A/N: Happy holidays! I threw out my back again.
Hermione stared straight ahead, her expression set in silent determination. She had come willingly, of her own volition, if only because Severus had asked her to. The Dark Lord was furious at how far Harry's Occlumency skills had progressed, but was not blind to the fact that she—that she, Hermione Snape—had been the one to use them to Harry's advantage. She had kept both her husband and the Dark Lord out of the loop while Harry retrieved the Prophecy. If Lucius Malfoy had never seen her, perhaps the despot would never have known. But Voldemort had given Severus a chance to redeem himself for his slip of control over her.
She was to be used as bait.
She was resigned to it. Harry wouldn't see Voldemort's message. His Occlumency was too good, at this juncture. She hoped he wouldn't. She didn't want him to come tearing after her, half-cocked and drunk on nothing but Gryffindor courage. She had known what she was getting into, all these years as Severus's handler and later his wife—she was aware of the constant risk to her life. She wasn't surprised at the idea that it could eventually come to this. It was her fault, really—she had gone soft, careless. This was the price she was paying for that.
Why hadn't she refused? She found herself musing on this, even as she kept her focus straight, refusing to lock eyes with anyone in the room. Was it because she wasn't willing to risk Severus's position as a spy? Dumbledore would replace her as his handler, if she didn't survive this. Her throat caught at the notion, and she barely allowed Selenius to cross her thoughts before pushing it away. Her mind had to be perfectly blank. She needed to be empty, controlled, just in case the Dark Lord or one of his cohorts decided to ransack her defenses first. Bellatrix was certainly capable.
Severus's hand was gripping her shoulder, and she found it a small comfort.
Bellatrix was pacing the room, waiting with eager impatience for their prey to appear. Lucius was alert, still as stone from his position on the balcony above. Narcissa was nowhere to be seen, but Hermione suspected she had been sent to guard one of the fireplaces, much as most of the other Death Eaters had been ordered to. Still others were waiting outside, as though expecting Harry to come flying in on his broomstick to save her. Voldemort had already left the manor, expecting his minions to take care of this errand for him now that he had set the trap.
Hermione jerked up at the sound of a commotion somewhere in the house, and the room perked up like a pack of dogs that had scented fresh meat. Severus's grip tightened, his wand clenched in his other hand as the sound of scuffling and things smashing reverberated ever-louder throughout the mansion.
"They're here!" Bellatrix called gleefully.
Hermione's eyes widened in disbelief. Harry had gotten the message—Voldemort had managed to push through—but beyond that, he'd also come to rescue her? Was he out of his bloody mind?
Oh, Harry…
The doors banged open, to reveal the unconscious form of Rudolphus Lestrange, and three other Death Eaters held at bay by the five armed teenagers. More were coming, surely, from all points of the house, but for now, they could just about break even in numbers. Almost.
Severus's wand twitched upward, jabbing into the underside of her chin.
"Stop or she dies!"
The room froze. Harry's face was red with rage. If Ron had not been so shocked, he might have had mind to hex Snape. Neville's face had gone pale as he realized just who they were facing—the man who had terrified him at school for years, and the woman who had tortured his parents— but he determinedly held his ground. Ginny looked as though she had finally realized that she was in over her head, and Luna appeared remarkably unconcerned.
"This is a simple trade-off," Severus said, tilting Hermione's head back up further. "Give us the Prophecy, and she goes free. Fail to do so…" his fingers danced over Hermione's neck. "And I'll be forced to kill her."
Harry gritted his teeth. "You traitorous bastard!"
"Call me what you will," Severus replied silkily, but Hermione could sense the tension in his body. "But the situation stands as it is—you will either comply with our demands, or be short a godparent. The choice," he said, with an ugly sneer, "is all yours, Mr. Potter. And do be quick about it. We haven't the time for your slow-wittedness."
"Harry—is that—Hermione?" Ginny whispered uncertainly, as the five of them closed in together, as the other Death Eaters in the manor began to appear.
Harry was about to reply with no, but Bellatrix let out a cackle.
"Oh, the little girl recognized her already," she cooed, stepping forward. "I thought it would take longer."
"W-what?" Harry asked, uncertainty warring with fear as he stepped protectively in front of Ginny, not allowed Bellatrix to get closer to her without getting past him, first. "What are you talking about?"
"Did you ever wonder why no one would tell you who she was?" Lucius drawled from above, and their heads snapped up to look at him. The blond man sneered. "Not even her name? As I recall, Severus told us that your information on her was exceedingly limited."
"Show him, Snape," Bellatrix ordered, straightening. She was eyeing Harry with a nasty, mad glint of mania in her eyes.
Snape silently tipped Hermione's head forward. Hermione didn't know where to look, as her husband pulled her hair free of its chignon, causing her curls to cascade down her shoulders, forming a messy halo. Put up, along with the changes age had made to her face, she could disguise herself—but like this, the similarities were unmistakable.
"Hermione," Harry breathed, and Hermione heard the pain and disbelief in his words. "Why—why didn't you tell me?"
Hermione swallowed, and looked away. She didn't want to say it, not now, while they were surrounded by Death Eaters, all of whom would report anything she said back to the Dark Lord when this was over. But Bellatrix wasn't done.
"This mudblood," Bellatrix cooed, "tripped her way back in time and got mixed up in the Dark Lord's circle in the bargain." She wheeled around, and pointed her wand at Hermione, whose eyes widened as she read the words on Bellatrix's lips before she had even cast them. She bit her tongue to avoid screaming, as the Cruciatus wracked through her body, and then slumped over, panting.
"—I said no!" Severus snapped, as she gasped for breath. "I told you not to hurt her until we had to use more persuasive means!"
Hermione saw Ginny and Neville closing in around Luna, as the rest of the Death Eaters finally circled around the door, cutting off their escape, but unable to advance into the room. She saw Harry's jaw set, and then he stepped forward, holding up a pouch Hermione recognized at once.
Harry tipped the pouch upside down, and allowed the steady stream of crushed glass to fall to the floor. Bellatrix's eyes widened in comprehension, and she saw Lucius's face take on a nervous, fearful tic. Severus looked dumbstruck.
"The Prophecy's gone," Harry said, dropping the pouch to the ground. "The only place you'll find it is here, inside my head," he said, tapping his scar, "and you can't get that if you kill me, and you won't get it if you kill any of us—or her. And," he said, leveling his wand at Bellatrix, "you can't kill me until you've heard what the Prophecy says, because otherwise, it's just going to backfire on Voldemort again."
Bellatrix let out an angry hiss. Hermione saw her wand trembling, and knew she was itching to use it. The only thing holding her back was the fact that—as far as she knew—Harry was right. "He dares… he dares to use our Lord's name, defile it with his filthy—"
"Enough," Lucius said. There was a loud crack as he Disapparated, and then he landed before Harry, palm outstretched. "I know you're not stupid, Potter. You must have come with something, if you had any hopes of getting your Mudblood back. Now hand it over, like a good boy."
"Let her go first," Harry said, meeting the elder Malfoy's gaze unflinchingly. "And then I'll tell you the Prophecy in full."
"He lies—he lies—"
Severus and Lucius exchanged glances, and it was clear that neither of them wanted to be the one to take the fall if Harry didn't go through with this.
Hermione closed her eyes. They were at an impasse. If Severus let her go, and Harry didn't tell them, his life would be forfeit. Her wand was in Severus's pocket—she could practically feel it thrumming, calling for her, knowing it was currently in the possession of the wrong wizard, but impotent to do a thing about it. Her brow furrowed. There had to be something… something she could do—
There was a sudden, loud, unanimous cry of Stupefy, broken by Harry's shout of, "Diffindo!" The ropes binding her snapped, and she wheeled up and out of her chair, one hand slipping to the pocket she knew held her wand, the other grabbing Severus's wrist to stop him from casting. Her wand snapped back into her hand, just in time for the room to erupt into chaos.
Spells flew in all directions, and it was all Hermione could do to rub the circulation back into her weak-feeling hands as she ducked and dodged the jets of light. Her fingers buzzed aggravatingly as she jerked her wand at the Death Eaters who had Ginny and Luna outnumbered while Harry, Ron, and Neville tried to hold off Bellatrix and Lucius.
The beam of light that struck Macnair from her wand exploded outwards, and though Ginny and Luna stumbled backwards, it was the Death Eaters behind the targeted students that suffered the brunt of the blow. They were smashed backwards into the wall, giving the two witches the break in ranks they needed. A stunner flew by her cheek, and she wheeled around to face her husband.
It was like the rare duels they once had back in school all over again, only this time, there was no referee, and no friendly apology after someone got sent to the Hospital Wing. This time, they were fighting for their lives, not to win against each other, but to put on a performance—a dance of wands to convince the enemy that they were what they were not. Her hair got in the way, but Hermione had no time to even push it out of her face. She ducked, dodged, slashed, and blocked, all the while searching for the opening she needed to assist her friends—
The sudden sound of multiple apparitions broke the sound of fighting, and Hermione's heart leapt as she saw Sirius appear in a cloud of smoke behind Neville, taking out the Death Eater who had abandoned his wand and was about to pull the Gryffindor boy into a chokehold. Remus and Tonks were there, taking either side of Ginny and Luna. Mad-Eye went straight for Lestrange with startling ferocity, and Lucius scrambled backward, no doubt attempting to escape—
Kingsley and several other faces Hermione didn't recognize at once appeared, but it became clear at once that they were Aurors—and then there was Dawlish, Robards, Proudfoot…
Neville wheeled around, wand pointed at Bellatrix.
"This is for my parents!"
Whatever spell he had been about to utter was drowned out by the sound of a foreboding crack. The walls splintered and shattered, and darkness rushed up from the ground and swirled around the room as the Dark Lord appeared. Hermione saw his red eyes widen in surprise, as he threw himself quite literally into the middle of the fray, and she saw the Aurors' eyes widen in shock as they finally realized what Harry had been telling them all along.
"So this is what it has come to," Voldemort said softly, surveying the wreckage of the room and their law-enforcement guests with red, pitiless eyes. "Such dishabille."
Bellatrix threw herself down at his feet.
"My lord—forgive me—we didn't—!"
"It's him!" she heard one woman utter. "You-Know-Who—!"
There was a powerful crack of Apparition, and Hermione's head snapped around on instinct to see who it was, and if her heart had leapt when she saw Sirius, it soared with relief and hope when she realized who it was. Dumbledore had arrived. Her distraction, unfortunately, had cost her—stars assaulted her vision as a spell threw her headlong into the wall.
"It was foolish of you to try and set such a trap, Tom," Dumbledore said calmly, addressing the enraged Dark Lord. "To bank on someone acting out of love, is to dare them to tap into the most powerful magic known to wizardkind."
Hermione didn't see what happened next, nor was she certain she properly heard it. But she heard Harry scream, and when her vision finally cleared, he was on the floor, and Sirius was by his side, attempting to shake him back into some sense. Hermione leapt forward, and threw herself back into the battle. Sirius was vulnerable while he helped Harry, and Dumbledore was dueling the Dark Lord—but no, it seemed that the Dark Lord had vanished, and all that was left was the Order and the Aurors rounding up what followers they could—
There was a loud explosion behind her, as the ceiling above the doorway was blown apart, a desperate last-ditch attempt by one of the Lestrange brothers. Without thinking, Hermione threw herself in front of Ginny, who was closest to the blast, and shoved her back. A fist-sized chunk of marble hit her full-force, snapping her head back painfully, but Hermione didn't quite register it until she realized that the room was finally—blessedly—silent. She brought a trembling hand to her forehead, and pulled it away, sticky with blood. Her neck felt like something had popped at the base.
"Hermione…" Ginny said in a tiny voice. She placed her hand on Hermione's cheek, and Hermione slowly, painfully turned to look at her, her gaze not quite focused. Harry was forcing himself off the ground—Hermione heard Sirius's exclamations of relief. "Hermione, your face—"
"I—I'm fine," she managed, slowly staggering to her feet, but her knees gave way under her. She closed her eyes, and felt herself growing dizzy with nausea. Ginny grabbed her shoulders, holding her steady. "What happened to Harry, just now?"
"I—I think You-Know-Who tried to possess him…"
"It didn't work," Hermione said, and felt an odd, mad sort smile of relief overtake her face. "Of course it didn't work…"
"No, it didn't." Hermione swayed, and Ginny pushed her back down. "I don't think you should be walking—"
Hermione bitterly reflected that at this point, it might simply be easier to black out from the pain, but she couldn't allow herself to. They needed another pair of hands to settle the mess in the room, not another body to care for. But at that moment, a strong hand gripped her shoulder, and Ginny let out a squeak of surprise—and then terror—as Severus wrapped his fingers around her wrist.
"…Miss Weasley."
There was a loud crack, followed by the squeezing sensation of Disapparition, and they were gone. They landed in a dour, dimly-lit room, which Hermione's eyes dizzily took a moment to adjust to in order to recognize that it was the entrance hall of Grimmauld Place. She stumbled in place for a moment before grabbing the wall for support. Her nails dug into the wood, and she felt herself slowly sliding down.
Ginny's eyes were wide with fright, and Hermione opened her mouth to say something reassuring when the door to the kitchen burst open.
"Hermione—Professor Snape—and you brought Ginny—oh, thank goodness!"
The last thing Hermione saw was Mrs. Weasley rushing forward to pull a startled and bewildered Ginny into a hug. She closed her eyes against the trickle of blood still seeping from her forehead, her head lolled to the side, and finally the rushing sensation that followed her knees giving way.
Please review!
~Anubis