"Had enough 'bright' ideas, mudblood?"

Hermione didn't need to see him to see the smirk on his face though Severus' memory of the man did provide. Her past-self coughed and gasped for air as her body was held halfway up out of a freezing cold river where they'd just dunked her under for a fifth time.

"Why we even keeping this filth around Marx? No one's gonna buy her." The man on her right twisted her arm up higher forcing her body to swallow down the water she'd been trying to spit out. Somewhere off to the right, light sniffling of scared children could be heard.

"She's still a good fuck. Someone will pay enough for that, now shut up. Besides, I think a valuable lesson can be learned here."

Hermione whimpered as she was half-dragged out of the water. The stones in the bank digging into the open wounds on her legs. She'd tried to run again, this time she'd made it pretty far before getting turned around. They'd nearly taken off her legs with the chain that had brought her to the ground before dragging her mercilessly back to the camp. Her entire body felt as though it were on fire.

"Yeah wouldn't know, would we?" The man's under breath comment had gone unheard by the man in charge but it still made her stomach roll.

She could hear a small commotion somewhere up ahead before the men that held her wrenched her up to her uncoordinated feet. They walked slowly, each man's grip so tight it nearly took off her waterlogged skin. She tried her best to stay quiet but it was an impossible task.

When they did finally release her she fell face first into the fine dirt that she knew surrounded the area where others were being kept. She could hear their stifled whimpers and whispering prayers. She could feel the heat of the campfire, always just out of reach and it took every ounce of strength she had left not to crawl inside its warmth.

"Mudbloods are just like the beasts in this forest. All they need is a good master to remind them of their place in this world. Good training, to make them useful to their better halves. It just takes the right whip to bring down the dragon."

There was a heavy silence before the heavy clang of chain filled her world. The darkness of the memory flashed with the possible location. She hadn't seen of course, so the memory was just as black as ever with her memory of what she must have looked like taking center stage.

The first blow knocked her even further into the ground, all of the meager air she'd managed to take in leaving her chest in one fell swoop. The sound of laughter mixed in with sorrow as the chain came down again this time over the backs over her knees.

Dirt filled her lungs as she tried to cry out. Her hands reaching blindly to try and stop the next blow. The chain wrapped around her forearm and she tried to take hold of it before it was harshly ripped free.

"You still wanna fight this? Huh?" Marxon's voice dripped with male ego.

Hermione let out a sharp cry as the back of his hand cut across her cheek sending the entire memory dark. When it would come to again, her inner visage was being held aloft by her hair as blood poured from her parted lips.

"I'm gonna teach you your place in this world." His voice was low and deep against her ear, sending shivers down her spine.

The hand that held her hair left and her body crumpled back into the soft Earth. When Marxon's hands took hold of her hip the only thing clearly seen in the memory was his hands. She pushed weakly against him as he rolled her onto her back. She could still feel the other two standing nearby, no doubt waiting for further instructions. A sharp backhand to her cheek sent her world spiraling once again, and for a moment, the memory went still. Then a sharp scream of pure agony rocked the entire space.

The world flashed and Hermione's self-imagining reappeared, her jeans and underwear down at her knees while a heavy chain wrapped over her hip into the sadistic man's hand.

"The right whip boys, " A small pull raised Hermione's hips instantly and her fingers that desperately wanted to claw the man's face dug deep into the Earth below, "Tie her to the post, no food or water, three days."

"Marxon."

"What?"

"Got someone here who might be interested in buying the mudblood."

"Yeah, how much coin he got?"

"Says he's willing to make a trade."

"Yeah? For what?"

"Something you've been after."

"Excellent."

Hands came again pulling her weakened form up onto her knees, soft dragging sounds accompanied by the clanking of chain echoed in the void. As the world went still a new voice came into the mix.

"Do you know who you've got there?"

"Another useless mudblood." The sound of the chain falling into the dirt elicited a sharp cry but no one around seemed to take any notice.

"Not just any mudblood, that's a special one."

"Yeah? And I'm guessing you've got the coin to make me believe you?"

"Something better."

The voices faded in and out as Hermione's struggle to remain concious. A pulsing pain unlike any other was starting to turn the encompassing blackness red.

The memory started to become too distorted by pain to be of anymore use. As Severus pulled his hands back, a thought circled inside his mind. She had kept fighting, even though the odds were clearly against her; despite everything crashing down around her, her will—her desire to live, to fight, carried on.

When small hands took his waist he found no hesitation in holding her. His fingers gently wove into the back of her hair in a slow soothing rhythm. He could connect the dots himself. It didn't take a genius to know who had come to buy her and to what they had used as payment.

"You are not an animal." He didn't know why but the words needed to be said. When his eyes turned down into her face he could feel her confliction, "Who are you?"

"I'm..." Hermione took in a slow breath, resting her head back into his palm, " Hermione Granger... former student of Hogwarts... I'm... powerful and strong..."

Severus nodded and let her rest her head into his chest. Neverminding her fingers slipping into his coat for a better hold. That had answered two of his questions but there were still so many others.

"Come...we should eat."

Hermione nodded but didn't move until his hand came up under her shoulder to lift her from the stool. Though she wished he would carry her, she hadn't forgotten the sight of his injuries. Her legs trembled with the fear and conditioning that had followed that day but she pushed through to stay at his side.

Her free hand opened and closed as they walked and it wasn't long before she was sat down with her stuffed cat taking his place. A small thank you curled her legs up into the chair, where she rested her chin on her knees to stare into the fireplace.

oOo

Harry growled low in his throat, pulling at his hair near his temples. He was so angry. A feeling that had just compounded endlessly since they'd found the locket. His eyes burned for rest but his mind just would not let him. His hand throbbed from the punch that had ended his fight with Ron. Something he felt should have made him feel remorseful only filled him with a sort of twisted happiness.

It was as though he were losing himself. But why? How?

He growled low in his throat before he turned another page in Hermione's journal. Something he had attempted to read countless times but had always been left at a loss. It was like someone else was controlling him. His thoughts, his actions. He knew the feeling was familiar he just couldn't figure out why.

Harry turned the page in the journal turning his eyes down to the page listing the horcruxes. He'd never really looked too closely before, his head having always pounded when he tried to take in the information but now, with Ron gone, he had no other choice. He was alone and he had to do this, alone.

oOOo

Hermione rolled her head along the back of the chair, her head hurt from what she couldn't be sure, but it was becoming harder to ignore. Snape had gone after their shared meal, a meal taken in reverent silence. She'd become sleepy afterward and she almost wondered if he'd slipped her something.

Something soft brushed under her chin and it took her a moment to register a light humming sound before she managed to open her eyes. The cat from before was just under her chin, gently rubbing their soft ears along her jaw. Their heat and weight brought her comfort but it wasn't whom she truly wanted. That aside, she lifted her sleep-heavy hand nonetheless and gave the grey and black cat a gentle scratch behind the ears.

As her eyes adjusted to the dim light of evening the overwhelming silence of solitude began to creep in and Hermione found herself uncurling her stiff legs from the chair. It felt late and the stars that she could see through the tall window confirmed her suspicions. The cat that had relocated herself on the arm of the chair let out a soft meow, causing her to jump at the sudden disturbance.

With a grimacing smile, she petted the cat's head once more before coming fully to her feet. A slow examination of the room turned her attention towards the small light coming from the cracked door that led into the small potions lab. Her feet carried her as though in a trance and she pushed open the door.

He wasn't there, but her eyes did snap to the table where the soft light was coming from. Her brows furrowed as she moved closer, unaware of the cat moving alongside her. The light was coming from a small silver cauldron. An eerie whitish blue light coming up from the liquid within.

As she leaned closer, her natural curiosity mixed with her fear. A slow shaky breath brought her head over the small bowl and what looked back at her nearly made her mind turn on its end.

A child's soft laughter filled the otherwise silent room, bright brown curls bounced in the sun as the child ran through a tall field of wildflowers. Another voice, so familiar so deeply engrained filled her soul as an older woman's face, similar to the child's own came into the center of the swirling waters. It was only when her own name came through the bright liquid did she understand just what and who she must have been seeing.

Memories, like the ones the Professor had been searching through. They were memories. Happy ones. They hurt. They hurt more than she could even fathom. Like she was looking into a part of her soul that had been ripped away from her. More bright faces swirled through, growing older. As if reacting to her presence. They played in small pieces, snapshots of a different life. A happy life. A life filled with love.

How did they get there? Were they truly hers? Or someone else's? She wanted to see more, she wanted to feel the happiness they held within. Yet fear gripped her heart, holding her captive in the world she had come to know. A world that was safe, so long as she followed the rules. Punishment came to those who didn't follow the rules. Reward to those who did as they were told.

Yet despite this, she could feel the remains of her soul calling out to the world inside. Her hand rose, though just as she was about to touch the surface the cat came from nowhere, startling her from her trance-like state, sending the entire cauldron toppling over onto its side. The blue liquid spilled down over the table, a cold mist rising up as it spread out over the surface, the large majority of it landing over her chest and stomach before her entire world went black.

oOo

Severus stood tall behind the three students 'lucky' enough to be chosen to stand before the Dark Lord. He hadn't forgotten, despite all that had happened that day. He knew that his timeline had been short from the beginning. With everything else compiling he had to act while he'd had the time. The potion he'd slipped Granger should have kept her asleep while he was meant to be away. Though he hadn't measured.

"Ah, Severus." Voldemort grinned slowly as he made his grand entrance into the borrowed drawing room at Malfoy Manor. It was dramatic by anyone's definition but to him, it was a test to see if those that had been brought before him were worthy of the honor of being in his presence.

"My Lord." Severus inclined his head, watching the children whom he'd brought with him try and conceal their fear as best as they could.

"You bring me only the best?"

"As you requested, My Lord."

Voldemort let out a low chuckle as he took a sauntering step closer. The children before him were young, easily moldable. Perfect for his purposes. His deep red eyes took them in slowly, easily evaluating their uses in seconds. They would make perfect cannon fodder for his more powerful soldiers. Yes, they would suit him well enough.

"You have done well, leave us. Lucius shall see to their return. Tomorrow is, a school day, is it not?"

"Yes, My Lord." Severus could feel the unease creeping up the back of his throat, but there was nothing he could do. Nothing more could be done to protect the innocent lives before him.

"Excellent."

Severus inclined his head slowly, he could actually see the Parkinson girl beginning to tremble and wondered just how many would be returning in the morn. He had chosen only those who had been of age, those blinded by their ignorance. A poor attempt to ease his guilty conscious, bringing those who believed themselves worthy before a man who would strip them of their very humanity. He could still remember trying to scrub the blood from his hands the day after his own initiation. It took months.

oOo

"Miss Granger? Hermione? Please? Oh, Merlin..." Minerva trembled as she held the limp form of her former student in her arms. Hermione's head laid over her forearm, eyes swirling with white under their partially opened lids.

Minerva hadn't even known what had truly happened. One moment she'd jumped up onto the table, the next moment everything inside the room had gone blindingly white. When she'd finally been able to see again. She'd seen Miss Granger collapsed on the floor. Her eyes still and her chest seemingly unmoving.

It hadn't been until she'd tranformed, in a partial panic, and quickly pulled the young woman from the floor had she felt her slow breaths. While that had stilled one fear, it had only created others. She was no potion's master but she'd seen enough pensives in her time. Though she had never seen one like this, she could only rely on her critical thinking skills.

"Hermione?" Minerva's hand trembled against her cheek as nothing seemed to rouse her. Her body was heavy, heavier than she believed possible. She was afraid to move her, having missed her initial collapse.

Her heart raced as she tried to think of what to do. Severus had gone, there was no one who even knew of the girl's existence. She needed help, the only man who was in the position to do so was knealing before their enemy. There was nothing she could do. For once in her life, she felt truly helpless.