A/N: Do not underestimate Viktor, my lovelies, there is more going on than meets the eye. Draco knows. This chapter is a bit short, but I didn't want to overload you with information. **Read this chapter carefully. There is a ton of information about motives and the plot here.** I took about twelve hours on this chapter (about double normal) because I wanted everything I did explain to be crystal clear. I hope I achieved that.

I wanted to take a moment to give a heartfelt thank all of my reviewers. Your little notes have been touching my heart and making me smile. I most humbly and sincerely thank you. (and beg for more) :)

-Elvee

(P.S.- edited for typos, they drive me batty.)

Snatch

Chapter Fourteen

"I used to be Snow White, but I drifted."

-Mae West

Eyes wide, Hermione snatched the afghan from the foot of Malfoy's bed and threw it over him to protect his nudity. Her face flooded with heat. Hermione's mind was in guilt-fueled overdrive. The mortification of being caught snogging by her former Potions Master was nothing compared to the startling realization she'd just made. Inwardly, she cursed herself, this was twice in the same day she'd been reminded what a bleeding heart Griffindor she really was. More importantly, she'd been reminded it had very real, very serious consequences when dealing with Slytherins.

Hermione had made adjustments to her plan to save Malfoy and his mother. She hadn't even changed her plan for Dumbledore or the Order. That thought begged the answer to the question why? She knew the answer. The brightest witch of her age was a silly, sentimental girl, that's why. She'd let the ferret get to her. In her guilt she flicked her eyes to Malfoy.

Malfoy had relaxed back into his pillows, and unlike her, he wasn't afraid to meet Snape's eye. Despite the tear tracks, his impassive mask had slid back into place. He'd neither fidgeted with nor adjusted the blanket she'd thrown over him. His lips were pink and slightly swollen. There was a slight flush to his cheeks. He chose that moment to suck the last of her saliva from his bottom lip. He looked completely and utterly guilty and singularly unrepentant.

It was devastatingly sexy.

For his part, Snape slapped a copy of the Daily Prophet on the table and stared between them stony faced. In response to their silence, he picked up one of the coffee cups off the table and sniffed it, looking for traces of love potion or some other mind altering substance, Hermione guessed. Apparently finding nothing, he repeated the action with the other.

She decided to take a leaf from Malfoy's book and act like nothing happened. Ignoring her old professor, she sat down at the table and opened his newspaper. She tried to convince herself it wasn't to hide behind the pages, but she knew better. She had to get a handle on her composure. After all, it wasn't like anything had happened. So they snogged? So what? Snape had probably snogged a thousand women in his life.

She peeked over the edge of the paper at his long, lank hair, his hooked nose and yellow, crooked teeth. Her nose wrinkled.

Or not.

Well, what was the worst he could do? He could tell Malfoy she was black mailing his parents, but he already knew that. Of course, it was an unconventional piece of blackmail. She wasn't exactly asking them for a cauldron full of galleons in exchange for his life. She soliciting murder by threatening the blood status and honor of every Malfoy progeny from this point forward. Malfoy wouldn't care about the murders, but he'd definitely have an issue with ruining his family's blood status. The best leverage Snape had was telling him about the terms of his release.

Was that really so terrible?

It wasn't like she had feelings for him. He'd lashed out and regretted it. He'd been vulnerable and she'd comforted him. That's it. It was a display of normal human empathy, that's all. Okay, so he was good looking. So what? Lots of wizards were good looking. And perhaps, if she thought about it, she was lonely. She wouldn't deny that. And perhaps she was a little vulnerable herself after the argument with Viktor. He was there, he was attractive and he was showing interest. Being naked didn't hurt, either. In the end, she and Malfoy had used each other to feel better. That's all there was to it.

Let Snape tell him. It wasn't like she cared what Malfoy thought of her. He wasn't her friend, they had already made that clear. Friends didn't keep friends naked and strapped to a bed. He may have said he liked her, but she knew better. Muggle psychologists even had a name for it: Stockholm Syndrome. Malfoy had all the classic signs: empathy, sympathy, and positive feelings for his captor. He'd get over it.

Once Lucius had finished dancing on her string, she'd be rid of Malfoy once and for all. It was best for both for them. Malfoy's feelings would gradually return to anger, and he'd go on to live the rest of his days cheerfully hating her, and she'd go back to hating him. All would be right with the world.

She realized she couldn't remember turning a page in longer than was normal. Just as she was about to, a small article caught her eye: Magical Accident at the Ministry: Two Dead.

That was what she'd been waiting for. She skimmed the article and found the names she was searching for: Yaxley and Donovan. Despite the dramatic events at the cabin, her plan had been ticking right along. Now that was good planning, she congratulated herself. It really didn't matter what Snape thought, all she needed to do was keep him from taking Malfoy from her until tomorrow.

"And how is Mr. Krum?" Snape asked, a glitter of malice in his eyes.

Of course, there was nothing saying he would fight fair.

Snape's mouth twisted into a mockery of a smile. It was his best 'I have you right where I want you' smile; the same one he had given them in the Shrieking Shack when he thought he'd caught Sirius Black. This time he aimed that smile at her, and the explosive gauntlet was thrown.

"Krum? Viktor Krum is here?" Malfoy shouted. His smooth features and composed manner contorted with rage. He struggled frantically against his shackles.

"Yes, Malfoy, calm down," she said, not taking her eyes from Snape. He knew something. Judging from Malfoy's reaction, it wasn't good.

"Dammit, Granger! Let me go! He's a Death Eater that..." Malfoy was howling now, she'd thought she'd seen him angry before, but that was nothing compared to the apoplectic blonde before her. The iron bed frame was groaning and rocking, trying to restrain him.

She couldn't afford to keep her attention glued to Snape any longer. If she didn't do something Malfoy was going to hurt himself trying to get free. She gave Snape one last glare, then stepped closer to the bed, saying firmly, "Malfoy!" When he didn't respond, she yelled, "Draco!" He finally slowed his struggles and looked up at her, his chest heaving with his fury. "Calm down. Viktor's and I aren't..."

Snape's dry laugh sounded from behind her, and he purred, "Is that what you think, Miss Granger? Draco is worried about a little love triangle?"

Malfoy's eyes were wide, his skin flushed with anger. He stopped struggling long enough to look up at her and say, "Granger! For Merlin's sake, give me your wand!"

Hermione looked between them, Malfoy, desperate and despairing; Snape composed and challenging her with a smirk. She struggled for some kind of understanding.

"Still in the dark, then? Tell me, Miss Granger, do you understand the sacrifices the Order makes?" Snape said in his best lecturing tone.

"He took the Mark," she said in a numb whisper, but her gut instinct told her there was more to it than that. Malfoy had the Mark, what would he care if Viktor had it, too?

"Your ignorance demonstrates you have no idea what bearing this Mark entails." Snape flicked a piece of lint off his coat. Did she really know what Death Eaters did? The only solid information she'd gotten was from Malfoy himself. Rape, torture and murder seemed to be par for the course.

Her eyes roamed the room, touching everything and seeing nothing. Her brain was making and discarding connections between facts. She free associated, letting one word draw her to the next digging for something, anything. Krum. Order. Sacrifice. Snape. Death Eaters. Lucius. Took his turn.

It wasn't possible. She nailed Snape with a gape of disbelief. The corner of his mouth curled up in smug victory. "Oh. Very good, Miss Granger. Ten points to Griffindor. Care to share it with the class?"

She whirled on Malfoy and whispered in disbelief, "No, Draco. He wouldn't... He didn't..."

"No?" He barked a bitter laugh."Your big, brave Order boyfriend took his turn raping my mother that night." He growled with a feral smile. "I was there," he hissed. "The Dark Lord made me watch them. All of them."

Something Viktor had said earlier whispered through her mind like poison, 'You can't imagine what disgusting things the Dark Lord asks me to do. But I do it. I do it all, so I can help you.' She shook her head, slowly at first, then faster as her denial built. "No, there's got to be some kind of misunderstanding. Viktor would never..." With a flick of her wand the curtain hiding Viktor vanished. He was sitting up in bed. His expression told her he'd heard every word. "Tell them, Viktor!" She yelled, "Tell them it's all a mistake."

His turned back to drop his gaze in his lap. He said nothing for a long moment, his mouth forming and discarding words silently. Finally, he shook his head mutely, an admission of guilt.

"What?!" She screamed. "You raped Narcissa Malfoy?"

He brought his gaze up to meet hers. His eyes were hollowed out with pain and sadness. "For you. I did it for you."

"You son of a pestilent flobberworm! I will kill you for touching her!" Spittle flew from Malfoy's mouth as he screamed and thrashed, trying to exact revenge on the man who had raped his mother, on the man who dared insult the honor of the Malfoys. When Viktor didn't respond, he turned back to Hermione, "Give me your wand, Granger. Hell, just let me up, I'll kill him with my bare hands." Malfoy growled, barely keeping his anger in check.

"How could you? Viktor!" The questions that fell out of her mouth were the same shocked questions everyone asked, but she knew the answers. She didn't want to, but she did. He'd raped Narcissa Malfoy to keep his cover as a Death Eater. He'd become a Death Eater to help the Order. He'd helped the Order to protect her. The guilt was like a wrecking ball to the stomach. She felt like she was going to vomit.

He'd admitted to raping a woman. What else had he done in her name that he wasn't confessing? Even if he wasn't a 'real' Death Eater, he sure as hell acted like one; he didn't get the wounds he was currently healing from by falling down the steps. The Ministry Manual of Coded Punishment decreed all Death Eaters were to be kissed in Azkaban. To live a soulless life was far, far worse than death.

With the mitigating circumstances, what Malfoy was asking for suddenly didn't seem as barbaric.

She turned away from the smirking Snape, from the furious Malfoy, from the guilty Krum and stared at a blank wall for a full minute, motionless, her fingers stroking her wand. At last she knew what it meant to feel as though a murder was justified, and it took the breath from her. She closed her eyes and summoned Dobby.

Once he cracked into existence she bent over grasping his shoulders lightly and whispered in his ear, "It's time. Don't speak, just nod if you understand. Do you remember the alternate plan?" He nodded, his eyes wide and worried. "Begin the preparations." He hesitated, unsure. She held his eyes until he nodded again. "Good. Thank you. You're dismissed." He cracked out of existence.

She turned back around to the room of men watching her. Breaking the silence, Malfoy yelled, "Granger!"

She blinked, then gave a curt nod. "You're right."

Viktor's head jerked up, his expression revealing a broken man. Snape's hand froze from picking the lint off his coat. Malfoy gave a slow smile. When she didn't make a move, he became impatient, hissing, "Then give me your goddamn wand and let me do it!"

"No." She shook her head.

"Granger!" Malfoy growled dangerously.

"Malfoy, do you remember what I said earlier? I am not the bad guy here." It was his cue to pay attention. Malfoy didn't know it, but with her next sentence she ensured Snape could never get him close to the dark side again. "Viktor is in the Order of the Pheonix, isn't he, Severus?" The dark, bitter spy let his eyes narrow at her, but said nothing. "For that matter," she continued smoothly, "So are you."

Malfoy jerked his head to his godfather. For the first time, Snape's careful composure slipped and he looked nervous. His fingers twitched for his wand.

He watched her as he slid his hand to his wand. She gave him a slight shake of the head and brought her wand up, training it on him. "Now, now. We're all friends here. Malfoy, despite the fact that I am not a member of the Order, they support Harry, so I support them... mostly. I don't support Snape taking you back to the Manor for Voldemort to torture. So I just told you his biggest secret. He can't afford to take you any where near a Death Eater ever again. If they ever found out, he'd beg for death by the time they were finished with him. Your godfather works for Dumbledore."

Malfoy was glaring at Snape, his godfather gave him a dismissive glance, then shot a look of unadulterated loathing at her. "You foolish girl! Do you know what you've done?"

Malfoy surprised her by jumping to her defense. "She's not a fool, Severus. She just outed you as a spy and a lying, scheming git."

Snape ignored him and continued to level his anger at Hermione, "You can never come back to the Order."

"I was never welcome in the first place, you lot seem to forget that. I've given them Greyback, Nott, Yaxley and Donovan. I asked for one thing, Severus. One thing! Him!" She pointed at a stunned Malfoy. "But even after all I've done for you, you couldn't leave well enough alone. That was a mistake. I don't need the Order, Severus. I've already chosen a side. Mine. The Order members will take the crumbs I give them and be thankful." Hermione's hair was wild, her eyes flashing and her chest was heaving by the time she was finished. There was palpable uncontrolled magic in the room, the air crackled with it like static electricity.

Snape knew better than to push her with this much volatile magic on the loose. He dropped his challenge, but she knew it wasn't over. She'd fight that battle as it came. For now, she whirled on her former boyfriend, "Viktor, we used to be friends, but I don't even know who you are any more. The Viktor I knew would never have done something like that." She dipped a glance at his Mark, "But you're not that man any more, are you?"

In response, Viktor looked away in shame. "Even knowing what you did, I can't let Malfoy kill you today." Malfoy's head swiveled to her, a curse on his lips, but her next words silenced him again. "Your information is too important to the Order. But. No one rapes any woman and says it is in my name. If you survive this war, Viktor Krum, I promise you I am going to hunt you down and hand Draco my wand to do it."

Malfoy wasn't satisfied, but he settled down, his face falling into a grim line. "Thank you."

She pointed her wand back to Snape. "You vile man, you actually enjoyed this didn't you?" Disgust raged through her. "You both have until morning to be gone."

"Tell me, Miss Granger, since this is an evening of truth telling,"Snape's voice was deceptively silky. "Shouldn't young Draco know about how you arranged for the murder of those Death Eaters?"

She'd been expecting the retaliation. She'd all but goaded him into it. She gave a lazy smirk. "Be my guest," she drawled. "Right after you explain why the Order wouldn't rescue his mother." Snape shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"You bastard! You said..." He quieted when she placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Look at me, Draco. It doesn't matter. The Order doesn't matter. We don't need them." The blonde gave her a measuring look, then gave her a nod of assent. She gave him a conspiratorial smile. "And Snape is just jumping the hippogryph to tell you we're getting married."

"WHAT?"

Outside the cabin a murder of crows were startled from their trees into the sunset sky.