Author's Notes:

Warning! This story contains strong sexual content.

March 2006. This chapter now contains H.B.P spoilers. Read book six first.

I want to thank all my loyal readers for waiting for this new chapter. I plan to alternate chapters between this story and my others.

This chapter was Beta'd by the all-powerful Nakhash Makashefah. Let's all lean down and kiss her glorious feet. Keep kissing until you suck the paint off her toenails.

Disclaimer. J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter and Co. I own nothing.

The Improper Use of Potions

Chapter 06 Finding a reason.

The sound of a door slamming shut in the old abandoned house above woke her. It wasn't really a house, just a four-room shack somewhere near Snape home on Spinner's End. She knew he would be coming soon. He would be bringing her food and potions to keep her alive. If she refused to eat and take the potions, as she often did, he would use magic to force them down her throat.

Her legs and wrists were shackled with short heavy chains. She could only move a foot away from her cot. She had longer chains to start with, but they were shortened when she tried to hang herself from one of the beams in the cellar's roof. She had tried to kill herself many times but without success. He made her wear a gag so that she could no longer bite her wrists or try to swallow her own tongue. She had no choice but to lie naked, chained to a filthy cot, praying that this nightmare life of hers would soon end.

Bellatrix hadn't understood what a true waste her life had been until she returned to her master a month ago with Snape's severed forearm. The Dark Lord took Snape's betrayal out on her. He saw her failure to bring his servant back as proof of her uselessness to him. He tortured her for days, using both curses and beatings. He let all of his servants witness her suffering, so they would know the cost of failure. Her bones were shattered then healed, just to be shattered again. She begged for death over and over, but he wouldn't release her to the next life. Finally after four days of relentless suffering, he brought a dementor to eat and destroy her very soul. He would deny her an afterlife, as well. She didn't care - anything to stop the pain.

It was his faithful servant Wormtail who convinced him to spare her life. He begged his master to give her to him. He promised that he would kill her once he tired of her. Knowing how much she despised the pitiful little Gryffindor, the Dark Lord agreed. He told Wormtail to bring him her head once he got bored with his new toy. For a month she has been trapped in this cellar, chained like an animal. Wormtail forced her to take the regenerative beauty potions. He wanted his plaything to as perfect and as beautiful as she had ever been.

Bellatrix only wanted death. She had been a fool all her life. Her dream of a world ruled by witches and wizards instead of filthy Muggles was just that - a dream. It had become clear to her that the Dark Lord cared nothing about ruling the Wizarding world. His only desire was to kill his enemies at all cost. His own immortality was his only concern. He would prefer to be the only wizard left in the world if it meant all of his enemies were dead. He didn't care that the Muggles were breeding like locusts, devouring everything in their path. Muggles were free to destroy this world with their wars and toxic pollution, while the magical world cowered in their shadow, shrinking a little more each year. She knew now that there was no hope for purebloods. She could only pray that the next world was better than this one.

The door to the cellar creaked open; the fat, squat little man came down the stairs. "Good morning, my love. It's time for breakfast," he merrily said. He held a small tattered picnic basket in one of his two left hands. He sat down on the edge of the cot, setting the basket on the floor. With a wave of his stubby wand all of her chains grew slack, giving her room to move. Wormtail reached around the back of her head, unbuckling the strap of her gag. He pulled it out of her mouth. The gag had breathing holes in it, with a long tube that snaked its way down her throat. It was always painful to remove. She sucked in deep breaths as her mouth was freed. She looked up at the pitiful man with murderous rage in her eyes. Bella would have spit in his face if only she had saliva. She had tried to goad the little bastard into killing her many times, but he never lost his temper. He knew she was his, and that there nothing she could do about it. If she were able to do one thing before dying, it would be to kill this pathetic excuse for a wizard.

"I have a treat for you today, my lovely. Fresh orange juice, muffins and some boiled eggs," he said with a smile. "I can't believe the Muggles just throw away perfectly good food out. Yesterday they threw out stacks of pancakes just because it wasn't breakfast time, anymore. Their waste is our gain." Bella was revolted by the fact that he was feeding her Muggle garbage. The man had been a rat far too long. Of course, that was all she was now. Just some garbage the Dark Lord had thrown out for his rat.

"You're looking very beautiful today, Bella. The potion has worked wonders. All of the scarring is gone, and your skin has a healthy glow once again," Wormtail told her as he ran his index finger along her cheek. Bella recoiled at being touched by the horrible thing. "What's wrong, my love? Is this the finger he used to violate you?" Peter asked as he looked at his second left hand. "You know, Snape does have a very sharp sense of touch. I only wish he had cut off his right arm instead of his left. Nevertheless, this is much better than that silver hand," he told her as he admired his new hand. "When our Lord kills Snape, I will be sure to take his other hand. That way I will have a matching set."

Wormtail sat her up on the cot. He opened the picnic basket and removed a child's thermos from it. He removed the thermos' cap and brought it to her lips. Normally she would refuse to drink or eat anything, but it had been more than a day since he had last fed her, and Bella's thirst was overpowering. "That's it. Drink up, you're going to need all your strength back," Peter said with a depraved look on his face. He had not raped her, yet. He seemed content to just fondle her body, for now. Bella knew soon that would not be enough for the rodent. She was almost completely healed. Soon, he would come and take her. He would indulge all of his sick perverted fantasies with her. When he finally tired of her, he would fulfill his promise to the Dark Lord, bringing him her head.

As much as she desired death, Bella didn't want this fool to be the end of her. For the past week she had contemplated on a way to escape the foul little wizard. Nothing had presented itself as of yet. She was chained naked to a cot in a bare room with a dirt floor. Even if she could move off the cot, there was nothing in the room to break her shackles. She had begged him to let her use the bathroom with hopes she could find something in the shack above that could break her bonds. He refused, content to let her soil the cot each day and lay in her own filth until he cleaned her and the cot with his wand. Bellatrix had only one option left to her. She would encourage him. She would lead him on in hopes that he would make a mistake.

Bella sat quietly while Wormtail hand-fed her muffins and two eggs. A week ago, she would have spit it back into his face. Now she needed his trust and his ignorance. She was a Slytherin, after all. In a battle of minds, this fool didn't stand a chance against her.

Hermione finished packing her suitcase then shrank it to the size of a large compact. She placed it in her robe along with her wand. She looked over at her two roommates, who were still sharing the same bed. They were both wrapped in each other's embrace, blissfully sleeping off the night of sexual exploration that all three had indulged in. Hermione felt bad for poor Parvati. Because of her, Parvati would probably always doubt her true sexual orientation. She didn't worry about Lavender at all. That girl was a lesbian through and through. Poor Ron, if he only knew.

Leaving her two slumbering playmates behind, Hermione slipped out of her dorm room. She felt guilty about not telling Harry and Ron she was leaving the school. She just didn't see a way she could explain this to them. She would talk to them when she got back. Hopefully by then, Hermione would know what she was going to do about the child she now carried. She had already decided that abortion was not an option. She wouldn't be able to live with that now that she knew her own daughter's face. That left adoption or raising the child herself. Snape would be the deciding factor.

It was ten after seven on a Saturday morning. The Great Hall was practically deserted. Only a couple of early risers and some staff were there. Hermione sat down at the Gryffindor table for a quick bite. She wasn't really hungry, which was surprising after the amount of energy she used last night. She didn't know when she would have a chance to eat again, so she decided on a small bowl of cinnamon oatmeal to tide her over.

"Wotcher, Hermione," Tonks said as she plopped down in the seat next to her. Hermione noticed that Tonks' hair was a mousy brown color, not the bright pink she was use to. Tonks looked more tried than she had last summer as well.

"Tonks? I thought you were going to meet me in the dungeon?" Hermione asked.

"Nah. I don't want to spend any more time in that place than I have to," Tonks said as she reached over and took a blueberry muffin off of a tray. "I spent seven years sleeping in that dungeon. The day I graduated, it was like being paroled from Azkaban."

"You were in Slytherin?" Hermione asked in surprise.

"Of course. I'm a Black, after all. My mum was a Slytherin; both my aunts were in Slytherin. The only Black I've ever heard of that wasn't a Slytherin, was Sirius," Tonks told her. "Why, what house did you think I was in?"

"I always assumed you were a Gryffindor," Hermione answered.

"I almost was. The Sorting Hat said that I had plenty of courage to be a Gryffindor, but it said that Slytherin would be better for my mischievous nature. I guess it was right. I couldn't have gotten away with half the things I did if I was in McGonagall's House," Tonks said with a smile.

"So, you had Snape as your Head of House. What was that like?" Hermione asked.

"He wasn't Head of Slytherin when I first got to Hogwarts. Professor Shreaker, our D.A.D.A teacher, was Head of Slytherin for my first three years here. Boy was she a bitch. The hag took more points away from her own house than any other. She had us scrubbing all the floors in the dungeon at least once a week. Can you believe that? Isn't a dungeon supposed to be dirty?" Tonks asked with an annoyed look on her face.

"She was that bad?" Hermione asked.

"I don't think we ended a single year with more than double-digit points. She didn't care if we won the house cup or not. She wasn't really a Slytherin, anyway. Shreaker never went to Hogwarts, she when to Durmstrang. Luckily for us Slytherins, she had a bad accident at the end of my third year that forced her to retire," Tonks said with an evil smile on her face.

"What did you do?" Hermione curiously asked.

"Why, Miss Granger, just what are you accusing me of?" Tonks asked with false indignation. "I'll have you know that nothing has ever shown that I, Charlie Weasley or Agnes Flint ever had anything to do with Professor Shreaker accidentally turning herself into a Bundimun fungus." Hermione remembered that Bundimun fungi were used to clean hard-to-remove magical stains from floors. "It took four weeks for Professor Flitwick to turn her back. She decided not to return the next year," Tonks said with a hint of pride in her voice.

"So, Snape was better?" she asked.

"Oh yeah," Tonks answered. "He was still creepy, but he always made sure we were in the running for the house cup. And when the dungeon floors needed cleaning, he always had plenty of students from the other three houses on detention to do it. He almost never came to the common room, so we could get away with murder."

"You mentioned Charles. Were you two friends?"

"Well, kind of; he was a Gryffindor, after all. But he was also the hottest wizard in the school. Every girl in Hogwarts wanted a piece of him. My friend Agnes and I would always secretly cheer for him to catch the Snitch, even when he played against Slytherin. Agnes had it really bad for Charlie; it really broke her heart when he asked someone else to the Yule Ball in our fifth year," Tonks said with a sad look on her face. "I think he liked her, too. He was just too embarrassed to date a member of the Flint family."

"Because they're all in Slytherin?" Hermione asked.

"No. Charlie didn't care what house you were in. I don't think he wanted to date her because of how poor the Flints are," Tonks answered.

"That doesn't make any sense," Hermione said. "The Weasleys are poor, too."

"The Flints are really poor. They make the Weasleys look like the Malfoys. Agnes' dad was a complete lush. He never had a job that lasted more than a month. Her mum died when she was only eight. Agnes had to raise herself and her little brother Marcus almost by herself. I don't even think they had a home to go to during the summer break. I once saw her and Marcus sleeping in a park. She said that they were just camping out. I think Charlie was ashamed at how poor he was, too. I think Agnes only reminded him of that." Tonks said with some regret.

"It sounds so sad, like the romance novels my mum always reads. But without the happy ending," Hermione told her.

"Yeah, love really sucks sometimes," Tonks said as she played with a muffin. Hermione didn't think she was talking about Charlie and Agnes anymore. "Speaking of romance, is it true? Did you and the greasy git actually do it?" Tonks asked in a whisper, so that no one could hear.

"Who told you?" Hermione angrily asked.

"Nobody. I just put two and two together. I'm a Auror, after all," Tonks told her.

"It's not what you think," Hermione whispered. "We weren't in any kind of relationship. It was just an accident."

"That's a very strange accident, Hermione. What happened, was he airing out his thing when you just happened to trip and fall in his lap, forgetting to wear knickers that day?" Tonks skeptically asked. "Even I have never been that clumsy."

After quickly looking around the Great Hall to make sure there were not Slytherins nearby to overhear her, Hermione leaned in and told Tonks in a low whisper the story of how she ended up carrying Snape's baby.

Ten minutes later, the two girls arrived at the door to Snape's chambers. "How do we get in?" Hermione asked.

"Dumbledore gave me the password," Tonks answered. Tonks gave a quick flick of her wand and said, "Koungoulou." There was a soft click as the door unlocked. Hermione had never heard that word before. It sounded African to her. She wouldn't be surprised if it was the name of the village where Snape's mother had been killed. "Shall we?" Tonks said as she opened the door.

Snape's private chambers were not what Hermione had expected. The first room they entered was quite small, only three by five meters. The large fireplace seemed out of place in a room this size. Hermione realized that it must be connected to the Floo Network. There was one large green chair sitting next to a small oak cabinet. A large desk with a chair was the only other thing in the room. No portraits or anything else adorned the stark, white plaster walls. What surprised Hermione the most was the lack books in the room, especially Potions texts. Seven different stacks of parchments sat on top of the desk. A quill was still in an open inkbottle, sitting next to a teacup on a saucer. Apparently, Snape had left in a real hurry.

"What are we looking for?" Tonks asked as she approached the desk.

"Anything personal," Hermione answered.

"It looks like Snape was in the middle of grading everybody's mid-term exams when he left," Tonks said as she looked through the stacks of parchments. "Here's yours, Hermione. You got a ninety, not bad."

"NINETY!" Hermione shouted as she took her exam form Tonks. Hermione knew she had gotten everything right; it wasn't even a hard exam. Sure enough, there was a big nine zero at the top of her exam. Under her score was written, 'Minus ten points for extra longwinded explanation of dark spells.' Hermione knew that if she had removed a single word from her explanations, he would have deducted points for inadequate explanation. "BLOODY TOSSER!" Hermione said as she threw the parchment onto the desk.

"Jackpot!" Tonks joyfully shouted as she opened the small oak cabinet. It was a bar. Bottles of bourbon, whiskey scotch and vodka filled the cabinet. Tonks removed a small silver flask with a Slytherin coat of arms on it. "What do you think we should take with us? The bourbon or the whiskey?" Tonks asked.

"I don't care, Tonks. Remember, I don't drink," Hermione told her.

"Wait 'til you're staking out some place in the middle of a cold winter night. I'll bet you'll take a nip, then," Tonks said as she filled the flask with bourbon.

After going through the desk drawers and finding nothing of interest, they moved on to the bedchamber. Snape's bedchamber was the same size as the other room. A large four-poster bed, with a beautiful velvet green bedspread, filled most of the room. A small bureau sat just right of the bed. The rest of the room was completely bare. Two doors were on the opposite side of the room. One had to be the loo, and the other was most likely a closet. Hermione opened one of the doors to reveal a small bathroom. The next door was a closet. Five sets of identical black robes, shirts and pants hung neatly inside. Two pairs of polished boots sat on the floor. 'What is he, a monk?' Hermione thought to herself, after seeing no signs of personal clutter that most people have.

"Hey, I fond something," Tonks said as she withdrew a small picture from Snape's bureau. Hermione quickly walked around the bed to meet her. "I think that's Snape," Tonks said, handing her the picture. It was a picture of a small boy, no older than four or five. The boy had raven-black hair and eyes to match. He held the hand of a woman in her twenties with a pallid face and heavy brows. The woman had dark brown hair and sparkling blue eyes. Hermione had never seen her before but recognized her instantly as Snape's mother. She had seen those sparkling blue eyes many times before. Eileen prince had the same warm, kind eyes as her father. It was her only endearing feature. "It's hard to believe that cute little boy would grow up to be Professor Snape," Tonks told her.

Hermione studied the small boy in the picture. This was the first time she had ever seen Snape with a genuine smile on his face. He looked as carefree as any other four-year-old. None of the cruel features that now dominated his face were present in the photo. Hermione felt sad for the two in the picture, knowing their happiness would be short-lived. Turning the picture over Hermione saw something written on the back. "To my little H.B.P, love mom."

"What does H.B.P, stand for?" Tonks asked.

"I don't know" Hermione answered, but that wasn't completely true. Harry's mystery author quickly came to mind. She held the picture in both her hands as she sat down on the bed. There was a slight rush of air as Hermione felt herself falling. With a hard painful thud, Hermione's butt hit the floor.

"What the hell," Tonks said as she stared at Hermione with a very surprised look on her face. Hermione looked around to see that only her head was showing though the velvet green bedspread.

"The bed is a illusion," Hermione said as she got back to her feet. She took out her wand and pointed it the mirage, and said, "Finite Incantatem." The bed shimmered for a second then disappeared, leaving a bare floor.

"Why would he have a fake bed in his room?" Tonks asked.

"I don't know, " she answered. "Maybe he doesn't sleep." Hermione looked around the now almost vacant room. Above her, she noticed a large two-meter long wooden beam sticking out of the wall, only inches from the ceiling. It was about four inches wide with deep gouges along its length. "What do you think that's for?" Hermione asked as she stared at the beam.

"Maybe he strings up animals to torture before he turns them into potions ingredients. Maybe the occasional first year as well," Tonks answered. Hermione doubted very seriously that that's what the beam was for. It did look like it was supposed to carry a heavy weight. Some of the gouges looked pretty fresh.

"Maybe he suspended a cauldron from chains," Hermione suggested.

"Why not do it in his lab?" Tonks asked.

"I don't know. Maybe he was trying to keep what he was doing a secret," Hermione told her.

"Hermione, let's get out of here. This place gives me the heebie-jeebies," Tonks said with a worried expression on her face.

"You're right, we should get started. It appears Snape was too smart to leave anything behind that would shine light on where he was going or what he was up to," Hermione said as she pulled the medallion out of her robe. She closed her eyes, and then held the medallion tightly while concentrating only on Snape. Once again, she felt her mind being pulled in a certain direction. "He's still south west," Hermione said as she opened her eyes.

"How far do you think?" Tonks asked.

"I'm not sure, hundreds of miles at least. He's on the coast somewhere," Hermione answered.

"We go to Liverpool. We try again there," Tonks said. "The express is leaving in thirty minutes. We'd better hurry."

Next chapter coming soon.

As you can see, Bellatrix will have a big part in this story. Hermione needs a deadly rival, after all.