The Man Who Sold the World
Twenty-Nine

Apparently Lucius Malfoy did not enjoy repeating himself. A leather-clad hand slapped Hermione out of her horrified state in a rather ungentle manner. Cheek stinging, she glared at the Death Eater in open defiance but did not say a word. She could not trust herself to form coherent speech. He started to say something, but suddenly turned his back to her. The wide swath of black cloth covering his shoulders impaired her sightlines and did not see what it was that urgently called for his attention. Whatever it was, he put his wand back into the top of his elegant cane and strode purposefully out of the room. The lock snicked shut from the hall.

Alone in the heart of Hogwarts, bound to a chair and wandless, Hermione had nothing but her thoughts. She had spent so much time with Severus, gone through so much with him, only to find out he was the reason all of this had happened. Her brain was so overwhelmed with the experience of Malfoy's memories that she could not even process them logically; she was left with a bundle of rage and pain and confusion sitting squarely in her mind.

The loud pops of two Apparitions startled her out of her jumbled state. She jumped, and the rough ropes scraped against the flesh of her wrists. “Miss Hermione!” squealed Vovo. She focused on his voice, and saw him darting out from behind Graving's desk. “Oh, is Miss Hermione okay?”

He scampered up to her and peered up at her through his huge, glassy eyes. “I'm okay, Vovo,” she replied gently. Her cheek and her wrists stung obstinately. “Although these ropes could use cutting.”

“I will take care of them.” Severus' voice was low and concerned. Hearing it made part of her want to shudder, and she recoiled slightly as he moved towards her. His face had returned to its true self just as hers had. In his Death Eater's costume, he was quite terrifying; he still carried himself as though he were a soldier of the Dark Lord beneath the red cord and black wool.

“No, Severus, you have to get out of here. Lucius Malfoy-“

“Knows you're here,” finished the Death Eater from the doorway. Severus froze, every muscle tense and ready to either flee or fling curses. Vovo slunk back behind the desk, moving so carefully and slowly that Hermione was certain Malfoy did not even register his presence. “Well. Severus Snape. I never thought I would see you alive ever again. I had rather hoped you had simply hidden yourself away and died somewhere. Gods know you have no reason to live.”

“Hello, Lucius,” Severus replied stiffly. “Fancy meeting you in a place like this.”

“Fancy indeed.” Malfoy chuckled. The sound grated on Hermione's ears like steel knives scraping against whetstones. “It is most fortunate that I will not have to have the castle scoured for you. The Dark Lord will be pleased to have you at his mercies that much sooner.”

“I would have thought you would prefer the honours.” Severus had still not moved. His hands still waited at his sides, but Hermione could not take her eyes off the wand tucked behind his belt.

“As I am a loyal servant of the Dark Lord, I think about his pleasure before taking my own.” Severus flinched ever-so-slightly at that word, and Malfoy's smirk widened.

“How generous of you, Lucius.”

“Quite. I am not certain, however, which one of you I shall present to the Dark Lord first-you, or that precious little Mudblood sitting in front of me. I know he would be overjoyed to have either, but I'm simply not sure which one he would prefer.” Malfoy took three menacing steps towards Hermione and stretched out a hand to touch her cheek. Within the constrains of her bindings, all she could do was jerk her head away violently, and he left his hand hanging in the air before her.

“Don't touch her.” A deeply menacing quality entered Severus' voice. It was terrifying, that voice. Hermione had never heard it like that before.

“Or what? You'll kill me? I would like to see you try, Severus.” He eyed the Potions Master up and down and laughed. “Try it, and this little Mudblood that you seem so fond of will end up as dead as all your other friends. Only you will watch every drop of blood exit her body. You will witness every second of her death, knowing that you are helpless.”

Slowly, the strong facade that Severus had built up over the past days started to crumble. The blood drained from his already pale features, leaving him the waxy complexion of a corpse. The very tip of his tongue flicked out to moisten his bottom lip. Lucius had been watching him very carefully; seeing Severus react to his threats only fuelled them further. “She will die, Severus, and it will be your fault. It will be your fault that you left her with no other protectors, no other friends to come to her rescue. You are her only hope, and you are the creature she hates.”

Malfoy pressed a finger to Hermione's cheek and spoke to her without taking his eerily pale eyes off the other man in the room. “Isn't that right, my dear Mudblood? You know all his secrets now. Your only friend in this whole world was the one who betrayed you and all your other friends. The man responsible for destroying your army is standing an arm's reach away. He killed Remus Lupin, Potter's precious werewolf. You were his friend, weren't you? Helped him brew his potion, and learned defensive magic from him. I'll bet he was especially nice to you, being one of Potter's best mates.”

With every syllable uttered by the Regent of London, Severus' expression became easier to read. The shame and self-loathing she had witnessed that night in Vasiliy's house surfaced, and his hands were trembling against his thighs. At that moment, the former Death Eater, former professor, former spy, was simply a broken man who had nothing to tend but his terrifying and horrific memories.

Malfoy continued, enjoying the torment he was inflicting upon his former fellow Death Eater. “I would say you miss them all terribly, your friends. Your dead friends. I wonder if you think of them every day, if you have branded their names into your mind and wish that they could comfort you.”

As he spoke, accusing thoughts came flooding into her mind. Severus had killed Remus Lupin. She had watched him do it. After that incident, the entire Order had been hunted down and slaughtered, mostly in horrible, painful, and Unforgivable ways. Without Severus, the Order could have stopped this whole war. Without him, Hogwarts would still be a hallowed place of learning, and Albus Dumbledore would still be its headmaster, and Remus Lupin would still be alive. Percy Weasley and his school sweetheart Penny Clearwater could still be together. Hermione Granger would still exist, and would have some future still ahead of her.

A tiny, persistant voice interrupted everything. All of her doubts suddenly had a rebuttal. The Order had been losing the war as it was. Severus did not change that. Dumbledore's death was inevitable; Voldemort was actively trying to kill him. Severus could no more save Dumbledore's life than stop the Earth from spinning. Penny Clearwater was killed by Death Eaters long before Bellatrix Lestrange raped Severus' mind. Yes, Severus Snape had done awful things-but who had not, this far into the war? Hermione herself had cast Unforgivables and had even taken pleasure and comfort from those spells. Was what Severus had done really any worse than what anyone had done to survive and fight the rule of Tom Riddle? Had he not suffered as much, if not more, than anyone else on the losing side?

The talking had stopped. Malfoy and Hermione both were now watching Severus, who was shaking like an aspen leaf. A streak of tears marred his ashen cheeks, and he started to babble like he had that night. “It's my fault, my fault. They're all dead, and it's my fault.”

Malfoy began to circle him like a cat toying with its prey. “Yes, Severus. It is your fault. And you shall be made to suffer for it.”

“Gods, I killed them. I should have died instead of them.” A sob wracked his shoulders, heaving his chest underneath the uniform of his former life.

Hermione could not bear to watch this any longer. What did it matter now? Who was there to judge her for this? “Severus,” she said firmly. He did not turn his head towards her, so she said again, more gently, “Severus.”

He glanced at her, his eyes full of agony, and she took a deep breath. “Severus, I forgive you.” The startled look she received in return from both men spurred her to repeat herself. “Severus, whatever you have done, it is done. Nothing can change that. But I forgive you.”

Those were the words Severus Snape had been waiting for. Two imperceptibly quiet words slipped from his lips. “Thank you.”

The terror that had been the Potions Master of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry returned within the blink of an eye. The beautifully carved Gregorovich wand suddenly appeared in his hand, and Malfoy could only stumble back before Severus spat, “Stupefy!”

Malfoy barely managed to dodge the spell, which cast the room in a red glow for a split second. He was a practised dueller, though, and regained his composure instantly once his hand gripped his wand. The two men stared at each other, like strange and scared dogs meeting for the first time. The energy crackling in the room made the hairs on the back of Hermione's neck stand erect; she was now sorely wishing she was not tied to a chair in the midst of a wizard's duel.

“Well, now, Severus, that was awfully rude of you. Duels are supposed to have rules in civilized company,” Malfoy said, shaking his head in disappointment.

“You know what I have to say to your civilization, Lucius?” Severus retorted in the silky, menacing voice that Hermione remembered from her childhood. “Fuck it.” He stabbed his wand into the air and cried, “Sectumsempra!”

Malfoy anticipated his attack and launched a Shield Charm and a nasty slicing hex in rapid succession. Spells flew back and forth between the two wizards, most of them Dark and some of them very unfamiliar to even Hermione. Worried she might be forgotten in their fight, she used her weight to slide the chair further away from them, towards the far wall. The chair moved quite nicely along the floor until one of the back legs caught the lip of a cobblestone, and she fell sideways. Luckily, she managed to not hit her head or slice open her forehead on the stones. She was, however, tied to a chair and unable to help herself amid a wizarding duel. “Goddamnit,” she muttered.

A muffled thud abruptly brought an end to the wild spellcasting. Hermione twisted in her bonds to see what had happened, but all she could hear was Malfoy chuckling to himself. “Sleep while you can, Severus,” he murmured menacingly. Every muscle in her body tensed as she heard bootsteps near her head. Her eyes moved to check the space above her, and she found Lucius Malfoy standing over her with a self-satisfied smugness.

“Now we have a few more moments to ourselves, Mudblood,” he purred. He pointed his wand at her and righted the chair in a rather stomach-wrenching movement. Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione could see Severus' form crumpled on the floor, quiet but moving just enough to reassure her that he was still breathing.

“Fuck you, Malfoy,” she spat.

His eyes widened and he brought his face close to hers. A powerful aroma surrounded him-sweat from the duel and rage at her insolence. He opened his mouth to reply to her insult, but he was interrupted by the sound of the door swinging open and shut. “I left instructions to be left undisturbed,” he hissed without turning around to identify the newcomer.

“You would presume to leave instructions to me, Malfoy?” Ginny Weasley stood a few feet inside the room, her arms crossed into her teaching robes and her expression haughty. She made no indication of recognizing or acknowledging Hermione or Severus; her cold brown eyes were trained solely on the blond Death Eater.

And then Hermione saw something she never expected to see in her lifetime.

Malfoy stepped away from the chair, placed his wand hand over his heart and bowed to the youngest Weasley. “My lady,” he said smoothly. His words were tinged with healthy dose of respect. “I did not realize you knew I was here tonight.”

“When will you learn, Malfoy, that I know the goings-on of Hogwarts better than the headmaster himself? I know things that you will never know, and know things that you would wish I didn't.” Ginny slowly walked towards them, and finally flicked her gaze over Hermione. “Hello, Hermione. My apologies. Colonel Graving acted as he should have, but Regent Malfoy here acted without consulting me.”

Another bow to shock Hermione. “My sincerest regrets. No slight was meant. I have been hasty in my wait for my assistant.” He let the slightest turn of his head betray his veneer of courtesy. “You know this Mudblood?”

“Your talent for stating the obvious is amazing, Malfoy. Of course I know Hermione. We were friends in school. I should wonder why a friend of Ginevra Weasley is being treated like a prisoner.”

“With all due respect, my lady, she is a Mudblood, an Impure II and a wanted war criminal. She is a member of the Order of the Phoenix. Surely the Dark Lord-“

Ginny cut him off with a dismissive wave. “Do not presume to tell me what Tom would want.”

Malfoy flinched as she called Voldemort by his real name, and Hermione could not bite her tongue fast enough. “Why do you call him that, Ginny?” she whispered. As soon as she said it, she was certain she did not want the answer.

Ginny glanced at Malfoy, who looked decidedly uncomfortable, and said, “Why don't you explain it to her, Malfoy, seeing as how you always seem so interested in me?”

“I don't think-“

“No,” she snapped, “you don't think. Do as I tell you, Regent. Explain to her why I refer to the Dark Lord by his given name.” The power she held in her voice was terrifying. A chill ran up Hermione's spine, and she could not control the shaking in her hands.

Not even Malfoy offered insolence in the terrible face of Ginny Weasley. “My lady is the Dark Lord's mistress. She is the highest among his servants and commands us with the same authority held by the Dark Lord.”

With a little smile that held no mirth, Ginny produced her wand and pulled up the sleeve of her robe. “That's right, Malfoy. To question me is to question Tom himself. I can bring you up, or I can put you down. I can Summon you to do my bidding.” She pressed the tip of her wand to the skin of her forearm, and the writhing tattoo of the Dark Mark appeared instantly. Malfoy inhaled sharply and clutched his own Dark Mark, swathed in the black wool of his uniform.

“Oh, Ginny,” Hermione murmured. “No.”

Instantly, Ginny forgot toying with Malfoy and focused her razor-sharp attention on Hermione. “Do not judge me, Hermione. You have no idea what Dumbledore put me through in the name of goodness and freedom. The old man was a fool, and I hate him for what he did to me.”

Her tirade was cut off by a deep, painful moaning emanating from Severus on the cold floor. Malfoy turned to ensure he was still incapacitated, and Ginny threw a powerful “Stupefy!” towards him. The Regent collapsed in a gangly heap, and the auburn-haired professor sent a few other silent spells towards him.

Hermione exhaled in relief and was about to thank Ginny when another unexpected voice chimed in, “What the hell is going on in here?”

Ginny whirled, wand at the ready, to face the newcomer. In a single heartbeat, shock overtook her, and the slender piece of wood tumbled to the floor.

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Author's Notes:
1. Hopefully I won't have to fix the formatting this time...
2. Here's a lovely cliffhanger for you...only a few more chapters left!