A/N: A round of applause, if you please, for my wonderful beta, anogete. Thanks also to my wonderful readers and reviewers who give me the motivation to press on!
Obligatory: None of these things belong to me; they all belong to JKR. I just like to have a bit of fun with them, and no profit is desired.
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"Miss Granger, would you please be so kind as to grade these first year essays for me? I simply cannot face them, and, sadly, as my apprentice, it falls to you to do the dirty work." Professor Caveo eyed Hermione with something akin to amusement.
Hermione smiled indulgently and took the stack of parchments from him. "Methods of Extraction and Uses of Bubotuber Pus?" She laughed. "Oh dear, what did the little ones do to deserve this?"
"Am I that transparent?" He held up his hand. "No, don't answer that. I suppose that I am. I got frustrated with them for being completely…"
"Insufferable?" Hermione offered. At his furrowing brow, she explained, "It's okay, the older students are used to being set essays for our insufferability."
"Good Merlin, certainly I've not been compared to Snape, have I?" Caveo snatched a parchment from the top of Hermione's pile and eyed it carefully.
"Not that I've heard, sir," she answered playfully.
"Thank the gods for that." He considered the parchment for a moment.
Hermione hesitated, but decided that there was no harm in asking the question that had been burning in her mind for quite some time. "Sir, did you know Professor Snape well? I know you must have known him somewhat."
Caveo looked up at her with an unreadable expression before laying the parchment back on the desk between them and settling back into his seat. "Yes, I did. I knew him very well, actually. Our families were… friendly, and though he was a few years older than I, we would kick around potion theories from time to time. Well, he would kick them around, and I would listen." He noticed Hermione's blushed cheeks. "Is that really what you want to know, I wonder?"
She laughed nervously. "I don't know, I suppose I'm not really sure what I want to know. He's just such an enigma to me with his double and triple life. Perhaps more lives than that, for all that I know."
"And so he was, even in his youth. Do you remember the conversation you and I had about what makes some potions dark?" Hermione nodded. "Severus was always conflicted about the question of dark potions and dark magic. He believed, as many of our friends did, that the dark was simply the other half of the light. For him, the two were not at odds; they simply made up the seamless whole that makes our world possible."
"Like the pagan belief that things can be and are both at the same time?" Hermione's inquisitive nature got the best of her and she couldn't stop the question from escaping her lips.
"Quite," Caveo replied with a smirk. "It is not a belief shared by many witches and wizards you have met, and thus he was always a theoretical outcast in the mainstream of our world. Beyond that, I cannot hope to explain to you the enigma that is, and will always be, Severus Snape." He watched as Hermione studied her hands with a look of consternation on her face. "Well, it is getting late, so I think that you should retire."
"I'll have these essays back as soon as possible, sir." Hermione began gathering the parchments and stuffing them into her bag.
"No rush, Miss Granger. I am sure that the students are not anxious to receive your rather demanding marks." Caveo leaned back in his chair and smiled.
"I have only been assisting for a few weeks, and already they find me demanding?" Hermione stared back at him in confused awe.
"It is a good sign for your future as an instructor. They must learn that you are their superior, not their friend."
"I am a Gryffindor, sir. It is possible for us to be both." She grinned back at him as she headed for the door.
"I suppose that only experience will show you otherwise. Goodnight." He inclined his head at Hermione in dismissal, and she returned to her rooms to go to sleep.
The first few weeks since she sat for her N.E.W.T. exams and became a proper apprentice were more enjoyable than Hermione had expected. Though she was still quite busy with all of her work, in addition to her studies of advanced magic, she found that she loved working with potions and helping out the younger students in classes.
She was haunted every night by her dreams, however, and she became more and more resigned to having them. Whatever Dumbledore was trying to tell her about someone knowing something, and Snape not knowing something, and that she needed to do something about Harry, it was not becoming any clearer as the nights went on. All she knew was that she needed to find a way to help Harry, and that if there was some small chance that Snape wasn't as evil as people thought, he might be the key to helping her. Her stomach lurched every time her mind wandered in that direction. Was even her body so opposed to the idea that Snape wasn't just some cold-blooded murderer and Death Eater?
The night before everyone was set to leave for holiday break, Hermione sat with Ron and Harry around the fire in the Gryffindor common room. The boys were leaving on the train to spend the holiday at the Burrow, and Hermione was going to Apparate there after she had finished some work with Professor Caveo.
It felt good to be sitting there with her friends for once, like they had when things were simpler. Still, it was hard to ignore that things had changed.
"I don't understand why you have to stay here alone with him, Hermione. He's been working you to death as it is. Don't you deserve a break?" Ron asked for what seemed like the hundredth time that week.
"I am an apprentice now, Ron. I have a lot of responsibilities, and, as an apprentice, if Professor Caveo tells me that he needs my help, it is my obligation and duty to help him!"
"Give it a rest, Ron, honestly." Harry rolled his eyes and poked his wand towards the fire, causing the flames to leap about more earnestly. "There are other things to worry about right now."
"Have you given any thought to where the last you-know-what could be?" Hermione lowered her voice and glanced around the room to see if anyone was listening.
"Loads. I just can't work it out." Harry rubbed at his scar. "He's going to make a move at some point, though, I can feel it. If I can't destroy the last one by then, we'll all still be forever at his mercy."
"Have you talked to Remus about it? Maybe he would have some ideas." Hermione watched Harry's eyes as they sparked red along with the flames in the fireplace.
"We're going to talk at the Burrow some more." Harry didn't say more, and it was clear that he was not keen on discussing the situation.
"Speaking of the Burrow, I've got to pack!" Ron exclaimed, jumping from his spot on the floor.
"I thought you never packed until the last minute the morning you're set to leave?" Hermione smiled openly at her friend.
In a rare return to their old days as friends, Ron smiled back. "I'm trying to be more efficient in me old age. Isn't that what you always wanted?"
Hermione ignored the implication that Ron was working on his efficiency in an effort to please her. "Well, it's good to see you taking my advice for once!"
"Right. Goodnight, you two. I'll see you in the morning."
"Hang on, Ron, I'm coming with you." Harry stood up as well. "Goodnight, Hermione."
"Goodnight, boys."
Slowly, Hermione walked out of Gryffindor Tower and back to her rooms in the dungeons, Harry's words laying heavy on her mind. If he did possess the final Horcrux in his head, it would have to be removed before whatever the final confrontation with Voldermort was. If it wasn't, she feared that the bit of soul in the scar would simply take over Harry's body, and he would be reborn as Voldemort Part Deux. That would put Hermione and so many others in the position of being forced to kill their own friend.
As she drifted into sleep, her dreams were once again filled with the staircase and Dumbledore. Hermione was shocked, however, when Dumbledore rose from the ground, grabbed her by the shoulders, and whispered, "Beware, Miss Granger. They know." He nodded towards the other Death Eaters on the stairs. "He knows not what he does." He nodded towards Snape. "It's all in his head!" He glanced over at where Harry stood, invisible. Dumbledore shook her hard again. "Beware, Miss Granger. They're coming!"
"Who's coming?" she gasped into the darkness of her room.
To her amazement, she was answered, but the reply was simply a whispered, "Stupefy."
--
"Well, what a pleasant surprise!" came a voice from the recesses of Hermione's consciousness. The voice was familiar, yet the unbearable pain in her head and stomach were not. "Look, everyone, we've got a visitor."
Hermione would know that voice anywhere. Malfoy.
Slowly, she tried to shake herself into reality. Surely she was just having another very bad dream, right? After all, who could possibly come into her room unnoticed in the middle of the night and Stun her?
However, the cold, hard floor beneath Hermione suggested to her more rational side that she was not in bed, dreaming. She was recovering from a Stunner, and she was on a very cold, hard floor. And Malfoy was there.
"Oh, wake up, Granger. We've got to do without Enervates around here, so you have to shake it off!" came Malfoy's voice again.
"Piss…off…" Hermione gasped as she attempted to get her vision to cooperate.
"She's going to live, friends! Have no fear!" Hermione felt hands come under her armpits that gently dragged her across the floor and propped her up against a wall. Slowly, her vision went from black to slightly fuzzy.
"Where am I?" she muttered as she took in the dismal sight with her foggy eyes.
"The DA cordially welcomes you to The Cell, Granger."
Hermione looked up to see Draco and several other teenagers looking back at her, all in various states of injury and filth. "The DA?"
"Draco's Army," came Draco's even reply.
"How original," Hermione muttered, rubbing her eyes until she could see clearly. She was in a small room with no furniture, no windows, and no door. She didn't need anyone to tell her that this clearly was a cell, but where it was, she couldn't say. "So what, you've kidnapped me, and now you're going to torture and kill me?"
"Well, you have been kidnapped, and you may be tortured and killed, but I am your fellow captive, not your captor." Draco held up a hand to the people behind him, and they relaxed into seated positions on the floor.
"What are you playing at?" Hermione's expression was a mixed one of pain and anger.
"I'm not playing at anything. This is the Death Eater Manor, and you, me, and this lot are all prisoners. And, believe me, Azkaban is probably a cakewalk compared to this."
"It's a trick. You're pretending so that you can get information out of me." Hermione narrowed her eyes at Draco, though she noticed his torn robes were speckled with blood, one of his eyes was blackened from what looked like a punch, and there was a faint boot print on his throat.
"This is no trick, I assure you. But we'll get to all of that if we have time before one of us is killed. First, however, let me make some introductions!" Draco stood up and moved behind the ragged group facing Hermione. He placed his hand on top of the head of a raven-haired girl and stated, "This is Lieutenant Elizabeth Harrup."
"Pleased to meet you, Miss," answered Elizabeth, nodding at Hermione.
Draco moved onto the next girl, who had clearly been the victim of a crude Scalping Hex. "This is Lieutenant Jane Martin."
"Your servant, Miss." Jane smiled slightly.
Draco placed his hand on the shoulder of a young blond man sitting next to Jane. "This is Captain Andrew Harrison."
"No relation to George, Miss," Andrew added sheepishly.
Draco patted Andrew lightly on the back before moving onto the next girl. "This lass is Major Angelica Hughes."
Angelica raked a shaky hand through her short, dirty blond hair. "Hullo."
"And, finally," Draco announced before placing both his hands on the shoulders of an emaciated redhead, "I am pleased to introduce Colonel Jeffrey Lowsley."
"Good to have a new recruit, Miss." Jeffrey reached out to shake Hermione's hand. She accepted the gesture, though she was bewildered.
"So, I suppose that makes you the General, Malfoy?" she asked, though her voice had lost its edge.
"That's right, Granger. But we don't pay much mind to rank around here. After all, we all have a common cause, so we all have to work together." He looked back at his army with what looked like pride. "What do you say, kids, should we make this one a Cadet?" The others nodded enthusiastically. "Don't worry, Granger, you'll make Lieutenant after your first beating."
"You beat your cadets?" she asked incredulously.
"Me?" he replied with shock. "Never! I mean the enemy. We're prisoners of war of the DEA. The Death Eater Army. It is our solemn duty to fight against them for freedom. Well, for our freedom, mostly." He sat back down on the ground.
"How were you captured, Cadet Granger?" Angelica asked with concern.
Hermione found the situation almost laughable. Here she was, imprisoned at the Death Eater Manor, with Malfoy and five other prisoners, all of whom were clearly losing their minds. It very nearly made her forget how completely terrified she was. "I don't quite know. Last I remember, I was in my bed at Hogwarts, and then I woke up here."
"Who brought her in, General? Did you see?" Jeffrey asked.
"It was a masked baddie, so it couldn't have been Lucius, Snape, or the Lestranges," Draco replied thoughtfully.
"Masked baddie?" Hermione was growing more confused by the moment.
"Yeah, some of the enemy wear their masks, so we don't know who they are." Elizabeth fingered a bruise on her wrist.
"Alright, now, listen, Cadet Granger, we need to tell you some things before we're interrupted by the enemy. When anyone from the DEA is here, we just lay low. They don't know that we've organized ourselves. They're dangerous, Cadet, and you must not resist them. They will do unspeakable things to you, but you must be brave. Do you understand?"
"Why are you being so nice to me, Draco? I'm just a Mudblood, after all." Hermione felt the reality of her situation settling over her.
"And Jane is a Squib, but we don't hold it against her." He smiled wickedly at Hermione's disbelieving scoff. "Listen, I have been a complete shit, I know that, and, let's be honest, I'm still a complete shit. But right now, we have a common purpose, which is to get out of this hell hole alive. When we do, we can replay our usual pureblood versus Mudblood games. Now, however, we have to fight."
"How are we fighting by not resisting?"
Before Hermione could get an answer to her question, one of the walls facing her suddenly turned into bars with an iron door on the other side of them. Everyone in The Cell abruptly began pretending that they had not been speaking to each other at all, and were simply staring at the floor. From the door, she could hear a cackle she knew could only belong to one person.
"Ah, Auntie Bellatrix, to what do we owe the honor of this visit?" Draco drawled with disgust.
"Shut up, Draco. I've come for the Mudblood." Bellatrix whipped out her wand.
"Which one?" Draco looked around at the non-responsive group behind him.
"I told you to shut up. Incarcerous." Bellatrix's spell caused everyone in The Cell to be bound by some invisible force, save Hermione, who looked up at the evil witch with horror. "I've come to make you more presentable, Mudblood."
Before Hermione could spit at Bellatrix, an Imperius Curse was upon her, and she found herself walking towards the door of The Cell. She tried to fight the instructions in her head, but she couldn't. The freedom she should have felt at being under the curse was diminished by her vain attempts at breaking Bellatrix's control over her. She was walking through a deserted corridor, towards another iron door. Bellatrix spelled the door open, and Hermione was thrust inside. Once the door was closed behind them, Hermione was released from the Imperius.
"Well, Mudblood, it is my unfortunate job to clean you up. Scourgify! Scourgify!" Bellatrix cast the cleansing spell at Hermione several times, until it felt like her skin was on fire. Too scared to do anything to resist, including wandless magic, all she could do was allow Bellatrix to do whatever it was to her that she wanted, which seemed to include fixing her hair, stripping her naked, and dressing her in ridiculous emerald-colored robes that looked like they belonged on a wealthy pureblood woman.
When she was done, Bellatrix stepped back and regarded her work. "Well, you're still filth, but I suppose, considering who's getting you, you'll do."
"Getting me?" Hermione spat, unable to contain her anger any longer.
"Silence!" Bellatrix bellowed before striking Hermione across the face. "You are a gift for one of the Dark Lord's servants. A Mudblood is sufficient for a sex toy."
Hermione sickened at being described in such a way. Bellatrix was disturbing enough as it was, but to have her casually telling her that she was likely going to be raped by a Death Eater made her even more of a monster than Hermione had ever imagined.
"Now, let's go." Bellatrix pulled Hermione up by her arms and pushed her out of the door, her wand sticking in her back. It seemed that Bellatrix got more of a thrill out of Hermione's movements being controlled by her own fear rather than by magic.
Without the haze of the Imperius, Hermione was able to chance a look at the halls through which she was walking. Everything around her had been decorated in shades of green and silver, though the place itself looked as though it had been abandoned for quite some time before the Death Eaters had taken it over. Still, it radiated with a very strong aura of dark magic, so strong it was almost stifling.
In the midst of her bewilderment, she found herself standing in front of a dark wooden door, a door that appeared to be her destination. Bellatrix grasped her arm tightly and banged on it.
"Happy Christmas. I've got your whore for you. Open the damned door!"