All characters, names and places that you recognise in this story belong to JKR and most definitely not me. The story line, however, is completely my own (though the clichés' origins are debatable), and I want no part of this story posted anywhere else without my prior knowledge and permission.

xxx

I think you are not my friend
I think you're not on my side
I think I was far to blind
I think I made a mistake

You call me a traitor
But you are a snake
An eye for an eye
And a tooth for a tooth

I think you are in too deep
I think you're not what you seem
I think I have been a fool
I think I should take more care

You try to sneak behind my back
But trust can not be stolen
Friendship must be earned and affection's not for sale
I know you want respect
But contempt is all you get from me
We are forever unforgiven

-Unforgiven by Covenant

xxx

Diary of Severus Snape

Wednesday 26th of November, 1997

Less than ten minutes after leaving the castle I am nursing my first glass of Rosmerta's secret stash of 40 year old Scotch, saved usually for Albus on one of his infrequent visits to The Three Broomsticks. My mind is in too much turmoil to give the drink the attention it rightly deserves and I try very hard not to dwell on what has got me so rattled. Instead, I pray for distraction, and as always, my prayers are answered with irony.

"Severus."

No. Fuck, no. All the things I have done that deserve punishment, I doubt I deserve quite this amount.

I lift my gaze from the incredibly expensive amber liquid in my glass to the gleeful smirk on Lucius Malfoy's face.

"Lucius," I greet with a nod of my head. I knew I should have just taken a large dose of Dreamless Sleep and stayed in my quarters for the rest of the term.

"Been allowed out to play, Severus?" he asks, his posh inbreeding evident in his voice as always. "Surely you can afford somewhere more tasteful than this? Even on that awful teacher's salary of yours…"

Rosmerta busies herself with restocking her shelves, pretending not to hear. She is much more sensitive to insults than a woman who spends her days and nights in a pub full of drunken louts should ever be.

"Is there some reason for your visit?" I ask, downing what is left in my glass and throwing Rosmerta a grateful look as she immediately saunters over to refill my glass before going back over to the other side of the bar.

"Isn't visiting old friends enough of a reason?" Lucius asks, his eyes narrowing in irritation at being blatantly ignored by Rosmerta.

"No," I reply. I swirl the liquid around my glass and take another large mouthful, enjoying the burning sensation as it slides down my throat. It is sacrilege to waste this Whisky like this, not to mention expensive. I also don't have to remind myself that it is exceedingly dangerous to allow myself to drink in the presence of Lucius Malfoy, whose ulterior motives are as yet unknown but are undoubtedly there.

I order a drink for Lucius despite the audaciously rude face Rosmerta dares to pull at me when Lucius turns his back. Lucius predictably turns his nose up at the drink but sips it delicately anyway, throwing me a look that is meant to convey to me that I should be grateful he is refraining from making a scene.

"Our Lord is becoming impatient, Severus," he tells me in a discreet undertone, looking disdainfully over his glass at the other people in the pub as he does. "You are in a better position than all of us, yet your information is barely useful."

"My position at Hogwarts is precarious at best," I tell him, resisting the urge to just walk out and leave him sitting there. The only thing stopping me is the fact that I do not under any circumstances want Lucius following me back to the school in an attempt to finish his little chat with me.

"So you keep saying," Lucius tells me, affecting a bored tone. "If it wasn't for your apparent expertise in the art of Potion making, I think it is very unlikely that our Lord would keep you alive."

It strikes me that, on some level, my cutting words and tone must have been learnt from Lucius. When he took me under his wing after I ran from my father, when he helped me carry out my first and only premeditated and calculated murder, I had looked up to him. Young, alone and full of anger, he tried his hardest to mould me to his will, and in doing so passed on the only trait of his I have ever found useful. Only he and I can utter the word 'expertise' with such distain.

"The Dark Lord is in possession of each and every piece of information I have been privy to," I tell him. "It is his choice, not mine, to act on only some of that knowledge."

He makes a disbelieving noise that is almost undignified and I am reminded of the very few occasions I have seen this man with his guard down. In the small number of times Lucius has let himself be human, he has shown himself to be almost likable. Unfortunately, even under the arrogance, he is still sadistic, power-hungry and still looking for ways to betray you; enviable qualities in a Slytherin, almost fatal qualities in a 'friend.'

"If you have concerns, Lucius, why not take them up with the Dark Lord?" I murmur. Rosmerta is standing too near for us to be having this conversation.

Lucius is as aware as I am of the dangers of questioning the Dark Lord, and according to my godson, Lucius, too, was tortured on that night I allowed Miss Granger to nurse me. I smirk inwardly as a fearful and irritated look passes over Lucius' too perfect features.

I attract Rosmerta's attention with nothing more than a look, which proves she is intent on me, if not on the conversation I am participating in. At a dip of my head she fills my glass once again and winks at me.

"Thank you," I say, with a narrowing of the eyes that should have warned her to disappear to the other end of the bar until I had gone.

"Another for you, too, Mr. Malfoy?" she asks with a smile that is almost convincing as she ignores my silent caution.

He doesn't answer but slides his glass towards her. She fills it up and then takes no more than two steps away from us. This irritates me – playful and amusing she may sometimes be, but she knows what kind of men both Lucius and I are, and if she hears too much, she is in danger of being murdered in her bed tonight.

I drink my Whisky quickly, feeling the alcohol warming me and taking the edge off my thoughts. One more drink and I will probably leave here just about drunk enough to not be picturing the hurt and desolate look on Miss Granger's face as I left her this evening. No amount of alcohol, however, is going to stop me picturing her perfect breasts every time I close my eyes.

I put my glass back onto the bar with more than the necessary force. Before I can snap at Lucius to get on with whatever it is that he came for so I can go back to having some peace and quiet, I feel a tickling pressure at the front of my mind. Lucius is unwisely trying to look into my thoughts, possibly assuming that the alcohol has weakened my defences. I am more than tempted to expel him from my mind with enough pressure to send him flying across the room, in front of all these people he considers so beneath him. I'm sure a good many of them would be only too delighted to see Lucius Malfoy land on his arrogant arse.

Tempting as this is, instead I break the connection effortlessly and shake my head mockingly at him. The look, unfortunately, is completely lost on him as his attention is focused on something just over my shoulder. I turn to see what has managed to capture his attention so effectively, and my heart sinks.

"Well, well, if it isn't Miss Granger," Lucius drawls, eyeing her from the top of her now untidy head to the tips of her booted toes with a look I recognise and instantly wish to shield her from. She is wearing the exact same clothes that she was wearing for Potter, apparently not taking the time to do more than pull her t-shirt back on in her pursuit of me. The goose pimples on her skin are testament to the fact that it is almost winter, and only a complete imbecile would venture outside without a coat.

Despite her chattering teeth and state of dishevelment, she looks even more appealing than she did before, though it was still glaringly apparent that the girl had been crying. She is looking between Lucius and I with a look of apprehension on her face. It is obvious, to me at least, that she has come in search of me. I am now aware that I have to force her to retreat back to the safety of Hogwarts before I am responsible for her capture, rape and imminent death. I know Lucius.

"Would you care for a drink?" Lucius offers cordially, an insincere smile forming on his lips. "A shot of Firewhisky, a Butterbeer, perhaps?"

"I don't think so," she says with a smile that is equally as insincere. She, conversely, doesn't attempt to hide the fact.

"Nonsense, Miss Granger," Lucius says, his eyes on the swell of her breasts. I follow his gaze and realise that the cold has done very little to preserve Miss Granger's modesty.

"Leave her be, Lucius," I say as neutrally as I can. I turn back to the bar to pick up my drink, and when I turn around the obtuse girl is still standing there, watching me.

"Severus' bark is much worse than his bite," Lucius informs her smoothly, never taking his eyes from hers.

"It really isn't," I inform the girl shortly.

"That I believe," she mutters, sending me a dark look. I raise my eyebrows at her and Lucius laughs delightedly.

"Go back to school, Miss Granger," I snap, slamming my glass back onto the bar. "Or I will have you scrubbing cauldrons from now until you graduate."

She looks far less intimidated than she should, and she evidently has no idea of the precarious situation she is currently in.

"Ignore him," Lucius says. As if she needs an invitation to do that - she is already blatantly ignoring me. "Let me buy you both a drink. Severus might even loosen up, given enough of this stomach rotting stuff he seems to enjoy indulging in."

Miss Granger shoots me a look that says quite clearly that she doubts any amount of alcohol will loosen me up. If the situation wasn't so serious, I'd be tempted to walk out and leave her to the dubious charms of Lucius Malfoy.

"She certainly is fiery, Severus," he observes, amused. "You never mentioned she had such spirit."

"I never mentioned her at all," I retort. Why is she still standing there? It's not like I can offer to walk her safely back to school – with Lucius around, my protection would be worth very little. I have a role that must be played, and if Lucius' was the only pair of eyes on us, I would be just as dangerous as he.

"My son tells me you are very adept at everything you choose to do," Lucius says, addressing Miss Granger once more. "Why don't you sit down for a while and we can discuss your future aspirations? I have a lot of contacts in the Ministry that could be very useful to you once you graduate."

She opens her mouth to respond, and then her eyes look up uncertainly at me. I narrow my eyes at her in a clear warning, and unlike Rosmerta, she understands immediately and shakes her head in mock regret. The distaste is evident in her eyes, and a charmer Lucius may be, but whatever dealings Miss Granger has had with him in the past have certainly left a lasting impression.

"I appreciate the offer," she lies smoothly. "But no, thank you. I only came in here because I became separated from my friends. I'll try The Hog's Head instead – they've probably gone there."

She turns and walks towards the door, then at the last minute she looks over her shoulder.

"Goodnight, sir," she says softly, tenderly and unforgivably. Lucius' suspicious eyes are on me in question before the door has even swung shut.

"Well, well, Severus," he murmurs mockingly. "I never would have expected it from you. Has the Dark Lord heard of this interesting development?"

"There is no development, Lucius."

This is not going to work. Lucius is no fool, and convincing as the girl was, there is little chance that he believes she is here with her friends. He may not be pursuing her across the hills to the castle, but if I cannot convince him I have no hold over the girl, he won't need to.

What possessed the girl to come to find me? Nothing could have been so urgent that it could not have waited until the morning. It really does seem that Gryffindor stupidity knows no bounds - The Hog's Head, indeed.

"She certainly came here tonight looking to speak to you," he says with a short laugh. "Come now, Severus, don't deny it. I'm proud of you, and I'm sure the Dark Lord will be thrilled, although as he knows everything you know, I doubt I'll need to tell him, will I?"

"My tastes are far less… dirty," I murmur, disgust at the very thought evident in my voice.

"Come on, Severus. Do you really expect me to believe you're not fucking her? Credit me with some intelligence – I have eyes in my head."

"Credit me with some taste, Lucius," I snarl, rounding on him, my hand closing tightly around the wand in my pocket. "Drop the subject before I am forced to make a scene."

When he simply shrugs indifferently I cannot decide whether my relief outweighs my shock. I decide not to look a gift-horse in the mouth and bluntly change the subject.

"How is Narcissa?" I ask politely. I am actually interested, but for all the attention Lucius pays his wife, I could be asking their family owl instead, as he would be about as knowledgeable.

"My, my, she has grown up, hasn't she?" he murmurs distractedly.

I sigh. "Narcissa?" I ask pointedly.

He laughs, a harsh sound that startles the nearby patrons and makes Rosmerta look over at us with an undisguised wary look on her face. Yes, an amused Lucius Malfoy is certainly something to be wary of.

"Narcissa is as unbalanced, hysterical and naïve, as she always is," Lucius tells me without remorse for the harsh words his is speaking about his beloved. "And just as beautiful. She feels that you have been avoiding us lately, though I keep reassuring her that you are still our friend. Are you, Severus?"

"One of your oldest, Lucius," I affirm. "Give Narcissa my apologies; I have been unfeasibly busy lately."

"Of course."

He doesn't believe me, and I am inclined not to care.

"The Mudblood would be the perfect pet for the nights Narcissa has one of her headaches…" he muses softly, looking towards the doorway of the pub as if she is still standing there.

The anger inside me reaches a boiling point as it arrives abruptly and refuses to leave. I attempt to drown it with more alcohol and resolutely ignore Lucius as he stares into the distance lost in contemplation.

"Innocent, yet intense and spirited," he says to himself. "All the more fun to break."

"Still lowering yourself to fucking Mudbloods," I challenge in an undertone. "Go home to your wife, Lucius, and leave the children be. This is getting tiresome."

The pub is filling up and the noise is starting to get almost as irritating as the company I am being forced to keep. When Lucius leans closer to whisper conspiratorially in my ear, I am forced to suppress a shudder of revulsion as his lips brush my ear. He makes my skin crawl more now than he did in the early days of our friendship.

"Don't tell me you've never been tempted," he breathes into my ear. "I wouldn't believe you, my friend."

"My tastes differ from yours, Lucius," I sneer at him. "I like my partners to be willing and at least of age."

My words would be more effective if I hadn't had to attempt to banish all thoughts of Hermione Granger from my head for almost the entire time I had been sitting in this drinking establishment. The image of her standing in front of me, topless and offering herself to me on a plate is really playing havoc with my sense of self. I am not someone who takes advantage of students, I barely even tolerate my students. I have to get her out of my head before she drives me to an even earlier grave than I already anticipate.

Lucius, seemingly unaware of my inner torment, pushes away the free drink Rosmerta has placed in front of him and frowns in the direction of the exit.

"I think it's about time I pay my wife some attention," he drawls, his eyes glinting. I mentally calculate how long it's been since Miss Granger had left and how long it would take Lucius to catch her up. No, she would be safely inside the castle by now.

"Give her my regards, Lucius," I say deliberately sounding bored.

I turn to catch Rosmerta's eye and she smiles and fills my glass, winking at me as she turns back to a conversation she had been having with a witch I don't recognise.

Lucius is gone before I have turned back from the bar with my drink in my hand. A minute or so after he leaves, Rosmerta breaks off her conversation with the blonde witch and walks back towards me.

"The company you keep is terrible, Severus," she says, laughing. She laughs more than any person I have ever met, and that includes Albus when he's had a skinful. I would find this irritating, but she is, at the very least, a change from the rest of the people I meet, who are all innately miserable. Then again, that could just be a consequence of them being in my company; I sincerely hope so.

"Unfortunately, I do not always select my own company," I tell her. If I did select my company, ninety-nine out of a hundred times I'd choose not to have any at all; I decide not to relay this fact to her.

"I do hope he doesn't give Hermione any trouble," she says, suddenly uncharacteristically serious and earnest. "He did seem a bit preoccupied with her when she was peeping in before."

My alcohol filled brain takes a moment to process her words and dread fills me before I even realise what it is that is wrong.

"Peeping in?"

"Yes," Rosmerta confirmed. "She kept looking through that window. I think she was looking at you, actually Severus."

I am off my stool before she has finished her sentence and am striding out of the door. All my years as a spy and double agent – how did I not notice her?

The streets of Hogsmeade are unusually empty, but I know she has been here. I turn, scanning the streets for any sign of either Lucius or her. Out of the corner of my eye I catch sight of a flurry of school robes that I recognise far too clearly, and then there is nothing more; no sounds except the distant laughter of people in the pubs around Hogsmeade; nothing to see in the moonlight except the cobbled streets, houses and shops. She is gone.

That is the last time I saw her, and apparently the last time anyone saw her. Potter, of course, blames himself. Minerva, I can tell, blames me; although I am assured she only knows the sketchy outlines of my involvement in the situation prior to the girl's disappearance. Albus, however, now knows the entire story. I am expecting to be relieved of my position in the school at any moment, and I can't bring myself to care.

The papers claim she has run away. Her parents are distraught and the Weasley boy has taken to standing on the Astronomy Tower with a pair of Quidditch Omnioculars.

She has been kidnapped; I know who by and I know exactly where she will be, but there is nothing I can do about it. I am about to drink myself into oblivion where I can pretend I don't care and that I'm not inches away from giving up on everything, including my own life. I don't want to be here anymore – I don't want to do this anymore. I'm so utterly tired of all this.

xxx

Draycott Hotel, London

"God, Hermione."

"Just keep reading."

xxx

Diary of Severus Snape

Thursday, 27th of November, 1997

I have come out of the other side of my apathy, helped by a handful of hangover potions and a large amount of Pepper Up, a potion I always refuse to down while I am in the infirmary – Poppy gets far too much amusement out of the steam pouring from my ears – and now every fibre of my being is burning for revenge.

I know what will be happening to her. I have felt how she will be feeling, the terror, the despair, the loneliness and humiliation. I can't let her go through all this because of yet another of my mistakes. And it is because of me that she has been taken by him; she came to talk to me, she sought me out and I ignored her and left her to the not-so-tender mercies of Lucius Malfoy, a man who surpasses even Macnair in his flair for cruelty and torture.

Albus has spent this entire day periodically checking on me. He advises me to practice restraint. If I turn up at Malfoy Manor, my wand blazing, I could be responsible for her immediate death, yet I cannot just sit in my quarters and do nothing. I consumed enough alcohol last night that the mere thought of drinking more today makes my stomach turn, and alcohol is the only thing that will dull my senses enough to stop me from going to the Manor now. It is the only thing that could promise me some relief from my tortured thoughts.

This morning I was sent an invitation, done in the usual ostentatious, flamboyant Malfoy way, to Draco's annual birthday celebration. This year he will be coming of age and the invitation says to expect something fitting to the occasion, which translated means that Miss Granger and a handful of others will be the entertainment for the evening.

Subtlety, in this case, does not seem to be Lucius' strong point. He is effectively saying, I have the girl and am going to torture her in front of your eyes. And I will not play his games – I am no longer a child seeking approval and revenge; I am more powerful than he ever dreamed I would be when he first brought me to his Lord, and I am tired of restrict constraining that power.

Albus' warnings and doubts are ringing in my ears. Will Lucius be planning on handing the girl over to the Dark Lord? Or will he be blinded by lust and his addiction to tormenting me, and fail to see her usefulness? I somehow doubt that even Lucius could be that blind. All I am truly sure of is that I must get her out of there. I have to save her from my own fate.

xxx

Draycott Hotel, London

"I'm so sorry, Hermione," Ginny murmured, reaching her hand out to touch her friend's arm, before seeming to think better of it and pulling it back. "None of us knew, or even suspected. You told us all it had been a huge misunderstanding, that the pressure of all those exams had got on top of you and you were visiting family for a break. You actually apologised for upsetting us by not letting anyone know! I can't believe I believed you of all people would be so irresponsible. God, Hermione, why didn't you tell us?"

"The pressure was getting to me," Hermione argued. "You know what I'm like about exams. My excuse was more than believable. You weren't to know."

"But how could you not tell us where you'd been? What had happened?"

"You know I'm a private person, Ginny," Hermione said quietly, leaning her head in her hands so she didn't have to look at her friend. "I never talked about my own problems, and I was sure I could deal with it on my own. I thought I could, anyway."

"Past tense? So things changed? You did talk to someone?" Ginny's fingers were plucking nervously at the bedspread as she watched Hermione carefully, as if after all this time she was about to fall apart in front of her.

Hermione looked up from her hands and watched Ginny pick at the covers. She sighed softly.

"Think about how it was when we were that age, Ginny," she said. "You were sixteen, I had just turned eighteen; everything was so intense then. Harry was trying to come to terms with the very real possibility that he might not live to see another year – I was there for most of his nightmares, so I knew how he was suffering."

Ginny nodded mutely.

"Ron was in the middle of that ridiculous secret affair with Katie Bell and was barely aware that the world was still turning. Even you were caught up in your own secrets and problems at the time. I didn't have many friends then, although the ones I had were amazing, everyone had their own lives, their own struggles."

"You can't blame us, Hermione," Ginny said softly, as if she were afraid of upsetting her friend, which she undoubtedly was. "You didn't even try to talk to us or let us in. You know we'd have dropped everything to look after you and get you through the aftermath of that. I was kidnapped by Tom for Merlin's sake; didn't you think that I at least would understand?"

"I know you would have been there for me," Hermione said, grabbing Ginny's hand that was still plucking at the covers and holding it in her own, mostly to stop her wrecking the bed sheets, which would then be added to her bill at the end of her stay.

"I'm not blaming you, or Ron and Harry," she denied. "I'm not like you, Ginny. My parents are, were…"

"I think I can guess that much – I have met your mum," Ginny said with a slight smile. "I can guess how it was for you growing up."

"Before dad was murdered, they were both so much worse than mum is now," Hermione said, letting go of Ginny's hand to take a deep drink of her wine. "Mum and I are so much closer now, and we understand each other finally. My parents always loved and supported me, but I was never encouraged to be at all emotional. If any of us were upset or worried, we were very sensible, very strong and handled it alone, or at the very least with help, but without emotion. Your family is so different compared to mine."

"Well that's why you're with Harry, isn't it?" Ginny said, encouragingly. "You've got a family of your own now and you can turn it into anything you want."

"Do you really think Harry's that perfect?" Hermione asked. "He's the best friend any girl could ask for, but as a husband, do you think he would be what you would want? Do you really think he would be the knight in shining armour everyone thinks he is?"

"I really do think Harry is that perfect," Ginny replied. "He has flaws, like any man, but they are outnumbered by his good points. Are you telling me Snape is so much better?"

"Severus is just as flawed as I am," Hermione answered, softly. She turned away from where she had been studying her glass of wine to look at Ginny.

"Are you still in love with Harry?" she asked, bluntly.

"No, of course not," Ginny said steadily, holding Hermione's gaze. "But God, Hermione, he has to be better than Snape, whatever is wrong with him! And you have a kid with Harry! You have to think about Nicole."

"I am thinking about Nicole," Hermione said. "And I do know that she'd grow up happy with Harry and I as her family. She also adores Severus."

Shock plainly written on her face, Ginny opened her mouth to speak and then closed her mouth again. She groaned into her own hands.

"What happened to you? I used to think that life for you was so simple – how did you manage to hide it all from us for so long? You were gone for five days! All that time with that Slytherin bastard and anything could have happened. Did Malfoy hurt you, Hermione?"

"What do you think?" Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "Of course he hurt me; you know that he raped and tortured Severus, do you really think that with me he'd say, 'Welcome to my home, Hermione, we've prepared the guest room for you. Care for some tea and biscuits?'"

Ginny snorted in bleak amusement.

"He raped you?"

"No," Hermione answered, looking away from her friend. "He was going to give me to Draco for that as a birthday present, so that he could. You can imagine how thrilled Draco was at that prospect."

"I'm hoping, not very?" Ginny asked hopefully.

"Draco is a complete wanker at times, but you know that a good percentage of the crappy things he has done have been done in an incredibly misguided attempt at to please his father. He was horrified. He said something along the lines of, 'No offence, Granger, but I just don't fancy you.'"

"That's lovely. So this party that Snape was going to was Draco's birthday party?" Ginny asked. "Did Snape manage to get you out before anything horrible happened to you?"

"Ginny, plenty of horrible things happened – rape isn't always the worst case scenario when it comes to people like Lucius Malfoy. When I realised he'd noticed me watching Severus, I started walking back up to the school as quickly as I could, but by then it was too late."

"Why on earth were you watching him in the first place? Watching Snape get drunk isn't my idea of a fun evening – and the amount he drinks, does he have a problem?"

Hermione looked pointedly at the nearly empty bottle of wine next to them.

"If you can't bring yourself to use his first name, then at least remember that he is still a Professor – it's Professor Snape."

"Fine, Professor Snape then," Ginny said, rolling her eyes. "I think there are probably some more important issues here, Hermione."

"I was upset because Harry had pretty much been revolted by the thought of touching me," Hermione continued, ignoring her friend. "I needed to find out if Severus would still take the blood from me at another time. If he had refused to I was going to attempt to get him drunk and talk him into taking my virginity, with the aide of a lust potion if needs be. Then he could have collected the blood and it would all be over with."

"Were you insane?" Ginny asked incredulously.

"Possibly, yes," Hermione answered. "But I was desperate, and don't forget that I never found Severus repulsive, like the rest of you did. After those weeks working with him at the start of that term, I'd gotten a little bit addicted to his presence. He gets so absorbed in anything he does; when he's brewing a potion, nothing exists outside of that. He is intense, focused and brilliant. Can you imagine all that being focused on you? It's breathtaking. And to have someone so controlled and restrained fall apart as you touch them…"

"Alright, alright," Ginny interrupted, pulling a face. "I get it, I do. What I don't get is how you could have wanted to cheat on Harry to do that. He'd have come round in the end. He fancies you now."

"Harry and I weren't together," Hermione said, almost succeeding in hiding her irritation at having to repeat it again. "You know we weren't. Harry and I weren't officially boyfriend and girlfriend until a while after that, and even then, it wasn't as simple as it seemed to everyone else."

"You and Harry were always going to get together. From fifth year we could all see it, it was only a matter of time."

"So people kept telling me," Hermione answered shortly.

"What happened to you in Hogsmeade? You were spying on Snape and waiting for Malfoy to leave? Then Malfoy came out, found you and Apparated away with you?"

"Pretty much, yes," Hermione said with a carefully casual shrug. "When I'd realised that Malfoy had seen me, I headed towards the school with my wand clasped tightly in my hand. Remus had taught me to be on my guard, and with a Malfoy around, I most definitely was. I didn't expect an Apparition from him – how could he have known exactly where I was?"

"You can do that, too," Ginny interrupted. "You've been finding us through Apparation for years, Hermione."

"After Severus taught me how," Hermione said, nodding. "I wasn't even aware it was possible. Nothing I had read had suggested that that kind of Apparition even existed, until then."

"I was running, and suddenly he was standing there in front of me," Hermione continued. "He was blocking my path, and calmly ordering him to stand aside wasn't going to work. I tried to run back to Hogsmede; it wasn't far away. If I'd have been in a calmer frame of mind I'd have tried Apparating there myself, but if I'd have tried that, part of me would have probably ended up in Wales instead."

Ginny nodded.

"He needlessly chased me all the way back to Hogsmeade," Hermione said. "Taunting me the entire way, barely out of breath while I was ready to drop. I had almost managed to make it back to The Three Broomsticks, to where I knew Severus was and would have had to help me, or Rosmerta, or someone. But by then he'd got bored of chasing me and had finally resorted to stunning me."

"When I woke up, I was in complete darkness. It was terrifying. It took me a long time to dare to move at all, let alone explore my prison. When I finally dared to explore, I was feeling along the walls when my hand touched someone's face."

"Someone else was in there with you?" Ginny asked, watching Hermione closely. Her friend had curled in on herself, her knees pulled up to her chest defensively and Ginny was having to force herself not to reach out and hold Hermione. That wasn't how her friend worked when she was in distress, and it wouldn't help.

Hermione swallowed hard and started to speak, then stopped. She buried her head in her hands, and when she finally spoke, her voice was muffled by her fingers.

"The face," she said, trying to steady her voice. "The skin… it was cold."

"Cold?" Ginny asked, icy horror filling her as she digested Hermione's words.

"They were dead," Hermione said. "She was dead. I was in a pitch-black cell, with a dead body. My screams could probably be heard about eight hundred floors up in Draco's bedroom."

A comforting hand touched Hermione's shoulder tentatively, and when she didn't push Ginny away, Ginny let it stay there.

"Have you explored Malfoy Manor?" Hermione asked with an inappropriate and slightly hysterical laugh. "It's bloody huge. There are rooms even Draco has never been in. I was left alone for what could have been either hours or days, and when Lucius finally deigned to visit me with a lamp in his hand, the light hurt my eyes so much that I could barely open them."

She took a deep breath and Ginny's hand tightened on her shoulder.

"Lucius stripped me, touched me, and when I wouldn't answer his questions, he beat me with that fucking cane of his."

"I was only there five days," Hermione said into her hands. "Draco snuck down, fed me healing potions and whatever food I could keep down – I took potions from Draco Malfoy without even bothering to sniff them first; I was so sure I would die in there like that other girl had."

"On my second day there, Draco told me that Severus had been to try to get me out. Uncle Severus he called him. I didn't know whether to despair because his attempt to save me had failed, or rejoice because that meant that the right people knew where I was. And despite what anyone thinks of Severus, he is one of the right people, Ginny."

"I know, Hermione," Ginny whispered, sliding her arm around her friend's shoulders and pulling her close. "I know he is."

"On my fourth day there," Hermione continued, not moving from her bent position, but also not pushing Ginny away, "during a beating from Lucius, he was ranting at me, telling me what would happen to me. He said he was going to force Severus to take my 'precious' virginity, and then when I was begging to die, Lucius would take me to Voldemort for him to rape me too."

"Jesus, Hermione."

"I wasn't a toy for Draco anymore," Hermione said. "I was to be a punishment for Severus. Whatever had gone on when Severus had tried to get me out of there, he'd pissed Lucius off royally."

Ginny wrapped her other arm around Hermione and Hermione finally uncurled herself to fling herself into her friend's arms. Sobs wracking her body, Hermione cried on Ginny for the first time since the girls had become friends.

xxx

Diary of Severus Snape

Friday, 28th November, 1997

Malfoy Manor never changes, the stench of wealth mixes with the stench of death and torture to make a truly unique stench. How the authorities never find anything is beyond me – I assume Lucius pays them all off. I should have slipped him a nicely undetectable poison years ago. If I kill him now, the Dark Lord will know and undoubtedly kill me, but upon reflection, I think it may actually be worth it.

"Severus, what a delightful surprise," he greets me like a long lost friend, kissing me on each cheek like he hasn't seen me in years. I have the urge to scrub my skin where his lips have touched it. Or punch him in a frighteningly Muggle manner.

"Where is she, Lucius?" I hiss, coming straight to the point. There is nothing Lucius hates more than his subtle mind games being ruined with Gryffindor bluntness, and this is the one time I haven't the patience to play his games.

"Narcissa? Oh she's here somewhere, I daresay. Shall I fetch her for you?"

"The girl, Lucius. Tell me where she is and I won't kill you." My wand is at his throat before he has time to open his mouth to respond. I can feel his pulse at the very tip, fluttering against it and if I push any harder, I'll cut off his oxygen supply, with or without a nice constricting hex. Only the thought that in doing so I will sentence the Granger girl to death stops me from moving my wand the extra few centimetres to complete the task.

"Really, Severus," Lucius reprimands me lightly, as if I don't currently hold his life in my hands. "I have always told you to never get attached to your pets. A Mudblood and a Gryffindor, and you are prepared to die for her… it's really quite touching. And here I believed you all these years when you claimed you weren't fucking the students. Now Miss Parkinson, there's a girl worth losing your job over…"

"I don't have time for games." I dig the wand deeper, making him wince – for Lucius, this is as close as you get to having him screaming in pain.

"Neither do I, old friend, which is why you'll have to excuse me; I'm preparing for a party – Draco's coming of age. Of course, you are invited – I know Narcissa would never have forgotten to owl your invitation to you. You can be my guest of honour, Severus."

"Do I have to Imperio you to make you take me to her, Lucius?" I snarl.

"Is our Lord aware that you have become so attached to Potter's girlfriend, Severus?"

A curse – either the Imperius or Killing Curse is about to leave my wand when out of the corner of my eye, a shock of white-blonde hair draws my attention away from the unholy wizard I currently hold captive. Draco is shaking his head, almost imperceptibly. His eyes wide and locked with mine, he is inviting me to read his mind in an offer of trust I have very rarely witnessed from the boy.

I see a girl, naked, filthy and terrified. I see the wretched look on her face, the goose pimples on her skin, and I feel an intense feeling of helplessness; whether it is Draco's or mine is debatable. I also see the complex, irreversible warding on the door to the dungeons that will not let me follow Lucius to Hermione Granger.

There is next to no chance of my being able to keep the Imperius Curse on a wizard as powerful as Lucius once he is out of my sight. I could threaten to kill Draco, but this is going a little too far if I want to be of any more use in this war – as it is, I have no doubt that my actions will be reported to the Dark Lord, which will only serve to heighten his suspicions of me.

'Let her out, Draco. Now,' I speak into Draco's mind. Perhaps if I can hold Lucius' attention for long enough, the boy can get her out without being detected.

My Godson he may be, but even I have to admit that Draco's cowardice is appalling, considering the years I have been his mentor. He shakes his head and before I can attempt to us the Imperius Curse on Draco, he strides out of sight, into one of the many rooms that lead off from the hallway. Coward.

I growl in frustration, release Lucius and take a swift step back, my wand still trained on him. I contemplate torturing him until he fetches the girl, or just torturing him for the hell of it, and restrain myself with difficulty.

The object of my detestation takes a step back himself and calmly straightens his collar. His grey eyes glint at me dangerously, the only outward sign that he has been at all perturbed by my visit.

"I will have someone show you out now, Severus," he says coldly. "But do come to Draco's party on Tuesday – you'll want to say goodbye to the Mudblood bitch before I hand her over to the Dark Lord, I'm sure."

I walk out before I kill him. His harsh laughter is the last thing I hear as I exit the manor that I once envied Lucius having, but now I detest with all my soul.

All this is why I am sitting here now, waiting for the rest of the Order to arrive at Grimmauld Place, so we can attempt to formulate a rescue plan. Lupin, of course, wants to go there now, fifty Aurors to back us up, and storm the place. Only the fact that Hermione Granger would be dead and eviscerated in seconds is stopping him from doing that right now. He at least practices more restraint than I.

Earlier Minerva asked me for reassurance – she wanted to know that Lucius wouldn't want to kill her favourite student. I can easily reassure her of that; now that I know Lucius is planning on handing her over to the Dark Lord, she will most definitely not be killed by Lucius. Lucius will take her to Our Lord and the Dark Lord himself will break into her mind, use her body and then return her to Hogwarts, perhaps as a head on a spike as a special and particularly thoughtful gift for Potter.

I have discovered that this is not the time for me to be truthful – Minerva can be a quick draw when she is upset, and even the calming potion I have since given to her has not stopped her from glaring daggers at me. Apparently I'm cold hearted – who would have guessed?

Then why do I feel sick to my stomach? Why is that same stomach in knots? Why do I want to curl up in my bed and never leave it again?

I am no stranger to guilt, and this is not the first time my foolishness has got someone killed. So, why is finding Hermione Granger so important to me? Is this another form of redemption I am seeking – I couldn't save Lily, but I might be able to save this girl instead?

The Order is assembled. The meeting is beginning, and despite his palpable grief, Lupin is giving this diary curious looks.

xxx

Author's Notes: Thank you all once again for your incredibly kind and thoughtful reviews. Please sir, I want some… more. Words that should get me reviews and should be said to every Snape in the land. sigh Want one of my own. And thank you to Sophi, my beta extraordinaire, who managed to get this chapter back in record time.

I have changed Draco's birthday to suit the story, just as Lucius is somehow free and living happily at home because it's much more convenient than having to try to think of a way to set him free from Azkaban to wreak havoc on the world. Review and I'll see if I can get Severus to save Hermione from him… Don't review and she may be for the chop ;o)

The second half of this chapter was strangely hellish to write, and I hope it doesn't show too much. The next one will be posted soon and will contain some vaguely violent and horrible scenes. Just a warning :oD

Did I mention that you should review? You know you want to…

xXx