Disclaimer:  They aren't mine.  Not now…not ever.  Anything recognizable belongs to JKR and Company.  Anything else is simply me having a bit of fun!

A Tense Situation

Chapter Seventeen

Albus Dumbledore stared vacantly at the far wall of his office from where he sat.  His wrinkled face wore the same expression it had worn for nearly an hour; an expression of worry tinged with what could only be described as heart-felt sorrow. 

A light tapping sound on the heavy wooden door pulled him out of his trance-like state and he watched as Minerva McGonagall treaded cautiously into the office, having noted the somber expression on her long-time friend and colleague's face.

"It's done, Albus," she intoned quietly, referring to the task of alerting the Aurors of Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson's transgressions against two of her beloved Gryffindors. 

"Were there any complications?" the Headmaster asked wearily, removing his spectacles and rubbing his eyes in a manner that suggested he had not slept in days.  

"None other than what might be expected," the Transfiguration Professor replied with a touch of concern.  It was obvious that the Perattrahere spell had drained the old Wizard's energy and it was equally obvious that he would remain steadfast in his refusal to return to his quarters to obtain some much needed rest. 

That didn't stop her from trying though.

"Albus," she began tentatively but with the same tone of voice she reserved for some of her more stubborn and troublesome students, "There is nothing more you can do this evening until we hear from Severus.  The Aurors have taken Miss Parkinson and Mr. Zabini to the Ministry where they will be held until a hearing can be arranged.  At that time, both you and their parents will be required to attend."

"They will administer the Veritaserum?" he asked with more than a touch of trepidation, knowing that the Ministry frowned on using such a restricted substance on minors.  Still, there was no better way to force the truth from these two particular students, as he highly doubted that either Blaise or Pansy would come forward of their own volition and admit to their crimes.  It was a sorry state of affairs indeed when students were pitted against other students in such a manner and all the more reason to stop Tom Riddle with the utmost of haste. 

"Did they say anything of importance, Minerva?" he asked, highly doubting her answer would be positive.

"If you are asking whether or not either one of them admitted to abducting Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger then no… they said nothing of importance," she replied with a softly hissed sigh.  "If you're asking if they implicated anyone such as Severus or Draco Malfoy, then no… they did not and I am fairly certain that both men's loyalties still remain carefully guarded at this time."

"So they do not suspect Draco of either spying on them or turning them in," the Headmaster stated in a flat voice and felt a pang of relief sweep through him.  At least one of the Order's inside operatives had a chance of remaining undiscovered.  His attention turned back to the Potions Master and he felt himself frowning at the situation in which the younger man now found himself; a situation that Dumbledore himself had ultimately brought about by trying to play Voldemort's game.  A game in which most people would have claimed the stakes to be far too high but one in which he, as Head of the Order, had agreed to play when he ordered Granger and Weasley to be used as pawns.  Severus had been justified in his anger at being ordered to allow the students to place themselves in danger and even though Albus tried repeatedly to assuage his guilt by reminding himself that the plan was for the good of the Order, it still left a bitter taste in his mouth. 

There were days when he truly hated being Albus Dumbledore, leader of the Order of the Phoenix.

"You should rest, Albus," McGonagall's voice broke into his reverie.  "It may be some time before Severus returns with Miss Granger."

The Headmaster looked up and noted the concern etched into the woman's features.  She had truly been a treasure to him throughout the years and had things been different then he may have attempted to take their relationship to a more intimate level.  However, being who he was, he knew that to get too close to anyone placed them at significant risk from the likes of Tom Riddle, and others who would not hesitate to use personal feelings against him.  After all, wasn't that what he was attempting to do to Harry through his bid to rob the young man of his two closest friends?  No, Albus would not risk Minerva's life or anyone else's for his own personal gain.  It was bad enough that he was forced to do so for the sake of the Order. 

"I will rest once Severus arrives," he replied tiredly and held his hand up as if attempting to forestall any arguments that Minerva McGonagall might deem necessary.  "I can do no less and I owe him at least that much if not much more."

Neither one felt it prudent to mention the very real possibility that Severus Snape might not be returning home that evening at all. 

"I should probably mention that Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley are currently attempting to wile away the time in the Gryffindor Common Room under the guise of playing Wizard's Chess although I'm not certain that either one of them are really concentrating on the game itself," McGonagall observed, casting a slight smile at the memory of the boy's antics.  "They will need to be told something as soon as we have any information, otherwise I wouldn't put it past them to come up here and camp on your doorstep."

"You are correct, as usual, Professor McGonagall.  I would not put it past Harry to go after Voldemort on his own should tragedy befall Miss Granger this evening," Dumbledore declared thoughtfully.

"Yes, and Mr. Weasley would be right beside him," the Transfiguration Professor agreed.  "They both care for her very much."

"Which is how it should be, I suppose," Albus agreed with a sigh.  "I must admit that the thought had crossed my mind that if Severus were unable to protect Miss Granger, then Harry's anger might make him strong enough to go up against Tom and defeat him once and for all."

"Miss Granger's death would make him all the more determined but I fear that he would need to be more focused and disciplined with his anger than what he is currently capable of," Minerva replied solemnly.  "Such recklessness could well cost the boy his life, Albus."

"As well as cost the Wizarding World a victory over the Dark," the Headmaster conceded, the sorrow he felt now more tangible than ever.  "There are times when I think that it is I who have turned into the monster, Minerva."     

"It's not your fault, Albus," she quietly assured him, being all too familiar with his expressions throughout the years.  It was obvious from the furrowed white brow and the wrinkled frown that had taken up residence over his facial features that he was once again experience a bout of self-recrimination. 

"No?" he questioned tightly, "If the blame does not lie with me than whom else should it lie with?"

"We are in the midst of a war that is not of our own making.  Losses are to be expected."

"I assumed as a result of your rather loud outburst earlier that you did not approve of my plan to allow Severus to present Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley to Voldemort," he remarked, staring pointedly over the rims of his wire frames at the fidgeting woman.

"Oh, Albus, I do wish you would refrain from using his name!" she muttered in exasperation.  "And no, I do not approve of sending students into the snake's den, but that does not mean that I will not stand behind you.  It simply means that I disagree with some of your methods."

"Thank you, Minerva, for your unfailing support," he answered softly, grateful for her friendship.  "I only wish that others could see and accept things as you seem to do, my dear."

"If you are referring to Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley then I wouldn't worry," she answered briskly.  "They are young and in time they will understand that you have made these decisions because they were best for the Wizarding world as a whole."

"Severus is not as young as either Harry or Ron and he does not seem to understand this," Dumbledore remarked sadly. 

"Severus understands better than any of us what needs to be done, Albus," McGonagall responded softly, her eyes tearing up at the thought of what the brooding Professor had gone through during the past several years in order to maintain his position within the Dark Lord's ranks.  "But you must remember that he feels the need to place himself in whatever danger might be required as a means of penance for that which he voluntarily walked into when he was younger.  In his eyes, Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley have not made the same unfortunate mistakes that he made so many years ago and to place them in this level of danger goes against all that he believes.  His heart is not has hardened as he would have us all think."

"You are far too wise, Minerva, though assuming that Severus does manage to return to us, I would not mention that you believe him to have a heart," the Headmaster said with a soft chuckle as he imagined the grimace of disdain that would undoubtedly cross the younger man's face.

"And be hexed into oblivion?" she retaliated with a heartfelt sense of mirth, "Never!"

Their much needed round of levity served to raise their spirits ever so slightly.  Dumbledore smiled tiredly at the woman sitting in front of him and gestured to the china teapot that rested on the desk. 

"Would you care for a cup of tea?" he offered.  "I could have the House-Elves send up a fresh pot along with some of those pastries stuffed with that delectable fruit filling.  I believe you would find the lemon filled ones particularly satisfying."

"I'd like that," she answered softly, drawing her seat closer to his desk.  A moment later she began to carefully pour the steaming tea from the brightly colored pot that had been delivered within seconds by the all too efficient House-Elves that resided within the castle walls. 

Despite their discussion, Minerva knew that nothing had really changed. The evening still stretched interminably before them and the danger to Severus and Miss Granger was just as real now as it had been when she entered the office.  However, a small part of her being took comfort in the fact that she could at least offer the worried Wizard, now munching happily on a lemon filled pastry, a little companionship as they awaited the uncertain outcome that fate would hand them.  It wasn't much, but honesty forced her to admit that it was certainly better than worrying alone. 

It was all Hermione could do to keep herself from gagging on the small cloud of dust that had been stirred up as Lucius Malfoy cruelly forced her to kneel before the Dark Lord.  Her head hung low and her face hovered but a few mere inches above the dark, dry dirt of the barren field in which they had Apparated to. 

A decaying stench permeated the air and she bit back the bile that rose in her throat.  The knowledge that such a stench emanated from the reptilian-like creature that sat ominously in front of her did nothing to help allay the almost overwhelming nausea.  Tendrils of fear spread through her body as quickly as fire to dry timber, tugging at her emotions and clouding her mind.  She struggled to maintain her composure but the situation in which she now found herself thrust was unlike anything she could have imagined.  Why hadn't Harry told her how horrifying Voldemort really was?   

'I will not cry,' she whispered silently, vowing that she would die before allowing the dark creature and his minions to glean even the most minute sense of satisfaction from her fear.  How she would accomplish such a feat when every nerve in her body screamed to do exactly that was beyond her at the moment but somehow… one way or another… accomplish it she would. 

'Gryffindor courage, Miss Granger,' the baritone voice in her mind that sounded so much like the Potions Master whispered yet again, soothing her frightened nerves ever so slightly.  She clung to that voice and forced herself to focus on the more important matters at hand.  She had no doubt that the Dark Lord expected her fear to keep her off-balance.  Not only would it afford him a sadistic type of pleasure, but it would also serve to render her easier to manipulate so that she would tell him whatever it was he wanted to know.  And he did want to know something… of that she was certain.  The only question was whether or not he expected her to comply and bring forth damaging information on Harry or Professor Snape.   

'Probably both,' her logical mind whispered as her shoulders slumped ever so slightly in an unconscious gesture that resembled defeat.  Her musings came to an abrupt end though as the Dark Lord chose that particular moment to address her captor.

Severus Snape had cautiously surveyed his surroundings and come to the definite conclusion that his task of rescuing the Granger girl was improbable at best and suicidal at worst.  His natural sense of cynicism seemed predictably more inclined to agree with the latter of his assessments and continued to question his entire purpose in answering Voldemort's summons when he should, by all rights, be cutting his losses and seeking a safe refuge to live out the remainder of his days.  

He mentally sighed and surreptitiously observed the girl that was sprawled inelegantly on the ground at the Dark Lord's feet.  How had they ever allowed things to get this far? It was just as he took the last few steps to assume his customary position of reverence to Voldemort that Snape noticed her shoulders slump and her head hang just the slightest bit closer to the ground.  It was this simple gesture that worried him the most as he knew that whatever else her failings might be, Hermione Granger was not the type of individual to embrace defeat.  She was thoroughly Gryffindor in that respect and it was a character trait that he had been counting heavily on.  No, she could not accept defeat this early into the game or else they would both lose and he knew very well that this time there would be no second chances for either one of them.  

Granted, the Dark Lord was certainly not a thing of beauty.  It was an unarguable fact that after so many potions, dark spells and incantations of magic so old that even Severus was at a loss to understand it all, the man that was once Tom Riddle had become a thing so grotesque and terrifying that many feared him based on his visual countenance alone. But still, despite this fact, the Potions Master would have bet his best cauldron that the girl would not have given up so early into the meeting. 

'Perhaps a slight hesitation on her part was to be expected though?'  He reflected thoughtfully. After all, this was the first time she had witnessed the Dark Lord firsthand and though Potter may have told her what to expect, Severus doubted that the description would have served to do justice to the experience itself.  Yes, that was it… the girl was simply in shock.  Feeling slightly mollified by the explanation and determined to hang on to every scrap of hope that he could either find or manufacture, Snape bowed before the snake-like creature and kissed the hem of his robes.  It was a memory he planned to Obliviate from Granger's mind should they survive the night as to pay homage to the soulless creature was, in Snape's opinion, one of the most demeaning and demoralizing ordeals he was forced to endure.  As usual, the nausea welled up inside of him as his lips made contact with the rough fabric of the heavy black robes customarily worn by the Dark Lord. 

"What is the meaning of this, Lucius?" Voldemort questioned as Snape backed away from his odious show of servitude. "This is not what I ordered."

Hearing the small unsteady hitch in his one time friend's breathing, Severus quietly rose and unobtrusively positioned himself to where he stood between Lucius and the young woman that was still kneeling quietly on the ground.  He listened attentively as the blond haired man explained the details surrounding his current possession of the Witch that held the dubious position of being one of Harry Potter's best friends.         

It was obvious to Snape from the way Lucius Malfoy continued to intermittently leer at Hermione throughout the narrative that he would have to act quickly if he were to be successful in spiriting her away to the safety of Grimmauld place. Evidently, Lucius had more in mind for the young woman than merely using her as a means of elevating his standing in the Dark Lord's eyes. For some reason, unbeknownst and not to be dwelled on now or ever as far as Snape was concerned, the thought of what other 'things' his fellow Death Eater might have in store for the bushy haired Witch caused his blood to boil.  He shifted his stance ever so slightly in response to the uncomfortable direction of his thoughts telling himself firmly that his anger merely stemmed from the fact that she was too young and innocent to suffer such atrocities.  Know-it-All or not, the girl deserved better… as did all of his students.  

That voice that insisted on residing inside of his head let out a sneering chuckle of disbelief at the contrived explanation that Snape had settled on and he tamped it back down with fervent vigor.  The last thing he needed right now was to waste precious moments dealing with his conscience or to examine his suspect motivations where Hermione Granger was concerned.  He had no idea why her continued survival suddenly seemed to matter to him so much nor was he certain that he wanted to know.  Casting a brief look downwards at the girl next to him, Snape determined that the most obvious answer to his sudden and uncharacteristic wealth of softer feelings was that he had obviously spent too many years around Albus Dumbledore. 

'If I start thinking kindly toward Potter and his red headed sidekick then I'm quitting and Voldemort and Dumbledore can find themselves another lapdog,' he resolutely decided.   With an irritated grimace, he put aside his personal thoughts and returned his attention to the matter at hand:  rescuing the bothersome girl.

However, a quick but careful surveillance of the area afforded him little peace of mind.  Aside from the thicket of trees and the sparse overgrowth off to his left, there wasn't much that could be considered helpful.  The only thing he considered to be in their favor at this time was the fact that the Dark Lord had thus far only summoned the members of the Inner Circle; a fact that was obvious by both the smaller number of Death Eaters currently present and the fact that Voldemort was addressing them by name.  However, past experience told him that it wouldn't be long before the remaining Death Eaters were summoned to meet and enjoy the evening's festivities.  The Potions Master's stomach lurched ever so slightly as his mind replayed images from past revels.  No, he had to find a way to get the annoying young woman away from Lucius and the Dark Lord quickly but right now it was time to convince Voldemort of Lucius' duplicity once and for all.

"So, in essence, what you are telling me, Lucius, is that you took it upon yourself to override my orders?" Voldemort hissed.

"I had it under the best of authority that Severus was planning to countermand your orders and safeguard Potter's friends, My Lord," Malfoy pleaded and bowed his head in a show of respect.  "I only sought to ensure that your orders were carried out as I know how much the destruction of Harry Potter means to you."

"You know NOTHING!" Voldemort hissed, sending a blast of energy from his wand to connect squarely with the man's stomach.  The force of the creature's anger was evident in the blast, knocking Lucius unceremoniously to the ground.

It was all Hermione could do to stem the nervous laughter that threatened to bubble up and break free as she saw the usually aristocratic man roll over and spit out a mouth full of dirt that he had inhaled when he hit the ground. 

'Serves you right,' she thought indignantly, wishing that she had been the one to cast the hex and knock some of the hot air out of Malfoy's over inflated ego.  She smiled as the thought crossed her mind that the older man's ego was probably only surpassed by the number of galleons in his Gringott's account and even then she bet it was a close match.   

"And you, Severus," the Dark Lord murmured quietly, drawing himself up to his full height and standing before Snape, "Is any of what I have heard here this evening true?  Were you planning on betraying me tonight?"

"No, My Lord, I was not," Snape spoke softly and dared a quick raise of his head to stare directly into the Dark Lord's eyes.  He could feel the pull of Legilimens as the creature wormed his way, uninvited, into the crevices of his mind for the answers he sought.  It was an unwelcome feeling but one that the Potions Master had expected and prepared for.

Drawing on his own training and mastery of Occlumency, Snape carefully pushed forth his own version of the truth and allowed it to play out in the form of carefully maneuvered feelings and imagery for the Dark Lord.  Visions of assigning Weasley and Granger detention… visions of the two of them dourly entering the dungeons earlier that afternoon to serve their detention… visions of him demanding and taking away their wands… visions of Weasley raggedly recounting his story of Lucius' abduction to Dumbledore minus the bits and pieces of his own involvement… visions of watching as the Headmaster attempted to pull both students back through the use of the Perattrahere spell… anger at and annoyance at Potter's antics in the Headmaster's office…  visions of Potter's face when he realized that Hermione was in danger…

What seemed to continue for hours, but in fact had only lasted mere minutes, finally ceased and Snape allowed himself the luxury of a moment to breathe and recollect his thoughts as Voldemort finally ceased his invasion.  Severus had known that the Dark Lord would use Legilimens to obtain the answers to his questions and sensing that time was running out for the young woman still kneeling beside him, he had chosen to look directly into Voldemort's eyes in the hopes that the creature would speed things up.  It would not be long before it was time to summon the remaining Death Eaters and Severus needed to quickly convince the Dark Lord of Lucius' treachery.  It was his hope that such knowledge would be distraction in and of itself, allowing the young Gryffindor a few precious moments to make a getaway.  Dumbledore had mentioned the existence of a second wand and thus far Lucius had not spoken of any such thing.  Perhaps it was still in her possession and perhaps the girl would use that formidable brain of hers to watch for his signal and make a break for it.   He grimaced behind the confines of the loathed mask that currently hid his face.  There were far too many 'perhaps' in the formula for his liking and such a fact did little to bolster his spirits.

"It would appear that you are telling me the truth, my servant," Voldemort hissed yet again and eyed the Potions Master in a thoughtful manner.  "Though I suppose that it is possible that you are lying."

Snape was far too intelligent to rise to the bait the Dark Lord deliberately dangled in front of him like the proverbial carrot.  To argue the point when it was obvious that Voldemort would draw his own conclusions, would only serve to see him hexed.  Lucius' recent encounter mere moments beforehand had been enough to remind him of that small fact. 

"However, it is fortunate that we have another means of verifying the truth of your words this evening," the creature continued, with a strange gleam in his eye that had the Potions Master more than a little worried. 

"Stand up, girl!" the Dark Lord commanded, finally turning the full brunt of his attention on Hermione who had decided that remaining quiet was probably her best option under the circumstances.  She sighed, knowing that there was no way she could go against the order and to struggle against such a small command, and that was the only word for it considering the imperiously regal way in which it was given, would only bring the creature's wrath upon her sooner.  No, she would wait and conserve her energy for something more important; such as the impending escape she still hoped to be able to pull off.

The fact that the Professor had actually answered the Dark Lord's call had surprised her though she supposed that in a way it really shouldn't have.  After all, he risked his life each and every time he appeared before the vile creature that was now appraising her carefully.  However, with Malfoy throwing a spanner into their plans, she had entertained the thought that Snape might just cut his losses and either remain at Hogwarts or go into hiding to work for the Order in a different capacity.  Either way, she wondered what he had in mind and what he hoped to gain by his presence.  The only way that she could even have seen him turning Malfoy's carefully crafted plan to his advantage was to show up with Ron in tow as a sign of good faith.  Since it was obvious that he had Apparated alone, she could fathom neither his motives nor his intentions.  It was a thought that made her feel ill at ease even though his physical presence still served to provide her with a glimmer of hope. 

"So you are Harry Potter's little Mudblood friend," the Dark Lord murmured softly, causing Hermione to shiver ever so slightly at the malice that lurked beneath his words. Remembering both Harry's and Professor Snape's warnings of Voldemort's prowess with Legilimens, she kept her eyes averted toward the ground, though she knew that it was only a matter of time before she would have to look directly into the face of the creature that now circled her as if she were nothing more than potential prey waiting to be swooped upon and devoured. 

"You and I have much to discuss, my dear," he continued, placing an inordinate amount of emphasis on the endearment before returning to stand directly in front of her.  "It would seem that you are not overly surprised to find your Potions teacher here by my side this evening.  I wonder why that is?"

The question was rhetorical and Hermione well knew it though she saw this as an opportunity to draw attention away from the Potion Master's involvement within the Order of the Phoenix.  If she couldn't help herself then perhaps she could help him ever so slightly.  It wasn't much but it made the prospect of dying a little more palatable and easier to face. 

"Malfoy told us that you were working for Voldemort," she spat contemptuously at the silent figure that stood next to her, "but I refused to believe it.  Now, here you stand, waiting to do whatever bidding that thing orders of you and all along you were just biding your time at Hogwarts and collecting information.  How could you?  Dumbledore trusted you!"

"A fact he will soon regret," the Dark Lord broke in laughingly before Snape could form a reply.  "My servants are everywhere and that withered fool of a Headmaster will soon realize that he holds only the cards that I have allowed him to hold."

"You are wrong if you think that this will be enough to bring either Dumbledore or Harry down," she responded bravely, playing up the innocent Gryffindor image for all it was worth.  "Dumbledore might be hurt by Professor Snape's betrayal but it won't matter in the end.  Harry will still defeat you."

"Harry Potter will do nothing more substantial than mourn the loss of his little Mudblood friend," the Dark Lord spat contemptuously.  "Your death will weaken him as surely as it will break his spirit."

"Again, you're wrong," she replied quietly, lifting her head ever so slightly in a gesture of pride and dignity that Snape found rare in one so young.  "My death might hurt Harry but it will only strengthen his resolve to bring about your demise.  You have failed.  If you had truly wanted to make an impact than you would have managed to capture both Ron and I, but from what I've been told today, I guess that's what you had in mind before Malfoy stepped in and screwed things up."

"It will not matter," Voldemort insisted, his temper rising at the young woman's continued faith in her friend.  "Your death will cause him pain and that pain will fester until he can no longer function.  It will make him weak."

"It will make him stronger," she whispered, saddened for the emotional turmoil her friend would have to suffer on account of the malevolent fiend that stood before her.

"It will make him reckless and he will fail," the Dark Lord countered, but Hermione and Snape both noted that his conviction seemed to have slipped ever so slightly.

"It will make him determined and I have never seen Harry fail at anything once he's set his mind to it," she declared truthfully. 

Turning toward both Malfoy and Snape, she allowed herself a tired but wry little smile.  "I bet it was a great shock to find us both gone from your dungeons this afternoon, Professor. In fact, I'd be willing to wager that it was probably almost as much of a shock to you as it was to us, especially since you seem to have gone to such lengths to ensure that we were the only two students to be held back from the Hogsmeade weekend.  I should have known that something wasn't right.  I should have listened to Ron when he told me that something smelled rank when you didn't include Harry in the detention, but no… I trusted you because you're a Hogwarts teacher and because you have a duty to protect the students. And because of that really bad lapse in judgment on my part, I wrongly decided that it was nothing more than another one of your unjust punishments to Gryffindors in general and blindly went along with it."

She heard snickers from beneath the masks of a few of the other Death Eaters at her remark though a quick turn of the Professor's own masked head immediately squelched their laughter.  Even masked, the Potions Master seemed to command respect.  It was a fact that Hermione would have smiled at had she not needed to continue to play the role of duped Gryffindor to steer Voldemort away from Lucius Malfoy's correct assumptions regarding Severus Snape.

"And you," Hermione continued her tirade undaunted as she turned her attention toward the Malfoy patriarch who stood by somewhat shocked and dumbstruck that the small wisp of a Witch standing before them was taking the opportunity to take them to task rather than plead for her life.  "I'm just glad that I was there to see the look on your face when the Headmaster used the Perattrahere spell to recall us.  It may not have worked for me but at least it worked for Ron and that means that ultimately, you've ruined your Master's great big plan of bringing down Harry. We're Harry Potter's best friends for goodness sakes!  Did you honestly think that he wouldn't have enacted some sort of failsafe in case someone decided to try and hurt Harry by taking us?  Honestly!  So when you all fail, and you WILL fail, be sure to take a bow because the credit will be yours and yours alone."  

Before Hermione could catch her breath from her ridicule of the blond Wizard, Lucius had whipped out his wand and pointed it directly at her. 

"No one takes that tone with a Malfoy, let alone a worthless little Mudblood such as yourself," he yelled, thoroughly enraged.

"That will be enough, Lucius," Voldemort hissed.  "If Severus can stand back patiently while the girl regales us with her demonstration of misplaced loyalty then you can do the same. Besides, I am not finished with her yet.  After all, we still have so… much… more… to… discuss."

The last part of the snake-like creature's sentence was issued slowly with each word deliberately accentuated for Hermione's benefit.  The ploy was obviously intended to instill fear and it was definitely working, though Hermione at least hoped that she was doing a passable job of hiding exactly how frightened she truly was.  Given the evidence, the Gryffindor suspected that Voldemort enjoyed putting on a bit of a show not only for his intended victims but also for his following and, if she were to be completely honest, he really did have a knack for the whole dark and creepy genre that few could have surpassed. 

'Just my luck that I get to be one of the lucky ones to experience it first hand,' she thought with more than a hint of derision.

"And now," Voldemort continued speaking as he placed a long bony finger underneath her chin and lifted her face until her eyes made contact with his own, "you are going to tell me, and in great detail, exactly what you know about Harry Potter, Albus Dumbledore, the Order of the Phoenix and Severus Snape."

A split second later she heard a softly whispered Legilimens and felt the first unwelcome tendrils of invasion as Voldemort allowed his consciousness to enter her mind.

TBC

Author's Note:  Thanks to OzRatbag2 for her wonderful suggestions for this chapter as well as my many thanks to those of you still reading and following along with this story.  Next chapter will finally answer the very LONG awaited question of whether or not Hermione escapes from the Dark Lord's clutches.