What t brt brings

Chapter one.

Severus Snape was not a kind nor fair man. He was hated by many, liked by few and trusted by none but one, Albus Dumbledore. It was this trust that kept him going.

The war between the light and dark was drawing to an explosive climax, and soon, in the summer before Hermione Granger’s seventh and final year at Hogwarts everything would change.

Hermione Granger was an incredible witch; she achieved all Outstanding grades in her OWL’s and was set to achieve the same in her NEWT’s. After the action filled fifth year with her two best friends, Harry and Ron, their sixth year had been unusually quiet at Hogwarts considering that the war was raging. They, all three, anticipated the same for their final year, but Hermione should have known that this was not going to be the case, especially for her, after she arrived home at the end of the sixth year.

Chapter two.

She couldn’t stand it any longer, she had to run, had to escape from the pain and hatred that emanated from them, and she abandoned all pretence of hope.

Her parents didn’t even hear her slam the door as she ran into the storm that was night. Hermione didn’t care that she was wet, cold and that she didn’t even know where she was going, and she lost all thoughts of caring until she ran straight into a cloaked figure.

“Watch where you’re going you pathetic muggle!” snarled the shadow.

Hermione regained her senses at these words.

“I’m not a muggle!” she cried sharply as she got to her feet and looked at the person.

“Well, well, well a common Mudblood, the Dark lord will be pleased.”

With a gasp of recognition, that this was a Death Eater, Hermione tried to retrieve her wand but was soon blasted off her feet and knocked unconscious.

The last thing she remembered was an evil laugh and the feeling that she was travelling by Port key.

A shiver of dread ran through the circle of Death Eaters as their Lord approached, through all but one. This was the night that Severus Snape had been waiting for, after countless nights of pain and suffering he had finally gained Lord Voldemort’s trust, with the aid of a potion, one, which contains the most potent of ingredients for immortality.

Voldemort’s greed for power and strength won him over, but unbeknownst to him he would be dead within the hour for, as only Snape would know, an infusion of wormwood, a common and cheap substance, would produce a poison so powerful and so undetectable, even to the greatest of Wizards.

“So…” began the high and cold voice of Lord Voldemort,

“What ‘gifts’ have been found for my loyal servants tonight? Rookwood?”

A man steps forward, shivering with both fear and cold.

“My Lord, I apologise profusely but we could find only one as the night is so horrible.”

“Just one, I am most disappointed, one is not enough to go around.” Replied his Lord in a dangerous hiss.“B-b“B-but my Lord… it is a Mudblood…”

“Hmmm, perhaps I can forgive this one time, let me see!” he replies in ill-disguised excitement.

And so, from the f of of Rookwood’s wet cloak, falls the limp and small form of Hermione Granger, much to the pleasure of moran oan one and the terror of another.