Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, just enjoy mixing them up into different stories.
Note: This is the sequel to a Short Summer to Act. I mentioned that I would indeed do it and now, after many many months I've finally gotten through the first story. If you haven't read A Short Summer to Act, then it would be good to read it though, as there are many things I've referenced form that one. It picks up where the last chapter left off and will end at the epilogue. Each chapter will be one story in and of itself - just trying a different format.
As always, thank you for reading and supporting me. I would also like to thank my beta, I know life has been busy for her and she's done a great job. This story has only been partially read through by her, but I just wanted to put it up to get things rolling. So if there are some spelling things or grammar things...blame it on me!
Story 1: No Preparation Is Ever Enough
Synopsis: Newlywed Hermione Granger and Severus Snape learn more about themselves and their growing bond during their two-week 'Honeymoon' at Spinner's End. The pair will discover that despite their intense training in the dark arts, occlumency and combat, nothing can prepare them for Hermione's introduction to the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters.
Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence. Death of a minor. Sexual situations. Language.
The beginning of the school year had passed in whirlwind fashion for Hermione Granger. While that was not necessarily something out of character for the Head Girl in her 7th year, it was the nature of this whirlwind that was anything but normal. She had been inducted into the Order of the Phoenix, was in the full swing of preparing for an advanced double course load, had brewed a horrifically complicated potion over the summer, consequently placed out of advanced potions and married Professor Severus Snape. All of this had been accomplished within the first six weeks of the school year and she had only just turned 18.
Snape was by no means the love of her life, they hadn't even had what her parents would have considered a "proper courtship". It had been out of calculation and necessity that they had been made to forge this bond, and she had no shame in admitting that this appealed to her more logical nature. They had a war to win, and while she couldn't deny they were both attracted to one another at some level, she had no great illusions of a fairytale love. The Dark Lord required his followers all take wives and she knowingly and willingly married a known Death Eater, a double agent and, in her opinion, the greatest hope for the Order to win. She had willingly walked into the fire, and it was only a matter of time before she would get burned.
It was, however, with great delight that Hermione looked forward to Autumn Break. She had barely had time to get to know her enigmatic new husband though they had spent a rather interesting summer together earlier that year. Professor Dumbledore had told her it would be a Honeymoon of sorts, an opportunity to pick up where she and Severus had left off on their rushed wedding night. Hermione would later find out that 'Honeymoon' was really Dumbledore speak for "get the girl secluded and train her as much as you can so she doesn't get killed", she would shortly find out there would be no rest for the weary.
Her last visit to Spinner's End had indeed been her wedding night, so she was naturally eager to see Severus' small house in the daylight. The property was just as she had remembered it from that night, several weeks before. It was a drab dusty place, but otherwise meticulously kept. Though the furniture may have been threadbare and the china cracked, there was a place for everything and everything had its place. This produced a somewhat soothing effect on Hermione, though she would have to do something about the lack of coziness and general darkness that had taken hold of the this old house atop a cliff.
They would have two weeks to train her up for the inevitable, her first meeting with Lord Voldemort. Hermione knew this was something she could not get around, particularly due to the position that Severus held amongst the Death Eaters. In the years to come she would look back on this moment in time and chastise herself for her naiveté, she had no idea what horrors would await her in the presence of the Dark Lord. But now she accepted what came her way with a blissful ignorance.
The time she and Severus would spend together at Spinner's End that autumn would be an eye opening experience for the young witch, though perhaps not in the way that Dumbledore had intended. Every morning she and Severus would wake and immediately begin with hand-to-hand fighting and weapons, with which she was already quite proficient. Hermione was well versed in this kind of combat, having trained in Muggle martial arts over the years, so their sparing was often spirited and as artful as ballroom dancing. Severus had reach and strength on his side; it had only taken Hermione only a few times to end up pinned with a blade to her throat to understand how best not to approach her husband. He was smooth when he moved and his face gave no indication of when he would strike – it took time to adjust. Hermione on the other hand, had speed and flexibility – they would forever argue about whose stamina was better – though she was sure his conveniently timed stretches were more to catch his breath than to prevent injury.
Late mornings were set aside for a cup of tea and her Occlumency / Legilimency lessons. Hermione would come to dread these the most, mainly due to the vast importance of the skills in the face of the Dark Lord. One slip of a memory, one unacceptable thing and both she and Severus could be severely punished or worse, tortured and murdered as spies. It was the creation of false memories that she found particularly difficult, almost to the point of tears. Details of their courtship and conversations that never happened, they were the most complicated to build properly and convincingly. They were only three days into their two week stay at Spinner's End when, in a fit of rage, after three horrible attempts to construct a convincing memory, she lost it.
"Well then you show me your memories then!" she had screamed, with more force than she should have. "You show me a real one and a false one and let me understand the difference. Telling me I'm wrong isn't helping . . . . " she'd stopped in that moment only because she would have been overcome with emotion had she not.
At this point Severus considered her request with great interest. Perhaps it would be a good idea to allow her entry into his mind, he had after all insisted there be no secrets between them – he had admitted to her his most unforgivable of sins, what was there left to hide? He took hold of her elbows and pulled her closer to him, they were seated across from one another on stools, knees almost touching. The look in her eyes had been so rewarding to him in this moment, she had known without words that he had accepted her plea.
"Just be gentle." was all he said as he lowered her head to hers, aligned his dark eyes with her lighter ones.
"Legilimens," she whispered as she gently entered his mind. Upon entry she found herself in a hallway lined on both sides with open doors. Words could not describe how humbling it was to know that he was allowing her full access to his most private domain. Hermione did her best to not misinterpret this act as one of sweetness but more of survival. Either way she held out hope that eventually something more might blossom between them. She remembered his words on their wedding night, "Hermione if we are to survive this, there can be no secrets between us. Everything we have ever done, want to do. . . will do – must be known." She smiled subconsciously and thought, 'At least he is a man of his word.'
He had given her the keys to the castle, and she would certainly explore the depths of his memories further, however now she needed to focus on his contrived memories of their courtship and her seduction. At this thought she felt pulled towards a door down the hall and on the right, she walked in and there she saw it – a moment between them at 12 Grimmuald Place. It was a scene and a situation she knew well, it was from the summer as they had spent some time there. The memory was modified, though she only knew it because she had been there. She came a little bit closer to the scene so as to inspect it. They were in the kitchen, he had her pinned against the counter and the cabinets. In reality he had handed her a vial of medication for her shoulder, in this newly constructed memory they were speaking.
"And again Potter takes all of the credit for your work. How much longer will you let this go on?" Snape's voice was one of urgency and hinted at the fact that this was not their first discussion on the topic.
"He means well professor, he's just. . . ." Hermione tried to explain.
"He means well?" The annoyance in Snape's voice really showed through in this moment. "Potter means so well in fact that he would leave you hanging out to dry, leave you here to research, stuff you behind books, to rot. . . . . I on the other hand think you are capable of far greater things." At this Snape's hand began to move slowly up her thigh. Hermione had both a mix of excitement and fear on her face as he did it. Severus leaned his head in closer whispering lightly in her ear, "I've seen how you look at me in class Miss Granger, the way your eyes rove over my body, the way you suck in a bit more breath when I come near your cauldron...I've noticed it since your 5th year." A satisfied smile crossed Snape's face.
"But this is wrong," she stammered, though her body moved into his touch.
Severus took her hand and roughly placed it on his manhood, making sure she felt its full erect length. "Is it?" he questioned her in that low baritone voice she had come to enjoy over the years.
Hermione did not wait around for a response from this contrived memory, she had seen enough to understand the point of what Severus had been trying to tell her. Every good false memory has enough seeds of truth in them that they could be real. These seeds had to be just the right conversations, moments and facial expressions to come across as real. She would have to ask him later about his accusation regarding her in her 5th year… she had been under the impression that she had covered that up rather well. Her cheeks burned hot at the thought.
Then, as she was about ready to leave his mind, Hermione felt a tug in the direction of yet another open door. It was wide open, he had locked nothing to her explorations, so she gave into her curiosity and walked slowly down the hallway stopping in front of another memory. This one was different though, vastly different in that she was almost certain it was authentic. She found herself at Spinner's End in the living room. The only indication this memory took place several years previously was the 15-ish year old Severus Snape. The room itself was almost perfectly preserved as it had been all those years back. Whatever had made the older man in the house angry Hermione would never know, but he caught the tall skinny boy by the bicep and dragged him out of the house to an apple tree that was out in the yard overlooking a cliff.
Hermione followed them, her heart in her throat. The older man, who she assumed was Severus' father, was beating the young man, yelling and spitting at him. The words were jumbled, Hermione could understand little due to the crash of the waves and the thickness of old man's accent, though booze probably also played a role. Young Severus just lay there and took it, never making a sound and never closing his eyes. This seemed to enrage the older man further so that he took a knife from his pocket and began to threaten the boy.
'You're just as big as he is, why don't you do something?' This was all she could think as the older Snape plunged it into the side of the boy and pulled upward, blood flowed freely from the wound. Hermione knew this scar it had always drawn her attention and curiosity when they were intimate, as it was very prominent even against those inflicted by the Dark Lord. The memory faded as Severus lost consciousness.
When Hermione came back to her own mind she was still staring deeply into Severus' eyes. She pulled back slightly and with a hint of exasperation in her voice said, "Why did you let him do it?" the sight of the young man, never flinching as the knife began its downward plunge toward his body was one she would not soon forget.
"If I had done anything, he would have hurt my mother," Severus replied simply. "There are situations that arise in this life where accepting what is to come is more beneficial than the consequences of acting against them." He paused, looking at his young wife with a hint of sadness in his voice, "You would do well to remember this when we are in Voldemort's presence. Little did I know my father would teach me a skill that would serve me so well now."
Hermione could not yet grasp the gravity of these words; she could only nod in acceptance of his point.
For his part Severus could not have been more pleased with Hermione's progress over the two weeks they would spend together at Spinner's End. He had not doubted this, she had always taken on any task handed to her with extreme focus and determination – with that she had always achieved above average results. No, he had always expected she would put herself 100% into anything set before her, it was how she approached their own relationship that surprised him. It was the way that she was worming her way into his thinking and being that unnerved him.
He had wrongfully assumed that their passionate wedding night had been a fluke, an attempt to make the best of a poor situation or the curiosity and lust of a young, inexperienced woman taking what was given to her. It had never occurred to him that she was actually attracted to him to the extent that she truly was in both body and mind. Severus found himself, against the screaming of his gut feelings, looking forward to their evenings together. After their long training days they would discuss varying academic subjects, wizarding politics and strategy as he prepared dinner. They would digest while drinking some wine near the fireplace and share things from their past. It never ceased to amaze Severus how much he was willing to open up to her, even about his less than comfortable teenaged years with the Marauders. He had never done this with anyone and by the looks of it, neither had she. Hermione lit up his long loveless house with radiating warmth he didn't think could exist. Her heartfelt laughter filled their home and slowly but surely awaked a part of Severus that had been long dormant.
In the bedroom her curiosity knew no bounds. Her thirst for knowledge lead them down some deliciously naughty paths. The glint in her eye when she had a particular position she wanted to try, or the rather cute way she kicked her left leg out when she was close to orgasm were such precious gifts that she did not even know she was giving. Over their two weeks together they had explored some light BDSM, looked through some Kama sutra books and began to talk more openly about their perceived and true fetishes. She had coyly asked him about experimenting with anal intercourse – he did well to keep his jaw from dropping on the floor. The amount of trust and desire she had for him was astounding and he had sworn to himself he would do nothing to break this. Yes, the gods did indeed have a sense of humor – keeping him alone, bitter and unhappy all these years – then dropping a young lady basically made to his tastes right in his lap.
Upon their return to Hogwarts they both agreed to connect their flues so as to keep their marriage discrete as Hermione finished her final year, while being able to spend more time together. It was then that Severus actually began to feel fear, though it no longer had to do with any insecurity about their personal bond. Nor did it have to do with her ability to defend herself, or him, against what would inevitably come their way. He began to fear how she might change once she was pulled into the Death Eater fray. She would undoubtedly have to engage in unspeakable acts of cruelty and also endure them as he had, and this notion worried him more than he would care to admit. For if there was one thing he could not prepare her for it was this feeling, the feeling of understanding what you are fully capable of doing to save yourself from the wrath of the Dark Lord. He didn't want to loose her, her laughter, her smile. So as they resumed their daily lives as Professor Severus Snape, Potions Master of Hogwarts and Hermione Granger, Head Girl and Princess Gryffindor, Severus did so with a heavy heart.
Hermione knew immediately when she entered Severus' dungeon chambers that evening via flue that they had been summoned. The casual observer would not have noticed a difference in Severus' demeanor, the way his scowl held a slightly different angle or how his shoulders were more tense and upright than normal – but Hermione was no casual observer of the stern Potions Master, she was his wife. She simply cocked her head to the side in a silent question to which he responded, "We have been summoned to a holiday party at Malfoy manor, tonight."
It had taken much longer than she had expected to get summoned. It was early December, two months after their wedding. If anything she had expected this call sooner and yet her stomach clenched and her throat went dry, though she did her best to hide it. "I see. Well, then I guess I had better get. . . ." but before she could finish her sentence Severus came to her, placing both hands on her shoulders.
"Are you ready for this?" He asked looking deep into her gold-flecked eyes.
She inhaled, "I don't have a choice, do I?" she smiled despite herself, they had been training for this moment. If she wasn't ready now, then when?
Severus nodded, "Remember two things tonight. No matter how much I want to intervene, I will not be able to. I must be cold and heartless, even toward you." She nodded in understanding. "Second, never forget you are my wife and that gives you status amongst the Death Eaters. You are not lower than any other, though they will want you to think so. Should one try to harm you, threaten you. . . .anything, you have my support to defend yourself. Don't hesitate and kill if necessary."
Hermione was surprised to hear this, but it gave her a sense of calm. Certain things she knew she would have to take, hardships she would have to endure being a Mudblood in the company of Death Eaters, but at least she could do something about it. She forced a smile and then moved from his grasp. "I need to get ready," she breathed.
It did not take her long to find a jet-black satin ball gown, deeply cut in the front with sable trim around the neck and wrists. Her movements were almost mechanical as she put it on, smoothed the wrinkles of the fabric in the mirror and began to apply a small bit of makeup. Hermione felt a little pressure to appear older than she was. It would be the first time she and Severus would attend a function together as husband and wife, and this awakened a feeling in her to not disappoint him. She was being put in a situation where she was set up to fail, it was this aspect that made her nervous. So nervous and preoccupied in fact that she did not notice Severus behind her, not until his warm hand rested lightly on her shoulder.
She took a deep intake of breath when she felt his hand, "Oh, you frightened me." He was already dressed in his formal robes, dark and foreboding, as he normally was.
"Don't feel that you need to paint your face on my account," he leaned closer so as to whisper in her ear, "You are stunning enough as you are." He kissed her then on the cheek, leaving her to go sit in the study.
Hermione smiled, feeling a flush creep into her face. He was right, makeup wasn't going to make her more favorable in the Dark Lord's eyes anyway. With a sigh and a quick shrug of her shoulders she wiped off a bit of the eye shadow she had started and then settled on some mascara and a little blush. Such silly things to be concerned about considering the magnitude of it all.
As she walked in the study Severus couldn't help but let a slight gasp escape his lips. She was stunning, a beauty mixed with brains that he couldn't have combined better had you asked him to. Death Eaters were a jealous type and she would certainly inspire ire from the women and desire in the men, he would have to be particularly on his toes tonight. He rose to meet her, offering his arm and they walked, disillusioned of course, to the end of the school grounds. Severus said nothing, he just took her in one last time with his eyes, committing her innocent look and expressive face to memory. She would be different after tonight and there was no way he could have prepared her for that. Sweeping her up in his cloak, they apparated to Malfoy manner in a single almost silent pop.
Malfoy manor was an exceptionally beautiful place, given that you removed the stench of dead bodies and the sounds of screams from the entire grounds. It was clear that the Dark Lord had made himself at home here and much to the chagrin of its owners, Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. Severus and Hermione were greeted at the door, though more attention was lavished on him. She was treated as a leper of sorts, which suited her just fine for the time being. As they turned through the halls of the old and distinguished mansion, there were sneers, laughter and outright cat calls of 'Mudblood', 'Slut' and 'Dirty' thrown her way. 'Sticks and stones', she reminded herself as they made their way to the dining hall.
The dining hall was enormous, with high vaulted ceilings, a long table to seat 70, and paintings all around. They were dark portraits of family members, all staring at Hermione with either disgust or great interest. There were also the groans of tortured wizards and Muggles alike coming from the dark corners of the otherwise immaculate room, like a twisted soundtrack to a horror film. Hermione did her best to drown it out, to not let her heart take control of her feelings or actions. Severus led them to the table near the head, but before they were able to sit the piercing voice of Bellatrix LeStrange come from behind them. "No no, we've made a special place for Mudbloods over there." A cackle erupting from her pale throat.
Hermione turned her head in the direction of Bellatrix's long pointy finger. There, scrawled on the wall in what she presumed to be blood, was the word 'Mudblood' with a chained collar fixed to the wall and a dog bowl for both water and food. Without looking at Severus, she left his side and went to the corner, where an over eager Death Eater fixed the collar to her throat with a devious laugh. The chain holding the collar was too short for her to stand, so she knelt in her beautiful satin ball gown on the floor staring at the the full dinner table from a medium proximity.
Severus eyed Bellatrix with a dark stare as she took the seat next to him, clearly satisfied with herself. She had always had a bit of jealousy for the women Severus favored. Though she claimed to only desire the Dark Lord, he would tuck this little piece of information away for later. He didn't dare look in Hermione's direction, to show too much affection for the girl would be to seal an even worse fate for her this evening. Instead he inhaled deeply and took to talking with his fellow Death Eaters and eating. The Dark Lord rarely came to this stage of the events, being only a shadow of a human he didn't need food to sustain himself. He would be watching though, observing his servants with elevated interest. Severus knew he would be paying particular interest to the dynamic between him and the woman he had chosen as his bride. He had already damned the poor girl enough, he would do his best to avoid doing any more damage than necessary.
Hermione's stomach growled at the smell of food and it wasn't long before a half eaten chicken bone was flung her way, then some peas. The greens had managed to stick into her hair, the bone had bounced just in reach. It was painfully obvious what she was expected to do, but how far to play the game was a clear question. As more odds and ends of the meal came her way, staining her dress and building a greasy pool around her, she pondered the pros and cons of taking the food. She was by no means an animal and yet, if she didn't have enough nutrients to actually perform this evening, that would not be good. Somehow the decision was so easy and yet that little defiant voice in her head told her to throw it back at them, hit the ugly Death Eater with the bulbous nose right between the eyes. 'Calm, calm. She said to herself, these battles are not worth fighting. Swallow it, remember the mean ones and swallow it.'
Regrettably she put the bone to her lips and at what little meat was on it. It was met with a loud "Wuff wuff" from the crowd, who began laughing, pointing and name calling. Severus did not turn to where the 'show' was, he knew what she had done and he was relieved. 'First hurdle done,' he thought as he continued with his meal. 'She will do well to eat now given what is yet to come.
It was the ringing of the bells that signaled an unceremonious end to their meal. The Death Eaters filed from the dining hall to the ballroom, passing Hermione as if she were nothing more than furniture. It was Severus who vanished her collar and helped her to her feet. Her knees were in pain and throbbing from sitting on the floor for such a long span of time. She looked into his eyes only briefly to see what was next and was greeted with a severe tone, "Clean yourself up, you'll be meeting the Dark Lord soon." Hermione wasn't sure if it was the deepness of the sneer on his face or the vitriol with which he said it that hurt her the most. The minions of Voldemort could call her what they wanted and degrade her in any which way, but for him to do it cut more deeply than she could have realized. They had discussed this before, that he must be harsh with her, otherwise their charade might be found out. She had prepared for this, but it still made her heart sink to hear those words pass his lips. Hermione turned her head away from him and with a wave of her wand she restored herself to how she had looked before she was chained in the corner. Severus looked her over once with an appraising eye and nodded. She followed him into the Grand Ballroom of the Malfoy Mansion, with more than a little apprehension as to what was to come.
The glaring white of the marble floor and columns of the Grand Ballroom provided a stark contrast to the events that would transpire that evening. There was a band warming up in the background and an air of tension and excitement as the guests of the Dark Lord entered the room. Severus lightly pushed Hermione to a part of the room where she would garner the least amount of harassment, an area at the back of the slowly forming crowd usually inhabited by those Death Eaters who did not want to be there. He, however, moved with the flow of people to take his seat at the right hand of the Dark Lord's throne, Lucius at the left hand. 'They could not be any more different than night and day', Hermione mused to herself as she stood on her tiptoes to see above the crowd.
The room fell silent as the side doors burst open and Lord Voldemort part slithered, part walked to his place at the head of the room. She could not help but be struck by how unnatural his movements were and by how monstrous he looked. She had known from her early years at Hogwarts that he had once been a rather beautiful man. But all the beauty and talent in the world could not give him what he truly wanted, power and immortality. To see him now was to look upon a creature that had resigned all humanity and used it to chase a pipe dream, a vision of reality that no wizard in history had achieved. It all seemed such a waste of lives and energy to sustain this half life he was living.
"Well, well my honored guests it is wonderful to see you all here." The Dark Lord hissed as he picked up his robes and sat on his throne. Severus and Lucius followed suit.
"I am sure you all would like to start the party as soon as possible." He grinned that inhuman devilish grin that Harry often had nightmares about, then continued. "I believe we have a new pet." A chuckle came from the crowd. "Oh, Mudblood! Here little bitty Mudblood."
Any concerns that Hermione may have had about pushing to the front of the crowd vanished as the sea of people opened up, allowing her entry to the front of the ballroom. She couldn't help but shake a little as she found the courage to move her legs one in front of the other. Her mouth was dry and her cheeks were surly red from having been summoned by Voldemort. She took her time making her way to the platform where Lord Voldemort and his two most trusted followers were. Hermione could feel eyes raking over her and could sense the diversity of feelings in the room. Some despised her, others were curious while some licked their lips at the thought of either killing her or raping her. Despite this she looked straight ahead, head high and dress flowing behind her. When she made it to the front of the room she knelt, as Severus had taught her, casting her eyes to the floor and said, "My Lord."
"Oh, I see our dog has already started her obedience lessons." The crowd roared with laughter. "So tell me Mudblood, what brings you into my service? You can guess this is all a bit strange for us. Something like you wanting to join our ranks…" Voldemort sat back and crossed his legs casually, his beady red eyes penetrating Hermione.
She trembled as she eventually found her voice, "I...I have never been given the respect or recognition I deserve from Harry, Ron or Professor Dumbledore. All the things I do to aid them to help them understand the world around them and magic go without gratitude. It's all for 'the boy who lived'." She lifted her eyes slightly to see if what she was saying resonated in anyway with her hostile crowd. It seemed to be ok, so she continued. "Severus showed me how I could use my powers for myself, how I can serve a greater purpose and have a chance to be thanked for it."
The dark figure that was more beast than man contemplated her words for a moment, then, as if coming across something particularly juicy, his facial expression turned into one that could be considered a sneer, "So it is your loyalty and trust in your husband that brings you to me is it?"
"Yes my Lord."
"Wrong, it is your loyalty and trust to me!" The demon spat back at her. Then pointing his wand directly at her chest, "Crucio!"
Severus fought hard against sucking in his breath as he watched Hermione writhe in pain to the soundtrack of a mad man's laughter. It would not be the last time he would see her tortured by the Dark Lord. He would have to get used to it, and yet as hard as he fought to contain his anger the more he could feel it build inside. He had always viewed most aspects of his life, particularly the people in them, with indifference. Indifference had kept his mind intact, his emotions in check and his soul from breaking. She, however, would be the undoing of this, he could see it already as his anger built so strongly in his chest that he felt like it might burst.
Hermione gathered herself as quickly as she could, given the shaking and pain her body was currently experiencing. 'Okay that was clearly the wrong answer.' She knelt down again, doing her best to digest the pain and focus her mind.
"It is that trust and loyalty that must be proven to me tonight Mudblood." The creature grinned, "Bring out the boy!"
The side doors to the ballroom flung open and dragged through the crowd toward the center of the room was a screaming boy. Hermione didn't dare turn her head or body to look behind her, but she gathered from the voice and the fear in it that he couldn't have been more than 10 or 12.
"You see, what we have here my children are two abominations of wizarding kind." Voldemort's voice took on a more fatherly tone, "We have a Mudblood, with no wizarding blood in her at all. She attempts to walk among us, be one of us, marry one of us even...yet in the end she will never be like us, she will lessen our blood, contaminate it."
There were groans and calls erupting from the crowd at this. It took a swift hand motion from their dark leader to quiet them. "Then we have a Squib, an abomination of a pure blood family. Pure blood and no magical power."
All the sudden a shout could be heard from the crowd, "My nephew!" At this sudden shock Hermione and the entire crowd turned to see Mr. Flint. She knew him from school, he was the father of Marcus Flint from Slytherin house. She didn't really have an opinion on either of them, but now she pitied them, as the shouts and calls from the crowd had nearly equaled her own.
"Mudblood rise." The Dark Lord ordered. "Now, show me your true loyalty, torture and kill this pathetic excuse for a wizard."
Hermione's stomach sank and she felt weak in the knees as she rose. She and Severus had prepared for this moment, but never had it crossed either of their minds that she would be asked to kill a child. The Dark Lord asked many things of many people, but she didn't know if she could. She took a deep breath and tried to shut out the barrage of noises coming from the ballroom. He was testing her and Severus in one go. If she refused he would punish her and Severus twice as hard, the thought of that made her blood run cold and her mouth dry. To kill the boy would be to prove her loyalty but to mark her soul, to cross a bridge both socially and mentally that she would never be able to cross again. She would have to decide quickly, to wait too long would be to draw the ire of Lord Voldemort. It surprised her how the murkiness of her choice became so clear so fast, she didn't know what that meant or what it made her. The thought of her and Severus being torn apart, the thought of him hurting made her turn around and point her wand squarely at the boy and say, "Sectumsempra".
The scream of pain and the blood that appeared made the crowd go wild. Fighting back tears and the trembling of her bottom lip she yelled, "Crucio". Her victim curled in pain, his blonde hair matted, he blue eyes begging her to stop. He was crawling away from her, toward an angry crowd who would see him dead. She could feel her heart catch in her throat as she again used, "Crucio".
From atop the raised platform Severus could gain an accurate assessment of the mood of the crowd and that of the Dark Lord. She was doing well. He didn't know what her mental state would be like after the fact, but for now she was doing what she needed to do to survive...and he was again relieved. She struck him again and again, cheers came from the crowd and screams from the young boy's throat. To watch this scene made him remember his induction into the Death Eaters, now many years ago. He had been about her age, perhaps slightly younger, he had been asked to rape and kill a Muggle girl. She was red haired and beautiful - she hadn't deserved anything of what was done to ther that night. The Dark Lord had known of his love and desire for Lilly Potter in years past, and had picked this precisely for this reason. Watching Hermione use all he had taught her to inflict pain and suffering on this child, brought a flood of emotions and memories from this time back. It had hardened him, changed him and as he looked now, he knew it wouldn't be much different for his young wife. 'It will be over soon my dear, just a little longer.'
The boy was so broken now, battered and bruised that it was hard to recognize his once beautiful face. Hermione stood over him, her sight blurred by tears, knowing that she would have to finish what she started. Knowing that to cast the final blow would be to take not one life but two. This boy, her own, both would be changed for the pure joy of a lunatic. She cleared her eyes with her free hand, she wanted to see his face, she needed to remember him, "Avera Kadaver."
The crowd jeered and she heard words of encouragement and anger as she found her way to the front of the room and again kneeled. She avoided Severus' indifferent gaze, for to look upon him now would be to lose the cracking facade she had created. Though before the Dark Lord could proceed a scream was heard from the crowd, "You killed my nephew you filthy cunt of a Mudblood!"
The voice had come from behind her, she knew it was coming closer, that Mr. Flint had broken through the people who had been holding him back. She remembered Severus' words to her as they left for the party, that she should defend herself against any attack from another. Even if in this moment she felt like she didn't deserve to live, the urge to live, the desire - made her adrenaline kick in. She remained kneeling until she could sense he was near enough to attack her, then turning she whipped her wand around her head, forming a whip with several tails. As she cracked it on the man, her curls flying wildly around her head, it left burn marks on the man's clothing and body. But he would not be so easily put into place. He countered her, a few quick spells to break her concentration then to create an opening. His third spell shot toward Hermione missing her by only a couple of inches.
'Keep your head on straight', she told herself.
His attacks were coming hard and their intent was clear, he meant to kill. Hermione dodged in the ever tightening circle of Death Eaters surrounding them. She kicked off her heels and returned with some of her own spells, pushing him back with some quickly built defenses. Severus remained torn as to whether to intervene. Theoretically he had a right to, Flint Sr. was far out of line going against the Dark Lord's wishes, and yet every bit more she fought the more she was showing these lunatic, narcissistic pure bloods how good she was. Flint could kill her for sure and the chances were somewhat in his favor. It was obvious now as he hit her with a few hard hitting curses. If she could win, it would only reinforce her status in the pecking order. So Severus waited, feeling the rush of adrenaline surge through his veins and keeping the twitch of his wand hand in check.
Her heart was pounding through her chest as Hermione dodged yet another killing curse. This seemed to be the only thing he was throwing at her in all of his anger and while she couldn't say she was in the best state of mind possible, she was not blinded by hatred either. She drew in breath, hoping that if she could bend him to submission, that perhaps she could avoid killing him. She didn't want to kill again, even if this time it was to protect her own life. She waited, doing her best to keep her cool, her adrenaline keeping her mind clear. 'There!' Flint had taken a moment inbetween casting to catch a quick breath and that was when she struck. She bound him quickly with a body binding spell and watched his wand topple to the floor. Though before she could silence him he cast a wandless spell, and three daggers flew her way. Two missed her nicking her right ear and passing through the folds of her skirt, but the last stuck in her arm. She roared in pain, feeling it slice her flesh. Though without thinking she pulled it from her bicep, flipped it in the air so she caught the blade end and threw it at him, hitting Flint between the eyes.
There was silence, Hermione witnessed the sickening display of Flint Sr.'s eyes rolling back in his head as blood flowed from his wound. She saw the bound man, who had been standing upright, fall like a sack of potatoes to the floor and gargle until he drew his last breath. Holding her arm and feeling quite faint, she knelt down once more. The magnitude of what had just happened had not quite hit her as she stared blankly at the floor in front of the platform, waiting to be dismissed.
Voldemort turned his head to Severus and nodded his budding approval. She had put on quite a show for his amusement and had not disappointed. Hermione came out as she always did, on top. Though it would come at great cost. There were no words to describe his relief as the Dark Lord unceremoniously dismissed her, ordered the band to start playing and asked for the ballroom to be cleaned up. Seeing she was slow to get up Severus walked to her in the commotion and helped pick her up from the floor. He never stayed too long for such things and seeing that she was injured, he had even more reason to drag her back to Hogwarts as soon as possible. Pulling her body close to him, he supported her as he rushed her out of the ballroom and toward the apparition point. She was weak in the knees and he could feel her start to convulse, "Don't do this, not now! We are so close, just a few more steps."
He could feel the warmth of her blood on his white formal shirt, could sense she was exhausted, scared, confused, disgusted and everything inbetween. He had to get her home and quickly. As they made it to the apparition point he turned her to him and wrapped her in his cape and it was with a hurried pop that they left Lord Voldemort's macabre holiday party.
The moment her feet touched the ground outside of Hogwarts Hermione fell to her knees and threw up. She heaved twice before she found some control. Not caring who saw or if their cover as mere student and teacher would be blown. Severus wiped the the corners of her mouth with his robes and scooping her up hurriedly with both arms made his way across the school grounds toward the dungeons.
Once inside their dungeon chambers, Severus placed his precious cargo on the rug in front of the fireplace so she could stay warm. After the adrenaline would leave her body she would go into shock, not from her wound, but from what had transpired. It was a feeling that Severus knew all too well, the guilt, pain and disgust that came with taking a life. It was the hardest now and she would have to go through, 'But how much of herself will she have sacrificed?'
Severus shook his head, there was no time to think of such things now. She was staring at the floor, her eyes glazed over and her skin clammy - she needed him and this wasn't the time to let her down. He quickly examined her wound ripping further her already torn evening gown, no nerves or arteries were damaged. The bleeding had stopped and she would heal, one less thing to worry about. Throwing his heavy dress robes over her for warmth, he did what came to his mind first, he drew her a bath. She loved baths, often spending an abhorrent amount of time in them, but perhaps this could be the first step to bringing her back from her dark spiral.
He drew her a warm bath with rose oils and went back to the living area to claim her. She hadn't moved a muscle since he had deposited her there a few moments before. Gently he undressed her, removing her once beautiful black party dress, now marred by blood stains and gashes. Gently putting her in the tub, he rolled up his sleeves and sat on a stool at the tub's edge, so as to better wash her. Severus was amazed at how deeply it hurt him to see her that way, how much it affected him in ways he could not have fathomed. He contemplated these things as he ran a soapy sponge slowly and methodically over her neck and chest. Lifting her strong yet delicate arms so as to wash the blood, and hopefully memories of this day away. He marveled at the smoothness of her skin, the rounding of the tips of her fingers, of the slight heave of her chest as she breathed. He didn't want to lose her. He'd grown accustomed to her smile, her laughter, to the way she annoyed him with all of her silly quirks. 'Don't give up my dear, I need you.'
As we wrapped her in a towel and carried her into the bedroom she had barely blinked or even recognized he was there. He sat her cross ways on his lap so as to better dry her, when he was suddenly taken with the desire to hum. It was a song he had not thought of in many years, something his mother had sung to him as a child. He couldn't remember the words, he just knew that the few good memories he had could be traced back to this particular song. So he hummed in soft desperation to his young wife, who sat there not saying a word. He dried her slowly and gently, then he began to brush her hair. He brought the brush through her riotous curls with relative ease and embraced the sense of fulfillment it gave him to do something so deeply intimate for her.
He couldn't be sure how long he had been combing through her hair and humming when she finally broke her silence. "If I hadn't done it, would the boy have been killed anyway?"
"Yes." Severus answered after a long pause, it was simple and matter of fact. He would not lie to her.
She nodded, a look of devastation and self loathing still on her face, so he added, "Never forget him, Hermione. Remember him as best you can because he will be what keeps you sane, what keeps you focused in this fight against...against pure evil." This seemed to calm her slightly.
"And Flint he would have…" she began, but Severus stopped her.
"Do not shed a tear for him." He said looking into her eyes, holding them in his. "Flint Sr. has raped and killed more Muggle boys and girls than I care to recall. He was a foul excuse for a human being and you did the world some justice." He paused to see if she was still listening. He could see the gleam in her eye and continued, "The boy...Hermione I know…"
"I did it for us." She blurted out before he could finish. "I thought of all the things he might do to you or to us and I made a choice."
Her eyes were so opened so wide and the look on her face was one of almost pure innocence that he couldn't help but kiss her then. Her lips felt so good to him and it was to his surprise that she returned his kiss with passion and vigor.
It was now that Hermione needed Severus more than ever. She needed him to prove, despite all the terrible things she had done and the pain she had inflicted on others, that he still cared for her. She needed to know that he didn't think of her as a monster, but instead a creature worthy of affection, perhaps even love. Hermione savored the taste of his lips, one that always seemed to have a tinge of spice to them, making them exotic. She ran her fingers through his thick black hair as he shifted her naked body so she was lying on their bed, her bare chest to his clothed one. The Dark Lord used so many strategies and emotions to control his minions, fear of death and pain inflicted on loved ones being at the top. However Hermione would counteract this with love, with desire with the strengthening of a bond, not the destruction of it. She felt, if anything, more resolve toward their collective goal of defeating the Dark Lord, of bringing him down. But perhaps, above all, she felt closer to Severus in a way she had not known possible. They shared something now, something that was theirs, and theirs alone.
Severus' breathing intensified as she urgently and impatiently pulled at his trousers. He knew this feeling well, the want to balance out a terrible act with a good one. Her need was so urgent that he didn't even bother to unclothe himself, opening his trousers and exposing himself in one motion. Hermione wasted no time drawing him inside of her. As she moaned and he could feel her wetness close around him, Severus couldn't shake the notion that something had changed. While he moved inside her, kissing her jawline and feeling her fingers dig deeply through his blood-stained clothing something became abundantly clear to him. He had not been in love with Hermione as they had married. Their bonding had been one done out of necessity, out of a need to attain collective goals...out of a need to survive. Though the thought of having a sexual playmate half his age was exciting to him, he had not loved her.
However after tonight, after watching her at her both finest and lowest points, to see her strength, her power, her resourcefulness, her devotion to them as a unit, he couldn't help but find himself falling in love with the woman Hermione was becoming. He couldn't help but look forward with an almost uncontained excitement to the woman she would be. Their love was a strange twisted thing, but it was, and would forever be, uniquely theirs. He took a moment to look down at her face, her eyes closed, her cheeks flushed and her mouth moving toward the vocal release of her orgasim. Gone forever was the girl he had known in class, the girl he had quickly married and taught how to fight. Her release was so sweet, so needed and when she opened her eyes, moving a stray strand of his black hair behind his ear, he knew the woman that lay before him was fierce and worth fighting for. It was then that the words just tumbled out, "I love you." And there was nothing more in this life he wanted to do than to fight for her and by her side.
Hermione smiled at his words, it was so rare that he did not have control of them, that to catch him in a moment such as this was exceptionally rare. It was also humbling. She had not fully realized what she was capable of and for what end before this baptism in blood. What she had been shown this night, as she lost herself in her husband's onyx eyes bearing her soul to him, was that she could and would do anything for those she cared about. She promised herself this night that no matter what the cost, she would do whatever she could to get them both out of this mess alive.