A/N: 2/10/05-Yes, I updated this chapter, for I feel, looking back on it, was much too graphic, and only deterred people from reading this sequel altogether, just because of this one chapter. Now, regardless of it being "dummed" down, it still might be too much for some people. I shall let you know that this fic is going to be changed to PG-13 again, but this chapter has the most adult content so far.

Chapter 3: Shattered are the Roses in the Dark

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Hermione did not get back to the Grimmauld Place until very late that night; she hoped to god that no one would notice her coming in or if they did, assume she was doing research for school. She moved stealthily through the house, very relieved that Mrs. Black's portrait was removed in her last year at Hogwarts. She managed to make her way up the stairs without making too much unordinary noise and slipped into her and Severus's room ad shut the door quietly behind her. She made her way quickly to her dresser and began to slowly inch off her clothes bit by bit, so as to not wake Severus, who would for sure have questions about her whereabouts. Finally she was in her night gown, a knee length silk blue one with lace trim and silver embroidery; a birthday present from Severus, which caused her to smirk slightly.

"Good morning, Hermione." Hermione froze. Dammit, why does he have to have such good hearing? She turned and met his eyes in the semi-darkness with which the moon had supplied its tasteful rays that danced over the bed and the man that was now sitting up in it. She was not in the mood to talk to him, especially when he was in a dark humorous mood.

"It's late, Severus, two o' clock," she replied darkly. She saw his white-teethed smirk through the darkness.

"In the morning," he added, his eyes now studying her incredulously. Hermione made a very undignified snort and crawled into bed.

"All the more reason to go to sleep," she mumbled and turned over. Suddenly, she realized that he had been watching her the entire time, but she wanted him to confirm that she wasn't just being paranoid that eyes were on her the entire time.

"You were watching me undress, weren't you? Why didn't you say anything then?" No answer, except for a fake snore in reply. She sighed and closed her eyes, wondering what on earth went on in Severus's mind all the time. But as Severus's arm snaked around her waist to hold her close, she thought she'd rather not know.

Hermione tiredly rose the next morning, groaning. She noisily shoved the covers away and untangled her waist from Severus's arm and went to the bathroom. Upon returning, she found Severus to be already up, greeting her with a sleepy smile.

"Herm, why are you up so early? It's Saturday," he said curiously. She held back a noise of frustration. It was a trap, if she knew her former professor and now husband.

"Sev, I have homework, even if it isn't assigned by you anymore," she said exasperatedly. This brought a chuckle from him.

"Touché," he replied humouredly.

"Now, if you'll be so kind as to let me get ready," she grumbled fitfully and began to change into a tank top, jeans, and a pair of blue robes.

"I don't know," he continued, as she buttoned up her robes, "I'd thought you'd want to sleep in, you know, being it our first anniversary and all," he finished. Hermione froze in sudden realization; it was their first anniversary, and she was the one who forgot! Oh shit, I have nothing to give him; I better do that today, she thought feverishly. What a wife she was, to forget such an important day.

"No need to apologize," he said gently, reading her thoughts, again. "Hermione," she turned as she opened the door, "Please be careful," he said, crossing to her, and Hermione's eyebrows rose in confusion. Severus gently closed the door, guiding her until her back was against the door, and proceeded to kiss her. Surprised at the sudden generosity, it took her a moment to relax, open her mouth, and clasp his shoulders. She became overwhelmed with his musky cinnamon and herbal smell, drinking in his scent, which, even since her sixth year, still intoxicated her. He broke the kiss first, and she very reluctantly pulled away.

"Be careful today, sweet," he whispered, planting a kiss on her forehead. What possessed me to call her that? He thought. Hermione was surprised; he's never called me that before.

"Why today, love?" she said, and then blushed at the last word. The closest intimate thing she'd called him was Sev, and 'love' had come unbidden from her lips, and she saw his mouth twitch in surprise.

"Because," he continued, his voice calm, "I don't want you to get hurt. Just be careful, sweet."

"Okay."

"Promise?"

"Yes." Even though she promised, his skeptical gaze said he was not convinced, and never had been.

As Hermione left that day, she wondered what she was going to get Severus for an anniversary present. As her hand clasped the mirror in her pocket, the memory of the "Christmas Gift Exchange" blazed clear in her mind. Severus had insisted she take it with her today, and he would keep his close by as well. She did not know why he was being suddenly so cautious today; he was definitely worried about something. But then again, he was always worried about her.

Ever since they had married, he was constantly worrying about a Death Eater or the Dark Lord himself harming or killing her, as revenge against him, and it didn't help matters, he had said protectively and without any contempt, that she was a Muggle-born. But she had always shaken off his worries, telling him over and over again that she would be careful. This morning was no different. Nothing had happened to her thus far, so if they were going to try anything, in her opinion, they would have done it ages ago. But Severus had never lost his paranoia, since he was now openly on Dumbledore's side and was discovered as a double agent, she could see why he hadn't. Then she remembered; her parents had been killed only a month before. She was coping quite well with their deaths, considering the circumstances. That must be why he's worried.

In a few moments she had apparated to Diagon Alley, and was making her way through the crowds of people. She pushed the sad thoughts about her parents and her husband's paranoia aside to the new task at hand, his anniversary present. As she scanned the shops, the hair on the back of her neck rose. Was she being followed? She continued to have this unsettling feeling until it was growing dark, and the alley was getting deserted as people went home. She walked out of Flourish and Blotts and began to make her way back to the Leaky Cauldron. She didn't feel very comfortable anymore, and decided it was time to leave.

"Leaving so soon, Lady Snape?" Lucius drawled with mock formality, stepping in her pathway. She looked around, there were a few people in the alley, but they were quite a distance away, no help to her.

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy," she said coolly, trying to keep a calm and confident outward appearance, and shirk him off at the same time.

"Oh, I just thought you wouldn't be one to leave so early," he purred, running a finger down her cheek, and she flinched.

"Well, it is getting dark, Mr. Malfoy," she said, her voice struggling to stay even.

"But that is when the party starts, am I right, Draco?" Lucius said playfully, acknowledging his son as he crept up behind her.

"Yes, Father, quite right," his drawling soft voice whispered into her hair, she could feel his frosty presence very close to her, and she began to get nervous. She was cornered, and she was not exactly physically strong enough to take both of them, but she'd sure as hell try. "Come, dear Hermione, we wouldn't want you to miss the party. It's at our Manor, of course, you'll enjoy it immensely," he drawled, his hands now kneading her shoulders; she tried to shake him off, but he only tightened his grip.

"Why don't you join us, Hermione?" Lucius droned softly, his hands gripping her waist and then caressing up and down her sides. Hermione was now thoroughly frightened and she could not mask the terror that blazed in her eyes.

"Stop that," she said, her last feeble attempt, her confidence shattered, but she struggled nonetheless. But this only seemed to encourage them to hold tighter from both sides.

"Feisty, isn't she Draco? You'll have fun with her," Lucius smirked, his eyes glowing dangerously.

"Indeed, Father, but don't worry, I'll let you share," Draco replied, smiling triumphantly. Hermione paled, she was praying with all her heart and soul that she heard them wrong, or that this was a dream, a very horrible nightmare. And suddenly they apparated, taking her with.

She found herself in the basement of the Malfoy Manor, and immediately searched with her eyes for possible escape. Her eyes scanned over a grand canopy bed, which was strangely bare, with nothing but a mattress and a thin cotton sheet. Now, with the Malfoys, you'd expect a grand bed with silk sheets and blankets the deepest of green and the most radiant of silver or black. After all, they were Slytherins, and filthy rich. There were candles lit in several wall mounted glass balls, but they only made the room feel dank and disgusting, like it harbored thousands of unknown horrors unbeknownst to the world. Hermione looked for any doors or windows that were possibly ajar, or anyplace that would lead her away from this circle of hell. There was no escape, and it was too dimly lit to tell what…and who, was also in the room. Still, she fought, but they were by far stronger than her.

"Father, I give you the honors," Draco said formally, letting go of Hermione and bowing.

"Why thank you, my son," Lucius replied, his eyes now burning with lust, "Don't mind if I do." And before she could do anything, he grabbed her, slammed her against the wall, and crushed his lips to hers. She fought the stars dancing in her brain and struggled violently, but his body was pressed against hers, pinning her against the wall, and he threw her robes to the ground. She cried out, and Lucius and Draco only laughed; she recoiled in disgust at the sour taste of his mouth. Draco pulled out his wand, said something, and her jeans and underwear were suddenly gone. Hermione picked this moment to kick Lucius in the crotch and bit down hard on his bottom lip. He cried out and staggered from her, blood trickling from his lip as he leaned against the bed fighting the pain in his crotch. Hermione sunk to the floor, her energy almost spent, and she tried vainly to cover herself.

Lucius recovered after only a moment, and her actions only seemed to fuel his advances, and he grabbed her and flung her on the bed, after which he removed his robes and undid his pants and slid them off. Hermione screamed again as Lucius jumped on top of her, knocking the wind out of her. As she struggled to get her breath back, she found her hands had been magically tied with rope to the bedposts. She screamed, shrieking at the top of her lungs, no doubt deafening anyone within the room. Then the horrible leech grew still. Hermione's vision was clouded, her mouth dry and scratchy from screaming, and all she could hear was Lucius's gasps, and all she could feel was the searing pain that would not stop. Quite suddenly rolled off the bed, and put his clothes back on.

"Your turn Draco," Lucius said, out of breath, but his voice triumphant. Before she knew it Draco was on the bed, undressed, and running his fingers over her body, which was now in a cold dripping sweat. Hermione moaned. And Draco only sniggered.

"You like this, don't you, you little chit?" he hissed, and Hermione twisted to get away, but to no avail. She opened her eyes, and Draco saw the hatred that burned in her eyes.

"Shut the fuck up, Draco, you bastard," she croaked, and Draco smacked her hard against the side of her head.

"Well, the little whore certainly has bad language," he snarled, then smacked her again. "But you'll change your tune. Imperio!" Hermione's world became hazy; her whole body racked with pain that transitioned to a steady throb.

We have some visitors, dear Hermione, and they'd like to meet you too. And by the way, I won't kill you, because you're still useful, for now. Too bad your parents weren't of any use to us; I enjoyed killing them, you know, as much as I will enjoy the pleasure of you.

Hermione tried to struggle, but his voice inside her head ordered her to relax, and all of her senses became deadened. The effects of the Imperio Curse kept her from screaming, and made her feel like she was floating, even though deep down all she wanted to do was die.

For a long time she lay there, helplessly following Draco's orders, and she heard more voices. She heard Lucius talking to the other Death Eaters, and to the voice she only recognized as the Dark Lord, and the voice of the infamous Avery, and she felt the weight of Draco's body leave, but he was replaced by what seemed endless other punishing bodies. She shrieked and screamed until her voice was gone and tears coursed down her face. Draco had lifted the Imperio long ago, and the needle-sharp pain in her body, the dull and sticky throb from her head, and the raw and blistering burn around her wrists from the ropes, and the scratches and bruises on her body all came back until she could handle it no longer and passed out on the bed, the world vanishing from her eyes and the will to live gone along with her sanity and pride, vanquished by the abusing Death Eaters.

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Severus had called to Hermione through the mirror when it began to grow dark, hoping she was already on her way home. But what met his eyes sent his heart dropping into his stomach and his mind racing as he saw Hermione cornered by Lucius and Draco, clearly trying to escape, and right before his eyes she disappeared along with Lucius and Draco, and he dropped the mirror, which hit the ground with a smash of shattered pieces as he practically sprinted out of Grimmauld Place, yelling through the house and stepping out the door to apparate to the Malfoy Manor.

He ran through the deserted halls, down the stairs to the basement, the most popular place for the past and current Death Eater gatherings, he knew all too well. Then when he got to the stairs leading to the basement, he paused to catch his breath and listen. He could hear the voices of Lucius (the bastard), Avery, and many others. It seemed like the whole congregation of Death Eaters was piled in there, along with their master, Voldemort himself, which was odd, because he thought himself above such things as Death Eater "parties". He would have to plan carefully, or both he and Hermione would be killed…if she wasn't dead already. He wondered why they hadn't noticed he was just outside the door, but he heard screams, which subsided to racking sobs, then silence. Dammit, they must be having one of their filthy "pleasure parties" again…shit, was that Hermione? Oh shit! He suddenly realized the full-blown meaning of Lucius's threat, "she will be exposed". Thinking quickly, he apparated to the outside of the house and stumbled in the bushes surveying through the darkness. He turned and to his satisfaction found a small window at level with the ground, which he suspected was in the basement. He crawled and lay on his stomach and carefully looked through, and a moment later straightened; he'd seen enough, and he boiling over with wrath fit to explode.

"What should we do with her?" said Parkinson, looking to the Dark Lord, but not at him.

"Kill her, she's no use of anyone anymore," barked Avery, rubbing his hands together gleefully.

"Display the Mudblood in a way you seem fit as a warning to Severus," rasped Voldemort, his eyes hard with satisfaction, and then suddenly disappeared. And just as the Death Eaters fumbled for their wands, they saw Severus flicker into view.

"Avada Kevadra!" Several Death Eaters with faster reflexes shouted and their green flashes of light streamed to the spot Severus and Hermione had been only a second before, reducing the now empty and bare bed to cinders.

Severus had apparated to the first place that had popped into his mind: the Snape Mansion. He hoped Hermione would live so he could share it with her. Wrapping her in his cloak, he carried her upstairs to his bedroom. Then he set her down on the bed and went on a search through his house for his healing and first aid supplies until he had compiled an armful of stuff to carry back to Hermione. There he set to work, cleaning the gashes on her head, reducing the bruises that covered her entire body, and healing the minor cuts and scrapes. Once this was taken care of, he used every cleansing charm he could think of to cleanse her violated body. Once he ran out of spells and his limited remedies, he shook with fear, the first he had felt in a long time. He wondered if his pathetic healing abilities would be enough. Shaking, he leaned against the wall, catching his breath to keep himself from hurling. Sliding to the floor, he pulled his knees to his chest, put his head in his hands, and was so overcome with emotion, he cried.

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A/N: 2/10/05-Much better, compared to what it was before. So there you go. If you've stumbled upon this chapter after this editing, good for you. All the more reason to review, and less reason to flame me.