arthur shook his head, "I remember asking him, but I'm not sure if he replied."

Dumbledore sighed, "Tom would be suspicious of him now. He will want to keep Severus close. If he doesn't return tonight…"

The silence that hung in the air was heavy and filled with dark foreboding. Sirius never liked Snape, but he still didn't think his old schoolmate deserved to be tortured to death. No one deserved to go that way.

Except perhaps Tom Riddle. Sirius would happily make an exception for him.

"Are we just going to leave them there? Hermione and Severus?"

It was Gordon's boy, Emmet, who spoke, voice cracking, eyes blazing. The young Fawley had barged into 12 Grimmauld a few hours ago screaming for help, a bloody, half-dead House Elf cradled in his arms. Fortunately, Molly and Arthur were already there, waiting for the others to arrive. Molly quickly took the bloodied elf upstairs, shouting instructions to Sirius, and asking for potions, blankets, etc.. Twinkle, (he later learned her name) had been saved by the Weasley matriarch's unrelenting efforts and was now resting under a powerful sleepless draught.

Sirius understood Emmet's desire to save Snape. He was related to the Hogwarts Headmaster on his mother's side, the Prince bloodline. Plus, he had always been close to the former Head of Slytherin House (That, Sirius couldn't understand). But the main reason Emmet was itching to attack, in Sirius' opinion, was his thirst to avenge his fallen house elf, the one whose body he was forced to leave behind in order to save the other. This, Sirius could not identify with either because the Black house elf, Kreacher, had never been kind to him. He only kept the old coot around out of pity. Freed house elves, especially the ancient ones, often had difficulty finding another house to serve. The other thing the cantankerous elf had going for him was his complete adoration for Sirius' younger brother, Regulus. Perhaps that was actually why he felt a smidgen of emotion for the old, annoying creature.

"We have no choice, Emmet," Gordon said, squeezing his son's shoulder.

"We'll just let them be killed then? You're okay with that?" Emmet snapped at his father, a very uncharacteristic action for the well-mannered young man.

"He is not, but he knows the dangers of taking unnecessary risks," Moody growled.

"Unnecessary risks? Granger is the brilliant witch who created this while still in Hogwarts," Emmet said, yanking a crystal pendant from inside his shirt. "And Severus had been spying for the Order for years, at great risk to himself! Is he so unnecessary to you, too?"

"They're not, but they'd never agree to what you want to do, Emmet," Sirius said, unable to control his own anger. Not at Emmet, but at the helplessness of their situation. "They both knew what they were doing. Believe me, those two would rather not be rescued if it would cost lives," Sirius raised a hand when Emmet started to speak. "I was there when Ms. Granger gave herself up in exchange for our release. And I will forever hate myself for letting that happen. But, if we risk our lives now...rescuing her, then it's like we're spitting on her sacrifice. As you said, she's a brilliant witch. She made a calculated move and we must respect and trust her decision."

"But what did we gain by that, except you escaping your own deranged cousin's evil?"

"Time, Emmet. She bought us time," Albus said, smiling faintly. "Time to execute a well planned offensive. Time to regroup and find the best way to help them."

Sirius was amazed by the old wizard's ability to control his emotions. He had been seething just seconds ago, yet now he was the epitome of calm serenity. Even Emmet appeared to absorb that calmness, the anger in his eyes subsiding by increments. No wonder Tom Riddle feared to confront this man. Albus Dumbledore could appease a raging storm with his mere presence.

"Now, are we agreed on this matter, Emmet?" When Emmet nodded, Albus smiled and turned to the Weasleys. "Molly, speak to Minerva. We must know what she learned from the Parkinson girl. Talk to your daughter, as well. She's a smart one, we must value her opinion. Arthur, you work with Dedalus and Emmeline. Dedalus and I already talked, he knows what to do. Bill, you have contacts outside of England, I suppose?"

"That's right, Minister. What do you want me to do?" Bill said, ignoring his mother's tight grip on his arm. "I've been suspended pending 'evaluation', but I've already cultivated my own Gringotts contacts."

"Find someone who can smuggle Hagrid back from France. I sent him to negotiate with his long-lost giant relatives and he'll be bringing a couple with him. It must be done within the week."

"I'll work on it tonight," Bill said, smiling with the confidence of youth.

"Also, coordinate with your brother Charlie in Romania. Tell him to expect visitors by next week. We're sending the Wilkes family to him. They'll be safer there now that Tom's forces have infiltrated the MACUSA. I believe Fred and George were able to secure inactive Ministry portkeys for them. Don't ask me how, but those brothers of yours are quite resourceful. As soon as Charlie sends confirmation of their destination, you have to break the previous enchantments and place your own. Hopefully, you'll be able to outsmart the Ministry hound dogs," Albus said, eyes glinting over his rectangular spectacles.

Portkey travel was now heavily restricted and closely monitored by the Ministry's Dept. of Transportation. Only Ministry issued ones, or those registered by the users prior to use, were allowed. Anyone caught using an unregistered portkey would experience up to a year of Azkaban hospitality. However, due to corruption, a few Ministry-issued portkeys kept on finding their way to the flourishing black market in Knockturn Alley. Sirius had to admire the genius of the Weasley twins. They would've made great Marauders.

"Not to worry, Minister. This isn't my first time breaking the law," Bill said, chuckling at his mother's shocked expression.

"What about me?" Moody said, glaring at Albus.

"As you know, I'm not...quite well yet. It will mean a great deal if you can accompany me and Gordon back to America. We must help Leo's family and friends escape Tom's forces there and you can provide the protection we need. I hope I can count on you, old friend."

Again, Sirius marveled at Albus Dumbledore's ability to diffuse a volatile situation. Moody could be as belligerent and unpredictable as an old, temperamental bull. By keeping Moody by his side and making him feel needed in the process, Albus had assured the retired Auror that he still had his respect and confidence. Basically the best way to deal with Alastor Moody.

"Of course you can count on me, Albus. I will protect you all with my own life," Moody said, his lips twisting into a macabre imitation of a smile.

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that," Albus said.

While Dumbledore continued handing out assignments to Remus, Tonks, and Emmet, Sirius, catching the eye of Angela, tilted his head at the bar. His cousin nodded in understanding. She swiftly left her seat and walked towards the bar, her ashen face betraying her fear.

"Are you okay?" Sirius said, gently squeezing Angela's shoulder.

"I...I'm not sure if I'm ready for this. I'm not skilled enough and I don't want to be a liability, Sirius," Angela replied, shaking her head.

"You won't be, Angela. Albus will not give you an assignment you can't handle." Sirius hoped he was right. The Order was sorely short-handed while Voldemort's army was growing in size every single day. It might come to a point where every able-bodied member and supporter would be called to active duty, especially if war actually broke out. He could ask Bill to smuggle Angela and her husband out of England, too, but his cousin would never leave without her son.

"Don't get me wrong, Sirius. I'm not afraid to fight. I just don't want to be the weak link. Can you help me train some more?"

Sirius' heart swelled with pride. Angela might have grown up the Muggle way, but she had the ancient Black blood coursing through her veins. Magic was her birthright. And Sirius would help her wield it with the confidence and skill of a true Black witch.

"Of course, my dear cousin. We can train everyday if you want. I already have my marching orders from Albus. My assignment doesn't demand much of my time, so I can be here whenever you need me."

Angela's face cleared, as if a ton of weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Just then, a loud wailing from the foyer preceded the stumbling form of Percy Weasley. Kreacher must've removed the spell Tonks had placed on his mother's portrait. Percy looked a fright. His Ministry robe was in tatters, scorched in several places, but except for a few gashes on his cheeks and forehead, he looked quite unharmed. Molly was by his side in a flash, a staccato of questions shooting from her mouth as she wrapped her arms around her son. Moody exploded from his seat, his colorful curses drowning out the shocked voices of the others.

"What happened, son?" Arthur said, voice cracking with emotion.

"The Ministry is rounding up all suspected rebels. I was in Diagon Alley when the You-Know-Who's soldiers started arresting people. Some of us fought, of course, but we were overpowered in the end. Death Eaters were everywhere, disabling apparition, even disillusionment. They were using the Unforgivables on anyone who resisted. It was a bloodbath," Percy said, slumping into the chair Remus had conjured.

"They killed everyone?" snarled Tonks, her bubble-gum pink hair turning a flaming red.

"Not everyone. Most were taken...I don't know where. Azkabhan, possibly."

"I'm so glad you escaped, son," sniffed Molly.

"I nearly didn't. I was dueling three Death Eaters, getting weaker by the minute. Thankfully, Fletcher saw me and stunned them from behind. We ran together and were almost to the gate when more Death Eaters appeared out of nowhere. It seemed that, unlike us, they could apparate at will. We were surrounded, but we still fought as best we could. Still...they kept on coming...chasing us…" Percy's voice broke into painful sobs. "I tried to help...Fletcher...he said we had a better chance of escaping if we separated. I didn't want to leave him, mum! I didn't, I swear!"

"Of course, you didn't, luv. Of course you didn't," Molly said, cradling Percy's head to her breast, tears slowly streaking down her face.

Sirius knew what was coming next. Glancing at Angela, he saw the same horror dawning on him written on her face, except that hers was probably worse. She had been oddly close to Mundungus. Perhaps because he had been her first contact in the Wizarding World. Or maybe because Dung, as he used to tease the former thief, acted unusually honorable around her, even helping her pick her wand and teaching her a magical trick or two. Sliding an arm around his cousin's shoulder, Sirius pulled her close, ready to absorb the pain that would surely wash over her.

"Fletcher drew them all to him...he made himself a target so I could escape. He taunted them...made them all mad with his insults. I should not have left him, but I didn't know what to do. They caught up with him, cornered him. I saw everything from my hiding place. They were torturing him...five of them...taking turns. They were killing him slowly...making fun of his pain. It was horrible! But instead of helping, I ran! I was such a coward!"

"You couldn't have helped, son. You did what you had to, what Fletcher told you to do," Arthur said, kneeling before Percy.

"He was barely alive when another Death Eater arrived. I didn't see his face, he was wearing a white mask like the others and kept his hood up. But, he must've been high ranking because the ones torturing Fletcher immediately dispersed when he snapped at them. I actually thought he would just take Fletcher prisoner. But he didn't. He killed Fletcher with an Avada."

"No!" Angela croaked, burying her face in Sirius' chest, her tears flowing freely.

"He killed a man who couldn't fight back, mum. It's my fault he died. I should've done something!" Percy wailed, his thin frame shaking with every shed tear.

"You would have met the same fate if you did, Percival. And I believe that Death Eater did show Fletcher mercy. He would've met a worse fate in the hands of Tom, tortured for information until he begged for death just the same," Dumbledore said.

Another wail from Walburga Black's portrait preceded Kingsley Shacklebolt's harried arrival. His face was ashen, but he looked as unruffled and impeccable as ever.

"You-Know-Who had just declared open war. The bodies of the people his Death Eaters killed earlier are now hanging in Diagon Alley underneath an ominous warning written in blood - Enemies of the Dark Lord will die," Kingsley said, shaking his head. "Mundungus was there, too, Albus."

Albus Dumbledore blinked and nodded, his only acknowledgement of the overly-loyal Mundungus Fletcher's ultimate sacrifice. Sirius, despite his admiration for the man, didn't like Dumbledore very much at that moment.

"I cannot go back to the Ministry," Kingsley continued. "Neither can you, Tonks. The Auror Department has been abolished and replaced by an Inquisitorial Squad, headed by Yaxley. Percy, you shouldn't go back either. The Weasleys have been declared Enemies of Wizarding Britain. Arrest orders have been released for all members of the Order, including supporters and sympathizers."

"I wasn't planning on returning," Percy said, his tear-filled eyes blazing with anger. "My place is here, with my family and the Order."

Molly wailed and threw herself at Percy, not from pride, though, Sirius wagered. Every member of her family was now involved in the brewing war. Sirius could only imagine the nightmares she must suffer through every night.

"You don't have to be a part of this, son. Just take care of Ron and Ginny when they come home for the holidays," Arthur said, pulling a gasping Molly into his arms.

"Ron and Ginny are members of the Resistance, father. Even if they come home for Christmas, they will not be sitting on their arses, nervously twiddling their thumbs. They would be in the thick of things, too, doing their part to bring down Voldemort."

Molly gasped and turned horrified eyes at Percy. "Percival Ignatius Weasley! You are not to say that name ever again! And Ron and Ginny are not going to do anything to bring down You-Know-Who! They're not part of any Resistance—"

"Oh, please, mum, we're not going to die if we say his name! And don't bother denying Ron and Ginny's involvement in the Resistance. Unless you're afraid I might cozy up to the Minister and tell him all your secrets. I once was an ambitious fool, I admit, but I am no traitor. I know my priorities now," Percy said, reaching out for Molly's hand. "And after what happened to Fletcher...how he saved me...even though he barely knew me...I'm a bigger fool if I didn't do anything about it."

Yes, indeed, Sirius thought. They were now truly at war and their side, The Order of the Phoenix, had given up another victim. He might not have given a rat's ass about Fletcher, but the shadowy ex-thief had redeemed himself in Sirius' eyes with his last courageous act. Fletcher didn't balk at saving a boy he only knew in passing. They would, indeed, all be fools if they didn't do anything about his untimely death.

If they did, Fletcher, and everyone hanging from the posts in Diagon Alley, would not be the last victims of this war. They would be the first of countless more.

o-O-o

Draco strode down the halls of Hogwarts burning with rage. He left the Manor when his father and aunt felt the tattoos on their arms burn with icy pain, thinking that it was the best time to make his own exit. He briefly wondered why his tattoo didn't burn and surmised that Voldemort must have developed a spell that only targeted the people he particularly wanted to see. Or perhaps his tattoo didn't work the same way in this alternate timeline.

In his current situation, however, it would've been better if it did. As far as he could remember, whenever his father's Dark Mark was triggered, he could go wherever Voldemort was, his tattoo acting like some grotesque portkey. His problem of finding Hermione would've been solved instantly because she would be wherever that evil snake was hiding.

His heart ached at the thought of his girlfriend. She was a brave and strong witch, capable of holding her ground against older and much better trained witches or wizards. Still, Voldemort was a different beast altogether. He had a lot of hidden tricks up his sleeve, things that Hermione probably had never even heard of. Draco's own magic was crackling inside him, raring to explode at the slightest provocation. He could feel a dark rage descending upon him, one he had never experienced before, not even after Voldemort sequestered his home and kept on humiliating his parents. Back then, his rage was tempered by fear. Now, fear was a distant memory. At this moment, he was angry enough to kill.

Even the Dark Lord if they were to cross paths.

But first, he needed to confront Snape. He'd concluded that Snape knew of the real reason behind Voldemort's obsession with Hermione. Draco needed to find out why he didn't tell them. Also, given Snape's position in the Dark Lord's army, he would be able to help him get her back. Or at least he would force him to.

Draco slowly breathed in and out to control his emotions. Snape would not do him any good if he was accidentally killed by his rampaging fury. He must summon the Slytherin in him. A Slytherin's power was in his ability to act with cold, emotionally-devoid, precision. They attacked with cunning, not misplaced bravado.

Only a Gryffindor would run head first into a battering ram, he thought, bitterly remembering that Hermione was a true-blue Gryffindor, as proven by her rash decision.

Stop thinking about that and focus on what has to be done, idiot!

For once he agreed with his inner voice.

He was but a few steps away from the gargoyle guarding the entrance to Snape's office when he heard someone shouting his name. Glancing back, he saw Blaise and Theo running towards him, faces sweating and as pale as the moon.

"Don't go up there, Draco. Snape has been replaced," Blaise said, breathlessly rubbing his chest. Theo was leaning against the wall, panting. They must've been running through the entire castle looking for him.

What they said caught Draco off-guard. "W-what? By who?"

"Alecto Carrow," Theo said, shaking his head.

Alecto and her brother, Amycus, were notorious Death Eaters, made famous by their signature Cruciatus curses. Lucius never liked the Carrow siblings, saying that the two were unsophisticated spoiled brats running amok.

"Where's Snape?" Draco asked, dreading the answer.

"We don't know. There wasn't even a formal announcement, just a framed notice Filch had put up in the Great Hall," Blaise replied.

"Everyone's panicking. Neville wouldn't tell us anything. When we last saw him all he said was to find you and to keep you here, no matter what," Theo said, faltering on the last.

"Keep me here? Why?" Draco said, not liking where this conversation was going. He didn't like stunning his friends, but he would do it if he deemed it necessary.

"Relax, Drake. I think he just wants to know where to find you when things start to get wonky. Most of the Resistance is currently holed-up in the Room of Requirement. We could go there if you want, or we could stay with you somewhere else if you feel like gagging at sharing a room with so many Gryffindors," Theo said, playfully punching Draco's shoulder.

He almost laughed. Leave it to Theo to find a way to lighten a tight-arsed situation.

"Yeah, I don't particularly like having Ginny's git of a brother staring at me like I was the bane of his existence all night, either," Blaise said with a grimace.

"What about the dungeon? Wouldn't it be safer if we pretended like we're not affected by Snape's getting his arse kicked-out?"

Theo and Blaise briefly mulled over his suggestion, then as one nodded and followed Draco towards the Slytherin dungeons.

"What are we going to do? Do you have anything planned, mate?" Theo puffed as he tried to keep pace with Draco's angry strides.

"I'm going to find Hermione," he said without breaking stride. His two companions halted mid-step. Draco realized they didn't know about what happened at the Shack. "I'll tell you everything when we get to the dorms", he said over his shoulder.

Thankfully, his friends knew him well enough to keep their thoughts to themselves and fell in step with him without complaint. They put disillusionment charms on themselves at Draco's insistence and only took them off upon reaching the dungeons. It was way past curfew and he didn't want to chance running into Alecto's people.

The Slytherin common room was deserted, except for Daphne, who was pacing the hard, stone floors like crazy. Her eyes lit up when she saw them.

"What's happening, Draco? Did the Order get to them in time? Are the children safe?" She had ran up to Draco and was talking in frantic whispers.

"Let's go to our room, we can talk there," Draco said, walking past Daphne. He really was in no mood to talk to anyone besides Theo and Blaise, but Daphne was also an old friend. A reliable and loyal friend who deserved nothing but the truth from him.

"B-but...girls can't go into the boys' dorms. We're prohibited," she said, even though she was still following Draco up the boys' rooms.

Theo laughed. "Oh, come on, Daph. You really think a few measly school rules will stop us from bringing girls in there?"

"We might get in trouble," Daphne said, as if to herself.

"Daph, we already are in a world of trouble," Blaise said, smiling down at Daphne as he led her inside the dorm room he shared with Theo and Draco.

"Good point," she said with a smirk.

Daphne was a straight-laced, all-around good girl. They often teased her about how she should have been in Gryffindor rather than Slytherin. Draco, who'd known her since they were still in nappies, had to disagree. He'd seen Daphne's Slytherin side and it erased all doubts regarding which Hogwarts House she should've been sorted into.

As soon as they were settled, Draco told them everything. He stopped every once in a while to answer their questions but before he reached the end his three friends had fallen silent, their faces blank and emotionless. Snakes were always deadliest when laying quiet in the grass because that's when they're preparing to strike.

"What's the plan then, mate?" Theo said, breaking the silence.

Draco turned to Daphne. "Daph, get Tracey and Sebastian, tell them what happened—"

"Tell me what?" Sebastian Daley said as he walked through the door. "I was about to knock, but I heard my name being mentioned and took it as an invitation. Anyway…"

"I'll tell you later, Seb," Daphne said, her eyes conveying the gravity of the situation.

"What brought you here, Sebastian? You said you were about to knock," Draco said.

"Oh, yeah, right. Tracey gave me this. She said Ginny told her to give it to you," Sebastian said as he took a small package from his pocket and gave it to Draco. He noted the curiosity in Blaise's eyes.

It was a small brown box, ordinary and slightly battered. The claw marks around it told him an owl had delivered it. Perhaps a house owl since professional courier owls never leave their mark on the packages they carry. It had been sent to the Weaslette, why was she giving it to him then?

Ginny Weasley, like her older twin brothers, was an infamous pranker. In normal times, Draco would be afraid to open anything coming from the Weaslette. These were not normal times, though, and Ginny, no matter how mischievous she was, would not dare prank him now.

"Are you sure this is for me and not Blaise?" Draco asked.

"Of course, I'm sure. Ginny would kill me if I don't do as told," Sebastian mumbled the last, glaring at Blaise, who was now coughing into his hand.

Draco's own curiosity won out and he quickly vanished the crude wrapping with a wave of his hand. He was so focused on the box he ignored the awed looks on his friends' faces. Non-verbal spells were not as easy to perform without a wand.

The box itself was not special.

Its contents were.

Draco's heart skipped a beat when he saw Hermione's sapphire ring and miniature beaded bag. But he disregarded them for a moment and took out the folded piece of parchment that sat on them like a sentinel. When he read the words, his heart dropped to his gut.

"Draco,

Emmet found these in the townhouse when he went back to get his house elf. He said you'd want them.

After she surrendered, she asked me to tell you she's sorry.

I'm sorry, too.

Fred"

Her beaded bag contained everything she needed to survive. At least that's what she told him when he asked her why she always carried it around.

The ring was his only connection to her. She had charmed their rings with protection spells and trackers. It was what he had been hoping to use to find her.

When he first saw the items, he thought she had lost them during the fight. But Bellatrix said she surrendered and Fred had just confirmed it. There was no fight.

She purposely left these things.

She purposely left them because Hermione Granger didn't want to be found.

She wasn't even planning on surviving.

She surrendered because she had a plan.

She would kill Voldemort herself.

And die in the process.


A/N: Violent reactions? I know you're all missing Hermione, I am, too. But she's a bit silent these past few weeks. I'm sure she'll return with a vengeance soon. :)