Manacled полностью

“ You told me to make him loyal. You are the one who recommended exploiting his interest,” she said in a clipped voice. “Now you're calling me delusional and accusing me of endangering the Order.”

“I said to hold his interest. You are trying to make him depend on you,” Severus said, his tone suddenly icy. “The difference is profound. In some respects, the Malfoys are closer to being dragons than they are wizards. They do not share. They are obsessive about what they regard to be theirs. Do you know who Lucius needed? Narcissa. If you succeed in what you are attempting, he will never let you go. And he will not be content with being secondary to anyone or anything in your regard.”

Hermione's heart shuddered slightly. She could feel cold terror slide down from the nape of her neck and bleed across her trapezius muscles. She squared her shoulders, and met Severus' eyes. She took in a sharp breath.

“He already owns me,” she said in a bitter voice. “'Now and after the war.' Those were the terms. Barring his death, when exactly was I ever intended to be let go? We need the intelligence. I can't hold him with half-hearted effort. It was all in for me from the moment you all agreed to sell me to him. Did you really think I was going to get to come back from it?”

Her shoulders shook slightly. “I don't know how to keep his interest without connecting with him. It's the only vulnerability he has. If you believe it to be that much of a risk you should speak to Moody because I — don't — see — another — way .”

Her voice was shaking and cracked repeatedly as she forced out the last words. She breathed sharply through her teeth as she tried to steady herself.

“He's a natural occlumens. And far better at it than me. There's no halfway option in the cards,” she added.

Severus looked startled.

“That does change things,” he said after a moment.

“Now you understand my difficulty,” she said, looking down at the floor. “There isn't an option of doing something I can back out of later. If you think I'm making the wrong choice you should tell Moody now.”

He said nothing.

“I'd best be going then.”

As she left Spinner's End, she felt dazed and unsteady. It was too warm and enclosed. She needed space to breathe. She closed her eyes and apparated to the stream in Whitecroft.

She hopped down the bank and seated herself on a large boulder among the thickly growing reeds, slipping her shoes off and dipping her toes into the cold water. The sharp sensation of the water felt like clarity.

She didn't know why she kept ending up here. She supposed it was the only place where she didn't feel like she was hiding anything.

She stared at the flowing water, replaying Severus' warning. She felt at a loss. All her hope from earlier in the week felt as though it had died somewhere inside her and started to decay. She pressed her hands against her eyes and fought to breathe evenly.

She couldn't waver now. If Severus had any alternatives or objections, he could raise them with Moody. She couldn't change tactics now that she'd finally found one that worked.

She stared down at her fallen prayer tower.

She felt so… angry.

Angry with the whole world until she felt like she'd shatter from it.

She was angry at Severus for accusing her of endangering the Order; at Moody and Kingsley, for deciding to ask her to become a whore, knowing she'd feel she had no choice; at Harry and the Weasleys, for refusing to use Dark Magic and bringing the war to the point where Hermione felt she couldn't refuse; at her parents, for being helpless and needing her to protect and give them up; and even at Minerva, for being so distraught on Hermione's behalf that Hermione felt she had to protect Minerva from Hermione's own grief.

Hermione had always thought that she could do anything for her friends. Anything to protect them.

Somehow all the things she had done had left her all alone until she felt as though she was dying of a broken heart.

There should be a limit. A point at which it stopped hurting at least.

But it never seemed to stop. It just kept growing and when someone fractured the facade the way Harry and Severus each had...

She didn't know how to fix herself anymore, and no one else seemed inclined to even notice she was breaking.

She let herself cry for five minutes before using her occlumency to cram the distracting emotions into a corner of her mind. The crying made her feel light-headed and made her temples ache. She pulled a pain relief potion out of her satchel and downed it.

She closed her eyes and forced herself to stop thinking about other people.

The afternoon sunshine had seeped into the stone and felt warm under her hands. The smell of the creek water and mud and the green biting scent of the reeds filled the air. After several minutes, she closed her eyes and tilted her head back to soak in the rays. She couldn't remember when she'd last felt warm sunshine on her face. The light from sunrise was always cold, despite its beauty.