The Things We Do For Love

THE THINGS WE DO FOR LOVE
CHAPTER 1

It was a sharp burning sensation in her left forearm that brought Hermione back to the conscious state at 4:30 AM Saturday morning. As the pain increased to a searing heat, she was forced to bite her lower lip to keep from crying out in her agony.

He wanted her, and he wasn't taking no for an answer.

Hermione vacated the warmth of her four poster bed, suppressing the urge to groan. Deafly, she dressed for another famous Death Eater infiltration. As she did so, she noticed Lavender Brown and the rest of the seventh year girls, all sound asleep. She envied them, but God knew she'd never admit it.

Stealthily, she made her way out of the girls' dormitories, through the Gryffindor common room, and out the portrait hole. She moved so smoothly and quietly that she had no use for an invisibility cloak; she was pretty much used to sneaking around in dark passages by know.

The pain of her Dark Mark was increasing with every step, but Hermione had long since learned to deal with it. She quickened her pace out of the Hogwarts castle and towards Hogsmeade, where she would apparate to see whom it was he wanted dead this time.

Normally, students weren't allowed to apparate. One had to be out of school and to have passed the necessary tests as well, but they made an exception for Hermione Granger. How else was she going to be able to go to the Dark Lord when called and then report back to the Ministry after she finished whatever was necessary?

Hermione was allowed to do many things others her age could not, that was an advantage to being a spy for the Ministry. But unfortunately, along with the very few advantages came many disadvantages.

There were the countless nightmares, sleepless nights, tormented thoughts, web of lies, the pain of the Cruciatus Curse, moral anguish, and on and on it went. But the worst for Hermione were the murders. She hated killing Muggles for the high and mighty Dark Lord, but what choice did she really have? None, of course.

She had volunteered her summer after her sixth year to the Ministry of Magic. That summer forever changed her life. It was that summer that Hermione had discovered she had apt skills for undercover infiltrations, and it was that summer that she found her own way of protecting her friends, her family.

Hermione went through a two month course of vigorous training, and, unsurprisingly, succeeded beyond belief. She had mastered all the Unforgivable Curses: she could resist the Imperius curse, withstand the Cruciatus Curse, and could easily wield the killing curse, all of which made her the perfect candidate for the job. But it was a tough job, not exactly a field day in the force.

She quickened her pace as the cold wind blew harshly across her face. He didn't like to be kept waiting.

Faster and faster she walked, lost within her thoughts, so lost that she did not notice the cloaked figure before her; at least not until she slammed into it.

Out of reflex, Hermione reached for her wand to attack, but froze as her eyes focused on the face before her, mirroring the same look of shock. She relaxed visibly, sighed tiredly, and lowered her hand back down to her side.

"Hello, Severus," she acknowledged in a relieved tone, reassured with the fact that she did not have to kill someone to cover her tracks.

A tight, yet genuine smile came over Snape. "Hermione." He gave a curt nod in greeting.

A very similar smile came over Hermione, complete with yet another relieved sigh. Together they walked the rest of the way to Hogsmeade in a knowing silence. Of course, they didn't have to talk to communicate their understanding. Snape knew very well that Hermione was going to apparate to the Dark Lord to do his bidding and most likely kill some unsuspecting Muggle family as they slept. Hermione, likewise, knew that Severus was most likely going to the Dark Lord to create some sort of Muggle killing potion, being the accomplished Potions Master he was.

These actions, however, were not of their own accord. They did evil's bidding, not because they supported him; it was quite the contrary, really. They served the Dark Lord as a means to serve the Ministry, as a means to uncover further plots involving a certain Boy-Who-Lived, and much to the Dark Lord's dismay, continues to live. They were both spies, therefore they were both allies, united against a common enemy.

"Hermione."

She did not respond.

"Hermione," came Severus' voice, a little more persistent.

Again, silence greeted him.

"Lily."

It was then that Hermione glanced at him and he smiled at her kindly.

"Thought you might answer to that," he stated.

Hermione gave him a small smile. Hermione, once deciding to go undercover as a Death Eater, couldn't very well use her own name. It was closely linked to Harry's ever since Skeeter's love triangle articles in her fourth year. And she was a spy, after all, and spies never went undercover as themselves.

She might as well have walked up to the Dark Lord and said, "HI! My name is Hermione Granger and I'm a mudblood so kill me!"

She wasn't Hermione Granger to them or to herself any longer. Hermione created a new identity for herself, Lily Evans.

She had chosen Harry's mother's name for a few obvious reasons.

First off, she decided to become a 'Lily' because she had the greatest respect for the real Lily. The real Lily had given her life and save not only her infant son, whom now meant more than anything to Hermione, but many innocents. It was with her death the Harry was protected, her death that saved them all.

And then she adopted Lily's maiden name 'Evans' for it was commonly used in the wizarding world and just so happened to be linked to the Slytherin name, and that was pure gold where she was going.

She could recall, as clear as the night's sky, her first meeting with her new master...

"What is your name?" came his cold, harsh voice.

She did not show fear, for fear was a weakness. "Lily Evans," she proclaimed with confidence she did not feel.

"Lily...Lily..." He said the name softly over and over again, as if savoring the taste. "I knew a Lily once."

There was no doubt of whom he was referring to.

He began to talk again, all softness gone now. "I also knew an Evans. Your family name holds much malice to it, yet it commands fear and respect, both rightfully deserved. Who do you serve, Lily Evans?"

"You, my Lord," she answered firmly without hesitation.

He sneered his satisfaction and then proceeded to put the Cruciatus Curse on her.

She had screamed out in her pain, cried in her misery, but she did not beg for mercy, did not plead with him to stop. She gave him no excuse to continue, therefore he had stopped.

The Dark Lord was both satisfied and displeased with her lack of pleading. He wanted an excuse to continue his torment and she gave him none; therefore, he was displeased, and yet he was immensely satisfied with his new follower.

Evil had gained a very young, yet very strong and devoted follower in Lily Evans. The Ministry gained another insider whom willingly betrayed the Dark Lord in Lily Evans. Lily Evans grew increasingly crucial on both sides of the war, while Hermione Granger faded in the background, until she no longer existed.

Lily was all that was left. Lily, the evil, cynical Death Eater that easily killed innocent Muggles and then turned around and aided the Ministry in the downfall of the very one she killed for.

A small laugh escaped her lips; Lily loved irony, and her current situation was nothing if not ironic.

"What was it you needed, Severus?" she asked, slipping out of her sordid past and back into her wretched present.

He sighed, allowing his own tormented thoughts to fall away. Snape looked down at the small girl to his right, who he thought of fondly, almost as a daughter, though he'd never willingly admit it. She looked normal and carefree, but such were the traits of her superb acting skills. He knew more than most that looks could be deceiving. He met her eyes and saw the truth. Those eyes were haunted with the harsh realities of war that made her look older than her seventeen years.

"We are here," he answered with finality.

Hermione came to a sudden stop, glanced at the all too familiar surroundings and sighed, "Yes, so we are."

There was a moment of charged silence and then they both apparated to their doom.

Every part of Hermione screamed at her in ache. She had just apparated to a quiet Muggle town after being subjected, more than once, to the Cruciatus Curse. Stubbornly, she refused to take her time, to slowly proceed to the house with dark blue shutters. Instead, she took long, purposeful strides to her destination.

She came to a jarring stop in front of the white picket fence; this house was so much like hers. Before such ideas could dissuade her from her mission, she raced up the walkway despite her aching pains.

With a softly whispered, "Alohomora," the door clicked open.

She easily found the room she was looking for, which was occupied by a harmless Muggle couple. They were sleeping peacefully, unaware of their impending deaths. She stood rooted to the floor by the foot of the bed watching them for a moment forever suspended in time. Guilt and sympathy gripped her hard, a rising lump forming in her throat.

"I'm sorry," Hermione whispered to the sleeping forms, knowing that they could not hear her, but not seeming to care.

The man stirred in his sleep, but did not awaken.

A terrible, cold indifference locked Hermione away, deep inside where her heart should be, as Lily proclaimed in a firm voice, "Avada Kedavra."

Green light illuminated the room, drawing on the darkness. In a matter of seconds, man and wife were dead, never having awakened from their peaceful slumber, never awakening again.

It wasn't a terrible way to die in the overall scheme of things, perhaps. Hermione could hope they still slept, still were safe in their dreams, but Lily knew that they'd never dream again.

Small tears stained her face as she turned and briskly walked out of the house. After all the times she'd killed, one would think she'd be used to it, but every time was like the first for her. She wasn't sure if that was a blessing or a punishment.

There was only one more thing left to do, and then she could leave the scene of the crime. She tilted her face up to the sky. It was the darkest part of the night, the few short moments before dawn. Hermione pointed her wand into the air and the Dark Mark presented itself proudly, looming above her, mocking all that Hermione had believed in once, a long time ago it now seemed.

She stood out there in the dark cold, glaring dumbfoundedly into the sinister mark of evil that silently mocked her being.

Quite suddenly, she apparated back to Hogsmeade and began her walk back to Hogwarts castle, numb and devoid of all human emotions. Although Hermione was tired to the bottom of her soul she knew it was going to be another sleepless night, but for different reasons than she had thought...

Hermione was greeted by her two best friends as she re-entered the Gryffindor common room.

"Hermione! There you are, we were about to leave without you. Where have you been?" a concerned Harry questioned with a frown of worry.

Harry had taken a quick glance at Hermione as she had walked through the portrait hole and instantly knew something was wrong. She seemed dazed and weighted down, while dirt stained her ashen cheeks, as if she had been crying. In fact, Harry had seen her in this state many times before throughout the year. He hadn't noticed until a few nights ago at dinner, however.

It had been and unusually quiety dinner at their table. Hermione had kept fazing in and out of the conversation, as she had been doing the nights before. Then, he had asked her to pass the salt, which was when he had realized something was wrong.

Their eyes locked magnetically and he had glimpsed, for the first time, the truth. He had seen the emotions, the conflicts and hardships in her eyes, he could see the pain, guilt, sorrow, tiredness and the worst of them all, love. He had seen the emotions, the conflicts and hardships in her eyes; he could see the pain, guilt, sorrow, tiredness, and, worst of all, love. He could see the love she had for him in her eyes, yet she obviously did not love him enough to confide in him, and that was what hurt him the most, making him feel stupidly indignant.

Didn't she trust him? Why was she keeping things from him, her best friend? Why did she not trust him?

As quickly as all these emotions swamped Harry from her direct gaze, they quickly disappeared, leaving the cold, calculated smile. Hermione only smiled in name, the warmth never reaching her eyes.

It was then that he finally realized how strained her expression was and as he looked gently at her now, he could tell she wore the same phony smile.

"Did you fall asleep in the library *again*?" Ron asked dubiously.

Rather reluctantly, Hermione tore her eyes away from Harry to give Ron a stern, reprimanding look as she silently cursed her own stupidity at forgetting that they were going to Hogsmeade early that day.

Smile still in place, Hermione only said, "Give me a few quick moments to change and then we can leave." Not waiting for a response, she turned and went to her dormitory.

Harry watched in a state of bemusement as she left, noting how she had tactfully avoided answering his question of where she had been. Something was definitely wrong with Hermione, had been wrong since the beginning of the year. He could see it clear as day now.

He wanted her to confide in him and, more than that, he wanted to banish the ghosts that seemed to haunt her eyes.

Harry's mission was clear. He would discover what tormented Hermione, and he was now sure something was terribly wrong with her. All of her phony smiles and fake laughs could not hide the plain and simple truth, no matter how good of an actress she thought she was.