"The boys were spotted near the old Black estate a few hours ago, our brothers that we left to guard the area were found unconscious in an alley three doors down."

"What of the girl?"

"They did have a girl traveling with them, my Lord, we believe it to be the Lovegood girl."

"Where are they now?"

"Back on the run, it would seem. Though I do have my best snatchers on the case. They shall not fail you, my Lord."

"See that they don't."

oOo

Severus pursed his lips, his eyes never wavering as he watched the dreamless sleep potion start to take its hold. Watching and listening to her mind try and comprehend its power as she lost her battle against it.

So strong, so willing to fight against a force she didn't even begin to understand. An unwavering determination glowed in the corner of her eyes even as they started to fall closed.

She was everything he could never even begin to dream about becoming. So much fight, drive, and perseverance. It made him sick.

A smart flick of his wand removed the sheets and blanket all stained and in need of a wash. His eyes flicked to her face before removing the shirt that he'd placed on her. Her head turned to the other side, thankfully away from him, and her body adjusted slightly to the change in temperature.

His hands moved down removing the binds that held her in place, resistant to magic for medical reasons, he resented having to remove them by hand. Deciding to release her ankles first, he felt somewhat relieved when her legs started to curl up. The muscle underneath responding as it should.

Another flick over the wrappings revealed her marble colored flesh. Yellow and purple marks dotted the otherwise smooth skin, the dittany having done its duty over the harsh cuts.

He made a note to put some more bruise salve over the remaining marks, before moving up to pull her wrists free. Resting her opening and closing hands over her head for what he was dreading most.

Everything about the entire situation felt extremely wrong. He felt it down into the very core of his being. A student, in his bed, barely clothed and virtually drugged into unconsciousness. It ruffled more than a few feathers inside him.

A deep centering breath cleared his mind and he was able to place a full mask of indifference over his features. His eyes narrowed with his focus. It was wrong. More than wrong, completely immoral. His fingers twitched with his confliction before finally releasing the wrapping over her gently rising and falling chest.

He had to check, there was no other option. To leave her at the mercy of a curse would only prolong his long-term goal. His eyes narrowed further keeping his smoldering gaze right center of her chest. His wand parted the wrap effortlessly and the salve kept it mostly in place. He'd have to remove it eventually, he knew, but first concern first.

His fingers ghosted over the rather rough looking scar down her sternum. It was red and obviously irritated. The fire breath curse. A favorite of Dolohov. Turning every gasp for air into a burning inferno inside. It was normally fatal but her luck had sparred her, twice.

A few murmured detection spells confirmed that the spell was still inactive, though there appeared to be something else prolonging her healing process. Possibly the dark magic that flowed in her blood from the mark left behind on her arm.

oOo

Harry, Ron, and Luna had taken a small reprieve from their fruitless search to just let their minds go quiet. Ron was glaring at the far corner, mumbling under his breath the same mantra he'd been reaffirming at every turn.

Harry was trying to think of something, anything that he thought would aid them. Bellatrix seemed extremely upset about the sword not being in her vault. This line of thinking led him to wonder just what else the evil witch had hidden away. Problem was, without the sword Griphook had refused to help them any further.

Luna was thinking about her Dad. How lonely he must feel not knowing that she was okay. She felt torn between trying to help Harry and Ron and seeing her Dad. She found the two Gryffindor's company to be well enough but she really wished she could at least tell her Dad she was alright. She hadn't believed it to have been proper to ask while they were staying at Bill and Fleur's and was starting to regret not saying something about it.

Their pensive was suddenly broken by a noise from downstairs that turned all three of their heads. Instantly, all the lights they had lit were snuffed out and their wands at the ready.

Harry moved first lowering himself down near the open door trying to listen to anything else. Luna was behind him with Ron silently bringing up the rear. It was the same position they had often taken when they were with Hermione, though Luna was substantially smaller than the brunette her mind was just as sharp, even if no one seemed to believe that.

Harry made down the stairs first, Luna cast a cushioning charm on their feet just in case, and followed right behind. Ron kept an eye out for anyone who may come from behind, his body trembling with adrenaline. When Harry rounded the corner he felt the tension that had been building inside him drain away when he spotted the droopy ears of a house elf. It wasn't Kreacher, it looked young.

"Hello, what's your name?" Luna's voice made both boys jump. Luna, however, seemed not to notice as the small elf turned on its heel. It hastily placed down a package that it had in its hand before quickly popping out. Luna blinked at the odd behavior before looking to Harry, "Was it something I said?"

Harry just shook his head and moved over to the package left behind on the chair. He ran his wand over it before taking it into his hand. His brow furrowed as he read the writing over top, messy, like a child's writing, "To Mr. Potter?"

Luna made room for Ron to come closer, all the while running her eyes around the dark space, deciding to keep herself out of the way for the time being.

"Should we open it? Maybe it's from Hermione."

"This isn't Hermione's handwriting." Harry licked his lips but pulled the twine nonetheless. His brow furrowed as the cloth that had been protecting it fell away revealing a small, very ornately designed, hand mirror. He turned it in his palm confused when he didn't see his own reflection in the black glassed surface. "What is this?"

"It's a scryer's mirror," Luna said nonchalantly keeping to the edge of the room, letting her fingers run through the dust on the counter.

"A what?" Harry turned it into his palm before noticing a small scrap of paper fall out from the cloth but before he could reach down to retrieve it, Ron had already caught it in the air.

"'She's alive.'?" Ron showed Harry the bit of parchment. "What does that mean?"

"It means...someone's playing a game with us." Harry was about to toss the mirror aside when Luna came to join them. She pulled the mirror from the boy's hand.

"Show me, Hermione Granger." Luna tapped the mirror twice with her wand before an image started to form over the glass. The black faded away to gold and red.

"How did you-?"

"I told you, it's a scryer's mirror. I haven't seen one in many years, they're pretty rare these days. Here." She pushed the mirror back into his hand and turned his shoulders slowly. "It's sort of like, looking into a room that is around you but you can't see it."

The image in the mirror started to shift as Harry moved it around. The room that it was showing them was odd, a place he'd never seen before. Ron came to his shoulder watching the image shift. Finally, they turned in the proper direction and they could see a bed.

"There!" Harry paused and squinted trying to see.

"Walk forward." Luna was watching too, as curious as they were.

Harry took a cautious step, watching the bed grow closer. However, when he tripped over a chair, the image suddenly went out. "Damn it!"

"It's alright. Just call it again." Luna was worried but kept her cool pushing in the chair out of his way.

"Show me, Hermione Granger." Harry took a calming breath watching the image swirl back into shape. The small adjustment had brought them closer to the bed, so close in fact that all of them could make out her face clearly.

"Merlin's Beard..." Ron touched the rim unable to stop himself, "What happened to her?" It was a useless question, he knew exactly what had happened to her. How he had failed to protect her.

Hermione's face was turned towards them, her hair gently pulled back at the nape of her neck, a bandage covering her throat. A tube ran over her cheek up and out of sight of the mirror. By all accounts, she appeared to be peacefully sleeping.

Harry took a small step back and more of her body came into view. Her hands rested next to her head, her arms covered in a shirt that most certainly wasn't her own. Her wrists were bruised and red, fingers twitching slightly.

Harry felt a lump growing in his throat as he turned the mirror down. Her upper body was exposed, the shirt that had covered her arms was pulled back. Ron and Harry both turned red from the tips of their ears down to their necks while Luna merely hummed softly in the back of her throat.

Her ribs flexed with every fluttering breath, a deep dark yellow tainting the skin along the sides. Harry felt sick to his stomach at the sight. It felt wrong, she was their best friend. He shouldn't have been seeing her in such a state of undress. It was like peeking through a hole in the girl's locker room. Invasive and completely immoral.

Still, he pressed on, he needed to know she was truly safe. Swallowing down the growing unease, he continued to turn the mirror. Her black knickers, hovering over the hollow of her hips, met their eyes next.

Harry watched the muscles of her stomach twitch. The dark coloring around the edges made him worry that she may have endured too much. That he had led her to a most painful and irreversible situation. Her screams still echoed through his mind during every moment of silence, every pregnant pause, every time he closed his eyes to rest. He had done this to her, he was responsible.

Ron was seething inside, this whoever, was no doubt touching her in places he had only dreamed of touching. Her wounds looked more severe than his own, though his back still hurt, it had been a rather easy fix for his brother.

Just the sight of her helpless against some unknown hand made his stomach roil and how heart pound with rage. Had another deatheater found her? Were they still torturing her? Her arms had looked as though she'd been restrained.

Harry paused when he saw a hand come into view and tried to jerk the mirror up. Though just as last time, the sharp movement caused the image to disappear.

"Harry!" Ron snatched the mirror from his grip about to recast the spell.

"Wait!" Luna grabbed his wrist, "Look!" She pointed to a stone that had steadily moved from the top down to the bottom of the mirror, "The magic of the mirror is almost gone, you can't cast it again."

"What?" Ron turned the mirror looking at the back of it. A large tree decorated the back, with rubies that stood in like apples over the limbs.

"The magic is powerful, but it comes at a cost...you have to wait until all of the rubies reach the outer ring again..."

"Does the magic ever run out?" Harry swallowed carefully.

"It can...but, it would take a lot..." Luna gave Ron a sympathetic look, "Just...give it some time..." She looked between the two of them, "Do either of you recognize that place?"

"No..."

"No..."

oOo

Snape was doing his best to remain focused, he could feel the press of an outside force against his wards. No doubt Dumbledore hadn't waited for him to send the mirror and had made the executive decision himself.

His jaw twitched as he pulled her shirt closed at her breasts. He only hoped he managed to save her dignity in time. As it was, he was finished with the area, deciding to leave her brassiere in her discarded clothes, for now, he made to finish putting more salve over her remaining bruises along her stomach and ribs.

A quick glance at the potion drip confirmed that she was sure to be waking soon. He had only given her enough to keep her out while he worked, but he needed her awake to assess her mental acuity. He wiped his hands on a towel before gently pushing her more onto her side.

The girl grunted softly and adjusted to the position before curling up even more into a ball. There was a very definite boot print along the side of her back, he wasn't sure how he'd missed it.

He placed his hand beside the outline before pressing in gently with his thumb. Granger groaned softly and arched away from his hand curling her arms tighter around her chest.

Her reaction to his touch thus far had been mixed. It had startled him greatly when she had arched up into his hand when he was placing the salve down her sternum. He was hard-pressed not to dwell on the feeling of her breast grazing against the heel of his palm.

How long had it been? How many decades had passed without so much as the feel of another so much as taking his hand? Someone to look upon him with true kindness and understanding? Instead of pity?

His heart had grown cold in that time, he had been so sure he had risen completely above the want of another's touch. To feel their warmth pressed against him.

His eyes closed for a moment, his hand going still at the base of her spine. It wasn't in his wont to want such things, but even as he worked, he could feel something growing inside his chest.

It took him mere seconds to vanish away the feeling. Pushing it, most unwillingly, down into the darkest recesses of his humanity. When his eyes opened again he felt the entire world crash down around him.

She had woken and she was looking straight into his soul.

Snape jerked back his hand as if scolded. His nostrils flared with contempt at being observed in such a weakened state. An acidic comment came to the tip of his tongue but the whippish comment never made it. It was brought to an abrupt halt by her hand taking his.

His eyes snapped down to the frail fingers clinging so gently to his middle two fingers. Granger shifted from her side to her back, turning her head to face him. She pulled his unresponsive hand closer, resting it on her stomach. Her eyes watching his confliction.

Snape blinked at her unusual behavior before he felt the faintest of vibrations under his fingertips. His head turned down looking at where she held him in place before he was able to formulate proper speech.

"You're hungry." It wasn't a question rather a statement of fact. Her hips rolled up as if to affirm his statement before her hand finally released him.

Hermione smiled ever so faintly; her body was floating. Gently swaying on an unseen wave. She didn't feel an ounce of pain, rather, a deep warmth she had never felt before. Her mind was slowly coming back into focus.

Her most recent memory paradoxically brought her comfort to her present predicament. This man, the man in black, meant her no harm. It was clear now, but still, she could not recall his name. She wanted to know, she needed to give a name to her evident savior.

When his eyes met hers again she tried to press her thoughts towards him. He had spoken to her before that way, she was sure he could hear her.

Who are you?

Snape pursed his lips tightly, a scowl like none had ever seen before fell over his face. He could easily hear her tortured screams echoing inside her mind. Her inner eye rounding on all those present during her torture, trying to name them. He could feel the locks inside her turning.

"You may simply call me sir or Professor." He suspected the later wouldn't pass her lips clearly for some time. The damage to her voice had been more severe than he originally had believed. It would take time to acquire the ingredients necessary for him to brew the proper potion. In the meantime, she'd have to work them the natural way. As much as he loathed to admit it.

What's...my name?

"Your name is, Hermione Granger."