Severus Snape was a cautious man, and not one caught off guard easily. His contingency plans had contingency plans and it was the only way he'd survived as long as he had. He'd managed to successfully avoid detection by the Dark Lord for years, had been a double spy for decades and had managed to come out of the war with some semblance of sanity. He'd killed Albus Dumbledore. He'd taken over Hogwarts and driven the last remaining hold outs of Dumbledore's army from its walls. He'd proven himself to the Dark Lord and had his complete trust. He was on steady footing for the moment. Or, at least, as steady footing as one could be under the tutelage of a sociopath.

A sociopath that had only gotten worse after he'd won and acquired more power. The things he'd been made to do to the people he'd once considered friends… Everything he'd done leading up to the war was nothing compared to what he'd done after.

So when he was summoned to identify the latest bounty of the snatchers, the last person he expected to see was the insufferable know-it-all herself. He recognized her immediately, that wild tangle of curls leaving little doubt as to who was currently curled in on herself, trying to stave off what he assumed to be, numerous Cruciatus curses and various hexes sent her way.

He could sympathize.

This, he had not completely planned for, though he supposed he should have. Hermione Granger was a very intelligent girl, not prone to outbursts of emotion, leaving her vulnerable like some of her compatriots. But she wasn't all knowing, despite what she might have thought. From what he'd been told, she'd been on the run for the last two years. She'd managed to avoid capture, much to his amazement, and had even taken down a few Death Eaters in the process. He was unsure as to how she captured them, or what was done after, but that was none of his concern. The Dark Lord dealt with failure in his own way - his brothers were better off captured than escaping and reporting those failures back to their Master instead.

He unsheathed his wand and saw her flinch, no doubt imagining he would be joining in on the torture. Defiantly, she stood, despite the obvious pain she was in, and stared him down. He was almost impressed. It seemed she'd made the decision that if she were going to die, she would do so on her feet, wand or no wand.

It was fearlessness and foolishness, but he could respect it, at least.

She'd been hardened, like any soldier in a war. At the moment, she looked battered and broken, filthy and bloody. The Carrows had truly outdone themselves.

He crooned his approval to Alecto and Amycus before turning his attention to the girl in front of him. If he believed it possible, it wouldn't have shocked him to see her spit actual fire. Her hands were balled up at her sides, and she'd taken a defensive stance. She could and possibly would strike him, and what he would have to do in return would not be welcomed by her.

He lifted his wand and kept it pointed at her face, watching as her pupils dilated, focusing on the darkness she saw looking back at her, triggering her fight or flight instinct, knowing she would have the opportunity to do neither. He was well aware of the silhouette he struck.

There was a reason other Death Eaters were terrified of him.

She was back on her knees before Severus had a moment to discover the source of the spell, but had to resist the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose when he did.

"That is enough, Anontin," Severus said in a bored tone, with an elegant roll of his eyes. The more people that showed up for this little reveal, the more dangerous the situation got. It was only a matter of time until Bellatrix showed up, slithering behind the Dark Lord.

He saw Draco descend the stairs out of the corner of his eye and gave an infinitesimal shake of his head. If Hermione Granger were to die today, Draco didn't need to die with her.

Seconds later, he heard the maniacal shriek of Bellatrix LeStrange, and the sound of Voldemort's robes drifting across the floor.

"Ah, Miss Granger," he said without inflection. "How lovely for you to join us. We have been looking for you for quite some time." He reached down to lift her from the ground by her hair. "I, personally, have been looking for you since our victory at Hogwarts. I owe you a debt of gratitude for saving my life," he said with a grin. It was then that Hermione began to fight and claw at him until he was forced to yank her head back by her hair with enough force that her neck cracked. There were tears in the corners of her eyes when she looked at him, but it wasn't sadness. It was anger. Apparently the action had temporarily shocked her to silence.

"That is preferable," he purred.

"Severus?" the Dark Lord asked from over Severus' right shoulder. He twisted his hand around her hair once more and pulled, dragging her to Voldemort and throwing her to the ground at his feet.

It was Bellatrix that spoke up. She'd seen Hermione before. In fact, they'd been intimately familiar with each other the last time they were both at Malfoy Manor together, he'd heard, and Hermione had the pleasure of taking a souvenir with her when she escaped. She was lucky that's all that happened.

"This is the filthy Mudblood who dared to impersonate me, My Lord. Let me finish what I started two years ago. I'll make her bleed and scream before I skin her alive."

"As ever, Bellatrix," Severus murmured, "your flair for subtlety is astonishing." She hissed at him as Severus turned his attention to Voldemort. "If I may, My Lord? You no doubt are aware of who Miss Granger is. With Potter gone, she is a member of what is left of the Order who may pose any type of threat."

"Which is why you should let me kill her," Bellatrix bellowed.

"Calm yourself, Bellatrix," Voldemort said without looking at her. Bellatrix quieted - as quiet as Bellatrix ever was - and silently glared at Severus.

"She will have information about the surviving members of the Order. She may also know the location of Potter. This is information I will take pleasure in pulling from her mind. And if she does not have that information, I believe she may still prove useful."

"And how is that, Severus?"

"We can use her to spy on the Order. To know what is coming before it happens. She could be a useful tool, now that they know my true allegiance."

"Or she could be spying on us right now. With his help," Bellatrix hissed.

Seconds later, Bellatrix fell to the floor, the victim of one of Voldemort's silent hexes. "Severus has proven himself time and again, Bellatrix. I am absolutely certain as to where his loyalties lie."

"A pity I didn't when I saved your worthless life you bloody coward," Hermione spat at Severus, her body broken and sore, she barely had the energy to lift her head, but her mouth worked just fine.

How fitting.

He leaned down on one knee until he was eye level with her, and struck her hard across her cheek in warning; it was a kindness that few others in the room would have granted her. "Silence," Snape hissed at her; perhaps now she would leave this room with her life.

"She has quite a lot of fight in her, Severus," the Dark Lord said with a smile that Severus had long ago trained himself to not recoil from. "How do you plan to get her to cooperate? Obviously the girl doesn't trust you. She will not do so willingly."

Severus grabbed her by the hair again, tilting her head back so that she was forced to look up at him. His eyes bore into hers and he shivered when he saw the fear there. In moments like these, he had to remind himself to not let the Dark take over completely. The Dark welcomed him with open arms, it seduced him and begged him to succumb, and sometimes, he found himself uncomfortably close to accepting its embrace. But he refused to let it overtake him. He knew what he was, but he wasn't a cold-blooded killer like Bella. They were different. At least, he hoped they were.

Some days, he wasn't so sure.

"I will break her, My Lord," he murmured almost seductively, his eyes drifting down over her body and back again. "I will tear her down to nothing and build her back up in my image. She will be disciplined, taught, trained, reprogramed... She will learn her proper place in this world, and her loyalty will be to me. And when I am finished with her, she will do whatever I command, she will want to, for fear of the consequences. She would not be the first woman I have broken, though... I will take my time with her. An innocent as full of Light as her… she should be savored. I will… devour her," he said, snapping his teeth at her.

Abruptly, he threw her back to the ground and stood, brushing the dust off his robes. "Or we can simply kill her, My Lord. As always, I defer to you for guidance."

Hermione got up on her knees, yanking at Snape's robes. "You worthless piece of -"

Snape hit her with a silencing hex and a binding hex in quick succession, wordlessly and wandlessly, and watched as Hermione toppled over on her side.

There was silence for a moment before Voldemort laughed gleefully. "Very well, Severus. I will leave you to your charge. I will allow you your fun, and you alone, as the consequences will be solely yours should you fail. Take her and do as you please." He waited until Severus was looking at him before he spoke again. "However, Severus, should she betray you in any way, I expect you to deal with her as Bellatrix would, had I allowed it."

"Of course, My Lord," Severus replied.

The Dark Lord finally focused his attention on the woman lying at his feet.

"I have seen first-hand what Severus is capable of." He smiled and knelt down in front of Hermione, grabbing her face between his deformed, spindly fingers until she was looking at him. "Lucky you," he whispered, half smiling, before standing and leaving with Bellatrix on his heels.

Severus reached down to grab a shivering Hermione by her arm and lifted her from the ground after the rest of the Death Eaters had evacuated the room. She was less fun to them now that they were forbidden to touch her. A surprising development, considering the amount of witches and wizards that had been captured and immediately killed upon their arrival.

Then again, Tom Riddle had not been exaggerating. Severus was very meticulous in his methods and he produced results. If Severus truly meant to strip the girl's mind down to nothing and turn her into a mindless shell to reshape, he could. It wouldn't have been the first time. The darkest part of him… the oily part that slithered across the surface of his brain… the part that wanted to let loose all that he was holding back… it wondered with insistent eagerness what it would be like to mold her as he liked. Wondered what it would be like to toy with her mind until she broke. He shook his head as if to clear the thought.

He finally turned his attention to her with a scowl. "Stupid girl," he hissed, as he looked her up and down again - she was a mess of tangled hair, sweat, blood, dried tears, cuts, bruises, and dirt. Her knuckles were split open and she obviously had broken bones there - that would account for the bruise on Alecto's face, point to Granger. Her lip was split, and she looked as if she hadn't eaten for days. The gash across her left cheek was from him. And those were just the injuries he could see.

He wouldn't feel guilty about striking her; he probably saved her life. Something he thought he'd be finished with at this point in his life. He'd been protecting the Golden Trio for far, far too long.

Presently, he had to get her away from the Manor without a fuss, and it would be a lot easier if she cooperated.

"I am going to release my spells, and you will find a way to keep your mouth shut. If you cannot manage that, I will cast Incarcerous and drag you along behind me, do you understand?"

It was a long moment of staring between the two of them before Hermione finally blinked and looked down. Mere seconds later, she was flexing her wrists from where they'd been pinned to her sides. She bent over to catch her breath and he watched as another tremor shot through her body.

The worst part of the hex hadn't even surfaced yet. When she finally stood, tears in her eyes from the pain, he could tell she was almost bursting to begin spitting what he was sure would be an impressive string of obscenities at him.

"Keep. Quiet," he said, grabbing her upper arm and pulling her alongside him. He couldn't Disapparate directly from the grounds, which meant he had to get them both out of the manor first, and he didn't need to run into anyone that could hinder his progress.

They'd made it to the garden doors before they ran into another person. Severus heard them before he saw them, and immediately unsheathed his wand. A moment later, Draco stepped into the light and Severus lowered his wand to his side.

"Godfather," Draco said with a nod. He fixed his attention on Hermione after a minute. "Granger. You've seen better days," he said with a smirk. "I thought you were dead for sure when I came down the stairs."

"Yes, I am pleased that you kept your nose out of it. The situation would have been infinitely more difficult to manage with you also under Cruciatus. You were captured at an opportune time, Miss Granger. Had the Carrows gotten their claws in you just last week, I would be torturing you in the common room for all to see," he said with a smirk.

He moved past Draco, still pulling Granger along behind him before he abruptly stopped and spoke over his shoulder.

"According to Pansy, your father is doing well. Should you need to send anything to him, she will be along later this week and will give them to her husband to deliver. As always, you must be discrete. The Dark Lord will not take to this kindness well."

"Thank you, Godfather. I'll let mother know," Draco said before leaving the hallway.

Severus let go of Hermione and he knew she was following him by the sound of her feet on the ground behind him. The second they were out of the wards of Malfoy Manor, he snatched her hand and Disapparated them away.

Hermione fell to her knees the moment her feet touched the ground; the dizziness from the Side-Along Apparition coupled with the tremors that wracked through her body from the Cruciatus curse left Hermione nauseous and confused.

Not that Severus Snape cared. Currently he was, she assumed, dropping the wards to the small house they'd appeared in front of. She took a few heaving breaths and fought back a scream as she settled herself before standing. She hobbled her way over to Snape, shivering as she cradled her injured arm, who never even turned his head.

"Do not speak," he said, his wand moving elegantly in the air. Hermione ground her molars down. After a moment, he dropped his hands, resheathed his wand and entered the house. Hermione didn't move, considering her options. She could run. Or, at least, she could try to run. Another tremor passed through her and she audibly whimpered. She could see Snape's shoulders lift and fall as he sighed before turning in the doorway and looking at her.

"Should you decide to run, I will be forced to track you down. I am significantly more powerful than you and I have no desire to chase you, therefore I will simply hex you, immobilize you, drag you inside, and lock you there."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him and reached for her wand with her good arm. A wand she no longer had. In her current state, there would be no use in running; she wouldn't make it far. She could barely stand and move in the general direction of the house, let alone run.

"Furthermore, while I do not want you here, your absence would raise questions that I could not answer. I have spied for two of the most powerful wizards to ever live for longer than you have been alive, and I will not allow you to be the reason I do not live through whatever may come next. And I certainly will not allow you to interrupt my plans for a second time this evening."

And with that, he turned and disappeared into the house. Hermione took a breath and followed him. The second the door shut, Severus began to reset the protective wards.

She brushed past him into the sitting room and fell into the couch with a groan. Her body ached everywhere as she started to take inventory of her injuries, which were many. It was not the first time she'd been subjected to the Cruciatus curse. It was the first time she'd been hit by more than one. Certainly more than one at the same time. She wondered how she was still able to walk and, not for the first time, Hermione wondered just how long it took for Neville's parents to go insane.

The involuntary shaking seemed to get worse the more time that passed. She felt sick to the stomach. Her vision was blurry and head was pounding. In addition, from what she could tell, she had at least one broken rib, her wrist was broken, and there were several broken bones in her hand from where she'd punched one of the Carrow twins; she couldn't remember which.

Her shoulder was dislocated, which was why it was currently cradled in her lap. She couldn't take count of the numerous gashes and bruises across her body. Her cheek throbbed, and she narrowed her eyes at Snape as he, too, entered the family room.

"You hit me," she said, lifting her hand to her face, feeling the dried blood where the skin had split.

"Yes," he replied without inflection, pointing his wand at the fireplace and casting Incendio to light it.

"You hit me hard," she said, waiting for an apology.

"And I will do so again, if you do not shut your mouth!"

Hermione was silent for another moment before she spoke again, anyway. She didn't know what was going to happen next, but it would have been nice to know what to anticipate. "Who's side are you on, Snape?" she asked quietly. "Are you still our spy?" Her voice broke on the word 'our'; she had to know.

His face revealed nothing. Still, impassive and uncaring, until he sneered at her. "At present, I have no desire or intention of discussing my actions, my motives or my decisions," he hissed, removing his robes and laying them across a large wingback chair. Hermione huffed. "Where are you injured?" he asked agitatedly.

"What the fuck do you care?" she spat back at him, and before she knew what she was about, she was thrown backwards, down on the couch behind her. "Ow!" Her entire body recoiled from the movement.

"Language, Granger!" he growled. "I will not tolerate your disrespect in my home! Now, where are you injured, before I add to the list!"

Hermione sighed. "Ribs, hand, wrist - all broken. Shoulder is dislocated," she said, shivering. She gasped as her body trembled from her scalp to her toes. There were tears forming in the corner of her eyes, though she tried desperately to stop them from falling. "I feel worse than I did before we left the manor. How - "

"Adrenaline. It has left your body, and now the effects of the curse are catching up to you. You will feel worse before you feel better. I can heal your injuries, however, other than a sleeping drought, there is not much I can do for the tremors and the pain from the curse. They will have to run their course."

Hermione closed her eyes against the pain, grinding her teeth to keep from screaming. "I feel like I might pass out."

"If you are lucky, you will. Would you like my assistance in healing your other injuries?" he asked dispassionately. He could have been teaching potions, considering how detached and cold he was.

This Severus Snape was oddly familiar.

"The shoulder first," he said, pulling her to her feet, reaching for her injured arm and tucking it under his. There was no warning as he jammed the joint back into its socket; Hermione finally let out the scream she'd been holding in. Snape simply dropped her arm and backed away from her. "Sit down before you fall down," he said, with a sneer, and Hermione did as she was told, if for no other reason than she didn't have the strength to do anything else.

If anything, the shaking increased, and she was finding it difficult to keep her eyes focused. Snape disappeared into the kitchen and Hermione couldn't imagine what he was doing, and she couldn't see from her vantage point to try and figure it out. She could hear glass, and the sound of his boots getting closer. At least, she thought she could. Sound was becoming muffled.

"Am I dying?" she whispered, and her voice sounded strange in her ears.

"Not quite yet, Miss Granger," he replied sardonically, and she could feel his hand against hers, wrapping her fingers around something. "Drink that."

Hermione tried as hard as she could to pull the stopper from its bottle, but her hands were shaking enough that she could barely hold it, let alone apply any pressure. Snape let out a curse she couldn't understand in a language she didn't immediately recognize, and snatched the bottle from her hand before it went limp.

"Open your mouth," he said, and she could tell he was standing behind her from the sound of his voice. Hermione's tongue felt like lead. She couldn't open her mouth. She couldn't speak or move her hands. She could barely think, but she tried. She tried to do as he asked, but the pain was too intense and if she just laid there - if she just kept still - perhaps she could die in relative peace. If he would just go away...

Absently, she wondered if this was how Snape felt when she found him dying on that floor.

A second later, Hermione couldn't breathe, she tried to sit up or flail out against whatever was stopping the air from entering her lungs, but found out that she could not. A second later, her body's natural survival instinct kicked into gear and had her gasping and sucking in the air her lungs had been denied. It was then that she felt the bitter liquid coat her tongue. A second later, his hand was over her mouth and it stayed there until she swallowed. The second she did, his hand pinched her nose again until she opened her mouth, and forced another potion down her throat.

A not insignificant part of her wondered how often he'd done that in the past. She tried to turn her head, eyebrows knitted together, but Snape seemed to understand.

"Essence of Dittany and the Draught of Living Death. Wiggenweld will be given to wake you, if necessary. As I have brewed the Draught myself, I am confident that you will sleep through the worst of this." He didn't say another word to her, though she could hear him casting charms, and could feel the pain leaving in layers.

The tremors, the violent shivering and the pain from head to toe did not ease up, but she could pinpoint where his spells were healing her superficial wounds. She heard Brackium Emendo, and could feel the bones in her hand and wrist knitting back together. Episkey for the cuts and scrapes.

And some spell she'd never heard before that was warm on her skin; the throbbing of the bruises let up almost immediately. She focused on the low, crooning sound of his voice, and it was the last thing she heard before drifting off into a fitful sleep.