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Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 14
- 15
- 16
Chapter 15
McGonagall brought Hermione to Snape's office. The transfiguration teacher and deputy Headmistress clearly expected to find out what was going on, but both Snape and Hermione kept silent until she left. Once one, Snape locked the door and soundproofed the room. Still disconcerted at being in the Potions classroom at night, Hermione looked around nervously. The room looked much as it had on that horrible night she had spent with Malfoy. The room was dim and the flickering light of torches played across the shelves, making the contents of the glass jars look ever more gruesome. Snape sat in his chair - the chair - and when he moved, the springs creaked. She tried not to remember the rhythmic creaking of the chair springs when she had been on her knees in front of it - in front of Draco.
Breaking from the memories that threatened to overwhelm her, she looked at Snape expectantly. It was a relief that he had finally called for her. The promise of freedom so close, the day had seemed incredibly long. That and the impossible revelations that she had gone through with Harry and Ron had set off her nerves. She felt as if the suspense was killing her.
"Miss Granger," the dark-haired man began. His voice was deep and smooth and Hermione could not read his mood. "I have been considering your situation. It is a most difficult one." He sighed and waved one hand in the air. "I admit that I could not come up with a completely satisfactory solution."
At these words, Hermione's breath caught in her throat in shock. She was immediately wary and her hands started to tremble slightly. What was Snape trying to tell her? Was he going to tell her that he'd decided he would not help her? That she had no choice but to subject herself to Malfoy's evil whims in perpetuity? If that was the case, she decided that she must leave school. She knew that she couldn't continue submitting to Malfoy. Not after the hope she had felt.
Snape cleared his throat. "As I'm sure you can understand, my position with the Death Eaters is somewhat precarious. The actions that I would like to take in this matter would put more than myself in jeopardy. It could risk the entire campaign against the Dark Lord. You can see that it is crucial that I remain in place at this time - for all our sakes. So I've -"
Hermione interrupted him, her face reddening, her words coming out fast as she tried to keep her emotions in check. "Yes, I understand, Professor. I'm not worth destroying your cover with You-Know-Who and the Death Eaters. Thank you for trying." She turned.
"Miss Granger, have I told you that you could leave?" Snape's voice was biting, clearly showing his annoyance.
She turned back and waited, trying not to let hope enter into this.
Snape pulled a wooden box from his cloak and placed it on the table in front of him. He looked at Hermione. "I didn't say that I would not help you, Miss Granger. Please try to refrain from jumping to conclusions. It is certainly not your most attractive quality."
She stared at him, her jaw dropping open.
He gestured to the box. "I have procured this for you. It is the most that I can do without jeopardizing everything. I regret that I cannot assist you more directly, but this will give you the means to help yourself. You are a bright pupil, Miss Granger, and I trust that you are clever enough to extract yourself from this situation if given the tools to do so."
Her eyes narrowed. What sort of a box could do that? It had been easy, thinking that Snape would be able to resolve her troubles for her - that she only had to sit back and wait to be rescued. It seemed, however that he wasn't going to save her. She didn't understand what he meant about helping herself. She had been through all the possibilities for so long and had always come to the conclusion that she could do nothing. That she was helpless and could only submit. Now he was telling her that she could do something about it? It seemed crazy. Powerless for so long, that this thought was foreign to her.
She approached warily, and looked at the box. Snape opened the lid. Inside the box sat a small stone bowl, decorated with simple carvings around the outside. Hermione knew instantly what it was. It was a Pensieve. She had heard about them from Harry and had read all about them in the library. Pensieves were magical objects that could hold memories. Witches or wizards could extract memories from their mind save them in the Pensieve. They retained their detail and accuracy and could be experienced at any time. Hermione looked closely at the bowl. It was filled with a shimmering silver liquid that swirled and roiled - someone's memories, already within the bowl. Whose, she wondered? How could someone's memories help her?
As if he'd read her mind, Snape said, "I have stolen these memories from one of the Death Eaters - Avery - he's not particularly high in the order but his memories were incriminating enough."
Hermione was confused.
Snape let out an exasperated breath. "I drugged the man with a potion late last night and removed these memories from his mind while he was unconscious. He was none the wiser. These memories show a number of Death Eater activities, for which Lucius Malfoy was responsible." He looked at her uncomprehending expression. "Don't you see, girl?" he snapped at her.
His eyes met hers, his dark eyes searching hers. Snape's waspish demeanor softened and his voice grew calmer and more gentle. "You can use this as you see fit. There are several options open to you. You may use it to -" he searched for the word, "convince... Draco Malfoy to desist in his demands of you. You may even use it to take down Lucius Malfoy and a number of Death Eaters by turning the memories over to the Ministry and the Aurors. Clever girl that you are, I'm certain that you can discover all the options available to you."
Hermione looked at the Pensieve. She felt as if her mind wasn't working entirely well. It took her several minutes to consider Snape's suggestion.
"Naturally, it would be best for my position if this was handled privately - without Ministry involvement." Snape said. "But as you are the injured party, it is your decision to make. I will not stand in your way if you wanted to go straight to the authorities."
Hermione and Snape were both silent for a time. She alternated between studying Snape and the Pensieve. Snape stared right back at her. She couldn't tell what he was thinking. Her sluggish mind began to wake and she started to realize what she had.
After several minutes, Hermione broke the silence, saying simply, "Thank you, Professor." She picked up the box and walked out quickly, ignoring Snape's calls to return. When it must have been clear to Snape that she was not going to heed him, she heard him call after her that the box was spelled so that only she or himself could touch it. The words reached her mind, although she was already thinking of other things.
Hermione didn't know where she was going until she ended up at the library. There weren't many pupils there at this hour. At her usual table she stared at the closed box, deep in thought. She wasn't sure how much time had passed when she was startled by someone sitting down at her table. Her first reaction was fear as she saw Draco Malfoy sitting smugly across from her. His blue eyes were almost merry and he had a sneering smile on his face.
"Well, well, if it isn't Granger. Been avoiding me, Mudblood?"
She gave no answer but pulled the box closer to her. Malfoy took no notice of this. Under the table, his foot grazed hers and rubbed upward, caressing her calf. She fought the urge to vomit and considered trying to leave, but she knew that she would have to face him sometime.
"I want to see you tonight." the Slytherin boy said, leering at her. "Two in the morning in the Charms classroom."
She gave no acknowledgement and with a final smug grin, he left.
Hermione spent the rest of the evening in the library, doing research. She remained there until Madam Pince finally chased her out. Returning to Gryffindor, she went to her dormitory and closed her bed curtains. In solitude, she opened the box and looked again at the small bowl of gray stone. Could this thing help save her?
It had been comforting to believe that Snape would save her, but it had also been foolish. He would never consider her to be important - not as important as his mission. Certainly not worth risking his life. She was just a Gryffindor pupil, and a Muggleborn as well. She laughed, disgusted at herself, realizing that Snape had probably been more upset about having been in the dark about his precious Slytherin student's activities.
Perhaps this way was better, she thought. She was so tired of being powerless. Now she had a tool with which to fight back. It might all backfire or blow up in her face, but she would fight for her freedom. It felt good.
With her wand, she prodded the contents of the Pensieve slowly. She could see wavy images flowing through the bowl, rising briefly to the surface. Dark cloaks and masked figures were common images. The Death Eaters. She cringed as she thought perhaps this Pensieve would have memories of You-Know-Who in it. She didn't think she wanted to see him, but she decided she should look at some of these memories, to make sure that they were as damning as Snape said they were.
Carefully she reached out a finger and touched the surface of the liquid.
In an instant she was sucked into the memory. It was disorienting - even more than her experience with the Time Turner had been. She found herself in a large stone chamber ringed with bright torches. Men in dark cloaks were everywhere and for a moment she was frightened. A tall man with blond hair stood at the front of the room, all the others facing him. Lucius Malfoy. Even if she hadn't recognized him from the summer before her second year she would know him instantly from his resemblance to his son. She cringed a bit as she stared at the man, so much like the boy who had been tormenting her. He had the same eyes. Blue and as cold as ice. She instantly flashed back to those same blue eyes hovering over her, their owner pawing at her flesh and forcing himself painfully between her legs. The look in those eyes as he took pleasure from her misery was something that she would never forget. She shook her head hard as if she could remove the memory.
Lucius Malfoy's demeanor was haughty and arrogant, his voice ringing through the stone room, commanding silence from the others. She didn't recognize many of the men, who were not yet wearing their Death Eater masks. It was incredibly strange to see her Potions Master toward the front of the group. Was he truly a spy? Or perhaps it was a convenient alibi for dark activities. She knew he hated Harry and she knew he was a Slytherin. She watched him closely for any sign of an alternative loyalty, but could detect nothing other than utter obedience to Malfoy.
She listened in disgust as Lucius Malfoy planned the attack on the Finnegans. He organized everything and assigned the Death Eaters their roles. This, she admitted to herself, was certainly damning enough evidence. This memory alone could put Lucius Malfoy and a dozen Death Eaters in Azkaban. It was one of several memories in the Pensieve.
After a few more minutes, Hermione decided that she'd seen enough.
Back in her dormitory, she sighed in the relief of being out of the frightening memory. She had never expected to experience the inner workings of the Death Eaters and it was quite disquieting.
She was surprised to realized that it was nearing two o'clock in the morning - the time of her meeting with Malfoy in the Charms classroom. She smiled, feeling a surge of energy and power. It was strange, to now feel strong and confident after having felt so hopeless for these past days. She almost laughed out loud at the feeling. Those days of crying and cringing, she thought, were certainly over.
When she arrived in the Charms classroom, rather than fearing that Malfoy was there, she was happily anticipating his presence. Swinging the door wide, she entered the room seeing Malfoy sprawled out on top of one of the student tables.
"Late again, Granger? Will you never learn?" He sat up, looking at her. "How do you like our surroundings for the evening? I thought perhaps you could service me in each of our classrooms. It will give you such fond memories of Hogwarts."
She watched him with a dull look, trying to keep the anticipation from showing on her face.
Malfoy unfastened his robes and opened them, his naked flesh showing underneath. Hermione held back a her disgust as he beckoned her forward. She slowly approached the blond boy. Once close, she reached out and put her hands on his chest. He was silent, his face showing curiosity at her actions. This was the first time she had touched him without being forced or threatened. She rubbed her palms against his warm skin, causing him to gasp, whether from surprise or from pleasure, she didn't know. She moved closer to him, her hands prodding and rubbing his flesh. His cold blue eyes were wide, she noticed, looking deep within them. With the fingers of her right hand, she pinched his nipple while her other hand went on rubbing elsewhere.
The blond boy shuddered. "My, my. I've turned you into a horny bint, haven't I?" She smiled at him, looking up through thick eyelashes, keeping her eyes trained on his face.
Malfoy threw his head back and groaned as her hand moved down to his lap, lightly fingering the blond hair that curled there. With one hand, Hermione caressed his balls lightly. Malfoy moaned, distracted as her other hand rifled through his pocket. She stroked him lightly with her fingers, pushing away his insistent hand that was trying to close over hers to direct her. She ran her fingers along the underside, almost tickling him. He closed his eyes in pleasure at her touch, succumbing to her actions, his hands falling to his sides.
Malfoy's wand securely in one hand and his hardening member in her other - her grip low and near the base - she took a deep breath and, looking into his eyes, a small smile spreading over her face, squeezed. Hard. As hard as she could.
Malfoy's eyes flew open as he yelped and flailed to push her away. The look of pain and fear in his eyes was priceless, she thought, glad to for once be on the other side of it.
"What are you playing at, bitch?" he panted, one hand defensively over his crotch, his mouth opened wide in shock. He searched his pockets for his wand, finding nothing. Fool, she thought, holding his wand up and smiling. She placed his wand in her pocket and removed her own. Pointing her wand at Malfoy, Hermione hoped he could see the broad smile that had come across her face.
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