1.

"What is the meaning of this!" A voice hissed. "Can you not follow the orders of your Lord?"

"She was being… difficult… My Lord." She heard a rough voice reply

"I don't care if she broke your neck! I told you to bring her to me in one piece!"

"My Lord…"

"Crucio!"

The girl in question listened from her place on the floor; her throat and shoulder burning as if she were doused in acid. She couldn't remember where she was or how she got there. The voices sounded familiar, but she was unable to place either. She knew one man sounded like a snake more than a man… snake?

Red, slitted eyes… basilisk… Voldemort.

Fuck! How the hell… what the hell happened? The burning began to spread through her body- through her limbs and abdomen, and slowly coming to converge at her chest. The fire was a pain worse than anything imaginable. She didn't want to scream out and gritted her teeth against the pain. Her hands curled into fists and her back arched.

She just wanted the pain to end. She didn't care how. Fainting, death, anything but this pain.

When the burning finally reached her chest, her heart, all thought escaped her. There was no chance for silence now. She screamed loud and piercing sound. Her hands grabbed and scratched at her heart, trying to give the fire an escape.

When her screams stopped suddenly, she heard a far away voice calling "Severus".

A rustle of robes was the only sound "My Lord"

A few minutes passed until she heard him again. "Ah, Severus. My faithful servant. I see you are as angered as I in this failure of our plan."

"Yes my lord" she heard him grunt. "That fool…" he started then took a breath. "Sorry my lord."

"I understand Severus. Go check the girl. If she lives, she will be a great weapon for us. Her intelligence would have been a great asset to us, mudblood or not. But she will still be useful. If she is dead, it will be a heartache for Potter and will weaken him."

"Yes, My lord" Another rustling of robes.

Suddenly, cold black eyes were staring in her own dead ones. Am I dead? I hope so. She heard a voice in her mind as the black eyes stared into her own, but didn't comprehend a word. He roughly pushed her face away from his own and she watched a wand move over her body. "Don't move" she heard in her mind.

"My Lord, she is dead." He said through gritted teeth, anger radiating off his aura like heat off pavement.

"Crucio!" the voice hissed the spell used earlier. The deep voice from earlier was howling in pain. Voldemort continued to hold the rough man under while speaking to the man who checked her. "Severus. Get that filth off my floor. Leave her somewhere Potter will find her. Better yet. Bring her to the order yourself. See if this act will get you in their good graces. I need you back spying with them."

"Yes, my lord"

Severus Snape, once spy for the Order of the Phoenix couldn't believe the sight before his eyes. He didn't know how he was going to pull it off, but he had to get the girl out of there.

He watched Fenrir facing the Dark Lord, knowing full well the failure of the mission. He smirked behind his mask as the werewolf was punished for damaging what would have been a prize possession to Voldemort.

Then the screaming started.

He had never heard such agony come from a single person. He had been witness to many tortures beyond the Cruciatus, but this was… soul breaking. She may have infuriated him with her know-it-all attitude, but she was an intelligence to be reckoned with. She should have been in Ravenclaw, and probably would have been if not for the incredible strength and courage that placed her in Gryffindor.

Glad to have his mask on, the Potions Master raked his eyes over the thrashing body of his former student, trying to find the source of such pain. A simple beating, no matter how extensive would not have brought on that reaction. He sent a quick spell across the room to be sure none of the other Death Eaters were casting at her.

When Voldemort called him, he immediately put in his mind his anger at Fenrir for damaging his lord's prize and making them have to alter their plans. He could feel the Dark Lords approval at these emotions.

Walking towards her, Severus' knees nearly gave out. Her body was broken- limbs were facing at odd angles and she was covered in blood. Her face was a bruised and bloody mess; each of her eyes swollen to slits.

As his eyes raked over the witch's neck, he froze. Her neck and shoulder were torn apart by an animal… a werewolf.

He looked into the slits of her eyes and cast leglimens. "Granger, I know you're there, if only barely. I will be casting a spell to check your heart rate, but you will register as dead. I will take you from here as was directed by the Dark Lord. Do not move. Do not make a sound. I will get you out of here."

Severus pushed her head to the side roughly, for appearance. He pointed his wand at her neck and over her heart, noticing the color of the glow. "My Lord, she is dead."

When he was told to get her off the floor, he levitated the limp body and left the ballroom. Once outside the manor, he put her in his arms and apparated to the Burrow.