Mum's A/N: Thanks to all of you who sent in reviews! However, your complaints about cliffhangers have not prevented me from giving you another one! Mum LOVES cliffhangers!

Joce's A/N: Thanks from me too! Mum has kindly allowed me to all-out collaborate on the climax of this fic. Oh, and…(dun dun DUN!)…I have written a short side story to this masterpiece of Mum's, entitled Coffee and Enmity! Anybody care to guess what that little tidbit is about? (I'm a mean, mean girl! I take after my mother—hee hee hee!)

Chapter Twenty-Three

They had seen it, but they hadn't believed it. Ron ran past her, yelling frantically.

"Harry! Harry!"

Luna had her wand out, attempting to perform some kind of Apparition-trace spell, without success. Neville dropped to his knees next to Hermione.

"What happened? Where did he come from? Did he hurt you?" He caught her by the shoulders and shook her. "Hermione! Look at me! What happened?" He looked behind her, to where Susan was approaching. "Get help!" Susan turned and started back in the direction of the castle, but several Order members were already running to meet them.

Hagrid had appeared from inside his hut, and was trying to get Ron to calm down and tell him what had happened. Ron continued to shout Harry's name, and attempted to run past him, looking as if he would charge right off the grounds to start searching. Hagrid swung him up over his shoulder, and carried him back to the group.

"What th' devil happened here?" he demanded.

Luna had stopped casting spells, and stood slack-jawed, her wand hanging uselessly in her hand.
"Snape," she whispered to no one in particular. "Snape took Harry."

"What?" Hagrid bellowed. "Are yeh sure?"

"We saw it," Luna replied. "We saw… Hermione… on the ground… he took Harry."

"Not on the ground, Lovegood," said Moody, from behind them. He pointed his wand at Hermione. "Get away from her, Longbottom."

"Now, just a bloody minute," Hagrid sputtered.

"She gave him Potter's wand," Moody said, as Tonks and several more members of the Order reached them.

"What? No! She wouldn't… she couldn't," Neville insisted.

Ron had stopped trying to run away, but was now pointing hysterically at the Aurors. "I TOLD YOU!" he yelled. "I told you Snape did something to her! No one listened to me. Now look what's happened!"

Susan clapped her hands over her mouth. "Oh god," she whispered. Both she and Neville made another attempt to reach Hermione, but were stopped by Moody.

"Stay away from her!"

Tonks stepped forward. "We have to be careful." She reached down, and pulled an unresisting Hermione to her feet. "C'mon, let's sort this out back at the castle."

Hermione didn't speak during the course of Madam Pomfrey's examination. What could she say? For both Severus's and Harry's sake, she had to remain silent. She couldn't deny what she'd done, nor did she dare explain it. The only way to protect them was to let everyone who loved Harry assume the worst.

Madam Pomfrey straightened up, and turned to the others. "She is not under Imperius, or any other curse that I can detect."

The Headmistress looked at Moody. "Are you quite certain of what you saw, Alastor?"

He gestured towards his magical eye. "Even from the Astronomy tower, I had a perfectly good view. I tell you, she knew exactly what she was doing. She led him right to the greenhouse. Snape came and went with a Portkey. He knew exactly where they would be. And I saw her give Snape Potter's wand." He snarled. "She gave him Potter."

Ron was refusing to look at any of them. "That's impossible," he kept muttering.

Kingsley Shacklebolt came into the Hospital Wing with a grim expression. The Headmistress looked up as he entered.

"Did you bring the Veritaserum?"

He shook his head. "The entire supply is gone. There isn't any."

Madam Pomfrey appeared surprised. "You must be mistaken. There should be at least ten bottles in the dungeon supply room."

"It's been destroyed along with the ingredients needed to make it, and I'd say it was done quite recently."

Ginny, sitting with her arm around Ron, let her breath out in a rush and turned to stare in disbelief at Hermione. Hermione could no longer resist looking at them all and glanced briefly around. One look at the horror on all their faces had her staring at the floor again.

Then there was an unearthly howl of grief and rage, like a mortally wounded animal, and she was knocked over backwards as a pair of hands wrapped around her throat.

"Remus, no!"

"Lupin!"

Hermione choked and struggled instinctively; Remus's frenzied face was inches from hers. "Where is he? Damn you, WHERE IS HE?"

"Remus, STOP!" Other hands dragged the enraged werewolf away, leaving Hermione in a heap on the floor. "That won't help!"

"Leave her alone!"

The doors burst open again as Tonks helped Hermione back up to sit on one of the beds. They all turned to see Hagrid hauling Draco into the hospital wing, the little pinesqueezer still on Draco's shoulder, squeaking in alarm. "Maybe now we'll get some answers!" Hagrid snarled.

"Where was he?" Moody asked.

"In the kitchens." Hagrid shoved Draco in front of him so hard that he landed on his hands and knees on the floor.

"What the hell is going on?" Draco yelled.

"We're about to ask you the same question," Moody growled. "Who set up this plot?"

"What plot?" Draco demanded.

The Headmistress grabbed Draco by the ear. "I suggest, Mr. Malfoy, that you watch your tongue and answer with COMPLETE honesty, or I promise you, you will wish you were back in You-Know-Who's hands!" Draco stared at her in alarm. "Half an hour ago, Severus Snape appeared on the Hogwarts grounds and kidnapped Mr. Potter, apparently with the assistance of Miss Granger."

Draco's mouth fell open. He looked past McGonagall to where Hermione sat hunched on the hospital bed, one hand massaging her bruised neck. His eyes flicked to Remus, who was still half-restrained by Tonks and Kingsley. He looked as if he was about to say something, but when his lips moved, nothing came out. No one could deny that Draco Malfoy was as disbelieving as the rest of them.

"Bugger," someone muttered. "He didn't know."

"This is making absolutely no bloody sense."

Draco shook McGonagall off. "That's stupid," he said. "She wouldn't… not Potter! She wouldn't!"

Hermione had to look away from him and felt tears sliding down her face again. The rest of the Order was silent for several minutes.

"Well… not willingly, no!" she heard Neville saying. "Snape must've done something to her."

"I detected no signs of coercion spells," Madam Pomfrey began, but Ron suddenly jumped to his feet.

"Then he gave her a Potion… or SOMETHING… he's a POTIONS MASTER, you bloody incompetent, did you ever think of it?"

"Weasley!" McGonagall yelled.

"I can't believe you'd all be so stupid to pin this on her! I tell you it's not possible and you're wasting time in here while Snape's got Harry god knows where doing god knows what!" Ron shouted.

As Hermione watched him, she noticed Ginny staring at her, looking far less convinced of her innocence than Ron seemed to be. The younger girl's eyes had narrowed, and Hermione could almost see the thoughts running through her mind. No doubt remembering the past day and Hermione's bizarre behavior. She braced herself for Ginny revealing it, but to her surprise, Harry's girlfriend said nothing. She just looked at Hermione.

"Weasley's got a point," Kingsley was saying. "There's any number of things Snape could have done to the girl, and it is more important that we find Potter as fast as possible."

"Very well," the Headmistress conceded. "She will remain here under guard so that Madam Pomfrey can continue her tests. The rest of us must begin searching. We'll need to contact the Ministry—quietly—and determine You Know Who's last known location. Snape may well take Potter directly to him."

Hermione nearly blurted out that Snape wouldn't, but forced herself not to say anything. She noticed Draco still staring at her, looking completely baffled, but he didn't speak up either. And if Draco was smart, which he was, she knew he wouldn't dare try to approach her to ask what was really going on either, not with her under guard. Not that she'd be able to tell him anything in any case.

The rest of the Order filed out, with the exception of Hestia Jones and Tonks, who stood by while Madam Pomfrey began muttering with them about Voldemort's preferred methods of coercion. Hermione watched the others go. Ron was still growling that it was obvious that Snape had done something to her, with the rest of her friends murmuring varying degrees of agreement with his opinion. Then the door banged shut behind them, leaving Hermione alone.

Which was how she knew it would be, from now on, very possibly until the end of the war. Or until she was dead or in Azkaban, whichever came first.

The gray light of dawn was just beginning to show through the Hospital Wing windows, and Hermione breathed a silent thanks that the long night was over. She'd slept fitfully, when at all, her dreams a hodgepodge of eyes… Harry's eyes staring at her in horror, Ginny's eyes narrowed with suspicion, werewolf eyes… yellowed with fury and frenzy, and circles of eyes… accusing, condemning. She'd wake and weep, and finally doze again, only to face… eyes.

The sound of footsteps, and Madam Pomfrey approached the bed, bearing a potion that hissed and bubbled faintly and had a musty, moldy spell to it. She held it out, and Hermione drew back.

"What are you giving me?"

Madam Pomfrey was brusque, unwilling to show any sympathy to the girl she'd treated so many times before. Not when she was under suspicion of such a heinous act as the betrayal of the 'Chosen One.'

"Nothing pleasant. It's a purge, Miss Granger. It will draw out any Potion that may be in your system. The effects will last for a couple of hours. I suggest you plan on skipping breakfast."

Hermione glanced around, and noticed that Hestia Jones and Tonks were no longer there. Instead, a pair of Aurors she didn't recognize watched her from two different points in the room. Sighing, she gauged the distance to the bathroom, and downed the cup.

The next few hours were decidedly unpleasant, but Hermione thought that she almost preferred the physical distress to the weight of mental anguish she was bearing. Stretched out on the bed, feeling like a limp dishrag, she waited for the Pepper-up potion she'd been given to take affect. In the background, she could hear Madam Pomfrey reporting to one of the Aurors.

"Nothing… absolutely no trace of a Potion of any kind. I stand by my original findings. She was under no coercion."

Some time later, a house-elf was allowed to bring her a change of clothing, and Hermione received a fresh shock when the house-elf shrank from her in fear, an expression of loathing on its face. This was nothing like their antipathy when she'd tried to get them to accept clothes; this was pure hatred, directed at the woman who'd betrayed Harry Potter.

In spite of the Pepper-Up, she felt listless and headachy. Looking around for distraction, she noticed a stack of books on a nearby desk… Madam Pomfrey's recreational reading. The top volume was the stories and poems of Rudyard Kipling. Picking it up, she asked for, and received, permission to read it.

Curled up on the bed, she sought out "Rikki-Tikki-Tavi." As a child, she'd loved the story of the intrepid little mongoose and his fight against the mighty cobra, Nag. That she chose this story when Harry was going up against Nagini was no coincidence. Turning to the opening poem, she found herself trembling as she read.

"Rikki-Tikki-Tavi"

At the hole where he went in
Red-Eye called to Wrinkle-Skin.
Hear what little Red-Eye saith:
"Nag, come up and dance with death!"

Her eyes were blurring, and the lines were running together.

"This shall end when one is dead…"

Hermione dropped the book, turned her face into the pillow, and wept again. If Harry failed… if Severus couldn't protect him… then she'd sent him to his death. Sent him to his death, and destroyed everyone else around her by her own choice. She might as well have struck the blow herself. Oh, Harry… be safe, be safe, be safe!

An argument was taking place, a debate between Madam Pomfrey, the guards, and another person. The guards were insisting that no one was to see the prisoner, while the others maintained that no such restriction had been placed. The guards gave in grudgingly, and someone approached her bed and pulled up a chair. Hermione kept her face turned away into the pillow.

"I'm not leaving until you talk to me," Ginny said quietly, "So you might as well turn around and look at me."

Hermione sighed and looked up. Ginny frowned. "Are you sick?"

"Purging Potion," Hermione mumbled.

"Oh. Well, glad to see you can, in fact, talk." Hermione winced. She'd never heard Ginny's voice (or any other Weasley's for that matter, even Percy) sound so hard. Ginny scooted her chair up closer to the bed. "I've been thinking," she said in a low voice, so the guards wouldn't hear. "About the way you were acting around Harry all day. The way you kept running off alone. Moody's right; you and Snape had something planned, didn't you?"

Tears slid down the side of Hermione's face into the pillow fabric. "I can't, Ginny," she murmured.

The younger girl's brow furrowed, and she shook her head at Hermione in frustration. "Ron can't believe you'd do this willingly. You know," she sat back heavily in the chair. "If someone had told me about this, I wouldn't either. You love Harry," she insisted, sounding like she was trying to convince herself. "You wouldn't hurt him on purpose, but you did know you were taking him to Snape."

Hermione didn't answer. Ginny went on, talking almost to herself rather than Hermione. "Madam Pomfrey says you weren't forced by a Potion or spell; Ron doesn't believe her, of course, and neither do a lot of the Order." She tilted her head at Hermione. "I've been thinking about other ways to force someone to do something… did Snape threaten you? Threaten your family or something with… some way, something so bad you'd take Harry to him to stop it?"

Startled by the idea, Hermione looked up at her. Ginny's eyes widened hopefully, and she leaned forward, obviously wanting Hermione to say that was it and to tell something, anything, that would lead to answers… and to Harry. Hermione actually toyed with the idea of doing so. Then at least the blame and suspicion would be gone, and she could pretend she'd no idea where he'd taken Harry… .

She turned away again, and gave no answer. Behind her, Ginny let out a furious huff, and Hermione heard her chair scrape abruptly.

"I haven't told Ron about that, you know. He's enough of a wreck as it is, thinking he's lost one best friend. I can't tell him that he's already lost the other!"

Hermione stifled a sob at that, but still refused to answer. She felt Ginny lean over her.

"But he'll have to face it soon enough," Ginny hissed in her ear, "If you don't start explaining things!" The Hospital Wing floor rang with her jarring footsteps as she stalked out.

Hermione couldn't get Ginny's words out of her head. Ron… if Harry doesn't come back, what will it do to him, knowing what I've done? For the first time, it occurred to her that the loss of Harry might kill Ron, too. He'll have lost both of his best friends, and I'll have lost both of mine.

She still wasn't sleeping, plagued again by fears and frightening dreams. Hermione sat in her bed, wishing the night would pass… wishing she could think of something besides Harry… and Severus. Where were they? What had happened to them? Were they still alive?

The door to the Hospital Wing creaked, and swung open. In the dim light, Hermione could just make out someone entering. The light from the hall shone in behind him for just a second, and glossed over a head of blonde hair. With a start, she realized it was Draco. Coming in to see her would place him under even more suspicion. She was surprised, and worried, that he would chance it.

The closest guard stopped him, and words were spoken that she couldn't make out. Draco nodded in agreement to something that was said, and the guard allowed him to cross the room to her.

He pulled up the same chair that Ginny had occupied earlier, and sat down. Hermione looked at him, and he stared back at her, without a word. She waited, wishing he would say something or take her hand, or make some kind of a gesture to indicate that he understood… that what she'd done, she'd had to do.

He looked away from her, glanced back at the guards, looked back at her again.

"Y'okay, Granger?"

She sighed. "No."

He nodded, and there was silence again that stretched uncomfortably. Draco stood up and shoved the chair aside. He looked around again, stepped closer to the bed, and spoke quietly.

"I sure hope you know what you're doing, Granger."

She met his eyes, and his look was full of sadness and concern. Draco turned to go, then paused as she replied.

"I hope I do, too."

He bit his lower lip, obviously debating whether to say more, then leaned quickly toward her and began whispering, "What the hell did you… ?"

"No!" she hissed, pushing him away. "You're not part of this. You can't be. Go away before they assume you're involved!"

Draco looked plaintively at her. "Am I not?"

She sighed and lay back down again, turning away from him. "No. Go on." Draco hesitated. She looked over her shoulder and saw that he was wearing an aggravated, confused look that suddenly reminded her of Harry. "Go!" When he had gone, she buried her face in the pillow and sobbed.

The next two days passed without any news of… anything. Anxiety and boredom chafed at her. No one came in to speak to her, and the guards and Madam Pomfrey interacted with her only when absolutely necessary. If Ron and her other friends remained convinced of her innocence, the older members of the Order were clearly starting to have real doubts. Hermione had a feeling that history was working against her. After all, Remus and Moody had trained them for the possibility of a traitor in their midst.

But that made her think of the beastly Peter Pettigrew and all the damage he had done… and that made her think of Harry, his parents, and poor Sirius. It occurred to her then that she probably wasn't the only one thinking of that. Everyone's probably wondering if history really has repeated itself.

Oh Harry…

When she wasn't thinking of Harry, she was thinking of Severus. Three days ago, she'd been sure she could trust him. Sure enough to bring Harry to him. But the doubts had been creeping up steadily ever since, and now she was suffering from a severe crisis of faith.

Could he have fooled her? Had she been used to get to Harry? What side was Severus really on? Even if he hadn't been lying outright to her, was his word good where Harry was concerned? This was a man who'd been willing to kill the only other man who'd ever trusted him, for the sake of the war. What was to stop him from sacrificing Harry if he deemed it necessary, and by extension, Hermione as well?

He can't sacrifice me, she thought bitterly, I've already sacrificed myself. A moment later, she berated herself. Stop feeling sorry for yourself! If Severus is not to be trusted, then Harry is in a much worse situation than you are!

But none of that made waiting any easier.

Morning again… and Hermione was heartily sick of looking at the same walls, from the same bed, waiting for the hours to tick by. The guards changed, occasionally someone would stick their head in the door and confer with Madam Pomfrey, but other than those times, there was nothing to interrupt the endless nothingness of her day.

She sat at the nearby table and concentrated on pushing the food around on her breakfast tray. She'd not eaten more than a few bites in the last two days, and now her appetite had finally deserted her completely. Trying to come up with a reason for eating, she reminded herself that she needed to stay physically strong. At some point, Severus and Harry were going to need her… weren't they? When they came back, having destroyed Nagini, they would want her ready and able to fight… wouldn't they? Dropping her fork, and abandoning any pretext of eating, she rose and made her way back to sit on the side of her bed, gloomily staring at the guards, who stared back at her with no facial expression whatsoever.

CRASH! Both Hospital Wing doors had slammed open, hitting the walls with such force that objects around the room rattled with the vibration. Hermione jumped to her feet, wide-eyed, as Madam Pomfrey ran in from her small office.

"What is it? What's the meaning of this?"

Mad-Eye Moody stumped into the room, gesturing for the guards, his magic eye glaring balefully at Hermione.

"You two – come with me!"

The two men joined Moody as he advanced towards her, and Hermione shrank back against the wall in fear.

"What do you want with her? Alastor! I won't have you threatening her," Madam Pomfrey insisted.

Moody turned and snarled something at her under his breath, and she froze, one hand moving to her throat, and an expression of utter horror on her face as she looked at Hermione. Madam Pomfrey made no further attempt to stop him, and Moody grabbed Hermione's arm in one painful move and dragged her forward.

"If I had my way, Granger… if it was up to me… ,"

"What? Don't… you're hurting me!" Hermione twisted, trying to break his grip.

"I would have you in Azkaban right now… do you hear me?... and give you to the Dementors without trial."

He released her so quickly, that she fell back to the floor, tears of pain and fright on her face. He growled another terse command, and the two guards came forward, one on each side of her, and pulled her to her feet. Moody led the way out, furiously knocking a chair out of his way. It fell over and skidded across the room, and Hermione's guards pulled her along after him.

The procession moved through the empty hallways, and down several stairways, descending into the dimmer, colder areas of the castle. The dungeons then… she tried just once to ask where they were going… what was happening… and Moody turned on her so violently that she remained silent for the rest of the journey.

She'd never realized just how deep the dungeons went. They were well past the Potions classrooms when Moody marched them into a narrow, dark corridor. There were others waiting in front of a heavy wooden door, and Hermione felt a momentary surge of hope. The Headmistress, flanked by Kingsley and Tonks, was standing there, and surely she would make some sense of all this.

But one look at their faces, and she knew there was no reprieve for her here. Kingsley opened the door, and Hermione's guards ushered her into the cell. A narrow bench stood against one wall, and she sat, if only because her trembling limbs were refusing to hold her upright.

With one last snarl, "Should be Azkaban!", Moody led the way back out of the cell, leaving Hermione alone to face the Headmistress.

"Professor… ," she began weakly.

The Headmistress stared at her, with an expression that could only be described as desperate. She seized Hermione by the shoulders. "Voldemort's forces are massing in Little Hangleton, Hermione. We cannot think what this means but that something has happened to embolden him. We still know nothing of Severus Snape or Harry Potter's whereabouts—you must tell me what you know of this! The lives of everyone in the Order depend on it!"

She was pleading, and that shook Hermione badly. She nearly blurted out everything right there, but caught herself by biting her lip. I can't know what's happened, they can't know, not while Harry and Severus are still out there… "I…" McGonagall's eyes widened hopefully. Hermione pulled back and desperately shook her head. The Headmistress's face fell, then hardened, and Hermione whispered, "I'm sorry!"

"There is nothing more for you to say, Miss Granger." Professor McGongall addressed her without emotion. "We are forced to incarcerate you here, as we can no longer spare Order members to guard you. As soon as we have finished securing you, we are leaving for Little Hangleton. All of us."

She couldn't breath, and was suddenly afraid she'd vomit at the Headmistress's feet as nausea swept over her.

"It seems his forces are gathering in their entirety for this battle. The rest of the Order as well as the Ministry are of the opinion that there can be no greater indication than this, that Voldemort no longer has anything to fear. That we must assume, therefore, that Mr. Potter is dead."

"No… please…"

The Headmistress gave her such a look of disdain and disgust that Hermione shivered.

"By your actions, Miss Granger, you have taken away our greatest chance… our last hope, if you will. In spite of our efforts, Voldemort will prevail, but still… we will fight… and we will die."

She turned away, and left the room without another word. Hermione attempted to get to her feet, to go after her, to beg her not to believe that Harry was dead, that Hermione had destroyed them all… .

The door swung shut. In the darkness, Hermione fell to her knees.

To be continued…

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