Chapter Twenty Two - These Troublesome Disguises Which We Wear

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

Author's Notes: My beta, melusin, made this chapter nice and shiny for your reading pleasure.

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Snape smoothly steadied his balance. His boots touching down on the wooden floorboards, he instantaneously perceived the number of Death Eaters in the parlor room. Flowing black cloak after black cloak, firelight scorching identical masks, the men were forced to push their backs against the mouldy papered walls to secure a personal space of clean air.

Indifference promptly reined in; Snape did not turn towards the three bodies that had accompanied him from the Forbidden Forest. It wasn't intentional, but he had also turned his back so Hermione wasn't even visible from the corner of his eye.

The Dark Lord was not in the room, Snape mentally noted. If he had been, the Death Eaters wouldn't be slouched together in small clusters, laughing as they moaned about the inconveniences of the week's latest raids.

A meeting of this magnitude had not been called in a fairly long time. The Dark Lord usually preferred addressing only very particular circles of men. The more secretively he assigned orders, the more likely his loyal subjects would grow wary of his brother standing next to him. This was also a very effective method for building irrational paranoia and forcing wary informers to loosen their lips. An environment drenched in fear had always been the ideal method for a madman to maintain his position of authority.

Various Death Eaters below Severus' rank casually stepped out of his path as he made an elegant sweep of the room. Completing a full round, Severus finally took notice of something he realized he had been trying to ignore.

Hermione had started flailing again. Severus stormed across the room towards Macnair. Rolling his eyes, he sneered at the sight of Macnair attempting to put on his mask while struggling to prevent Hermione from pulling away.

"Can't you keep her STILL!" Snape thundered.

Hermione tensed at the forcefulness of Snape's voice. It was very obvious to whom he was really speaking. Macnair shook her hard in an effort to prove to Snape that he could adequately control his captive.

Neck snapping brutally, Hermione squeaked as she bit her tongue. She obediently sagged in Macnair's arms.

The conversational murmuring that their small party had Apparated into slowly began to quieten down. Numerous heads turned in Hermione's direction, attention drawn to the only body in the room not wearing black robes and a mask.

Sensing Macnair's distraction as well as the pompous lifting of his shoulders, Hermione sucked in her breath before yanking her hand out of Macnair's grasp. She thrust her arm into the air only to ram her elbow down into his gut.

She released a titter of hysterical giggling at the familiar pitch of Macnair's screams.

Initially, most of the Death Eaters were stunned into silence. But when they realized that Hermione was not one of their party, and merely a young girl Macnair had been struggling to subdue, raucous laughter rang against the walls.

This, Severus immediately realized, was a very big mistake. Turned away from their diligent watch of the door, the Dark Lord was forced to make his entrance into a sea of men with their backs towards him.

An ear-splitting hiss sputtered from his throat.

The men simultaneously groaned in alarm. A wave of movement flowed across the room as all the followers immediately turned, their knees slamming to the floor. Macnair slapped his hand around Hermione's mouth, forcing her to the ground with him.

But Macnair's efforts weren't necessary. Hermione had absolutely no intention of drawing attention to herself.

Breathing heavily through the thin slits in the center of his face, the Dark Lord's red eyes darted around the room, intent on locating the culprit for the mutinous diversion that had caused so many to be careless in his presence.

The Dark Lord took two quick steps forward, forcing the Death Eaters at his feet to flinch back. "Move," he growled.

The kneeling Death Eaters pushed themselves back with their hands. The Dark Lord stepped into their cleared space, forcing two more Death Eaters to scamper away from him. A path quickly carved out of the fearfully reverent men.

The Dark Lord stormed forward, and Severus Snape did not second guess where he was heading. A few deafening seconds passed before their master's determined stride paused. The Dark Lord towered over Macnair, whose body was half-covering Hermione. Snape slowly closed his eyes.

The room had grown tense. Breathing had hesitated; the Death Eaters waited for some type of action before releasing an apprehensive exhale.

The Dark Lord stared blankly at the intruder hiding beneath Macnair. Face expressionless, he stood unnaturally still.

Macnair's face was down, mask nearly pressed against the floorboards. His eyes darted around, looking at other Death Eaters for some hint as to what the Dark Lord was doing. Finally focusing on the creature's robes, Macnair eyed the hem, waiting for some type of movement.

Hermione's breathing grew hysterical under his hands.

"What is this?" the Dark Lord finally asked, his voice calm.

Macnair released a shaky breath. Leaning back slightly on the balls of his feet, he lifted his vision to his master's midriff. "A... captive, my Lord..."

"Stand!"

Macnair jerked himself up.

"That much is very obvious. What I really want to know is why you have brought her to my summons?"

"We couldn't let her escape, Master. She saw us without our masks!" Macnair urged.

Snape snorted under his breath.

When Snape's outburst went unacknowledged and unpunished, Macnair's mood instantly soured.

"We...?" the Dark Lord repeated.

"Greyback and I were on our way to one of hi-your werewolf communities. We called Snape to assist us before we happened upon her."

Greyback was nowhere to be seen at this moment. But the Dark Lord felt his presence in the room and knew the werewolf was pressed against the wall with every other low ranking Death Eater.

"You should have killed her, then, before you came," the Dark Lord said emotionlessly.

Macnair gaped at the floor. He wanted to argue, but he dared not to...

The Dark Lord straightened himself up, turning smoothly towards Severus, who was off to his left. The moment he made eye contact with his Hogwarts' spy, the creature snapped back towards Macnair.

"Severus advised you not to bring her... yet you chose to, anyway."

"I-she," Macnair muttered, his confidence falling apart all around him. "She's... She's the Mudblood whore of Harry Potter, Master!" Macnair gasped importantly.

At the sound of intrigued murmuring from his brother Death Eaters, Macnair stood a bit straighter, feeling like the situation had just been saved.

"And that should matter to me... because...?" the Dark Lord responded casually.

Severus smirked as he watched Macnair's eyes startle behind his mask.

"You could... use her... my Lord."

"No." The Dark Lord smoothly turned away. He marched silently around his kneeling followers before speaking further. "No, Macnair... I will not. But it seems very evident to us all that you intended to use her, and now you are wasting my time with your pathetic excuses."

Macnair suddenly released a strange gagging sound, startling the Death Eaters surrounding him. Men jumped back as he fell to his knees. Macnair's arms reached up, clawing at his throat. He couldn't breathe. He scratched viciously at his neck, intent on removing the invisible barrier that was pressing against his windpipe.

Hermione curled further into a ball as Macnair thrashed on the floor by her feet. By the time his screams mutated to gruesome retching, Hermione had lost all ability to find humor in his pain.

Clenching her eyes shut, she fisted her hands against her ears.

Severus' eyes darkened. Unlike every other gawking face in this room, his vision had been focused on the captive, not Macnair.

The unnaturalness of the Dark Lord's rigidity finally released. Simultaneously, Macnair groaned while sucking in a large gulp of air. Turning onto his back, he laid still as he steadied his breathing.

"I shouldn't have to give any of you a lesson in this," the Dark Lord drawled. "You are summoned for my pleasure, amusement, and especially your usefulness. Don't you dare come here with ulterior motives."

As the Dark Lord said this, he weaved between his kneeling subjects. Finally making a full circle, he made contact with Snape's penetrating eyes.

"Rise!" the Dark Lord immediately commanded, unnaturally swallowing thickly.

Another wave of obedience washed around him.

The Dark Lord turned pointedly to the only Death Eater struggling to separate himself from the floor. "Take your prisoner to the courtyard, Macnair, and wait for further instruction. I don't want to smell her polluted blood any longer."

Groaning as he pushed himself off the floor, Macnair immediately complied.

Hermione struggled to remain silent as she was yanked up by her hair.

Walden pushed and tugged at his captive. His body half-numb, hers exhausted, a ruckus of noise followed them as they disappeared further into the house. The Dark Lord waited until the thudding and shrieking ended with the kitchen door being slammed shut.

"Severus!" he barked.

Snape stepped forward. "Yes, Master," he said smoothly with his head respectfully bowed.

"I... demand to be further informed of this evening's events... privately. Follow me into the next room." The Dark Lord glared in disgust at those closest to him before sharply whirling around.

"Of course, my Lord."

*** *** ***

Pansy gasped in relief the moment the sound of water reached her.

Pansy didn't think she could find the strength to continue running through the wild woods. When those horrid noises had wildly chased after Hermione, laughing and taunting, Pansy hadn't been able to remain in hiding any longer. Half a glance had been enough for her to recognize those haunting black robes.

She had pushed herself away from her huddle in the snow, running blindly with all her might to separate herself from the presence of Death Eaters.

When her steps had slowed, Hermione's screams had reached her ears.

The Gryffindor's voice sounded hollow, drowned out by the thickness of the forest. Yet, Hermione's fright was still tangible.

Pansy had run faster.

By the time Pansy had reached the small stream she had been looking for, the echo of Hermione's shrieking had abruptly cut off. It wasn't until the Forbidden Forest became silent that the idea of going back crossed Pansy's mind.

Pansy inhaled sharply, turning her face towards the water. The inclination to help Hermione wasn't felt until Pansy knew it was too late. She suddenly became light headed. Shaking her hands wildly, Pansy fought to maintain her control.

Was it really a desire to help, then? Or was she just trying to make herself feel better for never turning back? Pansy didn't possess the answers for those questions, and she hated the self-doubt it engendered.

It's too late, she told herself. Alone in this dreary forest, she needed to focus all her energy on taking care of herself.

Sharply shaking her head, Pansy pushed onward with a loud squeak. She would follow the winding stream as far as it would take her. All she remembered Remus telling her was that the cave mounted a steep hill overlooking the riverbank.

Remus would never have told Pansy the exact location of the cave he had visited on occasion. Not long before the last Hogsmeade trip, Remus had informed Pansy that he would be staying there for a few days. A few days had turned into a month, and Pansy wished that they had not argued before he'd left.

Why had he not sent word to her? Did he think she was still angry? Was he still angry with her?

Maybe he'd stayed with the werewolves because he had nothing to come back to. Maybe he just didn't want to see her anymore...

Pansy stopped walking after that last thought. After everything that had happened tonight, could she handle Remus dismissing her? Would she just accept his rejection and turn back?

Fears crushing her one after another, Pansy sharply turned on her heel, plowing through the snow in the direction that she came.

*** *** ***

Severus elegantly walked out of the parlor room with his back straight, his countenance rigid with importance at being singled out. He knew the other Death Eaters would murmur in jealous curiosity as soon as he and the Dark Lord had stepped into a different room to discuss matters.

He followed the Dark Lord down a darkened hallway. Severus' ears strained for any voices or movement downstairs. Hearing none, he felt no desire to question the matter further. Severus' face twitched slightly behind his mask.

The Dark Lord smoothly entered the bedroom. He fluidly slipped through the opened crack without touching the door.

Once the crumbling door had closed behind them, Snape immediately fell to his knees. "Forgive me, my Lord," Severus obediently pleaded at the dust.

The creature stepped closer, the hem of his robes brushing against the Potions master's clasped knuckles.

Severus was completely taking advantage of his last chance to save the girl.

His current state of mind refused to acknowledge that it would be his first and only attempt as well.

Ever the obedient Death Eater, Snape was also Dumbledore's man. And Snape did not need to force his mind to remember this. It was instinctual for him. Yet, such devotion was also troublesome as he struggled to ignore the voice of Albus Dumbledore shouting in the back of his mind.

Swallowing, Severus' temples throbbed painfully as he continued to wait for his master's acknowledgement of his reverence. His mind refused to settle as the silence dragged on.

Severus knew that Dumbledore would not have hesitated in sacrificing the girl if the only means of her rescue necessitated the information that was about to pass through Severus' lips.

Dumbledore would have made it an order to dispose of her. No question.

But Severus had already put the thought of Hermione's wellbeing aside. After his arm had scorched, and the intoxicating pain of his summons had surged through him, he'd found it fairly easy to continue keeping thoughts of her at bay. What he really needed now was to divulge something essential in order to save his own life. The Dark Lord had already made it very clear that he didn't want to see Severus again unless he was accompanied by Black. Coincidentally, Hermione was essential for the plan that had quickly connected in his head.

So here Snape was with Black nowhere to be found.

Dumbledore was dependent on Snape's infiltration among the Death Eaters, and Snape had always known that. But the old leader wouldn't have hesitated in sacrificing Severus' life, either. He would certainly mourn the loss of a friend, Severus acknowledged bitterly, but Dumbledore would have killed the Potions master himself if Snape's continued existence jeopardized the 'greater good.'

Greater good be damned, Severus emotionlessly thought. Dumbledore's agenda wasn't essential to Severus anymore, and it hadn't been for a very long time. And Snape didn't feel the least bit disloyal as he thought this. Deceiving the Order did not equate devotion to the Dark Lord.

Severus' allegiance, first and foremost, was to himself.

Snape merely wanted to guarantee that he would walk out of this house, able bodied...and if he was lucky...accompanied by his new possession.

"My Lord," Snape repeated bravely. He was one of the few Death Eaters the Dark Lord indulged. Severus had always known this, and now he was going to take full advantage of it. "You are completely accurate in the uselessness of the Mudblood in regards to Potter... but Black..."

If they had been still among those assembled, the room would have visibly tensed when that daring 'but' exited Snape's mouth. 'But' was virtually telling the Dark Lord that he had been absolutely and plainly wrong in his previous decision. Thankfully, Severus was sharp enough to use Occlumency to request such things in the privacy of his mind so as not to undermine the Dark Lord's authority. And using his distinctive cunning, Snape also knew to immediately follow the 'but' with a name sure to titillate the Dark Lord more than 'Potter'.

"What about Black?" the Dark Lord snapped impatiently.

Severus' breathing grew quick as he organized his words. "It has very recently come to my attention that Black possesses an obsessive infatuation for that Mudblood."

The Dark Lord glared at Snape through narrowed eyes, doubting the convenience of the word 'recently'. The Dark Lord also doubted the possibility of a Mudblood being desirable to a pure-blood wizard like Black.

"Black is hopelessly and disgustingly... depressed, my Lord. Dumbledore has sensed this as well. The old man is hopeful that the company of the girl will dissuade Black from suddenly taking his own life... or whatever life he has at the moment."

"Suicide!" the Dark Lord gasped, clearly appalled.

"Yes, Master. I am not certain why Dumbledore wishes for Black to continue his existence...to continue winding his timepiece...but I do believe that the old fart has not completely seen the consequences of his actions. By placing the girl in Black's path, Black has become lustful and obsessive. Not only does he want to continue to... exist... but I now fully believe that his pursuit of the wench has been, and will continue to be, a large factor in his..."

Voldemort jerked towards Snape. His excitement was palpable.

Snape tensed as his master palmed the underside of his jaw. Yanking his mask away, the Dark Lord carelessly discarded it on the floor. His scaly hands wrapped around Snape's face, instructing him to rise.

The Dark Lord could not feel Severus' horror. He never did. Snape had never seen him so fervent and nauseatingly giddy. It turned his stomach. Unlike other power hungry Death Eaters, Snape did not find pleasure in gifting this creature with such emotions. Tilting his face up, Severus willingly allowed his master to view the scene that had happened between Hermione and the mutt in Black's office only a day ago. Severus feigned curious amusement while hiding the bubbling fury this memory was forcing him to relive. He could almost feel the pleasure again at kicking in the door.

The Dark Lord hungrily watched Hermione in the arms of the licentious madman. He nearly laughed at the spectacle of Black's gleaming eyes becoming guilt-ridden when he sprang away from the Mudblood at the idea of being caught groping a student.

Pulling himself out of Snape's mind, the Dark Lord gazed at Severus in bewilderment... and pleasure.

"You are obviously correct, Severus."

Severus bowed his head in acceptance of such praise. When the Dark Lord did not speak further, Severus knew he was allowed to fill the silence. "It is thanks to you, my Lord. Black would not have contemplated such ideas if he had not read your ancient text. He would not have known that he possessed a... choice... in extending his life...existence beyond the incessant torment of worrying over and protecting the object confining his soul."

"My faithful servant," the Dark Lord repeated mockingly, "obviously remembers my warning for our next meeting... this meeting."

Severus certainly did. Black should have been the one to see the Dark Lord first.

"Black's reluctance at immortality has surprised even me, my Lord! Now, I think I completely understand why. He held absolutely no reason or motivation in his life worth a never-ending existence... until now."

"Love..." the Dark Lord sneered in acknowledgement. "And with a Mudblood, no less!"

Severus' hands fisted at his side. His words were betraying more than one person.

Dumbledore's sad face unwillingly appeared behind Snape's closed eyes. He shook him away. Severus' face clenched in suppressed mortification before he spewed the exact words he knew the Dark Lord wanted to hear. "Yes, Master. Because of this one girl, Sirius Black will finally be tempted toward immortality. For her love," Severus spat, "he will finally turn his burden... his timepiece... into a Horcrux."

*** *** ***

Pansy didn't know if she was being brave or foolish but after walking through a meter of her own footprints, she turned around again, determined to find Remus' cave.

Recalling the quick bites of stories about his nightlife, Pansy used the same means that Remus had when he had first found this pack. She first searched for a stream, which she was now walking along, and then for any evidence that the riverbank had recently been visited.

Half-stumbling now from exhaustion and cold, Pansy paused abruptly. She blankly stared at the snow by her boots.

A large patch had recently been disturbed. The snow was clumped and muddy, multiple footprints leading away from the river. Pansy stood in place as her eyes followed the erratic trail until it disappeared up a steep hill...the top of which was leveled and formed the base of another small hill... and the opening of a cave.

She warily eyed the handprints mixed in with the foot impressions.

This had to be it.

Legs giving out, Pansy dumbly sat in the mushy snow as she continued staring up at the cave. Remus was in there... right there.

But... now what?

Pansy certainly knew she couldn't just walk right in and calling out for him would have been completely stupid.

She shakily reached a frozen hand into her robes, retrieving her wand. She concentrated on any and all memories she had of Remus. Not until he had become a powerful force in her life had she been able to learn the basic concepts of producing a Patronus. And only after diligent practice under his guard had she finally been able to create one.

Pansy looked down at her extended arm. This would be the first time she had ever sent her signal to him.

Pansy flicked it in the direction of the cave. A silvery mist grew at the tip of her wand before a small, four-legged animal sprung out of the tip. The tiny pug excitedly sprinted up the side of the hill and disappeared into the cave.

A thunderous snarl growled angrily, echoing against the stone walls.

Pansy's body was already shaking from her huddle in the snow. Gasping in dread, she pushed herself up.

The sounds of a heated argument grew to a chaotic roar. Fidgeting in place, she finally thrust herself behind a large boulder.

She knew what werewolves thought of wizards, and no doubt the sight of a spell entering their domain would frighten and anger them. Pansy just hoped that it wouldn't anger Remus as well.

Pushing herself up slightly, Pansy peeked over the surface of the boulder. The shadow of a cloaked man swelled across the interior wall of the cave. Unable to blink, Pansy watched as he calmly exited the fissure and slowly edged down the hill.

It was Remus.

Pansy was burning to run out to him, but she knew she needed to be patient. She watched and waited as he trailed the stream in her direction, his eyes frantically searching the darkness.

When he finally located her footprints, Pansy uneasily stood up, revealing her location. Remus paused, her presence catching him off guard.

Remus nervously walked in her direction with his face turned towards the entrance to the cave. Making certain that no one had followed him out, Remus finally turned to eye Pansy.

He flinched slightly, caught unprepared again by how close she was. He didn't remember walking so fast. His breath hitched as he noticed the dilation of her pupils.

"You shouldn't have come," were the first words out of Remus' mouth.

Pansy didn't have the energy to feel offended. Half-sobbing, she closed the steps that separated them, her arms wrapping around his waist.

Remus gasped, not ever remembering an instance where she'd initiated contact. At the feel of her body shaking against him, his arms reached down, returning the embrace with equal energy.

"You shouldn't have come," he repeated in a miserable whisper before pressing his lips against her temple.

Lost in the satisfaction of holding her, Remus realized that Pansy's shaking had grown worse.

She was crying. He carefully peeled her away.

"What is it?"

"Stupid.... Stupid girl!" Pansy cried. Her face cringed in the remembrance of everything that had happened just for the hope of this selfish moment.

Remus gazed at her in complete confusion. "Who?"

"I'm so happy and relieved to finally find you, Remus!" Pansy gasped. "But it also feels wrong. I could have... I should have stopped her! But... I didn't want to... Oh, gods... I didn't want to..."

"WHO, Pansy?"

"Hermione!"

The extent of Remus' surprise was obvious. Pansy's excitement grew to near hysteria as she relayed everything that had taken place up to the present moment. He didn't leave go his hold on her arms, and by the end of her tale, his fingers were digging into her flesh.

Warily, Pansy watched Remus blankly staring at the snow while his mind absorbed what she had just told him.

"How did she know you were looking for me?" Remus barked suddenly.

"She knows," Pansy squeaked.

Remus shook her hard. "WHAT DOES SHE KNOW?"

Eyes widening, Pansy barely yelped as he crushed her to his chest.

"I'm sorry." Remus sounded very pained for his actions. The idea of someone being privy to his affair with a student frightened him, but he didn't mean to take that out on Pansy. Imagining Pansy and himself being exposed filled him with the shame that a man should feel for desiring a student twenty years younger than him.

"Hermione saw us," Pansy mumbled against his filthy robes. She pushed herself away to speak more clearly. "Or heard us...I don't know which, exactly...in Hogsmeade."

Gliding his finger against Pansy's reddened cheek, he regretfully looked down at her as they both remembered the words exchanged the last time they had seen each other.

Remus suddenly gasped, registering that Pansy had just told him that Hermione had been attacked by Death Eaters. "We must summon the Order." He turned from her to search for the wand he had hidden in the forest.

"NO!" Pansy shrieked. She yanked on his arm before Remus was able to completely pull away.

"What do you mean, 'no'? What's wrong with you? We can't just leave her out there like that!"

"She might already be dead! Summon the Order!" Pansy scoffed. "And then what?"

"And then what?" Remus repeated impatiently.

"How are we going to explain why you know she was in the Forbidden Forest to begin with? She was following me, Remus! And how are we going to explain why I'm even here?"

Pansy focused on a point beyond Remus, her eyes growing wide. As if suddenly grasping something, she looked pointedly at him once more. "My gods... If Nott or my father were to find out..."

"Okay...Pansy! Calm down." Remus' hands closed around her face.

"They'd kill me! I wouldn't even have a grave..."

Remus jerked her lightly. "It won't come to that! Calm down, Pansy!"

Gritting his teeth, Remus tried to grasp the right thing to do. "We're going to have to do... something. If Hermione is alive, or found, an explanation of some sort will be needed. The Order would want know the truth..."

"Which you're not going to tell them." Pansy's hands fisted against his robes.

After a long silence, Remus finally said, "No... I'm not."

*** *** ***

"You're such a slut," Parvati nastily hissed. Seated across from her best friend in the common room, she had been staring at Lavender emotionlessly. The screeching blonde had finally demanded to know what Parvati was thinking about. Best friends tell each other the truth, Parvati thought to herself.

Lavender smiled slightly, shocked and humored at Parvati's sudden bluntness. Leaning back into her seat, she carelessly dangled her legs over the armrests while she raised her left hand in the air. Lavender took her time admiring the bright green shade she had just added to her nails. "You're just jealous."

Parvati snorted mockingly. "I'm sooo jealous that you're going to be the size of a baby Hippogriff in five months."

"Watch it," Lavender snapped without thinking. Suddenly worrying if anyone was watching them, Lavender warily glanced around the common room without moving her head. Satisfied that the two of them possessed a degree of privacy for this conversation, Lavender glared at Parvati before growling through clenched teeth, "In almost seven months."

"Right." Parvati grinned knowingly. "Seven months..." she drawled. "Has he even given you a ring yet?"

"Nope. I'll just have Harry take me shopping during the holidays."

Parvati dramatically rolled her eyes, reaching for the copy of Witch Weekly on the end table. "Don't count on it. Everyone knows that Harry is such tight-fisted..."

"You can get a lot out of a man when you shag them silly."

"Everything except a marriage. You shagged Weasley silly, and he dropped you out of boredom. You obviously need to be up the duff to get a husband."

No longer dangling her shapely legs, Lavender's heels slammed to the floor as she faced Parvati head on. "What the hell is your problem?"

"I've no idea what you're talking about." Parvati sighed, feigning boredom.

"You are jealous, or else you wouldn't be so bitter. You're envious of me because I have secured my future, with a celebrity I might add... Where as you... You'll be unmarried after your NEWTs and end up on the streets or a common laborer."

Lavender felt such satisfaction to finally say this out loud. As the color faded from Parvati's face, Lavender smirked openly. Every social climbing witch in the school knew there was nothing worse than to be forced to earn your own living. Since she'd been twelve, Lavender had had every intention of marrying into affluence...not earning it.

Weasley may have been a step down, due to his non-existent family fortune, but he was a pure-blood and best mate of Harry Potter. The Harry Potter. Some type of financial reward would have had to come of that, eventually.

But when her precious Won-Won had tossed her aside, Lavender had been determined to go after the next best thing.

"I am perfectly content with Dean," Parvati insisted snottily.

"I suppose I should be asking to see your ring... but you obviously can't have one yet if your boyfriend hasn't proposed."

"I am certain that Dean will ask me to marry him!"

"No, no. You see, I am certain that I'm going to get married... but I definitely will hope for the best for you."

"You're getting married?" A doubtful yet curious voice rang behind Lavender.

Both girls froze. Parvati's expression broke out in delight as she stared at Lavender, whose mouth was gaping in an odd smile.

Lavender turned around slowly. She eyed Ginny with the nastiest mask of fake pity she could muster.

"Acknowledging my presence now, I see?" Lavender said bitterly.

Taken aback slightly, Ginny leaned on one hip and cocked an eyebrow that insisted Lavender elaborate.

The conversation Lavender had just had with Parvati incited a forceful swell of bravery and self-importance. She had tried so hard at the beginning of the year to build a friendship with this girl, she thought to herself. It had been the only way Lavender thought she could get closer to Harry.

Ginny and that frizzy-haired-uptight-swot, Hermione. Those girls, Lavender thought bitterly, had always fancied themselves to be so... special. Always sneaking out at night. Always mentioned in the tabloids. Always invited to Dumbledore's or McGonagall's office for fancy, important... tea parties! And never mind that Lavender thought Hagrid was the most beastly creature employed at this school; she wouldn't have ever visited him in that wretched hut if they'd asked her to. But damn them for never asking!

Ginny finally attempted to fill the uncomfortable silence. "If you are getting married, I would like to do what is proper and congratulate you."

Lavender smiled the loathsome, pitiful smirk. Tapping Ginny on the wrist, Lavender cooed, "Go and wish Harry congratulations. You're his... friend... not mine."

Ginny released a small burst of uncomfortable laughter. "What?"

Lavender shrugged her shoulders dismissively. Turning her back on the redhead to face Parvati, she purposelly snorted loudly before walking away.

"What?" Ginny said again, blood draining from her face. Her eyes shot at Parvati.

Hand over her mouth, Parvati shook her head slightly, pretending she didn't have the faintest idea what was going on as she attempted to hide her sadistic amusement.

*** *** ***

Severus had a very sour taste in the back of this throat.

Everything about tonight was twisted. He had promptly left the Dark Lord as he was dismissed and instructed to attend to the captive. Snape sneered to himself. He hated that word.

Thundering down the staircase, his pace did not slow as he reached the small kitchen. Quickly gliding across the uneven linoleum floor, Snape flung the back door open.

Severus startled Macnair. The Death Eater flinched away from a shadowed mass lying motionlessly in the frozen grass of the back garden.

"What did you do?" Severus asked dangerously.

Macnair attempted to straighten his back, ripping his mask off with one fluid movement. He returned Severus' glare, refusing to answer him.

Snape's eyes darkened. "She is under my charge now, you..."

"WHAT?" Macnair thundered.

The corner of Severus' lip twitched up, his eyes flashing vindictively. "I do not have to explain my orders to you. Now go, the Dark Lord wishes you to join the rest."

Macnair lunged at Snape. His gruesomely contorted face displayed the pure hatred he had for this man and his desire to punish Snape for everything that had gone wrong tonight.

With his hand already grasping the wand in his sleeve, Severus promptly armed himself. Macnair didn't see it but paused in his attack when the wooden tip dug into his already sensitive neck.

Fear spread over Macnair's features, then embarrassment when he realised Snape had seen it. Glancing at the body on the floor, he barked, "I do not have to take orders from you!"

Severus shoved the wand harder into his throat. "My birth may prevent me from ever attaining your rank, Macnair, but we all know I am but one of the few whom the Dark Lord truly trusts. Don't join the rest, and see what our master does..."

A frustrated growl rumbled in Macnair's sensitive neck. Admitting defeat, he quickly spun on his heels.

When the back door had slammed shut, Severus turned to the body lying in the mud... to his newly appointed captive. He slowly edged towards her.

Hermione attempted to move at the sound of his boots crunching against the muddy snow. She groaned when her body resisted.

Severus pinched the bridge between his brows and sighed. He was not used to dealing with helpless individuals on nights like this. Helplessness had never been attractive to him in his daily life. And it certainly didn't ignite the basic human response of compassion...not when dressed as he was tonight.

Severus knelt on the ground next to her in an effort to gauge the severity of her wounds.

Hermione's eyes flittered open. She gazed at his black robes and flinched away from his outstretched hands.

"I need to see where you are wounded," he dispassionately commanded.

Hermione's breathing stopped, but Severus knew it was not due to her wounds. She released her breath at the realization of who was leaning over her and turned her body slightly to face him. Blood from the wound on her side gushed onto Severus' thighs. Looking down, he acknowledged that the dirty mush he was kneeling in was not muddy snow. Pulling out his wand, he went to work at closing her wounds.

"Severus..."

Severus' jaw clenched at the hoarseness of her voice.

"Severus..." The word died on Hermione's tongue as she gasped again. Her eyes widened when she realized that she had spoken his given name. She had been so determined not to reveal her connections with Severus. All night, just when she thought she would pass out from fright, Hermione forcibly bit her tongue to keep herself from screaming his name.

But it wasn't just the life-threatening consequences she feared that kept her from asking for his help.

It was the fear of her pleas falling on deaf ears.

Hermione glanced up at Snape, waiting for a reprimand. His hollow eyes relentlessly focused on the task at hand. Her total powerlessness hit her as she continued gazing at her beloved savior, forcing her to choke back pitiful tears.

Snape quickly slid one hand behind her neck, the other under her knees. Hermione moaned as her body was sharply lifted off the floor. Her arms clenched around his neck as they spun into his Disapparition.

Hermione gasped in relief when the pressured spinning stopped and familiar smells reached her nose. They were right outside Hogwarts' gates. Hermione could see the castle out of the corner of her eye.

Carrying her across the school grounds, Snape could no longer ignore her unblinking stare. "What?" he finally snapped.

Hermione flinched slightly then whispered, "Macnair was one of the Death Eaters who escaped from Azkaban in August."

"Are you asking me? I already know this."

She could almost taste his irritability; it was so strong.

"You helped him...them."

Silence.

Hermione finally turned her face away.

"Was that a question?" he hissed.

Her exhausted arms shook as they struggled with their hold around his neck. She wanted to look pointedly at him but was quickly losing all coherent thought. Before fainting, she managed to breathe, "Not anymore."

---

Author's Notes:: Like to send my thanks to the many at Potter Place for replying to my questions on Pansy's Patronus. It was first pointed out that it wouldn't be canon for Pansy to conjure a Patronus, since only the Order and DA members were taught this. But Pansy is shagging an Order member, so it makes sense that Remus would teach her. Some very interesting suggestions for her Patronus were a female ferret, a Yorkshire terrier, a pig, a toad (she's secretly in love with Neville apparently), and Ems suggested a penguin, which I seriously considered.

-Many thanks to my talented beta, melusin, for the time she had spent on this chapter.

-Chapter title take from John Milton's Paradise Lost, Book iv. Line 739.