Bound to Him

by georgesgurl117

At the behest of Lord Voldemort, Severus Snape is forced to commit a deplorable act against one who should have been under his protection. Bound by Dark Magic, he and Hermione Granger must learn to trust one another and themselves as they work together to thwart the dark plots surrounding them.

91. Fighting Fire

A/N: Prep classes or finish an update? I know what I should be doing, but its not what I want to do. In honor of summer ending, here you go! I look forward to your comments bolstering me through the start of the schoolyear.

---

Bound to Him

Chapter 91

As Draco's back slammed against the floor, an amused titter broke out from the Lestrange side of the table.

Severus nearly choked on his wine when Narcissa's hand slapped into his lap. He glanced down at the iron grip she held on his thigh but opted to let it be after noting her ashen face. Praying for continued testicular safety, he returned his attention to the festivities.

At the head of the table, the Dark Lord boredly sipped his wine. That he had picked Rabastan to duel Draco spoke to the low expectations he had for the boy. Rabastan, though an experienced fighter, lacked the dangerous creativity that his elder brother displayed and was far more apt to adhere to dueling protocol than Bellatrix.

Dodging a binding curse, Draco rolled to his feet, then hurled an ornate vase at his opponent's head. The distraction allowed him enough time to retrieve his wand from where it had skittered.

Voldemort sat forward. "So, the whelp does have some spirit in him."

Bellatrix bitterly tossed back her drink, while her husband twisted in his chair to watch the duel more closely.

"Merely a matter of finding it, my Lord," Severus replied before taking a bite of his Vichy carrots. Though Narcissa pridefully raised her chin, she did not extract her claws from his leg.

Furthest from the Dark Lord, seemingly isolated given the combatants' empty chairs, sat Lucius. Like his wife, he had not touched the vegetable course. From his vantage, Severus observed slight movement of his lips but could not discern whether he was mouthing suggestions to his son, calling upon the Malfoy ancestors for protection, or lamenting the loss of a priceless heirloom.

Once plates were cleared away, the Dark Lord called an end to the fight. The duelists exchanged formal bows before reclaiming their seats across from each other. While Rabastan received some quiet ribbing from his brother for not seizing outright victory, it was clear that Draco – breathing heavily, favoring one side, and bleeding from minor cuts – had come away the worst of it.

"Well, boy," Voldemort smirked. "Does mummy need to kiss anything better?"

As Bellatrix cackled, Draco fought through his pain to sit taller in his seat. "No, my Lord."

Satisfied, the tyrant sat back and waved on the next course. After savoring a spoonful of the citrus ice, he delivered his verdict. "Severus, perhaps you're right. There may be some potential there, raw as it is. What say you, Rabastan?"

Finally, Narcissa offered an apologetic glance and withdrew her hand to her own lap.

Rabastan ceased picking at a wound on his hand. "He lasted longer than I expected, my Lord."

"His footwork needs attention," Rodolphus volunteered.

"Holding onto his wand might help, too," his brother chuckled.

During their critique, the dish of citrus ice in front of Draco moved just enough to catch his – and Snape's – attention. After meeting Lucius's eye, Severus subtly nodded to Draco. Already struggling to keep the rest of his supper down , the boy begrudgingly picked up his spoon.

"I still say the mudblood was more entertaining," Voldemort mused.

Severus smirked. "I cannot disagree, my Lord."

Draco frowned at his spoon after taking a small bite.

"Of course, you agree," Rodolphus leered, eliciting a chuckle from the Dark Lord. "She entertains you especially."

"Quite," Severus rolled his eyes. "That said, I've left Draco to practice on his own much of the time –"

"So much for mentoring him," Bellatrix mumbled.

"—as my priority has been the restorative draught." He flicked an annoyed glance at the witch. "After the Solstice, I will dedicate more time to his instruction."

Voldemort nodded. "It will be ready?"

Taking another tentative bite, Draco wrinkled his nose.

"Entirely on schedule."

As the Dark Lord quizzed Narcissa on the Solstice feast menu, Severus turned his head toward Draco, who stared pensively at his dessert. Grunting, the boy suddenly dug in despite grimacing at the taste. At the relieved look that soon settled on his face, Snape realized Lucius must have instructed the elves to lace his son's dish with pain reliever.

Quirking his lips in approval, Severus affirmed to the Dark Lord that Draco would again demonstrate his improvements the following week. In response, Bellatrix rolled her eyes and huffed.

"You do not approve, Bella?"

"It's the Solstice, my Lord," she simpered. "Instead of babysitting, we ought to enjoy the night! Welcome the Solstice with a bit of tradition."

"And which of your sister's gardens do you plan to set ablaze?"

"None, my Lord." Bellatrix tipped back with her wine. "Fire rituals cleanse the world of impurities. And while some of us have been sullying ourselves with Muggle…"

She leered at Narcissa, who stiffly averted her eyes to the floor. Snorting at the hypocrisy, Snape snorted at her hypocrisy and hoped the Dark Lord took the slight against Half-blood status very personally.

"…there are other vermin in need of extermination."

"Ottery St. Catchpole is full of vermin," Rodolphus suggested.

Fuck. Severus swallowed his wine slowly as he felt the weight of Voldemort's red gaze.

"Thoughts, Severus?"

"He's not invited," Bellatrix sloshed her goblet. "He'd probably warn the traitors."

I could warn them without attending, fuckwit. The sober glint in her eye, however, suggested she knew that and was deliberately baiting a trap. Uncertain how to play the situation, Snape decided to buy some time. "Personally, my Lord, I agree the Weasley's are aptly named –"

Lucius snorted in his wineglass.

" – and I wouldn't lose any sleep over the loss of an allegedly Sacred family." He paused to let that truth sink in before continuing, "I understand the middle son, Percival, has sacrificed familial ties for prominence in the Ministry. I imagine he would be amenable to a change in administration, should you wish to keep the Weasley line extant. Granted, he's among the least talented of his siblings and may produce equally obnoxious progeny."

"I see," Voldemort rubbed his chin.

The spy turned to Bellatrix. "I am curious how you're planning to set fire to the Burrow –"

"Of course, you are."

"—given that it's now Unplottable."

Bellatrix narrowed her eyes. "You're lying."

"Am I? By all means, pop off to Devonshire and take your time to investigate."

A grin flickered on Lucius's face as his sister-in-law practically oozed over the table. "And how would you know? Chatting up the Weasleys, eh?"

Severus raised his eyebrow. "Hardly. What I have been doing, Bella, is sullying myself with a Muggle, and she has been keeping tabs on them. On that note, my Lord, the girl is to meet with Potter and his pet Weasley tomorrow afternoon."

"Wonderful," Voldemort commented, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth more than he had the actual duel.

"We'll just torch the whole bloody region, then!" Bellatrix screeched. "Fiendfyre doesn't care what's Plottable and what isn't."

"Excellent idea, Bella," Lucius drawled drunkenly, though Snape suspected he was entirely sober. "We'll cleanse the Diggory, Fawcett, and Lovegood lines as well. They're hardly –"

"Shut up, Lucy," the witch hissed. "Wouldn't you rather be here watching Sevvy enjoy his new privileges?"

"Bella, please," Narcissa whispered. "Enough."

Holding his breath, Severus watched the Dark Lord contemplate the issue. He appreciated Lucius's assistance – while the tyrant may not bat an eye at wiping out one family, the violent demise of four families on a Wizarding holiday would irredeemably poison public opinion.

Finally, Voldemort scowled. "No. Our holds in the Ministry are tenuous after Dumbledore's assassination. Until it is undeniably under my control, we cannot be careless in our actions. Have your fun, but do not jeopardize our future for one night of merriment."

Thank Merlin.

Arms folded in a pout; Bellatrix glared at Snape. After a moment, she muttered, "They have that stupid shop."

"You want to Fiendfyre Diagon Alley?" Snape scoffed, prompting Lucius and the Lestrange brothers to laugh.

"I didn't say Fiendfyre, did I?" she protested. "Those idiots have a building filled with explosives. Who says they couldn't have a tragic accident?"

"An intriguing prospect, Bella," Voldemort sat forward as she preened. "If the Weasleys were to be blamed for any resulting damage, it would be a significant strike against the Order's reputation."

Shit's sake. Severus kept a neutral countenance and took another slow sip of wine.

Picking up his own goblet, the Dark Lord chuckled, "This will be fun."

XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX

"How can you even think in here?" Hermione looked about the charmed tent in horror. Every surface was littered with clothing, dishware, or rubbish. The kitchenette needed a good scrubbing, and she refused to enter the bathroom.

"Nice to see you, too," Ron mumbled.

Wrinkling her nose, the witch cast several deodorizing charms. "Your mother would have a stroke, Ronald."

"It's not just our fault! Bill and Remus haven't cleaned anything, either."

"Well, Remus hasn't been her for a week," Harry clarified. "Apart from dropping you off, I mean."

"But Bill has!" Ron protested. "Fleur's cleaned a few times, but she hasn't come around lately."

Harry cleared off a chair for her. "Sorry. We should've tidied up, but we've been busy."

"Right." Hermione eyed the Exploding Snap cards, chessboard, and Quidditch magazines left out in plain view. She cast a cleansing charm on the chair before sitting down. "Sorry. I really have missed you – tidy or not."

"Sure," Ron grumbled, as he and Harry dropped into the chairs across from her.

"So, how have you been?"

"We've been alright. It's not so bad being here with Ron. Remus has told us some stories about Sirius and my parents."

"That's really great, Harry," Hermione smiled, wishing Dumbledore had cared enough about Harry to let Order members check in on him over the years. It was not fair that Harry had been so miserable, nor was it fair to the Dursleys to let residual dark magic eat at them.

"Bill's been good for defense practice. He gives better feedback than Remus."

"To you," Ron snorted. "I notice he didn't turn your pants inside out."

Hermione cracked a smirk. "I'm surprised you noticed yours were."

Harry guffawed as Ron exclaimed, "He did it while they were on! Kinda hard to miss that!"

"I'm sorry," she giggled.

"It's alright," he sighed, hiding his grin.

"We've visited the Burrow a couple times, too, so we could fly and train out in the open," Harry added.

"Dad and Bill figured out how to charm the TV to work," Ron pointed to the small, ancient television set in the corner. "Course it only shows what they're watching if they're watching inside, which means it's usually incredibly boring."

Hermione nodded slowly. "Things are alright with the Dursleys?"

"They ignore us for the most part," Harry beamed. "It's been brilliant!"

Ron pulled a balled-up sock out from beneath him and tossed it out of view. "Had to kick Pigtail out a few times, though, before Bill altered the wards."

"Pigtail?" she frowned.

Harry snickered. "Hagrid gave Dudley a pig's tail once."

"Oh, right," Hermione smirked. "I forgot about that."

Ron nodded. "And Horseface tries –"

"Aunt Petunia," Harry explained.

"—sneaking and complains about the tent ruining her garden. But you should've seen her face when Bill first showed up! Thought she was gonna faint!"

"She doesn't care for Remus; she loathes Bill."

"Why?" Hermione asked. "Bill's polite enough."

"Ponytail? Fang?" Harry pointed to the back of his head, then to his ear. "She can't stand it. Even worse – Dudley's started dressing like him."

Her eyes widened. "You're joking!"

"I'm not! Guess he went shopping with his friends – or shoplifting, maybe? – and now it's dark jeans and band shirts."

"Think he's growing his hair out, too," Ron added. "Probably saw Fleur snogging Bill goodbye that one time."

Harry's eyes glazed. "Oh…yeah. That'd do it."

"Honestly," the witch rolled her eyes. "So…Pigtail and Ponytail, then?"

The boys laughed until Ron cleared his throat, "Well, aren't you going to ask?"

Hermione cocked her head. "Ask what?"

"What we call ol' Vernon!"

XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX

"We didn't really discuss anything important," Hermione explained to the Council. "Mrs. Dursley didn't care for my being there unchaperoned and asked me to leave."

"Asked?" Bill smirked.

"Well, demanded," she corrected. "But Harry promised he would owl me next week to meet again."

"No hints from either of them? They've been working on something they hide away whenever I get in."

She shook her head. "I assume it has to do with the horcruxes but was afraid to push them on it."

"That's alright," Minerva nodded. "They may be more forthcoming next week given events about to unfold. Severus?"

Snape inhaled deeply and uncrossed his arms before thoroughly explaining what transpired during Sunday's dinner. Ignoring several horrified reactions and muttered expletives, he watched the Weasley twins' silent communication.

Eventually, the pair returned their attention to the room. Fred slowly rubbed his hands together. "So, how caught unawares must we be? Caught in our underwear caught unawares, or…?"

Snape fought back a smirk. "Are you typically abed by midnight, Mr. Weasley?"

"Depends on whose bed," Fred mumbled, while George cracked a grin. "What does your gut tell you, Professor?"

"Experience tells us you're wide awake and scheming in the wee hours. I'd expect you ready to respond," Minerva commented, before fixing a look on Fred. "Trousers on, Mr. Weasley."

"I mean if our reputation's going to be trashed anyway, might as well have some fun with it."

"Who says it will be?" she countered. "Severus has only outlaid their plan, not ours."

George's brows peaked. "Oh ho?!"

"The Order cannot be seen assisting you during the fight," Minerva explained, "or it'll show Riddle we're less fractured than he assumes."

"And prompt him to question why we were ready," Moody flicked his gaze to Snape.

"Precisely."

"How many of them will there be?" Bill frowned. "I won't leave them unsupported."

"Aww," Fred cooed, while George rested his head on his Bill's shoulder.

"Nor will we," Minerva replied.

"Cannot be seen," Remus reiterated.

"Bill, you could be visible," the Headmistress clarified. "I presume you can manufacture a believable reason to be staying with your brothers. As for how many…"

Severus shrugged. "I can't say for certain. The Dark Lord assured me only five would enter the castle during the assassination yet…"

"We had nearly a dozen," she grumbled.

"What I do know is that Draco, Lucius, and I will not be among them, and they will not strike at one as they openly discussed. They'll also disguise themselves to give the careless accident narrative more credence."

"Dora will be on duty, but I will be there," Remus volunteered, followed quickly by Kingsley and Moody.

When Hermione opened her mouth, Severus quickly cut in. "There may very well be injuries to persons who weren't there and therefore cannot be treated at St. Mungo's. Depending on the severity, Granger, I think Poppy would prefer having another pair of hands."

"I would, yes," the Healer nodded.

"Hestia, can you monitor the record and ensure we go unnoticed?" At the witch's nod, Minerva glanced to the elder wizard in the corner. "Aberforth, I think I'd like you to stay in Hogsmeade. We know this is a test for Severus, but we cannot be certain they won't take their rabble-rousing elsewhere. So, we will only be seven strong –"

"Six," Moody stated firmly.

"The six of you plus myself makes –"

"You will be nowhere near Diagon Alley," he declared. "Don't harp at me, witch –"

Following Snape's lead, several wizards crossed their legs in case a hex went astray.

"—you're ringmaster. You above all of us cannot be caught in a firefight we know nothing about."

"If I'm to successfully keep you on when the Ministry falls, Minerva, I need to be able to convince the Dark Lord you've no ties to the Order," Severus agreed.

"Fine," Minerva huffed. "I do not like it, but I will deal with it. We will very likely be outnumbered, which makes it imperative that attention is drawn quickly, and that it is clear exactly who is to blame."

George shrugged, "We've got five days –"

" –we could cook up a Whizbang that says 'Voldie was here'," Fred finished.

Severus snorted. "The Dark Lord's already come up with one of those. It's proven quite effective at summoning Aurors."

"If their instructions are not to take credit, they aren't about to cast the Morsmordre," Remus frowned.

"Of course not. Which is why one of you will."

"Wicked," the Weasley twins whispered as silence slammed down upon the room; even the portraits gaped at the pronouncement.

Minerva grinned behind her hand and counted to ten before clearing her throat. "Thoughts?"

A cacophony of questions erupted.

Holding up his hand, Snape placidly answered them. "No, one does not need to be Marked to cast the spell. Only the Dark Lord's innermost circle are purportedly able to cast it because we are the ones he taught to cast it. Yes, it is possible to teach someone un-Marked to cast the spell, though doing so is undoubtedly punishable by death should the Dark Lord become aware. No, the Dark Lord cannot be certain of who cast it without checking wands, nor is he alerted to its being cast. And yes, the Dark Lord does get his knickers in a twist over unsanctioned use."

Moody pinched his eyes. "How do you know it can be taught?"

"Damien Wilkes taught it to his younger brothers, who were witnessed using it in August of '80. All three boys were subsequently killed."

"Wilkes died in a skirmish with Aurors."

"Which Aurors, and how did they catch him?" Snape challenged. "Those days, the Dark Lord didn't publicly broadcast when he offed one of his Marked. They encountered fatal accidents during assignments or simply… vanished."

Moody growled at the ceiling. "Ulton. He spotted Wilkes and killed him in an exchange before we could answer his call for assistance."

"Probably was dead before he even called," Severus murmured, while Kingsley frowned pensively at the carpet.

Astonished, Bill looked to the ex-Auror. "Do you recall the details of every incident you were involved in?"

"Yes," Moody huffed. "And most of the ones I wasn't."

Minerva sat forward. "When possible, Alastor, I want you to sit down with Severus. Without assaulting one another –physically or otherwise – I want you to compare recollections to see if you can identify any other suspicious persons. I know you and Kingsley are working on it, but I think you're missing critical perspective."

When the two men sullenly agreed, she stood. "It's time now to begin carrying untraceable wands. Before week's end, I want you all to explore the inventory we've been sorting until you find one that suits you."

"Before we move on," Kingsley raised his eyes to the Headmistress, "what if we change the narrative of the Diagon Alley attack, instead of merely correcting it? With a little luck and proper planning, I think we could discredit Ulton, send the Ministry into full crisis mode, unsettle Riddle, and even free Tonks from the faux task force."

Eyes burning bright, Minerva slowly sank back to her desk. "We're listening."

XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Gritting her teeth, Hermione rubbed burn cream on her right forearm. Though her wand was already unregistered, everyone insisted she carry a second. So far, none had suited her; they had, at best, produced lackluster charms. The last wand tested, however, had felt positively dangerous in her hand. On that alone, she should have known well enough to put it back in its case, but curiosity had gotten the best of her.

After bandaging her arm, the witch tugged down her sleeve and picked up the clipboard. She hurriedly completed the inventory to excuse her loitering about in the storeroom, then returned to the main infirmary in time to meet Kingsley, who was escorting a somber-faced Tonks. She glanced in confusion to the clock before recalling what had been discussed the day prior. "That was…fast. I thought tomorrow…"

"I intended to have today to prepare everything," the wizard nodded, "but seeing her… I didn't think it wise to risk another day."

Wincing, Tonks covered her face with both hands. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright," Kingsley squeezed her shoulder before returning his gaze to Hermione. "Can you look after her while I check in with Minerva? She wasn't in the office when we came through."

"Sure," Hermione watched Tonks wander off to the private room they had set up for her use. "I think she's in the Room of Requirement supervising –"

"Mad-Eye and Snape," Kingsley sighed before thanking her.

Worried, Hermione fetched Poppy before entering the room, where Tonks was curled up on the bed. A pillow was pulled over her face, and her body was shaking.

"Oh, dear," Poppy hummed, coaxing the pillow out of the Auror's hands and tucking it back beneath her head.

Embarrassed, Tonks tried to wipe away her tears.

"Would you like me to get Remus?" Hermione asked while Poppy began her assessment.

"Gods no," she shuddered. "He'll just worry…and I don't….I can't face him."

"Exhaustion, stress levels through the roof," Poppy murmured to Hermione, gesturing to the cupboard where they kept the Cheering Solution.

After Tonks took her dose, Hermione perched beside her on the bed. Though Tonks closed her eyes, the sniffles and tension in her body betrayed she was awake. When it became clear the potion had had minimal effect, Hermione looked up to Poppy in concern.

"For dementors, that should have worked better than a Calming Draught, but it's too late to change our mind," Poppy sighed. "I don't relish the thought of forcing sleep without relieving some anxiety, and I don't honestly know the risk of combining it with Dreamless Sleep –"

"Ask him," Tonks hissed.

At Poppy's nod, Hermione sent her mental Patronus.

'Shacklebolt just finished explaining, and Lupin is already out the door.'

She winced. But she doesn't want Remus here.

'I'm not throwing myself between a werewolf and his injured mate. How bad is it?' After she considered the situation, he growled. 'I'll be there. Mad Eye's hot on the wolf's hindquarters.'

"Severus is on his way," Hermione reported. "As are Remus and Moody."

Cursing, Tonks sat up and wiped her face. Hermione barely had time to stand before Remus burst through the door.

"You don't need to worry," the Auror tried to convince her husband. "I just need sleep, and I'll be fine. I promise."

"If it were just sleep you need, they'd have put you under already," he frowned, sitting beside her.

"They're working on it. Snape's to make the call."

"Snape? What for?" Moody stalked into the room. "He's no Healer."

"Nor am I a Potions Master," Poppy sneered. "I'd rather avoid poisoning her if you don't mind."

When McGonagall entered, Tonks grimaced. "How much've I ruined?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Minerva chided. "You haven't ruined anything. Kingsley planted the first fabricated report in Ulton's office when he requested you for the Muggle Minister's detail. It may not point to his involvement as strongly as a report he's signed off on, but it at least gets the Weasleys on record."

As Snape pressed past Moody to consult with Poppy, Tonks shook her head. "I'm sorry."

"There's nothing to apologize for," Remus squeezed her hip.

"I've only made it a week!" she groaned. "I still have three more days. At least!"

As Minerva reassured her, Hermione looked at Severus. "I don't understand. I brewed it the way you showed me."

Snape sighed. "The potion is useful for exposure to dementors; it is not as useful for persons targeted by dementors."

"What?" Moody grunted.

"I presume the dementors have been intentionally focusing on you instead of the inmates," Snape spoke to Tonks. "Wearing you down, feeding off of your happy memories, leaving you with –"

"Terrible, horrible thoughts," she whispered. "They're all I see, and I can't stop them."

"You can," he countered. "If your idiot cousin could thwart them, so can you. You need to protect yourself beyond the Patronus; you need to fortify your mind against them if you're going to return with—"

"She's not returning," Remus growled.

"The hell I'm not!"

Letting the couple argue privately, Minerva turned to the group. "I don't particularly want to send her back."

"Nor do I," Poppy frowned.

"She goes AWOL, Ulton will hang it all around her neck," Moody grumbled. "She'll be the one who hid the report from the Weasleys, preventing him from sending Aurors to investigate. She'll be the one who deliberately prevented bringing a fugitive to justice."

Snape rolled his eyes.

"Despite the accuracy of those accusations, we don't want them made," Moody continued. "Having another fugitive on our hands does not help our case now, and how will you possibly clear her name later?"

Poppy crossed her arms. "And if she dies because we wanted to save her reputation?"

"It's my life!" Tonks growled at her husband.

Irritated, Snape grabbed the chair and slammed it on the ground, silencing everyone mid-argument. "You may have all day to waste; I do not. Bicker all you want, but if I do not help Ms. Tonks shore up her mental defenses, it will prove a moot point."

"You're right, Severus," Minerva exhaled. We can revisit discussion this evening."

"Thank you," he sneered. "Now, everyone get out. This isn't a team sport."

As the others filed out, Remus remained seated. He ignored Snape's pointed stare but finally relented at his wife's quiet plea. With a kiss to the top of her head, he glared at the spy before exiting the room.

"Thank you," Tonks whispered.

Severus grunted, taking his seat. "I've cleared the room. You will clear your mind."

XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX

Leaving Tonks to sleep with half a dose of Dreamless Sleep and an anxious werewolf wrapped about her, Severus moved to the brewing lab where Hermione was working.

"How'd it go?" she asked.

"Clear enough that the Cheering Solution might stand a chance after she wakes. If she is to return for her shift tonight, I'd have her take another dose before she departs. We'll start working on rudimentary defenses tomorrow."

"Just one more thing for you to do." Hermione noted his stiff posture. "What's wrong?"

Pursing his lips, Severus stepped toward her. "Diagon is meant to be a test for me. If the Dark Lord humors Bellatrix – or if he just wants to shut her up on the subject – he will seek to ensure I cannot alert anyone of a change in time."

She paused in dicing black radish. "Right…"

"Which means there is a good chance the Dark Lord will call you to –"

"No!" she pointed the knife at him. "No!"

Severus pried the knife from her shaking hand and set it aside. As she pleadingly stared up at him, he ducked his head. "I'm sorry."

Turning around, Hermione braced herself against the countertop and took in several deep breaths. At the feeling of his hand on her back, she twisted into his chest.

"I hope I'm wrong. But if I'm not, you need to be prepared."

She wanted to protest but could think of no sensible argument to make. As his hand stroked her shoulder, she fisted her hands in his shirt and inhaled his scent.

"You'll get through it, and we'll be fine." Severus explained what he expected the Dark Lord would require and continued to hold her as she came to terms with it. Eventually, he pulled away, knowing he needed to return to the restorative draught. "Are you going to be alright?"

She sniffed and nodded her head.

With a sigh, Severus kissed her forehead before leaving the room. He updated Poppy on Tonks, then Flooed into the Headmistress's Office. The room was empty, but he trusted Minerva would check in with the infirmary.

"Severus."

Gripping the doorknob to the antechamber, Snape peered over his shoulder. Beyond shouting at him in a Council meeting, Dumbledore's portrait had never addressed him.

"If you have a moment… I would like to apologize."

Noting the portrait looked uncomfortable, Severus turned toward it. "For?"

"All of it; everything. Having been given new perspective…" To the portrait's disappointment, the Slytherin refused to acknowledge his play on words. Trying again, Albus cleared his throat. "Having been given new perspective, I can see now where I lost sight before. Minerva is right; I got lost in a game of strategy, and I forgot the human element involved."

Snape arched an eyebrow.

"The last few months, I cannot quite explain." Albus lowered his gaze to his painted hand, no longer blackened. "I could feel it eating away at me, corroding my conscience, but I was powerless to stop it. I couldn't… My demise, my corruption was inevitable. It frightened me, enraged me – and that fear and anger only fueled it further. I regret…"

The portrait's blue eyes fixed on the man's face. "I regret very much how you were treated. I cannot recall exactly what I did, or what I said to you – the influence of the curse, I believe, interfered as much with memory transference as it did my decision-making – but what motivated it was the fear that if the decay was left to fester, I would ruin everything I've worked to accomplish. Everything we have sacrificed for.

"I could not trust myself to stop it… but I trusted you would." Dumbledore gave a somber smile. "Out of everyone, you were the one I trusted the most. I knew you would not allow emotion or affection to blind you from the bigger picture. I knew you would do the right thing… to ensure that Riddle's destruction remained possible."

Severus swallowed heavily.

"About Harry…" The portrait hung his head. "I regret that you felt misled. I thought I could save him. I thought if he grew up in the Wizarding World, they would recognize him for what he was and destroy him. I needed time to devise a way to separate his soul from Riddle's because I could not accept they were irrevocably bound. I ran out of time. But you…

"If anyone can save Harry… it's you, Severus."

The wizard unconsciously took a step back.

"And I believe Lily would agree." Dumbledore straightened in his seat. "You haven't failed her. You haven't failed. I have the utmost faith in you."

Unable to speak, Severus pivoted and fled to the antechamber. He released his breath and stared at the dark wood door until he trusted himself to Apparate back to the cabin.

In the office, Dilys Derwent sniffed. "Damned decent of you."

Phineas Black sat back in his painted chair. "I still think you're a scheming turd."

XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX

"You're going back, then?"

Tonks looked up, then continued tying her boot. "I'm not giving those bastards the satisfaction of my quitting. They can bloody well fire me."

Hermione claimed the chair Snape had used. "Where's Remus?"

The Auror sighed and scratched her head. "Brooding. He's not thrilled, but I didn't marry him so I could stop making decisions for myself. I told him to go put his negativity to use by practicing the Mark."

"He's worried about you."

"I know that, and the full moon was only a few days ago, so his wolfy bits are more pronounced." She then cracked a smirk. "Behaviorally speaking, not, you know, his actual bits."

Hermione winced. "You must be feeling better if you're back to those sorts of jokes."

"I am, yes," Tonks reached for her other boot. "Amazing what real sleep can do. You know, your wizard can really clear a girl's head and wear her completely out in the process."

Blushing, Hermione looked away. "I am well aware."

"Now who's got those sorts of jokes?" Having finished lacing up her boot, she noted the nervous expression on the girl's face. "I'll be alright, love."

"I know."

"The Weasleys'll be alright, too." At her slow nod, Tonks frowned. "Something else wrong?"

Hermione stared down at her hands. "Severus thinks I'll be summoned."

"Oh, shit," she exhaled. "Because theoretically he could warn us through you."

Biting her lip, the young witch nodded.

"Come here," Tonks took Hermione's hand and brought her to sit on the bed. Draping her arm across the girl's shoulders, she ducked her head in close. "I'm sorry you'll have to go through that. What are you most concerned about?"

"Everything." Hermione took in a deep breath. "Severus thinks I'll have to duel Draco."

"Piece of cake. You'll wipe his own floor with him."

"And then will I have to punish him like I did Dolohov?"

"Ah." Tonks squeezed her arm. "If you do, I want you to remember something: You are an incredible human being, and you are a survivor. Sometimes surviving means having to do terrible things. I want you to take all those fierce arguments you make to defend Snape and apply them to yourself. Alright?"

Hermione nodded, then scowled. "I hate having him inside my head. And when he touches me…"

As tears welled up in the girl's eyes, Tonks wrapped her in an embrace. "I'm so, so sorry, sweets. I'm more than willing to share my head sessions with you if you'd like to practice."

"Thank you."

"Severus will be with you. I realize he probably can't do much there but… he'll be with you after, yes?"

Hermione sniffed, sitting back. "I think so. If he can, he will."

Tonks touched her face. "If he can't, or if he's not enough – call me. Or get McGonagall if I'm not here. Or Poppy. I don't want you dealing with it alone."

"Okay."

"I'd trade places with you if I could."

"No, thank you," Hermione coughed. "I really don't want to deal with dementors."

"Ha! Fair enough."

XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX

"Dora, have they ended your prison detail?" Minerva asked.

"Nope," Tonks popped. "Nor did they care to hear I thought the dementors were bucking their chains. They have, however, modified my assignment. Since I'm no longer on the task force, they've assigned me half-time to Kingsley's detail, and I'm Azzy-watch three nights a week. Williamson and Savage are to split the other four nights."

"I don't need extra help with the Muggle Minister's security, so use the time as you see fit," Kingsley smiled.

"Thanks, Kings. I'm not on watch Sunday night, so I can join the party in Diagon if you'd like."

"No," Minerva shook her head. "I'd prefer you on hand in Hogsmeade with Aberforth in case things go pear-shaped here."

"Alrighty. Drinking my sorrows in a dark corner of The Hogs Head seems on par for someone affected by dementors."

"On that note – working with Severus is going well?"

The Auror smirked, flicking her eyes to the Slytherin in the corner. "I've probably frightened the poor bastard with the contents of my head –"

"I'm familiar with the Black family predilections," Snape murmured. Behind him, Phineas Black puffed up his chest.

" – but I think it's been going well." Tonks tucked her dark hair behind her ear. "I'm not about to call myself an Occlumens anytime soon, but I can shut things up."

"Don't let him get too mouthy," Minerva smiled. "If you've forgotten my lesson on not being a horse's arse, Severus, she's likely as adept with Transfiguration as I am."

Snape rolled his eyes as Moody guffawed.

Tonks cracked a grin. "I'm not too concerned; between Hermione and I, we can take him. Getting back to this weekend, though, this morning I handed over the other reports with the rest of my stuff to Muggins, who turned it all into Ulton, who signed off on everything without reading it. Before I left, I witnessed him toss it all in the dead-end bin."

"Excellent," Minerva snapped her fingers, then pointed to the twins. "We have them filing three separate reports – two of them signed by Ulton – to the Aurory this week of suspicious activity at Ollivander's, and they've an appointment scheduled for Monday with the Missing Wizards Office to share their suspicions. So, now, when they respond to Weasley's Wizard Wheeezes burning under the Mark, it will look like an attempt to silence witnesses. And when they discover Ollivander's ransacked and burgled… heads will roll."

"Who's casting the Mark?" Bill asked.

"Lupin's is strongest," Severus answered. "The others' are passable should he be prevented."

"Ooh," Tonks pushed her husband's shoulder. "Top of the class."

Moving on, Minerva confirmed everyone had found a suitable second wand. "To ensure we're attuned with our new wands and that we'll recognize potential calls for assistance, I think it a good idea to each cast our Patronus. Some of ours have changed in recent months, and some may still yet, so I'd like us all to keep each other updated."

Hermione drew the slender length of fir from the sheath Snape had gifted her and rolled it over in her hands. It's core and length were the same as her vine wand, yet it felt heavier and somehow more mature. It had taken three days before she felt a connection. The vine-like etchings caught her attention as soon as she opened the box, and she knew before she even saw the shower of silver sparks that it was hers.

"Allow me to start." Minerva cast the charm, and a silver puma burst forth to prowl slowly about the room, flicking its tail, before sitting beside Snape.

"That's… new," Moody grunted before summoning his ram Patronus.

The Headmistress smirked at Hermione. "As I said – things change."

One by one, each member added their Patronus to the room. As Fred's chipmunk and George's squirrel chased each other along the back of the couch, Hermione took a deep breath before producing her new Patronus.

Jostling her elbow, Fred whispered, "Something you want to tell Kingsley, eh?"

"No." While the twins giggled, Hermione nervously glanced at Kingsley, who winked in sympathy, then toward Severus, who was watching Poppy's cow take shape. Hopefully, he would not read anything into the similarities between her bobcat and the Auror's lynx.

That certainly doesn't help. Hermione sighed, watching Tonks's dingo-like wolf playfully biting at Remus's much larger wolf.

As all eyes turned expectantly to Snape, Hermione held her breath. When he begrudgingly cast his Patronus, several people reacted in surprise – some at his ability to cast one at all; others at the form it took. She, however, stared numbly at the gentle doe that circled him, nuzzling his arm before leaping and disappearing into the window.

Deep down, Hermione knew his form was unchanged, but she could not help feeling disappointed. She glanced at Dumbledore's portrait to find it watching her with a pitying expression. Embarrassed, she shifted her eyes to Bill as he produced his llama.

XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX

You're going to be fine. Hermione repeatedly reassured herself while triple-checking all the private rooms in the infirmary were well-stocked with healing potions and salves. Poppy, having grown unnerved by her pacing, had set her to do something useful with her nervous energy.

'Hermione.'

No, no, no! She slammed her hand on the counter.

'I'm sorry.'

'I know, I know.' Bending over, she tried to dispel her nausea.

'The Dark Lord graciously invites you to join us for pudding.'

Heaving a breath, Hermione righted herself and wiped at the frustrated tears forming in her eyes.

'I'll meet you at the cabin and Apparate us into the Manor, but you shouldn't dally.'

Nodding, the witch scraped together her courage and hurried out to the infirmary Floo. Poppy offered a word of encouragement before the green flames spit Hermione out in the Headmistress's Office. Minerva immediately came out from behind her desk.

"I have to go," Hermione whispered.

Pulling her into an embrace, Minerva murmured, "Stay strong. Trust Severus, and trust yourself, alright?"

Moving into the antechamber, the young witch took a steadying breath before Apparating.

Having appeared right in front of Severus, she immediately collapsed into him, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"We're going to be fine," Hermione stated firmly.

Severus held her gaze, then lowered his lips to hers in a light kiss.

Smirking, she gripped his forearms. "Can I have more of those after?"

"You can have whatever you need." He slipped his arm through hers, then Apparated them to the receiving chamber at Malfoy Manor.

Though she managed to keep her face placid, Hermione's heart was racing, and she had a white-knuckled grip on his arm as he led her into the formal dining room. When every member of the dinner party turned to watch their approach, she silently praised herself for not vomiting. Hearing Severus address the Dark Lord, she dropped both her eyes and her knees to the hardwood floor.

"Such a pretty sight on her knees, isn't she?" Voldemort leered.

Holding himself in check, Severus forced half a grin. "Indeed, my Lord."

"Rise, child, and join us. You're in time for dessert." The tyrant gestured past Narcissa to where another chair materialized.

Eyebrow raised, Severus instinctively caught Hermione's elbow, steadying her as she got to her feet. Voldemort's gaze narrowed a fraction as he watched the pair take their seats.

Wedged in between Snape and Draco, Hermione felt the burning weight of nearly every eye in the room. Keeping her eyes focused on the table, her hands shook as she placed a cloth napkin in her lap.

'A Half-blood is bad enough, but a Muggleborn seated higher than Sacred Twenty-Eight is never done. He's just re-established the ranks… and put another serious chink in his armor.'

With a deep breath, Hermione raised her chin to meet each glare with feigned confidence.

Quirking his thin lips, Voldemort called for dessert to be served. When the dishes appeared, he exclaimed, "I've always loved a good fool."

XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX

Voldemort cackled when a stray hex forced Lucius to move and left a scorch mark on the drawing room wall.

Sweat dripping down her face, Hermione cried out as Draco's tripping jinx caught her left foot. Though she managed not to fall, she cursed herself for not reacting quicker. She knew her attention should stay on her opponent, yet her eyes wandered periodically to the camelback sofa where Severus sat with Narcissa.

The young witch ground her teeth. If Lucius bloody Malfoy can ignore them, so can you.

That determination lasted until she heard Narcissa gasp. Her glance to the sofa slowed her reaction time enough that a slicing hex caught her shoulder.

"Fuck!" Stumbling back, she fended off Draco's attack as well as her own tears. Keep it together. Get back in control. You can't let him win. You can't lose this.

'You're hardly losing. He's tiring himself out with this barrage.'

Inhaling sharply, Hermione threw up a shield charm to give herself a moment to focus. Draco did seem to be exerting himself harder than his spells were landing. Is he just tired, taking it easy on me, or trying to trick me?

'It's not the latter. It doesn't matter which of the other reasons. You need to find an opening.'

No shit, Sherlock. The witch flicked an irritated glance in Snape's direction, only to see Narcissa's hand on his thigh. With a pang in her gut, her shield charm fell. Another slicing hex grazed her hip, though it was weak enough that it stung more than it sliced.

Emotion and pain welled up, fueling her magic as she impulsively cast Flipendo. The jinx hit Draco squarely in the chest, obliterating his shield charm, and sent him somersaulting backwards. Hitting the wall, the boy slid to floor.

Narcissa lurched to her feet, while Lucius held a death grip on the back of chair. They each struggled to breathe along with their son, who coughed up at the ceiling. After several seconds Draco slowly pulled himself into a seated position.

Heaving deep breaths herself, Hermione lowered her wand. Given the physical exertion, the pain (and mild blood loss) from her injuries, and her emotional state, she felt concerningly light-headed. Don't pass out. Just don't pass out.

"Bravo," Voldemort clapped.

Gulping, she offered him a shaky curtsy.

Keeping his shrewd gaze pinned on the girl, the Dark Lord cleared his throat. "Severus, it's quite late. I think it's well past time you put Lady Malfoy to bed."

"As you wish, my Lord." Severus tried to ignore Hermione's flinch as he stood from the sofa. With one last sympathetic smile to her son, Narcissa ducked her head and accompanied him out of the room.

, Voldemort extended his arm toward Hermione, who stared at him in panic. When he crooked his fingers, however, she forced herself forward to take his clammy hand. It was all she could do to keep from recoiling as he maneuvered her onto his lap.

'You're alright, Hermione.'

'Please don't leave me. Please!'

'I'm still here.'

"Now," Voldemort cooed into her ear. "What have you to show me?"

Hermione whimpered as he dug his fingers into her forehead and cast Legilimens. Trying not to squirm, she tossed him relatively harmless snippets of memories. She heard the Dark Lord snort while watching Harry and Ron describe all the fun, yet useless activities in which they were engaging.

When he pushed on the underlying current of irritation she felt with them, Hermione tried to direct him to the tedious hours she had spent brewing for the infirmary. He pushed harder, however, and suddenly she was being slammed up against the castle wall with Harry screaming in her face.

"WHERE WERE YOU? Where were you when your Death Eater boyfriend and your pal Snape MURDERED PROFESSOR DUMBLEDORE? Kneeling –"

Panicking, she yanked on a related thread and pulled them both up to the Astronomy Tower, where she cried in front of Harry, begged forgiveness and bitterly listened to him malign Snape. The Dark Lord latched onto her desire to protect Severus, and she abruptly stormed out of the cabin after Draco, blasting his wand from him and knocking him onto his bottom.

"Do you have any idea what he did to help me?"

"Yes!"

Before Hermione could even react, she found herself on a balcony, staring down at the gardens.

"You didn't really think he'd pick you if offered something better, did you? Why turn a mudblood whore into a wife when you could simply have both?"

Chuckling darkly, Voldemort released the spell. When she nearly slipped off his lap, he slid his arm around her stomach and tugged her back against his torso. "Why indeed?"

Hermione gasped, wanting nothing more than to be freed from his grasp. Her gaze swept about the room in the futile hope of some disturbance that may draw his attention from her. Yet all she found were two stricken Malfoys – the younger, staring at her in horror; the elder, grimacing in pain as he pushed his left hand into his stomach.

"And it does appear our Severus is happily having both, doesn't it?" Voldemort traced his cold fingers down her neck.

Hermione jerked at both his repulsive touch and the realization that Lucius's wedding band was burning.

'Lucius is acting, Hermione. I swear it.'

"Surely, you're not concerned about that, sweet girl." The Dark Lord ran both hands along her arms. "Men always prefer bedding the mistress to the wife after all. Isn't that so, Lucius?"

Lucius stared at the floor, ignoring the dark glare his son sent his direction.

"She's good for him, hmm?"

Hermione stared at the wall over Draco's head. Don't react. Don't react.

"Like a vegetable course," Voldemort smoothed a hand over her stomach. "If he can even stand it at all, a man will bow to expectation and finish his vegetables off so that the pudding may taste altogether sweeter."

The witch squeaked as he used his knees to part her legs.

"And you, my dear," he purred in her ear, "are the pudding."

XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX

"Severus, you can't –"

Snarling, the wizard slammed his hand against the bedroom door.

"Severus, he's testing you. If you go down there, he'll –"

"You don't think I know that?!" Snape snapped at Narcissa. As she shirked back, he heaved a sigh and wiped his face. "I know what he's doing. I know. I fucking know."

The blonde dropped her eyes to the carpet, then chanced an apologetic glance. "It's obvious you care for her."

Too fucking obvious. Severus willed his supper to stay down as he listened to Hermione's skyrocketing discomfort. When a hand gently touched his shoulder, he twisted away, backing into the door and holding up his hand in warning. "Do not. Your husband's already convinced him I'm doing my utmost to dilute the gene pool."

Narcissa curled her fingers into a loose fist and lowered her arm. "I didn't intend…I— you wouldn't…"

Shaking her head, she steadied herself against an armchair. "Do you think Lucius was convincing?"

Snape nodded slowly.

"You're certain?"

"Yes," he ground out. "I'm certain."

"And Draco? Is he –"

"He's hardly the Dark Lord's focus right now," the spy grumbled.

"You can hear what's happening?"

"I could."

Chastened, Narcissa sank into the chair and fiddled with her hands. When Severus shifted his weight, her eyes lifted again to him. She watched him solemnly staring at the base of the door, his attention elsewhere, before she suddenly approached him.

"The fuck are you doing?" Severus exclaimed as she turned him to face her and began unfastening his buttons. "Witch, I just said –"

Narcissa slapped his hand away when he tried to interfere with her efforts. Huffing, she tugged firmly on his coat and stared up at him. "Any moment now, he will call you back. Lucius's efforts will be for naught if you show up looking as though you stood at the door waiting to be beckoned downstairs."

"It could be explained –"

"When rushing to dress yourself without making him wait unnecessarily, you're going to ensure you're perfectly pressed?" she arched her brow.

Growling, Severus took over the task of unbuttoning his frock coat. When he shrugged it off, she snatched it, balled it up, and threw it on the floor.

"Trousers," Narcissa pointed. As he unbuckled his belt, she quickly set in on his cravat.

"Witch!" he hissed, pulled off balance when she wrenched the dark silk free.

XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, refusing to look at either of the Malfoys as the Dark Lord continued his assault. His hand moved to cup her breast, and she involuntarily shuddered. Control yourself, you idiot!

'You're alright. He may not understand what motivated the reaction.'

'Gods, you mean he thinks –'

"Like that, do you?" Voldemort purred, squeezing harder.

Unable to say it aloud, Hermione nodded.

"But you're afraid. I can sense it."

"The b-bond…sir," she whispered.

Voldemort huffed, though his fingers continued tracing over her breast and thigh. "Short-sighted of me, I admit. When I gave you to Severus, I did not expect you to develop so fully."

Her stomach turned at the double entendre.

"You care for Severus… want to protect him… be with him." After she anxiously nodded at each suggestion, he patted her hip. "If you're a good girl and help bring me victory, perhaps I'll let him breed you. Would you like that?"

A tear dripped down her cheek as she pictured the little girl from her dream. "Please… my Lord."

"You do just that, don't you?" Voldemort smirked. "Pity I cannot breed you myself. However, I anticipate the heirs you provide Severus will be extraordinary. They will not trade on their name whilst hiding behind Mummy's skirts. Perhaps, you may even birth a queen."

When Hermione lurched at the idea of her daughter being similarly molested, the Dark Lord chuckled. "That excites you, does it? Shall I fetch Severus for you?"

"Please," she whimpered.

"Practice does make perfect."

XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX

"Wait!" Narcissa snapped when Severus grabbed the door handle. She mimicked the motions of summoning and dressing charms before gesturing him on. "Don't rush."

Rolling his eyes, the wizard wrenched open the door and let it slam behind him as he strode briskly downstairs. Upon entering the drawing room, he determinedly focused on Voldemort and not his terrified witch. "My Lord?"

"Have I interrupted something?" the tyrant leered.

"Nothing important," Severus mumbled, fastening two buttons on his coat.

Hermione swallowed; her eyes trained on the cravat sticking out from his pocket. It took every effort not to flinch as Voldemort stroked her hair.

"Your pet was whimpering for master."

Severus straightened his cuffs. "So I heard."

The tyrant lifted Hermione off his lap as though she were a small child. "Such a good girl deserves a treat, does she not?"

As she collapsed at his feet, Severus rested his hand possessively along the side of her face. "Indeed."

Voldemort stood. "The whelp was not entirely disappointing, so find him a chew toy or something. And perhaps Lucius might be allowed a nibble at your leftovers upstairs?"

"If you think him deserving, my Lord."

"I'm feeling generous – it's Midsummer, and our time is rising." Voldemort gestured with his wine goblet. "Let's have a spot of fun!"