A/N: HEY GUYS! Thanks so much for telling me about the formatting issue! Hope this fixed it!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Chapter 6 – Anger

The next few days passed by in a blur to Hermione. Snape had excused her from her faux apprenticeship, and had instead placed her entirely in Molly Weasley's care. Hermione had had her stomach filled with more tea and biscuits than she had ever had in her life, and yet, she still felt strangely empty. Hollow. She wished that Mrs. Weasley would understand that she longed for answer and explanations, rather than good food and drink. So, one week after the tragedy, when Professor Snape was out running errands, Hermione walked herself down into the kitchen and sat down to confront the Weasley matriarch.

"Hermione! I'm sorry dear, I didn't see you there!" Molly turned away from the stove and wiped her hands off with a dish towel. "Can I get you anything? This soup will be ready in time for dinner, but we still have biscuits in the pantry."

"No, thank you, Mrs. Weasley."

"Molly, please, dear." Molly smiled warmly as she took in Hermione's appearance. She fought to keep the smile on her face, because just looking at the poor girl made her heart break. While Hermione had never been interested in fashion or makeup, she had always at least made sure that she looked presentable and clean. Now, her face was red and splotchy from frequent crying, and her hair looked like she hadn't showered since before the incident. Her clothes were wrinkled and grubby, and Molly had the sneaking suspicion that she was napping in her clothes. Hermione tried her best to smile back at the woman, but she knew that it was a broken smile at most.

"I was wondering, Molly, if we could actually talk instead."

Molly agreed readily and sat down opposite Hermione at the table, smoothing her

"Yes, dear, of course? What would you like to talk about?"

"I want to know what happened." She stated bluntly. Molly startled at this slightly and began to fidget with her fingers.

"Hermione, dear, you know what happened. It was a standard Death Eater raid-"

"No, Molly, it wasn't." She interrupted. "You've been skirting around the subject and hiding from it. I know there's something you're not telling me, and I hate to sound rude, but I want to know what it is."

Molly sniffed loudly and pulled out a large handkerchief, dabbing at her eyes.

"Oh, darling, you'll have to forgive an old woman's guilt! I'm so sorry, my dear! I can't help but wonder if I had told you of Albus' s news sooner, or perhaps if I asked Severus to take you sooner, then maybe..."

"Then maybe nothing would have changed." A deep voice drawled from the door. Molly and Hermione both looked at Snape with surprise - he was not due to be back for quite some time. He leaned lazily against the door and crossed his arms over his chest.

"We've had this conversation before, Molly. It wasn't your fault. You told me as soon as you could, Miss Granger and I even left earlier than expected. We were, regrettably, taken by surprise."

"Surprise?" Hermione hissed. "Surprise? You're the bloody spy! You knew! You knew!"

Fear briefly crossed Snape's face, but was soon replaced with indifference.

"Calm down , Miss Granger. I won't insult you by denying anything. Yes, I am the spy. And yes, I knew that there were going to be more attacks on muggleborn families. However, I had no idea that your family was a target. I believe that the death of your parents was an...impulse...reaction."

"An impulse reaction?!" Hermione screeched, jumping up from her seat. "That is the explanation you give me? My parents are dead! The only family I have left is dead! What kind of goddamn spy are you that couldn't protect two muggles!"

Snape uncrossed his arms and moved to sneer down at Hermione.

"You have brains, Miss Granger? Use them. What do you think prompted such an impulsive reaction?"

Hermione's eyes bored into his own, hard an unyielding, before softening.

"He was angry...very angry, wasn't he? Attacking my family would cause a lot of trouble, so something must have really bothered him...were the boys successful?"

"Yes, Miss Granger, they were."

A smile danced across Hermione's face, a real smile, before she crumpled once more into the Potion's Master's arms. He grimaced at the sudden contact, but gently put his arms around her nonetheless. Her sobs ceased quickly and she pulled away, swiping at

"I find myself conflicted", she chuckled.

"No one would dare judge you for such feelings, Miss Granger. Now, if you're quite done soaking yet another one of my shirts, I have work to do."

Hermione smiled sadly to herself as Snape disappeared down the stairs and tactfully excused herself from the kitchen, climbing the stairs to her own room. She sat down on her bed and willed her mind to quiet. She knew that she should be happy that Harry and Ron had destroyed a horcrux, but something didn't sit right in her heart. As she and her friends had grown up, they knew the consequences of this war. Families and friends would be lost, it was a fact of life. And yet, it always seemed to happen to someone else. She had always feared for her parent's safety, but she could have never had lead herself to believe that they would actually been killed. It forced her to think, how many more innocent deaths we're indirectly her fault? How many families were needlessly ripped apart? She knew that winning this war was of the utmost importance, but if it meant losing the very people you were fighting to protect, what was the point?

With an exasperated sigh, Hermione stood up from the bed and opened up Ron's trunk, searching for something she knew he hid there. "For a rainy day," he had told her.

"Aha!" She exclaimed, pulling out the whiskey and three shot glasses. "This should take my mind off things," she muttered, sitting down at the desk.

"Severus! Dinner!"

Snape looked up from the book he was reading and scowled at the kitchen. Molly was only ten years older than him, and yet, she treated him as if he was one of her ginger haired spawn. He had a right mind to tell the woman to stop coddling him, but the large growl that had just emanated from his stomach made him reconsider. He may not like her constant attention, but pride be damned, he did love her food. So, with a sigh, he put down his book and stalked into the kitchen, surprised to see that Miss Granger was not there as well.

"Severus! Excellent. Would you fetch Hermione from her room for me, please? I'd go up there myself, but," she gestured wildly to the mess of pots and pans before her. Snape grunted in response and walked up the narrow staircase to Miss Granger's room. He started to grimace when his senses were assaulted with the sound of loud music and the stench of booze drifting out from behind her door. He rapped thrice and announced himself, but there was no answer. Pushing the door open, he let himself inside, and was shocked at the sight before him.

The room was completely destroyed. The curtains were ripped into shreds and laying in a heap on the ground, the glass window was shattered, several chairs were broken and a dusting of feathers from the torn pillows covered the room. In the middle of the bed sat Hermione Granger, balancing a half-empty bottle of whiskey and three shot glasses upon a textbook.

"Miss Granger! What is the meaning of this?" Snape shouted over the heavy rock music that filled the room. Hermione lifted her head but it lolled around slightly, and she couldn't seem to focus on him.

"Miss Granger!" He repeated, louder this time. With an irritated huff, he silenced the loud music with a flick of his wand. Her head snapped to attention at the loss of the music and she glared at him.

"Now that I have your attention, would you care to explain exactly what's going on?"

"'S a wake, Per-fesser." She mumbled, pointing to the three shot glasses. "'S was 'pposed to be for me, an' Harry, an' Ron, but look… one for me, one for mum, an' one for dad." She swung her legs over to the side of the bed and stood up shakily, swaying in place. She took a few steps towards the Professor, but stumbled, falling into a heap on the ground.

Snape rolled his eyes and marched over to her, wrapping a hand around her upper arm and depositing her back on the bed. Fishing into his robes, his hands found a small flask he kept with him at all times and thrust it into Hermione's hands.

"Sober Up Potion. Drink it. Now. Two gulps will do."

Hermione complied, grimacing at the taste of the potion. It's effects, however, began immediately. The pleasant buzzing that had previously filled her head was disappearing, and the sickening feeling of dread that she had been trying to forget was taking its place. She handed the flask back to Professor Snape and folded her hands in her lap.

"Now. Would you like to explain just what you were thinking?"

Hermione mumbled something under her breath, too softly for Snape to hear.

"Speak up, girl!"

"I said, what's the point?"

Snape shook his head in confusion.

"What on earth do you mean, 'what's the point'?"

"I mean," Hermione continued, fiddling with the bottle of whiskey, "what's the point? You-know-who is out to kill muggleborns and muggles. We're fighting to protect them, but we're failing miserably. Sure, we've destroyed one horcrux. There's five left, though. Not to mention killing You-Know-Who himself. And in the meantime, people are dying all around us." Her voice began to break and grow shaky. "I have no siblings, Professor. My parents were both only children, and my grandparents passed on a few years ago. My parents were the only family I had left, and now they're gone. The very thing I've been fighting to protect has been ripped away from me, so I want to know, what's the point of continuing this fight? Even if we win, which seems like a pipe dream right now, what's there for me on the other side of this war? Nothing. Loneliness. What. Is. The. Point?"

Since all the chairs in the room were currently destroyed, Snape instead took to leaning against the small desk.

"It's important to fight, Miss Granger, because the freedom of the Wizarding world depends on our victory."

"Our victory? Our? That's easy for you to say, you're a spy! You carry the Dark Mark! If You-Know-Who wins, you can just saunter over to him like nothing ever happened and live your life in peace! Why should I believe anything you say?"

The minute Hermione had finished speaking, she instantly regretted her words. Snape's face grew tight and pale with what looked like barely controlled fury, and his hands gripped the edge of the desk until his knuckles turned white.

"Do you know why I joined the Death Eaters, Miss Granger?" His voice was low and dangerous. When Hermione shook her head in the negative, he continued. "I grew up in an abusive household. My mother was a timid pureblood and my father was an alcoholic muggle. He beat my mother on a daily basis, and myself on a weekly basis. He despised magic in all its forms, and forbid us to use it in the house. Eventually, my mother's bumps and bruises turned to broken bones and concussions. My sixth year, I returned home to find that my mother had died while I was away at school. The official report was that she had fallen down a flight of stairs, but everyone knew what had really happened. When I graduated Hogwarts, my friends from school introduced me to the Dark Lord. Back then, he was a young, handsome, charismatic man. We ended up talking and when I told him my home life, he was sympathetic and helpful. He too had come from an unhappy home, and instead of judging me or looking down on my family, he treated me like an equal. He offered me exactly what I wanted – to teach me the kind of spells and curses that would make my father regret every blow he had ever landed on us. I joined the Death Eaters that night. It was a rash decision made in an emotional time for me, and I have regretted it every day since. The things you learn among the Death Eaters don't bring you power, it takes power from you."

"So, you mean to say, you are on our side?" She worried her bottom lip between her teeth.

"Was there ever any doubt?"

"No, well…it's just, there have been some times over the years where things have been a little…fishy."

Snape sighed and let his head fall back, exposing his throat. Hermione noted absently how pale his skin was – it nearly blended in with the white collar of his oxford.

"Have no doubt, Miss Granger. The happiest day of my life will be the day the Dark Lord's head rests upon a spike and this infernal mark is removed from my skin." He pushed himself away from the desk and straightened his robes. As he made to leave the room, he looked once more behind his shoulder.

"Don't despair, Miss Granger," he said. "War creates orphans, there is no avoiding that. Many more loved ones will be lost in the coming months, and the sooner you come to terms with that, the better. When this is all over, when we win, there will be hundreds of people who feel entirely alone, you and I included. But if we're all alone, we're all together in that, too."

A/N: I hope you like it! Next time, Hermione makes a startling realization! A letter from the boys! And...baking? Stay tuned!