Chapter 2
Hermione followed the crowd of defeated students through the Entrance Hall, where the scenes of battle were all around them. The floor was covered in blood and debris, and there were bodies – dead bodies everywhere. She glanced in to the Great Hall as she passed it, as the huge room was being used as a hospital for the injured and as a place for the deceased.
She had been in there only an hour before, supporting Ron as he cried for his brother Fred, watching Remus Lupin as his heart broke beside the body of his dead wife, unable to help her dorm-mate Parvati as she'd begged Madam Pomfrey to save her best friend Lavender after the werewolf's attack. So much senseless waste of life, and for what?
An unmasked but unfamiliar Death Eater prodded her in the back to speed her on her way, they all knew who she was, she heard the whispers.
Potter's Mudblood …
After climbing many staircases that were unusually stationary, perhaps they too had been dumbstruck by the night's events and were too petrified to shift about mischievously in their normal manner, lest they too be blasted apart by the invaders, Hermione arrived at the Transfiguration classroom, as instructed. She would have been a fool to keep running.
She had a brief thought that she wished she'd been standing nearer to Fleur, Remus and Kingsley and Apparated away with them, but could she really have left everyone here? Her best friends lay dead in the courtyard, she would not leave their bodies to the Death Eaters' mercy. She would find out what was in store, and then she would fight against it.
The few surviving members of the Order were no doubt regrouping, coping with the decimation of their number and would be planning too. None of those witches and wizards would give up fighting against the dark, not whilst there was still breath in their bodies. They could do no more here at Hogwarts, today. If they'd tried, they would have been another body on the hard stones of the courtyard.
As she entered the classroom to find Professor McGonagall in a state of high anxiety, flipping through the school record books and deputising house-elves to Apparate Muggle-borns out of the castle before Snape arrived, Hermione realised that as much as she wanted to fight, she was grossly outnumbered by the size and brutality of Voldemort's army.
"Miss Granger," McGonagall called as soon as she walked in, "Miss Granger, assist me please. We need to remove all Muggle-borns from the school, immediately. I am trying to ascertain who has parents still alive that they can return to. The number of students is not great, since those without provable magical heritage were not permitted at Hogwarts over the last year, as you know, but several snuck in to fight for our side in the battle."
Dennis Creevey was seated at a desk in a state of shock. Hermione had last seen him crying over the body of his brother, Colin, in the Great Hall. Neither of them should have been here, they were too young, and as a Muggle-born Dennis was now at immediate risk. Hermione jumped to attention, snatching up another leather bound screed of parchments that were the school's records, and began to copy McGonagall, finding places for these students to be evacuated to, and fast.
A seventh-year Hufflepuff, Orla Roach, was already doing the same, and Dean Thomas was keeping watch at the door for either the approaching footsteps of more scared students, or the heavy footfall of Death Eaters. All three looked at one another and their determined expressions said the same – We will be the last to leave.
-xxx-
Not long later the door of the Transfiguration classroom crashed open, making them all jump, and Professor Snape stalked inside, clad in his usual head-to-toe black, and flanked by a dozen Death Eaters. The guard was hardly necessary since there were only herself, Dean, Orla and Professor McGonagall left in the room, having drawn a blank on where the three of them could go.
Hermione had removed her own parents to safety via an Obliviate and a one-way ticket to Australia, and both Orla's parents and Dean's mother had been killed when Death Eaters had raided their homes.
Both had been on the run during the last year when they had been banned from Hogwarts. Hermione had heard Dean that night in the forest, with Ted Tonks and Dirk Cresswell – how he had survived after their deaths she had no idea.
Through a hissed conversation that had punctuated their search through the record books, Orla had told Hermione that she had hidden in plain sight, immersing herself in the Muggle world, taking a job in a shop and renting the flat above it with her wages, living from hand to mouth, but had returned to Hogwarts to be of whatever use she could in the final battle.
Hermione had not seen Professor Snape since he had run out of his office the night he killed Dumbledore, growling at her and Luna to help Flitwick, who had collapsed, he told them. Since then it had become obvious that Snape had stunned Professor Flitwick to keep him out of the way as he joined the fray around the Astronomy Tower – but not for their side.
The sour wizard looked exactly as she remembered, his black hair long and lank, his oddly-expressionless black eyes taking in the room, yet not focusing on anyone in particular. His skin was as pale as ever, but more lined, especially around his mouth that was set in its usual severe slash of disapproval. She was scared. If Snape was capable of killing Professor Dumbledore in order to be made Headmaster there was no telling what he would do with a trio of homeless Mudbloods, surplus to requirements. They now counted for less than nothing in Voldemort's new world.
The accompanying Death Eaters filed in and arranged themselves so they intimidatingly took up most of the room. No one spoke. It was as if they were waiting for something. Or someone.
Shit.
She had not expected the Dark Lord himself to enter the tiny classroom. Just as her mind processed what was about to happen, Voldemort swept into the room, bringing with him an aura of terror and insanity. It was as if the air had chilled around them and he surveyed the room with his merciless, reptilian eyes. Hermione had never been this close to him, to this dread lord who now controlled their entire world.
For a long while Voldemort did not speak, only stepped delicately around the room, his eyes leisurely casting over the three students and the Gryffindor Head of House.
"I was under the impression, Severus, that more Mudbloods than this had found way their back into the school?"
"As indeed was I, My Lord. Minerva, should there not be more students here?"
"There were a few Muggle-borns that managed to enter the school in order to fight, Headmaster," McGonagall bit out, clearly wanting to wrap her wand around Snape's neck and separate his head from his shoulders. "However, apart from these three, all were killed in the attempt."
"I believe this to be true," Snape answered. "I myself saw many bodies of un-uniformed students during my inspection of the Great Hall. These would be the Mudbloods, who would not have been wearing uniform. They cannot be accounted for since they were struck from the registers at the beginning of this school year."
He looked at the giant ledgers Minerva had in front of her, and prayed that she'd had the good sense to score out all the names of the Muggle-borns she had managed to save. She must have done.
"Are these three of age?" piped up Corban Yaxley, a Death Eater and corrupt Ministry official. "If they are, we need only to transport them to the Ministry where they can be dealt with by the Registration Committee, who will deal with their theft of magic appropriately."
"I wonder," Severus answered, "if it would not be more prudent, My Lord, to keep the three of them here at Hogwarts? It would be a great example of your benevolence if you were to allow them to complete their NEWTs, and once they are qualified, they can be used in your further service. There is three months until the end of the school year, so they will have to work hard to prove themselves worthy of you, since none of them have been in school since last year."
"What a load of centaur shit, Snape," Yaxley called out. "The whole point is to eradicate the Mudbloods, not give them special treatment!"
"Quiet, Yaxley," commanded Voldemort, in a soft voice that belied the power he held over everyone in the room. "I am not sure where it has come from, but I find myself interested in your suggestion, Severus. Like it or not, our world is polluted by the stench of their filthy blood. Perhaps containment and control may indeed be better than eradication."
Severus said nothing, but gave a single nod to express his gratitude at the Dark Lord's consideration of his idea. No person in the room appeared to be breathing, least of all the three Muggle-borns whose fates currently lay in the hands of an unhinged psychopath.
"Let us experiment with these three. If they can be brought to heel, if their stolen magic can be used for my purposes, then it could provide me with previously untapped sources of power. Corban, I do not want them taken before the Registration Committee at this time. As you are no doubt aware, I do not need to seek your permission, but as a token of Lord Voldemort's generosity, I will gift you one of these Mudbloods to … amuse and divert you whilst you are at Hogwarts."
The sleazy smirk that spread across Yaxley's face made it clear that the boon he had been granted erased any objections he might have been about to voice.
"The blonde," he answered, immediately. "She can warm my bed on the nights I am here in your service, My Lord."
Hermione's eyes widened in horror. It had seemed as if Professor Snape was attempting, in a strange way, to help them, but this was a curve she had not anticipated. Looking across at Orla and Dean, she had no doubt that the looks of terror upon their faces was mirrored on her own.
"Severus, you surely cannot condone …"
"Minerva, I have told you once," Snape interrupted, "you are to comply with the instructions you have been given. My brothers here will be teaching at the school from this point on …"
"Those thugs teaching at Hogwarts? Over my dead body!"
"If you do not desist, it will be over your dead body," he retorted, smoothly. "Each of the Dark Lord's valiant soldiers will be given a teaching position, in which they will be supported by the existing subject teacher. This is to ensure that the students are given no … inappropriate information. Professors will be supervised by their counterpart at all times whilst in role."
Professor McGonagall's face curled in disgust, but she seemed have decided that it was prudent not to say any more. Yaxley had sauntered over to Orla and had his hands on her, as if appraising goods at market.
"You are pleased with your boon, Corban?"
"Oh yes, My Lord. Most pleased, indeed and I thank you. I will teach this Mudblood to know her place."
Orla Roach was a few inches taller than Hermione, with hair so white-blonde and eyes so blue that she could have been a Malfoy. Hermione did not know her well, since they'd never had any lessons together, but she always seemed to have friends enough, and had played Chaser for the Hufflepuff Quidditch team since her third year.
Rather than being dragged before the Muggle-born Registration Committee, Orla had been given the chance to return to school and qualify, but in order to do so, she was going to have to submit to this foul excuse for a wizard who sought to debauch her body and subjugate her mind, to bend her to Voldemort's will.
"You can't do that!" shouted Dean, who had remained silent since Snape had entered the room. "You can't keep her as some kind of sex slave, you dirty pervert. Get your hands off her!"
He then made the grievous error of slapping Yaxley's hands away from where they were pawing Orla's shoulders, his righteous anger and Gryffindor chivalry distracting him from what was sensible at that very moment. Yaxley had drawn his wand and cut Dean down with an Avada Kedavra before had pulled Orla three feet away.
"No!" screamed McGonagall. "There must be no more murder at Hogwarts!"
She drew her wand and fired into the crowd of Death Eaters, taking down three with well-aimed, debilitating hexes. The old professor did not have the black heart to murder though, and Severus was forced to simply watch as Voldemort drew out his wand and sent a vicious body bind and silencing charm to this stalwart of Hogwarts. Her tall body fell ungracefully to the floor, and there was a sickening crack as her head hit the stone floor of her own classroom.
Miss Granger and the blonde Hufflepuff had backed to the far wall of the classroom, clutching one another for support.
"Alas, the dear professor did not know when to keep her mouth shut. And it was not for the want of you warning her, Severus. Perhaps, when we are finished here, you will advise the Gryffindor hellcat that next time she cannot hold her tongue, I shall remove it."
"Thank you, My Lord," he replied, and the words burned in his throat, although he thought Minerva was lucky that Riddle hadn't simply obliterated her. He needed her to teach, that was why – her life had been saved by her own skills.
"Now that the opposition is attended to, let me return to the far more pleasurable matter in hand. Yaxley, go and reclaim your Mudblood, and instruct her in how she may be of service to me whilst she receives the boon of being able to study at Hogwarts, despite her heritage."
The bulldog-faced Yaxley strode over to the girls and yanked the blonde from her friend and out of the door, no doubt to begin his sordid instruction straight away.
"Then we have the final matter of this girl here."
"Harry Potter's Mudblood, My Lord," interjected Dolohov. "She's been travelling with him this last year, her and the blood traitor Weasley."
"Harry … Potter's … Mudblood. Well, well. You must be quite distraught at the recent loss of your friends. How grateful you must be to have this chance of remaining here, in this hallowed seat of learning."
To Snape's surprise, Granger answered the Dark Lord.
"I am, Sir. I understand I am lucky to be given this chance to take my exams here."
She bowed her head in a gesture of gratitude.
What was she doing? This little Gryffindor did not cower in fear, had not fallen prey to anger or emotion, despite the carnage she had just witnessed in here, during the battle and throughout the slaughter of her friends in the courtyard?
Voldemort laughed. He actually laughed.
"How interesting, that I did not expect your response. Perhaps your Headmaster is right, it may be easier to bend you to … our way of thinking than I had first thought. I confess myself impressed with you. You will be a fine prize for one of my most loyal servants."
The Death Eaters began to jostle for position, practically salivating over the firm young body of Miss Granger, a body that had grown ripe and womanly since he had last seen her. These animals would take that youthful body apart, as well as breaking her spirit and crushing whatever semblance of a plan that she might have secreted inside her formidable mind. There was no other choice, he could not willingly hand her over to one of them.
"I want her."
"You, Severus?"
"I am the Headmaster of this school. Miss Granger here is a top student, intellectually gifted and magically powerful, despite her blood status. There is none but me who could contain and mould her, if she is to remain here and complete her education."
He kept his face impassively neutral, and was impressed to see that Granger was doing the same. Was she playing the same game? He had no idea. There was a general rumbling of dissent amongst the Death Eaters, but he was convinced that Voldemort would grant him this. What's more, all those bastards knew it too.
"Once again, your suggestion holds merit. Very well. As recognition of the loyal service you have provided within the walls of this school, and the work you have before you, I shall grant you also a boon, Severus."
"You are too generous, My Lord, but I gratefully accept. Come here, Miss Granger."
Without a moment's hesitation, she walked over and stood by his side. There was something that looked awfully like hope in her eyes. If this child thought he could protect her, she was badly wrong. He could only do his best to protect her from the filthy hands of his vile comrades.
"Go to Gryffindor Tower. Arrange yourself so that you are ready to start studying when lessons recommence. I shall send word when I require you, and you are to attend the Headmasters' office immediately you receive such a summons. Is that clear?"
"Yes, Sir."
She turned to leave, but her escape was thwarted when Voldemort bid her to halt, then turned around to face his puppet headmaster.
"I am not entirely convinced that you fully appreciate the boon I have granted you, Severus. Allow me to assist you in making the best use of your prize."
He drew his wand and incanted over the two of them. Snape felt the cold fingers of the dark spell course through him, it seemed to gather pace and expand as it travelled down his body, finally popping in a painless explosion somewhere deep in his gut.
Looking at Miss Granger's physical reaction, she had obviously felt the same dark magic, and it would have had more effect on her, since she'd not been exposed to the Dark Arts for most of her life, as he had.
He knew exactly what the Dark Lord had cast upon them both.
A compulsion curse.
