A Mudblood's Treachery. NEW CHAPTER up! Finally.

Millicent fell to the hard wet ground just outside of a mountain slope. The sky looked brilliant, with tiny frozen crystals that stuck just above her head, lighting her way through the overreaching trees. She shuddered as a wet patch of snow dropped onto her shoulder from the overhead fir.



It was cold, and the scene back at Hogwarts, made her stomach pitch and her hands shake.



She truly felt alone, just as she did before she discovered Snape. As a child, she was notorious for taking off her clothes and everyone else for that matter, her mum use to call her cheeky, and her father just called her a disappointment. Yes, well bugger him.



Millicent moved towards the cave entrance and with a small swish of her wand, the rock blocking her way rolled to the side. Suddenly, three voices began to shout out at her all at once.



“Put your wand down,” Harry brandished his wand at the mouth of the cave.



“Stop right there!” cried Ron.



“Millie?!” asked Hermione, incredulously.



“Yes, it’s me,” Millie raised her hands in defeat. She stared boldly at Harry with a small smile on her lips. “Hello, wonder boy.”



Harry’s lip curled in a smile at her amused tone. Millicent Bullstrode, Slytherin bully was here with her hat in hand.



Ron looked panicked, “Blimey Harry, she could have led You-Know-Who right here.”



Millicent’s eyes were burning from the combination of tears and icy sleet. The weather was sharp enough to make a Deatheater weep like a baby, and it was bitterly cold.



“Pasty faced, hippograph turd, God, its so bloody cold. I hate English winters,” growled Millicent, as she haphazardly wiped sleet from her face staring belligerently at Ron.



“What I hate even more is discovering you close to me,” Ron interjected into Millicent’s monologue. “Aren’t you that the chubby Slytherin?” exclaimed Ron, with an excited look on his face.



“Have you taken a look in the mirror, mate?” snorted Millicent, as she eyed his slightly rounded belly. “In a few years, you may surpass me.”



“Oh, leave her alone Ron,” growled Hermione, and she moved forward with a concerned expression. “Why are you here?”



“I’ve come to help you. I think Voldy Hawn sucks, and I want to help you win,” Millicent said, inspecting her nails.



“DON’T say his name,” shouted Ron and Harry.



Millicent spared them a withering look. “His name isn’t Voldy, mates.”



“True…” interjected Hermione with a wry smile.



“Fine, you can stay Millicent, besides, you didn’t strike me as particular loyal to Draco,” stated Harry with a small smile.



“That tosser? No way,” declared Millicent with a broad wink to Harry. Harry felt a strange pull of attraction to this big, buxom girl with the effortless smart-ass remarks. It was strange, but he knew innately that she was to be part of his journey.



“WHAT, you can’t be serious Harry!” cried Ron as he walked towards them with a frown. “SHE is in Slytherin; she was breastfed by Deatheaters for Merlin’s sake!”



“I agree with Harry, besides, Millicent saved my life Ron,” Hermione hugged him. “Trust me; I know what I am doing.”



“The first sign that you are working with You-know-who and you will regret it…” growled Ron.



“Oh, what are you going to do, tie me down and make me listen to your Spice Girls record on repeat? Oh go on you wanker,” laughed Millie and she shivered. “It is as cold as Medusa’s teat out here though, any place to hole up at all?’



“Yeah right this way, Millicent…,” said Harry politely.



“Call me Millie, luv…,” murmured Millicent and she hugged her arms around her chest, shivering. Her breasts pressed up and Harry looked down her cleavage and swallowed hard.



“Um, okay Millie,” Harry led the way back to the cave, feeling warmer then he had in days.

















….









A month later.





















Draco paced back and forth inside his bedroom. It was the break between school years and his Godfather was sticking to him like glue. A bit annoying really, since Draco wanted nothing more then to find Hermione, and the lot.



He missed her deeply, the smell of her fluffy hair, the scent of her skin warmed from a flush. He closed his eyes recalling the moments of gasping pleasure that he had stolen with her. With Millicent awoled, the Dark Lord was furious and the school had been grim and unpleasant until the Holiday.



His mother was hovering at the doorframe of his bedroom. He could hear her fluttering noises and gasps of breath, as she indecisively pondered barging in his room. He cocked open one eye and turned to the door.



Draco stared icily across at his excitable parent and quirked an eyebrow. “Yes, Mother?”



“Fenrir Greyback’s captured some kids; they think its Harry Potter and his lot. Do you think you could identify them?” chittered his mother, pushing a sweep of blond hair back off her forehead. She shuddered slightly from nervousness. “Be careful Draco darling, if we are wrong, the Dark Lord will kill us all,” murmured Narcissa under her breath.



Draco stiffened and he felt an icy trickle down his spine. Hermione captured at his home, IMPOSSIBLE. She would not dare be so stupid as to be caught. Would she? Of course, she would, stupid Gryffindor.



Draco steadily rose, though his features were slick with sweat and slightly grayish in cast. “Of course, Mother, I am most eager to help the Dark Lord, obtain Potter,” replied Draco smoothly, although for a moment he was certain his vocal chords would fail him.



GOD DAMMIT. Hermione was going to get them all killed. Draco stared hard at the wriggling inky mark marring his perfect skin on his arm. It was writhing in excitement. Draco stumbled as his mother grabbed his shoulder, her nails clenching and unclenching as she grasped him.



Draco swallowed hard and walked down the steps to the parlor room. There in all their disguised glory was Potter, Hermione, Millicent and Ron. They looked abused and tired but defiant. Draco kept his gaze carefully blank, his eyes darting to Harry.



“Mother? That doesn’t look at all like Potter,” drawled Draco with a cold stare at the puffed up and jinxed version of Harry. “I can’t be sure,” sighed Draco, with a hint of a whine added to his voice.



Draco stared as Rudolphus entered with Snape at his heels. Damn his godfather and that bastard Lestrange for interfering, they will be sure to kill Hermione, without hesitation. Draco’s heart began to pound heavily. He dared not look at Hermione.



“Severus! What timing! We may have found Harry Potter. Thank God. Draco is unsure if it’s him or not,” cried Lucius as he walked into the room with them.



Snape followed Narcissa to the drawing room. Potter, with a jinx distorting his features, was sprawled on the floor next to Granger and Weasley. Other prisoners were also there but Snape ignored them.



“What’s this Lucius? Have we found Potter then?” Snape drawled out and Harry stared at him fearfully, shrinking back as Snape advanced.



Hermione shook in fear as Snape entered and Draco gratefully stepped back from the examination. Fenrir held onto the boy tightly with a yellow-clawed hand. Saliva dripped from his mouth as he panted, shooting a look to Snape.



“What did you do to him? Why is in his this state?” Lucius asked Greyback.



“That wasn’t us.” Greyback shifted slightly in annoyance.



Snape narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. “Well you had better be sure before you summon the Dark Lord, Lucius. Remember what he did to Rowel and Dolohov?”



“What about the Mudblood, then?” growled Greyback. Greyback moved to Hermione and he slid his clawed hand over her belly, lightly scratching at her t-shirt. Hermione was shaking in fear as she felt Fenrir’s rank breath on her neck. Fenrir sniffed her hair and growled in anticipation. Draco stared helplessly at Hermione from beneath lowered eyelashes.



Snape purposefully stared at Weasley for a moment, his black gaze glittering. Lucius followed his gaze and shouted. “Isn’t that the Weasley boy…? What’s his name, Draco?” His cold black eyes demanded him to play along.



Draco felt like vomiting and he could feel the color draining from his features. “Yeah, it could be.”



Snape pushed Draco aside as Rudolphus walked towards the trio. “Ahh, but who is this?”



Rudolphus stared hard at Hermione and his voice grew quiet. His eyes lit up frighteningly. “But surely… this is the Mudblood girl? This is Granger?”



“Yes, yes it’s Granger!” cried Lucius. “And besides her we think we’ve caught Potter at last!”



Rudolphus spotted something off in the distance. He strode forward stupefied all the men holding the sword, before turning on Greyback. “Where did you get this sword?” he whispered.



Greyback snarled. “It was in their tent.”



Rudolphus froze. “Do not call the Dark Lord, we may all perish. I have to be sure.”



Snape knew what the sword meant to the Dark Lord and he slowly backed away from Rudolphus. Snape stared hard down at Millicent, her eye was split open and she looked defiant, Snape felt something clench inside him watching her defiant look.



“Take the prisoners down to the cellar, Greyback’s. Except for the Mudblood.” Rudolphus yelled out sharply.



Draco turned sharply to Rudolphus and swallowed hard. “I have been waiting to stick the knife in that know-it-all since birth, let me help, Rudolphus,” pled Draco with a tense expression.



Ron screamed in outrage and Hermione stared hard at the floor. Tears pooled in her eyes. Millicent said nothing, her lips pressed firmly together in a grimace.



Greyback growled in pleasure. Hermione shifted against the werewolf and Greyback laughed, dragging his tongue across her neck. Hermione shuddered in disgust while the two boys screamed.



Draco reached over and punched Ron. “Don’t worry blood traitor. If she dies in questioning, I’ll take you next.” Rudolphus reached down, grabbed Hermione by the hair, and dragged her out of their sight.



Draco followed her, Ron, and Harry stared death looks at him the whole way.



“Rudolphus…” Snape murmured.



Rudolphus turned and his cold eyes gleamed under the dim lighting. He turned and faced Severus. Rudolphus nodded to him and his thin lips curled in amusement as he stared down at Millicent. His eyes glowed with the fire of madness before blanketing into cordiality.



“Take the chubby blood traitor, make her talk, the Dark Lord will expect answers,” Rudolphus squeezed Millicent’s shoulder, and pushed her to her knees in front of Snape.



Millicent stared up at the hook nosed professor as he stared down at her with a grimace. Millicent felt shame flood her cheeks and she stilled under the watchful gaze of Fenrir and Rudolphus.



Millicent shuddered softly as Snape grasped his spindly fingers in her dark hair, ripping at the root as he hauled her to her feet. She stumbled and Snape hissed insults as he dragged her to the upstairs room and threw her inside the room.



Millicent skidded to a stop and tripped over the threshold, only to fall on her knees facing away from Snape. She could feel anxiety thrumming in her blood. She choked as his shadow fell across her. She was certain this was the point. She had been hiding for a month now, and she was ready to die a hero. She believed in Potter, and she believed that he would defeat the Dark Lord. This moment was worth it, all of it.



Millicent turned over and drew her knees up to her chest, her eyes drawn to the scowling Dark Wizard that she once welcomed into her bed.



Severus Snape’s face was paler then before, his hawkish nose stood out of his proud and stern visage, accompanied by longish black hair, his Death Robes clothed his physique, and his skin stood out pearly white in contrast. He looked like Death, personified.



Millicent scooted backwards, frantically attempting to untie her wrists, rubbing her wrists raw trying to break free.



Severus glared down at the dirty faced ragamuffin, who glared so defiantly at him. Rounded eyes, ripe with misery and hatred, set in a pale and much thinner face, her cheekbones almost sharp enough to cut glass. She looked like hell, and far more beautiful then the dirty witch had any right to look. He felt his gut churning as she lunged backwards away from him. He set his mouth in a grim line and surged forward to grasp her raw wrists.



“What are you doing you bloody fool? Trying to commit suicide?” Snape grasped the bloodied wrists and gently cut the rope binding her fists together.



“Ha! I suspect you would think it was over you?” sneered Millicent as she jerked her hands back from his cold fingers.



She tossed her mane of dark hair and glared at him. “Well, then kill me already, we both know you don’t want any thing else with me, especially seeing as I am such a bore, between my legs,” hissed Millicent as she stuck her chin in the air.



Snape sucked in a deep breath to steady the pulse of lust that leapt to life at her sour words. She was never a bore, and the image that those words provoked a hunger in him that he had thought was long extinguished. This was the precise reason why Snape considered himself a great fool.



Clearly, this situation was going to get very messy, very shortly. Severus Snape was certain of that.









































Sorry about the worlds longest lag, my computer is shot and I am actually at my friends house, trying to use it. I should be back in the next month.



Love you guys.



Reisha