Chapter One: The Awakening

Author's Notes:

Huge hugs and sticky kisses to my beta, Soul Bound, for once again sorting out the mess I've made of this story's grammar and sentence structure.

"She's yet to rouse, My Lord," said a smooth, even voice from somewhere outside the room.

In retort, a high, calculating voice spoke next. "It has been far too long, Severus. The girl possesses knowledge that may prove useful, but it is not essential to our cause. I will allow you one more week, Severus. If she is not revived by then, dispose of her."

The first voice spoke once more. "Yes, My Lord."

Hermione winced at the conversation taking place just outside of where she was lying. She remembered nothing of how she had come to be where she was. 'As a matter of fact, where am I?'

She shut her eyes tightly as the door to her right creaked open. She could see a bright light streaming into the room through her thinly layered eyelids. She lay still, feigning sleep. The door shut quietly with a click, followed by the swishing sound of a deadbolt being driven into place. Hurried footsteps became louder as they made their way towards her bed.

"Miss Granger, wake up. Do not make a sound."

She knew that voice. It was the voice of her former Potions professor, the man who had abandoned the Order, the man who had killed Dumbledore. The voice speaking to her was none other than Severus Snape.

Fearing what he would do to her should he find her awake, she lay still, pretending she had not heard a word.

"Miss Granger, I know you are awake. I gave you a reviving potion this morning. The timing is precise. Open your eyes."

Again, she tried fruitlessly to pretend she had not heard him.

"Miss Granger!" he whispered urgently. "I am not here to harm you. However, if you do not open your eyes and listen to me this instant, the Dark Lord will kill you!"

Something about the worried tone in his voice caused her to believe him, and she opened her eyes.

"What," she began, but she was halted before she could say anything further. His hand flung forcefully to her face, covering her mouth completely. She could taste the dirt and sweat that had accumulated on his palm as he placed a mild, yet constant pressure on her lips.

"Ssshhh!" he warned. "Do not speak. If the Dark Lord discovers you are awake, you will not be safe. You are to serve a purpose, Miss Granger. When he is finished with you, he will discard you."

Her eyes shone meaningfully with the unspeakable realization that came with her former professor's words. As if sensing her alarm, he continued.

"Yes, Miss Granger. By that, I mean he will undoubtedly kill you. You are no more valuable to the Dark Lord alive than you are dead."

Her eyes grew wide with fear. Panic coursed through her, and she began to perspire above her brow. Snape's hand felt clammy and warm about her lips. Despite the uncomfortable feeling of the appendage on her face, she felt relieved he had decided to keep it there. She had an uncanny desire to scream.

He continued, "The Dark Lord has granted me permission to remove you from his lair. You will come with me to another location. Once there, I will inform you further."

He reached dolefully into his robes with his free hand and pulled out a small, clear vial filled with orange liquid. "Drink this," he instructed. She shook her head violently in protest.

He forced his hand roughly down onto her face, pressing her head hard onto the pillow-less mattress that was her foundation. A muffled squeal escaped through her nostrils as she recoiled from the pain building at the base of her skull caused by the exposed springs in the mattress.

"Foolish girl!" he uttered through clenched teeth. "I have already told you once that it is not my intent to harm you! Drink this potion, or you will die at the hands of the Dark Lord!"

He slowly removed his palm from her lips and moved it to the vial still being held in his left hand. He offered it to her, and hesitantly, she brought the solution to her lips and drank. A cool sensation ran down her throat as she consumed the mysterious liquid. Instantly, she fell into a slumber once more.

* * *

She awoke hours later in a daze. The room surrounding her was not the same one in which she had first roused. The walls were draped in a deep, hunter green. The floor was a rich mahogany color─probably hard wood. As she attempted to process her surroundings, she realized that she was no longer in a bed at all. She looked down to find herself on a gray, musty smelling couch. There were tears in one of the arms and rips in the fabric behind the cushions.

She attempted to stand and faltered. She fell forcefully onto her backside, her body falling dully onto the seat cushions behind her. She was far too weak to walk. She managed to sit upright in her seat while her eyes adjusted to the dimly lit room. A smooth, deep voice sounded from somewhere to her left. She whipped her head towards the sound and, as she did, realized that she had a terrible headache along with a lovely stiff neck.

She opened her eyes wide and frowned at the figure standing before her. The man, in his solid black robes that hung loosely around his Victorian-style black collar, was obviously Professor Snape. He glared down at her as he approached the area where she was sitting.

"Do not speak, Miss Granger," he stated smoothly. "I shall explain everything," he paused, "that you need to know."

He took a seat next to her on the sofa, folding his hands loosely in his lap and catching her gaze.

"Miss Granger," he began, "for the past thirteen months─"

"Thirteen months!" she exclaimed in utter horror.

"Miss Granger! I have instructed you not to speak. You would do well to heed my instructions and listen to the information that I am about to bestow upon you. Now, as I was saying..." He glared down at her through narrowed eyes over his unusually large nose. "You have been kept at the Dark Lord's lair under the pretense that you are, essentially, a prisoner of war. The Dark Lord believes you to have information pertaining to the Order of the Phoenix that, without you, would go undiscovered. As you have been unconscious for the duration of your time in captivity, the Dark Lord has been unable to use Legilimency in order to extract said information from your mind. Naturally, I know there to be nothing in that mind of yours."

The cheek in his comment did not go unnoticed by Hermione.

He took a deep breath before concluding his monologue. "Miss Granger, do you remember anything at all from your night on the battlefield?"

Hermione considered his question for a moment. "Yes," she began. "I remember fighting the Death Eaters and running into the forest with Ron.─ Then I remember...­─ I...─­ I..." She attempted to choke back her tears as the remembrance of her painful torture by means of the Cruciatus Curse flowed back into her mind. A heavy ball had formed in the center of her throat, making it hard for her to swallow. "I was hit with the C-Cruciatus C-Curse. It was Bellatrix L-Lestrange."

The realization that she had almost been killed suddenly dawned on her. Tears fell rapidly from her cheeks now, forming clear, white streaks in her dirt-encrusted skin. "She made to kill me. She started to say Ava─the Killing Curse. And then, someone rescued me. At least, I thought they had."

Snape paused for a moment, apparently collecting his thoughts. "Yes, you are correct, Miss Granger. When I saw what Bellatrix meant to do, I grabbed you and Disapparated us out of the forest. Unfortunately, Bellatrix informed the Dark Lord of what had happened. He found us before I could Apparate you to a safe location. I convinced the Dark Lord that you retained valuable information regarding the Order and informed him that I felt it would be," he paused, "wise to keep you."

Hermione lowered her eyes and feigned interest in a spot on the floor. "Was I hurt?" she whispered, her gaze unfaltering.

"No, Miss Granger, you were not touched while in the Dark Lord's custody," Snape stated with an air of certainty. "I, personally, took the responsibility of ensuring your health and safety while you were incapacitated."

She spoke again, this time in a slightly deeper voice. "Then how was I unconscious for over a year?" Upon ending this question, she raised her eyes to meet those of the man sitting before her.

He answered her quickly, his voice somewhat more appeasing now. "As I was unable to successfully extract you from your secure location, I have been feeding you a mildly diluted form of the Draught of Living Death. You received one vial per month in order to keep you in a severely subdued state. The Dark Lord was under the impression that you were in what Muggles would call a 'comatose condition.' You have been fed a nourishing potion twice per day for the last thirteen months, allowing you to maintain your health to the farthest extent possible. I convinced the Dark Lord that, in time, I would be able to revive you from your cataleptic state, allowing him to discover your memories through Legilimency. Thankfully, he agreed."

As she pondered his words, a fresh batch of questions formed in her mind. "Why did you rouse me? Why now? Why not sooner?" she asked in three short breaths.

"You were not roused earlier, Miss Granger, because the Dark Lord would simply have tossed you aside once your knowledge, or lack thereof, was extracted. Rescue efforts would have been futile. The Dark Lord's lair is unplottable, and its location is held by a Secret Keeper, the Dark Lord himself. Recently, the Dark Lord has grown tired of waiting. He has given me one week to rouse you from your faux sleep and has agreed to let me bring you to my home in hopes that I will be able to completely devote myself to your speedy recovery. That is why you are here."

She glanced around the room that surrounded her, subsequently returning her gaze to Snape. "This─this is your house?"

He sneered coldly at her before answering her question in a loud, irritated voice. "Yes, Miss Granger, this is my home. I realize that it may not be quite as lovely as the Muggle accommodations to which you are accustomed, but it serves its purpose while I am here."

Hermione suddenly felt embarrassed by her previous statement. "I didn't mean─"

"That is not important," he interrupted sharply. "We should be discussing the progress of the Order over the past year and deciding on a future course of action."

"Yes," she replied softly.

He stared intently into her eyes, his expression unfaltering. "Would you like some tea, Miss Granger?"

A miniscule smirk appeared at the right side of her mouth at the mention of tea. She was incredibly thirsty. "Yes, please, Professor."

Snape rose from the ancient sofa, walking in long, smooth strides to the opposite side of the room. He entered what she imagined to be the kitchen through a two-way, swinging oak door and disappeared from her sight. He reappeared moments later balancing a tray on his left palm, which contained a plain, copper teakettle and two white china teacups. As he approached the sofa, he raised his wand with his right hand and muttered "Inanimatus Conjurus" in the quietest voice possible. A small, oak coffee table magically appeared before the sofa. Snape settled the tray on the stand and proceeded to pour the steaming beverage into the two waiting cups. After placing the kettle down onto the tray, he reclaimed his seat on the couch next to his female guest.

As they met each other's gazes once more, Snape spoke again. "I suppose, Miss Granger, I should allow you to ask some questions of me."

She sat, pondering her words for a moment before responding. "Professor, what about Harry, and Ronald, and, well, everyone else?"

Snape's glare did not weaken. "There were certain... casualties of war, Miss Granger. In spite of this, those comrades that you no doubt care for most were unharmed. Potter and Weasley remain intact. They are being concealed at the new location of the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. Several additional battles have ensued since your capture. During these battles, we lost many valuable Order members. Among them, Alastor Moody, Elphias Doge, Sturgis Podmore and Bill Weasley."

At the mention of Bill's name, tears sprung back into her eyes. No, he's not─he can't be!" she squeaked, fervor leaving her voice completely.

"Yes, Miss Granger, I am afraid so. He was a talented wizard. His death was a terrible loss for the Order."

Her mind moved quickly to Molly Weasley, sympathy for the woman's loss engulfing her heart. She pictured the mourning woman sulking sorrowfully around the Order's headquarters, desperation encasing her being at the void left in her heart from the loss of her eldest son's life.

She leveled her eyes with Snape's and questioned him with a tone of assertiveness and determination. "What do we do now?"

"Now," he replied, "I will make contact with the Order of the Phoenix. The Head of the Order will need to know that you have been extracted safely."

"Dumbledore?" she questioned, mostly to the empty space in front of her. She swung her head around to face Snape once more. "Dumbledore? He's alive, then? But, how?"

Snape gave her a puzzled look. Her heart sank as she realized she must have misunderstood.

"No, Miss Granger.­ Professor Dumbledore is, I am sorry to say, no longer among the living." An unmistakably regretful Snape lowered his gaze to his lap. His brow furrowed, and his eyes fell as a hollow sigh escaped his lips.

After a period of uninterrupted silence, Hermione chose to continue the conversation. "Professor," she said, then paused for a moment, contemplating her next words. "You didn't want to kill Professor Dumbledore, did you? I mean, the Order─they would not still be in contact with you if it was your fault, right?" The sentence ended more as a statement than a question, sounding wholly rhetorical.

Snape sat in silence for several more seconds before answering her. "Miss Granger, there are some actions that must be taken during times of great turmoil, times of war, that we can neither be proud of, nor remorseful for. Some day you will be informed of everything that took place during the time of what we are now calling the Second War. Now is not the time for you to be enlightened with that information."

Understanding him perfectly, she continued her questioning. "Who is the new Head of the Order, sir?"

"Minerva McGonagall has taken over organizational duties for the Order of the Phoenix." He paused, taking a sip from his teacup before placing it softly back onto its saucer and continuing. "She is aware that you are alive and well, but that is all. My communication with the Order is quite sparse. As of yet, I have only attended three Order meetings since the first battle. My loyalties must continue to go undiscovered by the other side. It is imperative to our cause."

She took in all of the information carefully. Snape was still in the Order. He regretted Dumbledore's death. The Order of the Phoenix did not know where she was. She had been unconscious for the past thirteen months. She could still die in a week's time─

­

It was all too much for her. She felt her breaths growing shallow and her fingers beginning to shake. Her big toe, balancing itself on the bare wooden floor beneath her, bounced up and down whilst she tried to calm her steadily worsening nerves.

Snape looked up at her, mystified. He flung his left arm over her shoulders as she began to hyperventilate. "Breathe, Miss Granger!" he urged her as he forced her shoulders downward, causing her to place her head between her knees as she attempted to restrain her tattered breathing. "Count backwards from one hundred, Miss Granger," he instructed calmly.

'Ninety-nine, ninety-eight,­ ninety-seven─' As she approached eighty-three, her panting stopped, and color returned to her cheeks. She sat upright once more and brushed the sweaty, matted hair away from her forehead.

She brought her gaze upwards to meet that of Snape's. She thought she noticed a hint of compassion in the man's eyes. However, if it was even there to begin with, it quickly dissipated. The indifferent, sneering glare that was Snape's signature look was staring back at her in full force.

"I shall assume," he droned, "Miss Granger, that that was the last of your nervous breakdowns for the evening? Or shall I fetch you a paper bag and a calming potion?"

"I'm fine, sir," she added tersely.

His right brow rose in a high arc as he stared at her over his pointed nose. "Very well," he said flatly.

The two continued to converse for over an hour. Snape informed Hermione that three additional battles had taken place following the one that she had attended. The most recent battle, which had taken place at the former sight of the Quidditch World Cup, was the one that had claimed the eldest Weasley's life. According to Snape, Harry had "performed adequately" in all four of the Second War's battles. Knowing Snape's dislike of Harry, Hermione assumed this to mean that Harry had fought brilliantly. It also appeared that the Death Eaters had greatly decreased in number. Unfortunately, the most essential and capable Death Eaters were still alive and quite active with the Dark Lord's biddings. Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange had taken over management duties for the remaining Death Eater troops. Between them they were able to devise new and powerful curses to use to their advantage. One of which, the Indigo Curse, caused someone to lose all feeling in their upper and lower extremities. The paralyzed sensation was enough to immobilize an enemy for an extended period of time. Unfortunately, the Order was still yet to discover a counter-curse.

As their conversation began to dwindle, Snape stood slowly and lifted his wand with his right arm. He pointed it to the space in front of them and muttered "Evanesco." Instantly, the coffee table, along with the tray, teakettle, and cups, disappeared.

"Miss Granger, you need to rest. I have prepared a room for you upstairs. You will climb the stairway and turn to the third door on the right. If you require use of the facilities, the washroom is located across from your quarters. After you have retired for the evening, I will lock your door as a precaution."

She gave a weak nod signifying that she understood and rose up off of the sofa, heading in the direction of the stairwell. As she placed her left shoe on the initial stair, she turned around and faced her professor once more. "Thank you, Professor," she stated in a hushed, yet audible voice. Snape, without speaking, gave an acknowledging nod in response.

Hermione climbed the staircase to the second floor, taking in her surroundings as she ascended. The mahogany railing on the right side of the stairs was unattached, simply floating in hollow air inches away from the wall. She placed a hand on it and noticed that it was as sturdy as she would have expected it to be if it were held in place with one-inch bolts. The engraving on the railing began above the first step and appeared to run the entire length of the woodwork. The etching was that of a long, slender serpent. The body was straight in some areas, gradually building into waves and, at points, circular coils. As she leaned closer to the railing, she noticed that the impression appeared to be moving in an almost unnoticeable slither.

In any other household, the overwhelming amount of Slytherin-styled paraphernalia would have been greatly unsettling. In Snape's house, she reflected, the atmosphere mirrored his personality perfectly.

She reached the top of the stairwell and turned down the hallway to her right. She stopped short of the door leading to "her quarters," as Snape had referred to them, and opted to visit the bathroom first. She opened the tall, oak door that separated the washroom from the hallway and entered, flipping on the light switch as she walked. Her mouth dropped promptly in surprise. The room was incredible.

In contrast to the rest of the home, the bathroom was, in no way whatsoever, Syltherin. The room itself was massive in size. She imagined it to be at least twice as big as her bedroom at her parents' Muggle home. The walls were a bright, golden yellow, and the floors were tiled with what appeared to be marble─white and bronze in color. There was a double sink against the left wall with swan-shaped faucets dangling over each basin. The sink handles were twisted in a helix shape and matched the faucets' shiny, golden appearance. There was a bathtub in the center of the room that sunk into the tile floor. The tub, she mused, was definitely large enough for two people. She stood in the doorway a moment, admiring the beautifully un-Snape-ish facilities.

Eventually, she stepped into the room and shut the door behind her. After all she had just been through, she felt that a long, hot bath was certainly in order. She approached the bathtub first and turned on the hot water. After placing the stopper in the drain and making sure that the water was of an adequate temperature, she turned to her left and made for the sink. She looked at her reflection in the mirror for a short moment before immediately regretting the decision. Her hair was, in a word, unruly... not the usual array of frizzy, mustered curls that she was used to, but generally and intensely disheveled. After over a year of not being brushed, her hair had grown a considerable amount in length. Without a comb to tame it, her hair had become riddled with knots that had entwined themselves in her thick layers of twisted strands. Her face was caked with dirt and grime, causing her skin to appear brown and wrinkled. She raised a hand to her cheek in an attempt to wipe away the dirt beneath her eyes, and she noticed that her fingernails had grown exponentially.

"That's easy enough to fix," she reflected as she took up her wand from beneath her robes.

"Manico," she said clearly while pointing her wand at her left hand. At once her nails reduced themselves to a short, manicured condition. She repeated the incantation once more, holding her wand in her left hand, performing the spell on her right. Not hesitating to look away from the mirror, she opened the cabinet beneath the master sink in hopes of finding some body wash and shampoo. She was sorely disappointed.

Beneath the master sink stood a large number of bottles, though not one of them contained a label. Knowing Snape's unusual obsession for strange and dangerous potions, she decided to continue her search elsewhere. Her exploration of the second set of cabinets was much more rewarding. There was a large basket of assorted guest soaps and shampoos. It appeared that none of the soaps or shampoos had ever been opened. Clearly, Snape did not entertain company very often.

Sinking into a tranquil bath, she let her mind wander peacefully. After several moments of uninterrupted relaxation, she slipped into a shallow, restful sleep.

She and Ginny were sitting on an old, worn-out, wooden bench slid partially under a shabby picnic table. The weather around the Burrow was unusually warm for the time of year. Although the leaves had long since turned a mixed shade of red, yellow, and brown, the bright sun felt sweltering on her exposed shoulders. All in all it was a perfect day for a Quidditch game, she mused. She lifted her chin to the sky, using her left hand as a visor to shield her eyes from the blinding afternoon sunlight. Ron was floating around his goal hoops while keeping a keen eye on Fred and George, who viciously insisted on using real Bludgers in place of the oft-used rubber ones. Harry was hovering high above the others, sneaking glances at the players below him while cautiously looking for the sought after Snitch.

As she reached for the pitcher of lemonade that sat in the center of the table, she saw Harry break into a rapid dive for the Snitch. The airborne, golden golf ball made straight for her face and rested itself on the tip of her nose. She felt her eyes dry out as the breeze from the rapidly flapping, miniature wings hit her face. Harry was still descending. He was getting closer, but not slowing down. He was coming at her too fast.─­They were going to collide! She was frozen in her seat, unable to move. He reached his hand out to grab the Snitch─

"Miss Granger!"

She was yanked from her dream by the sound of Snape's voice slicing anxiously through her clouded mind. She looked up at his unusually pale face while she attempted to slip back into reality. She was still lazily attempting to open her eyes when─

"Aaaah!" she screamed as she realized the only thing separating Snape's eyes from her exposed body were the bubbles floating atop the bath water.

Snape promptly averted his eyes from her, focusing on a water spot on the floor next to the tub. "Miss Granger, now is no time to be bashful," he stated, still not removing his eyes from the water spot. "You must get into bed immediately. I will give you a potion to help you sl─"

"NO!" she interrupted, causing him to take a fleeting glance at her face before returning his gaze to the floor. "I will not be put to sleep again! I have been asleep for over a year now. There is no reason fo─"

"Foolish girl!" he yelled over her. "Unless you wish for the Death Eaters to torture you into divulging what you know, you will follow my instructions instead of continuing to be an insufferable little know-it-all!"

Her eyes grew wide as she processed his words. She realized exactly what he was saying, and she lifted her hand to his robes, pulling his face to within inches of hers. Startled, Snape stood still, nose-to-nose with his former pupil, staring at her questioningly.

"What the bloody hell are you talking about?" she asked, boldness facilitating her voice.

He glared at her, clearly taken aback by her menacing tone, before answering, "Lucius Malfoy is on his way here."