"Snatchers!" Hermione's frantic voice echoed in Severus' skull as he paced the dining hall after breakfast. Thankfully, during Easter holidays, only a few students and staff were present. He stopped mid-stride. Only an expert on facial musculature could recognize the shift to panic in his eyes. He turned on his heel and swiftly made his way back to his quarters.
"Breathe, Hermione." He mentally formed the words, though unable to do so himself. "Explain."
"Harry broke the taboo. We're surrounded. I've used a Stinging Hex on him."
He could hear her quiver. "Quick thinking for a disguise." He reassured her.
"I've told them I'm Penelope Clearwater."
Imagine, his Hermione, that vapid waste of a witch? He shivered. Never. "Half-blood status. Good. Maintain your stories. Hopefully Potter and Weasley didn't go shouting their names in a blaze of Gryffindor idiocy."
"There's… there's a hairy man here that's grabbing my face." He could feel her revulsion trickle down his spine. "I know him! It's Fenrir Greyback!"
Her revulsion and fear became his own. He fought to keep thoughts of Greyback's hands trailing over the corpses of his victims from invading his connection with Hermione. "Don't let his mouth near you at all costs." Snape struggled to form the words. Childhood terrors of Lupin seeped at the corners of his mind. His breathing grew harder to control.
"…the Mudblood who is known to be travelling with Harry Potter." Entered his ears as Greyback's voice. Then Hermoine's voice, "He knows!"
He wanted desperately to tell her that everything would be all right. He wanted to hold her and brush the hair out of her eyes. He wanted to kiss her until every tear stopped falling. Until he felt whole inside once more. Instead, he was beside himself, miles away, adrift in a sea of misdirected hatred. Should he tell her to stay calm when he couldn't do the same? Should he tell her that it would all work out when he knew nothing of the sort?
"Where are they taking you?" in times of stress, only the practical would do.
"Malfoy Manor. Severus- he wants to bite me!"
"Stay strong Hermione. Tell him it would make the Dark Lord furious and cut down on his monetary reward... I am here… I'm right here with you. I'll be working on the solution from my end."
"I- I love you." Her voice was tremulous, but brave.
"And I you... Always."
The connection was cut.
"Well, Draco?" Lucius, looking worse for wear, circled the ensnared boy, "Is it? Is it Harry Potter?"
Hermione searched Draco's eyes, along with the weariness, there was something that was never there before. Was it empathy? Fear? "I can't- I can't be sure."
Lucius was about to whap his child in the back of the head from exasperation as Bellatrix Lestrange came upon the scene. "You've got him, haven't you?" She squeaked, eyeing the boy.
Lucius straightened his coat, "If this is Harry Potter, the one who shall reveal it will be me." The man was rolling back his sleeve.
"Do not touch your Dark Mark! All will perish if the Dark Lord comes now..." Bellatrix hissed. When she was advancing on Lucius, she noted something shinning from the seized possessions of the prisoners. "What is that?" Her heels clicked insanely against the marble floor. "Boy, what is this?" She directed the question at Harry, raising the sword of Godric Gryffindor. "Where did you get this?" Her eyes narrowed. The only response was silence. "Thieves! That's what you are- this was in my safe!" She began to stun the prisoners in rapid succession. Hermione felt like a speed bag, a tool, for a well-honed boxer.
"This is for your lack of respect!" Bellatrix cried out. "Nephew!" She halted and spun to face Draco. "Move the unconscious men to the courtyard, I may play with them later." Her smile curled. "Greyback, you take the prisoners down to the dungeons." As he was placing his hand on a semi-conscious Hermione, Bellatrix stopped him. "No, not her. I think the Mudblood wants to play right now."
Harry, Ron, Dean, and Griphook were shut into the dungeons in the cellar. "We've got to do something- We've just got to!" Ron squealed as soon as their captors were out of earshot.
"Calm down." Harry attempted to breathe. "Everything will be all right. I'll find a way to get us out of here."
It was then that they heard Hermione scream.
Bellatrix trailed her gnarled wand over Hermione's delicate face, "Well, my little Mudblood, care to tell me how you got my sword?"
Hermione's determined eyes locked with her captor's, "It's not yours."
"Remain calm and impassive. She dislikes dealing with dead fish." Without Bellatrix's knowledge, Severus was maintaining a connection ever since she had discovered the sword.
Rather than a curse, Bellatrix slapped her, hard enough to leave a handprint. "Everything I touch is mine. Now, you're mine too!" She cackled, pinching Hermione's raw cheek.
"Lies. You are your own." Severus assured. Although he could not deny the possessive feeling that rose in his chest. How he wished he could get the Dark Lord on his side. But, to pardon the Mudblood accomplice of Harry Potter? Impossible at this moment. No, he couldn't let Voldemort know that the trio was being held a Draco Manor. That would spell disaster for all involved as Bellatrix had said. Yet, now, due to his inaction, his love was under the wand of the cruelest witch he'd ever known. And she would not go easy. Who could go undetected to aid in her rescue? If it were him, all cover would be blown and chances of their survival afterward would be zero. No. He could deal with his death but not hers. Never hers. The rescue needed to be quick, instantaneous. A memory suddenly flashed into his mind of a smaller Hermione; a surreptitiously lifted a button on her table that read S.P.E.W... Hermione had tried to save House Elves, but a House Elf would need to save her. One without ties or house loyalty. Dobby!
"Severus, are you there? Severus?" Her voice was panicked.
"I'm here, Hermione. I'm with you. I'm acting on a plan."
"No! You can't come here! They'll kill you!"
"Foolish girl," Snape's voice was soft, almost coddling, "I'm no Gryffindor."
A tear slid down her cheek as she tried not to smile.
"Crucio!" Echoed in his ear; not nearly as deafening as Hermione's scream.
He was no stranger to the curse or its effects. Especially at the skilled hands of Bellatrix Lestrange. Yet, somehow it became more torturous. "Hermione, hold your thumb with your forefingers and count backwards with me from ten: ten, nine, eight, seven…"
"Crucio!"
"…six, five, four, three, two, one. Again!" His voice was became strained with emotion as they chanted once more.
"Hermione! Hermione!" Ron screamed from the basement. He strained against the ropes, unable to break free.
"Ron, she's strong. It will be all right." Harry assured, "We'll get her out, I promise."
"No! It will not be all right." Tears flowed freely down his freckled face. "She's being tortured up there!"
Unbeknownst to them, Luna Lovegood was also a prisoner in the basement. "She's terrible with curses. I'm sorry." The blonde revealed herself.
"Luna!" Harry remarked in awe as she danced around them, cutting their bonds with a rusty nail. "We're so glad to see you."
"Likewise. Although, I wish it were in a better place." She smiled wanly.
Hermione's screams continued above.
"There has to be a way out of here," Harry spoke to himself, frantically rummaging at the pouch around his neck for help. A piece of the mirror Sirius had given him fell to the floor. In it, Harry saw a blue eye. "Help us!" he cried, "We're in the cellar of Malfoy Manor, help us!" He didn't care whoever it was. At this point he was desperate.
"The… Sword… Is... A… Copy." Hermione felt the blood seep from her mouth between breaths. She'd never been a good liar. Hopefully her time with a certain Slytherin had made her convincing.
"Well done, Hermione." Snape's voice filled her mind with warmth against the cold, marble floor. Her bones felt like they had been ground to dust. Her fingers could do no more than twitch. Morbidly she wondered if this was how it felt to be on the slab.
"Draco!" Bellatrix ordered the shell-shocked boy, "Bring me Griphook to confirm this Mudblood's story." She turned her face in disgust to the girl on the floor, "He'll know if it's goblin-made. He'll know if your lies are as filthy as your blood."
Snape knew from past experience how words could fester longer than any wound. "You are clean, Hermione. She is the one who's impure."
"Griphook, you must tell her it's a fake. Please..." Harry implored upon hearing Bellatrix's command.
The globin gave the boy a self-serving look.
"This war affects us all. Do you really think they'll just stop at wizards? No one is safe. They think everyone is beneath them. Do you want to live your life in chains?"
The goblin's glassy eyes shifted then, in an introspection Harry deeply wished he could explore.
As Harry watched Draco take Griphook up the stairs, he felt his soul go with them. He didn't know where things would go from here. He didn't trust that his five minute talk could truly change the goblin's heart.
There was a faint crack of apparition behind him then, and Harry's green eyes grew wide in astonishment.
"Harry Potter, Dobby has come to rescue you!"