PAWN
A/N: Some Thanksgiving goodness…from our family to yours. (This is better than pie!)
***
There is a saying that goes, "It is always darkest before dawn." This saying, when first looked at, really seems quite obvious. Why, of course it's darkest right before dawn! It is night, after all! This line of thinking is for the literal. But if you are the one who is thrown into a dank, damp, freezing dungeon and told, with a sickening sense of sadism to "have a good night", the pre-dawn hour seems the blackest you have ever known.
By five A.M., (although she had no idea of knowing it was such,) Hermione had quite given up on the mere idea of staying warm. She was lying facedown in her straw pile, her knotted mass of hair fanned out and entangling with bits of straw. Hermione's brown eyes stared vaguely off into space, glassy and distant, as last night's Cruciatus still ran races through her tired body. Hermione's breath came in quiet little gasps, billowing out in shadowy white clouds when she exhaled. Her fingers and feet were numb. The clouds outside were just turning the faintest shade of gray, but for Hermione, it was truly her darkest hour.
But instead of focusing on her pain, Hermione passed time by watching bits of moonlighted cloud float past her window, wondering if somewhere Ron or Harry or Ginny was looking at the same clouds, safely hidden away. Hermione briefly contemplated what her captors were doing, whether they were sleeping soundly mere stories about her pain-ridden body.
Hermione lay there, breathing and blinking and generally not feeling for a time, watching the sky turn to a darker shade of gray. It was depressing.
Hermione rasped a few coughs between her parched lips, thinking all the while how eerie it had been to host the Dark Lord in her cell. Hermione had never actually come face-to-face with Voldemort before, always being sent back by Harry or otherwise delayed somehow.
He's not nearly as terrifying as he poses, really, Hermione thought amusedly. All that pasty whiteness makes him out to be a wrinkled old man.
The thought of Voldemort as a "wrinkled old man" sent some vivid imagery into Hermione's sleep-deprived mind and a small chuckle escaped her lips dryly. But the thought soon faded away as the chuckle cost Hermione nearly a minute of body-wracking coughs. She shook, trying to get herself under control, curling into a fetal ball. Hermione closed her eyes wearily. The gray hues turned to a heathery blue.
Hermione dozed only momentarily, before her eyes sprang open from a soft tapping on the wooden door across the room. She froze. Could it be the Malfoys back again for another round of torture? Voldemort, with more bad news? Dr Montague?
"Who's there?" Hermione rasped warily, pulling herself up. A tiny voice could just barely be heard through the thick door.
"Please…been sent by the masters…" a small voice said. Hermione frowned. Then, a small pop was heard, and a House Elf appeared right next to Hermione's "bed." Hermione jumped in shock.
The House Elf was small, even for its kind's standards, with huge muddy brown eyes that bulged from its small pointed face. Its nose put Hermione in mind of Pinocchio—long and rather pointy. The Elf's head was covered in small tufts of hair poking out, falling in uneven lengths messily around its head. It stood, nary four feet tall, blinking at Hermione in wonder. Hermione stared at it in complete shock.
"What…who are you?" Hermione asked nervously. The House Elf shook itself out of the stare, apologetically lowering its heavy brown gaze to the floor.
"Oh, I is sorry, miss, I is!" the Elf cried. Hermione stared at it in wonder, her eyes wide. The tiny Elf continued. "I is Kipsy, miss, and the Masters have been sending Kipsy down here to look at you, miss!"
Hermione could only blink wildly at the creature, thoughts of S.P.E.W. racing half-heartedly through her mind. I might've known the Malfoys still enslaved their servants, she thought bitterly. Kipsy turned her illuminated gaze back on Hermione.
"The Masters have been sending Kipsy down for you, Miss," Kipsy said somewhat nervously, to Hermione's silence. "They is coming down to see you later, along with the Dark One!" Kipsy gave a nervous little shudder. Not quite being able of thinking of anything to say to that statement, Hermione remained silent. Kipsy shuffled nervously, clasping its little hands together. "Master Lucius and Master Draco have sent food for miss," Kipsy said, with some hope, looking at Hermione. Hermione fought to keep her gaze on the ground. She hadn't realized how hungry she was. "Miss really should eat—"
"I don't want whatever poison they've sent!" Hermione cried suddenly. Kipsy jumped. Hermione took a deep shuddering breath. "You can tell your 'Masters' that I'm not hungry," Hermione told Kipsy primly. She settled back against the wall, listening to the faint rumble of her stomach.
Kipsy wavered. "Miss should please eat," Kipsy said fearfully. "Miss looks right peaked if she doesn't mind Kipsy saying so." Hermione shrugged, feeling her fatigue. Kipsy carried on, warmly. "The Masters usually don't feed their prisoners, Miss," the Elf said. "But the Dark One gave special orders for you. He said it was important."
"Oh yes?" Hermione asked, somewhat intrigued by this news. Voldemort seems to be giving me special privileges, she thought dryly.
Kipsy nodded eagerly, tufts of hair waving. "Oh yes, miss! Kipsy overheard it herself. Master Lucius was in a right state about the orders. Him feeding his prisoners, you especially, miss."
Hermione allowed a cynical smile. "Why am I not surprised?" she muttered.
Kipsy allowed a comforting look. "Perhaps if miss will not eat, she would like a glass of water?" the Elf asked. With some reluctance to giving the Elf orders, Hermione nodded. Kipsy bounded out of the cell happily, returning seconds later with a wooden cup filled with ice water, and a small hunk of bread, which she gave to Hermione joyfully. "There miss is!" she cried, relieved her task was done. Hermione swallowed the bread hungrily, totally forgetting her earlier refusals, gulping down the stale stuff with swallows of the water.
"Kipsy," Hermione asked thoughtfully. "Exactly how long have I been here?"
Kipsy thought for a moment. "Three days, methinks, miss," the Elf said, ticking them off on her long, spindly fingers. "One the day the big school fell, and the next you was fast asleep. And yesterday," Kipsy finished lamely, brown eyes staring avidly at Hermione. Hermione sighed.
Just then, several loud bangs and shouts were heard from outside on the Malfoy Manor's grounds. Hermione's head whipped around, and she stood to peer out the miniscule window. "What's going on out there?" Hermione asked Kipsy. Kipsy looked frightened, her big eyes wide with uncertainty.
"Kipsy doesn't know, miss," the Elf said in a small voice. "But Kipsy thinks she should leave. Kipsy is not liking the commotion and the Masters are waking!" and with a small pop, Kipsy the House Elf was gone again.
Hermione sighed, blinking tiredly as she plopped down in her makeshift bed. Strange, this, she thought, idly picking up her empty wooden cup and rubbing it between her hands, the Malfoys run an interesting prison. Hermione turned an ear to the outside world again, but the commotion had seemingly died down. From upstairs she thought she could hear the faint sound of footsteps, but passed it off as rats in the dungeon.
But wait a moment…
Hermione held her breath, straining her ears. Yes! Those were footsteps she was hearing! Clunk, clunk, clunk. Many pairs of feet were descending into the dungeons. Quickly, Hermione seated herself messily in the hay, closing her eyes. And not a moment too soon: the door slammed open and fifteen Death Eaters clunked in, dragging a sixteenth.
"Stand up, you fool!" was spat, and Hermione could hear the dull thud of a boot connecting with someone's side. She struggled to keep her eyes closed. The Death Eater's wicked laughter rang throughout the cell as more kicks were applied to whoever the poor soul was, and then, a hush, and the sound of four more pairs of feet sweeping in. Dignified feet, Hermione realized, as the sound of fifteen Death Eaters dropping to their knees signified that Voldemort and the Malfoys had just entered the room.
"My Lord," fifteen voices whispered.
Hermione opened an eyelid a fraction of an inch. Red-robed Death Eater backs faced her, while a black-haired heap lie on the ground. Voldemort stood grinning wickedly down at it, with Lucius, Draco, and Dr. Montague on either of his sides looking delighted as well.
"So we are brought together again," Voldemort rattled in his low, snake-like hiss, Hermione's hope flickered for a moment…black hair…'brought together again'…could that be Harry? She squinted even harder but couldn't risk opening her eyes all the way.
"We found him out on the grounds, Milord!" One Death Eater spoke up proudly. "He was a-sneaking over toward the cellars, and we ran at 'im, and he tried to curse us, but we've got 'im now, and—"
"Silence, Crabbe!" Voldemort rasped, and the Death Eater hastily fell silent. The only sound in the room was the gasping breath of the bundle on the floor. Voldemort's red eyes were alight as he watched the figure struggle for air. "Difficult, is that?" the Dark Lord asked in mock sympathy. "I know it only too well. I struggled with it for thirteen years before I returned. Thirteen years in which you, our slippery little eavesdropper, muddled somewhat happily through a normal life. But this is what life truly is: pain!"
The figure on the floor groaned faintly, stirring. Hermione peered through pieces of straw and began to pray that the figure wasn't Harry at all. But how could it be? She wondered frantically. "Slippery little eavesdropper"? What does that mean?
"It was the only way," the figure croaked, trying desperately to be heard. Lucius pointed his wand at the figure, and he abruptly stopped talking. Voldemort cackled.
"You will find that there is only one way: my way, and the way of the pure," here Voldemort paused, "Severus!" Hermione stifled a gasp—her former Potions Professor was currently imprisoned with her. Voldemort turned to leave. "Deal with him and follow me shortly," the Dark Lord tossed over his bony shoulder. He exited swiftly, motioning for the Doctor and the Malfoys to follow. Montague and Lucius followed suit. Draco left, but not without glancing quickly over at the "sleeping" human bundle that was Hermione. After they were gone, the remaining Death Eaters turned on Severus Snape.
"You'll be sorry you ever left," came a voice Hermione realized as being Theodore Nott's.
"Yeah," another followed. "Let's show him Slytherin retribution!"
A nod of assent, and then: "Crucio!"
Snape's cry echoed off the dungeon walls for what seemed like an eternity to Hermione's ears.
***
"Professor? Sir?"
Hermione gently prodded the unconscious man on the shoulder with her forefinger. Snape lie in the same spot he had been thrown in hours before completely submerged in his subconscious. Hermione sighed wearily, her knotted mass of hair falling in her eyes. "Professor, sir, can you hear me at all?"
Snape lie there like a dead fish. Hermione arched an eyebrow. "Snape," Hermione hissed. "Professor, wake up!" Hermione jabbed the man hard in the shoulder, and Snape jumped up with a start, his onyx eyes widening madly.
"Get back!" he cried, reached for his wand. Upon not finding it, Snape opted for lunging at Hermione's throat in a wild self-defense fury. Hermione ducked and rolled around him. Snape tried to stand but couldn't muster the strength, collapsing in a heap again.
"Professor!" Hermione cried angrily, massaging her neck, standing over him. Snape looked up, wide-eyed.
"Miss Granger?"
"Professor Snape?"
Snape looked at his hands, affronted. "Sorry," he said quietly. "I thought you were a recruit."
Hermione scowled as Snape pulled himself into a sitting position. She got a good look at his face and was taken aback. Her former teacher's skin was pale as ice and he had shadow-bags under his empty eyes. Snape looked tired and old. "I hope you don't mind me saying this, Professor," she blurted out, "But you look like shit."
Snape gave her a cynical once-over. "Perhaps you would do to keep your opinions to yourself, Miss Granger," he said. A pause, and then: "How long have you been here?"
Hermione sighed. "Three days, according to the House-Elf that brought me breakfast."
Snape's eyes widened. "They feed you now?"
Hermione chose not to explain whatever her current situation was at the moment. "Can you stand, Professor?" she asked. Snape shakily got to his feet. Hermione mentally applauded him for being so calm after his bout with the Cruciatus. Snape straightened, grimacing.
Hermione hesitated before asking her next question. "Why…why are you here, Professor?" she asked. "I think you must've put up quite a fight outside, but I thought the Order was in hiding."
Snape sighed, looking worn. "As a matter of fact, Miss Granger, I was supposed to be looking for you. Many died in the Battle," here he paused slightly, looking at his former pupil. "And thirteen were taken, two Order members, you included. Dumbledore thought it best that you were looked for." Snape stopped, glancing around the dungeon dismally. "As is plain, his plan has miserably backfired."
Hermione shrugged. "But what are you going to do, sir? You most certainly can't stay here…Voldemort won't be exactly pleased to see you, and Dumbledore--"
Snape turned sharply. "What will I do? There is nothing to do, Miss Granger! Dumbledore cannot risk losing another Order member to this sort of foolishness!" Snape's face grew angry; he punctuated this sentence with a pound of his fist. Hermione jumped at the sudden change. Snape quieted for a moment, turning from Hermione. "The Dark Lord will get what information he needs from us, and that will be the end."
Hermione stared at her fellow Order members back in disbelief. She had known of Snape's aversion to the Dark side, but for him to give up so easily was not something Hermione was willing to accept. "There must be another way out," Hermione muttered hopefully. Snape paced over to her, looking aggravated.
"There is so much you have yet to learn about this business, Miss Granger," he said, in the tone he had reserved for the classroom. "There is nothing the Dark Lord will not use to get what he wants, and right now he would like nothing more than to rid himself of your friend Mr. Potter for good. It is to our great misfortune that we can help him do that." Snape drew himself up, standing tall, seemingly in deep inner turmoil as he rubbed the spot where his Dark Mark was. Finally, he looked straight at Hermione and said, "and for life's sake, it is the only way to go."
Hermione's mouth fell open in shock. "What?" she cried. Bottled fury spread through her. "You would submit yourself back to Voldemort? You would be willing to sacrifice all that is good and just and peaceful so you could live?!" Hermione cried, aghast.
Snape's face looked drawn, but his voice was calm. "You will find, Miss Granger, that there are very few things in this world that are truly good and just and peaceful," he said, his eyes looking sternly at her.
Hermione suppressed a scream of rage. "Professor! You suffered for eighteen years under the cover of a spy only to betray Dumbledore and go back?"
"What I do with my life is my own business," Snape spat. His torn Order robes seemed to swish with some of his former menace. Hermione narrowed her eyes. "There are things I plan to do with it, and I will not give them up for the ideals of a losing army!" he said, somewhat furiously. "There can be no peace without dominance!"
Hermione could do nothing but stare. What had happened to the Order spy that had existed in her former professor?
"I don't understand this line of reasoning," Hermione said bitterly. "You cannot just go sell Order secrets for the sake of your life, Professor Snape."
Snape's dark eyes narrowed. "This is not for me," he said quietly. "This is for you, and this is for the peace that Dumbledore has always wanted. They are winning already, Hermione Granger, and the defiance of two captives is not going to stop that."
***
Many hours later, the pair of prisoners had been dragged from their cell to Lucius Malfoy's audience chamber.
Forced into a kneeling position before Lord Voldemort, Hermione and Snape sat with their wrists bound, the former with an angry and hopeless expression on her face. Snape had been silent since he left the cell, but frequently glanced at Hermione out of the corner of his eye, watching for any possible Death Eater mistreatment.
Voldemort waved a spindly hand, and the congregation of Death Eaters fell silent in eager anticipation. Red eyes fell upon the two captives as Voldemort began to speak. "So, our entertainment for the evening has arrived," he said cruelly, stepping toward the pair. Hermione glared fiercely at the term "entertainment". Voldemort stopped in front of Snape. "One, a truly Slytherin turncoat," Snape didn't flinch. Voldemort sneered at him and moved to stand directly in front of Hermione. Hermione shuddered at the coldness of the snake-like eyes. "And one, a witch with more Muggle than actual magic in her."
Hermione forced herself not to blink. Be strong, Hermione, be strong, she told herself. Make the Order proud for the last few minutes of fragile secrecy! Voldemort chuckled and moved on, facing his Death Eaters.
"One of these captives has decided it is the time to reveal their true colors!" Voldemort told them. The congregation cheered. Hermione turned her head to face Snape, who was staring at the ground desperately. He turned his gaze to her, silently saying, "It's all for the best." Hermione shook her head slightly and turned her gaze away. "Both can help our cause," Voldemort continued. The Dark Lord stood behind Hermione and Severus, placing a cold hand on their shoulders. "Soon the Purebloods shall triumph!
"One will willingly give the secrets of a former alliance to save a few," Voldemort cackled to the crowd. "And one will forcefully become a little bribe for those who will be destroyed. Dr. Montague! Step forth. Administer the Truth Serum."
The stout doctor stepped forward, pulling out a small crystal bottle of the clear Veriteserum from his robe pocket. Adjusting his glasses, the doctor forced Snape's mouth open, and poured the liquid down Snape's throat. Snape's eyes became immediately glassy, and Hermione looked on horrified.
"Watch, friends, as the Potions Master gets a dose of his own medicine!" Voldemort hissed. Lucius Malfoy stepped forth, looking proud as ever.
"Severus Snape, you will forthwith answer all questions directed to you," Lucius said silkily. "Where are the emergency Order of the Phoenix Headquarters?"
Hermione watched, eyes wide, as Snape hesitated for a second, before answering in a trance-like state. "The emergency headquarters are in…" Snape threw a desperate look at Hermione, who shook her head violently. Let him fight it!
"NO!" Hermione screamed, as Snape formed the word. "Stop it! Don't give in, Prof—" But Hermione's protests were cut off as Draco Malfoy placed a Silencing Spell on her from behind. He stepped up next to her, glaring with icy orbs. Hermione was startled into submission.
"Siberia." The word fell off Snape's tongue with condemning solemnity. His eyes were downcast, and Voldemort gave a wicked gleam. Malfoy father and son shared a triumphant look. Hermione's mouth hung in a silent, defeated O.
"And is Albus Dumbledore with them?" Lucius Malfoy continued, a sort of maniacal light filling his eyes. Snape nodded, eyes still glued to the black marble floor. Hermione's head began to spin with the injustice of the situation. Angry tears began to make themselves known in her eyes and they blurred her vision as she pictured Ron, Ginny, and Harry.
As if he could read minds, Lucius next asked, "And Harry Potter?"
Snape hesitated a moment, looked around the room and locked gazes with Hermione again. He looked helpless. Almost unwillingly, he nodded. The tears burned streaks down Hermione's face. She knew now that there was no hope for the Order.
Lucius looked at his Master, who nodded. Lucius continued the questioning. "What were your reasons for sneaking onto the Manor grounds this morning, Snape?"
Snape answered readily. "I am sent on a mission by Dumbledore to rescue your captive, Hermione Granger." Lucius gave a nasty chuckle, and Draco looked down on his former schoolmate with a sneer. Hermione glared at him through her burning eyes.
"And will anyone come to rescue you?" Lucius asked in mock sympathy.
Snape's eyes were downcast once more. "There are not enough Order members able to conduct another such mission," the Potions Master said quietly. "Miss Granger's fate rested with me."
Voldemort gave a little cackle. "You have disappointed her, Severus Snape," he said cruelly, casting a gaze on Hermione, who moved not a muscle. Voldemort regarded her closely. "You have disappointed her indeed," he murmured. The Dark Lord turned his gaze away from Hermione and back to Lucius. "I will take over now," he told his right-hand-man. Lucius bowed and stepped back next to his son.
"And lastly, Severus Snape, we come to the Judgment Day. Who are your true allies?" Voldemort asked, a wicked smirk covering the snake-like face. Snape's head snapped up at the unprepared-for question.
"My…alliances…" Snape seemed to be fighting the words, "lie with the…the winning side." The black hair formed a curtain over the broken face as Snape's head fell limply in defeat. Silent tears raced down Hermione's face at the sight of her broken former Order member. Voldemort pulled back in delight.
"There now, that wasn't so hard, was it?" Voldemort asked maliciously. Turning to his Death Eaters, he raised his arms in triumph. "Severus Snape has returned to my ranks!" Voldemort said. "But can an ex-traitor be trusted?" A hiss went through the crowd. Hermione closed her eyes, trying desperately to block the scene from her mind. Voldemort turned to Snape thoughtfully. "No…" he muttered. "I think you shall have to earn your way back in. Crabbe! Goyle!" Both sets of father and son, four lumbering fellows, stepped forth. "Take our recruit Severus to the dungeons and…" Voldemort's red eyes glowed. "Test his devotion."
Snape's eyes grew wide as Crabbe and Goyle Sr. laughed dumbly as their sons grabbed his arms. Hermione tried to cry out in horror but for the Silencing Spell, only air came out. Snape locked eyes with her as they dragged him out of the room, with an empty gaze that would haunt Hermione's memory for years to come. The heavy doors slammed shut, and Snape was gone.
Hermione was alone in the audience chamber with Voldemort and his minions.
***
A/N: Ah! A nail-biter!
Well at least now I know I'll have you coming back. Cliffhangers make for nice reviews!
Also: Happy Thanksgiving!! (to all those who celebrate it). I hope yours went off well without disaster. (Although what would any holiday be without some sort of amusing horror story?!)
And as always…
Thank you to my reviewers! You guys are absolutely the best:
alka
dangelu881
Desiqueen
Dreaming One—true, this thing is all over the place. And the butter knife? Meant he was looking at her dully. Don't ask me, it was a stupid late-night writing binge thing.
hotaru420
Megan—I AM proud! Thank you!
MsLessa—bloody little Muses did harass me. But I appreciated it.
Padfootsknightingale—I can't either, because as of right now I don't know (!!!)
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Unicorn 13—I love long reviews. And to answer your question: I am but a lowly freshman. L
WitchyPrincess—I'm so happy that you think that because I HATE those clichés. Ick.
Keep reviewing; I love it!
Much love—
Mme.