'You will make this potion for me, Severus, or,' the Dark Lord bared his teeth in what he obviously thought to be a sinister smile, 'you will suffer.' He swept his fingers lovingly along his wand, his crimson eyes following their movement with apparent interest.

'As I have said, my Lord,' Snape began shortly. 'No such potion exists with the effects you are demanding. There is no potion to even emulate what --'

Lord Voldemort, having been listening with seemingly only a vague interest sat upright on his throne.'I have little patience, Severus. Your loyalty is questionable already and I demand you do this to redeem yourself. I am certain you are capable of creating potions, are you not? Especially if you need to. Even more so if you need to to preserve your own life.'

Behind his silver mask Snape's eyes raised to his master. They were filled with unconquerable fear. Instinctively, he closed off his mind, shielded it against the damage that could be done, protecting himself from insanity. He was more than capable of sacrificing his body's safety for his mind.

'Crucio,' the Dark Lord's voice drawled.

Snape was seized with pain instantly. Surgical blades were piercing every inch of his flesh, white hot and searing his body. As he felt his skin begin to bubble and blacken the curse was lifted. Voldemort's wand was directed somewhere else, no longer as a weapon but merely in a directionary manner. 'Lucius. Deliver our friend,' he sneered, 'back to the border of the school. Do not allow yourself to be seen, the Azkaban guards are becoming irritable at having to repeatedly allow your escape.' He turned and walked further into the cavern serving as his lair and allowed the tall, savage blonde to roughly drag Snape to his unstable feet.

'Portus.' he commanded a clasp at his throat, removing it deftly. He forced it unceremoniously into Snape's shivering hands and they both felt a tug towards Lucius' chosen destination. At the gates of Hogwarts' School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Lucius laid his colleague down in the early snow and delivered a swift, powerful kick to his head, successfully knocking him unconscious. Stepping quickly outside of Hogwarts' grounds he apparated away, leaving Snape to be discovered in the morning.

As a prefect, when Hermione heard about a disturbance at the edge of the grounds, she asked the student reporting it exactly what had happened before resolving to go immediately to the scene. The student, however, was so distressed, apparently by what she had seen that it was all Hermione could do to convince her to lead the way to the place she had seen - the something. Upon reaching the gates topped with winged boars Hermione saw the exact reason for the fifth-year's panic. Barely recognisable lying in a struggling heap on the floor was none other than the most formiddable teacher in the history of the school.

'Go to Dumbledore. The password's 'Ice Mice'. Tell him he's needed straight away and bring him here.' Hermione watched as the girl ran for the castle and then turned, wide-eyed to her potions teacher. He was trying to form words but they were barely discernible amid his groans of agony and, Hermione was sure, misery. She didn't know what she should do. She settled for conjuring a pillow and attempting to slip it under his head. He rebuked her from where he lay, writhing away from her outstretched hands. She sat back on her heels and spoke soothingly to him. She had to know. 'Does he know? Did You-Know-Who find out about you?'

Snape's eyes widened madly and he feverishly pulled his head away from her.'No...' he managed to say. 'No...'

'You're okay now. You're back at Hogwarts. Safe.' All Hermione could think of doing until Dumbledore arrived was calm him but that seemed impossible. At the mention of Hogwarts his eyes widened again, almost bursting from his head.

Hermione frantically turned her head hoping the fifth-year hadn't been delayed. As she did so she saw the glimmer of silver that undoubtedly meant Dumbledore was on his way. Despite his antiquity he was moving at a tremendous pace, anxiously but boldly approaching the place where Snape lay.

'Severus,' he whispered as he crouched beside Hermione, 'Is the Order safe? Does Voldemort know about you?' Again, Snape's only response was an attempt to wriggle away from their questions.

'I've tried to ask but he's absolutely petrified. He's only managed to say 'No' but I don't think he even understood what I said to him. Where's Vibora?' Hermione looked around the grounds for the girl that had found Snape.

'I have sent her back inside to her dormitory. I suggest you follow suit. Though I don't expect you will take my advice on this matter.' His grave eyes twinkled momentarily before he turned back to Snape. 'Severus, I must take you to Poppy. She can help you. Can you walk?'

Snape shuddered in response and Dumbledore nodded. Withdrawing his wand from his robes he murmered 'Mobilocorpus.' and directed Snape's convulsing form towards the oaken doors of the school, following at a brisk pace. Hermione strode along side the Headmaster, watching Snape's figure with palpable anxiety. No-one saw them as they made their steady progress to the hospital wing, which Hermione suspected was not merely luck. Madame Pomfrey came bustling over to them immediately and almost shrieked aloud when she saw the tortured state of the professor. Professor Dumbledore levitated him onto a hospital bed and briefly explained to the nurse that he had been found at the entrance to the school and was to be left completely alone to recover. Madame Pomfrey placed tall curtains, which had seen much use, around Snape's bed and Dumbledore stepped outside them to address Hermione.

'What now?' the sixth-year asked as soon as she saw him emerge.

'Now? We wait.' He said calmly. 'But we do not wait here. Go to your dormitory for now, attend your classes as usual. Do not, I repeat do not, tell anybody of this, Severus would not thank you for informing his students. Now, I must inform the staff and the Order.' Dumbledore strode from the wing, holding the door open for Hermione, who politely followed him through. She wandered distractedly towards Gryffindor tower and thought about the hideous pain Snape must have endured to appear in that condition. Surprisingly she felt compassion flood her heart and manifest itself as discomfort in her throat and tears welling in her eyes. She fought them down and stepped through the portrait hole. She was met by Vibora, the fifth-year.

Fiercely meeting Hermione's evasive eyes with her own, she asked, 'Will Snape be okay?'