"What the fuck do you want?" Antonin hid his astonishment upon seeing Snape enter his cell by snarling out the aggressive comment.

The hostility wasn't hard to produce.

Ever since Hermione had murmured the bastard's name, dark thoughts about his fellow Death Eater had constantly swirled in his mind. He was always going to hate whomever she named because he'd hated them for weeks without even knowing their identity. Antonin was annoyed at their attempts to manipulate Hermione away from his words and into a place of false safety, was jealous of the trust she'd previously held for this unknown person and furious that they'd laid a violent hand on her arm hard enough to bruise. He'd gone through the known male members of the Order multiple times in the last few weeks in an attempt to identify the mystery fucker but a name that had never occurred to him was Severus Snape.

Underneath the sustained anger, there was a small stirring of dark amusement at his failure to spot someone hiding in plain sight. Snape was at Hogwarts, one of her professors, and consequently had ample opportunities to converse with her; Snape (like all of the Dark Lord's most valued Death Eaters) would have experience in Occlumency and was therefore more likely to be her tutor in the art than that old fool, Dumbledore; Snape would have known the truth about his parents' murders at the hands of the Prewetts and though Antonin didn't know for sure that the mystery figure had been the one to confirm the cover up to Hermione, it made sense for that to be so. All this time, Antonin had been cursing the slyness and manipulations of the Order bastard - of course only a fellow Slytherin could have put up such a fight against Antonin's own schemes.

What a fool he had been. What a fucking humiliating oversight. Had Hermione and Snape been laughing at his ignorance all this time? The shame of it added extra fuel to his fury. His fingers had twitched with the urge to lash out at Snape, to rain excruciating curses down on him until his throat was torn to bloody shreds with his own screams. And that savage wrath was without even taking into account the big question that had been blaring in his mind as soon as Hermione had named him: what the fuck was Snape playing at? Because from what Antonin could tell, it seemed that Severus Snape was a traitorous fucking cunt.

Hermione had tried to deny it but even if she hadn't had much awareness of giving up his name, her reactions when confronted with it were telling enough: scrambling off Antonin's lap with wide, panicked eyes and desperate denials, and then clamping down and refusing to answer any more of his questions, much to his annoyance. He had quickly tried to tone down his own irritated behaviours because snapping at her and making her bear the brunt of his frustration had the potential to undo so much of their recent progress. And such progress it had been! She'd literally been putty in his hands, lost in her bliss, and Antonin had been left with the deeply frustrating feeling that if he hadn't asked her about the Order bastard and broken her from her pleasure-haze, she probably would've finally let him fuck her. Months of waiting and he'd been his own downfall even though he hadn't actually expected her to respond to his demand for a name. His delaying tactics of pushing her to the limit of the curse's power hadn't produced the satisfying result he'd planned for, but what it had delivered him was probably more important. It hardly mattered that she barely spoke to him for the remainder of her visit because her initial words and reactions after letting out that name had already told him enough: there was no doubt in Antonin's mind that Snape knew about Hermione's dependency on him.

And if that was the case, a loyal servant of the Dark Lord would have told his master about such a glaring weakness in Potter's life, wouldn't they? Consequently, the Dark Lord would have exploited Hermione's vulnerability in some fashion to strike at the Order and make Potter bend to his will. And yet nothing had happened: Hermione came to see him as scheduled with seemingly no danger from the Dark Lord's forces, and Antonin was still in this fucking prison. The reason could be that his Lord was biding his time and choosing the most opportune moment to strike. But it seemed far more likely to Antonin that Snape hadn't told the Dark Lord about the curse's side effects. Which would make him a traitor.

Yes, Antonin knew that Snape's role was different from a typical Death Eater - that the Dark Lord used him as a spy in the Order's camp - because Malachi Nott had told Antonin on his escape from Azkaban last year how the world had progressed in his long absence. Antonin hadn't known Snape was a Death Eater before his first imprisonment (only the Dark Lord knew the identities of each of his followers and Snape didn't come from one of the old families) but he wasn't surprised to hear it, remembering the watchful student a couple of years below him who had shown interest in dark magic and associated with other boys destined for the Dark Lord's service. Mal had told him that the Dark Lord trusted Snape implicitly and Antonin had laughingly called Dumbledore a gullible fool for believing in Snape, but now it appeared that Snape was more loyal to the Order than he was to his master. But surely no one could deceive the Dark Lord so completely? There was no hiding from their Lord. Antonin had witnessed what happened to people who had foolishly tried it and he could still recall the sights and sounds with startling clarity. Snape would have to be utterly mad to willingly put himself in such peril, to risk being victim to the Dark Lord's terrible savagery. Did the man want to die a slow, torturous and agonising death? because Antonin wouldn't be keeping what Hermione had told him to himself when his Lord came to free him. If Snape was a traitor, he deserved what was coming to him and Antonin would be only too glad to deliver him to that fate.

Snape showed no visible reaction to Antonin's hostile welcome. They hadn't seen each other face to face since Antonin's schooldays (though they would've been in each other's presence under their masks during Death Eater gatherings and raids back when they'd been young, as well as a couple of occasions during Antonin's brief stint of freedom last year. Antonin recalled now that Snape had been the one to first bring knowledge of Hermione to his life as he'd reported on Potter's likely companions should the Dark Lord ever be able to lure the boy to the Department of Mysteries). The years had not been kind to Snape - the oily hook-nosed youth's features appearing to have melted into something even more greasy and sallow. There had been taunts back in their Hogwarts days about him being a vampire and Antonin wondered if the students continued to whisper maliciously behind his back. He hoped so.

Snape's eyes travelled a slow loop around the cell, seeming to catalogue and judge everything he saw with a superior and disdainful air. Antonin barely resisted baring his teeth at the display. It wasn't lost on him that Snape - whether a backstabber or not - had never served a single fucking day in this hellhole. Whilst he and a few others had battled misery and madness for their Lord for over a decade, Snape had been a free man, cosying up to Dumbledore and living a life of comparative luxury. How dare he fucking barge in here and sneeringly look down his humungous nose at what was essentially Antonin's entire world for the foreseeable future. Fucking prick.

As Snape's gaze locked with his own, Antonin clamped down on his anger even further so that he could deploy his mental shields. He wasn't concerned about a full Legilimency attack because, just like all visitors to the prison, Snape would've had to hand his wand over to the auror on guard before entering the cell. No, his shields were partly instinctive after an upbringing amidst snooping teachers and Ministry officials, ambitious peers and dangerous associates. But he also found that the control he was forced to employ to maintain his defences also benefited his decision-making and alertness in critical moments. However much he wanted to rage and curse at the man, Antonin didn't want his passionate anger to cause him to miss anything important: Snape wasn't here to pull up a chair and reminisce about the good old days back in the Slytherin Common Room.

At Snape's lack of response, Antonin began to repeat his question. "What the fuck do you - "

"I'd have thought that was obvious," Snape interrupted with a slight sneer.

Antonin suppressed a strong burst of irritation. "She told you what she said." It wasn't a question. It was no coincidence that Snape had shown up here just hours after Hermione had murmured his name. She must have gone running to Snape the moment she'd left the prison and Antonin dug his fingernails into the battered upholstery on the arms of his chair at the mental image. He'd thought that she was all-but done with the 'Order bastard', her trust eroded, wary of any attack from him. How did Snape still have this fucking hold over her? The Severus Snape he'd seen at school was obsessed with dark magic and was as sneering of mudbloods as any of his Slytherin peers - he'd have absolutely hated someone like Hermione. Why was she loyal to him? Even if he was aligned with the Order, that only made it just as likely that he wanted her dead. With a sickening clench of his heart he wondered if she already was. Had Snape killed her for outing his true allegiance? Forcing himself to remain still, he said tensely, "Does she know you're here?"

"No," Snape said simply as Antonin waited rigidly, his muscles clenched so hard they were painfully protesting. He was ready to fly at Snape, to rip him apart with his bare hands like a wild savage for daring to take her away from him. "Not yet. But she will."

Antonin remained poised as he contemplated the words. It was hardly proof that she was safe but he wasn't sure he'd trust anything Snape said anyway. He would only know for sure when she next walked into his cell. Fuck, he was going to go insane waiting, waiting, waiting and fearing the worst. For fuck's sake, Hermione - why would you be so bloody stupid and tell Snape what you'd said? Every time that he thought she was gaining an understanding of self-preservation she'd go and prove him wrong by doing something unbelievably moronic and naive. Fucking senseless Gryffindor!

Snape was watching him closely, which he didn't like. What was the bastard looking for? What was his motivation in coming here? The answers to that all depended on whose side Snape was on. If he was loyal to the Dark Lord, he was probably here to cover his back, looking for evidence that Antonin suspected him of treachery and try to convince his fellow Death Eater that he wasn't a traitor. Yet if he was truly aligned with the Order, he would surely act in the same way - claiming false allegiance to their master in order to maintain his cover as a spy. The problem was that Antonin knew he'd have a hard time discovering Snape's truth - the prick was clearly a master at espionage because both the Dark Lord and Dumbledore must think he was loyal only to them. And what if the truth was that he was neither, and simply sought to play one side against the other to enable him to survive above all else? Potentially, that put Hermione in more danger than ever - a faithless man was even harder to predict, his whims changing at a moment's notice, a viper waiting to strike. And what would happen when he did? What were Snape's plans for her?

That was a vital question whatever the man's allegiance: a true Death Eater ought to be pleased to learn that Potter's closest friend was increasingly under his sway, an Order spy would be appalled, and a rogue man would seek to exploit her. Given those possibilities (and assuming she was still fucking alive) the safest thing for him to do was downplay their connection and all they'd shared as much as possible. He didn't trust Snape with that knowledge. Fuck - he'd never particularly trusted Severus Snape (because Antonin wasn't a fool and he didn't really trust anyone) and had only been indifferent towards him before, but from now on Antonin would consciously be wary of the man in all situations and he loathed the idea of Hermione being near him on a daily basis. He needed to be out of this fucking cell so that he could get her away from the danger that stalked her every step.

Whatever Snape's purpose was in coming here, Antonin was going to do his utmost to ensure that he was the one who secured the upper hand by the time the other man departed. Hermione's loose tongue had given Antonin the power over him - and Snape must know it too. Despite Snape's sneers and disparaging demeanour, he must be scared of the damage Antonin could do because why else would he come straight here to interrogate an incarcerated man?

Those thoughts emboldened him and released more of the tension in his body. Alright, Snape, he thought, let's see what you've got.

"So you'll tell her you came here to convince me that you're a loyal Death Eater." Again, it wasn't a question, but this time Snape responded.

"Of course. She needs to be handled delicately."

It was just a figure of speech but the words (and the mental image they created along with the knowledge that Snape hadn't touched her so delicately once before) pierced under Antonin's skin like dragon claws. He bared his teeth and forced out a laugh. "I'm well aware." There was an extended pause and then Antonin waved a casual hand invitingly. "So, go on then - convince me."

Snape raised a seemingly-cool eyebrow. "It's hardly necessary because the Dark Lord will confirm that I am no traitor but, seeing as I'm already here… You truly think I have kept such a crucial piece of knowledge from our master? That I didn't inform him of the Order's new weakness at the first opportunity?"

"That would have been months ago, no?"

"Indeed."

"And yet," Antonin said pointedly, "things remain the same, Snape. The Dark Lord has not struck to take advantage of this liability as one might assume he would."

"That, Dolohov," he responded with another sneer, "is because he and I - unlike you, apparently - comprehend the strategic merits of patience." Before Antonin could make a caustic comment, Snape said, "Has she told you anything of what is happening beyond these walls?"

"Some," he said shortly, though in truth his interest had definitely waned in the last couple of months as he'd been more focused on his time inside this room with Hermione. "I know our Lord grows stronger."

"He does," Snape confirmed. "Even whilst deprived of the immense manpower of yourself and the rest of the faithful who allowed themselves to be captured last year, his power and influence grow by the day."

Had Severus Snape always been this insufferable? Antonin couldn't recall talking to the younger boy at school - the greasy youth had always been quiet and watchful around more senior students. He was a little surprised that the man seemed so determined to be antagonistic when he had likely come here to get Antonin onside. Was it a bluff to cover his fear? Or was he trying to get a rise out of Antonin for some reason?

"But a failed attack here at the prison could cost casualties and would only make the next assault more difficult," Snape continued. "To take full advantage of your curse's unexpected consequences, we need to lay hands on both you and the mudblood simultaneously." Antonin fought hard to keep another flash of anger underwraps. Hermione wasn't a mudblood - not to him. She was just a witch with no heritage. She was Antonin's. That was all that mattered. But he didn't like anyone insulting his possessions. Snape appeared not to have noticed Antonin's irritation because he continued, "There is no point abducting the girl when she would only be able to survive little more than a week without access to you. Potter's suffering and desperation would be acute but short lived - far better to keep her alive and grind the Order down with prolonged despair to make them more likely to try increasingly reckless attempts to retrieve you both. The Dark Lord will only strike when the time is right to gain Granger, you, and the rest of the prisoners. It will be a devastating blow."

Antonin considered Snape's words. It was plausible, of course, but it would have been far more believable if they'd had this conversation half a year earlier. "The Dark Lord's patience is greater than one might suggest is wise. What if I'd cured her curse months ago?"

"Even if that's possible, we both know you would never relinquish such a hold on an enemy," Snape replied smoothly.

Antonin responded with a grudging grunt of agreement. "But other things could have gone wrong. What if she'd slipped through our fingers? She still could."

"You forget how intimate my position is within the school - "

For fuck's sake - did he really have to use that word?

" - granting me close access to both the mudblood and Dumbledore's schemes. Had our master acted on my information back in September, the old man would have known that it was because of me, and my usefulness as a spy within the Order - years and years of playing my role - would be over. This lengthy delay will shift the blame elsewhere and allow me to continue my vital work."

"How convenient for you."

Snape was still coolly sneering. "As it happens, I have counselled the Dark Lord on more than one occasion in the last few months not to delay too long in this matter, but I'm sure you're aware that he is not easily influenced. He will decide the moment to strike, and for now seems content with the knowledge that I can act at a moment's notice should the need arise. Our master has made it clear that delivering the mudblood at the chosen time is my responsibility and I won't fail him."

Antonin remained unconvinced. Snape's answers were smooth, yes, and just about plausible but they simply didn't have the ring of truth about them.

"A task made all the more difficult now by your recent meddling, getting her to doubt the Order's intentions for her, to mistrust me after I've been working on her for months," Snape continued with a hint of frustration.

Antonin wasn't the least bit sympathetic and had to force himself not to glower at the man. "My heart bleeds for you," he said dryly. "Perhaps if you were as skilled in your espionage as you claim to be, she wouldn't have been able to discern the truth - because it's not like I'm mistaken about the threat, is it?" He was actually quite interested to hear about this, to get an insight into the enemy's thoughts - even if Snape might be lying.

"You are not," Snape confirmed with a glare. "Though the majority of Order members wouldn't even think of such a solution for ridding themselves of the risk the mudblood presents, the old man is not a fool in this at least. He hasn't yet displayed the spine to even voice what he wants done out loud, let alone name a date or method."

Antonin scoffed in contempt. Albus Dumbledore was a weak, hypocritical and righteous fool. It was well past time that the man should be gone from the world. Antonin pictured himself putting the old man in his grave with a variety of different curses to prolong his suffering before death finally took him into its embrace. "Why does he delay?" he asked, voice brittle with hatred for the man who posed the greatest threat to Hermione's safety, all in the name of some 'greater good', no doubt.

"Potter depends on her brains and sense," Snape replied with a slight rolling of his eyes. "She's the only reason he's lived this long. The boy will be useless with her."

Antonin slapped the arm of his chair in frustration. "All the more reason to secure her now," he urged. "For fuck's sake, we mustn't lose her - she's too important." His words were a bit too passionate so he tried to distract Snape. "She clearly still has some trust in you if she came straight to tell you what she'd let slip to me. By her reactions to her mistake, she seemed very sure that you're loyal to the Order."

Snape displayed his biggest sneer yet. "Because she wants to believe me - they all do. Pathetic, isn't it, how naive they are? Surely you've seen that in your time with the mudblood - how easily she can be manipulated."

Rather than speaking, Antonin made another contemptuous noise that could've meant anything.

"She's an uppity brat too," Snape said, "but she's in for a rude awakening once the Dark Lord decides to act. It's enough that she's Potter's mudblood but there are plenty in these cells who I'm sure would dearly like to pay her back for the part she played in the Ministry debacle last sum- "

"No," Antonin interrupted forcefully, rising to his feet. "She's mine. She still bears my mark - none of those fuckers are getting to lay a hand on her."

Snape raised a jeering eyebrow. "Grown fond of your muddy little pet, have you?"

"Fuck off," Antonin snapped.

"I'll admit she's quite pretty for a mudblood," Snape said, causing Antonin's anger to simmer close to breaking point. "I've fantasised more than once about shutting up that mouth of hers by sticking my co- "

But Antonin let out a snarling roar and charged at him, ready to rip the bastard limb from limb.

He was only able to take two paces before his vision was suddenly obstructed. It took him one second to realise that his mental barriers had been breached and another to comprehend both that Snape must still have his wand and that he had just provoked Antonin into losing control. In just that short time, Snape had brought up the memory of her latest visit here but he wasn't quick enough to get beyond her entrance to the cell before Antonin blocked him off. He could feel Snape trying a different memory yet Antonin headed him off before he even got a glimpse. Again and again, Snape tried but Antonin locked his shields down tight before repelling the attack completely, and he saw his cell in front of his eyes once more.

He'd been right not to trust Snape. The Dark Lord wouldn't want the details of Hermione's visits - but the Order would.

Severus Snape was a fucking traitor.

But the man's wand was now pointed at him and Antonin found that he couldn't move.

"I knew I would never be able to convince you," Snape said. His voice wasn't so sneering now. It was indifferent. "Trust isn't how we were raised."

Antonin realised the true purpose for Snape's coming - to bind what Hermione had told him in a memory charm. And the charade of convincing Antonin of his loyalty to the Dark Lord was to find a moment to strike to glean more information about his interactions with her. Though his physical movements were locked down in this body-bind curse, Antonin's mind was active and so his mental shields could not be broken, and stunning him would not grant Snape access either. Only a slip in his control would have provided the offering Snape needed but Antonin had surely been quick enough to deny him evidence of anything that would condemn Hermione - Snape hadn't seen her grinding herself on his lap as he kissed down her neck, him worshipping her scar, them watching themselves fuck in that daydream, her setting up the timeflow spell or her protective bracelet. Snape had failed. As furious as he was with the situation in general, Antonin took great satisfaction in that - even if he knew he wouldn't remember it for more than a few seconds. He'd hopefully kept his zhar-ptitsa safe for a little while longer but Snape's great efforts to break into his mind showed that the Order had considerable concerns about her visits. She was in even more danger than he'd feared with the likes of Snape watching her every move. The vipers were circling her closer and closer. Antonin had done what he could. It was up to her now.

Snape eyed him coldly and Antonin felt nothing but loathing for the man and his false faces. He vowed that he would be there to see Snape get his comeuppance even if he wouldn't comprehend at the time why he was so happy to see the man suffer, and he hoped Hermione would be at his side to see it.

With such vengeful visions in his head, and a mild fear that Snape would fuck up his mind (intentionally or not) as he tampered with this memory, his world disappeared in a burst of light.

Only when Severus passed back into the grounds of the school did some of the tension finally drain away. He'd taken a big risk infiltrating Azkaban, confunding the aurors on duty so that they would allow him access to the prison and forget to make him hand over his wand before entering Dolohov's cell. He couldn't afford for anyone - on either side of this war - to know that he had stepped foot there and so he had modified the memories of the aurors before he'd left as well as Dolohov's. It had been too easy, which didn't bode well for the prison's odds of withstanding the Dark Lord's anticipated attack, but there wasn't anything he could do to change that. There were some aspects of this war that he was powerless to prevent - almost all, in fact - but he wasn't sentimental. That was just life. No one could control everything and nobody should even try.

Pre-dawn was lightening the sky ever so slightly as he closed in on the castle. He had spent longer at Azkaban than he'd realised. Memory charms were finicky if they were to be cast well so that they not only smoothly masked what was to be hidden but also caused no outward indication of interference to the target's mind. The aurors' charms had been reasonably simple - they were only required to forget Snape's presence and their small assistance to him, and their recollection of the evening would merely be one that passed uneventfully.

Dolohov's charm was another matter. Severus could have made the situation somewhat easier by stunning and modifying the man upon immediately entering his cell, but instead he'd chosen to take the opportunity to gain a rare insight into the interactions between Dolohov and Granger.

And what had he made of what he'd seen? Unfortunately it wasn't possible to draw many conclusions because Dolohov had been too quick to spot the Legilimency attack and block him out. The little glimpses Severus had actually seen of Granger - her arriving in the cell and removing her robe to reveal her uniform - told him nothing in themselves but it was Dolohov's associated emotions at the sights that were far more revealing. Severus had been aware of an attraction on Dolohov's part for months thanks to what he'd last been able to glean about their interactions from one of Granger's memories. The desire he'd observed then in Dolohov's gaze had unsettled him, but not enough that he hadn't seen the opportunity it presented for her to gain a hold over the man. It had been a risky strategy to encourage them to become closer, relying on her sense to not let things go too far. But with her reticence about her visits, Severus was left in the dark about how their interactions had developed. He only had his suspicions that the attraction would grow as the weeks dragged on, and his brief foray into Dolohov's mind proved that he was right - yet the strength of what he had felt from Dolohov still took Severus by surprise.

It was a deep and covetous lust - hungry, passionate and possessive. Dolohov craved her in the most carnal of ways.

Even now, the pure intensity of the sensation sent a small aftershock through Severus as he reflected on the moment, and he resisted the urge to shudder. It had been many, many years since he had experienced anything like what Dolohov's mind had exposed him to. His first instinct was to push all thoughts of Lily aside, painful and pathetic as they were, but he realised that he would understand Dolohov better if he compared the two sets of emotions. Severus tried to separate the sadness and regret he currently felt towards Lily and recall how he had felt before her death, before she began a relationship with Potter. It was incredibly difficult to try and replicate his former feelings, to open his heart after so many years, and he paused halfway along a dungeon passageway to close his eyes in an attempt to find what he was searching for. His chest constricted, his breath catching in his throat and he kept his lips firmly pressed together to prevent a pained gasp escaping. The sensation wasn't exactly the same as he'd suffered in his youth but it was close. And when compared to Dolohov? Though Severus had pined and longed for Lily, it didn't match the potency of the other man's primal need to own and possess. Nor could his past meet the fervour of Dolohov's sexual desire - his own fascination with Lily had encompassed far more than just the physical, beautiful though she had been, and that was where the greatest contrast between the sensations lay. Severus had loved - still loved - Lily. Dolohov didn't love Granger. That wasn't to say that he couldn't grow to love her one day because Severus believed he detected a small level of affection from Dolohov beneath the overpowering lust. Whenever Lily had walked into a room, Severus's breath had caught and his heart had stuttered with an almost overwhelming wave of love. What he'd observed from Dolohov was not the same and, quite frankly, Severus wasn't sure that Dolohov possessed the ability to truly love anyone.

Yet the man had come this far, and for a muggleborn, no less. It wasn't lost on Severus that Dolohov had not liked Granger being called a mudblood and nor had he called her one - or anything - the entire time he'd been there. He doubted that this was a reevaluation of life values on Dolohov's part and was more likely a case of him willfully ignoring her heritage in the face of his desires.

I don't believe that he wishes me dead, she had said and, judging purely on what Severus had observed before even attempting to bypass the man's mental barriers, he was inclined to believe her. He had been insistent on the need to secure Granger to their side, furious at the thought of anyone else cursing or touching her, and it had been the most vulgar thing Severus could think of to say that had gotten the man to break. Dolohov's possessiveness put her in greater danger because he wasn't the sort to relinquish something he considered his but it would also make him easier to manipulate should the need arise.

They were still teetering precariously on the edge of disaster but they hadn't plummeted into the abyss yet. Severus couldn't say that he was happy with how things had developed - not when he'd had to go to Azkaban and tidy up Granger's careless mess - but would he have accepted this situation when he'd first made his risky suggestion months ago? …Yes, he would. Just. He was obviously concerned by Dolohov's blatant desires but he hoped that the man's yearning was so strong for her because they hadn't engaged in anything inappropriate. Lustful cravings would only diminish if Dolohov had actually experienced what he desperately wanted, would they not? Severus had tried to see more of their interactions but he had been shut out. It was somewhat cowardly to hide behind a lack of proof but Granger herself had stated that there was nothing improper to report, so what more could Severus do that wouldn't push the already distant girl further away from him? He could hardly involve others without the risk of alerting Dumbledore and that could jeopardise her life. Thankfully, the visual glimpse of Granger in Dolohov's mind hadn't been wanton or flirtatious or fearful, just a little shy. He would've been more reassured if he'd been able to see additional memories, but he'd been thwarted.

Standing over Dolohov's stupefied form, preparing to cast the memory charm, it had occurred to Severus that he could end the precarious situation by being just a bit too forceful with his spell. An Antonin Dolohov who didn't know he was Antonin Dolohov… It would neutralise one of the Dark Lord's most dangerous Death Eaters and halt the man's manipulations and influence over Granger… She would know that it was Severus who had caused Dolohov to lose his mind though - it would be too much of a coincidence after revealing her mistake only to him - and that would cause the soft-hearted girl to distance herself even further from him. The aurors on duty would be interrogated about the breach in security and the examinations of their minds could reveal his guilt, leading to his own incarceration and absence from his key role in the war. Dumbledore would want to know his motive and even if Severus didn't reveal it, it could mean that Granger was sacrificed anyway. Because she would still be dependent on Dolohov's touch, even if he didn't know why. The Dark Lord could still free an incapacitated Dolohov and force Potter's hand, and they wouldn't have Dolohov's proprietary claim on Granger to use to their own advantage.

Unfortunately, the benefits of erasing Dolohov's sense of self didn't outweigh the potential drawbacks. It was a shame, because a botched spell like that was far easier to cast than the skill and delicacy needed to execute the seamless memory charm that he'd then had to perform. He couldn't afford for Dolohov to have blanks in his memory. The man was almost completely isolated and had a lot of time to think. A badly cast memory charm also had the potential to cause behavioural changes, especially when Severus was having to alter two significant conversations with heightened emotions that had occurred within hours of each other. If Dolohov noticed anything out of place in his own mind then that would only lead to suspicions - most likely towards Granger, and Severus was not sure how well she would hold out under interrogation without her own emotions getting in the way.

Severus wouldn't know if his memory charm had been a success unless she mentioned anything to him. He couldn't afford to face Dolohov again so he must simply wait and hope - though whether Granger would actually seek him out if there was a problem was uncertain at this point. He believed that she trusted him more than she did the headmaster (which he never would have believed this time last year) and that she would call on Severus in an emergency, but he didn't expect her to open up to him beyond that anymore.

It was reassuring to know that all of the potential dangers he had considered that long evening hinged on whether Dolohov escaped from Azkaban and returned to the Dark Lord. If that could be avoided, little else that Severus had worried and deliberated over actually mattered. The next time he was alone with Albus he must press the headmaster about the progress of his communications with Scrimgeour, without revealing his urgency of course.

Albus was not at breakfast when Severus wearily dragged himself to the Great Hall a couple of hours later (but he hadn't expected him to be because the headmaster rarely had time to dine with others these days) and a brief conversation with Minerva revealed that Albus was still absent on one of his trips and wasn't expected to return for another couple of days. Glowering at that news (and at his exhaustion, his long-standing headache, and the prospect of a full day's teaching of moronic teenagers with no sleep) his gaze darted to the Gryffindor table, unable to stop himself from seeking the cause of his irritation. He had intended to ignore her completely, to let her stew in her deserved misery and turmoil, but their eyes briefly met before she lowered hers in apparent shame. The already bitter coffee in his mouth turned rancid at the memory of what he had said about her to goad Dolohov and he abruptly left, leaving the rest of his breakfast uneaten.

Fortunately, he didn't have to see Granger again until two days later for their Defence lesson. He saw her tightly controlled expression fall as her homework was returned to her with an accompanying note demanding that she stay behind after class. To him, even though she completed her work as efficiently as normal, she was notably withdrawn throughout the lesson, but her brainless friends didn't appear to notice.

Granger approached his desk at the end of the lesson as though she was walking to her doom - and he internally scoffed at her melodrama before reasoning that, from her perspective, the situation probably warranted it.

He non-verbally locked the door and cast a protective silencing charm just to be safe. "It has been taken care of," he murmured quietly as she stared at him with solemn eyes. "He will not remember what you said."

She let out a little gasp, her gaze searching his face, waiting for any more information. "Does anyone else know?" she eventually asked.

"No, and nor will they," he said, causing her shoulders to drop with evident relief. "You will need to be extremely careful of your own behaviour so that he remains oblivious, and alert for unexpected variations in mood and demeanour in him that might have been caused by the modification. He must not suspect what happened."

She nodded. "I understand. I'll be careful."

Severus had no choice but to accept that. There was no point in insisting that she go back to using her Occlumency shields because not only did he have no way of enforcing that demand but any significant change in her behaviour towards Dolohov might tip him off that something was amiss. Unfortunately, Severus was just going to have to trust her and hope that this incident had given her enough of a scare to be more cautious in her dealings with him.

"You had better be," he told her, with a hint of warning in his tone. "I will not tidy up your mess again."

"Yes, Professor."

There was a pause. The possibility of bringing up Dolohov's intense sexual desire for her hovered in his mind but he wavered with uncertainty. A cruel and murderous Death Eater wanted to have sex with this young woman whom he had a duty of care towards, and she was meeting with him, unsupervised, every eight days. She had legally come of age, he knew that, but that didn't change his abhorrence of the situation. Would he have a positive impact if he voiced his concerns? Nothing of the little he'd observed about her over the last few weeks spoke of a fear or disgust about her regular visits. If anything, whatever occurred within that cell had only moved her closer to the man. Dolohov must be manipulating her more expertly than Severus had given him credit for because it seemed he was achieving the impossible in getting Potter's muggleborn best friend to find him acceptable in any way. Did she know how deeply Dolohov coveted her? Severus was worryingly inclined to believe that she might - at least to a certain extent. And that made him more reluctant to voice his concerns - teenagers were obstinate, Gryffindors more than most - and any interference on his part might just drive her further away when he needed to maintain some form of relationship with her.

He couldn't kid himself that it was for her sake though. No. There was a war to win, a promise that he had to keep, and years of work and sacrifices that he'd offered to make that possible. For her - Lily. Always for her. And though Lily would be horrified by his decision, Severus reluctantly accepted that he was not going to go out of his way to prevent Antonin Dolohov from living out his desires, that he wouldn't act or speak either to Granger or another adult in a position of care that would stop her from having sex with Dolohov.

Severus had never pretended to be a good person.

"You may leave," he told her.

"Thank you, sir."

He couldn't stand to hear the sound of her gratitude, but he swallowed it down and unlocked the door.

A/N I hope you all enjoyed this one! It was so fun to write Antonin and Snape's perspectives on all this. I have loved getting the chance to delve into Snape's head during this fic given that he is such a complex character, and it is definitely important to remember that - as he states - he isn't a good man. I think Harry was a bit too forgiving towards Snape in the end given the malicious shit he pulled over the years. Just because he's a tragic character, it doesn't make his flaws disappear. I'm sure some of you will think differently.

Anyway, hope you're all well. Take care!