Hermione moaned as the waking reality of pain washed over her. She was not yet able to open her eyes.
"That was too easy."
"That's why we bided our time. If we had done something stupid, they would have known about us."
"Shouldn't we take them to the Dark Lord now? Keeping them here is just asking for aurors to stop in."
It was a small comfort to know that she had been right with her suspicions. Tom Pierce, cunning and malevolent, and Philip... Friendly, flirtatious, never raised his voice, never got upset. How could he be a Death Eater?
"Get some fucking backbone. We have the kid. Voldemort wants him for something big, and we have him. We have the power over him now. Why should we give him to Voldemort?"
There was the sound of a hand meeting flesh, and Philip mewling. "Why'd you do that?"
"Because if you're going to be a crying baby, then I'll take care of you right here. I don't need you."
Finally Hermione forced her eyelids open, and wished she hadn't. The ropes were tight enough for her to know she had been securely tied to the chair, but the sight before her... With a sudden violent lurch, she vomited, barely missing her lap.
"Awake, finally. Good. First," Pierce said, kneeling next to the chair, "I have to know what you thought of the spell Voldemort taught his loyal supporters. Better than your average stun."
If she hadn't been the victim of it, Hermione might have been willing to give credit because she felt like her brain was wrapped in wet cotton. Not only was her thinking fuzzy and slow, but the next obvious step to escape by turning into a tiger felt like a far off dream. The transformation, which she had grown very good at, wouldn't come to her.
"Be careful; she's dangerous," Philip said, concern in his voice.
Hermione looked at him and winced. His focus was on her, because behind him slumped in a chair was a very battered and unconscious Severus.
"I told you, she's harmless now. Keep your eye on him. He's got no wand, but I don't want him pulling anything. I want to be able to see each detail when I turn her inside out," Pierce said, and smiled to show very white and even teeth.
At the expression, Hermione's stomach heaved, and she coughed up a mouthful of brownish stomach acid. Only one thought could penetrate the thick confusion of her mind: we're going to die. Tortured and killed, slowly with lots of pain, and no one would know. They'd just rot away and no one would ever know. She didn't want to die. She just wanted to be back at home, back in bed where it was warm and safe, and not anywhere near these men.
"...harmless anyway. You know it as well as I do; you read the file," Pierce was saying, but not to Hermione. He and Philip were both looking at the limp form of Severus, tied loosely to his chair. "It'll be amusing to watch."
Philip tried to grin, but it was just a sickly twitching of his lips. "I... really think--"
Pierce hit him again, an open-handed slap that left a red print of his hand. "I don't care what you think. I don't really need you if you want to run back to Voldemort," he hissed, eyes narrowed dangerously. "I have his secret weapon now, and I'll use it. Watch Snape."
Hand held to his cheek, near tears, Philip stood back behind the chair their other prisoner was in, and tried not to look at much of anything.
"Now--"
"You... won't get anything out of me," Hermione wheezed, held upright only by the ropes that restrained her. "I don't know where Harry Potter is."
"Fuck Harry Potter!" Pierce snapped, but then suddenly smiled benignly at her. "You don't even know what I want. Besides, I'm rather sure I'll get everything I want out of you. Crucio."
Hermione had just enough time to register pain firing through every fiber of her body, enough time to stiffen in the chair, enough time to open her mouth to scream, before it ended.
"You see? Whatever you thought I wanted from you, you were wrong."
After that, Hermione's mind did all it could to protect itself, separate itself from the physical. Breathing exercises were futile as her screams ripped all the breath from her lungs anyway, and she just didn't have the proper training for much of anything else. Mostly she just babbled about escaping, or dying, sleeping, doing anything other than being trapped in that chair and having every pain curse used on her.
"What-what about the kid?" Philip asked, wincing with every noise Hermione made.
"What about him? He's not going anywhere," Pierce replied, breathing heavily. There was sweat trickling down his face, and his hair was plastered to the back of his neck. "He can't do magic and is dumb as a rock. Don't worry about that." Then he turned his attention completely back to Hermione, eyes alight with malice.
The sound of screaming rang in Severus' ears, and his initial belief was that this was another of his nightmares about Azkaban. When he managed to get his eyes open, he saw that it was worse than he could have ever imagined. Much worse.
Hermione was across the room, tied to a chair, and looking near death. Her face was pale, more pale than he had even seen his own, her eyes dull and glazed over with pain, and her hung in sweaty strands as she gasped for air. She didn't meet his gaze.
Escape. He had to escape. That was the only thing he could think of. His wand was gone, he knew that much, and he wouldn't be able to fight in his condition. Standing wasn't even a sure thing. There was only one way to do it.
"Go ahead. Do it. You won't get away; the room is sealed. Turn into a harmless little snake. You can't help her or yourself," Philip said, his fingers nervously running over the smooth wood of his wand. His eyes kept darting between the sluggishly moving Snape and Pierce. "You'll get your turn soon enough."
They knew. They knew he was utterly powerless, and worse, Hermione knew. That was why she wouldn't look at him. There was no way he could help her.
"Crucio!"
Severus jerked at the curse and Hermione's screams. It would easy enough to slip out of the loose ropes, but for what? What could he do? But how could he do nothing while she was suffering? Something. Anything.
The pain ended, and to her chagrin, Hermione was still conscious. Spittle ran from her lower lip, but she couldn't bring herself to care. The pain, it just ripped everything from her, even something as insignificant as spit. Her body felt unpleasantly rubbery, and she was sure part of it was due to the multiple bonebreaker curses that had been used, but she could lift her head.
And wanted to look away immediately. Severus was watching her, and she was sure her own pain was mirrored on his face. The helplessness... Help me. Do anything, she pleaded silently, only able to express the sentiment with her own eyes. Even if it's just death.
At first she believed it was just a hallucination brought on by the pain. She was intimately familiar with his transformation, where pale skin became black scales first, where and how man became serpent. This was different, not what she had witnessed before, but her thoughts wouldn't collect themselves to lend to understanding.
She watched him rear back, lift his body over a meter off the floor. Philip screamed, a ridiculously girlish noise, and then Severus struck.
"What are you screami--holy hell!" Pierce whipped around, his wand pointed and ready for use, but the distance between him and the chair had only less than two meters, and Severus was much larger than that. First the hand, which spasmed as fangs sunk into it, and the wand went rolling across the floor.
The robes proved to be little defense as Severus struck once again at the calf of the man. Pierce, in agony, dropped to the floor attempting to clutch his hand and his leg simultaneously, and left himself open for the final strike.
His howl came out as a bare gurgle as his neck was pierced, and the venom rushing through him started to take effect. In moments, he was limp, unmoving. Philip was thrashing weakly, having only been bitten once, but he was growing more still.
Severus' hood closed, and with an ophidian limp, crossed the remaining distance to Hermione. He changed at her feet, and began to untie her with partially numb fingers. Finally free of them, she fell out of the chair and into his arms. "Hermione, can you hear me?"
Slowly her eyes opened. "I can hear you."
Though dull, they weren't empty. She was still in her right mind, and he clutched her to him as tightly as he thought was safe for her. He didn't weep, didn't speak, did nothing outside of simply holding her.
"Garry," she said quietly from against his chest. "Wandless magic, with him..."
He held her for another minute, just to assure that she wasn't in trouble, her breathing steady, heart strong, skin warm, then laid her out on the floo. "Relax, close your eyes." He stripped off his robe and folded it, then placed it under her head. "I'll summon help."
"I'll wait right here," she mumbled, somehow managing a small smile.
Severus stood, ignoring the pain that ran through his bones, and looked about the room. Nothing of any use and two doors. Through the first door was some sort of tiny living room with a couch and an empty fireplace. Huddled in the corner, against cold stone, was the boy. "Mr. Fudge, are you hurt?"
A whimpering sound emanated from his form, but he didn't move at all. "I need your help. I need to get a fire started, to get help." Still no response. "Mr. Fudge!"
The boy jumped, and turned his frightened eyes on Severus.
"We need help; I need to start a fire. I can only do that if you assist me." He nodded as the boy stood and walked, somewhat mechanically, over to him. "Good. You're safe now; those men are dead."
Swallowing thickly, and hoping for a little luck, Severus put his hand on the boy's shoulder, then pointed his wand hand at the fireplace. It was no lie about the child; the power, even without holding a wand, was almost a physical manifestation. "Incendio," he muttered, and jumped back when a jet of flame shot from the tips of his fingers and hit the back of the fireplace, sending fire curling out and up the walls.
Severus stared, then removed his hand from Garry. "Can you keep a promise?"
"Yes."
"Then promise that you will never go with a stranger unless your parents say it's acceptable, and you will never become a Death Eater or join with Voldemort. Promise me that; it's terribly important."
Before the thumb made it into his mouth, Garry said, "I promise. Who's Voldymart?"
Severus chuckled, unable to help it at the mangling of Voldemort's name. "A very evil man, one you want nothing to do with. Now, I only hope they left some floo powder about." Floo powder was a staple of any wizarding business or residence, even if it wasn't regularly used. It was far too useful in case of an emergency, or--"Aha!"
An ornamental sphere that decorated the mantel--gaudily in Severus' opinion--opened to reveal a modest amount of the powder. It took only a pinch in the fire to turn the flames green. "Sirius Black," Severus said.
"Dead." The auror ran his wand over one body, then the next. "Massive quantity of venom in both, almost definitely the cause of death." He stood and looked at the others gathered.
Harry was the first to speak. "I don't think there's any reason to keep them here. Their statements can be taken later."
The others agreed, though Harry noticed some reluctance on the part of the scene officer. Not that it mattered, Unspeakable was high man on the totem pole here, especially with Death Eaters involved.
"I'll go talk to them." He started to walk to the next room.
"I'll need a report from you too, Potter," the auror said loudly, attempting to demonstrate his importance to everyone else within earshot.
But Harry's answer undermined the effort with its casual air. "You'll get it." In the next room, Hermione and Severus were both receiving medical treatment, though neither were actually physically hurt that badly. One of the most important things, which Hermione was being quizzed on currently, was the hex that had been used on her, nulling her magic.
"I don't know," she said, fatigue plain on her face and in her voice. "I didn't hear them at all. We were in the kitchen, and then Garry made a noise, I turned around and there they were. I have no idea how they made it past the wards; they were double-strength at least."
Garry... There would be getting no statement from him; the boy hadn't really understood what was going on, and he hadn't been in the room when the deaths had happened. His parents had already retrieved him as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
At least there were other Unspeakables there to take the statements, and the situation wasn't left in the hands of biased and unsympathetic aurors. "What about you, Severus? I have a hard time believing they caught you by surprise," he said with a wry grin.
"Believe it, Potter. Sometimes I manage to fool myself into believing I'm a normal wizard and don't have Death Eater hit squads after me. I picked an unfortunate moment to let the confines of the Ministry lull me." He didn't smile, but there was the barest hint of amusement in his voice.
Harry crouched next to the chair Severus was slouched in, and looked very serious to match his voice. "What happened to you being totally harmless?" he asked quietly.
"I've never been totally harmless; you should know that."
"Help me out here, Severus. Give me something now, and we can let you go home to finish this up. Trust me, for once, that I would like nothing more than to get you two out of here."
They looked at one another for a moment, before Severus turned his gaze on Hermione. Her eyes were closed, and she was speaking quietly to one of Harry's co-workers. "I don't know what happened exactly," Severus began, careful not to be heard by anyone other than Harry. "They were... torturing her, and I had to do something. I didn't have my wand, but..." His lip curled in something between a frown and a snarl; his lip was quivering. "Anything was better than sitting in that chair and watching.
"It felt so strange, not like the first time, but different." Lips returning to a straight line again, Severus looked at Harry with all seriousness. "I changed, and I knew right away what to do. It's the most liberating part of being an animagus, Potter. I can consider my options," he said and tapped his head, "and allow my instincts to make the decision. My decision in this case was to act with extreme prejudice. Strike in defense of another life."
"But that doesn't explain how you changed your animagus form."
"I don't know. I was only taught the practical applications of the ability, not the theory behind it."
With a sigh, Harry stood. "I think that's enough for now. We'll get the rest of your statements later today. Is that all right?"
"Of course. Potter... I won't go back, will I?"
Harry stared at him blankly, which Severus read incorrectly.
"I won't hesitate to run if that's what it's going to be. I've done everything they've wanted without question. It's been 30 years; I want to have a life again."
It suddenly hit Harry, with the desperation in his eyes, what he was referring to. "No," he said quietly. "No, you won't go back. I'll make sure of it." Maybe, though he would never admit and damage the man's pride, that Harry could some day repay him for his service by removing that file. "Gentlemen," he said loudly, getting everyone's attention in the room, "we can get statements later. I think it's pretty clear what happened here."
He pretended not to hear Severus' sigh of relief.
A portkey was hastily prepared for the couple, as they were in no condition to be apparating anywhere.
"How about I follow along, and when you're ready, I can let the others know?" Harry suggested. Just to make it sound innocent really. He was worried, and the two weren't in any shape to be fighting off more over-excited Death Eaters. "I can check over the wards while I'm there."
The other Unspeakables, naturally, had no problem with the plan. The aurors looked sullen once again to have the decisions removed from their hands, and Hermione looked grateful. Severus just looked dead tired.
Harry took the portkey out of convenience, and immediately had his wand out.
"How long do we have, Potter?" Severus asked as he supported Hermione.
"How long do you need?"
"You said the afternoon..."
"Perfectly fine. Three? Four?"
Severus didn't answer, just looked at Hermione as she leaned against him, clutching his robes. "Four, I think," he answered quietly. "Make yourself at home; we'll be upstairs." He lifted Hermione into his arms and carried her up the stairs.
"Four it is," Harry said quietly and watched them go.
To pass the time, he checked the wards that guarded the house, and strengthened them where needed, that it was in damn few places. It was still unplottable, the anti-apparation field was still in place, and the place should have been secure. With the two Death Eaters dead, it might be impossible to discover how they had pierced the defenses here.
The cube had been meant only as an early warning device, to know when Garry Fudge's file was accessed, so why hadn't Hermione reacted? He knew it had worked, as it was a device of his own making. So what had gone wrong here?
At precisely four, Severus and Hermione came down the stairs with their feline escort. While Kitsune was happily cuddled in Hermione's arms, the two men would not stoop to such a level. Not when there was company about.
And there was definitely company. Harry was there, as well as three of his co-workers, Sirius, and even...
"Ron!"
Hermione charged down the remaining stairs, nearly trampling everyone in her path, and gave Ron a fierce, one-armed hug. She hadn't expected his reaction, so her hold tightened when his arms hugged her back more gently.
"Hi, Hermione. How are you?"
"I'm fine now, Ron. Did you hear about what happened?" She pulled back to look at him, noting at the back of her mind that the others had retreated into the sitting room, and were talking quietly.
Ron, not the boy or even young man she remembered, nodded, his eyes more serious than she could ever remember them being. "Harry told me. Everything." He looked away for a moment, his mouth curving into a familiar half-frown/grimace. "I'm sorry for being so terrible to you."
"You weren't--"
"I was! Don't defend me, Hermione. I'm an adult now; I should be able to act like one." He looked straight into her eyes, his hand on her shoulder, gripping it tightly. "I'm glad you're OK. I'm sorry for how I treated you. It wasn't right of me, not to act like that to a friend."
Unable to contain her smile or the happy tears, Hermione gestured to the library. "I think they'll be a bit; let's do some catching up."
The corners of Ron's mouth lifted. "Sure."
In the sitting room, Harry looked at the others, and nodded to himself. "I think you were very intentionally set up. I think they used you all as bait."
Severus didn't move. "What?"
"I think they put three likely targets together to draw the Death Eaters in the Ministry out. It doesn't make sense otherwise." Harry looked to his companions, who were all gravely stern, but not with disbelief.
He wasn't done yet though. "Those wards? It's lucky Hermione reinforced them or they would have been there the next day. Someone--"
"Sabotage," Sirius said quietly, scowling.
Harry nodded. "Severus, I talked to Hermione the other day. I know it'll be difficult for her to accept, but what you said... I think you need to do it."
Nobody else moved.
"Run? Just like that?" Now when someone suggested it be done, it didn't sound like such a good idea.
"Snape, we're not friends," Sirius said with more weight than Severus had ever heard him use before, "but... I know what's right and what isn't. Just like I told Remus, I'm telling you: leave the country. Get away from the Ministry any way you can. Hermione doesn't deserve to live like this."
"If you can keep helping us out," said Harry, "wherever you end up, we'd appreciate it, but I'm not going to ask you to do it. A lot of you has been asked already. Too much."
Severus swallowed, and his mouth tasted sour. "Where would we go? Gringott's--"
"A loan, if you like. Until it can be withdrawn from your account. Enough to get you started someplace else. The mainland, Asia, South America, the States..." Harry was getting dangerously close to begging. "Remus has managed, and it's hard for all of us, it's also easier to know he's happy and safe. Please, for Hermione's sake if not your own, consider it."
"I will." Not right away, but he would. There would be times, he was sure, in the future it would be nearly impossible for him not to run.
Harry smiled, barely. "That's all we can ask then. I suppose we need your statement now.
The revelation of details was something he didn't even need to think about to do. Words flowed easily form his lips as he thought about what had happened. They wouldn't apply logic to his statement, wouldn't truly figure things out, so he had to.
Hermione's file, probably had been the basis of it all. Then the boy's. His own had probably not been touched; his status as an animagus was not a secret kept there. No, that fact was kept totally unhidden, a matter of public record. What an idiotic thing, expecting him to remain effective when anyone could just look up his secrets.
"I think that's about it," Harry said suddenly, and stood. "It'll take just a moment to get Hermione's and then we can go."
"Very well," Severus answered in his most measured tone. Would he ever feel truly safe in this house again? Crookshanks chose that moment to hop first onto the couch, then climb on his lap, purring furiously. "There was nothing you could have done, old man," he said quietly, and stroked the orange fur, not bothering to hide the fondness in his eyes.
Hermione's statement was even shorter than Severus'. With a pinched expression on her face, she ran through the list of curses that had been used on her as best she could remember. She detailed how the magic-dulling hex had felt, and gave a bare nod to Sirius when he raised his eyebrows as a silent question. Sirius would no doubt relay the information later to Harry and not bring up the details.
"I knew better than to say this to Severus, Hermione," Harry said as his questioning ended, "but if you ever need anything, just ask. Or if you just want to talk. In fact, I expect to see your owl at my window now and again."
"I will, Harry."
"Me too, Hermione," Ron added eagerly, just as he always had before.
"You too, Ron. And thank you for helping us. It means a lot to me, and Severus. He'll never say it though." She smiled, and for the first time in what felt like months, it reached her eyes.
"We know." Ron had said it, but there was none of the accompanying insults.
"Harry, what will happen to Garry? He's still in danger," Hermione said, and was immediately concerned by the displeased looks the others passed between them.
"I'm not sure exactly, but as far as I know, the Fudge family has fled the country now that their son has served his purpose," Harry replied coldly. "Poor kid."
Hermione nodded. "They don't seem to know what a great little boy they have. I hope things work out for him." With a tired sigh, she smiled. "But that's me just being a worrier, and you have other things to deal with."
Hugs and kisses were passed around, even to the other Unspeakables in an uncommon display of affection from Hermione. She even surprised herself with that. "Good day, Potter, Weasley, Black, gentlemen," Severus said gravely from the sitting room; Crookshanks was still on his lap.
They watched the last of the visitors go, Hermione from the door, Severus out the window, and then the door closed. Hermione visibly relaxed and went to sit by Severus.
"Finally, we're all alone again."
"A fascinating opportunity."
"I agree. You know what I'd like to do?" Hermione smiled and took hold of his hand.
"Whatever I wish?"
She led him to the sitting room. "You're funny, and wrong. But I don't think it's something you'll object to." Her fingers started to open his robes leisurely.
Crookshanks jumped off his lap as she started to crowd him out.
"The laundry? Really, Hermione, that's not necessary."
"Professor Snape makes a funny." She suddenly yanked at his robes and tore them open. At his upraised eyebrows, she smiled slyly. "When a girl's gotta have it, she's gotta have it now." She kissed him.
...smell funny.
Hermione lifted her head and looked around the room. Her vantage point from the floor didn't reveal much, but she couldn't imagine anyone getting through the wards without them knowing.
They do it all the time. You'll get used to it.
"Severus, someone's here," she whispered, and pushed his head away form her chest.
He ignored her efforts. "Pay them no mind."
"There's someone here."
This time he lifted his head and looked at her. He wore a puzzled expression for a moment, then started to laugh. "My dear, there's no one here who hasn't been here before."
Harry or Sirius or Susan or... He gestured with just his head to the chair that was behind her. When she looked back, two furry forms were resting next to one another. Crookshanks' eyes were closed, but Kitsune was watching them closely. "It was... I heard them?"
"It's a side effect of being an animagus. Don't worry, you won't hear them chattering all the time. Just every now and then. And it's not all animals; just the ones you have a rapport with."
"Oh." She just kept staring at the two cats. "This is so weird."
Why is she staring at us? Is my fur dirty?
Maybe. Crookshanks began to lick the white ring around Kitsune's neck.
If you truly find the cats more interesting, then I'll just go and make myself a sandwich," Severus said, and started to get up.
"No!" she said hurriedly, and held his arm. "It's just weird. Now I'm going to feel self-conscious around them all the time."
Severus began kissing her neck once again. "You'll get used to it; I have. Though Lorenz tends to chatter on about the most inconsequential things. I have to wonder how I ended up with a Gryffindor owl."
Hermione was ready to answer back, but was compelled to listen to cats' commentary now.
Is she all right? He's on top of her.
It's how humans mate. They do it all the time.
So all those times she was screaming, she wasn't hurt? I wasn't sure if I should jump on his head and claw his eyes out.
No, the screaming's a good thing.
Oh. Why would she scream if it's good?
Hermione was aghast, and couldn't focus at all on what she was doing, or rather not doing.
I don't know. Humans are just strange.
There was silence, and Hermione figured either the conversation was at an end or her comprehension of them was done for the time being. Finally she could keep her mind firmly on her opportunity to scream as loudly as she wanted.
It's not like he's got a barbed penis or anything...
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