Warning: This chapter contains a rape scene. I tried to make it less graphic, but if you are underage or offended, please stop reading when Hermione enters the shrieking shack (towards the end…it's the second time she goes there).
Catalyst
Hermione's Point of View
After leaving the Leaky Cauldron, I decided to head to Flourish and Blotts and purchase whatever books I could find on Occlumency. I found several on theory and a few with practical pointers, and decided that I needed as much information as I could get. I wanted to master this skill as quickly as possible, since I had a foreboding notion that I would need it…soon. I may not think Professor Trelawney was very good at the 'noble art of divination,' but I had long ago learned to trust my instincts. Especially where learning defensive skills were concerned.
Once my purchases were finalized, Shrunken, and tucked away in my purse, I decided to prepare our meeting location. My remembrances of the Shrieking Shack were of a dusty, dirty, ramshackle place that had made my allergies flare up for a week…even with the Hay Fever Potion Madame Pomfrey gave me. I decided if I was going to be spending time there, I should attempt to make it more comfortable.
So, holding on tightly to my purse and my wand, I Apparated to the Shrieking Shack.
It was worse than I remembered. Filthy and dusty, full of broken furniture, leaves, and mouse droppings, I knew I had my work cut out for me.
Thank all the Gods that I'm a witch. If I were a Muggle faced with this mess, I think I'd lose what little temper I had these days.
Draco's Point of View
Looking around my current abode, I feel a sense of pride in what I have managed to accomplish. While, even after several weeks, the Refuge is not up to the standards of Malfoy Manor where I grew up, or really even the standards of Hogwarts, it is much better than the rat-infested Riddle Manor where the Dark Lord currently resides. Nena has been quite busy cleaning, and I have been getting lots of experience with transfiguration. We are comfortable, even if we are not living in the lap of luxury.
Over the past few weeks my contact with Snape has been sporadic at best. Maybe once a week I get a message from Nena to Apparate to his home next door. We chat for a few minutes and sometimes he gives me some books he particularly wants me to read. Sometimes he asks me to look for specific information for his research. Two weeks ago, he brought me a potions kit and had asked me to start brewing some minor healing potions in my free time, which Nena would then deliver…somewhere.
I had always liked Potions classes, so I appreciated the assignment, even if I wasn't sure what would happen with the potions when I completed them.
When Nena popped into the lab I had set up and asked me to "attend Master Snape" I was quite happy to agree. No matter how much I enjoyed my make-work, no matter how nice the furnishings I had transfigured, I was quite glad to see another human being. After about a month of only seeing Snape once a week or so, I would have been happy to see Potty or the Weasel King. Hell, even Mudblood Granger would have been an improvement…
Apparating to Snape's home only took a moment. "Sir?" I called into the empty seeming home.
I could barely hear his voice when he answered, "I'm downstairs in the lab, Draco."
I headed down the stairs to the lab as quickly as I could, anxious to see another human for the first time in a week.
"Draco, I need you to begin working on a batch of the Draught of Peace. Do you remember how to make it from class? Or do I need to find the recipe for you?"
"No, sir, I remember how to make it."
"Good, after we chat for a while, I want you to start a batch immediately."
"Sir, if I may ask, why are we brewing all these medicinal potions? And the Draught of Peace? Sir, I have never heard of a Death Eater needing the Draught of Peace."
"When did I ever say I was brewing the potions, or having them brewed, for Death Eaters?"
I thought about this for a moment, trying to remember each of our conversations, especially those that revolved around the potions I had brewed. I had to conclude that he never had said who we were brewing for.
"You didn't, Sir." The implications of that stopped me for a moment. "But then, who are we brewing them for?" I noticed the pitch of my voice increasing as the possibilities began to multiply…the treasonous possibilities…
"Draco, do you trust me?" His voice was quiet as he asked me this question.
Looking into his black eyes, I could only nod in assent. Of course I trusted him. He was my Godfather, my Head of House, more a father to me than my own on so many occasions I had lost count. "Yes, sir," I answered aloud, finding my voice.
"Draco, you have known me your entire life. You trusted me with your life. I could even say you owe me your life," he paused, clearly thinking hard. After a moment, he looked up at me with his coal black eyes, one eyebrow arched, and I knew deep down he was asking me if I wanted to share his burden.
I realized that I wasn't ready for more yet. "I'm sorry I questioned you, Sir. I know how to make the potion you requested. I will begin it immediately."
Snape sighed, clearly weary. "All right, Draco. How have you been fairing? I'm sorry I have been unable to get away as much as I would like. Is there anything, anything at all, which you need?"
"No, sir."
"All right, then. I will see you the next time I can get away."
I only nodded, picking up the bundle he had brought this time, and Apparated back to the Refuge.
Snape's Point of View
It was clear the boy was lonesome. I wished there was something I could do to ease the fact that he was almost entirely alone all the time. But short of a disaster, for now there was nothing else I could do about it.
Putting my worries about Draco away, I Apparated to my weekly meeting with Hermione.
Our first meeting had been a surprise for me, and each one since was stranger still.
The first time we had met at the Shrieking Shack, I had been astounded at how much effort she had put into making it habitable. It was clean, and smelled freshly aired out. The two chairs had been repaired for us to sit on while we discussed the news I brought, and a table stood by them in case we needed to write or in case she brought food. It was weatherproofed and the wind and rain of the Scottish countryside no longer whistled through cracks in the walls big enough for leaves to blow through.
The next surprise came from the fact that Granger had clearly put a lot of effort into mastering Occlumency. In a month, she had gained in proficiency to the point that I could no longer breach her defenses. I was amazed at how fast she had mastered this difficult skill, although I realized I shouldn't have been given the dedication to learning she had shown throughout her career at Hogwarts.
"Hermione, I do not believe that there is anything further you will learn from me in the art of blocking Occlumency. You are not yet able to create memories, but you are adept at keeping me out completely. I think, therefore, it is time for you to move on to Legilimency." After discussing the theory with her, I proceeded to allow her to practice against me. While she did not get through my shields, I had no doubt that she would learn to breach most minds quickly.
When our lessons were finished, I shared with her some information about some planned attacks on the families of several Muggle-born students and quickly took my leave of her, arranging to see her the following weekend.
Hermione's Point of View
Snape left abruptly, as usual, and I made my way though the tunnel to Hogwarts to share with Minerva the information about the Muggle-born students' families.
As I trudged through the dark, I realized that Snape had given me the closest thing to a compliment I had ever heard cross his lips when he said he could teach me nothing more about blocking my mind to others. Amazing.
Minerva took the news of the planned attacks in stride, alerting Order members and getting safety precautions in place for the families.
After the rush of orders was over, Minerva turned to me, a questioning look on her face. "Hermione, how are you holding up? Are you and Severus getting along all right? Or is he…causing problems?"
"What?" I asked, shocked. "Oh, no, he's been quite…polite. Nice almost. Which is strange, as Snape has never seemed like the type to…do nice…"
Minerva snorted. Then chuckled. Before long, she was actually full out laughing. "Oh, Lord," she got out between great big guffaws, "Severus, NICE?" More laughs. She started taking deep breaths, trying to control her laughter. "Hermione, that's quite an image. I take it you have been studying your Occlumency, and it's been going well?"
"Yes. I think he gave me a compliment tonight. He said there was nothing more he could teach me about blocking."
Minerva stopped laughing at once, a look of complete shock on her face. "He said that? To a Gryffindor? The world must be ending. Hmm, I really shouldn't even joke about that, given the situation we're in with Voldemort. The world might be ending."
I let out a loud sigh.
Minerva clearly read the emotions written on my face. "Hermione, go home and relax for once. Play some games with the boys. Don't read. Don't work. Just take a night off."
I looked at her, seeing the concern in her eyes, and slowly nodded. "All right, Minerva. I'll see what the boys are doing and turn in early," and with that, I went to the Floo in Minerva's office and left for Headquarters…my home.
When I arrived in the kitchen at Grimmauld Place, the boys were sitting around the kitchen eating dinner. Going to the counter, I dished out a plate for myself and joined them. As I sat down, I noticed them giving me questioning looks.
"I have been given the night off to relax. What do you suggest I do? And do you want to join me?" I asked, noticing their raised eyebrows. Usually, I didn't get home until much later after a meeting.
After looking at me, they looked at each other and shrugged. "Exploding Snap, maybe?" Ron asked.
"Sure, that sounds fun," I answered. We hadn't played games in forever. Actually, I had rarely played games with the boys; usually I just sat near them and read while they played.
Several games of Exploding Snap and a few too many shots of Firewhiskey later, Harry excused himself and stumbled up to his room.
Ron and I moved in front of the fire together, glasses in hand, and spent a few minutes looking at the flames. It had been a fun evening. I didn't get much chance to just hang out with my friends too much anymore.
Just as I was getting comfortable, I felt Ron's arm drape around my shoulders. Turning my head to look at him questioningly, I was surprised when my lips were immediately seized with a very sloppy kiss, and his hand dropped lower onto my right breast.
"Ron, stop! We're drunk! What are you doing?" I asked, pushing him away.
"Hermione, come on. We've been dating for a while now, but I never see you anymore. I miss you. Don't you want me anymore?"
"Ron, not like this. Please, I have a lot on my plate right now. I don't want to get distracted. I don't want to think about relationships right now! I definitely don't want to be distracted with groping!"
I should have kept my mouth shut. I never said the right thing when I'd been drinking, which is one of the reasons I seldom indulge. But between the groping and the slobbery kiss, I just wanted to get away. Honestly, I thought to myself, he should be glad I didn't push him harder. I shuddered at the amount of slime in the kiss he had just given me, not to mention the slightly mashed feeling of my breast.
A hurt look flickered across his face at my reaction, but it was quickly suppressed. "Hermione, I don't think our relationship is going to work. I think about you all the time; I get distracted by thoughts of you." His voice was quiet and even.
"Ron, can't we discuss this in the morning?"
"No, Hermione, we can't. I'm sure you have heard the saying that there's truth in the bottom of the bottle. I see the 'truth' in your reaction to me. You don't need to mask it in the morning." With that, he headed out of the room and I could hear his footsteps on the stairs.
I wanted to be sad, to ball my eyes out over losing Ron so quickly. We had both spent so much time wanting to make a move on each other, and yet not wanting to hurt our friendship. Now it was over in the space of a few weeks.
With another deep sigh, I followed the boys upstairs and went to bed.
The next morning was tense. Harry and Ron had once again beat me to the breakfast table, and Ron had clearly filled Harry in on the events that had occurred after he had gone to bed the night before.
Harry looked up at me and gave me a sad half-smile. I was relieved to see he didn't seem to be taking sides.
Ron, on the other hand, wouldn't meet my eyes.
I dished myself a bowl of oatmeal and sat down across the table from the boys. Eating slowly, I tried hard to decide what to do. I was saved from breaking the silence by Ron.
"So, mate," he said, looking at Harry, "what are the plans for today?"
Harry looked back at Ron, eyebrow raised. "Well, Ron, I thought we would have a strategy session with Hermione and get each other all caught up on what was happening. Then we can make some plans for the rest of the week."
Ron, noticing that his attempt to exclude me had backfired, blushed crimson.
"Well, Harry…Ron…I have been working on gaining competency in Occlumency. I started with books, and then Professor McGonagall found me a teacher for me to practice with. As of the last session, I was declared proficient, and was bid to begin studying Legilimency. I was thinking that maybe I should work with the two of you. Harry, you, especially, need to be able to block your mind, but you had such an emotional reaction to Snape that I don't think he could have ever taught you…"
"Hermione, that's a great idea."
"Well, the way I think it works is that the more emotionally attached you are to something, the more you think about it, so the more likely it will be picked up on by Legilimency. You said Snape used to tell you to clear your mind of all emotions, but Snape doesn't really understand Gryffindors. My guess is he didn't understand that we Gryffindors don't become caught up in causes and in actions because of logic, but because we feel, deep down, that it's the right thing to do. Emotionally. So the way he was teaching you was doomed to fail. You are nothing if not the consummate Gryffindor." I smiled at them both, as they were both clearly caught up in my theory. "Actually, that's true for both of you, well, all of us, really. We react with our sense of right and wrong, not our ambition."
"Hmmm," Ron mumbled, lost in thought. "You think that's why the best at Occlumency and Legilimency are Slytherins? It's part of how their mind works?"
"More or less, yes. But that doesn't mean that we can't do it, too. We just do it differently."
"OK, I'll bite, how do we do it, then?" Ron asked. It seemed that as long as we could stay on a topic like this, he could divert his feelings.
"Well, we will never be as good as someone like Snape, because he was able to choose thoughts to show. All I can really do is block, not give false trails…" I paused, collecting my thoughts on how to explain it, "but I think of a wall. I thick wall that keeps everything in. Sounds, sights, memories, feelings…everything. I know some people who use this technique use the image of clouds…but the wall works best for me. Basically, it's an image that separates you from the rest of the world or even from yourself if the situation is bad enough."
Harry was staring at me with a growing look of appreciation.
"If you want to read up on theory, I have some books that I found really helpful. Once you have a basic understanding, we can practice…"
"Hermione, that sounds like a great idea," Ron said, not meeting my eyes.
I went upstairs for the books and tried desperately to think of other topics we could discuss without Ron and I having an argument.
The week passed quickly with research and our mental practice of the dual skills of Occlumency and Legilimency. That weekend, the boys went off to try and track down the next Horcrux, and I got ready to go to the Shrieking Shack. The Order had been quite successful at protecting the families Snape had gotten the warning out about, and so the general feeling at Headquarters was one of careful optimism.
I was due to meet Severus at the Shrieking Shack at 3 pm, but I had noticed last week that some of the cleaning charms I had done to make the place less ramshackle needed to be repeated. So even though it was only half past noon, I decided to head out.
I Apparated directly into the tunnel that led to the Shrieking Shack so that I was right beneath the trap door when I reappeared. I thought I heard a voice coming from within the Shack, but quickly dismissed the notion since I could clearly hear the wind coming through the cracks in the walls in the attic.
A few moments after I opened the trap door, I heard something shift upstairs, but this noise I also discounted. After all, the Shrieking Shack was an old building, always settling and making noise when I was there with Severus. I decided it was likely that was what I was hearing now.
Closing the trap door, I headed up the stairs to the second floor where I always met with Severus. I decided, given the chill in the air, that once I had cleaned the room again, I would cast several warming charms. I could distinctly feel goose flesh on my arms, and I couldn't suppress a shiver.
Arriving on the second floor, I thought it odd that the door to the bedroom was closed. That was the room Severus and I met in, and we usually left the door open. But again, I put the closed door down to the wind that was penetrating the building at this level.
Opening the door, I entered the room that had, for me at least, been transformed from a place of bad memories from the night Wormtail escaped to a place of learning and fighting for the Order.
As soon as I entered the room I knew something was wrong. The furniture had been rearranged and there was a smell to the place that I didn't recognize, at least not right away.
Unfortunately, by the time I recognized it as the smell of unwashed body and unbrushed teeth, it was too late.
"Expelliarmus!" shrieked a voice I recognized all too well from my nightmares, a voice I had last heard in the Department of Mysteries.
Flung backwards, I landed on the bed in the same place that Severus had landed on that fateful night back in third year, the night Wormtail returned to Voldemort. Looking up, I saw a sight I had hoped never to see: Lucius Malfoy, flanked by three other Death Eaters, pointing his wand directly at me and holding my wand in his other hand.
"Well, well, well. What have we here? If it isn't Potter's little Mudblood. Isn't this a surprise," he chuckled. It was a sinister chuckle and held with no warmth at all. He'd been frightening enough before, but Lucius Malfoy after Azkaban was terrifying. Still, no matter how scared I was, and I was honest enough with myself to realize I had never been more afraid, I was also determined not to show him this.
"Where one member of the irritating trio is, can the others be far behind? Nott, Goyle, go see if there is anyone else here. Crabbe, stay with me." Two of the Death Eaters ventured out into the hall and began searching the Shrieking Shack.
While Malfoy's attention was on directing the buffoons, I desperately tried to think of a way out of this situation. Perhaps he caught my slight movement out of the corner of his eye, because the next thing I knew, I was bound on the remains of the bed. I had thought I couldn't be more afraid before the ropes snugged into place. I now know how wrong I was. Malfoy just smiled at my look of shock and terror.
Moments later, Nott and Goyle returned to the room. "No sign of anyone else," Nott said.
"Well, then, my friends, it seems we have been gifted a golden opportunity to lay a blow to the golden trio. You know, a year in Azkaban, and Narcissa never once visited me. And even now that I'm out, she won't have anything to do with me. It's been a year since I have had a woman under me...granted she's not much of a woman, and a filthy Mudblood to boot, but still…I'm not picky anymore…" He leered at me, after sharing a look with his companions.
As understanding of what he was intending to do to me flooded my brain, I was rocked by waves of emotions: disgust, fear, anger, shame, fear, anger. I also couldn't help but think about how I had reacted to Ron the week before, and how this was shaping up to be so much worse.
Malfoy was almost purring now as he stalked over to my prone body. Grabbing the rope around my arms, he pulled me off the broken bed and pushed me towards Crabbe. Fumbling, Crabbe caught me and held me upright, as Malfoy repaired the damage to the old bed with some mumbled spells.
"Hold her," he commanded Crabbe, as Goyle came up on my other side. As large as their sons were, Crabbe and Goyle senior were like living mountains. I had to wonder if there wasn't possibly some troll or giant blood running through their veins.
Nott stood on the other side of the room, observing everything that was happening. When our eyes met, he gave me a sly grin, and purposely dropped his gaze to my chest. Bringing his eyes back up, he smirked at me. Defiant, I fought my blushes, knowing it was a losing battle, but refusing to be intimidated.
This clearly amused Nott. "Malfoy, I think she needs a lesson in humility. Clearly, Dumbledore failed to teach her the role in life she was bred for as a Mudblood."
Malfoy stopped his spell work to consider. "Well, then, Nott, I think you should warm her up a bit and show her what happens to Mudbloods who lack humility."
Nott just nodded and pointed his own wand at me. "Crucio," he said softly. Almost too softly to be heard. I wondered, in the brief moment before the curse hit me, how he could cast an Unforgivable in such a quiet tone. After all, you had to mean it with the Unforgivables, and usually that meant some visible emotion. But Nott almost whispered the curse.
I had heard the descriptions of the Cruciatus Curse before from several people, including Harry. I had seen Snape's memories of receiving the curse from Voldemort. But no mere description, no memory, could prepare me for the feeling of every single nerve ending in my body being fired with pain all at once.
No longer supported by Crabbe and Goyle, I feel to the dirty floor, writhing in pain, screaming. The reputation of the Shrieking Shack meant that no one would notice my screams; no one would come to save me.
After a seeming eternity, Nott lifted the curse.
Opening my eyes, I saw four pairs of amused eyes looking down on me. With shaking limbs, I attempted to hoist myself up.
"Clearly, that was insufficient. Crucio!" Malfoy said. His voice was much louder that Nott's. He was standing closer, too. I barely had time to realize what he had said before I was engulfed in wave after wave of new pain.
When I had been cursed until I could no longer move, much less stand or escape, I was summarily hauled to my feet by Malfoy's goons. In the small part of my mind that was still functioning and not shrieking in pain, I was amazed with the similarities between the two generations.
At their touch, my abused limbs screamed in protest, and moans of pain escaped my mouth before I could stop them. It was then that I noticed I had bit through my lips while I had been held under the Curse.
Once lifted, I was flung down again, only to land on the repaired bed. I knew what was coming, and my mind, in an effort to protect itself, tried to blank, tried to put up the walls that had served it so well for Occlumency.
Numbly, I felt my clothing being torn off, mostly because it was hurting my shaking limbs. I felt the cold air blowing through the cracks in the walls on my naked skin, chilling me quickly in my sweat-soaked state from the time I had spent under the hated wands of the Death Eaters.
The walls I had managed to place around my mind cracked when I felt a heavy body climb on top of me. Forcing my eyes to focus, I looked into the steel-grey gaze of Lucius Malfoy, mere inches from my face, as he proceeded to slide between my thighs, as he spread them wide forcing another scream from my lips, as he prodded my exposed opening with his rock hard member.
After the pain of the Cruciatus Curse, the pain of him rending my maidenhood was visceral at best, but the mental anguish it caused was worse than any other torture I had yet faced.
The look of surprise on his face as he felt it pop would have been priceless under other circumstances. In the current situation, it only brought home to me again what was happening. The surprise was only there for a moment, as it was soon replaced with such a look of victory that I shuddered, again setting fire to my nerves as the pain returned.
"A virgin, Miss Granger. I am impressed. Not many make it through their time at Hogwarts without experimenting." He began to move then, pounding into my abused flesh and tearing screams from my throat.
Shutting my eyes, I willed myself away, somewhere safe, where he couldn't touch me. I felt the walls coming back up as I mercifully passed out.
Someone must have noticed my lapse in consciousness, since I was brought back by a wand being poked into my temple. Just in time to hear Malfoy grunt his way to completion. Thinking it was over, I was unprepared for the feeling of another, larger body moving into place atop mine. I opened my eyes to see Goyle's trollish features hovering over me. This time, the wall was easier to build, and the pain seemed less.
Goyle's noises increased quickly and he was replaced by Crabbe, but I was beyond caring.
When Crabbe finished, I was rolled onto my front and Nott took his turn, forcing his way into my rear entrance, pushing hard, unlubricated, and making me scream again. Malfoy laughed as Nott's moans of enjoyment burned my ears. As his pitch increased, I felt only relief, hoping that their torment for me would be over soon, that they would kill me and put an end to this hell.
Instead, when Nott withdrew his spent cock from my bleeding ass, Malfoy rolled me back over. Looking down at my bloodied body, he smiled. "Mudblood, you look better than I have ever seen you. But then, it really has been a long time." Reaching down, he grabbed my breasts with bruising force and climbed on for one last ride. This time, when I passed out, I was allowed to remain in the land of dreams.
I returned to consciousness fairly quickly, hoping that it had all been a dream. Chilled, I managed to sit up enough to look down at my body. The bruises, the blood streaks, the shaking…it was all real. Not a nightmare, then.
Frantically, I looked around for my wand, for my clothes. For anything to cover my nakedness.
My clothing was gone, probably Vanished. I saw my wand lying in pieces on the dresser across from the bed. There were no blankets, no bed curtains, nothing to cover myself. My arms were shaking so badly that I knew I would be unable to move from the bed, even if there were something for me to move towards.
It was then that I noticed I was still bleeding. Slowly, but still bleeding.
I lay back on the bed, shivering with cold, with fear, with the ghosts of pain from the Cruciatus Curse and…what came after.
Finally my mind, in an attempt to protect itself, allowed me to slip once more into unconsciousness.
Snape's Point of View
It had been an active week for Voldemort's flunkies, and a number of raids had been planned. Lucius was heading up one of the parties that had been ordered to target Hogsmeade businesses owned by Order supporters.
I arrived for my weekly meeting with Granger with quite a bit to report.
Once inside the Shrieking Shack, I immediately noticed that there was noise coming from upstairs, and not the normal noise Hermione usually makes as she moves around cleaning and warming the place before I arrive. I didn't hear any footsteps, but a soft keening noise was coming from the room where we usually met.
I sub-vocalized a Silencing Charm on my feet, causing them to make no noise as I investigated. It was clear after casting a revealing spell that there is no one on the ground floor, so I moved silently up the staircase to the second floor.
I quickly cast the revealing spell again on this floor and found that there is only one person and no jinxes present. Slowly, I opened the door to the room that has come to represent another safe haven after my meetings with Hermione.
My eyes were immediately drawn to the broken and bloodied form on the bed. It was obvious that it was Hermione; her trademark bushy hair was clearly recognizable, if matted with blood.
There was blood everywhere.
I went closer to the bed and noticed that she seemed to be unconscious, caught in a nightmare.
Blood was seeping from her nose, from her mouth where she seemed to have bitten through her lip. From the location on the mattress of additional bloodstains and the smears on her thighs, I can only assume where else blood was coming from.
Beneath the blood stains, she had bruises in the shape of fingers in several places on her body. They stood out all the more because of the contrast with her deathly pale skin.
"Fuck."
I had seen enough to know what happened, even if I didn't know who had done it.
Removing my cloak, I gently covered her with it, since her clothing seemed to be missing. I saw her wand, in pieces, across the room. Clearly, someone raped her and left her to die, if not in reality from her wounds, in embarrassment when she awoke.
I couldn't take her to Headquarters as I no longer had access to the Secret of its location. And even if I could, I did not fancy showing up with a broken Hermione to try and explain to Potter and Weasley what had happened. I couldn't take her to the school, either. Even though it was not Secret-Kept, being seen there would destroy all that I had worked for. My home wouldn't do, since Bellatrix came and went as she pleased.
With a sigh, I realized I would have to take her to the Refuge. I could only hope that Draco wouldn't object and make her life more miserable that it already was going to be.
Gathering the unconscious witch to me, she cried out in pain and her eyes fluttered open.
"Severus?" she whispered.
"Yes, Hermione," I answered her, as quietly as I could to try to keep from frightening her. "Hermione," I continued, "I am going to take you someplace safe. We are going to make you better."
She stared at me, barely comprehending what I was telling her, her eyes blank, her face in shock.
She raised a hand to her face, and I noticed the tremors as she tried to push her filthy hair back from her face where it was stuck in the blood. I had experienced enough bouts with the Cruciatus Curse myself to recognize the tremors, although I hoped I was wrong.
"Hermione, were you cursed, as well?" I asked her, as quietly as I could.
She again focused her vacant eyes on my face and blinked rapidly, as if she was having trouble seeing clearly.
"Yes. Several times. I lost count."
With a nod, I leaned close to her ear as she tried to shrink back, away from me. With a deep breath, I kept myself calm. Yelling at her wouldn't help.
"Hermione, I am taking you to the Refuge. It is located at 44 Spinner's End in Muggle London." And with that, I Apparated her to her new temporary home.
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