Disclaimer: just my ideas from which I do not profit.

Note: So finally I got around to this chapter. I'll only say now that it was hard and there is an epilogue. I'll continue this discussion after the chapter finishes. ;-)

Chapter 7: For the Love of My Master

Despite the seriousness of the situation and the magnitude of the day ahead of her, Hermione had slept well that night. It was perhaps the best sleep she had enjoyed in a long time. She had woken up early, combed her hair and dressed herself accordingly. Hermione had smoothed out her uniform, her grey skirt held not one wrinkle, her white shirt was crisp and her cloak had not one stray thread. It was difficult to describe the feelings that had taken hold of her this morning, they gave her an overwhelming sense of calm, accentuated by a tension that had concentrated itself in the pit of her stomach. She sat on the edge of her bed, her posture upright, her hands placed gently in her lap, waiting.

Waiting was a torture, the likes of which she had not experienced. While loneliness and isolation were feelings Hermione was used to, this was a completely different beast all together. There was a strength to it, the satisfaction of knowing that she was going to do something about this hand she had been dealt. Success would mean a new chance at resistance, a renewed struggle for what was right in the world. Failure would only mean death, by now death had no hold on her. Her entire life, her education her training had lead her to this point. She would not back down, she would not surrender, she would see it through to the end - no matter the consequences.

'For Harry, for Ron...for me.' This was her mantra as she waited in her room for her Master to appear.

He swooped in unannounced of course, preoccupied with the same kinds of feelings she was experiencing. Hermione had lived in the house long enough, been in close enough proximity to him to read his moods. She'd never seen him scared before, the nervousness rolling off him as he observed her briefly. There was no need for him to make a motion that she follow him, it was implied as he stiffly turned around and walked out the door, leaving it wide open. Hermione followed close behind him, the silly notion that being closer to him might shield her from the darkness they were about to encounter.

The house was unnaturally quiet, even for this time of the morning. The staff had clearly been frightened by the events of the night before. Hermione exhaled lightly at this thought, the thought of the fear they must be experiencing having seen the Dark Lord for the first time and experiencing first hand how he treated his servants. If that didn't turn them against the Dark Lord, then nothing would.

'Will they rise up when the time comes?' Hermione wondered to herself as she followed her Master down the stairs of the manor house and toward the front door.

There would be apparition today it seemed, they were going to take the long way. Severus Snape motioned her to get into the carriage, picking up his robes and following her in. There was a sense of dejavu that swept over Hermione, having been in this very carriage with him several times before. Several months ago, when she first came to his household, she had been so weak, so sick. It was hard for Hermione to even remember how she had been, hairless, skin and bones with various diseases. The dark man before her and brought her back from the edge of death, dragged her back into this world kicking and screaming. He'd given her something to fight for.

She looked at Severus Snape, seated across from her. Whatever nervousness she had detected in her own chambers a few moments earlier had melted away, his demeanor calm, his face a mask of indifference. He was not observing her as he normally did when they sat in the claustrophobic carriage. He was looking out the window, his eyes distant, his mind somewhere else.

'Is he thinking of 'Her'?' Hermione wondered.

Considering how close to death he had been last night, Hermione was surprised to see him show no signs of it now. He was sitting upright, his hands in his lap, his head turned toward the window of carriage. If the brutality of last evening's festivities had been any indication of how today would go, it was clear to Hermione that this was Severus Snape's death march. He was a dead man walking, waiting for the wrath of the Dark Lord to lead him to his ultimate fate.

'Will he stand up and fight as I plan to do?' This thought and the revelations that followed it made Hermione shiver. Last night had been an unequivocally bizarre moment for both of them. Pain, suffering, hatred and the need to feel alive bringing them together. While they may have reasons to fight Lord Voldemort, they were not the same motivations. She could not forget he had double crossed the Order, watched as her friends swung from the gallows, ensured the torture and destruction of numerous lives through the Resocialization Camps.

'You reap what you sow.' She reminded herself, and despite the kindness Severus Snape had shown her over the last several months, he had been responsible for more pain and suffering than she could ever know. The woman in the picture notwithstanding, he was a brutal man only able to serve his own interests.

'He's a Death Eater, he's the enemy, he does not deserve my empathy.'

The trip to the camp seemed shorter than usual. The Dark Lord was already there, his entourage standing menacingly around him. She could see Wormgood there as well, some of his men from the prison flanking him as he stood near the Dark Lord. It was clear to Hermione that the Dark Lord had taken the fat blonde man's side. Whether her Master had intended for the escapes or not, the records did not stand in his favor. He had not done his job and would now pay the price. Meaning she would also pay the price by association. She knew how the Dark Lord worked.

The carriage came to an abrupt stop, the knot in Hermione's stomach lurching forward as the carriage door was opened. She would have to be calm, she would need to dig deep and have strength.

"My Lord." Severus said, immediately dropping to one knee before the creature. Hermione followed suit.

The Dark Lord smiled eerly as he put his hand on her Master's shoulder, "Severuss my child come, we have much to do today"

She glared at Wormgood, pleased to see the bruising on his nose from her attack last night was still visible. The man quickly shifted his eyes and pressed on behind the Dark Lord. 'Coword.'

As they began their tour of the camp Hermione was glad to blend into the background. She was anonymous, able to watch what was going on in a detached manner. There was a tension in the group as Severus and his loyal men showed Voldemort through the holding cells. Hermione could see Wormgood's men smiling to each other as if they knew something the rest of them did not. As if they were celebrating before the party had actually started. Hermione clutched her wand close to her body, the feeling that she and Snape were about to be jumped foremost in her mind.

As they walked through the different sections of the prison, Hermione repeated to herself what she needed to do there and in which order. It was a like a kind of pop quiz right before the test. She knew that Neville Longbottom was still alive and in the isolation chambers. Cell 2523 was his, and from what she had read he was angry and dangerous. He would be one of the first she let go. She would need him to get the wands, the wards would require the power of two.

They walked through the children's section of the prison, Hermione knew they would be last. Considering the amount of guards in the prison, the increased amount of Death Eaters and the Dark Lord, she would need to release the fighters first and leave the little ones for last. She couldn't lead them to slaughter.

Her thoughts were disturbed by their abrupt turn toward the main office of camp. They had cut their tour short in favor of looking over the books. So they turned, walked up the filthy stairs and made their way to the small main office.

Severus put his hand on her shoulder, stopping her in her tracks. "Stay here." He whispered. She tried to capture his eyes with hers for a moment, but caught a passing glance of him moving forward, toward the center of the tiny room.

She was in the office, crammed in there with some of Severus' men, some of Wormgood's, the Dark Lord, his supporters - there were so many people stuffed into such a small place that it was almost impossible to breath. Her Master had stopped her close to the door, the only exit from the room. There were no windows, no second doors, just the one right behind her.

The scene was surreal, the men were gravitating toward the center of the room, as if Master Snape and the Dark Lord were the center of the universe, threatening a gravitational collision of massive proportions. The men were so eager to get closer, they had blocked her view, darkening the room, leaving only a light in the middle to illuminate anything. Hermione shuffled slightly, able to get a line of sight to her Master's face as the conversation was taking place. She strained to hear what they were discussion in harsh tones. The men's bodies absorbing the sound as they continued to push toward the center. The tension in the room made her body shake, pushed adrenaline through her veins and made her acutely aware of what was about to happen.

'I have to do it in the right moment.' She tried to tell herself in a calming way. They were so close now to how it was going to end.

Then her Master's eyes turned to hers, as if he had been tracking her movement the entire time. His voice was deep, clam, it belied the seriousness of what was about to happen. "Erica, RUN."

That was all she needed to grab the door knob behind her, back out of the room and push it tight, wards, curses and all the sealing chams she knew coming out of her mouth at lightning speed. It did not deaden the screams, yells, death cries and sounds of curses that came from the room.

Hermione took a step back from the door and caught her breath. 'Neville.' His name was the only thought she was capable of. Not able to process all that had just happened, not having the time to. She needed to act, and act fast. Having been in charge of the books at the prison for the last few weeks the guards were used to seeing her.

'Act cool.' She told herself as she put her arms down to her side, inhaled deeply, and began to walk as quickly as she could, without drawing attention, to the isolation chambers.

She knew the way well. She had memorized it from the maps of the prison, every twist and turn expected. Nodding to the guards, she made her way past a few knowing that her actions would eventually draw their attention. There was only one guard in the hall where Neville was being held. Hermione made quick work of him. With a flick of her wrist his wand came flying to her, with a second flick of her wrist his neck twisted around, broken. He fell to the ground in a heap before she could even walk past him.

'2523' she found it. Rolling on the tips of her toes, hermione looked in the glass window. Neville was there alright, bald, worn, tattered, close to death and mad as hell. She could see it in the way he looked at her as he heard her approach the glass. His eyes changed when he realized she was not a guard, but a girl.

A wave of her wand opened the door, she put her hand out in front of her, signaling she did not mean to hurt him. Neville looked at her, his head cocked to the side as if he were trying to remember who she was and assessing her threat level. It was clear he'd been tortured beyond anything she could possibly imagine. Pain and sorrow radiated off him as she neared her old friend.

"It's me Neville. It's Hermione." She could see it register on his face. "We have to get everybody out of here, we need to get everybody north to Scotland. Do you understand?" She held out the wand she had won from the guard to her friend.

A ghost of his former self, Neville simply nodded, grabbed the wand and ran through the door. Despite his diminished appearance, he was a juggernaut killing all guards in his path, clearing out the floor of those who would do them harm.

"Neville!" Hermione yelled, "The wands, we need to secure the wands, then we can release everybody."

A grunt came from his mouth, which seemed to be an affirmative as she showed him the way to the wands. They scaled the stairs two to three at a time running up to the storage room. It was warded to the nines, but Hermione had educated herself on what the wards were and how to overcome them.

"Keep your wand concentrated on this portion of the door." She instructed her companion. Holding his eyes while he assessed whether he could trust her or not. After a few moments he nodded, pointing his wand at the door and using a stasis spell to keep it in place.

She needed him to keep the spell in place, if she screwed up the order of the wards the explosions would set off other ones, killing them before their escape truly began. She could hear commotion in the background, she knew that the carnage in the office she had escaped from, had bled into the prison. Alerting the guards and ruining their element of surprise. Hermione took a deep breath and concentrated on the wards she knew were in place. Waving her hands, she moved the wand from side to side, keeping her mind focused on the order.

Hermione whispered the words needed to open the door, feeling the wards lift one by one. It was hard to suppress her excitement as the final security measure fell, the door opening a crack. She and Neville looked at one another in astonishment, their eyes wide. Motioning her to step away, Neville used a toe to open the door further, ready to strike should something further attack them.

Nothing.

"Go." Hermione said to him. "Go to levels two and three, release them all. Save the basement for last, those are the kids."

He smiled for the first time in her direction. "Don't leave anybody alive." She said to his back as he ran down the hallway, determined to wreak as much havoc on the prison as humanly possible.

It was working, she was doing it. The happiness Hermione felt overshadowed any fear or hesitation. Now, more than ever, she would have to stick to the plan. She would need to go behind Neville, make sure nobody was left behind. Or at least, confirm they would not be able to make it to freedom.

The chaotic screams, the sounds of hexes flying were like music to her ears. She dropped her cloak, which bore the mark of her Master Severus Snape. She held her wand drawn by her side and walked, casually, through the once terrifying halls of Resocialization Camp 5. Doors were open, the lights were flickering and the walls were streaked with blood. Hermione took in the smells of blood, fear and triumph. She ran her left hand through her short, slowly curling hair, and shed Erica Simmons from her person.

A sound behind her made her turn, wand raised. A guard was dragging himself along the floor, trying to take cover. She delivered a hex to his face, giving him a quick and painless death. She would not back down, she would show no remorse, she would not leave this camp until everybody who could escape did.

She followed the sounds of fighting, the fog of war as it moved throughout the camp. The guards might have been mean and harsh, but they were completely outnumbered by the prisoners. If Neville had succeeded in releasing them, which seemed to be the case, they almost stood no chance against them. Some of her comrades had fallen, Hermione knelt beside their bodies, checking for a pulse. When she found none, she closed their eyes and carried on. When she found something, she got them back on their feet, told them to run. Knowing that the violence would spread from the middle, from the point where it had began, Hermione made her way back to the office.

It was unlikely that anybody had lived, those who had, were surly either dying or long gone. But she couldn't quell her curiosity as to what had happened in the room. She had sealed her Master's fate then, condemned him to death. Somehow this thought unsettled her, though she had vowed not to pay heed to these feelings.

'Yet…' she said to herself.

A force, not her own, compelled Hermione Granger to go back to the room she had left him. Somehow she knew she needed to see her Master once more, she needed to know his fate. There was no way to dress it up differently or lie to herself, in some inexplicable way she cared for him.

The smell of burnt flesh and entrails greeted her as she turned the corner to the office. The door had been blown off its hinges, lying haphazardly in the hallway. Hermione paused and listened. She heard nothing. Gingerly she stepped over the door, wand at the ready. There was an eery silence that had fallen over this place. She bent over slightly then squinted, as if it would make her vision better. Her left hand on the door frame, her wand in the right, she peered inside the office.

There were dead people everywhere. Most of them were unrecognizable as they had either been reduced to simple parts or their faces just didn't exist anymore. She searched the room, the blood staining her shoes, penetrating the leather, her stomach threatening to wretch at the sight. Wormgood was dead, and she spit on his corpse. She had been suppressing her emotions for so long, it felt good to just let it all out. Her eyes swept the room, in search of Severus Snape.

The Dark Lord was not there, but neither was her Master. Not a body bore his clothing, not a recognizable face his. Her eyes darted around the room looking for something to tip her off to the the whereabouts of her Master. She couldn't keep thinking of him as that, even though her servitude had clearly ended.

'There.' She noticed dragging marks through the blood. They lead through the door and off to the right.

She followed the blood down a dark hallway. It wasn't the safest thing she could be doing, but she was compelled to do so. Her heart was racing, her feet carrying her faster and faster in pursuit of an unknown thing. It was labored breathing and a moan that turned her head toward a dark heap on the floor.

"Master?" she squeaked. Something in her moved, something inside her fought against all the things her mind had told her. All the reasoning she had built up to hate him, to leave him, to get back at him for all he had done, vanished. Her heart took over, made her rush to his side, tears in her eyes.

She was on her knees, pulling his head onto them, turning his face toward hers. Blood was coming out of his mouth, his face was wretched with pain. "Come now Master, I'll get you out of here."

She was crying now, uncontrollable crying over him. He raised a finger to her face, not able to respond to her. Looking at his injuries, his organs exposed and only barely kept inside his body, the amount of blood he had lost, she knew deep down he wouldn't make it. That he was beyond her help, beyond anybody's help.

He had that bloody picture in his hand though, turned face down at his side, his eyes focused on hers. She didn't know what to say, so she held him and stared into his eyes pleading to any god that would listen for help.

Then she felt him enter her mind, his dark eyes penetrating her brown ones. There was no reason to deny who she was anymore, no reason to cover up her true person as she had a few weeks before. Hermione felt him race through her mind, starting with the most recent memories she had and pushing back further, to her time with the Order to her training with him in Occlumency then..

She felt him fading, her eyes focusing on the dying man in front of her. There was something in the way he looked at her, in his beautiful eyes that made her question what he was thinking. It was surprise, peace and perhaps something else. He tried to utter something but she could not make it out, she stared at his face, holding his cheek in one hand. He smiled at her then, and then he was gone.

"NOOOOO!" She screamed, her tears falling like raindrops on his face. "No." Hermione hugged his head to her body, lacing her hands in his hair and gripping him as tightly as she could. Somehow she knew, she suddenly had come to realization that this was what he had wanted all along. That he somehow had done everything in his power to bring them to this point. She couldn't explain how she knew or why, just that he had wanted it this way.

She'd lost all track of time sitting there, holding him in her arms. To the point that she almost didn't register footsteps coming toward her. Hermione raised her wand, seeing Neville racing toward her. He was covered in blood, but it seemed not to be his own.

"We have to go." He said. "The others are out, we have to leave."

But Hermione didn't want to do. She wanted to stay with him, hold him, not let his body be desecrated.

Her hesitation made Neville grab her by the shoulder and pull her toward him.

"Take your hands off me." She yelled, pulling away from her friend. A fury in her voice she had not known she could muster.

Neville grabbed her again, "Hermione! We have to go now! Right now!" He tried to restrain her but she fell toward the body of her fallen Master, snatching the photo from his hand and turning it so she could see it.

All she could do was put her hand to her mouth in shock. It was her, all this time, all these things he had done. He had done them for her!

The sound that escaped her mouth was so mournful, so painful that even Neville took a step back from her. She clenched the photo to her breast, her body wretched in pain and she screamed as loud as she could. She cried for the love that would never be, for a tenderness they would never know together - for a life that had been taken from them by forces not under their control. She cried because she knew, she knew that she loved him too. She knew that all she had done, that all she would ever do, would be for him.

'For the love of my Master.' she promised herself.

She was too weak now to fight Neville's hands as he lifted her to her feet once more and dragged her away. Her head still turned toward the man who was not only her hero, but her saviour.

Note: So I really hope you got into this chapter. I was crying a lot, but I feel as though it's because the vision is very clear in my mind. If this chapter taught me anything it's that I need to write emotional pain better. I think that, at a later date, I will revise this chapter with more feeling. There has to be more ways to describe the deep emotions that run through me, and the characters, in this moment.

I look forward to your comments. It's a dark story, it was always going to be dark. Thanks to all of you who have been taking this ride with me. I would have never expected the positive reception of this story by all of you. Kiss kiss and double kiss.