Disclaimer: J.K.Rowling owns everything, I don't. No copyright infringement is intended.
Chapter 18
With a practiced sweep of his wand, Severus Snape lowered the wards and entered the darkened room. After a moment to focus his eyes, he spied the young girl standing her ground and staring at him defiantly. Inwardly he smiled. Wild and strong - that was how he liked them.
Still euphoric over his victory with Voldemort and Malfoy, he had at first reluctantly agreed to attend the post-wedding bachelor party held in his honor. Reluctance, however, turned to pleasure when he found out that their destination was to be the most popular brothel in town -- a place where he was seldom allowed entry.
"Sit down on the bed," the austere professor shot out as he deftly slipped off his Death Eater mask.
After a brief hesitation -- enough to show that whatever her station in life, this act was occurring against her will -- the young girl sat down on the edge of the bed. With her head held high and her back straight, she prepared herself for what was to come next. She hadn't been at the brothel for very long, and in that short time she had seen and done some mind-numbingly awful things, but even she was aware of the reputation of the man standing before her, and she desperately tried to hide her fear.
Not really concerned with whose bed he would be sharing; Snape had selected this particular room out of habit. While the turnover at this particular mudblood brothel was difficult to calculate, this was where they kept the new girls, and he always seemed to have better luck with them. Casting an impenetrable privacy spell, Snape recalled that the nametag on the door - hastily scratched out over the remnants of countless other victims of this law - was Miriam. Watching the young, strong-willed girl attempt to defy him gave his sadistic side a slight thrill. She was perfect.
Regardless of her earlier outward bravado, watching him lift his wand and strengthen the wards to the room caused a shudder to run down Miriam's spine, and against her wishes her breathing quickened its pace. Right from the start her Muggle parents knew there was something different about their daughter, and they often contemplated where her special talents would take her; but peering up at the darkly cloaked man standing before her, Miriam knew that this scenario had never crossed their minds. Being forced (against her will) to enter into a government sanctioned marriage so she could be abused by any Death Eater willing to pay the fee -- no, that was not what any of them had expected.
"Relax," the man cooed softly into her ear, "and this won't hurt a bit."
Her reflexes taking over, her muscles tensed up as she prepared for the obligatory spell that always seemed to follow that comment. Depending on their tastes, she would sometimes be hit with a raucous Crucio to get things going, but more often that not Imperio was the spell of choice. From the moment that she was condemned to this life of hell, she learned that no matter what the monsters liked individually, they all loved to be in control.
Standing directly in front of her, her owner for the evening began to lean toward her and she felt compelled to give him her full attention. Although it seemed like an eternity, she knew it had only been a few moments before his eyes seemed to pierce into her own. After a moment of fearful contemplation awaiting his spell, her eyes widened in shock as she heard him whisper, "Legilimens."
Hermione snapped her head up and looked around with a start. Raising a hand to her face, she brushed away a tendril of hair that had escaped its plait and, in the light evening breeze, had been tickling her nose. With a final look into the star-studded sky, and a deep breath of the crisp fall air, she slid off the ledge and left the observatory. Not once seeing the set of eyes staring at her intently from the shadows.
Not sure of how long she had been away, Hermione raced through the hallways of Hogwarts at a breakneck pace. Reaching the entrance to Snape's private quarters, she hesitated in front of the now familiar tapestry as the pixies eyed her curiously. Peering back at them, she began to calculate how much help they could be to her versus how much trouble they would be for her.
"Oy!" She was startled from her calculations at the insistence of a rather bold pixie sporting a cluster of bananas on his head. "Are you coming in, or are you just gonna stand there all night long? These things get heavy after awhile."
Glancing around, she noticed that the pixies had gathered up their feast and were impatiently clinging to the sides of the tapestry. As she stood before them, wondering how best to handle the mischievous creatures, she noticed a number of annoyed glances being exchanged between them.
"S-Sorry," she stammered, wondering if their location as sentries to Snape's office gave them the same allegiance to Slytherin as the Fat Lady had to Gryffindor.
"I was just wondering..." she started with some hesitation, "If you were at all aware..."
"Go on, go on," shouted on elderly pixie, "we haven't got all day." Looking over at a younger pixie who was clinging to the corner of the tapestry with one hand and shoving a plum in his mouth with his other, the elder lamented, "with my luck as soon as she leaves that dreadful Snape will be back and we'll have to do this all over again!"
The comment was met with a barrage of grumbling, and as more of them joined in, Hermione knew she had found an ally -- in fact she found a whole tapestry full of them.
"A-Actually, that's what I wanted to ask you," Hermione forced herself to ask rather timidly. "I was supposed to meet Professor Snape here, but I'm afraid I'm rather late. I was hoping I hadn't missed him."
At the mention of the exacting professor, the pixies went silent and stared at her quizzically. As they looked her up and down with their collective critical eyes, Hermione heard one of them whisper loudly, "this one has been here quite a bit as of late."
Dangling upside down at the top of the tapestry, her feet tangled in the grape vines that framed a faux window, a childish pixie replied curiously, "you have to wonder what a Gryffindor is doing in the private quarters of a Slytherin."
"And at this time of night," completed another with a broad wink of his eye.
Attempting to hide her blush from the implications of the comment and the burgeoning giggles of the impish creatures, Hermione turned her head slightly and instinctively moved her hand to cover her face.
"Blimey, that's her! She's the one! It's true!"
Startled by the outburst, Hermione looked around as the lone pixie's shouts echoed throughout the hallway. Fearing she could be caught outside of her makeshift prison, she attempted to quiet the attack, but to her surprise all of the shushing and hand waving only succeeded in making the situation worse. Finally noticing that the pixies were following her hands -- her left hand as a matter of fact -- with rapt attention, she realized what was causing the commotion. They had spied her wedding ring.
"So, is it true?"
"It can't be true!"
"Did she really marry him?"
"The proof is right there!"
Abandoning not only their food but also their safe harbors, the creatures began to gather in the center of the tapestry as they immediately took up the role of school magpies.
"It was all because of that law I say!"
"Oh that law, that wonderful romantic law," gushed one of the pixies. Wiping away the porridge from her head, the remnants of a bowl that had toppled off a tree branch during the excitement, she batted her lashes at a rotund pixie that appeared more interested in the discarded food at the banquet table than the advances of his love-struck companion. "To think, after all those years of fighting and wizarding bigotry they were finally free to marry. How romantic."
"The Fat Lady said it would never happen, but Ingrid the Impossible said that it was all he's been talking about for weeks," one of the pixies imparted with assurance as he folded his lanky frame into an empty chair at the end of the table. "Quite a horny little fellow if you ask me," he whispered slyly to his rotund friend. "The things he has planned would melt your knickers," he snickered knowingly.
"Pfft," an elderly pixie admonished loudly. "Keep your dirty comments to yourself, young man. I'll not have you ruining this." Quite a bit softer she added, "nothing ever happens down here. Just once before I die, I want to watch that cow Malevolence's face when I give her the what for." Turning to Hermione, she immediately brightened, "so my dear, are you here for a midnight rendezvous with your new husband? It's a rather odd location, but if that's what all the young ones are doing these days."
"W-Well," Hermione hesitantly began.
"Oh, of course she is!" Piped up another pixie as she peeked her head out from under the tablecloth. "Where else would they go to be alone, like you said, nothing ever happens here. It's the quietest place in the school, no worries about prying eyes or interruptions." Turning towards Hermione, the pixie murmured conspiratorially as she was pulled back under the table, "You've been the talk of the portraits for weeks my dear, it's about time you two lovebirds finally tied the knot."
"Well, that's all well and good," the elderly pixie interrupted in an attempt to take back control of the conversation, "but where is that new husband of yours. That wretched Snape finally left you alone hours ago, shouldn't Draco have been here by now?"
"Draco?"
"Yes my dear, your new husband," the pixie said, exasperation creeping into her voice.
"No, no, no," Hermione began with a mixture of panic and loathing. Scanning the tapestry she looked into their knowing eyes, brimming with details of the latest gossip, and finally realized what had been going around the castle for weeks. "You've got it all wrong," she shouted. "I didn't -- I mean I would never -- not under any circumstances -- would I ever -- marry Draco Malfoy."
"Oh," the elderly pixie sighed dejectedly and the other pixies began to grumble. "The fat lady said she saw you being returned to the towers yesterday, so everyone assumed you were getting to know your future Head of House and making plans for your new residence in the dungeons" she hastily explained.
"Yes, and then when the Headmaster requested a marriage license everyone assumed..." the pixie from under the table chimed in as she crept out of her hiding spot.
"But isn't she wearing a ring?" Interrupted a jam-covered pixie that popped his head out from under the table beside her.
"Yes, and then we just assumed..." she trailed off. "Oh wait! That is a wedding ring," she called out excitedly, hugging her companion and covering herself in jam for her efforts.
"Which means there was a wedding," someone called out.
"And a groom," added a third, and soon the entire tapestry was again engrossed in the story.
Sitting back on the settee, his appetite satiated from newly gathered information, Snape stole a moment to relax. Looking over at the slightly dazed girl slouched on the bed; he began to formulate his cover story. He knew Miriam - or Mimi as her family called her - wouldn't be talking to anyone else tonight, but he hadn't gotten this far in life without taking care of the smallest details.
Clearing his throat and coughing from the dryness that suddenly filled his lungs, Snape was reminded of his earlier suffering at the hands of Lucius Malfoy. Lying face down in the dirt and enduring Malfoy's repeated bouts of Crucio was yet another illustration of how the war was ravaging both his body and mind -- while his dear friend was able to coast along without a care in the world.
He had to be honest with himself on this point though, because while lying face down in the dirt was never fun, that was not really the root of his problems. In his estimation, casting spells on others was easy, but vigilantly guarding your own mind while ransacking the minds of others? That took far more effort to maintain than most people realized, and the fact that he was required to do that on a daily basis was of his own doing and something that couldn't be blamed on the blond-haired buffoon.
"I'm getting too old for this line of work," he croaked through strained vocal chords.
Reluctantly pulling himself from his resting place, Snape regained his position before the unlikely informant. Looking into her eyes again, he called out, "Obliviate." As the spell began to seep into her, he saw her wan look began to clear and hoped he had chosen the right story. He had originally thought about replacing his visit with a carbon copy of one of her many evenings at the brothel, but under the circumstances, he ultimately decided on something a bit more appealing.
Knowing that every convincing lie keeps somewhat to the truth, Snape made sure that she remembered seeing an imposing Death Eater enter her room. Obviously looking for an evening of debauchery, the powerful wizard hit her with a strong Crucio to set the mood. Unable to see his face behind the customary mask, Mimi could tell from his ostentatious gestures that he believed himself to be a man of unparalleled power and required total subservience in others -- especially if it meant he had free reign to lash out at the weak and powerless.
Tossing her trembling body onto the bed, the Death Eater sat down next to her and began to trail his fingers along the thin material of her bodice. As the waves of pain from the curse began to lift, she was immediately assaulted by the dark stranger as he moved his body on top of her. Stifling her with his weight, he whispered vile obscenities in her ear as he began to massage her tender breasts with rough hands.
"You are nothing more than a Mudblood for hire," the dark man whispered, his voice filled with venom. "You may taunt many in the Pureblood race with that luscious body, but like any good slave, your rightful place will always be in service to your master."
Seeing her tremble at his words, he added cruelly, "Don't be afraid little one, I will give you ample opportunity to service me... in fact, I do believe you will service me over and over again tonight."
Turning her head to the side, she tried to hide the hot tears that had begun to run down her cheek. It wasn't as if this treatment was new to her, but it was something she vowed she would never get used to. Normally she tried to occupy her mind with other thoughts while the streams of men abused her body, but before she was able to disassociate from her surroundings, her master suddenly pushed himself away from her. His greedy hands, apparently finished with kneading her breasts, gripped her bodice, and for a moment she felt herself being lifted off the bed.
"Look at me," he shouted. "I paid good money for you, and I'll not have you ruin my evening!"
His angry words rang throughout the room, and although her fervent wish was to ruin his evening, she knew better then to disobey. Holding her breath in fear of what was to happen next, she slowly turned her head to face him and gasped as he ripped apart the sheer material to expose her breasts.
Tossing her onto the bed, the Death Eater watched with delight as her ample bosoms quivered as she hit the soft mattress. Grateful that they were liberated from their confines, he lightly pushed at his mask to allow his lips to welcome them. Upon hearing the young girl moan in delight, he responded with a deep-throated laugh in kind. This was going to be too easy.
Pushing himself away from his feast, he quickly adjusted his mask before raising his head to meet her eyes. Seeing her shudder in fear, the Death Eater laughed again before jumping of the bed and grabbing a handful of her hair.
"Unbutton my pants," he barked while pulling her head towards his groin. "I have a very large treat for you." Feeling her resist his efforts, he leaned over and spat out, "there is no use dawdling, it's something you will become very well acquainted with this evening."
With a look of pure hatred, Mimi slowly unbuttoned his pants and watched as they dropped to the floor. Unwilling to look at his naked body, she averted her eyes so as to not see his erection until the last possible moment. Moving her hands to touch him, she tentatively inched her fingers up his leg in search of the supposed treat.
Reaching the end of his leg, she hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to continue. As many times as she had been in this position, there was something different about this time -- but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. Not wanting to anger him any further, she gave her attention to matter at hand, and was surprised to come in contact with something she had never felt before. Realization finally hitting her, she opened her eyes in shock and found herself face-to-face -- not with the large treat she had been expecting, but with his itsy-bitsy, flaccid member.
She was barely able to avert the shocked laugh from escaping her lips, but having never been in this position before, she was still unsure of how to proceed. Should she coax the little guy out of his shell, or just sit and wait it out?
Taking another long look, she couldn't help thinking that the sad, pathetically limp penis looked so small that, even if it were fully inflated, it would never be able to do its job. As her thoughts ran wild, she felt the need to stifle back a giggle as childhood visions of "the little engine that could" ran through her mind.
Hearing the snort escape from his companion, the Death Eater realized all was not well, and quickly tossed her aside in a fit of rage. Mimi hit the floor with a loud thump, and looked up just in time to see the pitiful excuse for a monster take matters into his own hands -- literally.
Watching him rapidly work himself over in a pathetic desire to bring on an erection, she couldn't help but feel disgusted. As the sweat began to drip down his body from the utter futility of his actions, Mimi raised her head to look him square in the eye. At that moment, she vowed to never let any man control her again.
Blaming her for his inability to perform, Mimi felt the impact of a strong backhand her across the face just before she tumbled to the ground. Momentarily reeling from the blow, she turn back just in time to see the coward pull up his pants before heading for the door.
Snape knew that he only needed to leave the young girl with a memory in which she was in control, rather than being controlled by others, but as he thought over the day's events, he quietly amended the end of the story.
So, as the Death Eater walked from the room, her memory now included a brief glimpse of the coward as his mask inadvertently slipped off his face. Snape couldn't help but smile as the sly grin formed on the young girl's face. The story might never go any further than the two of them, but he knew that it would be something neither one of them would forget. It was not that often that a Mudblood got to see Lucius Malfoy, Voldemort's right hand man, looking so... inadequate.
Satisfied that the story had taken hold in her memory, Snape turned away and walked to the door. Just before he lifted the wards, he cast a strong sleeping spell on the young girl. Not waiting around as she toppled carelessly off the bed, he flung open the door and called out "Avada Kedavra" with as much venom as he could muster. Amid of swirl of deadly sparks, her body hit the floor with a hollow thud and soon the hallway was filled with multiple Death Eaters in various states of undress.
"Snape! Why did you do that?" Yelled out a man sporting nothing but his mask and a full erection.
"That's why we don't let you in here," snarled another, fully dressed and apparently waiting for his turn. "You kill all the new girls before we all get our fun."
Pushing past them, Snape yelled out to the house elf lurking in the corner, "take care of that one for me. I don't want that corpse stinking up this fine establishment."
Turning to his fellow revelers, he mockingly explained, "Don't despair dear friends, I managed to save all of you from a most horrendous evening."
As Snape walked away from the furor, nobody noticed Winkey, their most trusted house elf, dispose of the dead rat in the corner of the room and spirit away yet another of her Master Snape's heavily sedated young girls.