Don't take that sinner from me

Chapter 11: Keep your friends close and your enemies closer

A/N: I own nothing except my mistakes.

They had been skipping her Patronus lessons for the next few days, for he was certain enough that she'd be able to produce it, and he felt like there would be more important things to concentrate on.

Instead, he focused a great deal of their days on her espionage. Not that they'd literally sit in a classroom all day, but they worked on it as well when they were together or in the Great Hall. Teaching her to keep her guard up and be prepared for anything.

As for their Occlumency, so far they had only been practicing how long she could resist, as well as prodding into her mind when she least expected it. Nine out of the ten times she would notice and be able to resist him well.

The next weekend they had been practicing as she felt more endangered, surrounding her with the same ghosts he had done last week, the ones that represented Voldemort, yet were actually nothing more than smoke. Yet, at the present time, they looked close to the real deal as it had gotten a more defined texture. Snape had also been intruding her mind more aggressively and relentlessly, to imitate Voldemort. At first her walls seemed to falter, but after another hour of constant practice, she seemed to hold up well.

Yawning, she lazily drank her pumpkin juice at the start of their second week in their holidays. Hooting of owls were heard, and Hermione looked pleasantly surprised at the snowy owl that came her way. "'Morning, Hedwig." She greeted happily as she stroked the owl's feathers, freeing it from the letters she was carrying. The owl hooted and stroked her head across her hand and dipped her head into the glass that had refilled itself with pumpkin juice.

Hermione chuckled and opened the letters she had gotten. They were all from Harry, Ron and Ginny, yet they all seemed to have commented on each other's letters as they wrote. The basic message was asking if she was holding up with the dungeon bat, all promising to come and fetch her the minute she couldn't take it anymore. Then they went on and told her about how they celebrated Christmas, and that Harry had been allowed to come over.

She sighed sadly as she reached for her own parchment, quill and ink and started to scribble a letter back:

Dear Ron, Ginny and Harry

I'll just address to all of you, seeing none of you managed to keep to their own letters.

Severus and I have actually been doing quite okay. He became a lot more bearable after one civilized conversation we had. Of course he is still his snarky self in our lessons. But there is only so much luck anyone can have, isn't there?

That sounds absolutely lovely! I wished I could be there with you guys. I haven't even celebrated Christmas! We've been practicing so much that it has been absolutely impossible for us to pay attention to it. However, I doubt it would have been a pleasant one with him there.

Thank you for your gifts, though. And Gin, thank your mother for me for the jumper she made for me, will you? I hope the gifts I sorted out for you lot were a bit doable. I didn't really have much time to go to Hogsmeade, let alone do it on my own. Severus insisted on joining me, in case Voldemort's followers were lurking around the corner. It was safe to say I had to sort out my gifts quickly.

I can't wait to see you all back at school! Merry belated Christmas everyone!

Love,

Hermione

She looked her letter over and rolled the parchment up, not being able to put it in an envelope at the moment. "Bring this to the Burrow, if you'd please, Hedwig." The owl hooted and Hermione smiled, tying the scroll to her leg and watched the owl fly off out of the Great Hall.

"Are you finished?" Hermione didn't jump at the sound of his voice anymore, and nodded casually as she put back her ink and quill in the bag she had been carrying every day. It always came in handy to have some supplies in case she'd stumble on something that was relevant enough to write down.

She followed the usual path to their Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. This time they'd be working on her talk to Voldemort. Determining her speech and the information she could give, as well as correct her at times she might sound disrespectful.

Their Occlumency lessons had been mixed into their daily activities, trying to get her at her weakest moments, but even then she was learning to resist.

Next morning she was a little wary when she didn't see him at breakfast, and dare she say that she got worried when he didn't show up for lunch. Deciding to linger around, she had positioned herself on the black leather couch near the dimly lit fireplace in his private quarters.

Opening the book she borrowed from Dumbledore once more, she reluctantly read more. It was great to get some answers, but she had to admit she couldn't relate to everything that was written. Perhaps it was indeed different for each couple.

A loud bang got her out of her concentration, and upon turning quickly around she saw the door shutting as a set of black robes swayed through it. His eyes landed on hers and she frowned. Before she had time to question him, he spoke with a toneless voice. "Friday night you will be requested to come. He shall summon us when it's ready." Hermione swallowed as she realized where he must have been and slowly nodded, sinking back into the couch as reality crawled uncomfortably into her skin. Only four days left to go until she'd become one of them..

"Starting tomorrow, we shall continue our lessons as usual." Snape informed her and after her nod, he left for his bedroom. With a sigh, she got up and brought the book back to her own bedroom, fetching her bag and left for the library. If she had some free time today, she'd do well using it for a bit of homework that would be due a week after her holidays.

After she had finished most of her work, she quickly sent the books back to their respective places and threw her own books back in her bag as she saw it was nearing the end of dinner time.

Hurrying through the corridors, she arrived a little breathless at the Great Hall. Hermione immediately noticed that the Headmaster had joined them once more since his absence, and he smiled weakly at her. She then noticed that her husband's seat was still remained empty. A group of the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuff's were whispering and she managed to get bits of the conversation as they all said to each other: "No, you do it!" Eventually someone sighed and irritably hissed: "Fine, I'll do it!" A Hufflepuff student who looked like she was in her fifth year spoke up loudly to Hermione as she walked by.

"Hey, Granger! Oh wait, my bad, Mrs Snape," she mockingly said and snickers were heard around the Great Hall, "where is your husband? Haven't seen him all day. Haven't been too rough on him, have you?" Hermione rolled her eyes, deciding to use the lessons she had been practicing with Snape, willing herself not to show any care at their comments. And to her surprise, it went fairly easy.

"That's none of your business, Abbott." Hermione sneered and a smirk appeared as she saw the girl cowering. Hermione quickly composed herself as she noticed her satisfaction that was caused by Hannah's reaction. Cursing Snape under her breath for rubbing off on her, she hastened to her bench and absentmindedly started to eat her dinner.

The last few days she had been absolutely drained of her energy. Snape had been pushing her harder than he had ever done before, wanting her to get it right on the first try without any hesitation or giveaway sign.

However, he did give her enough sleep on Friday morning, for they both knew that a sleepy mind would be extremely weak, making their efforts from the past few weeks worthless. It was safe to say that she had been catching up with her lost sleep, for she woke up right before lunch would start.

After a long and hot shower, she dressed into dark blue jeans and a white sweater and headed to the Great Hall, taking a seat on the bench whilst trying to control her beating heart. It wouldn't be long now until Voldemort would summon Snape. It wouldn't be long now until her fate would be decided.

Hermione tried not to think of the things awaiting her, for they took away her appetite and she knew she needed to eat to get some strength. Taking her sweet time, she ate and drank whilst distracting herself with the help of her favorite book: Hogwarts: A history.

She felt no need to move herself elsewhere, as the Great Hall started to empty when people had finished their lunch. After all, where could she go? Sure, the library was always available, but throughout the years she had read nearly all the books there, and it's not like she could really concentrate now anyway. That's why Hogwarts: A history was such a good choice because she knew the book inside and out already. The Gryffindor Tower was off bounds as well. Not only were all her friends at home, but she didn't know the new password anymore either.

And the dungeons? Well, she had seen enough of that lately. So, that led her down to the Great Hall. Many students were either outside playing in the snow, or in their own common room enjoying the heat of the fireplace. Only few would remain in the Hall.

A hand rested on her shoulder, and Hermione closed the book, looking over her right shoulder to see Snape looking seriously at her. As if reading her unspoken question, he nodded and Hermione swallowed as she looked out of the windows of the Great Hall. It was already getting dark, but it must still have been before dinner. Yet, they had been summoned earlier than she had expected.

Walking with him out of the Great Hall, they went down to the dungeons so she could drop off her bag. "The headmaster has been informed of our departure." Snape inquired and Hermione nodded nervously, throwing her bag around the corner of her bedroom and grabbing her dark grey cotton winter coat of the hook.

They left the dungeons once more and the crunching sound of the snow beneath their feet carried them off the Hogwarts grounds and through the gates. "Remember what I taught you." Snape lowly said, and Hermione nodded. "Mind closed, expression blank and confidence high." She recalled and he nodded, stretching out his arm and Hermione took it, inhaling deeply as they apparated on the spot.

The big mansion came into view once more, looking like a haunted place with the grimness surrounding it. There was a Death Eater guarding the gates once more, opening as soon as they arrived in front of it.

Hermione kept her head held high, using Snape's presence as her comfort that allowed her breathing to relax. They walked up the stairs, both their movements swift as her feigned confidence led her the way. Her eyes glided over the room for a second, taking in the disapproving faces of the Death Eaters. Obviously they were highly against the plan of making a Muggleborn one of them.

They took the same seats as last time she had been there, and this time, she allowed herself to look at the foul man sitting at the head of the table. A nasty grin displayed all his rotten teeth, his shrilly voice echoing around the room. "Hermione, Severus, how pleased I am to see you both."

"I'd like not to waste this fine evening on chit-chat, however, so let's get straight to it." Voldemort went on and beckoned to Hermione to follow him. Taking one deep breath, she kept her face blank as she got out of her seat and walked around Snape to stand in front of Voldemort who had gotten out of his own seat as well.

She now had a good view of the endless long table with all the Death Eaters, but she merely glanced at them before returning her focus on the man she hated most.

"Your arm, Hermione." Voldemort instructed and Hermione lifted her left arm, clenching her right fist to control any trembling. It took every ounce of her being to not pull her arm away in disgust as his long, thin fingers enclosed around it.

His wand pointed at a spot right beneath her elbow, muttering incantations underneath his breath. A sudden burn pierced in her left upper arm, and digging her nails into her right hand, she refrained from screaming as the burning feeling prickled in her upper arm. The black ink was making its way into her skin. There really was no turning back now that the Dark Mark was forming.

His hand tightened around her forearm as the fire of the fireplace reflected in the slits of his eyes, a combination of satisfaction and confusion written on his face. The burning sensation slowly died away, until it was only left tingling.

This was it. She was officially one of them now. Daring to shoot one brief look at the Dark Mark imprinted on her forearm, she quickly turned her head away in disgust. Voldemort continued muttering, his wand pointed at the Dark Mark.

Removing his hand from her forearm, she released a breath that she didn't know she was holding and watched how the jet black ink faded into her arm, leaving a faint mark behind.

"Now, shall we see if it functions alright?" Voldemort asked with a sly laugh, the high sound of his voice piercing through her bones.

He wrapped his hand once more around her arm and pointed his wand at the mark and it started to burn once more, although not as bad as it did before, but most certainly unpleasant nonetheless. The Mark started to move and Voldemort moved his head to the others.

"Show me your Marks." He drawled and Hermione watched how everyone rolled up their left sleeves, holding up the same burning mark. Her eyes drifted slowly to the man on her left, watching how her husband looked at her with an unreadable face. In a very slight movement, his eyes turned stern, and she suddenly realized why.

Composing her facial features, she turned to look back at Voldemort with the same confident face she walked in with. But all faltered when Voldemort had let go of her wrist and told Wormtail to bring in their guest.

She had been a fool to think that was all to it. Of course getting the mark wouldn't suffice as enough to show your true loyalty. Or at least, not enough in her case.

Taunting smiles formed on the Death Eater's lips as Wormtail pushed a young woman forward, obviously Muggleborn by the outfit she was wearing.

Hermione's eyes fearfully switched to Snape's, but as he remained expressionless, he gave her a curt nod.

Licking her dry lips, she watched as the woman's face glistened because of the tears forming down her cheeks. Her red hair tangled and her lips dry.

"Prove your loyalty to me, Hermione." Voldemort circled around her and she could hear the smirk in his voice. "Kill her." Hermione swallowed, and went the situation over in her head as she watched the struggling woman.

There was no possible escape from the matter. If she'd refuse, she'd put her life on stake as well as Snape's. If she did go trough with it, they would be safe and she wouldn't make Voldemort doubt her.

But she would be a killer.

Hermione turned to Snape again, hoping that perhaps he'd show a sign of being able to put a stop to it all. But as his face remained blank, she knew there was no way out.

Gone was her confidence as she reached for her wand in her jeans, shaking as she brought it up to the woman.

Was this honestly the way her life was going to turn out? What did she do in the first place to deserve being put in this position? Just a few months ago she had been in an arranged marriage, practiced for dear life to safe both their lives, and now.. she had been willing to take the Dark Mark, although she did it with a heavy heart. But taking another one's life?

"Kill her." Voldemort hissed excitedly and Hermione bit back her tears, the muttering of the incantation almost inaudible. Yet, the green light shooting from her wand was unmistakable, the thudding drop to the ground piercing through every bone in her body.

"You did well, Hermione." Voldemort whispered in her ear and Hermione tasted the blood from biting her lip, willing herself not to cry – not to scream. "Nagini," the snake glided over the floor as it approached its master, "dinner." In one single strike, the snake reached the woman as it began feeding on her body.

Hermione ripped her eyes away, not wanting to witness the tearing of limbs. "Wormtail, bring Hermione her clothes." Wormtail bowed, "Yes, master." He squeaked and hurried out of the room, only to reappear a few seconds later, handing the pile of clothes to Voldemort with a deep bow.

"You shall be wearing this from now on, whenever I see you." Voldemort said and shoved the clothes into her arms. Hermione gave a curt nod, not trusting her voice to speak. "You're all dismissed." He announced and she turned to Snape, waited for him to get up and then walked out of the room with him as fast as they could.

Clutching to the clothes, she embraced the hand on her back as he guided her out of the house, making their way through the gates and disapparating as soon as she got hold of his arm.

When they arrived back on the Hogwart's grounds, she didn't bother holding in her tears any longer and let them easily flow as they moved through the shadows of the corridors. The excited chatter from the Great Hall getting her sick to the stomach as she didn't feel an ounce of happiness in her body.

Snape muttered the password to his quarters and showed her to the couch, where she gladly took her seat as she threw the clothes she carried into one of the chairs near the couches.

Bringing her head to her knees, she buried her face in her legs as she silently sobbed. How much exactly did she need to do to grant their safety? And was this only the beginning to it all?

An innocent woman had just been killed, and the blood was on her hands. A murderer, that's what she was now.

Lifting up her head, she wiped her tears away with the use of her sleeve, looking at the man that had taken a seat next to her. "Did you have to.. kill someone.. when you..you know.." Hermione trailed off, her voice hoarse and the tears blurring her vision.

Snape carefully shook his head, observing her as she tried to control her ragged breathing. "It appears that the Dark Lord has taken advantage of your weakness when he had the possibility." A strangled sob escaped her lips and she dug her nails into her skin, willing herself to not fall apart in front of her husband.

"I killed.. an innocent woman." Her crying intensified, and she knew she must have looked terrible with her tear-stained face, mouth hanging open as she loudly cried. "T-tell me, Severus, please, how much more do I need to do for the sake of this marriage?" Hermione stuttered as she pushed the words out.

He looked rather uncomfortable, yet she wasn't quite sure if it was because she was crying or because of the situation they were in, or perhaps because of both. "I fear that this is only just the beginning, Hermione."

Without a care in the world, she flung her arms around the teacher's neck, noticing how his body suddenly tensed, yet he didn't seem to fight her off. Normally she would make sure she didn't lay a finger on him, but she was in desperate need of physical comfort, and he just happened to be the unlucky person that was around her.

His body remained tense and his arms laid firmly next to his sides, and after a couple of seconds of silent sobbing, she debated on retreating, but then his arms carefully found her waist as he wrapped them around her.

Slowly, her sobbing died down and she was left feeling absolutely nothing. No happiness, no guilt, not any emotion at all. Sighing, she slowly pulled back from her death grip on her husband and cleared her throat awkwardly as she scooted back into her part of the couch. "Sorry about that.." Hermione mumbled and he looked just as awkward as she did.

"Don't worry about it." Snape assured her and she nodded, her eyes trailing to the clothes on the chair. There it was again, the sickening feeling. Although, she nearly realized too late that it was now creeping up into her throat.

Clasping a hand to her mouth, she sprang off the couch and made a run for it to the bathroom, not being able to close the door behind her as she headed straight for the toilet. Unable to stop it, she let it all out as the images of the dead woman soared through her head.

She was utterly disgusted with herself as she was reminded of the fact that it were her lips that had spoken the incantation, her wand that carried out the deed and her arm that now held the Dark Mark.

When she was certain that the burning feeling in her throat died down, she flushed the toilet and stuck her mouth underneath the tap, cleansing her mouth with the smooth water.

Turning around, she saw him staring at her as he leaned against the wall as he waited for her to come out. "Dumbledore said he wanted a word with us when we returned." Snape informed her and she nodded absentmindedly. "I can, however, always tell him we'll meet him tomorrow." He proposed but she shook her head, "No, I don't want to vividly relive it once more tomorrow." Hermione softly spoke and he nodded in understanding.

Hermione caught sight of her reflection in the mirror as she walked out; noticing how pale her face seemed, her eyes puffy from the crying.

They left the dungeons once more that evening, walking silently through the corridors as the Great Hall had turned quieter. A hand slipped in hers and she looked down at their entwined fingers, happy to feel the gentle squeeze he gave her as they walked their way up the castle.

Snape knocked on the door once and didn't wait for Dumbledore's invitation as they barged into the office together.

Dumbledore eyed them both and looked at their entwined hands, yet neither of them felt the need to let it go. "Miss Granger, how are you feeling?" Dumbledore kindly asked her and she stared at her headmaster with disbelief in her eyes, but then realized he didn't know yet that she had to kill someone.

"I don't know, professor. How would one feel after killing an innocent woman?" Hermione's voice was cold, and entirely unlike her own. But she didn't feel like pretending, did not have the energy to play the polite school girl.

Dumbledore's eyes widened greatly, and before he had the chance to speak, Snape had matched her equally cold voice as he spoke: "I told you before, headmaster, that you ask too much of people." Dumbledore's face fell as he cowered back in his chair. "I did not think he'd go to those extremes."

"Didn't you? Of course, it would be remarkable indeed for the Dark Lord to let a young girl kill right in front of anyone to see." Snape sneered with sarcasm and Hermione swallowed, her eyes falling to the ground as she figured it was an unspoken fight between the two of them.

Choosing to ignore Snape, he addressed Hermione softly, his features having turned more serious than she had ever seen it. "I am terribly sorry for what you had to do, Miss Granger." She cleared her throat softly, and spoke tonelessly: "So am I, sir."

And with that, she turned around, dropping Snape's hand as she walked out of the office. There was no need to say more, to explain what happened not long ago. As she was walking through the corridors, she had never felt more out of place than she did now.

A pair of robes rustled over the ground and Hermione looked to her left, making brief eye contact with her husband. He gave her a curt nod, which she returned. Letting out a humorless laugh, she shook her head. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, was the Muggle saying. Who would have thought that those would be the words she'd live by from now on?