ES
Chapter 2
"No," she whispered, a hint of despair and confusion tingeing her voice.
Snape tilted his head to the side and regarded her with curiousity. "No, Miss Granger?" he asked, his voice soft and mocking.
"No," she repeated, much more vehemently this time. "You-you're not really a Death Eater. You are-you just-spy-pretend-" she sputtered, struggling to find the words, raising both hands to brush back the snarl of thick, bushy hair from her face.
Snape continued to study her, his ears still straining to hear the sound of any movement from the area of the window and noting, at the edge of his peripheral vision, the exact position of her wand upon the floor.
"Dumbledore trusts you!" she finally shouted, her hands dropping away from her face and clenching into fists. "I've told Harry and Ron that-"
"Oh, yes, I am sure that you have," he snarled. "In fact, you've probably told them that dozens of times haven't you?"
He leaned towards her again, causing her to instinctively draw away from him.
"Oh, boys, you're wrong!" he mimicked, in a high and bossy tone. "Dumbledore trusts Snape, so you're wrong to be suspicious of him!"
She winced slightly and drew further away. Snape's lip curled triumphantly upward, certain that his barb had struck a sensitive point.
"I thought you had finally realized that Dumbledore was not quite as infallible as you thought; that upon occasion the old fool allows sentiment to mislead him into believing that what he wishes to be real is true."
"No, you're lying!" she shouted.
"Yes, perhaps I am," he agreed, his smile widening even more. "Perhaps he truly did know that I was not to be trusted, but he was using me to achieve his own ends? Rather a Slytherinish maneuver for such an exemplary Gryffindor, don't you think?"
"Please," she moaned softly, closing her eyes as her shoulders sagged tiredly.
"But, of course what is condemned as deceit in a Slytherin is applauded as resourcefulness in a Gryffindor, isn't it?" he jeered.
"Please stop!" she whispered, shivering slightly as she kept her eyes shut.
"Oh, dear me, have I tarnished some of your quaint, childish perceptions of your world? Not quite ready to have some of your safe, misguided illusions of the world shattered?"
"Look, " she began, opening her eyes and brushing her hair back once more, "There may be a way out of this-if we work together we can-"
"Work together?" he repeated, rising to his feet and staring down at her in amazement. "Do you really have no idea what my opinion of you and your abilities are?" He laughed shortly before bending down to loom over her. "Do you really not know how distasteful it has been to endure your presence in my classroom for the past seven years?"
She stared up at him, her head shaking slightly as her eyes implored him to stop.
"Dear Merlin, you are such an annoying little Mudblood," he hissed. "So damned confident, so eager to share your vast knowledge with us lesser mortals." Pulling himself back to full height, he glared down at her and continued: "Such a self-satisfied little prig of a bluestocking, so certain that all the answers to life's problems are buried in the pages of some dusty old tome or written upon an ancient piece of parchment. That all the solutions are waiting there for the dedicated and industrious Miss Granger to find them."
It was hard to tell between the streaks of blood, but it looked as if a faint blush had appeared upon her pallid cheeks.
"You have always been an infuriating know-it-all, so very sure of what is right and wrong, of what is good or evil," he continued, sneering down at her and pleased to see that her eyes were beginning to fill with tears.
"You are about to find out that very little in life is as black or white as it appears upon the printed page. Most of us live out our lives in varying shades of grey." A short, barking laugh issued from between his thin lips. "Some, admittedly, darker than others," he added, holding out his left hand.
For the briefest of moments, she stared at him in disbelief, as if wondering why, after such a diatribe, he should be offering to help her to her feet.
"Accio wand!" he called, and she gasped as her wand sprang up from the floor and directly to his outstretched fingers. "Thank you, Miss Granger" he said, shrugging his shoulders, "Being careless enough to drop your wand made it much easier than having to disarm you," he drawled, pointing his own wand directly at her face.
"Are you going to kill me?" she asked, her eyes staring up at him defiantly.
"Oh, dear, time for the much-vaunted Gryffindor courage to evince itself," he mocked. "Of course not, you stupid girl, you are much too valuable a pawn for me to throw away just yet. I need you very much alive...for now."
"This way!"
The shout had come from the area of the broken window, and both of them turned their heads in the direction of the sound. Although the black smoke had almost completely receded there was no sign of either the dementors or the Death Eaters.
"But I am afraid," Snape said, turning back to face her and taking careful aim, "That neither can I afford to leave you conscious at the moment."
She continued to glare up at him mutinously, refusing to look away. Behind him, his ears discerned the sound of brooms speeding through the air and knew that he had at best only seconds until someone would burst in upon them. He had really intended to use just a simply stunning spell upon her, to make sure that she would not be awake to contradict whatever story he would concoct to explain his actions to Voldemort. But he suddenly realized that stronger measures were required.
"Crucio!" he whispered, his voice soft but steady.
She was in such a weakened state that she collapsed almost immediately, her brief shriek of agonizing pain fading away even as her body continued to twitch spasmodically under the effects of the spell. He kept his wand trained upon her, only ending the curse as he heard the thud of boots hitting the floor as a lone rider came swooping in through the window.
"Ah, there you are, Severus!"
"Yes, Lucius," he answered, abruptly lowering his wand, "Here I am." Turning to face the new arrival he clasped his hands in front of him, but kept his wand tightly clenched in his fingers as he watched the wizard alight from his broom. "Have you been looking for me?"
Malfoy had already raised his Death Eater mask away form his face and was peering curiously at the still figures on the other side of the sofa.
"Not particularly," he drawled, bending down to examine Hermione's body more closely, using the tip of his boot to nudge her onto her back. "Though we were rather surprised not to find you in the dungeons." Glancing up, he threw Snape a cold smile. "And then the dementors came fleeing out of this tower, apparently driven away by a Patronus in the shape of a Thestral." Straightening up, he casually threw back his long blond hair and raised his eyebrows. "I knew you had produced it, of course, though it did seem rather out of character for you."
"Really, Lucius?" he answered, frowning slightly as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Do you doubt my ability to produce a patronus? Or are you under the mistaken belief that I am particularly fond of the company of dementors?"
"Oh, of course not," replied the other wizard, stepping forward. "But you must have realized that-"
Both men turned to the window as a new pair of Death Eaters flew into the room. Although the breadth of the aperture was sizable, the sheer bulk of the riders made it a difficult maneuver, and they collided in midair, both of the men falling to the ground with a crash.
"I see Crabbe and Goyle have decided to join us," noted Snape dryly as the hefty figures struggled to free themselves from the tangle of robes and broomsticks. "How convenient."
"Convenient?" echoed Malfoy, grimacing contemptuously at the duo before returning his attention to Snape. "How so?"
"Three trophies to be carried to the Dark Lord, and three wizards with brooms to deliver them," he answered.
"Ah, yes, but I would not be so certain that our leader will be pleased with such a present," warned Malfoy, a small smile curling up the corners of his mouth.
"Why would he not be pleased that I have captured the famous Harry Potter's little mudblood friend?"
"Because obviously, Severus," said Malfoy, tilting his nose upward, "The Dark Lord sent the dementors here with specific orders to deliver a kiss to her."
"Then he should be quite grateful that I intervened," he replied airily. "For it would been a regrettable error had they succeeded in carrying out his wishes."
"Do you intend to tell him that?" challenged Malfoy, frank incredulity in his voice.
"As a matter of fact, I do," he answered calmly. "But I will need your help in transporting them. If you would be so kind?" he asked, gesturing towards the girl's immobile form.
"I'll not soil my broomstick carrying a damned Mudblood," he protested, the nostrils of long, aristocratic nose flaring in disdain.
"Very well," answered Snape, his voice still implacably composed. "Why don't you take her instead?" he asked, pointing toward Ginny Weasley's body.
"Arthur Weasley's little brat?" he said, advancing upon her with some interest. "Very well," he said, sighing and reaching into the pocket of his robe for his wand. A moment later the girl's slight frame had risen from the floor and was floating through the air. "But who is the third one?" he asked, frowning down at Parvati.
"No one of any consequence," Snape answered, shrugging. "But she is a considerable beauty. It would be a shame for her to die so quickly when the Death Eaters might be allowed to play with her awhile. I daresay she could provide some very interesting sport."
"Why, Severus," Malfoy said, affecting a shocked tone as he aimed his wand towards his broomstick and caught it with his other hand as it sprang up into the air. "I thought that as a teacher you were impervious to the physical charms of your female students."
"Impervious, Lucius?" he replied, shrugging his shoulders. "I assure you that, as I am neither blind nor a eunuch, I cannot claim that the close proximity to a bevy of nubile young women has been without its temptations. However, it was hardly prudent to succumb to such an enticement with Dumbledore observing my every action."
"That impediment appears to have been removed," Malfoy observed, positioning himself on the broom with Ginny's body in front of him.
"Indeed," he replied shortly. With a wave of his wand, the bodies of both Parvati and Hermione went wafting through the air over to where Crabbe and Goyle were standing, having finally managed to disentangle themselves.
"I thought I already saw her downstairs," murmured Crabbe, his thick brow furrowed in confusion as he stared at Parvati.
"She is a twin," hissed Snape, shaking his head in irritation.
"Ah," he said, nodding up and down and reaching out to grasp the girl's arm and pull her toward his broom. As she slumped towards him, Snape noticed with slight revulsion that his hands were roaming over the girls small but firm breasts. "That leaves the other one for you, eh?" he called over to Goyle.
The other wizard was staring at Hermione as she continued to hang, suspended in midair before him. "But, Malfoy says the Dark Lord doesn't want her alive," he protested, refusing to reach out for her.
"Take her, you idiot!" thundered Snape, completely losing patience with the thick-witted oaf.
"Go on, Goyle," murmured Malfoy, who was idly drawing his fingers through Ginny's blood-stained tresses as he hovered upon his broom near the window. "I assure that Severus has every intention of accompanying us on our journey and that our Lord will be much more interested in hearing his explanations as to why he kept the bitch alive than in punishing you for delivering her in such a condition."
"Absolutely," replied Snape, a grim smile appearing upon his face.
Goyle reluctantly mounted his broom but continued to stare at the girl's body as if reluctant to touch her.
"Oh, for Merlin's sake," muttered Snape, moving forward and pointing his wand toward the handle of Goyle's broomstick. A long, thick rope appeared, one end winding around the broomstick as the other knotted itself around the girl's waist. "There," he said, stepping back slightly and placing his wand back in his pocket. "You may pull her along behind you rather than hold her if it will make you feel more secure."
A moment later, he had transformed back into his animagus form, and there was no further conversation as the group flew out through the window and slowly began their descent. As Malfoy led them around the remains of the tower and down to the ground floor, Snape noted that while the damage to the castle had not been extensive, the targeted areas had been quite effectively devastated. As they neared the front doors, he saw that the thick and ancient doors had been blown off of their hinges, allowing them to fly directly into the entry hall. Outside of the Great Hall, however, they slowed and the other men dismounted from their brooms as Snape swiftly transfigured himself once more.
The crowd of Death Eaters inside the hall were celebrating loudly, but a hush quickly fell over them as the strange procession came down the narrow aisle that remained in the center of the room between the large house tables. Snape led the way, followed by Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle, the girls' bodies bobbing gently in front of them as they made their way to the other side of the room. As they reached the ends of the house tables the other men stopped, leaving Snape to continue on alone.
The large staff table that usually occupied the front of the room had disappeared, but the podium it had stood upon was still standing. It had been magically elevated, however, hanging several feet above the ground now as if suspended by invisible wires from the ceiling. In the very middle of the dais stood Dumbledore's chair, and ensconced upon its worn but comfortable cushions was Lord Voldemort, his red eyes blazing with triumph as he surveyed the chamber.
Standing on either side of Voldemort, and clearly reveling in their positions of favor were Pettigrew and Filch. Both men had wide, almost manic grins plastered upon their faces as they watched the tall, dark figure approach the platform.
"My Lord!" he cried, gracefully falling down to his knees for a moment before moving to prostrate himself on the ground directly beneath Voldemort's feet as they hung in midair over the edge of the dais.
"Severus!" The Dark Lord's voice was soft but carried clearly across the whole chamber. "My faithful servant."
"Yes, my Lord," murmured Snape into the dust of the floor.
"You have served me well for a long time from within these walls, have you not?"
"Yes, my Lord."
"Rise, Severus."
Snape waited a few more moments, and then cautiously rose to his knees.
"I do hope that you are not angry with me for not giving your forewarning of the attack?" whispered Voldemort, a grotesque approximation of a smile flitting across his face as he continued to stare down at the dark-robed figure before him. "But the opportunity to exploit a weakness in this considerable fortress came about so unexpectedly that I had no time to inform you of my plans."
"I only wish I could have been of more help to you, my Lord." answered Snape, finally daring to raise his gaze to Voldemort's face.
"Really, Severus?" There was a definite coldness to his tone now and Snape found himself having to fight back a shiver as he continued to stare up into those strange, snakelike eyes. "Then why, if your only wish is to serve me, did your intervene when I sent the dementors to deliver their kiss?"
"Because, my Lord, it would have been a mistake."
The crowd took in a loud, collective gasp and then there were several long moments of silence.
"A mistake, Severus? Do you not think Potter would have been devastated to learn of her condition?"
"Of course, my Lord," he answered, dropping his gaze back down to the floor again, but keeping his voice strong and steady. "But you have already accomplished that by attacking McGonagall, a person that both Potter and the Headmaster hold in high regard. I am sure that, upon learning of her fate, Albus will berate himself for allowing her to suffer in his place, and Potter himself will be determined to avenge the fallen head of his house."
"Then why not double their anguish by delivering two victims instead of one?"
"Because my Lord, Potter is surrounded by too many people, who would take great care to ensure that he did not act upon his impulse to try and exact his revenge immediately. In time, Albus would be able to persuade him that in order to defeat you, he must act slowly and deliberately."
Voldemort shrugged. "Will he not try to do so anyway?"
"Of course, my Lord, but you see-" Snape paused and took in a deep breath before continuing. "You found yourself two years ago that the best way to ensure that Potter acts recklessly and impulsively is to have him believe he must act in order to prevent an injury from befalling one whom he loves." His dark eyes slowly swept back up to Voldemort's face. "Had you sent him Sirius Black's head on a platter, you would have dealt him a painful blow, but you would never have lured him into the Ministry of Magic."
"Hmm."
Snape kept his eyes trained on Voldemort's face as he slowly began to rise to his feet.
Turning slightly, he pointed a finger in Hermione's direction. "If you send Potter that girl's lifeless or soulless body, you will undoubtedly succeed in wounding him deeply. But if instead you keep her here, making him worry and wonder as to what has happened to her..."
Snape smiled and pivoted back towards Voldemort. "You will drive him mad."
Voldemort stared at him for several seconds and then began to chuckle, his voice dry and raspy.
"Very clever, Severus, " he admitted, nodding his head approvingly.
"You could always kill her anyway and not say anything," said Filch, stepping forward and suddenly breaking into the conversation. "She's a powerful witch, 'specially for a Mudblood," he added. "I think it's too dangerous to keep her alive."
With difficulty, Snape suppressed a smile. It was amazing how an untalented Squib like Filch could be so envious of a Muggleborn.
"If I may, my Lord?"
This was Malfoy's voice now.
"I must agree with Severus that she is worth much more to us as a hostage than as a corpse. As to Argus' suggestion-" Malfoy's eyes flitted over Filch's filthy clothes, his expression one of bemused contempt, "Should we kill her, word of her demise would undoubtedly eventually leak out. Rumors have such an unfortunate habit of spreading beyond these walls."
Snape's black eyes narrowed as Malfoy threw him a friendly smile. He didn't trust the blond wizard for at any time, much less when the wily wizard appeared to be supporting him.
"What are you suggesting, Lucius?" asked Voldemort, his red eyes burning with interest.
"She is not the only girl with family and friends who will be eagerly awaiting news of her fate," he said, stepping closer to the platform. "We also have Arthur Weasley's daughter as our prisoner."
"Oh, yes," wheezed Voldemort, "Little Ginny, who was such a pliable accomplice in the past," he chuckled.
"But a member of 'Dumbledore's Army' a few years ago," reminded Lucius, a small, insincere sigh escaping from his lips.
Snape found himself scowling at the ground. A few minutes ago Malfoy had been ready to either hand all of the girls to the dementors or leave them for dead. Although it was encouraging to feel that Malfoy's sudden switch in attitude was due to the fact that he felt Voldemort was beginning to like the idea of keeping the girls alive but imprisoned, he still preferred not to have to depend on him as an ally in this proposal.
"This one was too!" shouted a voice.
A moment later the figure of Luna Lovegood was thrust through the crowd onto the flagstones of the floor near Malfoy's feet.
"Ah, yes, the daughter of that crazy loon who publishes the Quibbler," noted Malfoy, gazing down at her. "I am sure he will be most anxious to publish the most outlandish theories as to what has befallen those who endured the initial attack."
Although she had been bound and gagged, the force of her fall had loosened the kerchief that had been tied around her mouth.
"You bastard!" she shrieked, glaring at Snape, her words muffled but distinguishable.
It was quite a surprise, he admitted, to see those protruding eyes so clear and focused and to hear that usually-dreamy voice raised and venomous
"You tricked us," she screamed, as Goyle bent down and began to clumsily try and replace the gag within her mouth. "You made us follow you and then picked us off one by one!"
Outwardly, Snape continued to sneer as Crabbe joined Goyle in securing her bonds and dragging her back to the edge of the crowd. But inwardly, he heaved a sigh of relief.
Thank you, Miss Lovegood. How shall I ever repay you? Those words should ensure Voldemort that I was indeed acting on his behalf.
"There are other hostages?" asked Voldemort, his voice taking on a somewhat bored tone. "Of more interest than that poor wretch, I hope?"
"Two twin sisters, my Lord," replied Malfoy, continuing to smile in a most ingratiating manner. "Not of any particular interest, but as Severus suggested-" He stepped over to Snape and clapped his hand upon his shoulder. "They may provide us with some entertainment. In fact, my Lord,-" Dropping his arm he knelt down and dipped his head for an instant. "I believe I have a rather amusing proposal."
"And what would that be, Lucius?"
"Why don't we sell these hostages as slaves-to the highest bidder of course," he said, throwing his hands out and looking quite pleased with himself.
Snape was unable to keep himself from drawing in a deep, angry breath. Of course the blond bastard wanted to put them up for auction. Even a stay in Azkaban had failed to put a dent in the substantial Malfoy fortune, so he would have plenty of money with which to buy them all if he wanted. And it was imperative that Snape keep Hermione to himself if he had any hope of remaining afloat should the tide turn to Dumbledore's favor in the future.
"An excellent suggestion, Lucius," replied Voldemort, nodding his head in approval. "Are there any objections?"
Snape clenched his hands into angry fists and felt a muscle twitch in his jaw as he forced himself to meet Malfoy's smug, self-satisfied gaze.
"None whatsoever," he whispered, forcing a smile onto his own lips. "You do realize, of course, that more than one of them is quite badly injured at the moment and may not live to be sold," he warned.
"Well, now, I am sure that a skilled Potions Master such as yourself will be able to heal them in short order," answered Malfoy, waving his hand in the direction of the floating bodies. "Surely you do not doubt your own abilities in that area, do you, Severus?"
"Not at all, Lucius," he replied, "However, it will be a lengthy and exhaustive process."
He turned back to Voldemort and once more made another low obeisance. "I humbly beseech a small favour in return for my services."
"As my servant, your talents will you be used as I direct." Voldemort's voice was cold and menacing.
"Yes, my Lord" replied Snape, throwing himself onto the ground again. "And I have I not proven myself to be your faithful servant?"
"Yes," he said, slowly. "You have." Linking his long, skeletal fingers together, he studied Snape thoughtfully. "Just what compensation do you seek, Severus?"
"Allow me first choice of those that do survive," he replied quietly.
"That's hardly fair, Severus," protested Malfoy, as a general murmur of disapproval ran through the crowd. "If the rest of us are willing to pay for them-"
He was interrupted by Voldemort's cold, high laugh. "Oh, come now, gentlemen, surely we can compromise?" He was looking quite amused now, his recent victory seeming to have put him in a much better mood than usual. "Severus, I hereby give you permission to choose one of these pretty little wenches as your own concubine."
"Thank you, my Lord, I am most-"
"Provided that they all survive your attempts to heal them," he added. "Fair enough?"
Malfoy nodded his head grudgingly as Snape once again bowed down before Voldemort.
Damn.
Although he was not without some skill at healing, he was hardly a Mediwizard. And the healing process was going to be complicated by the fact that it was to be accompanied by a complete erasure of their memories-not that he had any intention of revealing that part of his plan as yet. He had rather hoped to experiment on the Patil twins first, perfecting the process before applying the technique to Granger. And should something go horribly wrong, he was quite prepared to administer a little more 'medicine' than necessary in order to erase the consequences of his failure.
This was going to be even more difficult than he had bargained.
.
Chapter 2
"No," she whispered, a hint of despair and confusion tingeing her voice.
Snape tilted his head to the side and regarded her with curiousity. "No, Miss Granger?" he asked, his voice soft and mocking.
"No," she repeated, much more vehemently this time. "You-you're not really a Death Eater. You are-you just-spy-pretend-" she sputtered, struggling to find the words, raising both hands to brush back the snarl of thick, bushy hair from her face.
Snape continued to study her, his ears still straining to hear the sound of any movement from the area of the window and noting, at the edge of his peripheral vision, the exact position of her wand upon the floor.
"Dumbledore trusts you!" she finally shouted, her hands dropping away from her face and clenching into fists. "I've told Harry and Ron that-"
"Oh, yes, I am sure that you have," he snarled. "In fact, you've probably told them that dozens of times haven't you?"
He leaned towards her again, causing her to instinctively draw away from him.
"Oh, boys, you're wrong!" he mimicked, in a high and bossy tone. "Dumbledore trusts Snape, so you're wrong to be suspicious of him!"
She winced slightly and drew further away. Snape's lip curled triumphantly upward, certain that his barb had struck a sensitive point.
"I thought you had finally realized that Dumbledore was not quite as infallible as you thought; that upon occasion the old fool allows sentiment to mislead him into believing that what he wishes to be real is true."
"No, you're lying!" she shouted.
"Yes, perhaps I am," he agreed, his smile widening even more. "Perhaps he truly did know that I was not to be trusted, but he was using me to achieve his own ends? Rather a Slytherinish maneuver for such an exemplary Gryffindor, don't you think?"
"Please," she moaned softly, closing her eyes as her shoulders sagged tiredly.
"But, of course what is condemned as deceit in a Slytherin is applauded as resourcefulness in a Gryffindor, isn't it?" he jeered.
"Please stop!" she whispered, shivering slightly as she kept her eyes shut.
"Oh, dear me, have I tarnished some of your quaint, childish perceptions of your world? Not quite ready to have some of your safe, misguided illusions of the world shattered?"
"Look, " she began, opening her eyes and brushing her hair back once more, "There may be a way out of this-if we work together we can-"
"Work together?" he repeated, rising to his feet and staring down at her in amazement. "Do you really have no idea what my opinion of you and your abilities are?" He laughed shortly before bending down to loom over her. "Do you really not know how distasteful it has been to endure your presence in my classroom for the past seven years?"
She stared up at him, her head shaking slightly as her eyes implored him to stop.
"Dear Merlin, you are such an annoying little Mudblood," he hissed. "So damned confident, so eager to share your vast knowledge with us lesser mortals." Pulling himself back to full height, he glared down at her and continued: "Such a self-satisfied little prig of a bluestocking, so certain that all the answers to life's problems are buried in the pages of some dusty old tome or written upon an ancient piece of parchment. That all the solutions are waiting there for the dedicated and industrious Miss Granger to find them."
It was hard to tell between the streaks of blood, but it looked as if a faint blush had appeared upon her pallid cheeks.
"You have always been an infuriating know-it-all, so very sure of what is right and wrong, of what is good or evil," he continued, sneering down at her and pleased to see that her eyes were beginning to fill with tears.
"You are about to find out that very little in life is as black or white as it appears upon the printed page. Most of us live out our lives in varying shades of grey." A short, barking laugh issued from between his thin lips. "Some, admittedly, darker than others," he added, holding out his left hand.
For the briefest of moments, she stared at him in disbelief, as if wondering why, after such a diatribe, he should be offering to help her to her feet.
"Accio wand!" he called, and she gasped as her wand sprang up from the floor and directly to his outstretched fingers. "Thank you, Miss Granger" he said, shrugging his shoulders, "Being careless enough to drop your wand made it much easier than having to disarm you," he drawled, pointing his own wand directly at her face.
"Are you going to kill me?" she asked, her eyes staring up at him defiantly.
"Oh, dear, time for the much-vaunted Gryffindor courage to evince itself," he mocked. "Of course not, you stupid girl, you are much too valuable a pawn for me to throw away just yet. I need you very much alive...for now."
"This way!"
The shout had come from the area of the broken window, and both of them turned their heads in the direction of the sound. Although the black smoke had almost completely receded there was no sign of either the dementors or the Death Eaters.
"But I am afraid," Snape said, turning back to face her and taking careful aim, "That neither can I afford to leave you conscious at the moment."
She continued to glare up at him mutinously, refusing to look away. Behind him, his ears discerned the sound of brooms speeding through the air and knew that he had at best only seconds until someone would burst in upon them. He had really intended to use just a simply stunning spell upon her, to make sure that she would not be awake to contradict whatever story he would concoct to explain his actions to Voldemort. But he suddenly realized that stronger measures were required.
"Crucio!" he whispered, his voice soft but steady.
She was in such a weakened state that she collapsed almost immediately, her brief shriek of agonizing pain fading away even as her body continued to twitch spasmodically under the effects of the spell. He kept his wand trained upon her, only ending the curse as he heard the thud of boots hitting the floor as a lone rider came swooping in through the window.
"Ah, there you are, Severus!"
"Yes, Lucius," he answered, abruptly lowering his wand, "Here I am." Turning to face the new arrival he clasped his hands in front of him, but kept his wand tightly clenched in his fingers as he watched the wizard alight from his broom. "Have you been looking for me?"
Malfoy had already raised his Death Eater mask away form his face and was peering curiously at the still figures on the other side of the sofa.
"Not particularly," he drawled, bending down to examine Hermione's body more closely, using the tip of his boot to nudge her onto her back. "Though we were rather surprised not to find you in the dungeons." Glancing up, he threw Snape a cold smile. "And then the dementors came fleeing out of this tower, apparently driven away by a Patronus in the shape of a Thestral." Straightening up, he casually threw back his long blond hair and raised his eyebrows. "I knew you had produced it, of course, though it did seem rather out of character for you."
"Really, Lucius?" he answered, frowning slightly as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Do you doubt my ability to produce a patronus? Or are you under the mistaken belief that I am particularly fond of the company of dementors?"
"Oh, of course not," replied the other wizard, stepping forward. "But you must have realized that-"
Both men turned to the window as a new pair of Death Eaters flew into the room. Although the breadth of the aperture was sizable, the sheer bulk of the riders made it a difficult maneuver, and they collided in midair, both of the men falling to the ground with a crash.
"I see Crabbe and Goyle have decided to join us," noted Snape dryly as the hefty figures struggled to free themselves from the tangle of robes and broomsticks. "How convenient."
"Convenient?" echoed Malfoy, grimacing contemptuously at the duo before returning his attention to Snape. "How so?"
"Three trophies to be carried to the Dark Lord, and three wizards with brooms to deliver them," he answered.
"Ah, yes, but I would not be so certain that our leader will be pleased with such a present," warned Malfoy, a small smile curling up the corners of his mouth.
"Why would he not be pleased that I have captured the famous Harry Potter's little mudblood friend?"
"Because obviously, Severus," said Malfoy, tilting his nose upward, "The Dark Lord sent the dementors here with specific orders to deliver a kiss to her."
"Then he should be quite grateful that I intervened," he replied airily. "For it would been a regrettable error had they succeeded in carrying out his wishes."
"Do you intend to tell him that?" challenged Malfoy, frank incredulity in his voice.
"As a matter of fact, I do," he answered calmly. "But I will need your help in transporting them. If you would be so kind?" he asked, gesturing towards the girl's immobile form.
"I'll not soil my broomstick carrying a damned Mudblood," he protested, the nostrils of long, aristocratic nose flaring in disdain.
"Very well," answered Snape, his voice still implacably composed. "Why don't you take her instead?" he asked, pointing toward Ginny Weasley's body.
"Arthur Weasley's little brat?" he said, advancing upon her with some interest. "Very well," he said, sighing and reaching into the pocket of his robe for his wand. A moment later the girl's slight frame had risen from the floor and was floating through the air. "But who is the third one?" he asked, frowning down at Parvati.
"No one of any consequence," Snape answered, shrugging. "But she is a considerable beauty. It would be a shame for her to die so quickly when the Death Eaters might be allowed to play with her awhile. I daresay she could provide some very interesting sport."
"Why, Severus," Malfoy said, affecting a shocked tone as he aimed his wand towards his broomstick and caught it with his other hand as it sprang up into the air. "I thought that as a teacher you were impervious to the physical charms of your female students."
"Impervious, Lucius?" he replied, shrugging his shoulders. "I assure you that, as I am neither blind nor a eunuch, I cannot claim that the close proximity to a bevy of nubile young women has been without its temptations. However, it was hardly prudent to succumb to such an enticement with Dumbledore observing my every action."
"That impediment appears to have been removed," Malfoy observed, positioning himself on the broom with Ginny's body in front of him.
"Indeed," he replied shortly. With a wave of his wand, the bodies of both Parvati and Hermione went wafting through the air over to where Crabbe and Goyle were standing, having finally managed to disentangle themselves.
"I thought I already saw her downstairs," murmured Crabbe, his thick brow furrowed in confusion as he stared at Parvati.
"She is a twin," hissed Snape, shaking his head in irritation.
"Ah," he said, nodding up and down and reaching out to grasp the girl's arm and pull her toward his broom. As she slumped towards him, Snape noticed with slight revulsion that his hands were roaming over the girls small but firm breasts. "That leaves the other one for you, eh?" he called over to Goyle.
The other wizard was staring at Hermione as she continued to hang, suspended in midair before him. "But, Malfoy says the Dark Lord doesn't want her alive," he protested, refusing to reach out for her.
"Take her, you idiot!" thundered Snape, completely losing patience with the thick-witted oaf.
"Go on, Goyle," murmured Malfoy, who was idly drawing his fingers through Ginny's blood-stained tresses as he hovered upon his broom near the window. "I assure that Severus has every intention of accompanying us on our journey and that our Lord will be much more interested in hearing his explanations as to why he kept the bitch alive than in punishing you for delivering her in such a condition."
"Absolutely," replied Snape, a grim smile appearing upon his face.
Goyle reluctantly mounted his broom but continued to stare at the girl's body as if reluctant to touch her.
"Oh, for Merlin's sake," muttered Snape, moving forward and pointing his wand toward the handle of Goyle's broomstick. A long, thick rope appeared, one end winding around the broomstick as the other knotted itself around the girl's waist. "There," he said, stepping back slightly and placing his wand back in his pocket. "You may pull her along behind you rather than hold her if it will make you feel more secure."
A moment later, he had transformed back into his animagus form, and there was no further conversation as the group flew out through the window and slowly began their descent. As Malfoy led them around the remains of the tower and down to the ground floor, Snape noted that while the damage to the castle had not been extensive, the targeted areas had been quite effectively devastated. As they neared the front doors, he saw that the thick and ancient doors had been blown off of their hinges, allowing them to fly directly into the entry hall. Outside of the Great Hall, however, they slowed and the other men dismounted from their brooms as Snape swiftly transfigured himself once more.
The crowd of Death Eaters inside the hall were celebrating loudly, but a hush quickly fell over them as the strange procession came down the narrow aisle that remained in the center of the room between the large house tables. Snape led the way, followed by Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle, the girls' bodies bobbing gently in front of them as they made their way to the other side of the room. As they reached the ends of the house tables the other men stopped, leaving Snape to continue on alone.
The large staff table that usually occupied the front of the room had disappeared, but the podium it had stood upon was still standing. It had been magically elevated, however, hanging several feet above the ground now as if suspended by invisible wires from the ceiling. In the very middle of the dais stood Dumbledore's chair, and ensconced upon its worn but comfortable cushions was Lord Voldemort, his red eyes blazing with triumph as he surveyed the chamber.
Standing on either side of Voldemort, and clearly reveling in their positions of favor were Pettigrew and Filch. Both men had wide, almost manic grins plastered upon their faces as they watched the tall, dark figure approach the platform.
"My Lord!" he cried, gracefully falling down to his knees for a moment before moving to prostrate himself on the ground directly beneath Voldemort's feet as they hung in midair over the edge of the dais.
"Severus!" The Dark Lord's voice was soft but carried clearly across the whole chamber. "My faithful servant."
"Yes, my Lord," murmured Snape into the dust of the floor.
"You have served me well for a long time from within these walls, have you not?"
"Yes, my Lord."
"Rise, Severus."
Snape waited a few more moments, and then cautiously rose to his knees.
"I do hope that you are not angry with me for not giving your forewarning of the attack?" whispered Voldemort, a grotesque approximation of a smile flitting across his face as he continued to stare down at the dark-robed figure before him. "But the opportunity to exploit a weakness in this considerable fortress came about so unexpectedly that I had no time to inform you of my plans."
"I only wish I could have been of more help to you, my Lord." answered Snape, finally daring to raise his gaze to Voldemort's face.
"Really, Severus?" There was a definite coldness to his tone now and Snape found himself having to fight back a shiver as he continued to stare up into those strange, snakelike eyes. "Then why, if your only wish is to serve me, did your intervene when I sent the dementors to deliver their kiss?"
"Because, my Lord, it would have been a mistake."
The crowd took in a loud, collective gasp and then there were several long moments of silence.
"A mistake, Severus? Do you not think Potter would have been devastated to learn of her condition?"
"Of course, my Lord," he answered, dropping his gaze back down to the floor again, but keeping his voice strong and steady. "But you have already accomplished that by attacking McGonagall, a person that both Potter and the Headmaster hold in high regard. I am sure that, upon learning of her fate, Albus will berate himself for allowing her to suffer in his place, and Potter himself will be determined to avenge the fallen head of his house."
"Then why not double their anguish by delivering two victims instead of one?"
"Because my Lord, Potter is surrounded by too many people, who would take great care to ensure that he did not act upon his impulse to try and exact his revenge immediately. In time, Albus would be able to persuade him that in order to defeat you, he must act slowly and deliberately."
Voldemort shrugged. "Will he not try to do so anyway?"
"Of course, my Lord, but you see-" Snape paused and took in a deep breath before continuing. "You found yourself two years ago that the best way to ensure that Potter acts recklessly and impulsively is to have him believe he must act in order to prevent an injury from befalling one whom he loves." His dark eyes slowly swept back up to Voldemort's face. "Had you sent him Sirius Black's head on a platter, you would have dealt him a painful blow, but you would never have lured him into the Ministry of Magic."
"Hmm."
Snape kept his eyes trained on Voldemort's face as he slowly began to rise to his feet.
Turning slightly, he pointed a finger in Hermione's direction. "If you send Potter that girl's lifeless or soulless body, you will undoubtedly succeed in wounding him deeply. But if instead you keep her here, making him worry and wonder as to what has happened to her..."
Snape smiled and pivoted back towards Voldemort. "You will drive him mad."
Voldemort stared at him for several seconds and then began to chuckle, his voice dry and raspy.
"Very clever, Severus, " he admitted, nodding his head approvingly.
"You could always kill her anyway and not say anything," said Filch, stepping forward and suddenly breaking into the conversation. "She's a powerful witch, 'specially for a Mudblood," he added. "I think it's too dangerous to keep her alive."
With difficulty, Snape suppressed a smile. It was amazing how an untalented Squib like Filch could be so envious of a Muggleborn.
"If I may, my Lord?"
This was Malfoy's voice now.
"I must agree with Severus that she is worth much more to us as a hostage than as a corpse. As to Argus' suggestion-" Malfoy's eyes flitted over Filch's filthy clothes, his expression one of bemused contempt, "Should we kill her, word of her demise would undoubtedly eventually leak out. Rumors have such an unfortunate habit of spreading beyond these walls."
Snape's black eyes narrowed as Malfoy threw him a friendly smile. He didn't trust the blond wizard for at any time, much less when the wily wizard appeared to be supporting him.
"What are you suggesting, Lucius?" asked Voldemort, his red eyes burning with interest.
"She is not the only girl with family and friends who will be eagerly awaiting news of her fate," he said, stepping closer to the platform. "We also have Arthur Weasley's daughter as our prisoner."
"Oh, yes," wheezed Voldemort, "Little Ginny, who was such a pliable accomplice in the past," he chuckled.
"But a member of 'Dumbledore's Army' a few years ago," reminded Lucius, a small, insincere sigh escaping from his lips.
Snape found himself scowling at the ground. A few minutes ago Malfoy had been ready to either hand all of the girls to the dementors or leave them for dead. Although it was encouraging to feel that Malfoy's sudden switch in attitude was due to the fact that he felt Voldemort was beginning to like the idea of keeping the girls alive but imprisoned, he still preferred not to have to depend on him as an ally in this proposal.
"This one was too!" shouted a voice.
A moment later the figure of Luna Lovegood was thrust through the crowd onto the flagstones of the floor near Malfoy's feet.
"Ah, yes, the daughter of that crazy loon who publishes the Quibbler," noted Malfoy, gazing down at her. "I am sure he will be most anxious to publish the most outlandish theories as to what has befallen those who endured the initial attack."
Although she had been bound and gagged, the force of her fall had loosened the kerchief that had been tied around her mouth.
"You bastard!" she shrieked, glaring at Snape, her words muffled but distinguishable.
It was quite a surprise, he admitted, to see those protruding eyes so clear and focused and to hear that usually-dreamy voice raised and venomous
"You tricked us," she screamed, as Goyle bent down and began to clumsily try and replace the gag within her mouth. "You made us follow you and then picked us off one by one!"
Outwardly, Snape continued to sneer as Crabbe joined Goyle in securing her bonds and dragging her back to the edge of the crowd. But inwardly, he heaved a sigh of relief.
Thank you, Miss Lovegood. How shall I ever repay you? Those words should ensure Voldemort that I was indeed acting on his behalf.
"There are other hostages?" asked Voldemort, his voice taking on a somewhat bored tone. "Of more interest than that poor wretch, I hope?"
"Two twin sisters, my Lord," replied Malfoy, continuing to smile in a most ingratiating manner. "Not of any particular interest, but as Severus suggested-" He stepped over to Snape and clapped his hand upon his shoulder. "They may provide us with some entertainment. In fact, my Lord,-" Dropping his arm he knelt down and dipped his head for an instant. "I believe I have a rather amusing proposal."
"And what would that be, Lucius?"
"Why don't we sell these hostages as slaves-to the highest bidder of course," he said, throwing his hands out and looking quite pleased with himself.
Snape was unable to keep himself from drawing in a deep, angry breath. Of course the blond bastard wanted to put them up for auction. Even a stay in Azkaban had failed to put a dent in the substantial Malfoy fortune, so he would have plenty of money with which to buy them all if he wanted. And it was imperative that Snape keep Hermione to himself if he had any hope of remaining afloat should the tide turn to Dumbledore's favor in the future.
"An excellent suggestion, Lucius," replied Voldemort, nodding his head in approval. "Are there any objections?"
Snape clenched his hands into angry fists and felt a muscle twitch in his jaw as he forced himself to meet Malfoy's smug, self-satisfied gaze.
"None whatsoever," he whispered, forcing a smile onto his own lips. "You do realize, of course, that more than one of them is quite badly injured at the moment and may not live to be sold," he warned.
"Well, now, I am sure that a skilled Potions Master such as yourself will be able to heal them in short order," answered Malfoy, waving his hand in the direction of the floating bodies. "Surely you do not doubt your own abilities in that area, do you, Severus?"
"Not at all, Lucius," he replied, "However, it will be a lengthy and exhaustive process."
He turned back to Voldemort and once more made another low obeisance. "I humbly beseech a small favour in return for my services."
"As my servant, your talents will you be used as I direct." Voldemort's voice was cold and menacing.
"Yes, my Lord" replied Snape, throwing himself onto the ground again. "And I have I not proven myself to be your faithful servant?"
"Yes," he said, slowly. "You have." Linking his long, skeletal fingers together, he studied Snape thoughtfully. "Just what compensation do you seek, Severus?"
"Allow me first choice of those that do survive," he replied quietly.
"That's hardly fair, Severus," protested Malfoy, as a general murmur of disapproval ran through the crowd. "If the rest of us are willing to pay for them-"
He was interrupted by Voldemort's cold, high laugh. "Oh, come now, gentlemen, surely we can compromise?" He was looking quite amused now, his recent victory seeming to have put him in a much better mood than usual. "Severus, I hereby give you permission to choose one of these pretty little wenches as your own concubine."
"Thank you, my Lord, I am most-"
"Provided that they all survive your attempts to heal them," he added. "Fair enough?"
Malfoy nodded his head grudgingly as Snape once again bowed down before Voldemort.
Damn.
Although he was not without some skill at healing, he was hardly a Mediwizard. And the healing process was going to be complicated by the fact that it was to be accompanied by a complete erasure of their memories-not that he had any intention of revealing that part of his plan as yet. He had rather hoped to experiment on the Patil twins first, perfecting the process before applying the technique to Granger. And should something go horribly wrong, he was quite prepared to administer a little more 'medicine' than necessary in order to erase the consequences of his failure.
This was going to be even more difficult than he had bargained.
.