The look on Severus Snape's face was impassive. He sat in the kitchen of the headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix, listening to Dumbledore speak. After the headmaster had finished, he waited for a beat then began.
"She was ambushed in Muggle London by Bellatrix Lestrange and her nephew, Dayrin Lestrange. She fought hard, wounding Bellatrix, but sustained a head injury, rendering her incapable of effective escape. Voldemort himself questioned her, only to realize that she is indeed resistant to both Veritaserum and Legilimency. She was apparently quite rude to him; typical of Miss Granger to speak before thinking. We shall blame it on the head injury, hm? She has been remanded to the care of Dayrin, who has expressed…interest in her. He is to break her by more conventional methods." Snape paused for a moment and Harry seized the opportunity.
"You have to help her then! Save her! Do something, you can't just let them torture her!" Ron remained eerily silent.
"Don't be an idiot, Harry." Ginny spoke impatiently. "He can't just break her out. They'll both get killed and his cover will be blown. It's the stupidest idea I've ever heard; haven't you ever considered subtlety? It's no wonder you're friends with Ron. Besides, obviously he's done something or he wouldn't be sitting there so placidly, so let him finish." The warning in her tone silenced Harry before he could respond.
Snape glanced at Arthur Weasley. "It must be comforting to know that at least one of your children is not a hopeless dunderhead." Molly turned scarlet, while Arthur smiled. Bill Weasley laughed.
"High praise from you, Professor. All you ever told me is that I had enough brains to survive to adulthood, but my existence beyond that was anyone's guess."
"And I see myself proven right yet again. In any case, Miss Weasley is right. I managed to convince Voldemort that he'd just had the brilliant idea of having me heal her every night after her…sessions with Lestrange. That way she'd last longer and the prospect of endless healing followed by torture would break her psychologically. I would also become a proxy father figure: she might open up to me, revealing more than she ever would to her torturers. Muggles call it 'Stockholm Syndrome.' That is what will happen—in theory. In reality it will buy me time to figure out a way to help her escape without compromising my own situation."
"Of course, your situation is paramount," Harry muttered.
"Oh shut up Harry!" Ginny was exasperated. "Obviously he's more useful to the Order alive and spying than dead and having been fed enough Veritaserum to choke a horse!" Remus Lupin snorted morosely and Snape looked somewhat bemused.
"I must return, Headmaster. My presence will be missed and it will soon be time for me to tend to Miss Granger. I will update you regularly."
He rose swiftly and exited, leaving the remainder of those in the room quiet and pensive.
Harry rose to leave, angry and frustrated, and Ginny grabbed his arm, pulling him into a hug.
"I know you're worried, we all are. Trust him Harry. There's no other choice," she whispered gently. He tensed up, then relaxed and began shaking in her arms. Slowly, the others drifted out. Fred and George left last, looking dazed and leaving Ron sitting at the table, staring at nothing while Remus patted his back and murmured to him in a low voice, and Harry being rocked soothingly by Ginny.
Hermione groaned in pain as Bellatrix released the Cruciatus. "I wish I could have you for myself. I've always wondered if anyone could last longer than the Longbottoms did. I think you could." She leered at Hermione.
"Thanks. Something to put on my resume," Hermione spat. Bellatrix walked around her and picked up a leather whip from the ground. Hermione clenched her jaw and tried not to scream as it ripped into her back. Your mouth gets you in so much trouble. Don't scream. Just don't. She's not worth your screams. Bellatrix came up behind her and ran a hand down her arm and side.
"How does Dumbledore plan to defeat our lord?"
"Your lord."
She felt something warm and realized Bellatrix had lit her wand. This is going to hurt. The flame touched one of the open wounds on the fleshy part of her back and she finally screamed and passed out.
When Hermione woke, she was crumpled into a ball in the corner of the dungeon-like room and someone was gently pulling her into a sitting position. She lashed out reflexively with the knife they had failed to remove from her waistband and someone caught her wrist in a gentle but firm grip.
"I'm here to help, Miss Granger," came the low mellifluous voice.
"No offense, but I'd have to be a complete moron to believe you."
"I'm not asking you to believe me then. I suggest you use the knife more prudently in the future. In any case I shall do to you as I please."
"True, but I don't have to make it easy." He applied a potion to her face to heal the blood vessels she'd ruptured during the Cruciatus. She sighed in relief and relaxed into his touch. "Or I can make it easy."
"I thought you might feel that way." He gathered her gently in his arms and lifted her. Hermione grunted in pain. Snape set her down on bench he'd transfigured and stepped around her.
He began to murmur spells and apply potions to heal the burnt, weeping gouges on her back. She shocked him by refraining from asking questions. He shocked her by gently stroking her back.
"I will help you in any way I can. It is safe to talk here, I've cast several charms to safeguard the room. When I am here you are protected by me."
"Can you stay forever?" She smiled wanly. "I'm going to be here for awhile, aren't I?" she asked softly.
"Yes, you probably will," he replied honestly.
"I'll make it."
"I know you will," he said confidently. She laughed, then squeaked as he reset her wrist.
"Couldn't you have transfigured a big leather couch or something?" she asked jokingly as she shifted on the hard bench.
"It's worse when you go back to hanging from the ceiling if you've enjoyed that moment of comfort."
"Speaking from experience, I presume." He grunted and went to work on the deeper gouges on her back with a second potion.
Who knew God looked like Severus Snape? Or at least one of His angels happens to bear a passing resemblance.
"You will be turned over to Dayrin Lestrange tomorrow. He will be worse than Bellatrix. Prepare yourself."
"Yeah. Fantastic. I'm gonna come out of that one in excruciating pain, aren't I?"
"Probably. I shall be here when you do."
"Careful, Professor. I might start thinking you're human if you continue like this. That's how rumours start."
"I would be only too glad to hear such rumours. It would mean you've survived this intact."