Abyss

Chapter 18

She was brought back by the Order, Lupin providing her with the sincere security that had been so lacking before. Her head nestled in the hollow beneath his shoulder, and she could close her eyes and be safe. There was going to be no more bruises and ghosts of bruises and broken bones. No more hands over her body, slick with sweat, the disgust in her belly roiling against the unnaturalness of her situation. No more pets and praise for her little betrayals. Just the safety of the life she had known.

She shivered with the sensation of double Apparation, but the sight of Hogwarts on the other side of the entrance gates spread warmth to the tips of her fingers and toes. They hurried up the hill. Hermione wanted to help. She would have been fine running with them without being a burden. But Lupin told her to rest, he would take care of everything. She needed to be examined before they would be comfortable with her walking and doing magic.

The prospect of doing magic made her grin, the memory of the heady magic flowing from her hand into a wand. Did they have her wand? She could always buy another. She did not know where she was going to get the Galleons, but she would worry about that later.

Professor Dumbledore was waiting for their arrival at the open doors of Hogwarts. His eyes twinkled merrily and he beckoned them in.

"Madam Pomfrey is waiting for her," Dumbledore said. "Go straight to the infirmary."

It seemed to take no time at all from his command to the infirmary. Maybe she had drifted off again. She had never noticed how big the infirmary was. She had either been unconscious or preoccupied by Harry or Ron or by her own maladies. Madam Pomfrey ushered them into her office.

"Remus, put the girl down," Madam Pomfrey said. "She can walk into my office. And you're not to follow or peek in." She stared pointedly at Moody, who harrumphed. "There might be sensitive matters discussed between women. No spying." Pomfrey put an arm around Hermione's shoulders and led her into her office. Professor Dumbledore was there, his eyes cold and hard, so different from the twinkling that she had seen minutes before.

"Are they outside?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes. They're going to keep Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley away. Hopefully, they'll think it's just a routine questioning by a nurse. That will give us enough time."

"Good." Dumbledore took Hermione's arm in a tight hand and pulled her forward, behind Pomfrey's desk where a trapdoor was open. She could see fire.

"Where the betrayers go," Dumbledore explained, and he pushed her in.

She had been here before. Unseen hands, fire light flickering against stones, echoes of her friends and enemies ricocheting off each other so that the words reduced themselves to tangled gibberish. She could hear the others like her, the same tortured screams of other in Ignorance. And all too soon, she was joining them with her keening plea for forgiveness that went unheard.

---

When Hermione woke, it was dark. She was in a room, she knew that. She saw the vague outlines of the stone walls and a desk in the corner. She was on her back in a bed. Disoriented and wary of what a bed meant, she sat up quickly looking around for clues that could tell her where she was.

Looking behind her, she saw nothing but a bedside table with a vial of clear liquid sitting on a thin rag. There was no lamp. Taking in her surroundings as a whole, the room was spartan, intended only for one person. There was no knob on the inside of the only door in the room. Although she had clearly been put into the bed with her head on the pillow, she had rolled so that she lay at the foot of the bed. She had no doubt that if she had been asleep any longer, she would have found herself on the floor. She was not even sure whether she wanted to stay in the bed now. Not if she was in Voldemort's fortress again.

She remembered the Order taking her out of the warehouse, but that had slipped easily into that awful nightmare, the nightmare that reminded her so much of the nightmare Voldemort had given her. It was entirely possible that the memory she interpreted as reality was only part of a vivid dream or a hallucination that Voldemort had staged.

She shivered and slid from the bed, her bare feet jerking at the coolness of the stone. At least the rest of her was clothed. Whoever had brought her here, wherever she was, they had not removed her clothing. But she refused to lift her hopes and think for a second that she was with the Order and at Hogwarts, like Lupin had said. Lupin could have been a simple spell or a Death Eater in disguise, or a Death Eater who she told herself was Lupin because she wanted it so badly, so she had seen who she wanted to see. She should have known better than to think, even wish, that Voldemort had set her free.

She still had no idea where she was.

In the manner to which she had grown accustomed whenever she knew someone would have to come, she leaned her back against the bed, brought her knees to her chest, and waited for whatever new terror Voldemort devised for her.

So she was understandably surprised when the room filled with light and the door opened, revealing apparently real Remus Lupin and Madam Pomfrey.

"Heavens, child, what on earth are you doing on the floor?" Madam Pomfrey chided, grabbing her under the arms and helping her to her feet. "You need to be in bed. I don't think you had anything worse than a few bruises, but that doesn't mean that after everything you've been through you shouldn't have your proper rest."

Hermione stared at them, as though reassuring herself that they were the people she remembered and not figments of her imagination. Madam Pomfrey's hands felt substantial, and her tone was brisk and no-nonsense, the same chirping it had always been. She did not want to go back into the bed, but she let Madam Pomfrey tuck her in anyway, aware of Lupin's scrutinizing gaze on her. She knew he was trying to see, like her, if she was the Hermione he remembered.

"How long have I been asleep?" Hermione asked.

"Five hours," Lupin answered, conjuring a chair and sitting beside her while Madam Pomfrey bustled about her, adjusting the pillows and giving her the vial of liquid to drink. She wrinkled her nose. Enervating Elixir was all well and good, but it made her jump and the aftertaste was like chicken feet--at least that was what Hermione likened it to, although she had never tasted chicken feet. "Which means that you likely aren't a Polyjuice copy. We didn't think you would be, but Alastor wanted to be certain. So you're in the isolation ward in the infirmary--hopefully a student won't contract some highly contagious curse in the near future. I knew it was you, though. Polyjuice doesn't hide the real person's original smell, only overlaps it with the person they Polyjuice into."

"You are real, aren't you?" Hermione said. "This isn't... I mean... I'm really in Hogwarts?"

Lupin smiled gently. "Yes, Hermione, you are at Hogwarts. You are in the care of the Order."

In spite of herself, she leaned into the pillow. There had been no deceit in his voice. It still seemed like an elaborate fantasy, but she did not care anymore. If this was reality, she could relax. If this was fantasy, she hoped it never ended.

"How... what day is it?" Hermione asked.

"April the sixteenth," Lupin replied. "It has been a long time since..."

Hermione did not have anything to say to that. Almost an entire year of education lost. Stolen away from her.

"How do you feel, Hermione?" he asked. If anyone else had asked, it would have been awkward and insensitive, but the earnestness behind his eyes revealed his true concern.

"I feel like I've walked into another world," she said, looking down at her hands and thinking every word through. "Like I'm different and nothing here has changed. Like it will slip through my fingers at any moment, like this relief I feel will only make me fall farther when it's taken from me. But I'm..." She stumbled with 'happy' and 'glad.' "I'm content to be back."

The door to the ward opened, hitting the wall with a bang. "All right, Remus," Kingsley Shacklebolt said, "it's time for us to ask her what we need to."

"And enough with this coddling," Moody growled. "We know she's not Polyjuiced, but we don't know anything else. This could be a trap in too many ways. And you know the evidence..."

"Now is not the time," Lupin said, standing before the Aurors. "She has only just woken up."

"No time like the present," Moody said. Tonks led Madam Pomfrey out of her office--under severe protest that her patient should not be disturbed. "We'll call you back in if everything's clear. You can listen outside if you need to."

"Before I leave, I would like to make it official that I think this is a grave mistake," Lupin said. He backed out of the room, maintaining eye contact with a thoroughly confused Hermione until the door shut in front of him of its own accord.

"Please drink this, Hermione," Tonks said, handing her a small tube. Hermione could not see its contents, but she knew better than to take something without knowing what it was, especially when the people administering the potion were looking at her like the Aurors of the Order were doing. "By authority of the Ministry. Sorry."

"I thought we hated the Ministry," Hermione said, shrinking back against the pillow to avoid the progress of the vial toward her mouth.

"We do, don't worry about that," Tonks said. "Just procedure, you know."

"What is it?" Tonks sounded reassuring, but that was not making Hermione feel any better. Procedure for what?

"Veritaserum, Miss Granger," Shacklebolt said. "If you have nothing to hide, then there is no reason to panic."

"But..." Hermione began, sitting up indignantly. She would have known how to counter his argument, but Tonks took advantage of her open mouth and poured the serum in. Hermione choked, swallowing unconsciously, then fell back against the pillow, eyes deadened and mouth slack.

Moody stepped forward to bark a question, but Shacklebolt stopped him with a hand. "Ministry Aurors, Alastor, not retired Ministry Aurors. If you have any questions at the end, we'll let you ask them."

Moody's ordinary eye narrowed with annoyance, but he allowed Shacklebolt to take the lead.

"All right, Miss Granger," Shacklebolt said. "You'll remember everything I ask you when we give you the antidote, but these are routine interrogation questions regarding your suspicious acts that have caught the attention of the Ministry as well as the Order. This will be as dry as possible, not confessional, just answering questions as briefly and succinctly as possible. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Hermione responded in a monotonous tone. Tonks winced at seeing Hermione like this when she had been so sparkling with life when she knew her at Grimmauld Place. Shacklebolt noticed her reaction and put a hand on her shoulder in support. Tonks was young, but she needed to learn about interrogation, especially with the brewing war.

"Will you adhere to my guidelines?"

"Yes."

"Then we'll begin." He sat down in the chair that Lupin had conjured and took out a piece of parchment from a bag that he held in his hand.

"Have you, in fact, been engaged in Dark Arts activities?"

"Yes."

"When did you begin?"

"Two years ago. My fifth year."

"What did you do?"

"Caused a girl to erupt in boils when she broke a contract," Hermione said.

Tonks shook her head and muttered to Shacklebolt, "We know about that. That was for the DA; they had to learn a certain degree of Defense. I think even Harry would be guilty of using some forms of the Dark Arts. More specific."

"When did you begin learning the Dark Arts on your own, independently of the Order and the DA?" Shacklebolt amended.

"Sixth year, after I was denied from the Order, and Harry and Ron were not."

"Why?"

"I felt left out. I knew that I could do it. To help."

Shacklebolt's forehead wrinkled in concentration as he digested what she had said. "So you taught yourself Dark Arts to help the Order?"

"Yes."

"How would learning the Dark Arts help the Order?" Tonks asked after she raised an eyebrow for permission to speak.

"To learn the counters to Dark potions and curses."

"Did you enjoy yourself?" Shacklebolt asked.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"It was exhilarating. New knowledge. A way to help even if the Order did not know."

"Did you enjoy the Dark Arts because of their darkness?"

"Yes. Different. Powerful. Challenging."

"Was it for you or for the Order?"

There was a pause as even the Veritaserumed Hermione had to think. "Both."

"What Dark Arts did you engage in?"

"Curses, hexes, potions."

"Which ones?"

"The Confundus Curse, the 13^th Jinx, the Wailing Curse, the 8-legged Hex, Serpent's Bath, the Fang-Flinging Hex, Venemous Secretions, the Hypnotist's Charm, the Hex of Delight, Melancholia, the Suicide Curse, the Elephant Jinx, the Nightmare Curses, the Pleasure Principle, Lip Locker, Harlot's Hex, Abriola Charm, Gut-wrenching Potion, the Draught of the Living Dead, the Slow Death, Monstrous Draft, the Love Potion, the Nightmare Potion..."

The Aurors' eyes grew progressively wider as she listed off the illegal or forbidden charms and potions.

"Did you practice these arts on a human being?" Moody interrupted.

"Yes."

Tonks turned white. "On who?"

"Myself, if I needed to. Other potions and curses already had an antidote, and I perfected them."

"Anyone else?"

"No."

"Did you know that the use of these curses, hexes, and potions was illegal?" Shacklebolt said, shooting cautionary glares at Moody and Tonks.

"Yes."

"And you used them anyway. Why?"

"The Order is illegal. Sometimes laws must be broken."

"She has a point," Tonks muttered. "In for a penny..."

"Get on with it, Shacklebolt," Moody said. "Voldemort."

"All right," Shacklebolt said to Hermione, ignoring Moody. "When did you first meet Voldemort?"

"Sixth year, in the Forbidden Forest. I didn't know he was Voldemort. He was wearing a cloak."

"Did you engage in any Dark activities with him?"

"Yes."

Tonks shook her head. "Damn, this girl really got in deep."

Shacklebolt was shaken, but he continued. "Why did you leave with Voldemort in this school year?"

"He took me. I didn't leave. He gave me a Nightmare Potion that I brewed and brought me to what seemed like a dungeon or a secret room in a dungeon. Maybe connected to the Chamber of Secrets."

"Voldemort was in the school?" Moody asked incredulously.

"He was the snake."

"What snake?" Shacklebolt said. "And if you say anything else, Alastor, I'm afraid you'll have to go outside."

"Belthazar. I did not know he was Voldemort. He just looked like a snake. I confiscated him from Draco Malfoy. I tried to give him back to the menagerie, but they wouldn't accept him. If I gave him to an Auror, he might have been put to sleep. So I brought him to Professor Dumbledore. Professor Dumbledore told me to keep him. I kept him for ten weeks."

Tonks whispered, "Albus let her keep him. Did he know?"

Shacklebolt shrugged. "Possibly," he whispered back. "Would certainly be a way to keep an eye on him if he was Voldemort and a way to keep a snake alive if he wasn't."

"Still," Tonks said. "Bit dodgy."

"Yes." Shacklebolt directed the next subject question at Hermione. "We have hearsay and substantial evidence for questionable activities while you were in Voldemort's possession. Severus Snape says that you had sexual relations with Death Eaters. Did you?"

"Yes."

"Willingly?"

"Sometimes."

Tonks' face twisted in confusion.

"Were you raped?"

"Yes."

"Did you ever give sex willingly?"

"Yes."

"Maybe she was raped to begin with and it progressed... ew." Tonks stuck out her tongue at the thought.

"With whom did you have sex unwillingly?"

"Darren Crabbe, Landon Goyle, Peter Pettigrew, and Lucius Malfoy."

"Considerably more than I wanted to know," Tonks muttered.

"You'll need to keep comments to a minimum, Tonks," Shacklebolt said. "You're allowed to question, but biases must be kept out of the interrogation if possible." To Hermione, "With whom did you have sex willingly?"

"Peter Pettigrew and Lucius Malfoy."

"Probably progression," Tonks said.

"Top or bottom?" Moody snapped.

Veritaserumed Hermione had to decipher the question before answering, "Both."

"Dominant," Moody said. "She did it willingly, the slut."

It seemed the Shacklebolt was drawing the same conclusions, and he went into another subject. "Can you tell us anything new about the Dark Lord's hidden fortress?"

"No. Professor Snape knows everything I know."

Tonks cursed in frustration.

"What were you to him?"

"A pet. An amusement."

"Did you obey his commands?"

"Yes."

"That could apply to a prisoner," Tonks said weakly.

"Did you actively work against the Order and the Ministry when you obeyed him?" Shacklebolt asked.

"Yes."

"Merlin on a second-rate broom," Moody breathed.

"Did you brew these potions for him?" Shacklebolt reached into the bag and pulled out broken flasks and vials of potions labeled in Hermione's neat, precise hand.

"Yes."

"What else did you do for him to directly work against the Order and the Ministry?"

"Decrypted Professor Snape's journal and gave him the full translation."

'She decrypted one of Snape's codes?' Moody mouthed. "Imagine that mental power in Voldemort's hands," he said aloud.

Shacklebolt was practically shaking, not with anger, but with shock and even a bit of fear.

"Give her the bloody antidote," Tonks said. "I'm not sure I want to hear any more."

"Just a few more questions," Shacklebolt said. "Why did the Dark Lord give you back to us?"

"I don't know. I'm beginning to suspect."

"What do you suspect?"

"So that I could come back to him."

"An informer," Moody said. "This is enough. We have heard enough."

"You're right," Shacklebolt said, reaching into his pocket for the antidote. He held it to Hermione's slack jaw. "This is enough. She's clearly not to be trusted."

He poured the contents of the vial into her mouth. Her head fell to the side as the antidote slid thickly into her stomach.

There was a banging on the door before it burst open with the force of a violent wind spell. "Don't feed her the antidote!" Professor Snape yelled. "Damn it! You were asking the wrong questions and now... I should have known that Auror interrogation with Veritaserum would lack the subtlety necessary for the potion. Miss Granger," he said, reaching for her shoulder, "I need to ask you a few more questions..."

Her eyes opened just as she saw his hand reaching for her, and she reacted like she would with any Death Eater now that she knew she was free. She jerked back and fell out of the bed. Her feet scraped on the floor trying to back away. Bits and pieces of the interrogation were coming back to her, and her eyes widened.

"No," she whispered. "No. I didn't... I'd never... it was all wrong... you... you don't know what I've been through... it was all wrong..."

"Anyone with any intelligence," Snape snapped the word out at the Aurors, "could hear that, Miss Granger. I'm not going to..."

"Last time I saw you, you looked like you wanted to kill me," Hermione babbled, "but it wasn't me, Voldemort had me under a new form of Imperius he created, Sensitimperius, and I had to kiss Wormtail and take Lucius' hands all over me... and you had to watch... and I could hear how angry you were... I could see you thought I had joined him... you were so angry and I was screaming in my head that it wasn't me you were seeing... it was like I knew everything going on but I couldn't stop it... you have to believe I wasn't there... I wasn't doing anything... it was all the Dark Lord... it wasn't me..."

Lupin had entered the room after Snape and he, too, looked furious. He yelled over Hermione's cries at Shacklebolt and Moody and Tonks, "Severus is right, you asked all the questions that I wouldn't have asked, and now Harry and Ron think she has truly joined Lord Voldemort. If I thought you were going to be so idiotic, I would never have left."

While Hermione was denying her willing involvement with Voldemort and shaking in the corner, Snape approached her like he would a frightened animal. "I don't know whether to believe you, Miss Granger, but until I can interrogate you properly--with all questions asked, not just Ministry questions, questions that a former Death Eater knows to ask--neither the Aurors nor I will know what to think."

Lupin whirled on Snape. "Stop antagonizing her. She's been under..." He stopped as he realized that Snape was on his side. "Oh. Shall I go retrieve Harry and Ron then?"

"I would advise it," Professor Dumbledore said from the doorway. His eyes were not twinkling, but they were not cold and hard, like they had been in her nightmare. He looked down at Hermione with the utmost seriousness. "I realize that what she has said is incriminating enough for the Ministry to imprison her for at least a mandatory twenty four hour period, but I would like the whole story, not just the story determined by Veritaserum. The structure you set for her made her answers extremely limited, and I'm sure there is a larger explanation for many of her actions."

Lupin nodded and left the isolation ward.

"Hermione," Dumbledore murmured, walking slowly toward her, "it is undeniable that you have engaged in illegal activities, both by your own volition and by Lord Voldemort's command. However, I believe that in the latter, there were extenuating circumstances that the confines of Veritaserum did not allow to come to the surface."

"Voldemort would have made it obvious that she was his servant," Snape said to Dumbledore. "But he would have let it remain obvious under the surface that she was not."

Dumbledore nodded. "It would be a game that Tom would play. Do you think you can interrogate her properly without Veritaserum?"

"I can, but couldn't Occlumency...?" Snape began.

Dumbledore tilted his head at Hermione and said softly. "Try it, if it's possible. Her mind is guarded."

"But that's impossible," Snape snorted. Then his countenance revealed the realization. "Unless he's blocking her through the..."

"Hermione," Dumbledore said. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to show us your left forearm."

"If you think she has the Dark Mark, doesn't that mean that she is unequivocally a Death Eater?" Moody growled. "There is no record of a person receiving a Dark Mark against their will."

Snape glared at Moody. "Not many who attend an initiation are unwilling unless they are the victims for sacrifice or the pleasure of the inductees. Miss Granger was at the initiation, and it is possible that she had a hand in some of the rituals unwittingly. We will have the full explanation after Lupin returns, not the bumbling inefficiency and ineptness of your interrogation."

"And I suppose your duties as interrogator while a Death Eater qualifies you more than trained Aurors," Moody retorted.

"At least I know what I am," Snape murmured savagely. "And I know Voldemort far better than you ever will. I believe that I am more than qualified."

"Alastor, Severus, please," Dumbledore said, holding his hands between the two men. "Miss Granger, your arm..."

She clutched it tightly to her stomach, rubbing it. "I didn't... he gave... I watched... I can't... what he..."

"Miss Granger, I will not consider it a brand on your character," Dumbledore replied gently. "But if the Dark Mark is interfering with Occlumency, I would like to know about it."

Snape did a double-take on the buttons of her robes. They were remarkably familiar. "Are those my robes?"

Hermione looked at him in confusion before looking down at herself. Then she flushed. "Yes," she whispered, embarrassed. "He took them out of the wardrobe in your laboratory and adjusted them with magic to fit me."

There was a snort from the other side of the bed. Tonks was covering her mouth, and there was a sparkle of amusement in her eyes. But it was clear where her loyalties lay. She was standing next to Moody and Shacklebolt, taking sides.

"He didn't let me wear anything at all before that," Hermione said fiercely at the sniggering Metamorphmagus, missing the priceless face Snape had when she acknowledged that she was wearing his clothes. "Sometimes a shift, but mostly I walked around without any clothes. Do you know why?"

"Maybe because you spread your legs, just like Draco said you did," Harry said, his mouth drawn in a thin line. Lupin led Ron in as Harry was speaking, and the accusatory glint in Ron's eyes directed itself straight at Hermione.

Hermione felt something pierce her heart, and an obstruction began to form in her throat. Harry did not believe her. The one hope she had... But Lupin squeezed Harry's shoulder, and Hermione could see Harry wince under the pressure.

"No," Hermione replied. "It's because I was lower than a house-elf to him. House-elves can cover themselves, but I couldn't wear anything without Voldemort's permission."

"Before you continue, Miss Granger," Snape said. "I have to look into your eyes to know if you are telling the truth, and it would be better if you were on the bed. And you have yet to show us your forearm."

"I don't want to." Hermione's eyes darted from Snape to Dumbledore to Harry to Ron to Moody to Shacklebolt.

"I've seen a Dark Mark before," Snape said impatiently.

"You mean," Ron sputtered, "you mean that after all this time... we thought you were fighting... we were with you all this time... and you joined him? You actually..."

"Silence!" Snape bellowed. "I will not work under these conditions. If you cannot let me do my work, then you can leave. If you are not willing to hear Miss Granger's side, you were never worthy to be called her friend. Not even a Dark Mark can change that. This entire situation reeks of Voldemort's whimsy, and I want to hear Miss Granger tell the truth."

Many in the room were left fuming, but they did not say another word.

Snape looked at Lupin. "Could you assist Miss Granger into the bed?"

Lupin nodded and approached Hermione. She still held her left arm against herself, but she let herself be coaxed to the bed. She sat on the edge, trying to force all memories of previous beds from her mind, not entirely succeeding, but enough to keep from sliding back to the floor, where she felt far more comfortable. When he sat down next to her, she was too aware of the press of his thigh against hers and the sensation of his hand around her waist. She knew in her mind that he was being supportive, but she moved herself farther from him, eyes apologetic. He took the slight in stride, giving her a small smile of understanding.

Snape held out a hand and locked his eyes with hers. "Your arm, Miss Granger?"

Hesitatingly, Hermione stretched her left arm out, the forearm facing up. Snape smirked as he saw the row of buttons up the sleeve, and he knew Hermione would never be able to undo them herself. She closed her eyes and turned her face away as he spelled the sleeve so that it gaped open around a lurid Dark Mark.

Moody swore under his breath, knowing better than to get between Snape and Dumbledore when they were this persistent. He did not know why Dumbledore listened to the former Death Eater rather than him, but he had learned not to contradict Dumbledore because he was often right--often, not always. Moody did not think he was right in this case. What he heard was far too incriminating. There was never any reason for what she did, not after what her actions had caused, even if they were inadvertent actions. He did not think he could forgive her for that. He glanced at young Weasley and Potter. It seemed they were taking the Dark Mark and everything else in the same light as he. Good. Maybe they would not be so blinded by Dumbledore's hesitance to believe that one of the Golden Trio would betray the Order. He, Moody, had seen worse betrayals.

"All right, Miss Granger, I want you to look into my eyes. If you look away, I might think that you are lying." Snape knelt down on the floor so that he could be at eye level. "I may intimidate you. I may ask embarrassing or personal questions. I may ask you to remember something that you do not want to remember. But if you know you are innocent and convince the rest of us that you are innocent, you have nothing to fear. I don't want you to answer anything but the truth, but give thorough explanations. We have all night. Are you ready?"

Hermione looked at him, clutching the sheets of the bed, but she did not look away. She nodded.

"Very well. Now I want to you explain why you were doing Dark Arts during your sixth and seventh year without information Messrs. Potter and Weasley?"

Hermione's eyes did not waver. "When the Order denied me membership, I thought that I could help you anyway. All I wanted to do was research antidotes to poisons and Dark potions, and I wanted to develop countercurses for indefensible curses. I realized that in order to do that, I had to research the Dark Arts themselves. I succeeded, and I'm willing to giving the Order any information on protection that they want."

"I know the extent to which you researched," Snape said. "I heard the number of Dark potions and curses you practiced. However, I'm still curious why you did such a dangerous thing without including your friends."

"They would have told you. And I knew that they would worry and wouldn't want me to do some of the spells and potions on myself. Some of the things were dangerous, like when I went into the Forbidden Forest to gather ingredients or study some Dark creature. I protected myself though." She held out her wrists and stretched out her fingers. Lupin winced slightly when he saw the faded lycanthe on her palm, but he did not comment.

"The Dark Arts are tricky, and more than dangerous, Miss Granger. There was a reason..."

"I know that now," Hermione muttered. "My lord... Voldemort told me about..."

"She called him her 'lord,'" Moody snarled.

Snape stood, all menace. "Out," he said. "You can wait outside and listen where you can comment to your heart's content, but I will not have you interrupting." Moody looked to Dumbledore, who nodded. Curling his lip in a sneer, he hobbled from the room. Tonks and Shacklebolt were uncertain whether to follow him or stand their ground, but they stayed.

"Go on, Miss Granger."

"Voldemort told me that the Dark Arts latch onto those who use them, even if intentions are good. He told me that you, Professor, fight them every day and that Aurors only tell themselves that they are fighting for the right side, although they engage almost indiscriminately in the Dark Arts. They develop a blood lust. I... I'm not sure how right he was, but I do recognize the pull of the Dark Arts now. When I brewed the potions he told me to make, I felt them. When I thought about what I wanted to do to his Death Eaters, I felt them. They want to be used."

Snape's face was sneer-free. He had never shown himself like this, so open to what she was saying. "The Dark Lord uses the truth as a weapon when it is useful to him. What he told you was true."

Hermione heard Harry, Ron, Tonks, and Shacklebolt shift in both discomfort and indignance.

"You said you did not leave with the Dark Lord," Snape said. "However, he took you. How did he take you?"

"The Nightmare Potion. I don't know how he gave it to me in his snake form, but I suspect Draco Malfoy had something to do with it. He was acting oddly around me all day. When Voldemort gave me the antidote I had made, I woke up. It seemed like another part of Hogwarts, and it was cold enough to be a part of the dungeons. When he took me away, he put a bag over my head and had the elder Crabbe or Goyle carry me away so I wouldn't know how he got in and out."

"Why didn't he just kill you? Why did he take you instead?"

"For several reasons, I think, though the main reason was that he simply couldn't."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"The snake-charming spell," Hermione replied. "I don't know whether it would work if it was cast on him while he's in his man-form. I wouldn't think so. But while he was a snake, the menagerie manager told me to take control of him with a snake-charming spell so that he couldn't hurt me or leave me."

Snape smirked. "I can imagine he was not pleased with that."

Hermione's smile was less amused. "He had Crabbe and Goyle beat me, trying to get me to release him from the spell."

"Did you?" Ron said accusingly. "Did you give it to him so soon?"

Snape glared at Ron, as though he was not worth the Potions Master's time. "You may join Moody, Mr. Weasley."

Ron shut his mouth, but he did not move. Snape did not press the issue.

"I did not." Her voice caught. "They beat me until I was unconscious. I guess they raped me. I wasn't completely sure until I admitted it under Veritaserum. I bet it hurt Voldemort that I was hurting, too. It was frustrating for him, no matter what face he showed me when he wanted the spell removed."

"What happened then?"

"I was put in a dungeon for what I think was two weeks. It was freezing, I was bruised--I think I was magically healed a bit, too--and after two weeks of the wet winter weather, no food, no water except what dripped down the walls, I wasn't all there. Creatures... house-elves, I think, brought me to a warm room, a bath, with food. That was when Wormtail came in."

"Was that when Wormtail...?" Tonks asked softly. Because of her tone, Snape did not snap at her.

Hermione nodded. "Yes. It was... I didn't have enough energy even to push him away. I fell asleep before his hands even touched me below my waist. The bed was just so nice after a stone floor, and it was like I had gone numb."

"So you just let him fuck you? You didn't even fight...?" Ron began.

"Out, Mr. Weasley," Snape said. Ron let out a frustrated yell and punched the wall, but he left the room after opening the door with a spell. "Continue, Miss Granger."

"I didn't let him. I had no energy to fight him."

"Did he ever violently rape you?"

"Yes. The next day."

"You sound less harsh than I would expect after a man like Wormtail "

Hermione hesitated. "Wormtail was... the kindest Death Eater. I don't know how to explain it. The next time I was given to Wormtail as a punishment for speaking against Voldemort and as Wormtail's reward for speaking up for himself, he wanted me to feel reassured, he wanted me to feel pleasure with him. He sincerely wanted me as a lover. I... he let me take control that time."

Snape's lip curled. "So that was the willing sex."

"It was willing, but it was... it's hard to explain... the dynamics of it. Maybe being around Voldemort and Death Eaters warped my perception of things, but... making Wormtail want me badly enough to scream..." Her cheeks, neck, and ears turned beet red. "It gave me the control instead of him. I knew that I was going to have sex with him, one way or another. He had a wand and his silver hand. I only had my body. It was either lying on my back and just taking it or... control. I don't know whether that makes me his whore or..." The obstruction in her throat grew, and she could just feel the disgust coming from Harry and Tonks, even Lupin, although she instinctively knew that for him it was disgust for Wormtail, not her. "But," she felt compelled to defend him, even after all the bad things he had done, "he let me cry. He let me just sleep next to him as he held me, no sex during that. He was more considerate... He was awful and revolting, but he was considerate... He was one of my only allies. I don't think it excuses him, but... he was better than anyone else."

"Did you enjoy it?" Harry said bitterly. Snape did not tell him to get out because he could sense the sincerity of the question.

"No," Hermione replied. "How can you say that? After the Shrieking Shack and your dreams of him, after he cut off his hand for Voldemort...? I never enjoyed the sex. I probably still have scarring there for what they did to me, all four of them. It was always an invasion. It was always a form of domination until I was allowed control. Even then I didn't enjoy it. I could never enjoy being forced to have sex. I couldn't..." Her voice wavered, and she swallowed the tears and hurt back as well as she could.

"Tell me about Lucius Malfoy," Snape said, giving her something else to think about.

"After the time Wormtail forcefully raped me, the only time, I let Voldemort free of the spell." She heard Harry inhale to say something. "Before you make any judgments," Hermione said quickly, "understand that I knew I would set him free eventually. Even my death would set him free. You know that Voldemort can be persuasive when he wants to be. I was going to give the countercharm. I just wanted him to suffer, at least for a little while. I don't know if you can understand that. Maybe you can't unless you've been through what I have. Harry, you've been targeted by Voldemort, but you haven't been through what I've been through. And you never will be. You won't understand completely. Just believe that I held out as long as I could. I did fight. I really did.

"After I set him free from the snake-charming spell, he gave me to Lucius to break me."

"Lucius?" Tonks asked.

"I was not supposed to call him 'master.' My master was Lord Voldemort," Hermione explained. "He tried to break me the only way he knew how."

"Sex." Snape was well aware of Lucius' talent for breaking young girls.

"Yes. I resisted at first."

"For how long?" Harry asked.

"Three weeks. He would punish me when I did not do what he taught me to do."

"How?" Harry asked.

"I don't want to say. It was... it hurt. It was nothing with his wand, but there was a knife involved. He charmed away any wounds after he was finished so that there would not be any scars. He knew where to press his fingers to cause me pain. He knew every inch of the body and how it reacted to certain painful stimulation. After three weeks I gave up and gave him what he wanted. I think that was the other willing sex. Not truly willing, but I did what he wanted." Hermione wanted to see Harry's face, but when he was silent, Hermione guessed it was enough to make him think, at least. Or maybe she did not want to see his face.

"You said Lucius 'tried' to break you. He didn't succeed?" Snape said.

Hermione shook her head. "Not like Voldemort wanted me to be broken. He decided that he himself was the best to break me. Maybe... maybe he did. Look at me... I'm not like I... like I was."

"What did the Dark Lord do?"

"The initiation," Hermione whispered. She wanted desperately to look away, but Snape's eyes had caught hers now. She could not depart from them if she tried.

"What happened after I left, Miss Granger?"

"The official initiation of the new Cat's Paws, Black Dogs, and Death Eaters. They are all people that you know or I don't know. Except Susan Bones. She wanted revenge for her family and for Neville's, and she tried espionage by being a Death Eater."

"Foolish girl." Snape swore.

"Voldemort knew at a glance that she did not truly want to be one of his. So after she had taken the full rites and received the Dark Mark, he killed her. Her body was the completion of the other initiated Death Eaters' rites."

"The consumption of the blood of a body dead due to them. They must have betrayed her before then. Foolish girl," he repeated.

Hermione fumbled at her wrist. "This bracelet. It's hers. I want Neville to know that she died for a good cause, trying to avenge them. Although I'm not sure how much consolation that will be." She managed to unclasp the bracelet without looking down, and she held it out behind her so that Harry could take it. She felt pressure and let the trinket go. She assumed Harry had taken it.

"How did you receive a Dark Mark when a caused death is needed?" Snape asked.

"My parents. I caused their deaths.... I watched... they brought them forward... I watched as they... it was... they were screaming... I tried to save them... but Crabbe and Goyle were holding me back... I tried so hard... they tortured them until... they couldn't move... and Voldemort took some of their blood on his fingers and forced it into my mouth. I... I had to swallow... or I'd choke..."

"What about his blood?" Snape said. "You need his blood as well."

"I bit down against his fingers. It drew blood."

"I see," he murmured.

"I... he... he killed them and gave me the Dark Mark... I think he burned their bodies and the body of Susan. I... I think I completely blacked out. I don't remember much of what happened after that, at least for a while. I wasn't really there, I was like a... like a machine... I just saw them... I couldn't stop seeing them unless I shut everything down... I just wanted it to... they're gone... because of me."

She felt a hand on her shoulder. It did not belong to Lupin, it was too thin to be Lupin's hand, and the bed had not shifted. Harry. She could smell his skin. She rubbed her eyes. She was not going to cry, not here, not where anyone could see her. She needed to cry for her parents--she had not mourned them yet, not really--but now was not the time.

"The next event I remember after that was when the younger followers of my... Voldemort attacked Hogwarts with that potion. They brought in Terry and Parvati and Padma, and Nott and Avery took Harriet and Darla for their own. Voldemort did a small Legilimens with Terry. I spoke out for the first time after the initiation--I came out of the blur. That was when I was given to Wormtail." She stopped. She hoped that was the last thing she had to talk about. Her entire body was tingling and shaking like a leaf. She was dizzy, her mouth was dry, and her stomach was tight as a knot.

"Continue, Miss Granger."

"I told you what happened with Wormtail," Hermione replied.

"You haven't told us about making the potions. Or about deciphering my text."

Her fingers scratched at the Dark Mark. She was not even aware she was doing it. "He gave me the task of translating your text that he found. I didn't for a while. I don't know how long. Probably two to three weeks. At least it seemed like that. I finally translated the first page because it looked like an introduction and not anything of importance. After I read it... But it seemed like you made everything too obvious. If you didn't want the text to be found, it wouldn't have been. And the text was too easy to translate. Voldemort had probably translated it already and just wanted me to as a symbol of... obedience."

"It wasn't supposed to be easy," Snape muttered. "It sounds like you are justifying yourself."

"I..." Hermione could not find words. "Maybe... maybe I was. I don't know... it just seemed... I don't want to blame the Dark Arts... and I don't want to blame the fact I knew I'd do it anyway... this I could have resisted... I could have... but I didn't. As awful... maybe I was bored... It's horrible... I know that I betrayed you and the Order and... I won't ever... I can't forgive myself... but once I gave in then... I kept giving in... he asked me to make potions because they didn't require a wand... so I did. But I was also brewing a Corrosive Concoction. I double-brewed many of the other potions, too, so no one knew I was making the Corrosive Concoction. I know that the potions hurt people, but..."

"One of the vials I showed you," Shacklebolt interrupted, "held an Explosion Potion used against Hagrid's house. Hagrid died."

Hermione stiffened. "What?"

"There was almost nothing left of him. It was a well-made potion," Shacklebolt said, his voice dripping with disgust. "And just because you were bored..."

"Hagrid's dead?"

"He died peacefully in his sleep if that lightens your conscience," Shacklebolt continued sarcastically. A tremor went through Hermione's body. She still did not cry.

"Out," Snape said. "You can rouse her guilt later, but now is not the time. Get out."

Now there was just Tonks, Harry, Lupin, Dumbledore, Snape, and Hermione.

"The Corrosive Concoction, Miss Granger," Snape said, bringing her back to the original subject.

Hermione's voice was thick when she said, "I knew that no one was going to rescue me if they hadn't yet. I know that I wasn't first priority. I didn't expect me to be, not among the Order, not when they weren't sure whether I was there willingly or not. I know what things looked like from the outside. But... where I was, after everything that had happened and everything that Voldemort had ever said, I was first priority for me. I used the Corrosive Concoction to burn through the shackles keeping me to the laboratory, and I hit Draco... Malfoy over the head with a rock. I nearly escaped." Her fingernails dug into the Dark Mark, almost drawing blood. Lupin reached over and gently removed her right hand from the damage. He held it for a moment, then released it.

"Nott caught me a couple of corridors away. He had beaten me almost immobile before my... Voldemort stopped him. He healed me. Then Voldemort chained me to his bed like he had at the beginning."

"To his bed, Miss Granger?"

Hermione shook her head. "He wasn't interested in me sexually. It was the principle of the thing."

"Anything else?"

Hermione shook her head. "Nothing. Who else did my potions hurt?"

"A few Ministry officials. Two are in St. Mungo's for insanity after being forced Formidable Foe," Tonks answered quietly. "Five Muggles. Hagrid and his dog. They threw the potion from the Forbidden Forest, before the Hogwarts barrier."

Hermione's head fell to her knees, eye contact with Snape finally broken. "I never... I wouldn't... it... I'm sorry... I... I'm... betrayer... I know... I'm... like Wormtail... betrayer... I never should have... it's..." Her left arm curled against her belly again, and she rocked back and forth. She still held back tears, and they swam in her eyes. Lupin reached out an arm to hold her shoulders, but Snape stood and stopped him. Then he pointed his wand at the girl's body and said evenly, "Stupefy."

"Moody, Shacklebolt, Mr. Weasley, you can come back in," Snape said, letting Hermione's body unceremoniously crumple to the floor.

"Weasley's left. Left a while back," Moody said, entering. Shacklebolt came in behind him. "He didn't hear a lot of what Miss Granger said. And it doesn't matter. She still caused the deaths of people. She still has to..."

"Be taken to Azkaban for her sentence to be decided," Snape finished for him, voice tight--because of what, no one in the room was sure. "She's ready for you. The Headmaster, I believe, has the final decision, though, being both her Headmaster and a member of the Wizengamot. I trust that he will make the wisest and right decision." Snape looked directly at Dumbledore, who had been silent throughout the entire interrogation. Dumbledore looked down at Hermione, contemplative.

"You must take her," Dumbledore finally said. "Procedure. I will have to think, and I will meet the Wizengamot and the Minister tomorrow to determine the verdict."

"Fine," Snape said. "I need to return to my quarters. It is late, and there is plenty I need to do."

"Of course, Severus," Dumbledore said, dismissing him. He beckoned to the Aurors. Tonks Levitated Hermione from the floor.

"By authority of the Ministry," Tonks said somewhat weaker than she would have liked to, "we take Hermione Jane Granger into Auror custody into order to detain her until her Wizengamot sentence or trial." Tonks' skin was white as she led Hermione from the room. Shacklebolt bowed to Dumbledore before leaving as well. Harry stared after them.

"So what have you decided?" Moody asked.

Dumbledore looked up, as though startled. "I must sleep on it. I recommend a good night's sleep for everyone. You should go back to your home, Alastor."

"She is guilty, Dumbledore," Moody said. "She made those potions. She did Dark Arts that some Aurors are not permitted to know before she ever met Voldemort..."

"I said you should go, Alastor." It was now less a suggestion and more a command.

Moody ducked out of the room.

"Good night, Harry, Remus. I'm afraid I'll have to leave you. Go to sleep, Harry. Things will be decided however it was meant to be decided." Dumbledore, too, walked out of the isolation ward, a troubled furrow in his brow.

Lupin glanced up from the close observation of his knees to see Harry still there, eyes on him.

"Do you think...?" Harry began.

"Yes," Lupin answered.

Lupin stood and guided Harry out of the room.