Disclaimer: I wish I owned the characters, but alas they belong to another!

Note: Hi, it's been a while since I added to this story. Please know that the ideas are there, sometimes it's just hard to get them out in a timely manner. I hope you enjoy this chapter, the next two will be difficult ones both from the writing perspective and the emotional! Reviews are always welcome!

Chapter 4: The Devil's Pawn

Hermione tried hard to suppress the wriggling of her body as she stood alone in the study of Severus Snape, waiting for his arrival. She was not wriggling out of excitement or anticipation, but rather out of nervousness and fear. Not one moment of sleep had graced her that night after she left her Master's bathtub both dumbfounded and confused. He had seemed more amused than angry, more aroused than furious and she had no idea what would happen next. All that she could say was that Maddie had given her an almost muggle like school uniform with a black sweater vest, black pleated skirt, white top and some long flowing black robes with his insignia on it. She didn't know if she was going to be punished or even rewarded for what had happened the night before. While it would be easy to make the assumption that she might be used to feeling powerless, the fact that she could not anticipate what the consequences of her actions would be, scared her.

At 5am on the dot he stormed into the study, taking some papers from his desk and stopping to inspect her as one would their own private guard. His cut hand was not bandaged or stitched, all that remain of the cut was a thin pink line on his white flawless skin, almost completely healed up. If she had been less in control of her wits she could have almost said last night had been a dream, her true desires bleeding between her imagination and reality. But no, the faint cut on his hand, healed by some salve or potion was proof that she had done what she had done, failed and was still here.

Satisfied that she was dressed appropriately he motioned her to follow him out the main entrance of the study, down the huge staircase of the manor house and outside to his waiting carriage. They said nothing, their steps the only sounds on this cold dark morning. Hermione hated sitting across from him in the confines of the small carriage. It gave him the opportunity to observe her close up, to have his eyes roll over her face and body ...and every opportunity could lead to detection. Keeping her eyes down and her arms wrapped around her body defensively she looked out the window, pretending to be anywhere but there.

It was all Severus could do not to crack a smile as he observed her unapologetically. She was clearly uncomfortable under his gaze and he wondered to himself if she felt remorse or exhilaration from the events of last night. He, personally, had slept well after he had tended to his hand. He also hadn't had an erection quite like that in recent memory. While it did feel like he was being untrue to Hermione's memory, he had to slowly face the practicality that while she was most likely dead, he was still very much alive. There was something about last night that had brought him to life, her determination her execution...her boldness. Erica's way was so similar to Hermione that he couldn't help but wonder, even now as the morning dawn kissed her face, if she was 'Her'.

Something certainly didn't check out with Miss Simmons to say the least. He couldn't put his finger on whether it was her story, or her exceptional talent with magic versus her grades in school or something else. Even the way she sat now, uncomfortable and closed off to him showed him that she had something to hide, something worth killing him for. As easy as it would be to look into her mind, plunder it for all its secrets, and reap the benefits of it's deepest darkest secrets, he had made a choice not to. He did truly hope that she had been an Order member as she had claimed last night, that she did work for the side he had so miserably failed. Deep down, if she had indeed been an Order member, it would have been impossible for her not to have known Hermione, to have interacted with her in some way. In this way it was his own fear that protected Erica's mind from his unceremonious probing. The fear of reaping her memories and finding some interaction with the woman he had fallen for so desperately, that it would be more recent and fresher than his own tattered and fading memories of her. The fear of seeing her again kept him at bay. It kept him, like a scared and insecure child, away from what she might be thinking. Away from a sorrow that would have broken him.

The quick change in her demeanor signaled to Severus that they had almost arrived at their destination, Resocialization Camp 5. There were many camps scattered across the tight bit of space that Voldemort so eagerly guarded against the outside world. Most of them were small, perhaps no more than one hundred people there and some guards, but Camp 5 had thousands. Even more, if those held in Camp 5 weren't doing hard labor, they were being prepared for extermination. There was no nice way to put it and it was clear that it was communicated to the outside wizarding world in much the same way as it was the inner circle of Death Eathers he inhabited, that it was not a place you wanted to go. It was not a place you wanted to see. If you did the chances were small you would ever leave.

The site of the monumental structure and the fences that surrounded it made Hermione grip at the velvet upholstery of the carriage. She began to shake and hyperventilate. After all this time with Snape she had succeeded in keeping her emotions in check, her street instincts neatly tied up in a compact box, away from his sight and suspicion. This changed everything, it was as if she had been pulled from the streets only moments before. The fear and the utter panic that swept through her tiny body was almost incapacitating. 'I'll go there and I'll never come out' she kept repeating to herself in her head over and over again.

It was only when she felt the distinct pain in her neck that came with being shook to one's senses did she realize what was happening. His deep black eyes were as dark as coal and staring right into hers. Severus Snape was gripping her by the shoulders, his fingers cutting through the thick fabric of her cloak. "Look at me!" His voice was only just above a whisper.

Her eyes were brown and large, the worry lines in her brow were visible. Severus knew she was afraid, knew that she had probably spent most of her sad post-Order existence dreading a place like this. Once he was sure he had her full attention he began, "You keep it together, do you hear me?" He cocked his head to the side, as if by tipping it he would be able to discern whether she was processing his words. "We cannot show weakness in there. Am I clear?"

There was an urgency in his voice that he was trying to cover, but Hermione picked up on it 'Why is he afraid of this place?' she wondered to herself. His eyes held her a moment longer and she turned away, remembering he could move into her mind without her even knowing.

Severus settled back into his seat and turned his head out the window. He would need her to deliver today, he would need her to show him what she was made of. Anything to the contrary would put his plan, and Her legacy at risk.

The camp was a dark and lonely place. A place even more hopeless than the burned out ruins of London, where Hermione had scraped together an existence not fit for an animal. Resocialization Camp 5 was not fit for anything living, much less anything that valued its heart beat. It kept Hermione constantly on edge as she followed Severus Snape around the facility, parchment and quill out in the wizard way, floating about her, taking notes on the facility. They had no sooner been greeted at the entrance of the camp then whisked away inside its deepest darkest bowels.

"Take notes Miss Simmons." Had been her only instructions as she scuttled behind her Master, doing her best to keep up with his long strides.

The man showing them around was unknown to her, so not in the main inner circle of Death Eaters, yet he enjoyed his power over those less fortunate than himself. She despised that, it made it difficult not to glare at him as they made their way around the dilapidated old building. Things had to be done, parts of the building maintained, pieces totally replaced. The whole thing seemed to be leading to something, Hermione couldn't put her finger on it but it was clearly not a maintenance inspection they were doing. It was almost like he was pleading with her expressionless Master, building a case for a topic that she was not briefed on.

Passing the holding cells Hermione jumped when some crazy prisoners ran against the bars, making a loud clanging noise. Before she could even make a second sound after screaming he was there, her dark companion pressing her behind him with one hand and slitting the throat of the main offender with the other. The block went silent as the man lay gurgling at the edge of his cell, his blood flowing onto the walkway where they now stood. Snape looked down at the blood with a deep disgust, as if somebody had smeared shit in the walkway, waited for the man to die, then moved on - the men surrounding him following closely.

Shaking the shock off her face and doing her best to keep up Hermione did her best to focus on the what notes she was taking. That could have been her last night, she could have met the same fate as that man, driven crazy by false imprisonment. 'Somehow he sees it fit to let me live.' she thought to herself as they made it to the Warden's office.

Hermione stood meekly at the side of her protector, looking down at the floor but trying her best to observe things around her. The faces of her, Ron and Harry had been plastered all over the city for years, she didn't want her whole existence to rest on the chance that some guy could just pick her out from a picture. So she chose not to look at anybody, hoping they would not even notice she was there. The Warden of the camp walked out from his office, a smug look on his face, walking right past Hermione and right to Severus Snape. He was uncomfortably close to her former professor, and an air of dissent.

It made her break her staring match with the floor to get a better look, 'They want to kill each other.' Was the only thing that kept running through her mind. 'Not all is as happy in this dark paradise as it might appear.'

"Snape." The Warden began, his voice dripping with disgust just at the pronunciation of his name. "I'm so glad you could take time out of your busy schedule to aid us in this matter." The tension between the two was thick, the Warden not wanting to show weakness in front of his men, Severus maintaining his cool menacing air of control. It was clear to Hermione that this pair had never gotten along.

"Well when you fuck things up as often as you do Wormgood, it becomes a matter of urgency, not a matter of courtesy." Her Master's voice was low and deep, almost making a rumbling in her chest as he spoke. Hermione had been convinced that he had hated her while she was in his classes, but it was clear now what real hate sounded like when it passed the lips.

She felt as though the staring match would never end when Severus spoke first, "Take me to the place where the incident happened."

Without a word they were again afoot in the large, dark and miserable place where Voldemort kept enemies of the state. A prison for those who did not deserve to be imprisoned, a place where the life was sucked, beaten and worked out of you. A place where countless friends and comrades were being held. Hermione didn't recognize anybody from her trip around, but then how could she? There were thousands there, all underfed masses of bones, much like she was when she was taken into her Master's charge.

It was not long before they came down into a cellar where four men were being held, naked, on their knees with their hands tied behind their backs. It only took a moment for her to realize they were guards and not inmates, as amount of meat on their bones indicated regular meals. They were gagged and looked at the entourage as they walked it, then suddenly began all at once to plead through bound bodies and gagged mouths. They were all afraid for their lives, not wanting them to be taken away too soon. Aside from this where was a massive hole blown through the weakened walls of the cellar, leading to what Hermione could only guess was freedom.

Not noticing the muffled screams of the men Severus turned to his enemy and continued, "How many escaped?" He began to inspect the edge of the blast, as if he were looking for something more.

"Fifty. They always seem to escape when your men are on duty." Came the acid response of Wormgood, his eyes gesturing over to two of the men on the right. Hermione continued taking notes and studied the men a little closer. It took her a second good look to place the face of one of the men, he'd been a Ravenclaw a year ahead of her. Always a pleasant person, who she had shared some classes with and was never treated poorly by. It seemed exceptionally implausible that he would be pulled into such a job.

Hermione didn't have time to think too long on this point, "Considering this always seems to happen when your men take over, I find it hard to believe that the fault lies with them." Severus looked at the other two men in the opposite corner.

Now it was clear what was going on between the men, a feud of power and survival. The Dark Lord loved to keep his inner circle guessing with regard to their position, status and whether they would live another day. This kind of hatred and jealousy came from rewarding that kind of behavior, for rewarding chaos and getting ahead at all costs. Hermione felt sick to her stomach at the thought.

"I will not judge these men now without looking at the patterns of these escapes." Severus began as he disengaged his eyes from the Warden and began to circle the room. "It's unclear who is responsible for helping our prisoners escape. It could be one set of guards…" the men being held shivered at the thought and due to the cold dampness of the room, "...it could be both working together." He waited for the tension to build in the room before continuing. "As neither you nor I can make this judgement, I have brought a third party to investigate."

The moment the words hit the ears of the men in the room they all turned to Hermione, the meek short haired young woman, eyes cast down and quill scratching away on a scroll that was, by now, several feet in length. Her cheeks reddened knowing that now all eyes were on her, the eyes of men she had been trying to avoid all morning, men she despised and would have rather seen dead.

"This girl is going to make a judgement on my men?" came the shrill rebuttal of the Warden, a short blondish man with angry black eyes.

Hermione's blood was racing, her heart pounding, her mind playing out all the scenarios she could transpire. She could feel a thin line of sweat beading up on her forehead as her Master jumped in. "You think this lot is any better?" Severus snorted, "it's clear your leadership is lacking in more areas than I thought."

The men's eyes locked angrily, as if sparks would fly from their wands at any moment, that was when it all came to her. "Well I can't make a judgement before I see the guard logs." It came out as a squeak, not really a sentence. But it was enough to disperse the tension and focus all eyes on her.

She started again, this time looking Wormgood in the eye and putting on her best bossy tone, "I said, I'll need the guard's logs and all supporting documentation if I am to make a proper judgement on the situation."

As she began to speak Severus was immediately jolted out of the moment, taking a step back from the situation in his mind. He could not have been more pleased by what was going on, to see his little ward taking control of the situation, taking on a job he wanted her to do with little hesitation. The situation with his Warden had deteriorated over the last several months and he knew why. The men Severus had hired were more disposed to aiding the inmates in finding freedom than in torturing and maiming them. It had taken years of planning and careful consideration to cover everything up, make it look coincidental and give these men the opportunity to act on their hearts. He knew his two men were guilty, he knew they should be killed for their transgressions. Severus shook his head gently, this was a test, a test to see what she would do to get what she wanted, what he wanted…

"If you think for one fucking second I'm going to give this girl the keys to my…" Wormgood started, pointing at Hermione.

"You will give the keys to your office and to the records archives, or I will be forced to discipline you." There was no emotion in Severus' voice as he laid out his threat. He didn't need it, the reaction of the men around him said it all, pure fear.

Choking down his words and grumbling to himself, the Warden pulled a ring of keys from his belt and reluctantly lead them upstairs to his office, across from which was the vast room that held the archives for Resocialization Camp 5.

There was a flash in the girl's eyes that Severus had rarely seen. He wondered to himself what that could possible mean, hoping she was going to do what he wanted her to do. If she were smart, and he had no doubt of that, she would read through the archives to understand who was imprisoned there, who was important to her cause, where they were and the plan of the building. She was the devil's pawn, put in a position that could either further his personal aspirations or tear them all down with one judgement. Severus subconsciously put his hand on his breast pocket, tapping the picture of Her, then watched young Erica go into the archives.

"You have five hours." Severus warned, not wanting to waste any more time than necessary. Everything had been so well planned, his choreography executed far better than he could have imagined. Yet she was a wild card, a sliver of uncertainty that could make or break his plan. He could only hope, as the door closed behind her, that she would choose to unwittingly take part in his plan. A plan that had been brewing in his mind since the day his friends were executed, since he slowly began to realize that he might never see his beloved Hermione again.

'Give me the strength.' He pleaded with the picture resting on his heart. 'Give me the chance to make it right.'