AN: I want to warn everyone ahead of time that this is a dark fic. There is graphic violence, assault, and character death. If you are looking for something warm and fuzzy, this is not the right fic for you. This is a part of a Dark Fic Fest, so naturally, this fic will have a dark undertone.
I don't own these characters, I merely plot out their lives...
Alpha/Beta love to my amazing village of support: Bondgirltrb, Kiridraca, SyrenGrey. You guys keep my head on straight
XOX
Hermione found herself being roughly dragged by the wrist through the rusted gate of her cell. She desperately tried to keep up, but her shoulder burned and her wrist ached as Snape gripped her relentlessly and yanked her forward. She knew the bruises that were forming on her wrist beneath his strong grip would be the least of her problems, but for the time being, it was all she could focus on as her bones grinded against each other.
She jutted forward as Snape tugged on her arm when she started to fall behind. She was exhausted from battle and their journey was long.
"Hurry up, girl," Snape snarled.
His voice echoed in the rancid-smelling tunnel he was leading her through. Moonlight shone through at the end and realized she was being taken outside. Tears stained her cheeks and her sinuses clogged as she cried for Ron. How much more would she have to suffer through? She had lost friends and family and witnessed horrific things. Still, despite their bravery, the wrong side won– she was a muggleborn, the lowest of skum according to this new world order.
She shivered as the cool air kissed her skin when they exited the scrap of clothing she was wearing did little to shield her from the elements. She dug her heels into the dirt when she realized they were walking towards the Forbidden Forest. Nothing good ever happened there. How many detentions had been earned from traipsing about after hours? How many times had Harry and Ron almost lost their lives? She choked back a sob. Oh, her boys. Her brothers. Her friends. They had lost their lives today, one within the very forest she was now being escorted through. A sharp tug on her arm brought her instep with Snape.
The magical creatures all stepped out from behind the trees and other obstacles to observe her condemnation. Some, like the centaurs, bowed their heads in respect, although she wasn't sure if it was respect for her bravery, support for Voldemort, or if they were still bound by Hogwarts to support the Headmaster.
Even if he was a cruel bastard.
Suddenly, Snape stopped. She looked forward, but not in time to prevent herself from crashing into him. He glared down his large nose at her, crooked teeth snarling as his grip tightened. She yelped, clawing at his hand to release her as she fell to her knees, whimpering.
"You will do well to learn your place, mudblood– kneeling at your Master's feet," taunted one of the male death eaters from behind her. She didn't dare turn to look, the low growl of his voice was terrifying enough— no need to put a name to the face.
"Take it out, Snape… show her what she's in for." That voice Hermione would know anywhere. The hairs on the back of her neck stood erect as she felt Bellatrix Lestrange's putrid breath behind her. The crazed witch glided into view, licking her lips as she started to palm Snape's placket.
"Do. Not. Touch, Bella," he sneered, smacking her hand away.
"Don't you want me to get you hard, Sevy? Or do you need a dirty little mudblood cunt for that?" The witch's lips curled in a sneer, revealing her blackened teeth from years of neglect.
Snape pulled his wand, pointing it towards Bellatrix with a murderous expression when Voldemort arrived. The ebony wand was quickly sheathed, and his face returned to the expressionless mask he wore so well, the jeering came to an abrupt stop, as if a silencing charm had been used. Hermione took advantage of the quiet to look around. She had been led out to the middle of the forest. Small beams of moonlight peeked through the trees, illuminating a stone altar. The casket-like shape and size seemed fitting, for if her body didn't die tonight, her spirit surely would. As she was led to the predella, Hermione swallowed her fear. She raised her chin high and refused to cower. If she fell tonight, she'd fight like hell first. Snape had finally let go of her wrist, which her other hand instantly clasped, rubbing gently to restore circulation and comfort herself.
Hermione shivered, missing the warmth of Snape's body as he walked away from her, and hating herself for feeling that way. But… rather the enemy you know , than the one you don't, she mused. No matter how scared she was… the unknown sadism of the Death Eaters was worse.
"My loyal followers!" Voldemort's voice echoed throughout the woods. "Severus will now partake in his boon. A reward for his never ending loyalty, despite our…misunderstanding earlier." The crowd tittered as they recalled how Snape had his throat slit over the elder wand. "Take your flesh, Severus. Bind her to you in mind, and then take her innocence. It is well deserved."
Snape had relocated to the altar, looking out to the congregation like some sort of dark priest standing behind his pulpit. Hermione began to tremble, anxiety pulsing around her. She could deal with any situation, as long as she knew what it was. It was this unknowing that drove her mad. Soon, she felt herself being lifted from under her arms roughly, skin being pinched beneath greedy fingers. She kicked and screamed, desperate to free herself. The Death Eaters carrying her only laughed, each grabbing one of her legs to prevent any damage to themselves. They sat her on the cold stone in front of Snape, her eyes drawn to the hypnotic pull of his black ones. Desperate to find meaning behind them, some sort of sign that this wasn't really going to happen.
She found nothing but two deep, dark pools of emptiness.
Hermione yelped as her thighs were pinched, pried open into a wide "v" as she was forced to straddle her professor's hips. Snape stepped closer, pushing her down flat on the stone, pinning her arms to the side as he leaned over her like he was preparing to devour her. She felt caged in– wanted to scream, fight– anything! But he was too strong.
"Bind her!" someone called out, "She's moving too much!"
"No," hissed Voldemort. "The magic will interfere with the ritual." He shot a burning hex over his shoulder, silencing the heckler.
The corners of Snape's mouth curled up into a snarl that made her tremble beneath him. She was spread out on full display, as the tunic she had been provided offered little coverage to her genitals when her legs were this open. She whimpered as she struggled against his grip, her skin burned with the abrasions from the stone beneath.
Voldemort had begun to speak and Hermione strained to hear what he was saying, but her body kept reacting to the heat that was radiating from Snape. For some reason she almost felt safe with him towering over her. She wanted to trust him, but couldn't, not after everything that had happened. She only picked up on a few hissed words:
" ... animas illas ligare…sanguis in sanguine… imperium completum…semper tenetur…"
Snape grabbed her by the wrist of her left arm, holding it out on display as if she were to be crucified, not that Hermione Granger would make a good martyr– that was supposed to be Harry's job. Besides, there was no one left to mourn her.
He raised a small dagger to her flesh and muttered something in Latin for only her to hear. "Paenitet ," he said, right before he started to carve her skin, speaking the other words so fluently that she couldn't possibly keep up. She resolved herself to try to remember everything he said with the hope of an opportunity to research it later.
Pain beyond anything she had ever encountered before coursed through her. A white-hot heat that could easily compete with a Cruciatus tore through her nerve endings. She clenched her teeth as hard as she could, bucking and kicking against Snape's body. He was cutting something into her left forearm as she cried out, begging for her mother, begging for Ron and Harry– for anyone to come rescue her.
But everyone was long gone. This was her new reality. She had managed to squirm her way free twice, resulting in muttered curses from the man when she messed up his precious artwork.
Good , she thought. She felt his hand release her wrist, his masterpiece was as finished as he was going to get. Snape backed away, waiting for his Master to observe his work. The warm blood trickled down onto the table as her body silently shook as she sobbed. She turned her head away, unwilling to look at her new brand.
"Very good, Severus. What a shame your pet was less than obedient for your Mark. It is always much harder when they don't comply."
"Indeed, my Lord."
"Do you think you will be able to control her fully now? Did the enchantment take?" Voldemort reached over to Hermione, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, almost kindly, chuckling when she flinched at the touch.
"I do, my Lord," Snape responded confidently.
Voldemort seemed to pause for a few moments, no doubt listening to the angry murmurs within the crowd of Death Eaters. Chuckling, he turned back to Snape. "Your brothers and sisters have come for a show, Severus. I think it is time you finally partake in the pleasures of the flesh," Voldemort said with a beguiling tone.
"My Lord–" Snape started but was quickly interrupted.
"You no longer have Albus Dumbledore to hide from Severus," the Dark Lord snarled before continuing in a softer tone. "No Order to pretend to work for. You can now finally let yourself off the leash, give in to your darkest fantasies – I assure you, my boy, they will be rewarded in this new world order."
The group cheered and whistled at Voldemort's promise. Hermione braved a glance up to her professor, a man she once trusted with her life, with tear-rimmed eyes. He looked stoic and cold. She willed him to look at her. Perhaps–if she could just get him to look into her mind— maybe there was still good left in him.
"Take her, Severus. Now. With us as your witnesses," Voldemort commanded.
"Yes, my Lord," Snape responded automatically. The icy, emotionless tone of his voice chilled her to the bone . His hands slid to his belt buckle, quickly unclasping it before releasing the buttons for his fly. Hermione screamed, begging for help.
But no one came. She cried as she listened to Snape adjust his robes. She couldn't see anything from this angle unless he was directly on top of her, and for that, she was grateful. She had never thought of Professor Snape as an anatomical man–one with pumping blood and emotions and… other… appendages.
She gasped, trying to kick him away when she felt the hot skin of his penis rubbing against her folds. His bulbous head demanded entrance but her own body refused to cooperate, unwilling to ease his advancement with even the slightest bit of lubricant. He growled, obviously displeased that she wasn't better prepared for his invasion. Snape leaned forward, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look into his eyes. With a low growl, one likely meant only for her ears, he warned her. "Your body is not prepared, Miss Granger. This will hurt–"
And he thrust forward, tearing her delicate tissues with his turgid member. She screamed– humiliated and wounded down to her very soul that this man that she trusted for so many years could take her virtue with so little concern or reaction.
As quickly as it started, he withdrew, siphoning her virginal blood into a glass phial. As he started to tuck himself away, the audience started to argue, yelling their displeasure. Snape kept his head down, focused on his buttons and ignoring the taunts from the onlookers.
" Oi! What was that?"
"Come on, Snape! Give us a show!"
"You wanker!"
"What's wrong? Can't keep it up, mate?"
Their voices were getting louder and more angry. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, too afraid to even breathe as she listened to the Death Eaters begin to riot. From what she could tell, Snape remained in front of her. Once again, Voldemort displayed his ability to silence his followers instantaneously. She opened one eye to see the dark wizard standing with his arms in the air, robes billowing behind him, giving him the illusion of a much larger frame.
Hermione found the yelling to be a good distraction from her aching arm. Looking down, she saw the deep, crimson blood trickling down her skin. Her stomach churned in disgust. He had carved, or attempted to carve, his name into her. It would appear her fighting prevented him from getting all the letters done. She'd take that small victory.
Hermione was starting to grow cold, and now that the ritual had been completed, she felt a rush of deeper embarrassment at her lewd position. Surely, the Professor was done and could let her close her legs… right?
"Severus. Did you get enough of it's blood?" Voldemort hissed.
"Indeed, my Lord."
"Then I shall take my leave." He turned to the crowd, announcing something to them that Hermione couldn't quite hear, before twisting into a cloud of black smoke and disappearing.
Bellatrix sauntered up to Snape then, taunting him. "What's wrong Snape? Little Sevvy didn't want to come out and play? I bet I could inspire him." She licked her lips and reached for him, only to be pushed away once more. "We came for a show!" Bellatrix was yelling now, loud enough for the other Death Eaters to start cheering behind her. She cackled, walking down the dais and joining her cohorts.
They were all screaming… pushing forward and starting to brawl. Hermione was panicking. What was going to happen if they all made their way up the stairs? Would Snape let them all have their way? Would she be torn to threads? She whimpered, tightening her thighs around her professor's waist without thinking. His head snapped down, looking at her with an emotion that left her breathless. The problem was, she couldn't tell what emotion it was. She opened her mouth, hoping he'd be receptive to her pleas to be protected.
He glanced up, pulling his wand and snarling as the Death Eaters closed in. "Back off," he growled, shifting slightly into a dueling stance. "She's mine. I do. Not. Share." He fired off a stinging hex, just as a warning. But a few of them started firing back. Snape cast a shielding charm, grabbing Hermione's waist as he leaned over her, taking advantage of having the higher ground.
Suddenly she felt Snape squeeze her hip. He was completely frozen for a few seconds, evidentially a hex made its way through the shield. Bellatrix's high pitched laugh rang out above the raucous. "The night's not over boys!" she taunted.
Snape looked down at Hermione now. His eyes were completely black, without even a sliver of white showing through. He reached down and ripped open his placket. Hermione's eyes widened.
"No! No you can't—"
Before she knew it, his trousers had dropped and he was inside her again. She fought against him , feeling the stone cutting against her skin as she was desperate to break free. With a surge of power, she growled, feeling the electricity of her magic trying to protect her. She broke through his grip once, bringing her fist into contact with Snape's overly large nose.
She cried out at the pain in her knuckles as she continued to punch and claw at the man. But Snape merely grunted as he continued to thrust inside her, hands bruising her waist to keep her still. As he was preparing to thrust again, she was able to slip free, quickly rolling to her stomach to attempt to crawl away.
"Oh no, you don't," hissed Snape. He grabbed her by the ankles and pulled her back to him so she was bent over the altar. He grabbed his length and slammed it back into her, making her cry out in frustration and pain. With one hand on her hip and the other hand shoved into her riotous curls, he began to move within her. This angle was much, much worse. He seemed to be so much deeper, the ridges of his cock seemed to brush against something deep inside her, making Hermione whimper. She felt betrayed as her body started reacting in favor of the violation.
"That's it, Miss Granger. Just relax," Snape groaned. "It'll be much quicker that way."
This was it. She had lost. Tears fell from her eyes silently as her body continued to scrape against the stone. Hermione turned her head, looking out into the forest as her body continued to be used. It was peaceful now… almost. She focused on the way the breeze rustled the leaves of the trees, the occasional hoot of an owl as it flew overhead. She could even focus on the rocking of her body as she was pressed further and further against the stone, the burning of her forearm as it scraped against the altar kept her grounded. She closed her eyes and listened to Snape's soft grunts.
Whistling and cat-calls drew her attention as his head snapped up to see a circle of thirty or more Death Eaters watching with hungry eyes, some enjoying their own company a bit too much at her expense. There were groans erupting throughout the voyeurs as they had started to reach their own release. Snape, she had noticed, was starting to thrust sloppily as his own orgasm drew nearer, he grabbed a fistful of hair, holding her head up down forcing her to look at the audience. Hermione willed herself to hold on, just a bit longer. There would be time to cry tonight.
With a snarl and snap of his hips, Snape spilled his seed inside her, watching as it dripped out of her channel when he removed himself. He finally let go of her hair, letting her face slam down on the table as she was too exhausted and used to keep her head up of her own accord. Her eyes watered when her nose hit, a trickle of blood smeared the rough surface..
She felt dead inside. She begged for death to come take her, but she wouldn't be so lucky. It seemed Snape's orgasm was the catalyst for the evening to end. She found herself alone with him, bent over the altar with his seed dripping down her thighs. She felt his arms envelop her too gently for what had just happened. He pulled her against his chest before the familiar pull of apparition took them to the Headmaster's quarters.