Warning to readers: This is not a pretty story. It is graphic, and it is gruesome. I wrote this for a darkfic challenge. There is slash, noncon, and character death. Adults only.

The Painful Kiss Goodnight

I've been meticulous in my preparations. Tonight is the beginning of the end.

I kiss my lovely wife goodbye in the usual manner, making sure that she doesn't know anything is amiss. She is off to see her lover, in guise of a trip to Flourish and Blotts.

I can imagine the two of them rutting like depraved animals, filling the room with the smell of sex. I can see his face twisted as though in pain, his hips snapping forward, as he makes my wife scream obscenities. She lays there like a doll, allowing him to position her, to fuck what is mine.

Afterward, she will come home to me with a cheerful smile. She'll kiss my lips sweetly and pull me upstairs to the bedroom. She'll ride me like a demon possessed, trying to absolve herself by giving me pleasure.

What a little slut, my Hermione.

Then I will allow her to cuddle up next to me, her leg thrown casually over mine. She will smell of Jasmine and something forbidden. She won't have bathed between lays.

Dirty little whore, my Hermione.

As always, I will be the one to prepare dinner. I'll make her favorite meal, and pair it with her favorite wine. Of course the wine will be laced with Veritaserum. She will blurt out her naughty little indiscretions –all of which I already know. I will sit and listen attentively as she spills the truth from between her traitorous lips.

She'll tell me that she's fucking Potter and loving every minute of it.

She will have no idea what this news has already done to me, or what it will do to her in the coming hours.

The children are with Molly Weasley tonight. They won't be here to witness the punishment to come. I wouldn't want them to live with memories such as these.

It is nearly time for me to retrieve the final ingredient for tonight's exhibition.

I pull on a dark cloak and leave through the front door, stepping out into the dismal weather of Spinner's End.

It is far easier than I'd imagined it would be. He is asleep, his unruly black hair tousled. The seedy hotel room does smell of my wife's cunt.

Ah, the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Regret-Fucking-My-Wife.

I have no love for the idiot man-child. I cast insidious little spells over his sleeping form. I whisper things in his ear that will wind their way into his dreams.

When I've finished, he rises like a zombie, and I direct his clumsy movements with my wand. He dresses himself, and accompanies me to the Apparition point.

We arrive outside my ancestral home, and I take him down to the basement. I tie his hands and feet to a St. Andrew's cross. I bare his backside and begin my work.

I slice his skin to ribbons with my wand and collect his blood in a jar. I drop the enchantments so that he can feel every bit of pain. He screams apologies. I ignore him.

His young body quivers. The site of his blood is not satisfying enough for me. I want him to feel what it is that he has done to me.

I pull a phial from within my robes and drink the Potion down. The effects are instantaneous. My cock rises to attention, scraping the inside of my wool trousers. I undress quietly before pressing my body against his backside.

"This is what it feels like, Mr. Potter."

I place my cock at his entrance and force my way inside with one brutal thrust. He vomits because the pain is too much.

I have no desire for this fuckwit but the potion allows me to keep it up until my muscles are cramping in protest.

I withdraw, panting with exertion.

He is weeping soundlessly now, having lost his voice.

I Scourgify my skin, and redress in my customary attire.

I say nothing to assuage his fears or give him the slightest bit of comfort. I leave him in the basement.

I make it upstairs just in time to see my wife arrive home.

"Oh, Severus! You should have gone with me today!"

I sit on the sofa and cross my legs. "Why is that, Hermione?"

"They just got a new shipment of titles. I picked up a few books for you while I was there."

I glance at the books she bought to use as a cover story.

"Thank you," I tell her, taking the books and placing them on the coffee table.

She leans forward and kisses me.

I fight the urge to draw away, instead returning her affection.

"You know I missed you today, Sev."

"Is that so?"

"Yes. I could scarcely wait to get home," she says seductively, straddling me. She rubs her damp crotch against mine.

Slut.

"I take it you have something in mind?"

"Mmm. I want you to take me upstairs and fuck me."

I say nothing, but gently push her off of me, and stand. I walk up the stairs and hear her following behind me.

I walk into our suite and sit on the edge of our marital bed.

She undresses slowly, giving me a striptease.

It does nothing for me. Luckily the potion is still at work.

She walks forward sexily and begins to undress me. I allow her to pull my clothes off one piece at a time, not assisting her in her endeavor.

She's a tad flustered with my lack of movement, but I know it won't matter. This little game is routine. She will climb on top of me and ride me until she comes.

She pushes me down onto the bed, and positions herself over my stiff cock. She slides down on it easily.

Normally the site of her little quim swallowing my cock is highly erotic. This time, it only angers me.

She bounces with abandon, her eyes closed.

I wonder if she is imagining Potter beneath her.

Fury grabs me with a vice-like grip. There is a roaring in my ears. I'm losing focus.

My hands grip her hips.

Her eyes snap open.

"Ow, Sev. Not so tight!"

I cannot relax my fingers.

I begin to guide her movements, and thrusting up to meet her. I pummel her with my cock as hard as I can.

"Severus! Stop it, you're hurting me!"

"Shut up!" I snarl.

I let her go and she scrambles away from me. I reach out and grab her ankle, pulling her back.

"What are you doing?" She cries out in shock.

I position her so that she is on her stomach, her plump arse facing me. I've never done this to her before. She's never allowed it.

I don't particularly care.

I settle my weight on the backs of her thighs, and expose her completely.

"This will hurt," I warn her, before shoving my cock into her opening.

She screams and twists, trying to get away. With grim determination I continue until she tires of fighting me and goes limp, sobbing into her pillow.

I withdraw once I see myself covered in her blood and wipe my cock on the coverlet.

She stays still, panting on the bed, tears still coursing down her cheeks. She looks back at me, betrayal in her eyes.

"How could you?" She whispers in anguish.

"You are my wife," I inform her coldly.

"That doesn't mean you can rape me!" She shouts at me hysterically.

I dress myself slowly before turning to face her. "I am going to prepare dinner. You will come down in half an hour and eat with me. We will discuss this later."

She gapes at me, clearly outraged. "You cannot dictate to me, Severus Snape!"

"I've placed Anti-Apparition wards on the house, and I've taken your wand. You will do as I say."

I leave the room with calm dignity but clench my teeth at the sound of glass hitting the door and shattering. I walk downstairs and begin dinner preparations.

I know she is angry. She is testing the wards I placed on the house, trying to leave the Muggle way. She will have no success. It is only a matter of time before she tries the Floo. That has been temporarily disabled. I even took the precaution of severing the phone line.

I prepare dinner methodically, trying to not think of my wife upstairs. There is a leaden weight in my stomach. It feels a lot like guilt.

I wonder if she feels guilty for what she's done.

I shall know soon enough.

My wife does not appear for dinner. It is not surprising. I place the tip of my wand to my wedding band. It grows hot. I know that her ring is heating as well. I let it burn, and grip the table against the onslaught of pain. It is searing my finger. I know that Hermione is stubborn so I keep it up until I hear her scream.

She appears moments later, red-faced, and clutching her hand to her chest. "You bastard!"

"It is rude to be late to dinner. Sit," I order.

She sits across from me glaring.

I eat at a leisurely pace, enjoying the good food. I gulp down the wine that is in my glass.

"Ugh!"

She cannot stand it when I do that. I do it deliberately to goad her.

"When will you drink wine the proper way?"

"Why don't you show me how," I say with a smirk.

She glares at me. "You are doing this deliberately. Everything you've done tonight is absolutely horrid. What is the matter with you?"

I shrug, and continue eating as if her accusation is of little consequence.

Eventually she gets bored of watching me eat and reaches for her glass. She takes a tiny sip.

I smile. It is enough.

"So where did you go today, Hermione?"

Her eyes go wide. "To see Harry, and to the bookshop."

"Oh? You didn't mention going to see Potter earlier. What did you do with him?"

She bites her lip to keep from talking, but the potion overpowers her. "I slept with him."

"Did you enjoy it?"

"Yes, it is always amazing!"

I narrow my eyes. "How many times have you been unfaithful to me, Hermione?"

She licks her lips, staring at me. "Thirty-seven times."

"You've fucked Potter thirty-seven times," I clarify.

She nods, clearly ashamed.

"Do you feel bad about breaking your marital vows to me?"

"Yes."

I am actually surprised by her answer. "Then why do you continue to do it?"

"I don't really know."

I frown. "Come on, Hermione. Dig a little deeper. Why do you fuck, Potter?"

"I don't know, Severus!"

I grip the edge of the table. "Liar!"

"How can I be lying? You laced the wine!"

"Shut your filthy mouth!"

Her mouth snaps shut. She is terrified.

I stand back away from the table and with a quirk of my head all of the dishes on the table are swept onto the floor with a loud crash.

"Follow me downstairs," I whisper.

She walks several paces behind me.

It feels like a funeral procession.

I enter the basement and hold the door open for her.

The first thing she sees is Potter, hanging limply from the cross.

"Harry!" She screams and rushes forward.

I grab her wrist and pull her toward me. "Is he more important than me?"

She struggles to break free. I grip her chin with my other hand, forcing her to look at me. "Make your choice," I tell her.

"What have you done, Severus? Is he dead? Harry! Can you hear me?"

I can tell that she is not going to make this easy. She has no focus.

"Hermione! Is that fool more important than our family? Is he more important than your children?"

I've caught her attention. "No, of course not!"

"Yet you risk it all for a roll in the hay with him!"

She shakes her head. "I'm sorry, Severus! I'm so sorry! Please, I'll make it up to you, I swear it! Just let Harry go!"

Ah, Gryffindor theatrics.

"Here is what I will do. I will forgive you, Hermione, for betraying me, if you do one thing for me."

"I'll do anything!"

"Not so fast. You don't even know what I want."

"Then tell me, Severus!"

"You will kill Harry Potter."

"What?"

"There is a knife on the floor next to Potter. You will pick it up and slide it across his throat. You will stand there and watch the light leave his eyes. If you do this, I will forgive you."

"If I refuse?"

"I will kill Potter, and then, I will kill you."

She is horrified. She is torn.

"Do you ever want to see your children again?" I ask her in a quiet voice. I know they are more precious to her than anything.

"Of course I do. I love them!"

"The knife is waiting."

I release her, and she stumbles back.

"You have one minute."

I stand against the wall and watch her.

"Please, Severus! Don't make me do this! I'll do anything else!"

I smirk. "You will do this or you both will die. You're wasting time."

Hermione knows me well enough to know that I am speaking the truth. I will not hesitate to kill either of them.

She is visibly shaking as she crosses the room. She can barely grip the knife.

Harry moans softly. He is clearly unaware of what is going on.

Hermione is sobbing. She approaches her friend, agony on her face.

She looks back at me.

I nod.

She lifts his head.

She lifts the knife.

She screams.

She buries the knife in his neck, before falling to the floor, crying hysterically.

Harry twitches on the cross for a moment before becoming still.

I do nothing but watch her dispassionately. She cries herself to sleep.

I watch over her for many long moments before walking forward. I place my hands beneath her, and lift her, cradling her in my arms. I take her upstairs to our bed.

I tuck her in, and kiss her goodnight.