Anything recognizable is the property of J.K. Rowling. I do not make any claim to ownership, nor do I make any money from this.
Please do not read if you are not of legal age in your country. This is not a happy go lucky romantic story. There is less than consensual sex in this story.
The Dark Lord's Call
Severus hissed when he unexpectedly felt the Dark Mark burn on his forearm. He laid down the book he was reading and fetched his robes and mask. He stared at the silver filigree on the piece of metal and frowned. The potions master tired of the game with the Dark Lord and wanted nothing more than for the war to be over. Not for his sake, his soul was beyond salvaging, but for all the innocents and children caught up in it.
As he left his dungeon chambers, he vaguely thought of the golden trio. He scoffed inwardly at the name. As loathed as he was to admit it, Severus acknowledged that Harry was a fundamentally good person. Ron, however, was a complete waste of skin. But Hermione was truly special.
He smirked his way across the grounds. She could become a powerful witch to rival even Dumbledore, if she could escape the war unharmed. If he had to pick anyone to eventually become head of Hogwarts, he would chose the fairest of the trio.
Securing his mind, Severus apperated to the Dark Lord's call.
He knelt, barring his neck to Voldemort before straightening and observing the rest of the room. A group of Death Eaters surrounded someone laying on the floor, their wands pointed at the still form. Voldemort sighed, pleased with the showing and rose from his high backed chair.
"Thank you everyone for coming, I particularly wanted you here for this Severus."
The group of black robed men pulled away from their sport on the floor and watched their master. "Fenrir surprised me greatly. He returned from scouting with a pleasing gift."
The werewolf bowed, grinning at the praise. As the hulk of a man moved, Severus could make out who was laying on the cold stone floor. He resolutely stayed impassive as he recognized Hermione Granger and the Dark Lord cast a cruciatus curse on her. All of the muscles in her body tensed, pulling painfully on joints and ligaments. It took several minutes for her to allow a groan of pain past her lips. Only then did Voldemort release the spell and turn towards the potion master.
"One of Dumbledore's flock I believe. A close friend of Harry Potter and one of your own students. Am I right?"
"Yes, my Lord." Severus shuddered inside at the thought of what the evil man could make him do.
"I want you to break her. Have your fun with her and send her back as a warning that we are going to war." The Dark Lord's eyes gleamed at Snape as Bellatrix leaned close to his elbow.
"Oh my Lord, may I join in the sport?" She begged, giddy with the thought of torturing the brunette.
"You have plenty to play with. Let Severus have his way without you or Lucius spoiling it. Go on Severus, take her in the other room while we enjoy some of the fresh muggles in here."
"Thank you, my Lord." The professor bowed and tried to sound pleased.
He curled his lip at the quivering woman laying on the floor, hopping she was unconscious. As soon as he levitated her though, she opened her eyes and glared at him. Once they were secured in a nearby bedroom he dropped her on the bed and stood by the door.