His heart thudded in his chest, far too fast.
Severus took the steps two at a time, adrenaline pumping through his veins. His mask and cloak dangled from his fingers, dragging up the stairs behind him. The stark difference between old world and new registered somewhere in the recesses of his mind. Never would he have been so brazen as to openly declare himself as a Death Eater.
He hopped over the vanishing stair and candles flared to life along the walls of the corridor.
The night had been a disaster.
Oh, he had done what he had set out to do — the attack on the Order of the Phoenix had gone ahead based on the information he had carefully crafted. His final curtain call as an agent for the wrong side was complete, the deed hopefully enough to secure his place at the Dark Lord's side for a while longer. He had outlived his usefulness as a spy, his final days to be spent in open warfare against the Light.
Not that it mattered now. Severus was done hiding what he was.
He had been prepared to get his hands dirty. He had been prepared to openly fight against the Order, while keeping an eye out for Potter. He had to make it believable, after all. What he hadn't been prepared for, however, was just how much he enjoyed it.
The thrill of being on a broom, flying fast and hard was unmatched. In a completely reckless move he had thrown his hood back just to feel the wind through his hair. And when the fighting broke out, it hadn't taken much for him to lose himself over to the battle completely. All the training he had been through in his youth came back to him on instinct; ignore their faces, lock away the memories, and fight.
He had kept enough sense about him to aim away from any of the Potter decoys, but he was otherwise indiscriminate in his approach. Order members and Death Eaters alike felt the power at the end of his wand.
Until the moment he saw the unmistakable shape of Corbin Yaxley advancing on Lupin and one of the Potter decoys. He should have left well enough alone. As much as he loathed to admit it, Lupin was a proficient fighter. He didn't need help. But lifeless green eyes burned bright in his mind and fear twisted in his gut.
The thought clouded his judgement and he blindly cast, but his aim was wildly off. In horror Severus watched as it missed Yaxley completely and struck the decoy on the side of the head, severing their ear completely. The decoy slipped from their broom and Severus forced himself to pull up and fly in the opposite direction.
Even hours later the thought made him sick. The desperation of wanting to help, wanting to tilt his broom into a dive and go after the Potter decoy was strong. He could still feel the sheer terror of wondering if he had, in fact, hit the real Potter.
It wasn't Potter. They knew now that he had been travelling with Hagrid.
It still didn't make his actions any better.
Severus knew the effects of the curse that he had created. Without the proper counter-curse, the other person would bleed out. Which meant that it was now likely that he was responsible for three deaths before the summer was out. And they had barely even begun. Odds were that it was likely a Weasley, but there was no way he could have been sure.
It could have easily been her.
'And just where have you been?'
Minerva's accusatory tone cut through the stillness. He rolled his eyes and carried on en route to his office. The sounds of her footsteps echoed off the walls as she hurried to keep up with him.
'Out.' In a petty move, he quickened his steps.
'Yes, I gathered as much,' she panted. 'It's always the same with you. Gone for hours, leaving the defence of the school to us, returning every night smelling like a tavern.'
'But you can defend it, can you not?' He pointed out. He hadn't turned around but he could practically hear the steam coming out of her ears.
'Well, yes…but…'
'Then I fail to see the problem.'
She made a disgruntled noise. 'The problem, Headmaster, is that you ordered the entire teaching staff to Hogwarts, weeks before they are required. Then you refuse to allow them to leave the castle for bloody supplies!'
The corner of his mouth twitched in amusement. A very small part of him took pride in the fact that he could reduce the prim and proper Gryffindor lion to foul language.
They both came to a standstill in front of the gargoyle.
'I do believe that is the beauty of being the Headmaster, is it not? I give the orders, and you obey like the good pups you are.'
Her nostrils flared. 'We could leave, and then you'd have no staff to order around.'
He tilted his head to the side, appraising her. 'You and I both know that would never happen.'
Because the staff cared far more about the wellbeing of their students to ever dream of leaving.
Besides, even if they did try to leave, the Death Eaters and dementors waiting outside the castle gates would return them back to their post. It was a lose, lose situation, really. After the tragic death of Charity Burbage he would take no more chances. It was his own idea to demand the other professors return to Hogwarts at once, not the Dark Lord as he had told them. Couldn't they see that he had only done it to protect them?
No. Without Dumbledore Severus was a permanent outcast. By killing the only person who believed him, he made assurances that he would never again be welcomed back into the Wizarding World.
'You still haven't hired a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher,' Minerva commented, clearly trying a new tact.
He had, actually. But telling the staff was a headache for another day.
'There are… prospects.'
'Well make a decision already. The book lists have to go out at least three weeks before term starts, or have you forgotten?'
Severus crossed his arms and tapped his boot against the floor.
'I also need you to sign off the new list of Prefects,' she continued. 'Have you considered my suggestion for HeadGirl?'
'The Ravenclaw Patil girl…'
Minerva adjusted the sleeves of her garnet robes. Severus noted in annoyance that her wardrobes of late made a particularly political statement. 'Yes, Padma. She's sensible and well liked. She'd be an excellent choice.'
'I thought we agreed on Miss Parkinson,' he frowned.
She gave him a sharp look. 'You've already appointed Mr Malfoy as Head Boy. We cannot have two Slytherin's.'
He fought the urge to rub away the tension growing at the base of his neck. 'For the second time in this conversation, I must remind you who the Headmaster of this school is. Or are you growing senile in your old age.'
Minerva drew her shoulders back, suddenly appearing much taller. 'Don't you get smart with me, boy. I've been teaching at this school longer than you've been alive.' She crossed the distance between them and jabbed him in the chest with her finger. 'Now you listen here. I've let a lot of things slide,' she cast an eye at the Death Eater mask still dangling from his hand. 'But you made a promise to uphold the traditions of this school, and I intend to keep my own oath to see that you do!'
Severus ground his teeth together, his jaw stiff.
The old witch threatens your position. She deserves to be tossed off the Astronomy Tower like her companion.
He shoved down the thing inside him. He couldn't get rid of Minerva. Despite the hatred she felt for him now, he needed her. Her presence would help keep the peace with the students.
'Miss Parkinson stays. Give Ernest Macmillan the position of Head Boy.'
Minerva pressed her fingers against her breastbone. 'Instead of Mr Malfoy? You're certain?'
No. But Macmillan was pure blooded, and he could manage Lucius better than Parkinson. And it was probably in Draco's best interests to keep his head down as much as possible.
'Anything else?' He asked dismissively, angling himself towards the gargoyle.
'Actually, yes.' A crease formed between her brows. 'Charity still hasn't responded to a single owl.'
His stomach clenched uncomfortably.
'I'd like permission to go visit her.'
'No,' he replied sharply.
Minerva shook her head. 'Severus… you know as well as I do that it's entirely unlike her. I'm worried that because of what she wrote in the Prophet and what she teaches…' she trailed off, her face pailing as she glanced at his mask again.
Severus followed her gaze and lifted the mask, casually wiping away a smudge of blood with the sleeve of his robes. 'Such was her choice.'
'How can you be so callous,' she whispered, her voice strained.
He shrugged his shoulders. 'Goodnight, McGonagall.'
Inside the sanctuary of his room he banished his cloak and mask into the wardrobe before pouring himself a glass of firewhisky and settling in front of the empty fire.
Charity's face, tear and bloodied, was burned into his retinas.
Severus… please…
Her desperation rubbed his skin raw.
It wasn't a lie, what he had told Minerva. It was bad enough that Charity taught Muggle Studies, but when she had written that piece for the Daily Prophet, suggesting pure bloods must marry muggle-borns to secure their futures… She had practically begged for the Dark Lord to go after her.
With a roar Severus threw his tumbler into the fire, the whisky causing the flames to spark and flare. He lurched forwards and pressed his palms into his eyes.
Charity. Albus. The Potter decoy.
And that didn't even come close to the other muggle deaths he had witnessed those past few weeks. Each one dying in a horrid, unnecessary way, tortured at the hands of his so-called brothers. And for what gain?
Death and decay flooded him, punching a hole in his gut.
How was he supposed to keep a population of children alive when he could barely keep his own head above the water? It was too much for one man to handle.
He groaned and slouched back into the depths of his armchair. As much as his task pained him, it still didn't compare the one that lay ahead of Harry Potter. Hunting down the remaining shards of the Dark Lord's soul would be near impossible. At the very least, he would have Weasley and Granger by his side.
Sliding his hand into his robes he dug around in the pocket until he came upon a crumpled piece of parchment. His fingers had traced the wrinkles so many times it was beginning to smooth out like a piece of soft cloth.
He didn't need to read it to remember the words that had been crossed out furiously in indigo ink.
Why? She had asked.
He had asked himself the same thing so many times now, he wasn't even sure he knew the answers anymore.
The great chimes of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry rang several times, echoing off the empty corridors. They grated Severus' nerves and shivers of dread down his spine.
He sat behind the Headmaster's desk, his head in his hands. Slowly, without much energy, he flipped open his silver pocket watch for the fourth or fifth time that evening. The Hogwarts Express was due to arrive in less than one hour's time.
The castle had been a flurry of activity that morning full of last minute staff meetings and detailed instructions to the lesser Death Eaters assigned to him. As was becoming the custom, Alecto and Amycus required reigning in for acting well beyond their stations and upsetting the house elves again. How someone could upset such fickle little creatures was beyond him.
And then of course there was Minerva with a shoulder colder than Merlin's left ball sack in a snowstorm, constantly knocking at his door, trying to micromanage him as if he was a bloody idiot.
Maybe he was.
He'd lost count of the number of times he had considered snapping his wand and running off to Canada. Somewhere entirely remote where he wouldn't have to deal with imbeciles.
He realised that dusk had long since fallen and lit the candles with a flick of his wand. He instantly regretted it, as they illuminated the portraits of the Headmasters who held office before him. He was nothing like them. A fake, the portraits continually reminded him.
All but one.
Dumbledore's frame stood silent and empty. Severus didn't know if it was a blessing or a curse. He had tried, wildly unsuccessfully, to set the blasted thing on fire one evening after too much to drink. A shiny burn to his right knuckles served as a lesson that the portraits were not only secured with a permanent sticking charm, but also repelled whatever spells were thrown at them.
Even in death Dumbledore taunted him.
There was a knock at the door and he groaned, pulling a vial of headache potion out from his desk drawer. He swallowed the pleasant fuck off on the tip of tongue along with the contents of the potion and barked, 'Enter.'
Amycus Carrow stepped inside the room, followed by two-lesser Death Eaters who had yet to take a mark. Severus blinked several times as the headache began to dissipate. He swore they were getting younger every time.
Wait. Hang on. That was—
'Terence Higgs,' Severus grunted, mildly surprised.
The boy, who could scarcely be more than twenty, shuffled on his feet, clearly unsure of how he should act. 'Sir.'
Severus sighed and looked up at Dumbledore's blank portrait. 'He mocks me. I ask for aid and he sends me children,' he muttered under his breath. 'How on earth does he expect me to run a school under such conditions.'
Higgs looked horrified. 'Professor Snape, I mean… er, Headmaster, sir—'
'Quiet,' drawled Severus, holding up a hand. Amycus snickered at the boy's obvious distress. 'I assume preparations are underway?'
Amycus gave a brief nod. 'The students are due to arrive shortly. All Mudbloods will be sorted and processed as they enter the Entrance Hall, before joining the feast.'
Severus' cheek twitched at the slander. 'And what of the students who don't wish to swear fealty to our Lord?'
'Those of age are t'be taken straight to the Ministry fer questioning. Those under aged can join them or have their wand snapped,' Amycus grinned.
Severus sent a plea to Merlin they would all be sensible and at least make the effort to lie.
'Good.'
Amycus scratched his nose. 'Is that it?'
Severus peered down his nose at the small group. 'I want to remind you that not a single hair is to be harmed on those student heads unnecessarily. They are students, not chattel, and we have a duty to keep them from harm. Now,' he waved a hand in dismissal, 'get going, all of you.'
Amycus rolled his eyes and bowed once before leaving.
Severus glared at the empty portrait. 'Any last words or advice?'
Silence came back to him and he scoffed before heading down the spiral staircase himself. He was halfway across the Entrance Hall when Minerva stepped from the shadows. He had the sneaking suspicion she had been skulking around the school in cat form again.
If she wasn't careful he was going to throw her and Mrs Norris in a room and let them battle it out.
Actually, that wasn't a half bad idea.
'The students will be here soon,' she murmured.
'Are they? I was just on my way to spend a lovely evening in Hogsmeade, if you care to join me?'
There was a split second when her mouth twitched in amusement, as though she had forgotten their new roles. It left him with an acute feeling of homesickness.
Minerva shook her head. 'Severus, be serious! There's still time to make things right. You don't have to go through with this.'
His breath caught in his chest. The thought was tantalising – handing everything back to Minerva and pushing the Death Eaters out of the castle… he could do it. With the help of the other professors it would be so easy.
But the Dark Lord would retaliate, Hogwarts would be under attack, and all of his sacrifices would be for nothing.
Severus inclined his head. 'Alecto will collect the first-years.'
He wasn't prepared for the devastation on her face. 'But that's my role. I've done it for years.'
'It's the role of the Deputy Head to bring new students into Hogwarts, is it not?' He smoothed a crease out of the front of his robes, his eyes glinting. 'I seem to recall appointing Alecto and Amycus into the position not too long ago. Therefore, it is only right that one of them welcomes our new students.'
Minerva's face turned a deep shade of purple.
Amycus came sprinting into the Entrance Hall followed by Higgs. Amycus bent over to brace his hands on his knees as he gulped in deep breaths. 'Sir, there's been… an incident.'
'So why are you bothering me? Take care of it,' Severus seethed.
'Yes… er… well, I think you want to know about this.'
Severus unfurled a hand in front of him, urging the man to continue.
'A group of our brothers were searching the train—'
Severus nearly growled in anger. 'And exactly why were they searching the train? There are unaccompanied children on that train. We agreed they would go nowhere near them until after they arrived.'
Amycus sucked in another great breath before righting himself, straightening his robes. 'You don't call the shots on everything, Severus,' he replied coolly, his lip curling. 'They were there on orders by the Dark Lord, searching for Potter.'
Severus bit the inside of his lip to keep his temper in check. How could he possibly keep some resemblance of control when he was constantly being undermined!
'Well then,' Severus spat, 'did they find him?'
'Who?'
'Potter!'
'Ah.. er… no. Y'see, that's why I'm here. It's just that… well…'
Higgs glanced at Amycus and stepped forwards. 'It's Hermione Granger, sir. They found her on the train.'
There was a high pitched ringing in his ears, a heavy feeling settling into his limbs that made his legs weak and fingers tingle.
The entire world came to a standstill.
Granger.
'Miss Granger? Are you sure?' Asked Minerva.
He sucked in a breath, but it wasn't enough to ease the tightness in his chest or the ache in his stomach.
'Are you calling me a liar?' Amycus challenged.
Granger with her hair larger than life; her bright disposition made up of equal parts passion and curiosity, the relentless need to always understand why.
He swallowed against the thick lump forming in his throat.
'Where is she,' he gasped, his voice cracking.
'Don't you take that tone with me,' Minerva snapped.
'Shut up!' he bellowed. Minerva and Amycus froze, their eyes.
Severus could barely think over the heavy thudding of his heart. 'Where is Miss Grange right now?'
'On the train, of course,' Amycus said, as though Severus were an idiot. 'Dolohov's got her.'
No. The darkness reared its ugly head. Something in him snapped.
'Get a message to the train. Upon arrival, Miss Granger is to come directly to the Headmaster's office. Not to the feast, not to her dorms. Do you understand?'
'Yes sir.'
'And Amycus… If I find out that she's been harmed, there will be hell to pay.'
'What do you care about some damn mudblood?'
Severus bit down on his tongue so hard he tasted blood. The pain grounded him, bringing him back into reality. 'Regardless of her affiliations, Miss Granger is a student of this school. She must be treated as such.' When Amycus didn't move, he snarled, 'now!'
Disbelief clouded his vision. She shouldn't be here.
She couldn't be here.
'The next time I see that little Mudblood bitch I'm going to make her scream,'Dolohov had vowed.
'I will accompany Miss Granger upon her arrival,' stated Minerva, her tone leaving no room for argument.
'You will do no such thing.'
'She is a pupil of my house,' she cried, her arms folding across her chest in defiance.
Severus pressed his fingernails into the palm of his hand to stop himself from lashing out at her. 'Fine.'
Depending on what was left, he might need someone to fight in the poor girl's corner.
The thought left him feeling as though he might be sick all over the Entrance Hall floor.
He sat in the Great Hall, disoriented and uncomfortable in his place at the centre of the High Table. Amycus sat on his right, Alecto on his left, like devils on his shoulders.
There was a palpable stillness to the hall, the ceiling swallowed up by dim and stormy clouds. It accurately reflected the thick melancholy that had settled over the students like fog. It was a stark contrast to the last days of term, when the future seemed bright and possible.
There were gaps along the benches… holes where students had not returned, either because their parents didn't allow it or because it was too dangerous. For once he could easily make out those who were muggle-born by the way the roundedness of their shoulders and the way their heads drooped towards their chests.
Three students had refused to swear fealty to the Dark Lord.
Three.
Logically it was such a small number, but he couldn't help but feel like he had failed them.
A second-year and fourth-year, both Gryffindors, had their wands snapped and were shipped back home on the train.
Seventh-year Hufflepuff Justin Finch-Fletchley had been carted away to the Ministry. According to Amycus, the boy spat in a Death Eater's face and passionately declared his loyalty for Potter.
Foolish child.
In the aftermath, Severus felt that he should have done more. He had sworn to protect them, after all. Instead, his thoughts were continually pulled to her.
Granger, who was in the castle several floors above him.
Granger, who's amber eyes taunted him as he lay in bed at night, staring up at the ceiling. Granger, who despite everything he had thrown at her had looked upon him with relief in that corridor outside the Astronomy Tower.
There was no plausible explanation for her return to Hogwarts. She should be out in the world, like they had planned, hunting down Horcruxes with Potter and Weasley. It was what he had trained her to do.
The unknown ate away at him like an infection. He had puzzled it over and over in his mind, trying to work out every possible reason for her presence.
Did it matter? Either way, he could never trust her again. Not after what she had done. Not after she had betrayed his trust with the werewolf of all people. Over the summer with time and space he had allowed himself to sink into a sort of half-truth version of her. He had tucked her transgressions away, knowing that he was unlikely to ever see her again.
But knowing she had returned brought everything crashing back. He could never forgive her.
He wanted her to feel even a sliver of the pain he had felt that night.
He couldn't wait any longer. He had to speak with her.
Severus stood up, and suddenly hundreds of eyes were on him. The hall fell deathly silent.
He swallowed once against the dryness in his throat. Of course. They were expecting him to speak.
'If you are looking for words of wisdom and hope, you'll not find any here,' he told them. 'I am not Dumbledore, nor do I agree with any of his foolish notions about a better world. This is your reality now.
'As you may have noticed, there have been some… changes to the staffing. Alecto and Amycus Carrow,' he glanced at the siblings at his sides, 'have taken up post as our new Deputy Headmaster and Headmistress. I hope you will join me in making their welcome satisfactory. Alecto will take on Muggle Studies, while Amycus will take over–'
'Where is Hermione Granger?'
His eyes darted up to see Dean Thomas standing up at the Gryffindor table.
'Sit back down, Mr Thomas,' Severus commanded, keeping his voice even.
But Thomas held his position, his fists clenched at his side. 'Not until you tell us where she is.'
'Mudblood filth,' Amycus hissed, just loud enough to be heard over the silence of the hall.
Ginny Weasley — of fucking course it had to be a Weasley — stood up beside Thomas, her eyes blazing. 'Don't you dare talk to him like that!'
'That's enough, Miss Weasley,' cut in Minerva.
Weasley pointed her finger accusingly at Amycus. 'But Professor they took Hermione! They hexed her until she bled and then dragged her off into another carriage.'
'Sit down at once!' Severus shouted, his lips curling over his teeth as his hands slammed down on the table in front of him. Thomas and Weasley lowered themselves into their seats. He channelled every inch of menacing Potions Master that he could muster and glared down his nose at the hall.
'The next person to speak a word out of turn will find themselves in a very sorry position. Dumbledore may have been lax with his punishments but I am far less forgiving.' A first year Ravenclaw at the top of the table whimpered. 'Miss Granger is currently in my office, under supervision. Now,' he waved his hand and the remainders of the meal vanished from the table, the key burning against his skin. 'Off to bed. All of you.'
Severus stood up, and was aware of McGonagall doing the same.
He didn't want to fight with her. Not in front of every student. Biting his cheek, he swept down through the centre of the hall, past the house tables, Minerva hot on his heels. As they passed the end of the Gryffindor table, she stopped to speak with Longbottom.
He didn't wait for her.
He could feel his blood pounding at his temples in time with his quick steps. The thought of Granger broken and bleeding at the hands of another Death Eater made his skin crawl.
Higgs, Dolohov and two other lesser Death Eaters stood in the Headmaster's Office. In front of the desk in a burgundy jumper and mass of brown curly hair was a student with her back towards him.
He stopped at the door, his knees weakening.
Muggle-born traitor, whispered the thing inside him.
She didn't turn, but he watched as a deep shiver ran through her and her spine straightened at the sound of his footsteps.
'You may go now,' he said to Dolohov and the others, his eyes never leaving her form. Higgs nodded and left without another word, following the other two out.
'I'd rather stay, if you don't mind,' replied Dolohov.
Severus' gut churned as Dolohov took a step closer to Granger and rested a hand across the back of her chair. Granger visibly recoiled away from him.
He hated it. He hated the way Dolohov was leering down at her. Like she was prey. Severus wanted nothing more than to throw him down the spiral stairs and take satisfaction in hearing every bone in his body break, but he didn't have the same command over him as he did with Amycus and Alecto.
They were equals.
The corner of Severus' lip twisted up and he nodded. 'As you wish, Antonin.'
Slowly, he came around the desk and sat down, settling back against the great wing-backed chair.
It was fortunate he was sitting, as the feeling of being in her presence, actually seeing her knocked the wind out of his lungs.
His eyes raked over her, cataloguing the little things.
Her fingers interlocked tightly with each other in her lap, hiding the small tremor in her hands. A fresh bruise forming along her jawline. A bramble leaf caught in the front of her hair.
There was blood down the front of her jumper.
Before he could utter another word, Minerva burst through the door.
'McGonagall. Glad you could join us,' smirked Dolohov.
She strode past him to knock his hand away from the back of Granger's chair before dropping into a crouch.
'Miss Granger. Oh thank heavens, are you injured?' she asked quietly.
Granger shook her head, her curls falling in front of her face.
Minerva tsked, gently reaching out to touch the girl's chin. 'This blood...'
'It's not mine,' Granger said, her voice soft. Minerva looked up at Dolohov, who shrugged.
'She put up one hell of a fight,' he chuckled, running his thumb along his bottom lip. 'She took down two of my men before I got to her.'
Pride swelled in Severus' chest.
'Kitten thought she had claws,' Dolohov continued, 'but she was easy enough to tame in the end.'
Severus ignored them. 'Miss Granger.'
Her breath hitched. Minerva moved to the girl's side.
'Miss Granger,' he urged, his voice dropping to a silky purr, 'look at me.'
She raised her chin, her eyes bright with a cold defiance.
'Why are you here?' he inquired.
Her eyebrow twitched. 'Same as all the other students.'
Liar.
Dolohov kicked her chair, a move clearly intended to knock her off balance. Instead she shot him a glare over her shoulder.
'Don't play dumb,' Severus hissed. 'You're far more clever than that. Why have you returned to Hogwarts? Where is Harry Potter?'
She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back, wearing her bloody jumper and bruises like a badge of honour. 'How should I know? Aren't you lot supposed to be the ones with all the intelligence, sir?'
He wanted to reach across the desk and wrangle her little neck for her cheek.
He exhaled heavily through his nose, calming his nerves. 'When was the last time you saw him.'
Dolohov kicked her chair again. 'Answer him, girl.'
Minerva stepped in between them. 'That'll be enough of that. Touch Miss Granger again and I will hex you into oblivion. You may not have been a student of Hogwarts, but that is certainly not how we treat our students here.'
'No, at Durmstrang we teach our students respect. They speak when spoken to, less they face punishment.'
Severus cocked his head to the side. Granger hadn't taken her gaze off him once.
'Well?' He prodded.
'At Bill Weasley and Fleur Delacour's wedding. The night we were attacked by Death Eaters. But surely you know all about that.'
Yes, he knew about it well. It was the same night the Ministry fell into the Dark Lord's powers.
'And where did he go?'
She shrugged her shoulders. 'How should I know. I'm not his babysitter.'
Dolohov growled and swooped down on her, roughly pushing her chair back so hard the legs scraped against the stones. 'Enough of this, girl. Where. Is. Potter?'
Granger rose forward, her face centimetres from Dolohov's. 'I already told you, I don't know. Or does wearing Voldemort's mark somehow impact your hearing?'
There was a sharp sound as Dolohov struck her across the cheek, her head snapping to the side from the impact.
Minerva's wand was out in an instant, the tip pointing at Dolohov's chest. 'I warned you,' she growled.
Severus' fingers dug into the arms of his chair as he forced himself to remain impassive. 'Put your wand down.'
Minerva's eyes grew wild. 'I will not stand here and let a student be harmed! I won't allow it!'
Dolohov yanked up his sleeve, his dark mark practically glowing. 'We should call him. Surely we should be rewarded for our efforts.'
Granger slowly pressed a hand against her cheek and sat up. There was an unfocused, glazed look in her eyes. 'So do it,' she responded sluggishly. 'Get it over with.'
Her voice was flat; devoid of emotion as though the fight had suddenly gone out of her. Severus peered at her carefully and noted the sudden hollow look on her face.
'Don't you dare,' Minerva hissed.
'Wait,' commanded Severus. Granger's gaze flickered to him before looking back over his shoulder. 'There is another way.'
Minerva didn't lower her wand as he slowly stood and came around the desk, towering over Granger.
'What are you doing?' Minerva queried.
'Miss Granger, do you know what Legilimency is?'
Granger shrunk away from him, her face going white. 'No,' she whined.
Severus caught her arms and pulled her out of her chair. She writhed in his grip, trying to pull away from him.
'You can do it? You can see into her mind?' Dolohov asked.
Severus hummed and grasped her chin, tilting her head back to force her to look him in the eye. 'I will admit, I'm not as proficient as the Dark Lord, but my abilities should be enough to gain the truth from her.'
Granger quivered violently under his touch. 'Please. Don't.'
'Legilimens!' He felt the rush of magic behind his temples as his mind reached out for her own.
'Professor,' she breathed. There was something in her tone that made him pull back. She went incredibly still and Severus froze, teetering on the precipice.
Her eyes were a rich brown, her lashes long and thick. She had a small mole just underneath her left eyebrow. He watched in fascination as her pupils dilated; confusion and mild surprise growing on her face when she realised that he wasn't tearing in her memories like he had done before.
Her lips parted to draw in a breath and the minute sound was loud against his ear drums.
His skin broke out in gooseflesh, his body suddenly feverish. Severus pulled away from her at once, severing the connection.
Minerva's face was a thundercloud as she rushed forward to catch Granger.
'Well?' Dolohov demanded.
Severus stared at the girl unblinking, feeling incredibly off-balanced for the third time that evening. 'Professor McGonagall, take Miss Granger back to her dormitory at once.'
Minerva didn't need telling twice. She curled her arm around the girl's shoulders and gently led her from the room. Granger didn't look at him once.
He fell back against his desk and raked a hand through his hair.
'You let her go?' Seethed Dolohov.
'Yes. I let her go,' agreed Severus, his eyes trained on his office door. 'She was telling the truth. She knows nothing.'
Dolohov rounded on him, nostrils flaring. 'So you're letting her get away.'
Severus shook his head, trying to banish the sound of her breath from his memory. 'And where exactly am I letting her get away to? She can't leave, the school is surrounded by Dementors and Death Eaters. At the moment, she's exactly where we want her to be… away from Potter.'
Away from Potter, away from the Horcrux hunt.
The room tilted around him, the signs of his earlier headache returning. He rubbed his temples.
Hermione Granger, best friend to the boy-who-bloody-lived, had just put herself in the clutches of Death Eaters at the height of a war against muggle-borns.
What the actual fuck.
Author's Note:
First of all, I am SO SORRY for the delay in this chapter. November was fully of sickness bugs, work and university deadlines and then by the time I was able to get back to writing I had a massive case of self-doubt! Thank you all for you incredibly patience, and the lovely comments over the past few weeks, they all kept me going. I appreciate each and every one of you for sticking around :)
I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I certainly enjoyed writing it! How many of you figured she was going to come back? IT'S ALL KICKING OFF NOW!
Playlist:
Born for This, CRMNL
Burn the Witch, Queens of the Stone Age
