Disclaimer: J.K.Rowling owns everything, I don't. No copyright infringement is intended.

A/N: I know it's been forever since I've last updated, and I'm sure many of the original readers have long since given up on updates. I can't say as I blame them (I wouldn't have waited this long for another chapter myself), but for those of you still plotting along I hope it was worth the wait. As far as the rest of the story goes, the next chapter is partly written (I know, that's what I've been saying about this chapter for months now), but I have no idea when the rest will be out of my head and onto the computer screen. Thanks to all for your emails of support and gentle nagging. I am trying to turn over a new leaf (or rather turn the leaf back over to where it was when I was writing every day). Wish me luck - and enjoy the chapter!

Chapter 17

Walking through the hallways of the Riddle manor, Snape felt more relaxed in the surroundings than he had ever been in the past. Although the layout of the stately home was designed to confuse new and unwelcome visitors, and even as a regular visitor he normally had to watch his step, the screams that were echoing down the corridor that night became an unmistakable path to the evening's festivities.

Making his way towards the unearthly sound, he briefly wondered who had incurred the wrath of the Dark Lord. Not that it mattered -- as long as he wasn't the one screaming in pain, he could live with the noise. Quietly stepping into the prized solarium, the first thing that hit him was not the overpowering fragrance from the vast array of lilies and orchids, but the faint smell of blood mixed with a large dose of fear. In the presence of the newest breed of Death Eaters it was far from an unusual scent, but it was still one that he had never grown accustomed to inhaling.

Leaning in and breathing deeply from a rather pungent Voodoo Lily, he attempted to mask the unpleasant smell as he planned his next move. From his secluded vantage point, Snape could see Voldemort comfortably lounging in his place of honor as the crumpled body of a junior Death Eater convulsed before him. Standing beside the hapless creature, was the Dark Lord's ever-present lapdog -- Peter Pettigrew. Wormtail, as his friend has referred to him, was jovially jumping about exalting each and every crack of his master's wand while vainly attempting to whip the jaded crowd of onlookers into a frenzy.

"Yes My Lord, punish him! Make him regret his failure!"

As the young man screamed in pain and the party shouted their habitual accolades, Snape noticed Voldemort's own lack of interest in the activity. Like others in the crowd, he had learned that, although the aristocrat never passed up an opportunity to show off his physical prowess and authority, he quickly tired of repeatedly performing the actual torture himself. Snape wasn't sure if it was due to his lack of corporeal strength, or if it was just a case of pretentious boredom; but either way, the recipients of each round of torture should have counted themselves lucky for the mild abuse they endured... Unfortunately many of them didn't.

As the young man whimpered through the last remnants of his pain, it became obvious to Snape that the Death Eaters were indeed beginning to scrape the bottom of the Wizarding barrel. While he would always think that legislating marriage was absurd, the scene before him was yet another example of why pureblood wizards were finding themselves on the losing side of the genetic race. At Hogwarts and Hogsmeade, he regularly saw half-bloods and Mudbloods survive much worse without even breaking a sweat. In fact, just that afternoon his own wife had endured a much harsher round of torture than this miserable sycophant was receiving.

'His wife,' he thought ruefully. How quickly he was becoming accustomed to those words.

With an angry snort, Snape cleared his thoughts; pushed aside the flowering plants that shielded him from view; and properly stepped into the solarium. His mind was clear, his senses sharp, and he was more than ready to step forward and accept his due for his recent marital activities. He had been preparing for this moment for some time now, and there was no turning back now.

With the air of someone who appeared unconcerned with their surroundings, Voldemort barely noted the unexpected commotion that had taken over the room. Languidly turned his attention from the sniveling man sprawled on the floor, he watched as his most valuable asset stepped into the room and genuflected before him. Holding out his hand he allowed his faithful servant to clutch at the bottom of his robes while waiting for permission to speak. To others it may have seemed like a silly act of servitude, but to him it was a constant reminder of his station in life. It was something that he vowed no one would ever again forget.

Kneeling before the Dark Lord, Snape dutifully performed his required ritual. Making sure to avert his eyes - an easy task if there ever was one - he paid homage to the incarnate of evil that towered before him. In an instant he felt the familiar queasiness as his actions caught the attention of two red eyes, then he braced himself for the sharp sting as the creature attempted to rip into his thoughts. He endured the pain, knowing full well that there would be no reward for the attempted invasion. He knew better than either of his two masters that his mind, his last bastion of sanity, was safe from all who attempted to enter. The occasional flood of information they would gain from using Legilimency on him was only what he wanted them to have - and not one drop more.

"Severus," the creature hissed, "so nice to see you this evening. What news do you bring me?"

Familiar with his cue, Snape slowly rose from the ground, making sure to keep his eyes downcast. "My Lord, congratulations are in order," he stated blandly. "I am now a married man." Like many followers forced to lower themselves to Mudblood marriages, Snape delivered the happy news with little interest.

"Good, another Mudblood that will be forced into her rightful place in this world," the demon cackled, "but tell me, why would this be cause for congratulations?"

Allowing himself a momentary sneer, he answered. "My new bride is none other than Hermione Granger, best friend to Harry Potter and an orphan under the protection of Albus Dumbledore. Her intelligence is quite remarkable, and her unwavering support of Potter has been a constant threat to our cause." Snape delivered the news like a falcon dropping its prey at its master's feet, and was immediately pleased with its results.

"That is interesting." Voldemort spoke the words with some reverence, and as a wicked grin split his snake-like face, Pettigrew's jaw dropped as he saw his position within the ranks wavering. "However did you manage to snatch her from underneath Dumbledore's nose?"

"I didn't snatch her at all, My Lord." Snape allowed a smile to hover over his lips as an emotion mildly resembling shock took hold of the creatures face. "Since her parents unfortunate demise, Dumbledore has come to think of the girl as a daughter of sorts. When the law was signed, Dumbledore immediately submitted a marriage petition on our behalf. I only had to sit back and play along."

"So," Pettigrew laughed with unsuppressed jealousy, "does the old fool consider the two of you a love match?"

"I hardly think so." Snape could hear the snickering in the crowd, but ignoring them - and Pettigrew - he went on. "My Lord, I believe that she is being used as my final test for the Order."

"How so?"

Snape's explanation was cut short as the door to the solarium crashed open from the combined force of Lucius Malfoy and his constant companions Crabbe and Goyle. While the obvious familiarity with the younger trio was reason enough to laugh, Snape held himself in check. He was well aware that the older version displayed far more power and elicited much more fear. It was always better not to cross them.

"There is the traitor!" shouted Malfoy as he pointed an empty hand at Snape. "He attacked me and stole my wand. I demand that he be dealt with at once!"

"Lucius, dear friend, calm down." The small smile that had been playing about Snape's lips grew to a sinister grin. As he walked towards the irate wizard, he casually handed over the wand in question. "I'm sorry that I had to go so far this afternoon, but your plan worked brilliantly."

Malfoy grabbed his wand and held it in front of himself in his favorite battle stance. "Did you think I would just stand back and allow you to tarnish my name over that Mudblood? I had a perfect plan to kidnap her, and you tie me up and leave me for dead?" As he raised his wand to attack, he was interrupted by a familiar voice.

"What Plan?" Voldemort queried.

Upon hearing the Dark Lord's voice, Malfoy spun around and balked at his own obvious lack of etiquette. However, before he could drop to his knees for forgiveness, Snape had intervened.

"Yes My Lord, a brilliant plan in fact. Thanks to Lucius' attempted kidnapping, my favorable standing within the Order has been cemented. When I told Dumbledore how I saved his precious little Mudblood the old fool was beside himself with pride," he chuckled lightly before absentmindedly adding, "I don't believe I've ever been held in such high regard before. I'm not sure how to celebrate gaining such unfettered admiration." He turned to the crowd and mused, "I wonder -- does Dumbledore's biggest mistake go with red or white wine?"

Laughter met his query, and Snape briefly glanced around the room to take in the jovial exchanges of his fellow Death Eaters. They all seemed as pleased as he was about the conquest -- that is all but Lucius Malfoy. While the other wizards were busy enjoying the news, Snape saw that Malfoy's earlier anger was now mixed with confusion. Before the laughter had a chance to die down Snape turned to him and spoke with an apologetic lilt. "Lucius, I'm sorry for ever doubting you. That I failed to see your plan was a grievous error on my part, and I see now that I shouldn't have questioned you. I didn't understand how your actions were relevant to my position within the Order until it was almost too late."

Snape could tell by the way Malfoy lowered his wand that the words were beginning to sink in. "I also apologize for my rather rough treatment, however nice a touch it added. You should have seen the Mudblood go on about how I saved her - the silly twit."

Thinking back to their pre-wedding meeting in his office, he brought forth the memory of her covert looks and vivid blush. While her attempts to conceal her discomfort were valiant, she had spent so much time observing the Medicinal chart that she missed the ornate mirror situation right next to it. From his seat in the imposing (and uncomfortable) wing back chair, he had a perfect view of her internal musings, and he had delighted in watching as each expression crossed her face. "My only solace from her new hero worship will be the ease with which she will bow to my commands."

The last part was a bit more callous than Snape had intended, but as the two men stared each other down, he was granted a reprieve from further outbursts.

"Lucius," Voldemort called out, "your actions today have pleased me. You have put yourself in personal danger and should be rewarded for your bravery."

Not one to pass up an opportunity, Malfoy pushed aside his lingering uneasiness of the situation and quickly claimed his praise. "My Lord, I don't wish anything for myself. I am here to serve you and anything that furthers our cause is reward enough for me."

Snape saw Voldemort look down at his right hand man with understated pride. It was no surprise to him when Malfoy continued on. "However, I think it is only fair that since I handed over the Mudblood to Severus, I should be allowed a… piece of his pie."

Upon hearing the cryptic phrase it was Voldemort's turn to look confused, and Malfoy quickly interjected, "The Mudblood, My Lord. She will make an excellent mascot for Slytherin House; it will be a nice distraction for those that have been locked away at that horrible school awaiting our instructions."

"Yes, yes, very well… now that we have her she might as well be of some use." Voldemort brushed aside the issue with a sweep of his hand. "Aside from being a nuisance, the girl has no real value. As long as she will no longer hinder our plans, she is of no concern to me. I am sure that Severus will be happy to share her." Dropping his gaze to the Hogwarts Professor, he commanded, "Do what you wish with her, then pass her along to the rest. I'm sure the others will appreciate the convenience of having a plaything so close by."

"My Lord," Snape hesitated as if weighing his words, "if that's the way you would like to go then I will of course obey, but I had another intriguing idea. As I was saying earlier, I believe that Dumbledore means for her to be a test."

"One that - by all accounts - he believes you've passed," replied Voldemort with a returning air of disinterest.

Snape could tell that he was growing weary of the subject, but continued on nonetheless. "I believe I've passed my initial test, but my continued standing could hinge on her future safety."

Out of the corner of his eye Snape could see Malfoy's anger rising. He knew that the other man would not take another loss very easily, and hoped that his plan would appease him.

"My Lord," he continued, concerned with Malfoy's reaction more than any other. "I believe that if I play this right I can build on what my dear friend Lucius has so expertly started and use the filthy Mudblood to bring down that troublesome Harry Potter once and for all. Then, once she has carried out our plans for his demise, I'm sure she could be put to more interesting uses."

"Do go on," the Dark Lord hissed. "I would love to hear how a common Mudblood could possibly bring down the Great Harry Potter."

"Oh no my lord," Snape quickly intervened in an effort to silence the tittering crowd. "It would be a mistake to call Hermione Granger - I mean, my wife, Hermione Snape - at all common." Allowing a cheeky smile to cross his face, he continued, "I have recently come to learn that this full-grown, very powerful witch, is also a virgin."

"Preposterous!" Shouted Malfoy. "I don't know what lies she tells that idle-minded fool of a Headmaster, but my son assures me she is anything but a virgin. She has a reputation that would put even the seediest brothel to shame."

"Indeed, within the halls of Hogwarts, she does have a rather sullied reputation," Snape recounted with a tip of his head, "but I've been assured that the Unicorns know differently."

Drowned out by the catcalls and guffaws from the crowd, Snape wasn't able to hear Malofy's retort, but the blistering red face and agitated wave of his wand said much about the man's anger at his missed opportunity.

"My, my," cooed Voldemort, immediately silencing the crowd, "that is good news. I gather this means I will no longer be subjected to anymore unfortunate delays from you?"

Daring to look him directly in the eye, Snape boldly replied, "None at all, my Lord. I believe I will now be able to harvest everything I need to assist you with your defeat of Harry Potter."

As the smile spread across the vindictive creature's face, the crowd began to chant in victory.

"So now that we know..." Snape shouted over the boisterous crowd, attempting to quiet them down. "Now that we know how rare a find she is, it would be a waste to simply discard her - many talents."

Malfoy, obviously furious about being bested by a lowly Professor, stood before him with a look of pure hatred plastered on his aristocratic face while the crowd erupted in a fresh wave of laughter.

Knowing that money, being the root of all evil, was also the root of the Malfoy family, Snape ignored the crowd and kept his eyes trained on his wealthy friend. He allowed the Death Eaters a moment of fun, and then whipped them into a frenzy when he called out, "of course, once we are done with her, I see no reason why she should not make a fine addition to the auction block!"

He was delighted to see Lucius shift his head ever so slightly to one side as a glint of intrigue sparked his eye. This casual action, unnoticed by most of the room, told his longtime friend and confidant Severus Snape one thing - he was hooked.