AUTHOR'S NOTE: Only J.K. Rowling owns the Harry Potter universe and all that comes from it. The rest of us are only playing with it.
7. Epoximise
Her stomach was roiling and her palms were damp. Considering the rapid pace of her heart, she was also fairly certain that she was only moments away from cardiac arrest. The Side-Along Apparition to Malfoy Manor had been seamless, but it didn't matter. The night was cool and clear, long-dead stars twinkling serenely above them, but that didn't matter either. Severus' arm was warm beneath her hand, but it brought no comfort now. As they approached the ornate wrought-iron gates surrounding the Manor, Hermione felt as though she were walking to the Executioner's block.
It had finally come to this.
She had been so naïve. She had actually started to feel comfortable in Tom's house, at ease with her Hogwarts classes and arrangement with Severus in the evenings. She had begun to feel somewhat normal again. Sometimes, it was even easy to forget that her father was a murderous, rampaging psychopath hell-bent on conquering the world as they knew it. After all, she hardly ever saw him and they had not spoken since the day he brought her to his home.
How naïve.
Of course she wasn't normal. Of course her life would never be so simple ever again. How could she have been so blind these past weeks? How could she have so easily brushed it all aside?
Easy. You wanted to forget. You wanted to simply be.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, Hermione was aware that Severus was speaking to her. What was he saying? It was so difficult to focus through the panic. She was only catching bits and pieces of his words.
"…must not show any weakness… do not want to accept you… dangerous… respect above all else… obey his every command… do not fear… will not let anyone harm you…"
His words didn't matter. His promises didn't matter. This was it. This was what she had feared. Tom wanted to indoctrinate her. There was no escape from this.
She was trapped. Imprisoned. Confined.
She couldn't breathe.
Severus stopped just before the gates, the shimmer of the wards just beyond where they stood. He turned and gripped her shoulders tightly, lowering his face to hers, "Miss Granger, breathe before you pass out. Look at me. Look at me, damn it!"
Hermione barely managed to raise her head. Her breaths were still coming too hard and fast- blue sparks began manifesting wildly from her skin. Even her magic was panicking now.
"Shite!" He hissed, yanking his hands back from her shoulders. Her magic must have burned him. "Gods damn it all girl, I need you to get a grip on yourself! I will be of no use to you if you have a meltdown before we even enter!"
She shut her eyes for a moment and dug deep within herself to find any semblance of calm. Her frightened magic was clouding her mind and she knew if she didn't snap out of it, it would be unlikely for either of them to survive the evening. That very thought sobered her. She did not want to do anything to jeopardize Severus' life.
When Hermione opened her eyes again, she felt much more in control, though her voice was still shaky, "Tell me how we survive this, Severus."
"This evening will not be pleasant," he admitted somewhat hesitantly. "I expect he is testing us, to ascertain if my presence has been beneficial in swaying you to his side. He enjoys grandeur and drama, so it would be wise to anticipate him requiring your… participation."
"What kind of participation?"
Severus' expression was angry, "Torture for certain, perhaps murder if he feels so inclined."
The panic was resurfacing, "No… no… Merlin, no…"
"Miss Granger," he tilted her chin so she was looking up at him, "if you think I would actually allow you to do such things, you are sorely mistaken. What have I told you from the day we met? I will not let anyone or anything harm you. Should your involvement be commanded, I will handle it in whatever manner necessary. You have my word."
The subtle meaning behind his words squeezed her chest like a vice, "If you defy him, he will torture you again."
"Yes."
Hermione gripped the lapels on his elegant black dress robes in fear, "What do you mean, 'yes'?! He could kill you!"
Severus gently removed her hands and smoothed the fabric back to its pristine state. His voice and eyes were soft when he answered, "Better me than you, Miss Granger. I am far less important."
He was so accepting. She wanted to vomit.
"Please," he held out his right arm to her. "We cannot waste any more time, Miss Granger. It is time."
Knowing it was futile to resist any further, Hermione wound her arm through his and took a deep, steadying breath. He was right, of course. There was no running from this anymore. Come Hell or high-water, it was time to face it.
"As soon as it is safe to leave, we will," he said as they passed through the foreboding gates. "Try to remain calm. Do not give the others any reason to doubt you. You are Tom Riddle's only child; everyone in that room is beneath you. You must act like it."
The Manor grew closer with every step they took.
Hermione could feel her magic tingling just beneath her skin in warning but she did her best to suppress it. Losing control would do her no good now. As they approached the lavish ivory double doors of the Manor, she gripped his arm just a little tighter. "You will stay with me?"
Severus rested his left hand on the smaller one gripping his right arm, "Every moment."
The doors opened.
x-x-x
Were Hermione visiting Draco on holiday, she would have undoubtedly been rendered speechless at the magnificence that was Malfoy Manor. Everything was carved from either ivory, marble, or granite. The pillars, the doors, the floors- all of it was more extravagant than anything she had ever seen. It made Tom's house laughable.
These people were not simply playing at being rich.
The ballroom was all ivories and golds, from the floors to the tapestries. There was a grand staircase leading to the main dancing space with a large observing balcony directly across from it.
That was where they stood now.
The room was completely filled, wall-to-wall, with hundreds of people all dressed in the finest fabrics and jewels. It would be easy to mistake such a group for civilized human beings, rather than deviant monsters if one didn't know any better. They women all stood, gazing up lovingly at her father as the men regarded him with a mixture of respect and awe. Each of them hung on his every word, his every breath and glance like simpering sycophants. A few of them looked purely demonic in their anticipation for the undoubtedly horrifying events to come. The bloodlust in the room was palpable.
"My brethren! I cannot express the immense pride I feel as I stand here and look out among you. I have long awaited this day and am most pleased to be able to share such splendor with you all. Tonight, we have a very special guest with us. One I believe you have been waiting for for quite a long time. Brothers and Sisters, I would like to introduce each and every one of you to my daughter, Hermione."
Hermione stepped onto the dais beside her father. With Severus' words in her mind, she gazed out into the crowd of elegantly dressed Death Eaters with as much contempt and confidence as she could muster. She would not let such wretched people intimidate her; not when their lives were on the line. Her only comfort was the feel of Severus' eyes boring into her back a few scant feet away.
"My Lord," a burly man with dark curls and a scruffy beard came forward, bowing lowly. "It is an honor. She is most lovely."
"Indeed, she is," Tom purred, making Hermione's skin crawl. "But I am curious, Dolohov. What is it that makes you so bold this evening? Such an interruption is… severely punishable. Surely you know that."
"Of course, my Lord. However I had hoped now would be acceptable. You see, those of us in your Inner Circle have brought the Princess a gift."
Her father looked genuinely surprised, "Oh?" He turned to Hermione. "And would you be interested in this gift, my child?"
She kept her face expressionless as she inclined her head to him, "If it pleases you, father, I will accept it."
His face lit with a terrifying smile, "Excellent! Bring your gift forward and present it to your Princess so she may judge if it is worthy of her."
A small door to the very back of the ballroom opened, revealing a tall, skeletal woman with untamed curls and a short, pudgy man with watery eyes and pinched features. Between them they dragged a person, a man by the looks of his build, with a cloth sack over his head. When they reached the balcony, they both bowed deeply.
"My Lord," the woman crooned, her voice scratchy and grating.
"My Lord," the pudgy man echoed.
"Bellatrix, Wormtail," her father acknowledged. "What have you brought for my daughter this evening?"
"My Lord," Bellatrix smiled, revealing grey, broken teeth and blackening gums. "We thought that the Princess might enjoy celebrating as your loyal Death Eaters do. We have brought her a Muggle most delectable!"
It was just as Severus had warned. Torture. Murder. All in the name of indoctrinating her to their ways. She could feel the bile rising in the back of her throat and the panic threatening to take over again. She had to do something to discourage this.
"How disappointing," Hermione drawled, barely managing to conceal her disgust and revulsion. "I must admit, father, I expected more."
Tom laughed heartily, turning towards her keeper who remained in the shadows behind the dais, "My, my, Severus. You have taught her so well! Such discerning taste already."
From the corner of her eye, Hermione could see Severus incline his head slightly.
He turned back to Bellatrix and Wormtail, "I admit, I am also rather disappointed. She is your Princess; bringing a lowly Muggle such as this as a 'gift' is no better than an insult. Shall I let her practice her Cruciatus on my Inner Circle? Or maybe something a little messier- Sectumsempra, perhaps? What do you think, my child?"
"Wait, wait!" Dolohov came forward again. "My Lord, please. This is no ordinary Muggle we have brought for the Princess."
"That's right!" Wormtail nodded, shoving the blinded man to his knees before them. "We would never insult her by—"
Bellatrix hissed at Wormtail before turning back to the balcony, a terrifying grin on her cracked lips, "Princess, in honor of your very first Revel." She ripped the cloth from the man's head and yanked his blond hair back so they could see his face.
Two blackened cerulean eyes.
"Hello, sweets," Wendell smiled softly up at her.
Her face was curiously blank. Inside, Hermione was screaming.
"Splendid! Absolutely splendid! You have done well, my brethren. So, so well!" Tom was ecstatic, his eyes alight with anticipation. "For those of you who do not know, this Muggle filth tried to claim my daughter as his own. It is only fitting that she be the one to make him suffer now." He turned to Hermione, his typically perfect face twisted and warped by bloodlust. "You have my permission to do whatever you wish with him, child. Tell me, what would you like to do first? Make him beg? Make him bleed? Hmm?"
She couldn't do this. Her act was rapidly crumbling as her mind raced, desperate for a solution. There had to be a way out of this, to save him. Wendell was her father, he had been since she was two years old; after what had happened to her mother, Hermione couldn't let him die like this. And she would be damned if she would ever be the one to raise her wand to him.
"I…"
"My Lord," Severus' stepped forward and placed his hidden hand discretely on her lower back, rubbing the skin with his thumb in a soothing circular motion. "If I may? I have not had the time yet to instruct the Princess on how best to… enjoy her time at the Revels. Perhaps I might provide some suggestions? After all, her first kill, and one so important at that, should be handled with the reverence it deserves."
"Of course, Severus. You are correct. Please," Tom, still smiling evilly, gestured for him to continue. "Guide her well."
The entire ballroom was silent as Severus whispered to her, "Breathe for me, Hermione. Now, I need you to trust me. Can you do that? Nod if your answer is yes."
Desperately clawing at her last reserves of calm, Hermione nodded once. She did her best to look deep in thought as he spoke to her.
"Raise your wand to him and take a deep breath as if readying yourself for the spell. I will handle the rest," Severus pressed his fingertips into her lower back slightly. "Trust in me, Hermione."
He stepped back from her and Hermione raised her wand to her stepfather, silently beseeching every God in every religion to keep her hand steady and her face impassive. Tom's smile was so wide, it was a wonder his face didn't split.
Wendell, always sharper than people gave him credit for, seemed to understand the situation they were in. He caught Hermione's eye and smiled. She nearly broke then; seeing her father for the last sixteen years bruised and bleeding on his knees before her, prepared for pain and death at her hands. He knew she had no choice, she could see it in his eyes. He didn't blame her. He still loved her. Even if she did this, he would still be her dad and she would always be his little girl.
Tears welled behind her eyes as she opened her mouth—
"Avada Kedavra!"
Wendell's body slumped to the ground, his eyes staring unseeing up at the balcony. There was a collective gasp and a swirl of fabric as hundreds of Death Eaters turned to see Wormtail standing over Wendell's lifeless form with his wand drawn.
"WORMTAIL!" Tom roared, furious. "YOU DARE?!"
Wormtail blinked a few times as if awakening from a dream and it took a few seconds for him to realize what he had done. He looked up at the balcony, horror, dismay, and confusion on his face. "M.. my Lord, please! I… I don't—"
"The Revel has officially begun, my brethren! Go forth and indulge in your darkest pleasures, but first," Tom snarled, his hands gipping the balustrade so hard his knuckles were white, "punish Wormtail for callously stealing your offering for the Princess! And if his punishment is not severe enough, you all will suffer for it!"
The Death Eaters, eager for blood and furious at their offering being ruined, descended on Wormtail with a vengeance. His bloodcurdling screams were the last things Hermione heard before Severus mercifully whisked her away from the ballroom.
x-x-x
Hermione was numb.
She was numb when they Apparated back to the house and she was numb as Severus led her up the central staircase to her bedroom. She was vaguely aware of Severus speaking to her, somewhere her brain was registering his praises for her bravery and his comforting words that assured her she was safe now, that they had survived. Her brain recognized the words, but couldn't make sense of them. She didn't feel the carpet beneath her bare feet after Severus removed her heels and she didn't feel her hair tumble down her bare back as he removed the charms she had woven to hold it in place. She didn't feel the expensive fabric of his dress robes on her back as he lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bathroom. She didn't feel the cold marble against the soles of her feet when he set her down in front of the sink.
"Let me get you something to wear. I will be right back, alright?"
She didn't respond.
How could this be happening? How could this be real? She had just seen her stepfather, a man she loved more than her own father, murdered before her very eyes. Tom had wanted her to kill him. He had wanted her to torture him, to make him bleed and cry and beg and plead for his life. He wanted his blood on her hands. How could one person be so wholly evil?
She wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn't come. What was wrong with her? Why couldn't she feel… anything?
It wasn't until Hermione looked up at her reflection in the mirror that she finally broke. The front of her gown was spattered in blood from when the Death Eater's had attacked Wormtail. There was no holding back anymore; she started screaming.
Severus came barreling back into the bathroom with clothes in his hands, panic evident in his eyes, "What? What is it? What's wrong?"
Hermione clawed at the front of her gore-stained dress savagely, tearing several holes in the fabric with her fingernails as she screamed. "Get it off of me!" She cried hysterically, tears pouring unbidden down her cheeks. "Severus, please! Get it the fuck off!" As he was reaching for his wand, she noticed there was also blood splattered across her chest and upper arms as well. Hermione tore at her own flesh like a crazed banshee, desperate to rid her skin of that murderer's blood.
"Hermione, stop! Stop!" Severus pleaded, restraining her hands in his iron grip. "All you are doing is hurting yourself. Just let me help you."
Panic seized her. Wormtail's blood was still there, she could see it in the mirror behind him and she had gouged several long, deep wounds across her own chest and arms as well. She watched in horror as blood oozed from her wounds and mingled with the spatter that was already there. She started to hyperventilate and was quickly losing feeling in her extremities. The room started to spin.
Severus cupped her face, "Hermione! Hermione, breathe! You are just having an anxiety attack. I'm here with you, you can make it through this. After what you just witnessed, you can handle anything. Do you hear me, Hermione? Answer me, Gods damn you!"
"Get it off of me," she begged, sobbing between gasping breaths. "The blood, get it off! GET IT OFF!"
He flicked his wand toward the shower before tossing it back onto the sink and crushing her to his chest, "Finite," he breathed, waving his hand towards her dress. The gown went from black back to lilac, only highlighting the blood even more. "Do not look down, do you understand?"
"Please," Hermione pleaded, burying her face in his chest as she wept. "Just get rid of it."
"Hermione," he said gently. "Can you undo the back?"
"Vanish it! I never want to see it again!"
Without moving more than his arm, Severus's silently vanished the ruined gown, leaving her in just her bra and knickers. "You're bleeding, Hermione. Let me heal you."
She gave a tiny nod but otherwise did not move.
He moved a hand between them and placed it across her upper sternum and began to chant something into her hair that sounded almost lyrical, like a song, "Vulnera Sanentur… Vulnera Sanentur… Vulnera Sanentur…"
Hermione could feel the gouges on her chest knitting closed. Once they were sufficiently healed, he wrapped his hands around her biceps and chanted again, three more times, until her skin was, once again, unmarred.
"You should take a shower," he murmured, nudging her towards the large frosted glass stall. "It will help."
"No!" She cried, her grip on his clothes tightening as she began to gasp in panic again. "Please, you cannot leave me alone!"
"Hermione, just relax. I am not going anywhere. I will be right here the entire time. Here," he reached across the counter and handed her a large black t-shirt. "I'm just going to your bedroom for a moment so you can get in the shower, alright?"
"You will come right back?" There was still an edge of hysteria to her voice and her eyes were wild with anxiety and fear.
Severus cupped her cheek, "Yes, I promise."
After he shut the bathroom door, Hermione removed her underthings and stared at herself in the mirror. She pounded her fist on the countertop in frustration as tears flowed from her eyes once again. What was she going to do? How was she going to survive a life of this? She honestly didn't know.
x-x-x
When Severus reentered the bathroom, Hermione desperately tried to stifle the sounds of her sobs beneath the water. He was not fooled.
"Hermione? Talk to me. Tell me what you're thinking." When she didn't respond, Severus slid the door of the shower open a little. "Hermione?"
She was sitting in the far corner of the opulent shower stall, arms wrapped around her knees as she rocked back and forth. The black t-shirt she wore was soaked through and the water continued to spray directly onto her lowered head.
Her voice was almost a whisper, "Please don't leave me alone, Severus."
"I promised I would not, remember?"
Without lifting her head, she reached her right arm blindly for him. A few seconds later, clad in only his trousers and a white button-down, Severus sat on the floor of the shower beside her. She rested her head on his shoulder as they sat under the spray. Soon, he was drenched as well.
"The first Revel is the worst," he finally said. "Eventually…"
"I cannot do this."
He turned to look at her, his hair lank and sticking to his face. His eyes were soft, "I know the feeling."
They were silent for a long time before Hermione wrapped her arms around his left one, "What am I going to do, Severus?"
He seemed pensive, "I suppose that depends on how far you are willing to go."
She looked up at him, "What do you mean?"
"Could you really turn your back on your father? Could you really walk away, knowing that he could be killed by the other side?"
Tears stung her eyes as she stared at the opposite wall of the shower, "My father was killed tonight."
"Then, perhaps, it's time we visit the Headmaster of Hogwarts."
When she turned to look at him, Severus smoothed the furrow from her brow with his slender fingers. "You are the only one I trust, Severus."
He rested his forehead against hers and closed his eyes as he sighed, "If you truly want out, then I am afraid we have no other choice."