Severus had waited as long as he'd been able, the pain of his summons nearly making him lose what little had been in his stomach. Now, he sat at the long dining table trying not to show any emotion as another body hit the floor. A recent raid had brought in four of the known wand wood-gatherers on this part of England. They were exceptionally difficult to catch and even more difficult to find. It had taken months for them to be captured.

"Why does everyone seek to tell me information that I already know!" Voldemort sneered at the last wood-gather who'd been left alive. An apprentice, a young woman possibly in her mid-twenties.

Severus pursed his lips tightly, looking straight into the eyes of the woman. She was strong, though he could clearly see her quivering she had made no noise, nor shed a single tear. Her hands were held behind her back, while she sat on her knees. It was rather curious to him actually. It was only when he pressed into the surface of her thoughts did he realize that she was a mute. She had no way of answering the madman's questions.

"My Lord, perhaps...an alternative method?" Severus knew speaking now would be dangerous but he just wanted it to end. All of it. Everything. He was so tired.

Voldemort hissed in the back of his throat, slowly turning towards Snape. His wand hand twitched to correct his disobedience but his intelligence told him he had only one chance left to find the answers that he sought, "Speak then."

"She is the last, yes? Of the wood gatherers? Perhaps...she would know where to find a wandmaker." Severus didn't dare to stand and kept his voice as even as possible, "A wand maker might have the answers you seek."

"They are protected." Voldemort turned away from the girl now coming to stand center.

"Protections can be broken." Severus took a slow breath of the air filled with growing danger, "With patience."

"Patience..." Voldemort snarled the word in a low whisper. Turning away from Snape, he looked down at the girl who had intelligently lowered her head in his presence.

"My Lord. We've retrieved it." Bellatrix couldn't have walked more like a cock on the walk if she tried, the door she'd flung open dramatically hit the wall with a heavy bang making the girl on the floor jump.

Voldemort grinned turning his red narrowed eyes towards Snape, "Patience indeed."

oOo

"I can't believe we did it." Ron grinned dumbly at Harry. The energy from their success riling the both of them with renewed hope.

"I can't believe you did either. That was extremely risky." Bill sat down a plate of food in front of both of them, "But this is good. At least now we have a way forward. I'll ask around to anyone who may be willing or able to help."

"Thanks Bill, we really couldn't have done all this without your help." Harry was just so relieved that they'd made it in and out without getting caught. Being that close to Bellatrix had made his stomach fill with stone but now the worst seemed to be over. Just three more Horcuxes left and the war would finally come to an end. They still had to figure out a way to get into Hogwarts, but it was something already in the works.

"A little help here." The fireplace behind Bill flared to life and a very familiar red-head pushed his way through, "Ah! Bill, can you fetch Fleur?" Fred looked back into the fireplace as George ducked low under the mantle, a bundled girl in his arms.

"Wha-" Ron came to his feet as Bill pushed past him, his eyes wide and filled with confusion, "Who's that?"

"Someone who needs our help." George kept the girl's head tucked into his neck though she was well into the realm of being unconscious, "Found on our doorstep, quite literally."

"What's happened to her?" Harry came to his feet as well, moving to give them space to pass, "Is she...?"

"Nah, just a bit of spiked tea." George thanked them under his breath as he moved through the kitchen towards the living room.

"She was talking about a woman, either of you heard anything about a new player coming onto the field?" Fred directed his question to Bill who had retrieved Fleur from upstairs, were she'd been preparing beds for Harry and Ron.

"No, as far as I know, all of our players are as they've been."

oOo

Hermione had been walking, just walking, like a prophet in the desert. Her course unknown led only by the light of the moon across the wastes. The sound of screams echoing in her ears. The sight of wide fear filled eyes as she brought down the entrance, standing before her distorting reality. A few had managed to escape, not even bothering to attack her in their haste to avoid the fire. She had stood there—on the other side of the rubble of the collapsed entrance—smoke and charred flesh filling her lungs through the cracks that had been left behind until everything had gone silent.

Her body was beyond tired, yet still, she moved. She hadn't forgotten her original purpose for coming there and even though her heart was lost somewhere in a void, and she finally completely understood the meaning of a thousand yard stare. She had to find them. She had to complete the task set before her. She couldn't go back with so much blood on her hands without reason.

Her vision began to tilt, the darkness that had always been lingering around the edges of her vision slowly creeping in like an ink drop on a page of parchment. Her heavy feet caught on something beneath and her weak knees couldn't make the adjustment.

The world around her spiraled endlessly before everything turned cold. Fine sand filled her nose and mouth as her face pressed into the cool earth. With her head ringing from the impact, she slowly rolled onto her side, her knees coming up to her chest as she hid her face from the heavens. It was then, that the reality of all she had done came crashing down full force.

She had killed. Killed. Removed not only one life from this world, but many.

oOOo

Severus had returned to dark rooms, his body vibrating with energy from his meeting. It had taken him no time to search every possible hiding place before he'd finally remembered the mirror in his adrenaline induced haze. It had been black, but the desperate sound of a near-silent cry had told him she was alive.

She was alive and in pain.

Severus stood out over the darkened cliff side where he'd sent her. The smell of death was thick in the smoke that still wafted from below. The spells that had protected the market had fallen. Revealing the scene to his critical eye. Removing the stone from the entrance had been a minor inconvenience.

He had entered under great trepidation. A spell had lit his way through the black scorched walls, nothing had been left behind but piles of ash. No way to know just how many had perished under the cursed fire. When he'd turned his wand light up he had learned the cause of the all-encompassing inferno. A burnt outline of a phoenix shadowed in the stone as though the magical creature had flown straight into it. With nothing left to examine, he had left turning his dark eyes out over the wastes.

"Point me." A bright red line shot out of the end of his wand, a modified location spell of his own creation. It barreled off into the horizon where he lost sight of it in the darkness. A deep purse to his lips sheathed his wand.

With only a partial glimpse down, he took a small run and jumped off the edge of the cliff, his body taking full flight in the shape of a large Golden Eagle. His wings were easily the length of his entire frame, his body at least half. His sharp golden eyes followed the fading light with ease, the ground below a clear easily defined grey mass.

He swooped low, the light having faded now, relying on his sharp eyes and keen senses to detect any life. He didn't even know if she'd still be in the area, but he was at least traveling in the proper direction.

The speed at which he moved and assessed was better than any amount of tracking a normal wizard would have capable off. Apparating, re-casting, apparating, re-casting; exceptionally exhausting. No, his animagus could make quicker work of finding her even if she'd apparated.

His flight took him to the southern border, at speeds only a creature of his transformation could create. He'd flown for less than twenty minutes befor his eyes spotted something unusual sitting just quarter mile from the treeline. It was still but definitely big. As he neared it, the figure became clear and he began his dive.

He'd found her.

Severus landed mid-stride, his Eagle features transforming back into his normal hard angled face. He knelt down beside her chilled body, his hand taking a firm hold of her arm before he pulled her onto her back. She unrolled heavily, her arm that he'd taken hold of hitting the dirt limply. Her head remained turned away from him but he could see her chest rising. Sleeping or unconscious, he couldn't be certain but it didn't matter to him. He was there to take her home.

His body made no protest to her added weight, her head hanging over the back of his arm as he turned on the spot, taking them back to Hogwarts. With the privilege afforded to him by a title he'd never wished to bear, he arrived in the center of his office. A few strides and he was back into the safety of his rooms, without the weight of all those who came before him bearing their judgment.

oOo

"Shh...it's okay now." Fleur smiled softly helping the girl who had been shaking like a leaf in a rainstorm since she'd come to be in their house. She'd been working on healing the various cuts and bruises the girl had on nearly every part of her body. Having taken her to the bathroom for privacy. She hadn't urged her to speak nor asked her any questions as she worked.

Amelia was doing her best to stay still, but with every layer of worn clothing the French woman removed, the more vulnerable she felt. Her arms had come up to wrap around her bare chest as she worked on her back. It was well into the night now and though she was exceptionally exhausted she was too afraid to close her eyes.

"Z'ere now, iz zat better?" Fleur gave the girl another gentle smile even though she couldn't see it and gently pulled up a dressing gown over the girls curled shoulders, "Come you can stay with me, I doubt very much you wish to be alone." Fleur knew the signs of trauma, as a trained mediwitch she could infer just what sort of things the girl had been through. Knew what she needed.

Amelia gratefully wrapped the gown around her frame when she felt the rest of her clothes vanish beneath. Her knees snapped together on instinct and she couldn't stop herself from trying to curl up.

"I have zome clothes in ze other room, you can dress. Come, come." Fleur was gentle when she slipped her fingers around Amelia's arm, pulling her slowly to her feet, "Zat's it. Nice and slow." Fleur offered her another kind smile, one to which was not returned, and guided her towards the guest room where she'd made a space for her. The boys could sleep together downstairs, a unilateral decision that Bill had supported her on.

Amelia nodded hesitantly as she walked the soft floors leading to the room. Her eyes looked up through her freshly cleaned hair and took in the modest room. Two small beds sat center, a closet, and dresser on the one end with a window on the other. It felt safe.

Downstairs the men had taken to the kitchen, speaking in low tones about all that had happened that day over a cup of now lukewarm tea. Harry and Ron had shared first before they'd all turned their attention to the twins.

"She said someone had been with her, another woman. Looked like a demon." George's normal playful nature had completely gone, his eyes focused and hard, "Said this woman killed her captor in cold blood without warning."

"Do you think this person is on our side or?"

"Don't know." Fred shook his head rubbing his chin, "Possibly? I mean she did bring the girl to us, if she had her own agenda why would she have let her go at all?

"Maybe she's a spy?" Ron looked to Harry for support but found him deep in thought.

"A spy? She can hardly walk. What could she possibly spy on?"

"You don't have to be able to walk to hear." Bill clicked his jaw idly before leaning his arms on the table, "We can't dismiss the possibility. Not in times like this. We'll keep her here but we'll make sure she stays upstairs and out of earshot of anything important."

"Harry?" Ron lightly touched his friend's shoulder seemingly snapping him out of his headspace.

"Huh? Oh...Something's bothering me a little. Ron, didn't you mention seeing a cloaked woman at the market? A woman who felt familiar?"

"Yeah, but...she disappeared I didn't see her but for only a moment."

"No, but I saw her on our way out, with another. Possibly Amelia." Harry looked over at the elder red-heads, "What if this new person is following us? Trying to find us? It wouldn't be the first time someone had tried."

"But why would they make a detour to save someone's life?"

"That's what I can't figure out."

oOo

An impossibly cold hand ran over the bottom of Hermione's jaw, pushing back the matted hair from her face and lightly scraping against the metal collar that held her aloft. Her arms were hung loosely over her head, her shoulders aching painfully from the angle. The bar that held her ankles apart pressed hard into her bum as she sat on her knees on the cold earth.

The hand was almost kind, in a sadistic sort of way. Lightly tracing the lines of malnutrition over her cheeks and around her eyes. When it slipped lower, it tilted her heavy head up where it cradled the back of her head in its wide palm. The hope of relief was short-lived, the kindness they had shown her ripped away by the tight grip the fingers took on her hair, forcing her chin higher, parting her broken lips in a sharp gasp.

Sweaty lips pressed against her own, her first greeting from the man with the steel hand. A bitter taste filled her mouth as his tongue pushed its way through her teeth, tasting the blood that had settled into her mouth. A sharp cough left her throat when he pulled back, the toe of his boot pressing against her knees as he moved closer.

He smelled like rancid flesh and decaying earth. A very signature smell that would haunt her coming days and nights. When her body was laid back, the chain that had been holding her wrists loosened to allow her to bend backward, she found her body arched in a most unnatural position. Her stomach fluttered from the exploring fingers that split her shirt for their path.

His lips trailed across her breastbone in a mockery of a lover's caress, his tongue tasting the salt of her flesh. Her head fell back to the dirt unable to hold up the weight of the collar. Her teeth ground tightly when his teeth took hold of her breast. Her body burned as she finally realized his sour taste had been his own mixed with the potion they'd been feeding her.

Her legs were drawn from beneath her hips with a slow dragging pull. Making a pained noise vibrate her chest. Her stomach sunk further when his cheek pressed against her belly button, the feeling of his breath as he inhaled her scent. His hands, one warm, one cold, ran down her shaking legs as they slowly and cautiously uncurled. The skirt they had dressed her in before his coming bunched up at her waist, cushioning the pain in her lower back and tailbone.

Her body shook rather violently when he pushed her knees apart, releasing one of the shackles on her ankle to do so. His fingers like a spider's walk along her inner thigh before lightly caressing her folds. She wanted to be sick, wanted to scream, to fight, but there was nothing to be done. The chain that held her arms over her head went taunt, keeping her from fleeing even if she managed to kick out.

The hands pulled her legs wider, the trail of his tongue sending goosebumps along her thigh as it traced its way down the wired muscle. When its heat came to her core she wanted to crawl into a hole, to disappear from the earth. Her body would not allow her such dignity as it rose as if wanting its vile touch. His tongue met with her core igniting the poison fire in her blood making her want to scream for redemption.

He moved then, crawling up with her taste on his lips and pressed them hard into her own silently begging for him to stop. His tongue assaulted her senses mixed with too many flavors. Of pleasure, of pain. Bile burned her throat as he held her open, lining himself up with her maidenhood. Then, it was gone. Like it had never existed at all.

His hands violated her chest while his thrusts pressed the small stones through her meager clothing. Her head trapped between her arms unable to turn away, to hide her shame. Tears of blood coated her cheeks as they ran down without barrier into the ground below.

It took minutes yet hours long. Her world spinning in an impossible array of colors hidden inside the darkness that had become her world. She could feel his pleasure leaving her body as he did. Her jaw trembled as she took in the stale air. Tears choked her throat that betrayed her pain with a moan she could not hear. Then, a new anguish tore through her world with a brightness that could rival the sun, tearing her body in two as the stone dragon she had come to know so well was forced inside her, for the first time.

Hermione woke with a choked gasp, her hands coming up to claw at her neck to try and release the tightness that had taken hold of her throat. The world around her was dimly lit and her vision opened like going through a tunnel at high speed. Her body rocked as her nails left red tracks on her skin and her brain slowly began to turn.

Warm soft sheets registered as her hands came down. Her arms were bare and cleaned, and her head turned down to see that she was wearing nothing but her undershirt. A black tank top stolen from the professor, it clung tightly to her slightly sweaty frame. Her legs were bare, leaving her only in her knickers under the blankets.

A small suppressed cough and a shift at her right turned her head and her entire body completely relaxed. She was home. He had come to take her home. Her eyes turned up towards the top of the canopy. Did he know what she'd done? How much blood was now on her hands?

Her head turned down to look at her hands, cleaned of all their sins. Her brow furrowed tightly as she opened and closed her fingers looking for any trace of what she'd done. Had it been a dream? Another nightmare? No...there just in the bed of her thumbnail, a small brownish hue. It was real, as real as the world she had come to know.

Her eyes closed as she tried to still her racing heart. How simple it had been just months before. How small her world had been. Painful yes, but predictable. Another slow breath left her throat and her nails dug into her palm. Her head turned towards the chair sat by the fireplace, her jacket, cloak, and belt sitting over the arm. The shine of the dagger catching in the dying fire.

Did he know? Did he believe the blood to have been hers? Is that why she had been put to bed without so many clothes? Had he searched for injury and found none? Had he begun to think about what other possible reason for having had blood on her? Had he checked her blade?

Her head turned down to the man still sleeping beside her, her eyes widening just a fraction at the sight before her. So many nights they had slept together, side by side but never had they slept in such lack of dress. His back, which was laid bare to her now, glowed with the soft light around them. His dark hair rested just below his shoulders, his arms pulled up under his pillow. The blanket that had been over them both was now pulled down to his waist from her movement.

She had seen it before of course, in their shared bath and other times. Yet there he was now, so completely vulnerable as though he didn't know the atrocities she had committed. She turned on her hip slowly, stretching out her hand to lightly glide over his bicep. The action caused the muscle to twitch and he pulled his arm against his side before letting out a heavy sigh.

Her wandering hand didn't stop, rising higher to lightly brush like a baby's breath against the tails of his hair before running down the dip of his spine. It was almost surreal to her. To find herself sitting so safely beside a man who had taken her from the pits of hell only for her to willingly throw herself back into the flames. How she had betrayed him.