That Which Is Lost

Disclaimer::: *Points to self* Not JK, nor famous, nor rich!

My betas!

~Fervesco~

And introducing...

~Wartcap!~

Chapter 2

That Which Is Lost

"Look at Madam Bones, look at Emmeline Vance...It could be me next, couldn't it? But if it is," he said fiercely, now looking straight into Dumbledore's blue eyes gleaming in the wandlight, "I'll make sure I take as many Death Eaters with me as I can, and Voldemort too if I can manage it."

Pg. 77 (Amer. Edition)

Jane Granger streaked from her daughter's room towards the study where her husband lounged, stumbling over her own feet in her haste. "Eric!" she shrieked as she neared the entryway.

Mr. Granger sat comfortably in the study, reading over his wide selection of newspapers from various cities. He started violently at the shout from his wife, spilling tea down his crisp, white shirt.

His heart leapt into his throat as his wife stumbled frantically into the room. He forgot all about the scorching tea as it seeped through his shirt and lunged to his feet, rushing to his wife's side. "What in blazes is going on?" he demanded, clutching at his wife's shoulders in desperation.

His sudden hold on her seemed to startle Jane back to some semblance of reason. "Hermione's... in... danger..." she gasped. Convulsively, she pushed him away and stumbled blindly across the room. Falling to her knees in front of the fireplace, she demanded, "Where's the powder!"

Mr. Granger opened his mouth to say something, but his voice failed him. Hermione, his darling daughter, was in peril. Dread, anger and a sense of incompetence roiled deep within his core. Oh, God...

"Where's the bloody powder!" she repeated, her voice hysterical. Jane clawed around the fireplace, searching desperately for the only answer she had to help Hermione. Grasping a small box she spotted on the mantle, she ripped off the lid, bronzing the burnished silver with the blood from her mangled hand. Frantic now for her daughter's safety and totally oblivious to pain, she shoved her injured hand into the box and scooped out a huge handful of the ashy substance, dashing it onto the grate.

Green, smokeless flames erupted as the ash made contact, blasting a wave of cool air into her face and fluttering her frizzy mane behind her. She leaned forward, enveloping her head within the flames and pleaded, "Harry Potter!"

The blur of light, objects and darkness were barely discernible as the Floo network swooshed through numerous Wizarding households. The blur came to an abrupt halt and, disoriented, Jane found herself gazing into Harry's home.

"Harry!" she cried out as doubt and panic knifed through her mind. Please be home. Please...

Seconds ticked by as her pulse thundered in her ears. "Harry!" she screeched again as a side door burst open, revealing a dishevelled and sleepy-eyed young man. Rubbing at his eyes, Harry muttered something incoherent through a yawn, before he took a decent look at the fireplace. "Mrs. Granger?" he asked uncertainly.

"Hermione's gone! Get over here, now!" she blurted out.

Recognizing the immediacy in her voice, Harry didn't hesitate. Reacting instantly, he disappeared from the doorway and reappeared a moment later with his wand and a long, Muggle trench coat. "Step back," Harry ordered. He grabbed a handful of his Floo powder just as the flames and Jane's face disappeared from his grate.

The flames reappeared in the Granger's fireplace not three seconds later, revealing a wildly spinning Harry. Finally, his form slowed and he stooped over to remove himself from the small confine. "What happened? And where did you last see her?" Harry questioned before they had a chance to speak, already pulling on his trench coat.

Jane interlaced her hands in a tight fist at her waist, attempting to still the icy chill snaking through her. "I was in her room inspecting the window that broke for seemingly no reason at all when I heard a loud gunshot crack from the street behind our house," she pronounced as clearly as possible through the tremor in her voice, pointing to the houses behind them.

Harry frowned, knowing Hermione wouldn't simply disappear and leave her parents to worry needlessly. "Apparition," Harry whispered, his features grim. "How do you know it was her?"

"I don't know exactly," Mrs. Granger whispered shakily. "I feel it. She went out to the corner shop, which is only a ten minute trip, well over thirty minutes ago and then I heard the..." Jane broke off abruptly, her smooth face taut and pale.

Harry nodded. "Mr. Granger, you trace her steps to the store. Mrs. Granger, you reconnect to the Floo and contact Ronald Weasley. It will lead you to the Burrow. Tell anyone that answers to warn the Order of Hermione's capture. I'll go check the street for any trace of Apparition." He stood resolutely, gazing between the two of them for any sign of question.

Both parents nodded in unison, aware of Harry's training, but his efficiency did nothing to remove the edge of fear curling around their senses.

Jane knelt once again, tossing more Floo powder into the grate as her husband and Harry rushed from the room, all intent on finding what was most precious to them in the world.

***

Severus Snape was a cautious and methodical man, a fact for which he was renowned. Knowing that his movements would be traced by the Order, he had carefully planned his escape, taking all precautions to ensure privacy with Miss Granger.

He erased his trace from the Grangers' street as he Apparated. Popping back into existence on the outskirts of her town, he quickly placed numerous anti-tracking charms to thwart the Order's early arrivals.

Fully aware of Potter's power and his new-found ability to harness it, Snape was under no illusions that, eventually, Harry would pick up their trail. Therefore, his best option was to leave no trail at all.

It was a simple solution really. Nothing a charmed broom, ten miles distance from his current position, and a Portkey couldn't accomplish. Snape sighed dramatically. Potter always had been the proverbial thorn in his side.

He casted a weightless charm on Hermione, mounted the broom, and hoisted her limp form onto the handle facing him. His left arm anchored her securely to his chest as her head lolled limply on his shoulder. A second Disillusionment charm was performed before ascending rapidly, and unseen, over the town's surrounding wood.

Speed was imperative. He flew low over the treetops, an acceleration charm boosting the old broom's performance. Jettisoned roughly through the air by the charm's added propulsion, he bent low on the broom; streamlining their bodies, he prevented the battering rush of air from hurling himself and Miss Granger to the forest floor below. The position was awkward, having to cradle her helpless body to him in a suggestive fashion, the juncture of their hips pressed tightly together, as her weightless legs flailed like ribbons in the wind behind him.

Snape's breath deepened instinctively at the pseudo-intimate contact with Hermione. He tensed his body in silent protest, refusing to acknowledge that he was becoming aroused by the unconscious woman's warm, pliant body pressed firmly against his chest and groin. Do not compromise the mission, he berated himself harshly.

Gritting his teeth, he refocused on the task at hand and noted that his destination was rapidly approaching. Slowing his speed, he descended gracefully, touching ground in the small, obscure clearing where he swept Hermione off the broom.

To make matters easier, he shrunk the broom and placed it in his pocket. Laying Hermione on the soft grass, he knelt down at her side and swept his wand across the clearing to rid any lingering evidence of magic. Grasping her hand, he guided it to the small rock and simultaneously touched their fingertips to its smooth surface. They disappeared at once, vanishing along with any trace of their existence.

***

Hermione startled awake, swathed in the meagre rays of a single candle that hovered above where she lay on the uneven, stone floor. The candle's weak light illuminated a radius of no more than five feet within her range of vision; what lay beyond her sight remained shrouded in complete darkness.

With her hands bound securely behind her, she used her legs as leverage to slowly swing herself into a sitting position. Hermione blinked groggily, disoriented by the spell's aftereffects.

Shivering from her contact with the cold ground, she hugged herself as best she could, pressing her arms tightly against her back.

Her confusion began to subside as the cool air sharpened her awareness. Remembering her peril, she froze. Holding her breath, she tried to make out any hint of sound. Absolute silence, only interrupted by the frustrating thumping of her heart, rang in her ears.

Hermione's heart rate quickened as she sensed a presence looming somewhere in the black void surrounding her. Terror began to grip at her heart, clutching her within its icy fingers.

"Hello?" she called into the black abyss, her voice trembling. The call echoed around her, giving her an idea of the vast expanse of rock that was imprisoning her. The answering silence pressed thickly against her ears, so tangible it seeped into her pores.

Growing angry at her own cowardice, and the man toying with her, Hermione forced her fear aside. "Answer me!" she shrieked into the room.

Unable to use her hands for support, Hermione planted her feet firmly on the ground and hoisted herself up. She stood resolutely, facing her dread as the furious echo reverberated and died once more.

She stood within the light's circumference, hesitant to explore the unknown beyond the flame's reach.

As she debated internally with herself, a low, animalistic growl penetrated the silence. Eyes widening, her head whipped around frantically, searching for the origin of the ominous sound.

In the distance she spied a swift, multifaceted flash, resembling the lick of light captured and reflected within the orbs of some night-vision creature, peering at her from the dark recess. Her chest heaved as panic overrode her senses. They mean to have me consumed by their beasts! she thought, horrified.

She backed up unconsciously, stumbling over her own feet and into the darkness. She struggled to find tenure as her feet slid on the jagged shards of slate littering the floor, rattling like dry bones with the smallest movement. "Help me! Someone help me, please!" she screeched, mad with fear.

A resounding roar answered her plea. Her widened eyes bulged as she detected the sound of claws tapping against the stone floor, predatory, stalking her. Hermione, senseless now with fear, turned and fled, with an ear-splitting scream tearing from her lips.

Totally blinded by the black shroud of darkness enveloping her, she ran frantically through the maze of jagged rocks strewn haphazardly upon the craggy ground. She was utterly defenceless without a wand her hands bound helplessly behind her back, and no sense of her attackers whereabouts. Escape was Hermione's only chance for survival.

Unexpectedly, her foot sunk into a thick puddle of tarry substance. Catching her foot mid-stride, her gathered speed and velocity pitched her face first onto the fluid and sharp rocks littering the ground. The substance squished against her body, as warm and sticky as coagulated blood.

A moment later, a huge eruption of fire lit the centre of the immense cavern, illuminating the cavern's dark, glistening walls.

Panting erratically, she kicked herself onto her back. Her eyes searched frantically for the ravenous beast that intended to pounce on her at any moment. The stone walls of the empty cavern met her vision, but the beast had vanished with the eruption of flames.

Bracing her legs beneath her and pushing herself to her feet once again, she twirled around, inspecting every direction. As her gaze settled on the giant flames leaping high into the chamber, she caught the sight of a black form materializing from behind the inferno. Snape emerged fully into her view, a sadistic smirk twisted on his features.

His eyes flashed a muted shade of green as the light rebounded off his nocturnal eyes. She gasped, taken aback that he would play such a cruel trick on her. "You sick, demented BASTARD!" she roared as he approached her, sauntering with an air of superiority.

"Finite Incantatem," he murmured, waving his wand casually at his face and halting before her as the predatory gleam vanished from his eyes. "It would seem that failure is not your only fear, my sweet. Surely, your rational mind could have foreseen the fact that you are of much more use to me alive."

His expression of smug satisfaction at provoking her distress only served to infuriate her further. Violence surged into Hermione's bloodstream, blazed across her impossibly heightened senses and crackled through every raw nerve ending. Seething outwardly, she bared her teeth in a disturbing rendition of an ecstatic grin.

"I always suspected that psychological warfare would be your drug of choice, with physical torture being so messy, that is," she spat, visibly quaking.

He sneered delicately in response, broke eye contact with her and feigned boredom with the current conversation. "If you're quite finished...? I have something of greater importance to discuss with you."

"If that was your method of persuading me to be co-operative, prepare to be disappointed. You may as well end it now, you know. I'll be of no use to you." Hermione tilted her face up in defiance.

"Such self-deprecation from the pride of Gryffindor. Tsk, tsk, tsk. What makes you think you are of no use?" he asked, curving his eyebrow.

"Training," she stated tersely.

"Ah, so you honestly believe that prattling in your little 'club' makes you above any method of persuasion, do you?" he said sceptically, doubt evident in his tone.

"I will endure whatever torture you subject me to, even die, rather than betray the Order," she said, meeting his eye and stressing the emphasis on betrayal.

Unbeknownst to Snape, the D.A. had made great strides in readying themselves for the future after the inevitable had become apparent. During the eighteen months since Albus's death, the members had tirelessly sought ways to improve their defense, inoculating themselves against Veritaserum's persuasion and training extensively in Occlumency, and advanced defensive magic. Their success or failure would decide the fate of the Muggle and Wizarding worlds... With the fate of humanity riding on their shoulders alone, it was a battle they couldn't afford to lose.

He held her gaze intently. "How very impressive, but I betrayed no one. Do you understand? I obtained all of my directives from Albus," he hissed, his calm facade deteriorating rapidly.

"Oh, yes, your honour cannot be questioned," she hissed back sarcastically, equally incensed. "Obviously, cold-blooded murder and binding a helpless woman only to subject her to such cruelty are simply unconventional displays of heroism... Forgive me if cannot find it within myself to believe your lies. You, of your own volition, have extinguished every shred of faith I had left in you," she spat ferociously.

He was still for a moment, looking at her askance, as though sizing her up. "My sincerest apologies, Miss Granger," he said smoothly, insincerity dripping from every syllable. He raised his wand in her direction, noting the deliberate relaxation of her muscles in preparation for the Cruciatus Curse. He flicked his wand once, vanishing the mucky debris clinging to her body and removing the binding across her wrists.

She gaped for a moment, shocked at the removal of her bonds. Collecting herself quickly, the initial disbelief morphed into suspicion, wary of his unpredictable tactics.

"Attempting to lure me into a false sense of security, are you?" she questioned, finding his sudden 'hospitality' far more disturbing than his unique form of sadism.

Snape ignored her question, concentrating on a jumble of large boulders near the blazing fire. Transforming the boulders into two, thin cushioned couches facing each other, he gestured towards them. "Sit," he commanded, gritting his teeth when she failed to comply. "Please, sit. We have much to discuss."

She glanced at him, then back at the couches, her discomfort rising. A movement glimpsed out of the corner of her eye caught her off-guard as a graceful, swift swipe of his wand arm caused her to leap a foot off the ground. Her full attention now riveted on him, she noticed he held the wand by the tip, openly outstretched for her to grasp.

His amusement at her reaction was evident...for a small, condescending smirk pulled at his sharp features. "I prefer dueling, Miss Granger, as opposed to murdering unarmed opponents..." he cut off abruptly, the sentence dying in his throat at the look she shot at him, noting the unvoiced accusation in her eyes. "If I recall correctly, I've explained that that particular situation was beyond my control... The wand is safe, I assure you," he finished lamely.

With reflexes honed from hours of training, she shot out her hand, catching the wand's hilt securely in her small fist. She pointed the wand directly at him, her eyes narrowed.

"Your trust in me is so very... charming," he said snidely.

"If I recall correctly, I've explained that you've extinguished every shred of faith I had left in you," Hermione said sharply. "Now get on with it."

She wasn't so dense as not to realize that his every action had a motive; that the surrender of his wand was to manipulate her perception of him. And she was fully aware of his desire to placate her in order to suit his own personal agenda.

Snape, as though sensing her thoughts, turned without further comment. He walked to the second couch and took a seat, watching as Hermione quickly followed, seating herself opposite him.

"Continue," she said, gazing at him expectantly.

A look of distaste crossed his features, as though he detested the thought of her giving him a direct order. He did not act on it, choosing instead to deal with the matter at hand. "As you already know, Albus is gone, but not before he laid the fundamental groundwork necessary to accomplish his task, which is ultimately, the defeat of the Dark Lord."

He paused, choosing his words carefully, "You must understand his position, Hermione, that in order to defeat a Dark Wizard, you must think like one. To Albus, his decisions and actions were justified because they contributed to the 'greater good'."

"It wasn't until some time later that I realized Albus had allowed me to leave the Hog's Head un-Obliviated, and with partial knowledge of a prophecy, because he fully intended for me to deliver the information I had overheard. Sharp as he is, Albus deduced that the Dark Lord would seek to destroy his destroyer, and in doing so... make the only weapon capable of defeating the Dark Lord clear."

"Once Voldemort pinpointed Harry as the 'Chosen One', Albus was free to tuck him away, ensconcing Potter under his wing and ensuring that his tool would be wielded and guided as he saw fit."

Hermione's skin was flushed from the fire's heat, her face impassive except of a small tick that fluttered her left eye momentarily, yet she remained silent.

"Potter was never difficult to manipulate... Nor was I, apparently, since Albus' keen ability to see five steps ahead ensured that I would have no choice but to comply with his wishes..."

"What do you mean by 'No choice but to comply'?" Hermione cut in, interrupting her silence for the first time.

"Meaning, that the life debt I owe to James Potter was violated when I inadvertently supplied the snippet of information that eventually lead to his death. I've no choice but to protect his offspring, or I risk my immortal soul."

Slightly uncomfortable by his revelation, he shifted his gaze from her face, looking anywhere but at her eyes. This was a weakness so damning that, since James' death, none but Albus had been aware of.

"So," Hermione began, "you haven't actually switched sides then, have you? You merely have no choice but to protect Harry from your Master, whom you really wish to serve. No wonder you despise Harry so..." she broke off, pensive.

"I'm afraid it's more complex than that, you silly girl," he sneered, "I can see where, in your inexperience, the world is defined by shades of black and white. Reality, on the other hand, is dominated by varying shades of gray." His tone was scathing, rasping slightly in his urgency to correct her.

She fixed her eyes on him harshly, her face pinched. So, battling Death Eaters at age 16 is inexperienced, is it? she fumed internally, but wisely, made no move to speak.

"As I was saying," he continued, "the Headmaster's manipulations run deep. He is clever, subtle, and extremely persuasive... Lily and James' deaths were no accident; Albus refused the position of their secret keeper on purpose, knowing they would be betrayed."

"Sirius," he continued smoothly, "was also a sacrifice..."

Hermione inhaled sharply, her brow furrowing.

"...meant to rouse Harry into action against Voldemort. The finer details reveal the truth: Albus collected Lucius Malfoy and numerous other Death Eaters with a mere flick of his wand... and yet Bellatrix Lestrange managed to escape his grasp while Sirius managed to fall through the Veil to make a lasting impression on Harry's soul, while taking care not to break him..." Snape hesitated before continuing, "and Albus planned his own demise as well, using me as the final catalyst to propel Harry into action," he whispered.

Hermione uttered no response, merely dropping the black wand limply onto her lap. Something was amiss; he had expected a different reaction from her. Denial, anger, sadness... anything other than the look of resignation and dejection currently distorting her soft features.

Studying her face carefully, he realized she may have already come to these conclusions on her own. "I am merely confirming your suspicions, am I not, Hermione?" he whispered cautiously.

She did not answer, nor meet his eyes. She sat motionless, as though in deep thought, breathing deeply through parted lips. "Hermione," he whispered, encouraging her gently. "Answer me."

Her eyes refocused and slid slowly to his face. "Yes," she croaked through the emotion bundled tightly in her throat. "I..." she hesitated a moment before continuing, "I've thought of it. The careful manipulation, the rearing of a generation that must be prepared to fight, to commit atrocities, while still keeping their humanity intact.... Yes, I've thought on that... I understand his reasoning, however detrimental it may be to those involved."

"Yes," Snape answered. "'Sacrifices must be made,' Albus mentioned once, 'but only when unavoidable, or absolutely necessary.'" He stood quickly, gazing into a void of darkness in the distance that the inferno's blaze couldn't reach.

"I've someone to introduce you to," he said, clapping his hands together sharply. Immediately, a clashing gong resounded throughout the cavern, and by the feel of it, travelled deep into the rock's core.

He parted his hands slowly as the sound of grinding stone assaulted her ears. Uncertain of his intentions, she followed the direction of his gaze hesitantly. Upon his command, the Gates of Hell parted, she thought as an eerie chill crawled up her spine.

A/N I stand by the manipulation of Albus, for although it's very subtle, to me it glares as harsh as the sun. For reader reference, I've compiled a list of short, canon dialogue with my interpretations that this conspiracy theory is based on. If anyone is curious to see them, feel free to leave your email address in your review or email me.

The behavior of Severus is odd in this chapter to convey his penchant for mild cruelty on those he disapproves of... and she did knee him pretty hard in his tender bits after all. He needs the aid of Hermione, but for his own petty reasons he dislikes her (at the moment), and we know how childish he can behave at times. He already respects her intelligence, ('Harry gets by on more talented friends' in Spinner's End for example) which is why he chose to go to her for aid in the first place, so it won't take him long to respect her as a person after they work closely together in the future.

This story doesn't revolve around Albus. These first few chapters are only informative tools about Albus to set the stage for the rest of the fic. Chapter 3 will round off the information.