Chapter Twenty One - The Torturing Hour Call Us to Penance (Part 2)

Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to JKR and/or Daniel Knauf. I do not profit from writing this story.

Author's Notes: Must thank my incredible beta, melusin, for her super-human editing skills in the midst of a pet crisis.

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Dumbledore's feet slowly shifted against the floorboards. Inhaling sharply, a piercing pain shot up the 'good' portion of his back. He clumsily grasped his bed-side table to steady his footing.

"Fool," a disgusted voice chided.

Releasing a defeated exhale, Albus' shoulders hunched as he attempted to crawl into bed. His eyes remained downcast, avoiding the argument that threatened from the founder's portrait. Dumbledore didn't possess the energy for any intense discussions at the moment.

But that mattered very little to Godric Gryffindor.

"Made any monumental life changes today?" the school founder harassed further.

Turning his back to the portrait, Dumbledore carefully eased his body to sit upon his extravagant bed. "Enough."

The ever demanding and authoritative Headmaster wasn't present tonight. That one soft whisper of a word pleaded for mercy.

His request was answered by a thunderous laugh. The raucous sound bore down on him, bringing with it a rendition of memories, reminding him of even his tiniest mistakes.

"What more do you want from me?" Dumbledore finally barked. "I stopped taking the potion... I have accepted my fate!"

"YOUR FATE?" Godric roared, all humor gone. "If you had accepted your fate, you would have died from the rot given to you by the Peverell ring!"

Dumbledore cringed. Raising a wrinkled hand to his face, he brushed his fingertips over his brow.

"If you had accepted your fate," Godric continued, "you would have died in the cave! Your self-centered attempts to alter the inevitable have been useless."

"We've been over this before."

"AND YOU NEVER LISTEN TO ME!"

"My ears have not succumbed to decay yet, Godric. There is no need for you to yell."

"This war could have been over by now," Gryffindor said simply. He was past reprimands and warnings now. The school founder truly believed that the worst had been achieved.

A colossal delay of time and nature due to the hands of this blind man.

So, simply forewarning the old goat was nowhere near enough anymore. No, laying blame and barking out particulars of Dumbledore's mistakes felt much more satisfying to Godric. Albus had stopped drinking that monstrous potion, after all.

Dumbledore had to force himself to inhale steady breaths. Not to slow his breathing, but to remind his body to take another. This topic was just... too much.

And it frightened Albus. He vividly remembered the day he had reveled in these long debates with Godric. Now, fear throttled his heart every time the sandy-haired man opened his mouth.

"COMPLETELY over and done with... if you had never interfered. Harry would have had his boon for over a year! He would have had the power to defeat Voldemort..."

"Or fall to him," Dumbledore interrupted.

"It does not matter! His fate was decided long ago."

"Of course it matters!"

"To you. It matters to you, Albus. Who are you to decide so much for everyone? You have the same responsibilities that the ancestors in your house had before you... nothing more or less. You cannot change fate!"

Dumbledore's shoulders shook uncontrollably. He fought the grief and desolation that choked his throat, but to no avail. "I don't just want Harry to win... I want him... EVERYONE to grow old without witnessing the rise of another Dark Lord! How many loved ones can someone lose in war... repeatedly?"

Sitting back in his ornate chair, Godric coolly looked down at the crumbling man before him. "The Balance exists for a reason. Everyone connected to the Dark and to the Light are already on the path made for them... They are all on the path that will cause either Potter or Voldemort to fall. It's been mapped out since the beginning of time. What right do you have to destroy it?"

"War shouldn't be the norm!"

"Don't preach to me! I care not for your idealism. Fine... let me rephrase that last question. What on earth makes you believe that mere humans have the power to change it?"

Dumbledore remained completely motionless for a moment. His good arm then slowly reached out, lightly grasping his duvet. Back still facing the portrait, Albus silently rested his head on his pillow.

"That's exactly what I thought," Godric sneered smugly.

*** *** ***

Hermione quietly followed Severus into his office, forcing herself to hold her tongue. She was seething with so much aggravation and fury, she feared screaming something that she would later regret.

What the hell is wrong with Sirius? her voice shrieked in her mind.

She almost wanted to remind herself not to swear, but she was just too distracted to maintain that reprimand. Hermione was beyond a logical explanation for Sirius' behavior at the moment. She couldn't understand why he didn't get it. She didn't love him. She didn't want to even think of the possibility of such a relationship with him.

And she had said all this to him. Over and over again.

And then there's Severus! How dare he yell at her after everything that had happened. By the set of his jaw and the twitching vein in his temple, Hermione knew he was angry as well. But he had better place that anger where it belonged, if he knew what was good for him.

Hermione didn't realize it, but she'd glanced at Severus the second that threat entered her mind, her eyes vividly spelling it out for him.

He merely raised an eyebrow, closing his office door behind them. Severus turned from her, swiftly flicking his wand to reveal the silver handle in the stone wall.

"Black's office... again, Hermione?" he asked dryly. He didn't wait for her response as he disappeared into his private rooms.

Groaning in frustration, Hermione marched after him. She spoke up the moment she stepped beyond the door. "What do you mean 'again'?"

Severus ignored Hermione as he walked straight to the opposite side of the room, busying himself by a tall cabinet.

Hermione couldn't see what he was doing, but the soft sounds of glass upon glass were not lost on her.

"Jesus, Severus, it's not even dusk yet! Must you have a drink now?"

Severus fluidly twirled around, smirking, with a very full wineglass elegantly grasped in his hand. He focused his eyes on Hermione, slowly looking her up and down as he leisurely raised the crystal to his lips. He swallowed three large gulps, then held the glass out to her.

She disgustedly narrowed her eyes. "No thanks," Hermione hissed. "I'm trying to cut down."

Turning from him, she covered her face with her hands to prevent herself from screaming.

Circles.

Her every moment for the past few months had been one large circle after another. Repeated and continuous highs and lows with Severus. The highs were mind-numbing ecstasy, but the lows continuously made her cry. She danced in circles with Sirius even, moving from fear to compassion in seconds, which recurred almost daily.

She didn't even want to get into her dealings with Dumbledore. That man had to have invented the art of talking in circles.

Hermione rubbed the palms of her hands into her eyes so hard, a blinding white light peppered the edges of her vision.

Her body jerked at the feel of a hand wrapping around her hip. How dare he touch her as if nothing was wrong?

Spinning on the spot, she met Severus' insulted scowl with one of her own.

"You still haven't answered me," she said quietly.

"What part of 'again' didn't you understand?" Snape immediately retorted, crossing his arms.

Hermione was aghast.

"What else am I to do when a Professor requests a meeting with me?"

"I didn't know it was customary for Professors to request meetings in the middle of the fucking night!" Severus immediately clenched his eyes after he said this. Growling, he turned away.

Wide-eyed, Hermione curiously gazed at him before gasping, "Is that what this is all about?"

Severus was obviously resentful towards her for going to Sirius in the middle of the night. Based on the memory that he had basically robbed from her mind, Hermione was certain that he knew nothing had happened between herself and Sirius. But the only reason he was aware of this evening was due to his second uninvited intrusion into her thoughts. Given all that, she didn't think he had a right to be cross with her.

"You're paranoid," she snapped.

"Excuse me?" he instantly snarled, whirling around. Lip curled, he stormed towards her, forcing her to step back until she bumped into his settee.

Swallowing, Hermione defiantly raised her chin.

Severus placed his hands on either side of her, fists clenching into the upholstery. "Do not insult my intelligence, Hermione. I didn't accuse you of being intimate with Black, nor do I possess any doubts of your feelings for him. But I can resent your feelings for what they are. Just the fact that you even bothered to check up on him pisses me off!"

"You already know the reasons behind my concern."

"Don't give me that crap about Albus' convoluted requests upon you. Had he never placed any responsibility upon your shoulders, I would not doubt your Gryffindor compulsion to poke your nose where it doesn't belong!"

"If you care to remember, my Gryffindor compulsion brought me to you!"

Severus slightly pulled back. Jaw clenching repeatedly, he growled under his breath and finally pulled away.

"I refuse to prattle away like a jealous schoolboy. Do not make me waste my breath. If I tell you not to be alone with Black, DON'T be alone with him. Obviously, from what has just happened today, I am not saying this for nothing. Would it have been that difficult to go to Minerva or myself to request an excuse... a meeting to override his?"

Snape ended his furious pacing about the carpeted stone to stand before Hermione again.

Breathing heavily, she kept her face turned towards the floor.

Severus growled as he sharply brushed past her to sullenly sit on the settee Hermione was perched against.

Straightening herself up, Hermione opened her mouth but then quickly closed it. Truthfully, the alternative Severus had recommended had crossed her mind, but Hermione just didn't want to admit to herself...and especially to Severus...that she was... curious... as to what Sirius wanted to talk about.

Her body visibly sagged in defeat.

"You're... right. I should have..." Her whisper cut off to relax her breathing and gather her thoughts. Hermione determinedly walked around the settee to get closer to him.

Hermione tentatively lifted her arm in the air but jerked back when his face sharply turned from her.

Edging closer, she raised her arm again. Softly sliding her hand through his hair, Hermione waited for Severus to unwind his legs and uncross his arms to invite her onto his lap.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

Severus continued to silently glare at the flames dancing in the hearth. His eyes narrowed cruelly... but his legs and arms were now ready for her perch.

Hermione eagerly snuggled into him. Severus humored her by wrapping his longer-fingered hand around her thigh.

Turning her face into his neck, Hermione brushed his lank hair away with her nose. "But you really didn't need to overreact."

"Overreact..." he repeated in his sarcastic drawl. His index finger rhythmically tapped against her leg. "I think it's time I made myself perfectly clear."

Hermione sat up, openly intrigued as to where this was going. Severus didn't face her as he spoke, but his demeanor and tone of voice was completely void of mockery and cynicism.

"Before all this, Hermione, you were never one of my favorite students. This much, I am certain, you already knew. But I had also never liked you. I never respected you. Sometimes, I had to fight the temptation to curse your ever-energetic-arm into mush... Don't turn away from me. I'm talking to you."

Tisking insultingly, Hermione followed the light tug on her elbow. She did not bother masking the indignation in her expression.

Snape answered it with an intensely compelling gaze of his own. Suddenly becoming aware of the heated hand splayed across her back, Hermione swallowed timidly as her throat grew warm. Swiping her hand across her neck, her fingers nervously entwined around a stray curl.

"As I first said... that was before... You are not a mere student any longer." The hand on her thigh arched, his fingers digging into her flesh. "Complete indifference towards you may have been the norm for the past six years, but it obviously isn't now. Since I first possessed you, Hermione, all of my behavior...anything regarding you...cannot, and will not, be described as 'overreacting'."

Hermione let go of the small curl she had been twirling nervously with her fingers. Despite her pulling and tugging, the strand sprang back into its original coil, lightly resting on the flesh of her cleavage. Severus mindlessly watched all this until his vision focused, and he soon realized he was no longer staring at the curl.

Casually raising an elegant hand, Severus trailed his fingers across her flesh under the pretense of pushing that curl over her shoulder.

He gave no indication of noticing Hermione shudder under his touch.

"You asked this of me, Hermione."

"What did I ask?" she whispered.

Severus lowered his face to her throat. "The night you came to me..."

He was whispering much more quietly than Hermione thought possible for his voice.

His lips brushed against her ear. "...lying naked beneath me... body writhing as you begged..."

Hermione certainly remembered now.

I want to feel like I belong to you!

Severus brushed his hand down her leg, edging his fingers beneath the hem of her robes, only to brush it back up again. Lowering his face to her chest, Severus swiped his tongue across her warm skin before lightly biting into her.

"You asked it of me," he said harshly against the rise of her breast, speaking over her moan. "And I'm certainly going to deliver...with no intention of allowing you to change it in the near future."

Hermione gasped as Severus' hand continued to stir beneath her robes. Eyes rolled back, she vaguely wondered if he was threatening her. It certainly sounded like it. Perhaps, she should be analyzing where this was going, and whether or not a relationship with a man like this was even healthy.

Instead, Hermione said the first word that had been dancing in her mind. "Promise?"

Severus' body froze.

Reluctantly dragging his mouth off her tempting flesh, he almost ignored his niggling hesitation. He had somewhat expected Hermione to bristle at the way he was speaking to her, but the pitch of her voice sounded almost... hopeful.

Their bodies had slowly fallen to one side during his harsh whispers, and now he was completely lying on top of her. Pushing himself up slightly, Snape tried to think fast. Was he backing himself into a corner somehow by answering her? Giving far more of himself than he really wanted to?

He thought again of what he had just said. Looking down, he fully took in the luscious, young female splayed beneath him. Bare knee wrapped about the back of his thigh, her robes falling open around her.

Hermione groped his arse as she gyrated against him. Her teeth scrapped his throat, urging him to continue.

Snape hissed as he pushed back.

Severus then envisioned someone else being exactly where he was. Unwillingly, Black popped into his mind. He had to fight the snarl that threatened in his throat.

His hesitation immediately evaporated. He had meant his words.

"Without a doubt."

Severus slid his hand up her inner thigh, his hand quickly sliding under her knickers. Ripping the cloth away from her, Severus proceeded to demonstrate his promise by his actions.

*** *** ***

Late the next evening, Hermione mindlessly hummed a Muggle tune as she lost herself to her patrols.

She would glance up, take in her surroundings, and not remember how she had got there in the first place.

For the next two hours, she continued this, her footsteps echoing against the stone walls of the eerily silent corridors, persistently diverted by her thoughts.

Until... Hermione finally stopped bothering to search the castle for rule-breaking students and decided to busy herself with what she truly wanted to do.

Shivering, her muscles tensed as she continued standing by a window on the second floor, silently gazing out into the white-covered darkness.

Hermione pressed her palm against the freezing glass, sighing despondently. Her eyes danced across the grounds, searching for the dark and lithe form of her Potions master. She nearly pressed her cheek against the window, hoping to extend a few more inches of eyesight across the frozen lawn.

Severus.

She sighed deeply once more, condensation imprinting her palm against the glass.

Hermione had gone to his office earlier in the evening in hopes of... well, she really didn't know what, but she'd had to see him.

She always had to see him... From the time she awoke in the morning until she went to bed... Nothing else consumed her senses with such potency.

But Severus hadn't been there. Nor could she find him hours after that.

So Hermione had no choice but to assume that he had left the castle. Her stomach tensed just thinking about it.

Standing straight, Hermione didn't turn away from her search of the school grounds until her handprint had completely evaporated from the glass.

She turned in the direction of the massive marble staircase.

Smiling to herself, Hermione fantasized at the idea of Severus coming to her rooms sometime before dawn.

Just as he had last time.

Her fantasy involved two completely different scenarios: in one, Severus' face pressed into the hollow of her throat, his hands driving her mad as his cock plunged deep and hard.

Face growing warm, Hermione blindly grasped the stair-banister to steady her descending footsteps.

In the other fantasy, both she and Severus were fully clothed. But that minor detail did not alter the speedy patter of her heartbeat. He was lying on top of her, using the arch of her breasts as a pillow while he spoke freely. He would then allow her to affectionately glide her fingers through his hair as they discussed where he had been and what he had done.

Hermione was honestly starting to believe that that had been her favorite part of the night he had last come to her.

Severus had been obviously upset over his... Death Eater... activity, allowing Hermione to tenderly console him.

And she'd cherished every moment of it.

Then there was last night.

Eyes briefly closing in reflection, Hermione paused when she reached the last step of the staircase.

Hermione wasn't stupid. She knew exactly what type of man she had committed herself to. Severus was possessive, sarcastic, forceful, and passionate. Some of those attributes being much more scary than others.

But he was hers. And from his admission last night...and demonstration...Hermione was thoroughly and completely his.

Which was exactly what she had wanted from the beginning.

"Wait!" a voice resonated in the distance.

Hermione had to slap her hands around her mouth, forcing herself not to scream in fright. Jumping from the last step of the staircase, she spun in half-circles, immediately comprehending that she was in the Entrance Hall of the castle and what her next step needed to be.

The voice was hastily answered by a harsh shush.

Stomach twisting in apprehension, Hermione eyed the dungeon stairway as the voices grew louder. She ran across the dark Entrance Hall. Tucking the hem of her robes between her legs, Hermione huddled behind one of the sizeable stone pillars mounting the Great Hall doors.

"Just let it be, Blaise!" hissed a feminine voice. Only moments later, the voice was followed by the sight of an agitated Pansy Parkinson. Hermione instantly noticed the unusual sight of her fur-collared cloak and bulky snow boots.

Running up the dungeon steps, Zabini had finally caught up with her. "At least tell me where the hell you are going!"

"It's none of your business!"

"Is that right...? Maybe Nott would think this was his business!"

Pansy whirled around, hands clutched against her chest. "Would you really do that? To me?"

Rigidly straightening himself up, Zabini attempted to appear indifferent. He may have been angry, and he was very curious as to where Pansy was going... but he couldn't do that.

The muscles in his face finally pulled away from their stony defiance.

Pansy quickly reached out to give his arm an awkward squeeze. "Thank you," she said so lightly, it was almost a sob.

If those two students had belonged to any other house, Hermione would not have hesitated in coming out of her hiding place by now. She would have docked the necessary points and assigned detentions with their least favorite professor.

But, as she had learned long ago, things were done very differently with Slytherins. Hermione had always watched their preferential treatment, typically at the hands of Professor Snape, while she silently cursed all parties involved for the injustice of it all.

Some things however, as Hermione now knew, were just more important. Discovering what Pansy was up to and where she was going was much more significant than assigning detentions.

Hermione's heart beat wildly as she watched Pansy turn towards the large oak doors, obviously intending to leave the castle.

Should she stop her, Hermione wondered? It would be for her own safety, of course. Hermione had an idea where Pansy was intending to go... and who she was hoping to meet.

Hermione tried imagining herself in Pansy's situation. To what extent would she go... What dangers would she be willing to face if she knew Severus was somewhere remote, alone, and possibly in trouble?

Hermione quickly turned her face away. It was the only way she could physically allow a student to do something so seditious under her guard. She breathlessly listened to Pansy opening the Entrance Hall doors.

The sounds of Zabini's hesitant movements stole Hermione's attention. The instant the top of Zabini's head disappeared down the dungeon stairway, Hermione bolted after Pansy.

Yanking the doors open, she left the castle.

*** *** ***

Furiously shaking her head, Hermione continued chastising herself for her stupid mistake.

She clenched her teeth together hard, fearful of creating too much noise if she wasn't mindful of their chatter.

Her face momentarily scrunched in shame as she once again questioned her own decision making. Hermione knew she should have either made herself known to Pansy before they'd both entered the Forbidden Forest, or she should have remembered to place a Cushioning Charm on her feet before stepping into wild brush. Pansy had been completely unaware that she was being followed as both girls marched across the snow covered lawn.

But when they entered the jarringly silent Forbidden Forest, they hadn't walked more than half a meter before Hermione's boot crunched against a pile of dry leaves and twigs that weren't blanketed by snow.

Pansy had instantly increased her pace as a result.

Breathing heavily from exertion, Hermione now found herself practically chasing the Slytherin.

The perspiration her body created from the exercise was a blessing at the very least. Hermione felt slightly heated...if she made the effort to ignore the fierce wind pushing against her face. She was not as painfully numb as she had first felt running down the front steps of Hogwarts; the shock of stepping into shin-deep snow had also dissipated.

But Hermione recognized that her perspiration would become a horror whenever she stopped running, or if necessary, sat idly in the snow.

Snapping out of her musings, Hermione almost grew hysterical when she thought she had lost Pansy from her line of sight.

The very idea of Pansy being nowhere near her froze the breath in her lungs.

Hermione was fully tempted now to call out to her, to let Pansy know that there wasn't anything dangerous chasing the girl. But in her apparent fright, Pansy was already making enough noise as it was. Who knew what predators were out here, just waiting for potential prey to walk right into their path?

Hermione was also starting to wish she was back at the castle. Or in the very least, had Harry or Ron to participate in this madness alongside her. She cringed, thinking of how foolish and brash just running out into the Forbidden Forest had been.

But no, she thought again with a shake of her head. She couldn't allow Pansy to go running into the wilderness completely by herself. Remus was not only dear to Pansy, but he was also Hermione's fellow Order member. She had a right, if not an obligation, to worry over his wellbeing. She just hoped Pansy had some idea as to where the werewolves' hideout was located.

Werewolves!

Hermione's throat burned from suddenly gasping one large, cold gulp of air as her pulse pounded forcefully in her ears.

In her haste to be a companion for Pansy, and in her righteous desire to find Remus, Hermione had completely forgotten why Remus was in the Forbidden Forest to begin with.

Blindly thrashing past thick brush and under low branches, Hermione lifted her face toward the night sky.

But there was no sky. Only a very tiny peak of star-dotted blackness was visible through the snow covered canopy layering the colossal trees.

Unable to properly gauge the cycle of the moon, Hermione broke out into a cold sweat as she continued chasing Pansy.

*** *** ***

Snarling gleefully once more, Greyback raised his wand, finding childish pleasure in blasting an entire bush out of his path.

"Do remind me," Macnair irritably drawled behind him, "why we are stomping around the Forbidden Forest in the middle of the fucking night!"

Greyback quickly looked over his shoulder as he heavily marched through his newly cleared path. "I ain't goin' in that cave alone!"

"Is it not your cave?" Macnair laughed sardonically. "Really, Greyback... All of this just for fear of one man?"

A thunderous growl rumbled deep in the back of Greyback's throat. He spun toward his fellow Death Eater, his teeth snapping threateningly like a dog. "I ain't afraid of Lupin!"

Macnair froze, and for very good reason. Raising his chin, he haughtily looked down his nose at Greyback, attempting to feign an amused sneer. But it was all pointless.

The werewolf easily smelled his alarm.

Grinning to himself, Greyback's top lip pulled over his gums, revealing unnaturally sharp teeth. He reveled in the idea of this man fearing him, but both knew that his threat was an empty one. Even when provoked, Greyback was very disciplined against attacking a Death Eater who out-ranked him.

"It's ain't jus' Lupin," Greyback clarified, turning away from Macnair to march through the forest.

Self-consciously smoothing out his robes, Macnair stepped back into his superior stride, glaring malevolently at the feral man walking away from him. Fenrir trod the ground heavily footed, shoulders hunched over, with his long arms hanging oddly towards his knees. Macnair wouldn't have been surprised if this half-breed preferred running on all fours.

"Who knows how many of his other Phoenix fucker friends he has with him by now!" Greyback continued. "No... there's no way I'm messin' with that alone."

"And you called me?" Macnair scoffed. "I'm honored."

Greyback cackled gruffly in response.

Increasing his pace to follow the werewolf more closely, Macnair found himself fighting against the urge to warily eye every wide tree and rustling bush.

"What if you're right?" Macnair asked suddenly. His eyes widened at the noticeable apprehension in his voice. He cleared his throat roughly before purposefully snarling, "What if the entire Order is with the pack...? Perhaps just the two of us isn't enough."

"Then, by all means," said Greyback, "call whichever brother you would most like with us."

The Forbidden Forest surrounding the two men remained completely motionless and silent, so there was no one there to question the vindictive smirk that steadily stretched across Macnair's robust jaw. Lifting the left sleeve of his robes to reveal his forearm, he pointed his wand at his inactive tattoo.

If he was going to be forced to challenge, and hopefully kill, Dumbledore's precious Order members, who better to assist him than someone claiming a seat within those ranks?

*** *** ***

What Hermione had been dreading since she first stepped foot into the forest appeared to have happened.

She had completely lost Pansy from her line of vision. She couldn't even hear the Slytherin's frantic thrashing through the snow covered brush.

Hermione's heart dropped as every nerve in her body pulsed.

Nearly hyperventilating, other horrifying scenarios bombarded Hermione's thoughts: images of herself happening upon a pack of hungry werewolves, closing around her as she attempted to fight them off... alone.

Hermione stop running. She needed to steady her breathing.

Calm down, she told herself. Staggering over jutting roots, she braced her hand against a wide tree. Trailing her fingertips upon the rough bark, Hermione circled the base, frantically deciding which way to go... praying to hear sounds of Pansy's retreating steps.

Trying to release a steady sigh, Hermione quickly sucked in a breath again when her breathing threatened to be consumed by frenzied sobs.

Her ear suddenly prickled, hearing movement in the eerily quiet woods, much more rapidly than her mind was able to comprehend.

Wide-eyed, air frozen in her lungs, she snapped towards the sounds.

Hermione flinched away from her perch against the tree as the noises grew more violent. She plainly recognized that they were not the clamoring of a lone and frail girl.

And if it had been Pansy, the sounds shouldn't be coming towards her.

Adrenaline coursing through every vein in her body, Hermione listened to the urging of her nerves. She ran as fast as she could...in the opposite direction of the sounds.

She knew the branches were slicing against her face and arms, but she didn't feel it, nor did she care.

Just when she thought her lungs and legs would give out, a new fright stunned her senses. Nearly yelping in shock, Hermione was unexpectedly pulled back, her cloak snaring on a branch.

She immediately yanked and pulled against her binding, desperately trying to break free.

Hermione was harshly jerked again.

Her back pounded roughly against the frozen ground. A cold hand clasped around her mouth as the blessed sight of Pansy hovered over her vision.

Wide-eyed, Pansy pressed a finger against her lips, signaling the urgency for silence.

Ignoring the throbbing pain shooting up her spine, Hermione quickly turned over. Glancing at Pansy, Hermione snapped her attention in the direction the Slytherin was looking.

Both girls visibly tensed as the echo of snapping branches drifted towards them.

"Gods, no," Pansy gasped under her breath, her face lit in fright. "They heard us."

Holding her breath to listen, Hermione understood that 'they' had indeed heard them. The rustling noises, of obviously more than one person... or thing... was heading right in their direction.

Both girls knew 'they' were too close now to make a run for it. By the same method that Hermione had followed Pansy thus far, whoever was trailing them would easily hear their frantic flight through the forest.

Hermione inhaled sharply at that last thought, almost afraid to listen to the plan that had unwillingly popped into her head.

Horrified, Hermione turned towards Pansy as she quickly jumped onto the balls of her feet, her fingertips dipping into the snow to steady her balance.

Pansy did a double take before glancing at Hermione warily.

Pansy was the one who had come into the forest for a purpose, Hermione thought quickly. And the purpose Hermione herself had trailed the girl the entire way was to guarantee that Pansy reached her destination safely.

A destination that would determine the wellbeing of an Order member.

Neither of their intentions should change now. What good would it do for both of them to be caught and kil-hurt?

It would all have been for nothing. Hermione's face slightly inclined down, her anxious eyes pleading for Pansy to understand.

Which she did, in obvious terror.

Pansy's arm darted out, fingers clenching against the hem of Hermione's cloak.

"No," she whispered.

The rustling was getting even closer.

Hermione quickly lifted herself off the ground, effectively pulling herself out of Pansy's grasp. Bouncing on the balls of her feet, she remained hunched behind the thick bush that hid them, gauging her timing for the right moment.

"You're looking for Lupin," Hermione emotionlessly reminded Pansy. "Wait until they are completely following me."

"No, Hermione!" Both of Pansy's hands yanked hard on her robes, trying to force her back to the ground.

Hermione angrily whirled around, swatting her away. She sent a piercing look towards the girl.

"Don't you dare make any of this a waste!"

Using the sharp movement of turning away from Pansy, Hermione pushed her body with a small wail, flinging herself out from behind the bush.

She ran blindly through the darkness.

Hermione was pushing her body so fast and hard, she knew she was making an appalling amount of noise.

But that was a good thing, she tried to tell herself. She knew her plan had worked when the rustling footsteps had turned into frantic running as well.

Lifting her arms to shield her face, Hermione cried out as she listened to what was chasing her.

She didn't know specifically what kind of creature it was, nor did she know how many there were. A werewolf snarling and snapping would have been terrifying, but they would have had the intelligence of a mere beast. And a centaur she could have pleaded with.

But Hermione recognized that there was definitely more than one predator... and they were laughing as they chased her.

She was openly crying now.

Just a little bit farther...

The tears trailed down her reddened cheeks, burning her skin as the freezing wind cooled against her face. If these creatures were so amused by the chase, Hermione dreaded what other entertainment they would create once they had her.

Come on... faster, Hermione!

Hermione needed to be unquestionably certain that she was a good distance away from Pansy...enabling Pansy to make a total escape before Hermione even considered making one herself. If she Apparated too soon, Pansy's thrashing through the forest would capture their attention.

Despite her attempt to shield herself, thin gashes littered her skin. Hermione couldn't gather her senses. Hopelessly attempting to ignore that pain, as well as the screaming resistance of her legs, she staggered clumsily over the protruding roots and uneven snow.

Gasping wildly, Hermione realized that she needed to center her mind if she wanted to escape safely.

But the chasing footsteps grew closer and closer by the second until Hermione knew they were on her heels.

A body Apparated dead in her path.

Hermione ran hard into a broad chest and strong arms closed around her.

For the briefest of moments, when she fully believed she had reached her end, Hermione selfishly allowed herself another fantasy.

She fantasized that the body currently holding her belonged to Severus.

The black-cloaked figure started shaking uncontrollably as a contemptuous chuckle rumbled in his chest.

The height was completely wrong, Hermione thought to herself, fantasy miserably crumbling. The smell wasn't his... and neither were the hands. Severus wouldn't hold her so painfully.

Hermione still couldn't bring herself to open her eyes. If she didn't see it, it wouldn't feel quite so real.

Hot breaths lowered towards her ear, followed by a wiggling tongue.

She jerked her face away, turning it towards the sky. Finally facing what she dreaded most, Hermione slowly opened her eyes. She focused on the starry, black sky, teasing her through small openings in the snow-covered canopy.

A gruesome face materialized in her peripheral vision.

"I knew I'd eventually catch you," Macnair whispered harshly, his chapped lips scratching against her temple.

*** *** ***

To the detriment of the placid and out-of-breath Death Eaters, Hermione Jane Granger was past panic and sniveling. Recognizing what kind of crisis she was in and who was restraining her, her dread had mutated to outright rage.

"Hold her!" Greyback goaded. Exhaling in exasperation, he stormed towards the flailing girl in Macnair's arms, only to jerk back when she clawed at him.

"LET. ME. GO!" Hermione shrieked at the top of her lungs.

"SHUT UP!" Macnair barked at her. Looking over her curly head, he gasped at Greyback. "I'm t-trying." Macnair snarled impatiently, desirous of catching his breath. He persisted in his shaking and grabbing, recklessly attempting to maintain his hold on the frantic girl wiggling incessantly in his arms.

Every time he reached for her throat, Hermione snapped at him, threatening to bite his hands.

"Fuckin' hell," Greyback moaned. "Let me have her."

With Hermione facing away from him, Greyback effortlessly slid his arms through her elbows, pinning her wrists behind her back.

"Don't touch me!" she screamed. "Death Eater scum..."

Assuming that Greyback was holding her soundly, Macnair released the girl in relief.

But Hermione's flailing didn't stop. Taking advantage of the leverage, Hermione kicked her heels off the ground, landing a formidable swing dead center into Macnair's crotch.

He released an embarrassingly high-pitched scream. Macnair held himself as he keeled over and lay motionlessly on the floor.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Greyback groaned.

"F-fucking... BITCH!"

Invigorated with a new energy, Hermione's thrashing grew worse.

Coughing and gasping, Macnair blindly reached for his wand and flicked it in her direction.

She screamed in pain, heat searing through her cloak and robes. Bending over, Hermione groaned dreadfully as the ache in her side intensified.

All three of them were far too distracted to notice a fourth in their midst.

Snape couldn't believe the scene he had Apparated to. When his brother Death Eaters had Summoned him, he'd impatiently waited; he couldn't Apparate to their location if they didn't stop moving.

When the minutes dragged on, it suddenly dawned on Snape that they must have been on a chase.

Why they would be running through the blasted forest, he didn't know. And why they were holding her, Severus certainly couldn't say.

The sight of Hermione, here, combined with her sweat-drenched and bloodied face, stunned him so severely, Snape hesitated in making himself known.

Half-hidden behind a tree, Severus continued silently observing as much as he could before deciding to make a move... until he was shocked into action by that horrid scream.

"Well, well," Severus drawled as he stepped onto the scene. "All this trouble for one little girl? Please don't tell me I was Summoned to assist you in this?"

Turning his face away from the floor, Macnair glared hatefully at his brother Death Eater. Macnair despised the idea of Snape, of all people, seeing him laying arse up in the snow. He scampered to stand up.

"And neither of you are wearing your masks," Severus drawled. "Have you learned nothing from... Hogsmeade, Macnair?"

"Oh, shut the fuck up, Snape," Macnair snarled as he straightened his robes. "We were on our way to one of Greyback's packs when we called you. And then this happened."

"Why the hell is she out here?" Severus hissed impatiently. His sour manner, of course, went unquestioned by Greyback and Macnair. Severus Snape found disfavor in everything, especially when in want of answers. The men thought he was impatient for information, but Snape was livid that he had been placed in this situation.

The deafening silence of the Forbidden Forest rang in their ears. Perplexed, the Death Eaters gazed around until they were aware that the girl's frenzied screaming had stopped.

Everyone turned in her direction at the unusual silence.

Face smudged from blood and dirt, wild hair haloed around her face, Hermione stared wide-eyed at the snow. Arms pinned behind her in Greyback's ruthless grasp, Hermione's chest vigorously heaved.

"P-professor... Snape?" she hiccupped.

Macnair released a booming laugh. Slapping his knee, his previous pain throbbed anew, turning his laugh into a pitiful cough.

"Yes," Greyback hissed in her ear. "Yes... your precious Potions master is a valued servant for the Dark Lord."

Hermione physically sagged in his arms.

Severus was at a loss for words. Was she playing a part? If not, why would his presence make her so... miserable?

Macnair and Greyback rightfully assumed that the girl was crumbling from the shocking revelation of the allegiance of a Hogwarts professor.

The terror that had spread over her features persevered as her body began to shake uncontrollably.

Conveniently hidden behind his mask, Severus uneasily stared at Hermione. From the moment he had comprehended her presence, dozens of scenarios had flashed through Severus' mind. Scenarios of how, if it were at all possible, he could save her. And for a brief moment, he'd resented her for placing him in this situation. Severus internally cringed at the idea of her calling him out by name, of her revealing a personal relationship with him.

Personal relationship or not, Severus knew that dueling two Death Eaters in the hopes of saving an exhausted girl would have a tragic end for himself. Perhaps not for his life...he truly believed they could get away...but for his purpose. His usefulness as a spy would come to an end.

Severus head swiftly snapped up. As Hermione continued to fall to pieces, he finally realized what was troubling him so much.

Hermione had yet to even look at him. Especially his eyes.

"She's quite a nasty mess," Macnair chided, staggering towards her. "But some fun she'll be!"

Greyback and Macnair broke out in raunchy laughter.

Severus silently thundered closer to the three of them. On the exterior, his typically reserved nature did not draw the attention of his brother Death Eaters. But underneath his robes and mask, every nerve was on fire.

He continued to watch Hermione, silently praying that she would look up at him.

Snape knew she could clearly see his robes as she continued to cry at the floor. But when she still didn't look up, Snape shook his head in appalled disbelief. He instantly comprehended that she had analyzed the situation exactly the same as he had... And had come to the same conclusions.

She feared the situation she would force Snape into if she begged for his help. It appeared Albus' brainwashing and 'Order mentality' was now complete, Severus thought hatefully to himself. For years, the Headmaster had audaciously instructed that 'no sacrifice was too great in order to maintain his position'.

And now Hermione believed it as well.

His brother Death Eaters' sneers and cackles barely registered in his mind as they continued taunting Hermione, obviously believing that they were the means behind her despair.

But Severus knew better. Standing unnaturally still, he continued staring at her, hoping... pleading that she would look into his eyes. His mind was already prepared. If she would just glance at him, they could synchronize a plan to get out of this situation.

It was now or never.

All three men audibly hissed, bodies flinching in the direction of their left arms.

Severus inhaled sharply, but not from the pain of his tattoo. He looked at Hermione in dread.

Now... it was too late.

"We cannot take her," Snape said forcefully.

Hermione slowly closed her eyes, bleakly raising her face towards the sky.

Macnair swallowed. He measured the situation as he gazed at the girl sullenly. He refused to waste this.

"It's fine," he snarled, snatching her out of Greyback's meaty arms.

Face still pointed in the air, Hermione opened her eyes as she was passed into another's hold. She knew Severus was looking at her, burning holes with his eyes... but she couldn't let herself see it.

As all three men prepared for their Apparition, Severus' internal screaming had not stopped.

He wanted her... needed her to beg him to save her. He needed to hear her say it because he couldn't face the fact that he hadn't done it of his own accord.

"Nothing," Severus muttered hatefully under his breath. He tormented himself as he said the word again, over and over. Because that was exactly what he had chosen to do.

Macnair's burly hands dug into Hermione's arms as he prepared to turn into the Apparition. The cold breeze brushed against Hermione's face. Stomach tensing in fear of the unknown, Hermione decisively focused her eyes. Glancing up, her heart and fears silently spoke to Severus when she finally looked at him at the precise moment both knew it was too late.

---

Author's Notes: This 'half' of the chapter had to be completely rewritten (my computer ate itself) which explains the long wait.

-Story beta'ed by the very talented melusin.

-Chapter title taken from John Milton's Paradise Lost, Book ii. Line 90.

-Next up: The Dark Lord and Hermione's experiences with 'Death Eater scum.'