Come and Lift Me From This Place…

A/N: Thanks to the reviews, I LOVE REVIEWS! Also, thanks to my beta, MadBrilliant.

***

The number of lice cases finally grew to an epidemic level. The Ministry sent an owl ordering Madam Pomfrey to cut and shave the heads of each prisoner. Hermione read the scroll and slammed it down on Madam Pomfrey's desk. "I can not believe this! This is abhorrent! How can the Minister condone such behavior?"

Pomfrey sighed and looked hard at her assistant. "Why do you continue to allow yourself to become so riled up over these men?" she asked with amazement.

Hermione stood shocked with her mouth open. Finally, she found her tongue. "I would think that it would be apparent! These men are human beings...yet they are being treated worse than animals, and no one seems to care about their health or wellbeing! Well, somebody has to care! Somebody has...to..." She broke down crying. These hollow men that she cared for, nursed, and treated were as if she were treating Ron. She couldn't save him but she could save these men.

Madam Pomfrey frowned, stood up importantly, and picked up her wand. "Come now, Miss Granger, pull yourself together!" she snapped. "There's work to be done!"

Hermione gathered herself together and gave Pomfrey a scathing look. "How can you? Professor Snape is one of 'those men'! How can you turn your back on him? How can you ignore the fact that so many of them shouldn't be imprisoned in the first place?"

Madam Pomfrey puffed herself up and unleashed a torrent of hate upon the young witch. "You know nothing about Severus Snape! I have cared for him since he was a boy. I healed his wounds and helped him back from death time and time again because I take my oath seriously 'to do no harm.' No matter the doubts that screamed in my head about the purposes behind Snape's missions or his motives, I just went ahead and cared for him as if he were my own. I trusted Dumbledore that Snape had turned from Voldemort and how did Snape repay him? What he did to Dumbledore was unforgivable! After all I did to save his life, he used me! I shall never forgive him. The guilt and pain he suffers...what they ALL suffer is nothing short than what they deserve! They are all alike: selfish, greedy, self-serving, and it's high time they were all taken down a peg or two. I'm done caring and pouring my heart over men who are just evil, miserable bastards at heart! Now, let's get on with it, shall we?"

She turned from Hermione and readied her station without another word or glance. Hermione was speechless. There was no more that could be said. The woman was fixated on her hate and her own perception of reality. It obviously did not register with the Mediwitch that the Wizengamot had accepted what Professor Snape did was not out of hate, but from a vow. However, it was no use trying to get through to her. Hermione was too weary to exert her energies to change Madam Pomfrey's mind.

Hermione numbly readied her station and tried to steady her wand hand as the men came in by twos. "Do no harm indeed!" That was a bag of shite. It took everything to not call Pomfrey out on her defrauding the Ministry. She just had to bide her time until she could get enough proof against the Mediwitch and figure out whom her accomplices were. Hermione and Madam Pomfrey began their work, spelling the prisoners' hair short and, in most cases, shaving. The work was mind numbing and tedious. All of this lice could just be fixed through magic without having to degrade them by shearing them like sheep! But no! These men had to suffer like Muggles...no, worse than Muggles, in Hermione's estimation. The first few had been difficult. The men looked at her with either sad eyes of defeat or cold eyes of hostility. Either way, it was all the same. Hermione Granger was just as much a prisoner to the Ministry as they: both were helpless to stop the continued humiliation.

She worked until her back ached and her eyes hurt. Finally, after she finished with one prisoner, she paused to rub her eyes and clear her head. She sensed the presence of another prisoner sitting in the chair. When she turned to him and focused her eyes...it was Professor Snape!

He regarded her coolly with detachment. There was no hostility or sadness: it was business. Well, after all he endured with Voldemort...this must be a cakewalk! she thought. But that insight did nothing to make her task easier. She untied the string that bound his hair, and she slowly pushed the sides forward. She ran her fingers through his dark hair, framing it on either side of his face, the backside of her hand sliding down his cheeks as she slowly curtained his face. Now he looked like the Professor she knew. His eyes flashed and pierced hers as they both looked at each other into the mirror. She didn't think he minded but perhaps he thought she was mocking him?

Nervously, she took up her wand and began the process. His piercing eyes never left hers. As she stripped him of his hair, tears were streaming down her face. She felt as if she were being tortured. Slowly, she worked her way around, indulging herself in touching his scalp. She didn't know why she wanted to touch and caress him so...she just needed to do it as if she were compelled. However, the tears kept falling, and his eyes still burned into her.

Finally, he spoke in a soft growl, "Save your tears, you silly girl. I do not require your pity."

So, that was it? He thought all she did for him was out of pity? But of course, it's always about him. Never forget, Hermione, underneath everything, he still is neurotic as ever!

"No, Severus. I am merely indulging in my own self-pity," she replied sadly.

His left eye twitched, and he continued glaring at her. Finally, she was done, and his hair was very short but as he had no lice, she did not need to shave it.

"You are finished, sir," she whispered as her eyes focused on the floor.

"Miss Granger," he whispered softly. "I am still me. Hair or lack thereof shall never change that. So, stop your sniveling."

There was softness in his eyes and a lack of venom in his tone that Hermione had never seen or heard before. She wanted more than anything to hug him and find that mysterious connection that kept her always seeking him for safety and security. He moved away and rejoined the line back to the Prisoners' Sector. He stood tall and unbreakable. That is it, she decided, I want and need someone who hasn't been broken. He has faced Hell and he did not break. He still is the same right bastard underneath it all, and I just love him all the more for it...what?

Hermione started on the next prisoner's hair in complete shock and disbelief. Love? Did I just think love?

***

After all the prisoners' hair had been spelled short and/or shaved, Hermione decided to go and meet with Harry for a chat about the prisoners' treatment. She Apparated to the Ministry and demanded to see Auror Potter. She was told to wait in the hall. When Harry came out, he looked concerned. She was a sight. Her face was thin and had a pinched look to it. Her eyes were blackened around the rims. She looked as if she hadn't slept or eaten in days. In reality, it wasn't far off the mark.

"Hermione, are you okay?" He placed a hand on her arm. His eyes looked troubled.

"No, Harry, I'm not fine. Actually, I'm quite upset at the moment. I need help, and I think perhaps you, being who you are, might be able to speak with Minister Shacklebolt or at least get me an appointment to see him."

Harry's eyebrows furrowed. "What's wrong, Hermione?" he demanded as he sat them down on a bench.

"This ridiculous Prisoner Work Release Program, Harry! That's what is bloody wrong. Look, you grew up in the Muggle world. You recall the Holocaust, don't you?"

He blinked in confusion. "Well, yeah, of course, I know about the Holocaust. What are you talking about?"

"Harry, the prisoners are being treated like vermin...lower than animals!" Her voice was growing more hysterical with each word. "They live in diseased filth, worked like dogs, and today I had...I had to...cut off Professor Snape's hair!" She burst in tears and threw her head onto his shoulder. She took out her handkerchief and dried her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Harry, it is all just so horrific. Winter is coming, and no one seems to care that these men are going to be exposed to the elements. Every day another prisoner is sent back to Azkaban. They aren't getting the proper nutrition anymore. The Aurors don't care...well, except for Carson...he's all right. At least he allows me smuggle food to Professor Snape."

Harry snapped to attention at the second mention of his name. "Snape? How is he?"

Hermione looked sorrowfully at her best friend. "Harry, he was doing so well but now that they've cut their food rations and haven't given them clothing to replace their old ones. Well, he's as pale and thin as I've ever seen him. Harry, we've got to do something! We've got to let the Minister know about the prisoners' treatment! It has to stop!"

"Is it as bad as all that?" he whispered.

"Harry, it's like Hogwarts has its own little concentration camp. I see these men every day, defeated and weary. Every day, I'm seeing evidences of torture. Also, they are terrified of speaking up...for being thrown back into Azkaban! It is terrible! This can not be what the Minister envisioned when he developed this program."

"Okay, Hermione, I'll speak with Kingsley." He gave her a reassuring hug. "We're going to get Snape out of there. Don't worry."

She sat up stiffly, looking indignant. "Harry, I care about each and every one of these poor men!" she retorted defensively.

"Yes, I'm sure," Harry said with concern. "But you cried when you told me about Snape's hair, and...smuggling food? Hermione, don't try to hide from me. You care about him."

She slouched and lowered her head. She felt stupid and foolish.

Harry hugged her. "It's okay, Hermione. It's okay. I understand. I really do."

***

Hermione returned to Hogwarts...back to Hell as far as she was concerned. She waited for Harry to bring her some news about a meeting with the Minister. While she waited, the weather was threatening to turn into winter, and every day she felt she was battling against nature. Sick men unable to work were pouring into the infirmary at an alarming rate. All Hermione could do was give them some nutrition, heal whatever sickness or wounds they had, and hand them over to the Aurors for transport back to Azkaban.

It was a disgrace! When Hermione had arrived, there had been over 200 men at the camp. Now the number had been slashed to a little over 100. It galled her to no end. These low-level security criminals...in Hermione's book...were only prisoners through either guilt by association or prejudice from the Wizarding community. They were living an existence that was far crueler than they deserved. Sure, some men were downright foul...but to strip all these men of their wands and force them to work like Muggles in terrible weather conditions with substandard food was nothing more than intolerable cruelty! She watched from her tent as the Aurors started to build the barracks for the men to sleep in for the duration of the winter. Obviously, someone had spoken with Minister Shacklebolt!

She trudged out there and demanded to know what type of accommodations the prisoners would have. She wanted to know about their heating, bedding, and if they would be allowed more additions to their clothing. The Aurors had simply laughed in her face. Hermione was furious! She then stood up to all of them and demanded as a medical professional to have her questions answered.

The senior most Auror, who was also the most vicious towards the prisoners, Auror Banes, stepped up to her to assert his authority. He had been trained by Old Mad-Eye Moody and seemed to have taken up Moody's prejudice that "once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater." He stood in his warm clothes and his smug face and told Hermione that he knew all about her and that just because she was best friends with Harry Potter and for all accounts Ron Weasley's widow, he wasn't going to allow her to question his authority.

"Besides," he sneered. "I know all about your radical methods of trying to help pathetic creatures who aren't worth two shites!"

She burned with anger and knew she would get nowhere with this evil pig. He didn't care at all about the lives of these poor men. She would have to undermine and determine how to wield her position in the infirmary to the prisoners' advantage.

Aurors Carson and Dawlish were a good pair to get information from. She learnt there would be no Warming Spells allowed on the outside or inside the barracks. There was a potbelly stove in the middle of each barrack, and the men would sleep on wooden shelves, one built on top of the other. Once the men moved in, it quickly became disgusting and rancid. Vermin abounded, as did dysentery, with all manner of bedbugs, rashes, and the like. The similarities between Hogwarts and Auschwitz were growing exponentially by the day.

***

One day, Harry showed up and took a look for himself over what Hermione had been raving. He stood from a distance and watched the prisoners work in the cold with sparse winter clothing. He could smell the barracks from where he stood. It was an abomination. He was furious! He walked into the infirmary and saw Hermione, care-worn, ragged, trying to nurse a dozen or so men at the same time. He saw how exhausted she was and went to her, opening his arms to comfort her.

"Harry!" she cried. "I'm so glad you came. Have you seen the camp?"

"Yes," he answered grimly. "The concept of having the barracks built for the prisoners to sleep in was the Minister's solution for keeping the men warm at night. I see they are lacking in appropriate attire for this climate, and you certainly have your hands full."

She snorted. "Don't I know it! And this all could have been avoided, you realize," she snapped as she walked him though the infirmary. "These are diseases that are caused by all sorts of uncleanliness: foul water, improper toilet facilities, lack of a proper diet, and also exposure to the elements! And as the weather grows colder, it shall only get worse."

She looked at him full in the face. "Harry, we've lost over half of the prisoners to Azkaban. My only solace is that no one has died here. But what of there? I have no information or hope to receive any on how the men who leave my care are being treated once returned to Azkaban."

"How is Snape?" Harry asked. His green eyes were full of worry and concern.

Hermione looked weary. "He is holding his own. Strong...for as frail as he looks. I'm trying to get him more food as the weather turns. I try hard to get him in here every other day so I can check on him. Thank goodness the Auror to whom he is dispatched is a kind man...fresh out of Auror Training! But, Harry, there is so much corruption here; it is appalling! These men should not be wanting for anything, but the supplies are being pilfered, food goods, clothing, even potions that I need here in the infirmary are disappearing!"

She pulled him to a corner of the room and whispered, "I've taken to hiding some things from Madam Pomfrey. I know she is in on it. I looked over her invoices...it's graft, pure and simple! She's changed, Harry. Even about Severus. She worked so hard to save his life, and now she couldn't care less if he lived or died! Harry, you've got to get the Minister to release these men or at least come to a better arrangement...something!"

"Well, I have my suspicions," confided Harry. "The Head of the Aurory, Gawain Robards, was not happy that I went over his head to Kingsley. I have a feeling if I weren't Harry Potter, I would have been kicked out of Auror Training. He seemed, oh, I dunno...guilty, perhaps? I'll go back and try, Hermione, you know I will. The thought that corruption of this sort could go up so high disgusts me. After all we had to endure with Voldemort!" He shook his head and gathered himself together. "Now, can you bring Snape here? I want to see him with my own eyes."

Snape came into the infirmary, and Harry was so angry, Hermione thought he was going to kill Shacklebolt, Robards, or both.

His green eyes snapped furiously with anger, and his face was white with barely concealed rage, his fists in balls at his side. "I don't know what to say, sir. I feel I have let you down. This is not how things should be here. I don't know how it all could have become so corrupted."

Snape gave a snort. "Potter, your Gryffindor nature has always blindsided you. I, for one, am not surprised because I realize that whenever people have an opportunity to exploit the weak for one's own gain, it will inevitably be done," he said smoothly.

"I'll get you out of here, Snape. I promise." Harry said as he stared intently into the professor's eyes.

"I will completely understand if you are unable to keep that promise, Potter," he whispered calmly.

Harry turned to Hermione and grasped her hand. "Take care of him, Hermione," he said to her.

"I shall," she answered with strength in her voice.

Harry left to return to the Ministry. As he walked past them, Hermione and Snape caught another moment to hold each other with their eyes. The feelings that passed between them, despite the distance were unmistakable. They both accepted the depth of caring that had grown between them. Hope was thriving in both of them, and the woman before Snape who was able to demonstrate so much grace towards him had yet again overcome him with joy.