Azael's Chains

Second Interlude

"You're not-- you're not serious about this, are you, Snape?" This was his first full meeting, having recovered from the condition in which the Lestranges left him as well as his ensuing escape. The sallow man's expression was still as the Black Lake in winter. "That's Hermione; surely we can get her out? We should get her out."

"Nev--"

He shrugged off the placating arm. "No. No. Absolutely not. You're all alright with this? Leaving her there to get raped and tortured and--" Flinching, tears, curses waving away from him.

"Dolohov seems to, well, he's taking care of her, isn't he? Surely he's not all that bad."

The Gryffindor nearly gagged as he studied each member in turn; some were ashamed and could not meet his gaze, others clearly holding their tongues with clenched jaws, there were the saddened and the defeated, and he saw reflected in them several conversations he'd missed on this same topic.

"Taking care of her." He gave a hollow laugh, fists uncurling helplessly. "Have you been telling them how he takes care of her, Snape?"

He thought he spied the shape of sorrow in the man's black eyes, but it was gone in a flicker. "Miss Granger understands the importance of her current situation."

"She knows you're whoring her out?" Neville scoffed. His grandmother scowled at him and opened her darkly painted lips to give him a stern lecture, but the roar of his chair skittering backward silenced her. "None of you knows, not really. Only him." He nodded at the professor. "And me. None of you knows what it is like to be at their mercy. And I was lucky in some ways. The Lestrange brothers don't like blokes and Bellatrix is fucking You-Know-Who. But Hermione? Dolohov is obsessed with her. And he's sadistic enough Rodolphus respects him. He tortured her for hours because she pushed Rodolphus Lestrange's hand away. And you all want to leave her there because it's tactical? Fuck that." He glared at them in turn, a sneer to rival the bat of the dungeons contorting his features.

"Neville, mate." His friend spoke softly, voice sorrowful as glass shards. "If he doesn't have her, then he'll be hunting her. Hunting us."

Neville collapsed back into his seat, deflated by the obviousness of the statement. He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to stave off the ache of helplessness. After a silence narrowed to a point on him, he sighed and looked up, meeting Snape's eyes with deadly focus in his usually kind eyes. "We have to kill him."

The professor nodded in acquiescence. "In time."

"No, as soon as possible. This should be a priority."

Arthur Weasley brushed a hand through hair dulled by war, loss, and age. "Neville, I know this is important. I know Hermione is hurting every day we leave her there. I love that girl like one of my own." His voice choked as he glanced around at the remnants of his family. "But we can't afford to do anything recklessly. We can't-- can't afford to lose anyone else." Charlie Weasley clapped a hand over his father's shoulder as the man suppressed tears. Their family had been torn asunder, dead or in custody of the enemy, so few them left to huddle together. Without his wife the Weasley patriarch was hardly able to hold himself together.

Their numbers were decimated; Neville knew that, and knee they had to be delicate in their operations. It was just unbearable to imagine people he cared about locked away and tormented. And Hermione had it among the worst as she was one of the few muggleborn survivors of the battle.

Looking at the remaining members of the DA, especially those who had been at Hogwarts the last year, he knew why they'd freed him; he was their de facto leader, not that he wanted the position. But he was no Harry Potter, no member of the Golden Trio, no mastermind. Guilt weighed heavily on his shoulders that he was freed while so many others languished under Death Eater control. There was nothing for it though; he just had to push forward.

"What's next then?"

Snape allowed the resistance members a moment to collect themselves before launching into business. "We have a chance now to sow dissent among the Death Eaters, possibly turn some to our cause. However, it will require certain concessions on our part." Here he looked to the commanding presence of Kingsley Shacklebolt who gestured for him to continue. "Of course, leniency is foremost among them..."

Neville zoned out of most of the conversation then; the gist was enough for him, and he could always beg details from someone else. His thoughts floated back to black dungeons and dark rumors whispered in his ears...