WARNING: HBP SPOILERS

A/N: I took my story, "Have Faith in Me", off for several different reasons, mainly because it just wasn't working for me anymore. I had a good time writing it, but after going back and reading it again each time, it made it seem more and more juvenile to me. I wanted to write something with substance and something that would seem a little more realistic-well, as realistic as writing about magic could be. So I decided to wait until after HBP came out and I had read it. This story is the result of the plot bunny that began jumping up and down and multiplying by osmosis. By the way, since many of you reviewed that my OC, Danae, was a likeable character and found her interesting, she will be in this one. The basic principles of my other fic are the same; Danae's heritage, her occupation, etc. For those of you who didn't read "Have Faith in Me", Danae will be explained. I hope that if you didn't read the other one, you will give this one a chance, and I hope that this story will garner a bit more attention than "Have Faith in Me" did.

Disclaimer: The goddess of all creation in the Harry Potter world is J.K. Rowling. I did not help her in any way to create any of this, nor am I actually her (darn it).

A/N #2: This is an eventual HG/SS, btw. I can't seem to want to write anything else. However, it may take a while to get that way. I think Hermione is going to need some convincing.

Prologue

It was with great relief when the two dark figures moving swiftly through the forest found the tiny cabin. They had been running for three weeks, seldom stopping for food or sleep. They came upon the cabin in the middle of the night, having little light to see by from the thumbnail moon shining down through the canopy of leaves above. It had done nothing to help them find their way, hampering them mostly, as roots and animals had hidden themselves away in the shadows. Had there been more light, the two figures in dark cloaks would probably have been less exhausted, therefore more likely to be wary coming upon the cabin, but with their flight, along with the fight against the underbrush, weariness had set in, causing an unguarded relief.

It was not long before they realised their mistake. They had become too unguarded, and the realisation that they had made it so far without letting their fear and fatigue take over, only to be captured as soon as they had let it down, brought a new irony to their hearts. A voice had rung through the night, echoing off the trunks of the trees, and a bright, unnatural light lit up the area they were in just before complete and utter darkness invaded their sight.

Severus Snape awoke to the nickering and whinnying of horses and the doleful cry of mourning doves. He did not move as he woke, but remained absolutely still as all his senses came back to him. First was his sense of smell. Earthy aromas filled the air around his nostrils, a mixture of soil, decaying leaves, and even a slight hint of manure, followed by the scent of fresh cut grass, heady flowers, and pine sap. His sense of hearing had come next, the horses and birds sounding as thought they were right next to his head. Next came his sense of taste, the inside of his mouth like that of a Muggle cat's litter pan, 'Which,' he thought, 'isn't unusual'. The sense of touch came next, and with it the thought that his sense of taste was much more pleasant. Opening his eyes made the reality of his situation that much worse.

Unfortunately for him, he had been sleeping rather well under the spell that had taken Draco and him out the night before. At least, he thought it was the night before. It had allowed their captor to put them in the state that they were in. Severus blinked several times, trying to clear the magic-induced sleep from his eyes, only somewhat successfully. He could not see much of Draco, but what he could see made his blood run cold. When he realised he was in a similar state, he wished he would pass out again and never awaken.

Both Severus and Draco were positioned on their backs on a magical cushion of air that might have been comfortable if it had not been for the way their limbs were arranged. A thick rawhide strap tied around their wrists and ankles connected them to a separate winged unicorn, so that there were four unicorns facing opposite directions away from the person they were tied to. In fact, the more Severus thought about it, the more worried he became. The longer he lay there, the longer he became convinced through the pain in his arms and legs that there was no magic cushion below him, but he was being kept from the ground by the goodness of his shoulder and hip bones staying inside their sockets.

It was also quite humiliating. 'Not such a great spy, after all, old boy,' he thought to himself. 'First time out without any support from either side and you go and muck it up.'

Draco chose that time to moan loudly and move slightly in his pained slumber. The sudden sound and movement from behind them caused a near panic to ripple through the unicorns, or at least it felt like it to Severus. While they had only shifted restlessly, the pain was so excruciating that it took all Severus had not to scream. Ribbons of pain and fire lashed at his tightly controlled emotions, causing a tear to leak out of his right eye, but he swore to himself that whoever had captured him would not hear a single sound come from him.

Draco, however, had no such qualms. With the shifting of the small herd, Draco came immediately awake, screaming in such agony that Severus was not quite prepared. It made no difference to the unicorns, who continued to stand there passively, tails and ears twitching. The longer Draco screamed, the louder he became, until all Severus could hear was a ringing in his ears. Each scream undulated around them, echoing off the trees, off the cabin, and even off the unicorns, reverberating so that Severus could not tell the beginning from the end.

He wanted to scream himself, at least to yell at Draco to stop; it was driving him mad! The pain he knew he was feeling was equal to that of Draco's, but he swore to himself that he would not give anyone else the satisfaction, ever again, of hearing him cry out. He knew that if he opened his mouth at all, even to try to calm his ward down, he would end up doing the same thing.

Finally, when Draco had cried himself hoarse, Severus sighed his relief. He tried to relax minutely, a little at a time so that his muscles had time to stretch with the weight of his body. Briefly he wondered where their captor was, if he or she would return either before the unicorns decided that they needed to be drawn and quartered, or before the mourning doves turned into vultures. It occurred to him also that he needed not only food and water, but he also needed to relieve himself. He quickly suppressed his thoughts about all three of those things. It would do no good to dwell on what he knew he would not be receiving any time soon.

So he ignored Draco's harsh breathing, struck down the thought that Draco was hyperventilating and would soon pass out, and began to distance his mind from his body. He slowly fell into another deep sleep, this time induced by his own psyche.

When Severus next awoke, it was to the feeling that his bones in his arms and legs were breaking. 'They are finally taking off,' he thought, and prepared himself for his demise. It wasn't to be, however, and a strange sensation touched his back, worming its way through the pain he felt in other parts of his body, and realised he was now lying prone on the ground. His further amazement came when he realised that the pain was only that, pain, and no pressure from gravity to pull at his joints. Although he couldn't move without wanting to black out, he was grateful that there were no more bonds at the ends of his limbs. The fact that he could no longer feel his hands or feet only gave him slight concern, the easing of the pull on his joints overwhelming his thoughts.

Not realising how terrified he had been, Severus' head lolled around in relief, but stopped when it came to rest on the figure that he had just noticed standing above him. It wasn't until the figure spoke that Severus understood what was about to happen.

"Hello, Severus."

And with that, Severus did scream.

"Severus, would you hold still, please?" came a frustrated voice from beside his right ear. He grimaced; he was trying to stay still but could only writhe with pain. His arms still ached and his legs felt like they had been detached from his body and then shoved back into place. Every muscle in his body felt as though it had been ripped out and the Cruciatus Curse placed on each individual section of flesh. His hands and feet were curled in upon themselves, feeling as though needles were puncturing his flesh continuously. His skin burned, and he knew that he had to have been exposed to the sun for at least two days.

"If you will keep quiet and let me put this potion on you, I guarantee that you will feel better," the voice came again, more softly than before. "Just relax and try to breathe through your nose."

Severus tried to do as told, in too much pain not to trust the soothing voice, too tired to try to make his body react to what his mind was screaming at him to do. So he relaxed as much as possible, and when the light touches of potion to his sore muscles and burned skin began to relieve him of his pain, he was able to completely quiet the voice telling him to hex whoever was touching him.

Not long after the soft touches came water, to dry, cracked, and bleeding lips. He assumed that he was dehydrated and opened his mouth greedily. The pins and needles in his hands had lessened their assault somewhat and he reached blindly for the vessel that the sweetest water he had ever tasted came from. The muscles in his arms were stiff, but they did not scream at him, which was another thing he was grateful for.

"If you would open your eyes and try to sit up, I will give you the cup," said the voice. He slowly let his hands fall to his sides, and taking a deep breath, cracked his eyes open.

What he saw was definitely not what he expected. This person was not the figure that had spoken to him outside, it couldn't be! Outside had been a horrible creature, a cross between a hag and an Erkling, short with green skin, long pointed face and nose, and short pudgy fingers. Its teeth had appeared as many points in a blood red mouth, and its hair had the appearance of mud covered hanks that were matted to its head. Its eyes and tongue had been black as death, and the scream it had torn from him was evidence of how hideous he thought it to be.

This person was beautiful, at least to his mind. She had long hair the color of a raven's wing, eyes that glowed silver, and a smile that infused comfort into his heart. She smirked when she noticed his eyes opening in surprise.

"Ah, I see you were not impressed with my glamour from earlier," she laughed. "It is a necessary charm. Keeps out the unwanted guests." Here she frowned. "Normally."

He looked at her uncomprehendingly. He felt that he should know her, know her very well, and even after his horrendous experience, he knew that he could trust her. That trust ran very deep, something he felt in his bones, and he wondered at this. Who was she?

"In case you were wondering, Draco is fine." She smiled at him again as she helped him sit up. "In fact, he is in better shape than you are. He is already up and walking around." She pushed a pillow behind his back and handed him the cup of water. It wasn't until then that he noticed he was in a large down-filled bed in a room filled with books and parchments. His eyes roamed the room, trying to get a feel for who this person was.

Noticing his gaze, the woman tending him sighed. "You never stop, do you?"

This surprised him again, and he swallowed a small amount of the water before trying to speak. He was pleased to hear the words issue from his mouth, and although they were hoarse and sounded rusty, he knew they got the point across.

"Madam, I have no idea who you are, but I need to know. I also respectfully request you tell me why you are here and who gave you permission to use this cabin, which has been in my family for centuries?"

The governors had closed Hogwarts. They had known it was coming, but it was still a shock when the hope of keeping it open was completely shot down. Many thought that with the threat of teachers being under the influence of You Know Who, it was a good thing to close the school. Some thought that home-schooling their children would be a much better thing to do, that they could do it just as well. A few would be hiring tutors to help them with their children's magical education. All of these, however, would be those with pureblood or half-blood families.

Hermione thought that the governors had played right into You Know Who's plans. They had done exactly what he wanted them to do. She was staying with Harry and many of the remnants of the Order of the Phoenix at number twelve Grimmauld Place. She, Ron, and Harry had lived at Hogwarts for a couple of weeks until word had come to them that they had to leave. It had not been decided exactly where they needed to go, but they knew that the only place for them at the moment was Grimmauld Place.

The question that had been plaguing them was: what to do now? They knew what they needed to do, or more specifically, what Harry needed to do, but how would they go about doing it? The school was closed down, meaning that no Muggle-born wizards or witches would be able to be trained at Hogwarts. That left the other magical schools to take up the slack. Durmstrang could not be depended upon to teach them, and Beauxbatons did not have the ability to house so many. Not only that, it was just a matter of time before You Know Who would focus his evil on them, also.

It had left the Order with too few people to help in the fight. Where would their help come from? No, they could not use children, and with fewer Muggle-borns, there would be fewer people to fight for. After all, the purebloods and the half-bloods were not in any danger unless they openly defied You Know Who. This fact was brought up again and again at the table, both while they were still at Hogwarts and at Grimmauld Place, and no one had any answers.

Hermione, of course, was doing what she did best. The Black family library was a wealth of information, and she studiously researched all the information on Horcruxes, objects of the founders that had either never been recovered or had been stolen, and soul rendering. There were times, though, when she became depressed about the repetition of knowledge within the books, and let her mind wander to Professor Snape. During those times she would look up information on Unbreakable Vows, finding information on those who had broken them and those who had kept them. She had come to a conclusion that no one in the house would like, especially Harry, and continuously beat herself up about it. No, she didn't think that he was innocent, but that he had had no choice, and therefore his intentions could not be speculated upon as evil.

She never voiced this to anyone, guilt taking over every time someone said something bad about Snape. She may have agreed with them, but there was still a little nagging doubt in the back of her mind that told her he may not be as guilty as everyone thought. There was also the guilt from her loyalty to Dumbledore. Here she was, defending his murderer, if only in her own mind.

She had been in the library for several hours, and had been reading a book on the Horcrux of Osiris, when she had decided to call it a day. There were few things that she found to parallel the life of You Know Who to that of Osiris, with one exception. They each wished for immortality. She found it fascinating that legend vilified Osiris' brother Seth for killing him, when all he really did was help rend Osiris' soul, not his body. It was Isis who brought all the pieces of his soul back together, and banished it to the underworld. Hermione figured the legend had to have been written by a woman, possibly a priestess of Isis, as the true story did not make either deity look good. Making a concerted effort to think about Osiris and not Snape, she had walked out of the library and, literally, into Ron.

"Hermione! You have got to come to the kitchen, quickly!" Ron said, excitement and tension lighting up his face. "Remus just called in and said that there is to be a meeting in a few minutes, and we all need to be there."

Ron leaned down closer to her, his eyes wide. Quietly he whispered in her ear, as though he did not want anyone to hear, "Rumour has it that Snape and Malfoy have both been found!"

Stunned, all Hermione could do was look at him. Finally, after a few moments of looking into Ron's expectant face, she shook herself mentally, grabbed his hand, and began pulling on him.

"Well, what are you just standing there for? Let's get in there."

As she led him down the stairs to the kitchen, she grimly hoped that whoever had found Snape had not killed him before he was questioned.

Within moments of Ron's and Hermione's entrance into the kitchen, it was filled to overflowing with those sympathetic to the Order. Some had come from as far away as France and Germany to attend. It wasn't until then that Hermione realised that the information that was to be distributed was so strong a lead. While there had been rumours of sightings of both Snape and Malfoy, they usually did not pan out, or were so obviously wrong that they were not even followed up on.

This was different. The Order was by no means organised -that had gone with the death of its leader- nor did it support as many members as was rumored to be in Voldemort's ranks. However, there were enough to make this show of support extremely impressive, having gotten the word out to so many of its members in so short a time. It had to be big news.

All the Weasleys were there, including Fleur, along with Remus and Tonks, most of the Hogwarts staff, Mad-Eye Moody and some Order-loyal Ministry Aurors and officials, and others who had been inducted at unknown times throughout the past few years. They were those who no one would guess would be working as spies or fighting against evil. They were the mothers who stayed at home and took care of the kids, the fathers who worked at dead-end jobs, and the orphans from the first war. They were all there in support of the light, and it made Hermione proud to be part of something good.

Until organisation could be brought back to the Order, it was decided that Minerva McGonagall would preside over Order meetings and be their unofficial leader. She had access to all that Dumbledore had had, all his thoughts, memoirs, and all the information that had been gathered previously. When she arrived, the room hushed immediately.

"My friends," she said, looking around. "I have some good news for us, and some bad news. The good news is that we have found both Severus Snape and Draco Malfoy. The bad news is, so has Voldemort."

There was a slight gasp when she said his name, but after the initial shock, confused murmurings could be heard.

Hermione frowned. What did that mean, so had Voldemort? Someone from the back stood up and addressed the professor.

"Wait a moment. I thought that Snape and Malfoy were working for Voldemort. Why would they be running from him? If they are not aligned with him, who are they with? If they aren't with him, why should we be concerned if Voldemort captures them?"

McGonagall sat down tiredly. Hermione thought that she was looking older every day, aging almost as quickly as Dumbledore had in his last few months.

"Before I answer your questions, I do have to say that there is more. They are protected at this moment; Voldemort can not get to them. Unfortunately, neither can we. We will have to wait for the person protecting them to deem them able to come out of hiding."

A round of protests began until the professor held up her hand. "We must all abide by this. Their protection stems from someone who is loyal to Dumbledore and has been since birth. When she feels they are ready to return, she will bring them to us. There will be no fighting with them or her, and there will be no dissention. I will vouch for her myself when the time comes."

Some of the members appeared mutinous, but none vocalised any concerns they had with McGonagall. All were quiet as she spoke.

"To answer your question of whose side they are on, I can say that I do not know about Mr. Malfoy. I do know that what he did was follow an order from Voldemort," she said, looking around. Her voice grew stern on her next words.

"As for Severus Snape, we have evidence that he may be innocent."

There was so much noise from the protests that Hermione was sure that the Muggles on the other side of London could hear them.

A/N: I hope that you liked the little introduction to this story. Yes, it is going to be a little dark, nothing fluffy here. However, there will be great romance in this story, much like the great romances of old movies and great novels. I don't know yet if I will do any smut, I want a seriously challenging story without the clutter of having to devote a chapter to sex. However, you never know.

Don't forget to let me know what you think! Please review!

By the way, the bit about Osiris I made up. It is based on the legend that his brother Seth had killed him, put him in a box, and built a temple around him. Later, his wife Isis found him. Before she could do anything with his body, Seth dismembered it and flung his parts away. Isis gathered them together, reformed the body with wax, then breathed life into him. Unfortunately, the gods would not allow him to stay on earth, but gave him rule over the underworld. I thought it would be kind of neat to make him out to be a little like Voldemort.

Also, thanks go out to my beta, Vaughn. Poor thing had to look at this with half the commas missing!