Disclaimer: We, the sixsexypsychos do not own any recognizable characters or settings. All recognizable creative property belongs solely to a one JK Rowling. No copyright infringement intended.

Writers: (In sequence of appearance): Gothrine, Metalla and somewhere along the fic, injected a few lines here and there, Sylphera.

Chapter 3: Dark Marks and Mudbloods

"Blimey, what on earth is this doing here? In my pocket, no less…" Filch shook the jar violently, "How disgusting." The lifeless animal bounced up and down, continuously banging against the glass walls of the small jar.

Not knowing where he was going, he wandered aimlessly through the corridors, passing curious students. There was a commotion up ahead and students scuttled out of the way hurriedly, parting like a sea of black robes for a certain Potions Master that was in a foul-mood. Snape halted directly in front of Filch, his black eyes smoldering with barely suppressed rage. They stood, almost toe to toe and Snape's gaze flickered to the floating dead toad. His bad temper hung around him like a noxious black cloud,

"Where did you get that?" he asked, his voice dangerously low.

Filch staggered a few steps backwards when he saw the expression etched on the other man's face. Snape towered over him; his expression was enough to make a grown giant cower.

"Wh-what?" Filch stammered.

"Where did you get that toad?" Snape repeated, his patience hanging by a thread.

"Toad?" Filch glanced down at the dead amphibian staring dully at him from inside the glass jar that he was clutching tightly.

Snape hissed impatiently, "Have your cleaning solutions addled your brains, you miserable cretin? Yes you imbecile, the toad."

"Er… I found it, sir."

The expression on Snape's sallow face grew even darker. "Hand that over, Filch," he held his hand out for the jar.

For some undetermined reason, Filch felt very reluctant to part with the creature. It was as if the poor dead thing was somehow important to him. The caretaker held the jar even tighter and eyed the other man suspiciously, "Why?"

Snape bared his teeth in annoyance, "A pickled toad has gone missing from my private store. I have reason to believe that Potte- a student has dared my wrath for it. That is rightfully mine, Filch, hand it over."

"Aye? What makes you think…" Filch quailed as Snape took a step nearer.

"Did you not hear what I had just said? Give it here," hissed Snape.

Unable to tolerate the caretaker any longer, he snatched the jar from the dumbfounded Filch and strode away, seething. His black robed billowing ominously around him as he descended into the dungeons.

Filch stared after the Potions Master, too confused to move or speak. There was something unusually familiar about that toad. Perhaps it was the expressive big eyes staring back at him, its mouth partially open. He fought the urge to chase after Snape and get back his toad.

His toad…

He had found it first of all, had it not? Finders keepers, Losers weepers.

Filch was determined to get it back.

"Powdered eyebright and chopped snake root… a pinch of euphrasia…" Snape added the ingredients into his cauldron cautiously, "Add in pickled toad, stir thrice and allow to simmer for a fortnight."

He stirred lovingly; eyes alight with his passion of potion making. He pointed his wand beneath the black cauldron and adjusted the flames low. The potion changed from vivid red to ivory, with a distinctive mother-of-pearl sheen.

"My Love Potion Number 9… Soon, my Hermione, soon…"

Hermione Granger crept out of the boys dormitories, Harry's treasured Invisibility Cloak tucked carefully under an arm. Her guilty conscience was fervently nagging at her senses. She really shouldn't be doing this.

Making sure that no one was around; she quietly slipped on the silver cloak and silently descended the stone steps leading to the Gryffindor Common room. She passed Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil on her way out of the portrait hole, nearly voicing out a greeting, but stopped herself in time.

She glanced at her watch and nearly cursed out loud; she was late… yet again. She knew he didn't like tardiness and wished desperately that he'd forgive her – Lucius Malfoy was very creative in his punishments.

Hermione winced at the memory and blushed prettily; her bum felt as if it were still smarting from the humiliating spanking he had given her. Lord, his palm fell swift and hard on her tenderness and he didn't stop until she had begged him through her tears. But, underneath his cold, hard demeanor, under his snarky and sometimes hurtful remarks, he had a fantastic mind, and an even greater body. The Gryffindor shivered with delight.

She hurried along the corridors, descending various steps stealthily and into the gardens. She breathed a sigh of relief and slipped off the cloak. Something grabbed her, cupping her mouth from behind.

"You're late," a voice whispered in her ear.

Her startled scream was muffled by his warm palm. She struggled and tried to get him to release his vice grip on her but her attempt was futile. She finally gave up after a few moments of kicking and scratching fruitlessly.

"Are you just about done trying to physically destroy me?" he asked, his breath hot against her neck.

She let out a small noise that sounded trapped, weary – a weak protest. He curled his neck around her, inhaling the floral scent of her hair. "Hmm…" he purred, velvet lips grazing the lobe of her ear, "…you smell nice…"

"What do you think you are doing?" came a voice from the darkness, a dangerous quality underlining the almost casual tone.

Snape released his hold on his student immediately and spun around. His black eyes narrowed and he glared intently at the newcomer.

"Lucius."

The blonde man inclined his head, a sneer twisting his aristocratic features.

"I should be asking you the same question. What business does someone like you have in the school grounds, in the dead of night?"

"That is none of your concern, Severus"

Hermione sighed at the argument. How could she have forgotten her detention with her Potions instructor?

"Hermione, you idiot," she whispered to herself.

If the men heard her, they gave no indication. "Oh, I believe it is, Lucius," Snape replied, in a chilly tone.

"The Dark Lord has his reasons for keeping his latest schemes a secret." Lucius bit back equally coldly.

Snape stiffened almost imperceptibly and sneered. "On contrary, my friend, I doubt he has shared information with you on the latest planned endeavor with the French Ministry of Magic.'

Lucius narrowed his eyes to tiny slits, an angry glint in his silver orbs, "Perhaps then, it should have occurred to you that you have been kept in the dark about the plan regarding Emmeline Vance?"

They glared at each other in stony silence, challenging the other. Hermione shifted her weight from foot to foot anxiously.

"Oh, honestly," she snapped impatiently, flinging her arms open in exasperation, "The Dark Lord is so stupid to ever tell you guys anything! I told him not to share any of the plans because you can't be trusted!" She crossed her arms peevishly, "What? Testing and prodding each other's egos and ranking in the Inner Circle not good enough? Just bloody duel already!"

They stared at her in shock.

"You… are a Death Eater?" Lucius asked softly.

She gave him a very Slytherin smirk, "I guess the snake is out of the basket then" she said, pushing up her sleeve to show clear, unblemished skin. "Infinite Incantatem." The Glamour Charm stopped working and both men saw the Dark Mark contrasting sharply against her milky white skin.

The two men gaped at the familiar glowing Mark in complete shock.

"But… But, how could it be?" Snape spluttered in disbelief

"Not a word of this gets out, you understand me?" Hermione hissed.

Lucius was eyeing the unique pattern with intent interest. He reached forward and caught hold of her wrist, pushing up the sleeve as he did so. His grip was painfully tight as he studied the Mark carefully. His silvery-grey eyes gleamed with cunning intend.

"This Mark…" he said softly.

"It's real," she spat, trying to wrestle her hand free.

Snape moved his attention to her wrist, "Let me see that," he snapped, grabbing hold of her hand with little grace, "Impossible… one of the Golden Trio…" he sneered, the sharp nail of his thumb dug painfully into her skin. He was quiet for a moment. "We will know if she is speaking the truth only when the time comes," he said at last.

"How dare you question me?" she snarled, wrenching her arm away at least, "Do you know that it was I who made Ginny miserable enough to keep writing in that charmed diary? I didn't do it outright, or course – Ron would have been on to me. Slytherin subtlety… Draco was most helpful…"

Lucius was studying her carefully, an unreadable mask on his face, "Has the Dark Lord marked you?"

"Don't be deliberately stupid, Lucius, it doesn't suit you," she spat viciously, "I have the Mark, don't I?"

"Indeed, you have the Mark. But my meaning was different. I ask you again, woman, has the Dark Lord marked you… as his?"

Snape snapped his head around, staring first at Lucius then at his student. Hermione flushed but held their gazes steadily, "Whatever do you mean?" she asked silkily.

"You know perfectly well what I mean. Now answer me, has he?" Lucius snapped. The expression on his face was steely.

"I fail to see if it is any of your business. These matters lie between the Dark Lord and I," she replied smoothly.

"None of my business? Oh, I believe it is, Miss Granger," Lucius took a menacing step forward. Hermione wasn't intimidated, however. She stood her ground and continued to return his fiery glare defiantly. He caught hold of her chin and tugged her forward, closer until they were just a breath away.

"No one defies a Malfoy, particularly little mudbloods like you," he whispered his threat. He nodded to Snape, who seemed to understand his intent. He raised his wand.

"Legilimens," Snape intoned, his baritone barely above a whisper.

Instantly, Hermione was filled with a carefree sense; everything seemed so right. She smiled dreamily. Snape frowned when he came to a mental wall erected before him. He tested its strength. He pushed hard and felt, rather than saw the young woman wince.

"Don't fight me, Granger."

To his surprise, she smirked faintly, "There are something that you are not to know off, Professor."

Snape glanced at Lucius who nodded curtly. Hermione cried out and all but slumped into Lucius's strong arms as Snape mercilessly attacked her mind. The Potions Master failed to stifle a gasp as vivid images and memories flooded out in a torrent from the breached fortress. He pulled out of her mind and ended the spell. Lucius watched as his friend panted and wiped salty sweat from his brow with a shaking hand.

"Well?"

Snape shook his head, "Bloody hell."

To be continued...