"...a little rebellion now and then is a good thing..."

-Thomas Jefferson

By the time the remainder of the Order of the Phoenix arrived at Muron Castle - the place was in utter chaos.

Between the shouts of dismay at Draco and Snape still being loyal to the Order and their cause - to the horrifying revelation that Hermione had been captured by Lord Voldemort, himself - to the simple confusion of having too many people asking too many questions at once - Draco was, quite literally, ready to rip his hair out.

"Enough!" He finally screamed, as his wand rested on his throat - amplifying his voice to a disturbingly loud level.

Everyone in the drawing room froze - as though hit by an Immobulous hex.

Minera McGonagall, in particular, scrutinized Draco sternly behind her wire rimmed spectacles.

"Is everyone in this room daft?" Draco questioned, incredulously - walking to the center of the room and glaring around viciously. "Hermione has been captured by the Dark Lord - and all we can do is sit around and argue? We have to act now!" He shouted as he pounded his fist on an unsuspecting coffee table. "Potter has already seen her being tortured! If no one makes a decision within the next five seconds - I'm leaving."

"Calm yourself, Draco," Snape spoke as he made his way to Draco in the center of the room. The Order members who stood in his way parted like the Red Sea to make a path for him.

As Snape came to stand his side; Draco's expression looked murderous.

"How can you ask me to remain calm?" Draco whispered - so that only Snape could hear. "How can you ask me that when you saw Potter's face? The Cruciatus? You and I both know from experience how unbearable it is!" He hissed, "And the duration of exposure greatly increases - "

"Draco," Snape interrupted softly - all eyes of the Order upon him, "What use will you be to Hermione if you're captured? We have to formulate a plan," he said as he turned his attention from Draco to the Order, "We need the Order. Now - more than ever."

Draco looked defeated - a pained expression on his anxious face. But silently, he nodded.

"Malfoy Manor has just about as many secret passageways and hidden alcoves as Hogwarts," Snape said authoritatively to the Order at large, "Nagini could be in any one of those places - and we only have one Basilisk fang."

"Harry could go back to the Chamber and get the remainder of the fangs," Kingsley offered as he stepped forward - though eying Snape suspiciously. "He's a Parselmouth."

"No, Kingsley," Minera spoke sadly, "I'm afraid there is no time. And we can't guarantee that there aren't ambushers waiting at whatever entrance Voldemort initially used. For all we know - the entire Chamber of Secrets could be infested with Death Eaters. It's too great a risk."

Snape nodded, "Minerva is correct. It is too time consuming - and potentially foolish. We have what we need to destroy the snake," he sighed as he pulled the Basilisk fang from his black robes and ran his deft fingers over the smooth surface, "We just have to be smart enough to know where the Dark Lord has hidden her within the Manor's walls."

Ginny Weasley - ginger haired, hazel eyed, and beautiful - spoke as she removed herself from Harry's side, "And please explain why - once again - we need to kill this snake before we run Voldemort through?"

"It's a piece of his soul, Gin," Harry said from behind her, "It's the last piece left before we can - er, before I can, that is - destroy him. Until that's done - he's invincible."

Ginny chewed thoughtfully in her lip as Moody finally deemed himself worthy to join the conversation.

"Isn't it bloody obvious?" He shouted and stepped forward - his artificial leg cracking loudly against the stone floor. "It'll need to be a game of 'who's got the button.'"

"Got the what?" Draco asked as he rounded on Moody.

"It's a muggle game," Harry said as he clasped hands with Ginny, "If the entire Order invades the Manor," he explained, "Voldemort will assume that one - or two of us - has a Basilisk fang. He already knows that we know about the Horcruxes - well, at the very least - that I do. If we are coming at the Manor from all different angles - he'll have no choice but to keep Nagini close - because he won't know who will actually have the weapon to destroy her. He wouldn't risk leaving her unprotected without knowing who exactly had the fang."

"And so Nagini will be wherever Voldemort is," Remus concluded as he wearily scratched his chin. "It is an excellent strategy. Maybe - just maybe - if the Manor is being attacked from all sides - someone will be able to get close enough to Voldemort and destroy Nagini - if there are enough distractions on our part, that is."

"We can certainly take care of the distractions," Fred Weasley said with a smug grin on his face.

"Absolutely," George agreed as he pulled a strange object out from his weathered looking robe. "Blimy - Voldemort won't even know what's hit him. It's quite a shame he won't be living through this, though. This here spray would have made it so that he'd be smelling nothing but skunk spray for a week."

"Bloody shame, George," Fred sympathized.

"I'll be the one that gets to Nagini," Harry interrupted.

"No!" Both Snape and Remus shouted - causing Harry to narrow his eyebrows.

"It's my responsibility - " Harry countered.

"No, it is not, Potter," Snape objected, "Your responsibility is to fulfill that damn prophecy - not to get yourself killed in the process. Someone else will take care of Nagini while you bide your time and wait for the opportune moment."

And as Draco listening to the continued arguing - he fought an internal battle.

He should be the one to take the fang and kill Nagini. It was time for him to play his part. Hermione had done her duty - had played her part - had possibly sacrificed her very life so that the Order and Harry would have a chance to kill Voldemort.

But he could not bring himself to speak.

Because as much as he wanted to help destroy the bastard...he wanted to get to Hermione first.

Was she even still alive?

Her beautiful sorrel eyes - with the tiny golden specks that could only be seen in direct light - would he ever be able to see them again? Her full lips - so soft and tender against his own - but amazingly still - passionate and demanding. Would he ever be able to kiss her again? Hold her?

And then Draco remembered Harry's agonizing face after he had seen Hermione being tortured - and he shuddered as though a draft of wind had entered the warm room and briefly flashed back to his own experience with the curse.

Draco had endured the Cruciatus on three separate occasions. Twice - perhaps surprising...but perhaps not - by his own father, and once by Voldemort - after the failed attempt to kill Dumbledore. Of course each time had been painful beyond anything he had known - but the encounter with Voldemort had been especially excruciating. The desire, the pleasure, and the rage that emanated from Voldemort was worse than the two instances with his father combined.

Oh, Hermione...please hang on.

I'm coming.

And then Draco made his decision.

Hermione had played her part - now it was time for him to play his.

"I'll do it."

Moody, Minerva, and the Weasley twins reacted as though Draco had just announced he wished to join a monastery.

Snape, however, smiled sadly.

And when Draco found Harry's eyes - he saw from him, a look of gratitude mixed with one of slight surprise.

Snape fingered the fang a moment longer and then reached out to hand their last hope of salvation to Draco.

Draco - eyes never wavering - took the cold dagger and gave a mirthless grin to Snape.

"Are you with me?"

Snape's black eyes glittered as he released his hold on the fang.

"To the end."

Hermione shuddered as she looked around her tiny enclosure.

She couldn't be sure how long Voldemort had been gone - her sense of time had been completely thrown out the window - if there had, in fact, been a window. But the after effects of the Cruciatus had been nearly as painful as enduring the curse itself - and Hermione remained curled in a ball, shaking violently, in the exact spot she had fallen when Voldemort roughly dropped her to the floor after invading her mind.

Now that was a sensation unlike anything she had ever felt.

It was surprisingly violating - and frighteningly intimate. Voldemort's invasion felt as though his long fingers were raking thoroughly over her delicate brain. But more disturbing - her most intimate thoughts were exposed - on display and at the mercy of his apathetic, incomplete soul. His scarlet eyes had flashed triumphantly as he dispassionately threw her back to the ground.

"Interesting," he had whispered as he sat erect on his conjured chair.

And then his gaze returned to Hermione.

"I would have never thought that Draco would take such an interest in a Mudblood," he rasped as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully, "I thought you and Potter were always destined to be the happy couple," he sneered - rising from the chair and making his way to the far wall from which he had entered.

And then he turned back and regarded Hermione, "That was certainly...most educational. Your keen mind has many layers - it will take several tries before I will be able to penetrate them all," he hissed and then pack peddled, "...unless, of course, I wanted to kill you - and then I would push your mind beyond any strain it could handle. As it is - you are worth much more to me alive than dead."

And then he left - leaving Hermione crumpled and straining on the floor as the spasms of the torture curse continued to pound her body mercilessly.

In all the dangers she had stumbled upon in her past, Hermione had generally kept a positive outlook. Deep down in her heart - she somehow knew that she would come out of the situation triumphant - that she would survive. Of course - Harry and Ron been at her side - but objectively, her mind could see a way through their challenges.

But here laying on the cold ground, as her body trembled from the strain of the violent spasms, Hermione could not envision herself walking triumphantly away from the predicament she was in.

And how could I possibly?

Who has ever been captured by Voldemort and lived to tell the tale?

Harry was probably the only person that even came close.

And while the despair and inevitability of her fate sank in like a deep red wine staining a snow white carpet, Hermione's thoughts turned - once again, to Draco.

Of what could have been.

When Ron had been killed, she had convinced herself that she would never be able to love anyone with as great of passion - with the fullness of her soul - of her entire being - ever again.

But she had been wrong.

Draco had come quietly into her heart - almost stealthily - catching her unawares.

But he was there.

His unbounded ashen eyes that held nothing back - the gentleness and almost precise way in which he touched her - the smirk that had faded into a glorious smile...and - of course, his fervent lips upon her own. Hermione whimpered softly as a salty tear slid down her dirty cheek - stinging a small cut as she fantasized of what would never be.

Life was so damn unfair.

From having a childhood that had been littered with dangers at every turn - not a true childhood in the slightest - to the sufferings she had endured with Harry and Ron - to losing Ron - to have found Draco and to have opened her heart again - to stand in the dangerous flame of love and passion - only to lose Draco when Voldemort finally decided to kill her - it was just too damn unfair.

Why me?

All I ever wanted was to study - to learn - to bask in the wondrous thing that was knowledge. To settle down and have a family - three, perhaps four children - and to quietly live out the remainder of my life doing research...I didn't ask to be a Gryffindor. I sure as hell didn't ask to be thrown in the midst of all this - this bloody war that has haunted me from the moment I stepped through the doors of Hogwarts. What did I ever do in any past life to deserve this?

Hermione sighed as another convulsion seized her body.

Feeling sorry for herself wasn't going to get her anywhere, she realized. Evil prevails only where there are good men and woman who sit around and do nothing.

And she was never the type to do nothing.

If only I could send my Patronus, Hermione thought as she wearily looked down at the Dragon's Cuffs that still were bound to her swollen wrists.

Just as she was struggling to get herself into a sitting position, a deep crack sounded - and the strange doorway appeared on the far wall from where she was laying.

Sauntering in with all her terrifying madness stood Bellatrix Lestrange.

Hermione regarded the woman with fear as she tried to scoot herself even farther away from the temporary entrance. There was something in Bellatrix's maddening eyes that were even more frightening than Voldemort's intimidating presence.

Bellatrix confidently walked to the center of the small room - her head too - just barely shy of hitting the low ceiling.

"Hello, Mudblood," she whispered in a deep voice.

Whether due to the intense hatred that was laced so keenly within those two words, or because of the after effects of the Cruciatus - Hermione couldn't be quite sure - she shuddered as she pressed her back against the cold wall.

"What?" Bellatrix asked - in a mocked attempt of feigning emotional hurt, "No 'hello' for me? Well, I must admit I'm surprised - everyone speaks so highly of what a perfect little witch you are," she spat with vehemence.

Hermione said nothing - staring back into the slightly fanatical gleam of Bellatrix's wild eyes - trying to control her spasms and the pounding of her heart.

"I'm on strict orders to not kill you," she continued, "...though I don't quite understand why my Lord deems you worthy enough to stay alive in his presence - the filthy Mudblood that you are."

Hermione swallowed loudly as Bellatrix slowly made her approach - almost like a large cat stalking its prey.

"But that doesn't mean," she concluded - her voice deep and her eyes wild with excitement as she bent her head down to Hermione's level, "...that we can't have some fun for the time being."

And then an idea struck Hermione with such force that it nearly knocking the wind out of her - but first, she thought excitedly - she needed information.

"Where am I, Bellatrix?" Hermione's shaky voice asked, "At least give me some sense of coherency before I die."

Bellatrix's thick lidded eyes raised slightly as she laughed ruefully, "You're supposed to be bright, Mudblood. I thought you had it figured out by now," she scoffed, "You're in the dungeon of Malfoy Manor."

Malfoy Manor?

Could it be?

But Bellatrix's stance and expression gave Hermione no reason to assume that she was lying.

All right - that's one thing down.

"And your...Lord," Hermione continued, - probably shouldn't push her by saying 'Voldemort' just yet -, "...he just hides away in the master bedroom with his pet snake all day when there are Mudbloods to be killed?"

Bellatrix gave a low snarl as she brandished her walnut wand, "Where the Dark Lord is currently residing is none of your filthy business. And if you're planning some pathetic escape attempt - I can assure you quite readily that there is no way you can get even close to his presence - your tainted blood would not allow it."

Bingo.

The Malfoy Private Library.

Hermione had tried to access the library several months earlier - Merlin, has it really been that long? - and her blood status had prevented her from doing so. Lucius' obsession with blood purity allowed for only Pure-bloods to enter the area.

That was almost too easy.

Ok, Bellatrix - it's show time.

And at that very moment, Bellatrix raised her ward towards Hermione's chest - preparing to cast Merlin knows what curse - as Hermione interrupted her.

"You know that your Lord said I was the most gifted witch he had ever seen," Hermione said at once - receiving a murderous stare from the crazed woman that hovered over her, "I'm assuming that you are included in that category."

"Insolent Mudblood!" Bellatrix spat as she slapped Hermione squarely across the face.

Hermione looked up as she shakily wiped the blood from her lip with her shoulder, "Did you hear?" She continued with a slight tremble, "That I can do wandless magic? Even your Lord cannot claim to such a talent. Obviously, you wouldn't be able to either."

Bellatrix - face full of rage - bent over Hermione and gripped her hair fiercely as she yanked it upwards, "I may not be able to kill you Mudblood, but I will make you beg for death in a way that you cannot even begin to imagine. You've heard of the Longbottoms, I assume," she spat triumphantly - causing Hermione's blood to run cold, "Their fate will be a fairy tale ending compared to what I have in store for you."

"Then prove you are a better witch than I am," Hermione said confidently as she held up her wrists, "Prove that you are your Lord's most talented servant. Release my cords and prove once and for all that you can truly beat a worthless, pathetic Mudblood."

Bellatrix raised a dark eyebrow but said nothing - still retaining her grip on Hermione's hair.

"You are better than a Mudblood, aren't you?"

Bellatrix's eyes danced with madness, "Of course I am," she said, darkly.

"Then prove it," Hermione pushed as she held her arms out, once again. "I won't even have a wand."

Bellatrix continued to eye Hermione warily, as she trembled beneath the intimidating witch. Hermione wasn't even sure she could stand at the moment - let alone take on Bellatrix in a full-out duel. From what Hermione had seen at the Ministry of Magic - and the tales she had heard from Harry and others that were members of the Order of the Phoenix; Bellatrix was an extremely proficient witch - undeniably intelligent, and nearly impossible to disarm in battle.

Sirius' death was evidence enough of her prowess.

But all Hermione needed to do was survive a few seconds - and then it wouldn't matter what Bellatrix did to her.

Smiling sickly, Bellatrix released her hold on Hermione's hair as she slowly stepped back a few paces.

"You are no match for me, Mudblood."

And then - with a small wave of her wand - Hermione's bindings fell heavily to the stone floor.

Immediately, Hermione conjured her Patronus - nonverbally - and then spoke so rapidly, she wondered if she would be able to be understood at all.

"Draco! I'm in Malfoy Manor - in the dungeon. Voldemort is with Nagini in the private library."

And with a flick of her swollen wrist - the furious otter soared through the makeshift doorway - and out of the Manor.

A bright purple curse flew straight at Hermione's chest - and she only managed to move away just in time - a millisecond later - and it would have hit her. Rolling painfully to the side, Hermione raised her right hand toward the door - muttered a charm - and locked whatever passageway there was that would enable Bellatrix to run back to Voldemort.

Bellatrix looked livid - but composed herself momentarily as she addressed Hermione's trembling form, " Gryffindor foolishness is not to be confused for bravery. You wish to lock yourself in here with me? To be at my mercy?"

Hermione slowly shook her head, "Not particularly," she replied wearily, "But I'd rather endure your presence that have you running off to Voldemort to tell him what I just did. And I'd wager," Hermione added with a slight grin, "That you are not capable of producing a Patronus."

Bellatrix screamed with rage as every curse possible - save the killing curse - flew directly at Hermione.

Draco frowned as he surveyed the forest perimeter along the edge of Malfoy Manor.

Twenty meters to his left, Snape was concealed somewhere within the foliage. To his right - Alastor Moody, Harry Potter, and Nymphadora Tonks were awaiting for the signal from Remus.

And slightly behind him - hidden surreptitiously in the forest - was the entire Order of the Phoenix.

Draco's heart pounded furiously in the cool night as the mist from his breath permeated his still surroundings.

Coming up stealthily on his right, Remus Lupin crouched down beside Draco - panting heavily.

"Everyone is in position," he informed Draco, "There were two Death Eaters standing guard in the eastern fields - but Hagrid and Bill dispatched of them quiet easily."

Draco nodded as he absentmindedly fingered the Basilisk fang in his cloak.

"We have the element of surprise on our side," Remus continued, "We have to use that to our advantage. I want to make sure that Voldemort knows that Harry is here - that way he won't immediately disapparate once we attack. You're going to have to move quickly, Draco - and find Nagini before anything else can happen."

"I understand," Draco said solemnly - though his thoughts were on Hermione.

"I know you must be wanting to immediately search for Hermione," Remus pressed - eerily on topic, "...I can't even begin to imagine what I would be thinking if it were Dora that were in there..." he trailed off - his voice sounding pained, "But I promise you, Draco..."

"We'll get Hermione out of there."

Draco turned so that he was looking directly at Remus.

"Thank you."

Remus nodded as he made to move into position - to signal the Order for the coming attack.

But as Remus stood - to Draco's utter astonishment - Hermione's silver otter flew from the Manor and danced urgently around Draco's crouched form and spoke in Hermione's strained voice.

"Draco! I'm in Malfoy Manor - in the dungeon. Voldemort is with Nagini in the private library."

As Hermione's otter evaporated into a silvery mist - Draco's heart thudded loudly against his chest.

The dungeon.

He had to get to her - she was there - waiting for him to come...he had to get to her.

But as he stood to run through the clearing - the Basilisk fang bumped against his side from inside his cloak - and he stopped, mid-stride.

Nagini.

Dammit.

Draco could not ignore Hermione's sacrifice.

And by rushing straight into the Manor - wand blazing and robes billowing down to the dungeon to rescue her - he would be doing just that. And Hermione would have gone through everything that she had - for nothing.

It would be all for nothing.

So, turning back to the forest and grabbing Remus by the collar - Draco's eyes flashed furiously.

"You get to that dungeon and get her out of there. Swear to me! Promise me that you will!"

Remus' gentle blue eyes remained calm, "I swear to you, Draco." He responded quietly, "I will get her out alive."

Draco's eyes expressed a relief in a manner that words could not.

He nodded slightly, and then Remus raised his wand to the air to signal the Order with red sparks.

"Periculum!"

And then the Order of the Phoenix moved in for the attack.

Sorry about all the cliffhanger endings - but I'll be honest...I can't really think of any other way to end a chapter. But I do promise that I'll be trying to update ASAP! Reviews ALWAYS motivate me to update more quickly!! (Hey, I've said it before - but hopefully someone will catch my drift.) Thanks for all the reviews so far!