Chapter 51

Hermione sat by Lupin's bedside, but her thoughts weren't on Remus. Her magic still wasn't strong enough to fully heal him – the werewolf bites on his neck, shoulders, and ankles were still there, scarring – but he was fine otherwise and under the care of Madame Pomphrey.

Her thoughts were instead focused on Severus. He wasn't here. Not in the castle. And he wasn't there when she'd arrived. There was no chance for her to warn him about her revealed status, no chance to beg him not to return to his Master … now she was left waiting for the ghost pains to tell her he was being punished. Because of her.

It had been hours and yet no pain tingled in her magic. Maybe her unmasking had made Voldemort too happy to torture anyone today… Maybe Severus was safe.

"Are you alright?"

If anyone else had lain their hand on her shoulder – especially a certain Headmaster – she wouldn'thave been able to take it. But this was Harry. Her now-brother, her best friend. Equal to Severus in her heart and the most earnest boy she knew.

"I'm fine … you should really be resting." Hermione looked back at the black-haired boy with a forced smile. "Poppy'll have my head if she thought I was bothering you."

He snorted lightly. "Sirius will be here soon, though, and I'm not going to sleep through it and don't you try to make me!"

It was silly, but intentionally. Harry saw light flicker in his sister's face before it once more darkened. "We're a family, right?"

Where had that come from? She glanced up quizzically, but nodded. "Of course."

"Then tell me what's wrong."

Hermione sighed and turned away, not meeting those piercing green eyes. Sometimes Harry became like a dog with a bone. She did too, to be fair, but it was easy to dismiss your own faults.

But should she tell him? There was really only two things Voldemort didn't know now – Severus and their knowing about his Horcruxes – and Harry was her brother now. THe thought of telling him those things Voldemort knew made her stomach clench uncomfortably. Why? Maybe because she'd been keeping so much of this between her and Severus.

"Remember when I told you about my magic? Well . . ."

Next to Remus' bed, she told him about her powers, about how she'd gotten them, about how she'd been hiding them while still trying to help people. Arthur Weasley, Remus, Sirius, Kreacher … Severus. She glanced over that one – Harry noticed, but said nothing – and then told him how that had drawn in the elves, the goblins, Voldemort, and then Greyback.

"Anyone who senses my magic seems to try to get closer," she told him. "So You-Know-Who has been trying to guess at what I am and how to turn me to him."

"When I drew Greyback's attention, I knew it was over. He'd met Mrs. Oswin in the last war and recognized my powers. Voldemort knows my weakness now! My bondmate. Every woman like me needs someone to ground their magic and to take their excess." Hermione screeched, pulling at her hair. "I'm so scared that he'll be found out. I'm here and I can't even warn him, can't even see him right now! I can't reach him! What if something happens to him because of me?"

Like a good brother, Harry said nothing and just held her.

"Severussss … Come to me."

No sign of Hermione existed within the room. No blood on the floor, to his relief, and no bushy hair in any corner. Not that he could be overt in his scrutiny. His gaze was firmly forward as he strode to face his Master. When he reached the makeshift throne, he bowed deeply.

"My Lord."

At this point his Lord would normally have him stand and join his brother, or receive special instruction. He was not told to rise. Not this time.

THe Dark Lord instead rose and circled him.

"Tell me about Miss Granger. Again. Leave nothing out this time."

Severus' heart stopped as he realized what that order meant: Voldemort had either discovered her status, or he'd discovered their dalliance. To not divulge the second would be suicide, but if he knew the first the second would put Hermione in harm's way. Neither were things he could admit to safely.

He bowed deeper. "I have told you everything, my Lord, that I have noticed. She is above average and clearly strong magically, but I have no explanations for you as to how."

Voldemort tutted. "Not good, my loyal servant. Another chance, then. Did you know your apprentice was a link witch?"

Severus could only claim ignorance now. "And what is a link witch, precisely?"

Another tsk. "You disappoint me, Severus. Very well, another question then.

"Any romances? Dalliances? One-time affairs at all within the length of her apprenticeship?" The question came calmly, but Severus knew that was only hiding the man's most deadly urges.

"I have not allowed her such frivolities, and to my knowledge she had not defied me in this."

There. Perfectly reasonable as an excuse and one that they'd already told Hermione's peers.

"She must have one!" Voldemort his now, his impatience rising. "It would be a muggle, someone she knows, one she visits regularly. She could not be apart from him for long, she would suffer, dearly, if she even tried! She must be visiting somewhere, you inept fool! You must know something."

His Occlumency was now tight against his consciousness. Hermione was pushed to the back of his mind – she must mean nothing to him in this moment, everything would mean nothing now unless it incited anger – and he responded, "I am sorry, my Lord, but I have no knowledge of such."

"Then you must be punished, Severus," the Dark Lord told him, voice deadly, "for your failure as a spy."

He prostrated himself low. "As you command, my Lord."

"You will not even have the pleasure of my wand," Voldemort hissed. "There is but one punishment you truly fear, Severus. Greyback!"

Severus felt himself go faint in fear. He'd never once lost his fear of werewolves, not since Lupin had nearly killed him in the Shrieking Shack. Still, he held himself stiffly and focused all fear into anger as Greyback came up from behind him.

"Well, wolf?" He growled. "Do you worst."

The werewolf growled at the challenge. He was the alpha, the dominant. He would be shown respect. He took the Professor's robes in his hand and pulled, choking him, squeezing the breath from him as his fist rotated and tightened the man's stiff collar. Once he was properly position, that robe was ripped apart between the shoulder and rent from his body. THe scars of his previous bites shows all over his body. Severus knew that, in some way, those scars would appease the wolf. It was why he'd never asked Hermione to heal him as she had Lupin. For such a time as this.

Without further ceremony he was pressed down in a humiliating position, forced by a hand in his hair to arch and offer his neck to the werewolf. Straight for the jugular, then. He barely had time for this thought before Greyback began his snack.

The bite was not deep, but nothing could stop the unbearably unclean bite, the stinging in the wound and the pain of razors piercing his skin. He feared death always in that moment, when a werewolf of questionable restraint had him so vulnerable. He did not pull his neck away – he knew it would only hurt more, only cause more damage – but his legs kicked and jerked involuntarily.

Then the bite stopped.

Severus dropped callously to the ground and GReyback stared at him with a hunger he had never seen before. Yes, the werewolf enjoyed him, but never with that gleam in his eyes. And he'd never let go mid-bite.

"You. You bonded to the alpha female."

Severus instantly stiffened. No. No. He fumbled around, as if delirious with pain, and tried to reach his portkey. He always kept it in his boot. If he could reach it …

"No, you're wrong, you must be!" He denied as earnestly as he could. "I would never touch a woman of yours, you filthy beast!"

Greyback growled, his eyes glowing dangerously. "Not mine. Your girl, the apprentice. The link witch."

Severus sneered at the werewolf. "A mudblood? I would not!"

He tried, but the moment he so much as touch his shoe his fumblings were noticed for what they were. Voldemort stood and waved his wand in a very simply motion. His wand was not quick enough and he was immediately frozen, pretrified. Fully aware but unable to move.

"Drawing your wand on your Master?" Voldemort hissed, descending on him. "It seems I have found your true loyalties, Severus. I have treated you just as any other servant, better, even, as I pitied you! Yet you raise your wand to me, you hide this from me!"

"Traitor! I knew it! I knew he would betray you, Master!" Bellatrix cackled madly. "Let me punish him! Let me kill him!"

Voldemort ignored the commotion of his follwers. "Greyback, you are certain? He is hers?"

Behind him he heard the smacking of lips. Greyback was no doubt licking his lips, showing just how sure he was. Severus took the moment where the attention was not on him to try to waandlessly unfreeze himself. The magic of Voldemort was too strong.

Voldemort's attention returned to him and the anger at his wand was now tinted with victory.

"Well, well. It seems we have our bait for the witch," Voldemort laughed. A cold, high sound that sent shivers down his spine. He couldn't let him do this. He would die first, kill himself before he'd let his Master kill the woman he'd finally found love with, a woman too good for him, a woman who deserved to live where he did not. But he could do nothing. "I had no idea she could select a wizard for her consort. Oh, this will be sweet. Punish a traitor and capture an elusive magic all in one go. Yes, I can see it in your eyes, the determination. She is precious to you, isn't she? You would fight even me for a taste of her. Oh, Severus, you should know better than to throw everything away for woman.

"Lucius!" he barked out behind him. "I believe you know Severus well. Strip him. Search him. He will have measures and countermeasures hidden on his person and I will not have him ruin my plans with an unseen weapon."

It was the best person he could have asked for. Lucius would not take advantage of this order, nor would he do anything truly unsavoury. But being stripped was to disarm him completely. His spare potions were in his pockets, and two portkeys in his shoe and in the lining of his robes. The necklace Hermione had given him to communicate with her would be taken too. When even his underwear was removed – the button in his boxers that would tell Dumbledore he'd been captured and discovered – was taken from him and burned with his other things. Jeers and laughs from the crowd at his naked form were only made worse as Malfoy's hand brushed over every inch of his skin. He still had one hop, one last failsafe that Mafloy might just overlook, might even lie about if he truly was his friend –

No, his hand paused right at the mole-like birthmark he'd fatsened with a sticking charm right to his skin. Death Eaters tended to bind hands right behind the back like common thugs, and he'd placed the mole right at the top of his buttocks so he could reach it in that very instance. Dumbledore had placed the Order's Pheonix right there, underneath, in an embarrassing exchange behind close and heavily warded doors. One touch and the Order could be notified. He took little comfort in knowing Malfoy could not remove the phoenix, could not even see it, but one detection spell strong enough …

Malfoy moved again. Severus was surprised, very surprised. Did Lucius truly consider him such a close friend as to defy his Lord, or did he not believe the birthmark was false?

"He is now unarmed, my Lord."

Naked, frozen, and in front of everyone was on par with the the humiliations of his youth but he could not focus on it in the face of his very real fear. Voldemort was looking at him with clear anger, but it was tempered by a much worse look; desire. Not for his body, no, but for his value.

He could not move, could not plead his case … he would not be able to manipulate his way out of this, not yet.

Then Wormtail was summoned. At first the little rat thought he was going to be honoured, allowed some privilege over Severus. The rodent stood between Voldemort and Severus with wand raised, ready to show the same malevolence the other Marauders did as children. But as he braced for the attack, Voldemort loomed behind the Potter's betrayer, a golden dagger glinting dangerously overhead.

Hermione jumped from her brother's arms, a sudden, stabbing pain going through her heart. Her bond … the magic seemed to pull against her, straight from the center of feeling, and painfully wrenched her forward to an empty space where her mate should be.

Where he should be … No! Hermione pulled herself back, panicked. Severus! It took everything she had not to go to him then. He was not dying, she would be able to feel it, but her magic was panicking trying to find him. No, no, if she followed the pull she knew she would land back with Voldemort. But she couldn't feel Severus!

She didn't even realize she'd been clawing at her chest until Harry grabbed her hands and pulled them away from her.

"Hermione!" His panicked green eyes tried to bring her back to focus. "'Mione! Come on, come back! What's happened? Is it a vision, like mine?"

"Severus, Severus is in trouble!" She was squirming in his grip. "It hurts, it hurts! I need him!"

His eyes narrowed at her. "He's the guy you bonded to, isn't he?"

Tears flowed to her eyes. The secret didn't matter anymore, not when he is captured. "Yes, yes, he is, I'm sorry! We need to save him, I need him!"

Her resistance was falling, she wanted to go to him so badly.

Then, as if sensing her distress, Dumbledore arrived. One look and he was over to the fireplace and summoning help. Mrs. Oswin was through in a blaze of green in an instant, taking Hermione into her arms and flushing her with magic. She was singing almost, chanting into Hermione's ear, into her magic. Her voice washed the magic over it's escaping tendrils, smoothing them back into her main core. The pain in her heart receded some, but became bearable.

"I have to save him," Hermione cried to the woman. Her kind, elderly face could only show her sorrow instead of the comfort she craved. "Please."

"You mustn't, sweetling." Mrs. Oswin tightened the magic around her. "It is how he lures us into his power. Your bonded one is now in the center of a trap just for you, a field wherein if you enter you will not be able to escape, a cage for your magic. If you follow the pull you will land right in the middle of it and he will have you. Do you understand?"

Hermione sniffled. "But … what if he's hurt? What if .. they …"

"He will not be killed," Mrs. Oswin promised, her face grave. "That man knows the only way to ensure your cooperation is your love. You-Know-Who will take no risks with his life and will ensure his survival."

Then, a sad, pensive look. "What I've done can only last so long, my girl. It will only delay what must be. You must be with him. This will … give you time to prepare. But the longer you are without him, the more your magic will try and force you there."

Hermione looked around. Dumbledore looked on tiredly from the fireplace, moving no closer, and Harry looked so worried she thought his heart may break for her.

"How long?"

"A week, maybe more if you stay rooted to the earth. But you will still go."

It was too soon. Harry had been saved, but there were still Horcruxes about. The snake, possibly another. And they weren't ready to take him on. Not truly.

And Umbridge ... if she left, who knows what she would do to Harry. They'd just thrown their bond in her face, and if she disappeared the cow might just take advantage.

So she needed to rescue him. Herself. She needed to keep him from Voldemort until they were ready to kill him. But there would be no freedom for her, not the kind she could offer Harry. Severus was captured and soon she'd be drawn back to him, slammed in the same cage as him.

She needed to plan, but she couldn't. Her whole body was being thrown about by her magic as if in a turbulent wind. Mrs. Oswin told her that she had never tried the spell before and it wasn't working the way she'd hoped. She needed to be grounded more. Her feet were now constantly pressed into the earth below her but it didn't stop the ache.

"You need more grounding," Mrs. Oswin bathed her brow as she flushed with fever. "Is there no one else like us you know of, Albus? There must be someone on the other continents."

Hermione groaned out, forcefully, "Grishkna."

"Of course, the goblins," Dumbledore exhaled. "I'll be back soon."

Hours seemed to pass, and in her haze she briefly realized that Dumbledore was an enemy of the goblins now and he had gone to see them. Targnak might not even come since the Headmaster was the one asking. But her focus turned back to the reaching and reaching of her magic.

Finally, a rough, knobbly hand rested on her head. A last shield drew over her to hold back her magic just enough for the haze to pass. She opened her eyes to see Targnak, a face filled with both shared sorrow and anger.

"Thank you," she breathed in relief.

He bowed his head to her. "Your enemies be my enemies, your trials mine to support. The dark one has done this to you. He has stolen your mate."

The words caught in her throat, so she merely nodded.

Her Grishkna's eyes hardened. "Then it is war."

"It's not time," she croaked. "We're not ready."

The goblin shook his head. "We will not move before you, Apprentice, but we are at your call in the fight against him. You are our sister, and we your brothers-in-arms. We stand with you."

"Are you in control?" Dumbledore stood off to the side, where she saw a half-dozen goblins standing between him and their leader.

Her body still felt feverish, her mind still distracted by a pull on her magic, but she was coherent enough. She nodded.

"Then we need to prepare."