Major Trigger Warnings, Readers

This is a dark fic, and Severus has to do some dark things here. Non con, use of unforgivables, and general angst lie ahead. Remember, everything happens for a reason. Skip this chapter if the subject of Non Con is a trigger.

Beta love to Bondgirltrb and Alpha love to Syren Grey

XOX

Days 4-5

"Stop fighting it, Miss Granger. You asked for this," Snape grumbled.

Hermione wanted to yell back. To tell him it was so hard to just give into the feeling.

"It's harder than one would think, Sir," she growled. "How do I know—"

"You must trust me."

Hermione scoffed. Snape strengthened his spell as he ground out "trust me… or die."

She relented. Even if she was unaware of his true allegiance, he really was all she had. There was no choice. Trust him… trust that he had her best interests at heart. Otherwise, if she fought this, and he really, truly was a spy…. Then she'd ruin it for the both of them.

Trust him or die, indeed.

Soon, she felt his magic wash over her and she felt herself relax into the spell. It was an amazing feeling, letting him control her like this. Every single thought, fear, or concern was wiped away gently, as a parent would brush the tears from their child's eyes. There was nothing left but happiness. She was so relaxed, so… at ease with everything. She could hear Snape's voice inside her head, commanding her to do things. But instead of feeling fear, she just felt the desire to obey.

Just remember, there will be much to be discussed when I can see to it safely. I'll protect you the best I can but don't do anything foolish.

He grabbed her by her wrist, lightly at first. It was long enough for her to register the sadness behind his eyes, before she watched them dim behind that expressionless mask. He tightened his grip and pulled her from the bathroom roughly.

Obey everything and we just might make it out of here in one piece.

Snape dragged her over to his wardrobe, summoning his Death Eater mask. Deep down, she wanted to shrink away– that mask represented only pain, suffering, and death. Could she trust the man behind it? Or was his newly reported allegiance the real mask?

She felt him force her to bury those thoughts, pulling her close against him as he wrapped his hands around her tightly.

"Calm yourself," he spoke aloud. The next thing she felt was the tight squeeze of the man in front of her, followed by the tug of apparition.

XOX

She didn't know where they were, and truthfully, she didn't care. All she cared about was that she didn't have to make any decisions. Everything would be left up to Snape and she could just coast through life, riding the gently swaying wave until it crashed her to shore. She trailed behind him and to the left, out of his way but still within reach, just as he had compelled her to do.

The first thing she noticed was how many people were there. The room was circular and cold. Stone walls and flagstone flooring gave it a frigid cave-like feel. It was dark inside as well, a few sconces lined the walls, high windows allowed for some of the moonlight to shine in but otherwise, it was a rather dim environment. Mixed with the leather sofas and other furniture strewn about, it seemed like a themed night club more than anything else. She could smell the cigarettes and stale alcohol that drifted in the air.

The room was noisy, full of the chattering from the multiple Death Eaters, scantily dressed women, and.. her friends! She started to fight against the spell then; the old Hermione simmering to the surface, emotions bubbling over as she tried to run to them. George, Ginny, Luna, Neville… they were right there, so close she could almost touch them. But Snape reeled her back.

Calm, Granger.

She obeyed instantly.

Good girl, Snape complimented. You can see your friends later after we meet with the Dark Lord.

Yes, sir, she responded. Once more sinking down below the curse, allowing it to take control now that her mind was quieted. She'd get to see everyone as long as she listened. Gods… it was so nice to feel this good. She wished she could stay like this always. More calmly, she looked around. Trying to focus on the people she knew. Cho Chang was off in a corner with Hannah Abbott, then there was Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas.

Before she could make any more observations, she felt Snape wrap a hand around her wrist, tugging. She was escorted up the dais towards the Lord and Master himself. She was told to kneel and kiss his robes, which she did instantly. Snape did the same. It was strange, seeing the powerful wizard she knew Snape to be genuflecting. They rose together, listening as they were welcomed amongst the other guests.

"My Lord," Snape spoke. "If it pleases you, I would like to allow my pet to run along and play with the others before the festivities begin. Would that be agreeable?"

"Severus," the Dark Lord laughed. "You've always been too soft." Voldemort turned his blood-red eyes onto the pair of them, pausing for a few minutes, contemplating something. Hermione had a fleeting thought about Legilimency but assumed she'd be dead by now if Voldemort wanted to penetrate her mind. After all, there was only hatred for the man, not compliance.

"Go on," he gestured, "let her run. This evening will put matters into perspective for both of you tonight, I should think. She might as well enjoy her illusion of freedom for the night."

Snape nodded his head in understanding. Voldemort had offered him a drink then. Hermione watched as Snape hesitated, only momentarily. It would have been impossible to notice but she felt so attached to him, that she could almost feel his anxiety.

He swallowed it down like a shot. The way the muscles in his jaw clenched made her think it wasn't very pleasant.

Hermione felt Snape nudge her forward a bit, loosening his hold on her. She still felt compelled but her own consciousness was creeping in. From what she had read, and from what Harry had explained to her, this felt different than she expected. Perhaps it was something that Snape had adjusted for her, or maybe he just cast it differently? He was a very powerful wizard, afterall.

She couldn't have cared less when she finally made her way to the sea of people, searching out the two redheads.

"Hermione!" Ginny pulled her into a tight embrace. It's witches started crying as they looked over one another. Ginny looked awful. The poor girl was dressed only in lingerie. Black lace clung to her, so sheer that everything was on display.

"Oh, and George!" Hermione lurched towards him next. She felt safe in his arms, protected like a little sister. He felt thin, his eyes were hollow and he had lost that spark of what made him him.

"Oh Ginny, George… I'm so sorry." She sobbed into the older Weasley's chest. "Ron…Fred," she started, but George just squeezed her tighter to his chest. She could hear the tears he was holding back.

"It doesn't seem real, does it? Any of this? I swear, I can still feel him sometimes. Like he's still with me, you know? But all my happiness is gone. What's the point?" The remaining twin cleared his throat and took a gentle step back.

"The point is to fight," growled Ginny. "I'll never give into that bastard. I'll fight like hell until it kills me."

Hermione wanted to smile at her friend's bravery. Here was Ginny, taking abuse that had to have been worse than her own, and yet here she was. Standing tall and confident, unbothered by her injuries and determined.

Hermione found herself to be disappointed in her own actions. Harry and Ron would be disgusted to know how quickly she gave up.

"Oh, Gin," Hermione breathed. The witch wanted to say more, she really tried, but she felt the caress of magic and knew Snape wouldn't let her. She felt the swirling, calming effect of his curse pulling her back gently into compliance.

She had wanted to cry more, stay with her friends, but offered a small smile instead. Ginny, for her part, kept her chin held high, brown eyes blazing with a fiery passion that matched her red hair. Ginny was strong, unbreakable. She had lost two brothers and a lover– murdered, right in front of her. She has quite obviously been beaten, likely raped, just as much, if not more than she had. Hermione appreciated her friend's tenacity and decided she wouldn't give up so easily.

She looked around then, seeing Luna kneeling down by Rowle's feet. She looked serene, not a mark on her. She seemed almost happy. Was she under an Imperious too?

Her eyes scanned the rest of the crowd. Dolohov was standing over with Snape and Rowle.

The Lestrange brothers stood with their evil bitch of a sister towards the center of the room. They were crowded around someone, taking turns hexing and kicking the poor person. Bellatrix moved aside for a moment, giving Hermione a peak at who it was.

Oh God! Neville!

She lunged forward, only to be pulled back once more by Snape. The cool, relaxing feeling washed over her again. Hermione tried to fight, but to no avail. He had pulled her back under his control completely. She couldn't help her friend.

"Brothers and Sisters," Voldemort hissed, standing from his throne and raising his arms above his head. "It seems the Lestranges have gotten started a bit earlier than planned," he laughed. "Let us all join in on the frivolity, hmm?" Chaos started to erupt all around her as the Death Eaters ran amongst the crowd, grabbing whoever they could find.

Come back to me, Miss Granger. You are needed.

Hermione turned, almost trance-like and started walking back to Snape.

"Hermione! What are you doing?" questioned Ginny. But Hermione didn't have a choice, she simply turned her head towards her friend and smiled.

"It's ok," she said dreamily, "I'm needed somewhere else. It'll all be okay." Her friend gave her a look of horror before being pulled away by Dolohov with a growl. Hermione turned then, walking towards the dais where Snape stood, wanting to turn back and help her friend. Instead, she was greeted by the wizard, looking down on her with those deep, black, unforgiving eyes. He had a snarl plastered to his face, shoulders slumped forward as he awaited her.

She felt his magic once more and was almost excited to be walking towards him. She wasn't fearful at all. Again, she found herself wishing it could always be like this–that she would long to be near him, crave him, love him.

"Kneel."

Hermione felt her body lower her to the cold ground, knees resting on the flagstone as she knelt between Snape's spread legs, facing him.

"Severus! How truly charming your boon is," Voldemort cooed. "So well behaved. Tell me, how is your Mark working? Does she fight it?"

Severus shook his head. "She no longer tries to fight, my Lord."

"Well done, my boy. I was afraid with the way she fought you, that your Mark wouldn't set properly. It pleases me to know you have gained her obedience."

As if on cue, Snape reached down and started petting her head. Why did that make her want to purr?

"And what of the curse?"

Hermione felt Snape's fingers twitch, catching in her hair momentarily before he returned to stroking her.

"My Lord?" His voice was strong but she felt his fear. It made her own stomach churn, although she was helpless to react.

"The curse," Voldemort grinned. "Oh, yes, Severus, I know all about it. We both know how much my dear Bella likes to run that delicious mouth of hers."

Snape closed his hand again, fisting her hair.

"It must be killing you– watching all of this and not participating. Your drink that you quaffed earlier, I admit to spiking. I thought it would be more entertaining for everyone to have a lust potion. It would be horribly boring to wait out everyone's… endurances, don't you think?"

Hermione watched as Snape looked down at her, continuously petting while his eyes gave away his terror. She prayed that Voldemort wouldn't notice.

"I must admit," the serpentine wizard started, "that I spiked yours with something a bit extra."

Snape turned his head slowly to look at his master, who was smiling with an almost manic delight.

"I put in a small dose of tranquilizer, Severus, to slowly wear off. I would've hated to see you lose your head so quickly. I find I like it better this way." He leaned back in his seat, looking over his parish as he continued to speak. "Once the tranquilizer runs its course, which should be any moment, I should think, the curse will hit you harder than it has before."

Snape's eyes widened a bit, causing Voldemort to scoff.

"Not to worry, the lust potion will take care of your endurance to see you through to completion multiple times. Your pain should be minimal, provided you don't fight it. But then again, why would my most loyal servant do that?" Voldemort was grinning like a madman, obviously enjoying the torment of his second in command.

"Go on, I won't mind. I don't wish any pain upon you tonight. Relax. Enjoy… Let me enjoy your enjoyment." The Dark Lord smiled, bearing his pointed teeth as he raked his eyes over the both of them.

A spike of distress flowed between the both of them. Surely Voldemort didn't mean…

Severus remained motionless, looking down at her, as she looked up at him. His eyes had a warning flash before they returned to that deep pool of black. She could feel his pain. A horrible stomach cramping that made her feel like she was being torn open from the inside. She wanted to scream, to retch— how often had he had to endure this? The longer he waited, the worse it felt. Her bones started to ache, a deep almost burning pain. It was becoming unbearable.

"Perhaps one of my whores to warm you up, Severus? Is your boon no longer pleasing to you? We can get you another one," the Dark Lord taunted.

"No. That won't be necessary."

I'm so sorry, Miss Granger.

Deep down, she registered her own fear. She noted the pain behind his eyes before they darkened into a foreboding black hole that wanted to swallow her whole. He must have strengthened his spell. Once more, she felt the cool waves carry her off to safety without any cause for concern.

She watched, patiently, as he shifted his hips down in the chair, releasing his belt and unbuttoning his fly.

"Take it out," he commanded, eyes burning into hers. How could she have not noticed how quickly they changed when he was compelled? He was a completely different man within seconds. Between the crescendo of building pain and Snape's Imperio, she was more than willing to agree.

It was a strange feeling, this compulsion. She watched from inside her body as her hands reached out to touch him– as her hand wrapped around his length and freed it from his pants. She remained still, waiting for his next command. She felt the pain lessen, albeit it slightly. Did the curse know it was getting sated?

"Go on," he growled, "open for me."

We have to do this, he warned.

She pressed her hands flat to his thighs, parting her lips and looking up at him. Snape took himself in hand, smearing the tip across her lips before bouncing his heavy cock against her bottom one.

He likes to watch, Miss Granger. He wants a demonstration.

She tried to show in her eyes that she understood. The pain was growing once more, and she begged him to start.

Finally, he pressed forward. Hermione had the wherewithal to cover her teeth before he fully entered her, or perhaps that was Snape's compulsion as well. It didn't matter. As soon as she tasted him… the silky, salty texture of his arousal, she closed her eyes, lost in this new sensation.

She didn't have much say in the pace. Snape had grabbed the back of her head, one hand still fisting his cock as he lowered her over his length. With each thrust of his hips, his hand bumped her mouth, making her lips go numb.

It was hard work, taking him like this. When she was of sound mind, she'd appreciate the loss of control, she decided. Her jaw ached and she struggled to keep her teeth protected. By now, she would've stopped. But that wasn't up to her tonight.

As he maintained his brutal pace, his grip on her head tightened. He was pushing her down harder and faster. She gagged once, when he hit the back of her throat, and the groan that was torn from him was one of the most erotic things she had ever experienced. She felt herself grow wet, her body betraying her currently dormant mind, hoping for some attention that would come.

"Fuck," he groaned as he spent inside her mouth, thighs twitching beneath her claw-like grip.

He grabbed her by the chin, jerking her head off of him.

"Show me," he commanded. Hermione opened her mouth, showing him the result of her effort. His eyes smoldered as he sat back against his chair, reclining now that his own curse was purring. "Swallow it. Then face away from me, I don't want to look at you."

Hermione looked right at him as she obeyed. The bitter taste turned her empty belly but she couldn't do anything but shiver. She hated him for making her show Voldemort that. She turned around, sitting back between his legs and looked out over the debauchery.

Granger. His voice echoed inside her head— cracked, broken.

Don't. She snapped back. She didn't want to think about anything. She felt him pull back from her mind, raising the strength of her Imperious once more.

She could hear that there was a conversation behind her, but she couldn't focus on it. She could only hear the muted murmurs of the two dark wizards at her back. Was this to her benefit? Was he protecting her? Or was she simply blocking everything out?

Her eyes scanned the room once more. There were women, naked and giggling, being tossed about– shared between the Death Eaters and some other women. One was strewn across a black leather sofa, legs spread open for the man whose face was between her legs, while another straddled her face and was plunging himself deep into her throat. Another group had men thrusting against each other, pulling hair and growling as they sought their own releases.

She was numbed to it all, thankfully. I passive witness to some sort of traumatic event that she just couldn't empathize with. Not yet, anyway.

"No!"

It was the strangled cry of George Weasley that Grabbed Hermione's attention. Snape's too, it would seem by the sudden tightening of his grip in her hair and quick inhale.

Dolohov was a brutal man, Hermione knew this firsthand. But the things he was doing to Ginny–

George was being restrained by two masked men, fighting hard and screaming. Hermione was desperate to see what was happening, but Snape, it seemed, wouldn't allow it.

Don't look.

Is she alright? I have to help–

This IS helping, Granger. He'll kill her otherwise.

Snape had raised his hex again, keeping Hermione compliant and looking just off to the side. She was close enough to hear everything– the slap of skin on skin, the panting growls of the man, the horribly vile comments he was using to describe her friend. Worst was the screams–Hermione couldn't tell who was screaming louder, Ginny or her brother. She wanted to find George. Where was he?

"You fucking Cunt!" Dolohov cried out. "She bit me!"

There was a commotion, and Dolohov crossed into her field of vision. There was a wall that contained so many devices that could only be meant for torture. She watched as he frantically scanned the wall, grabbing what looked like a whip of some sort, with barbs hanging off the end.

"String her up over there," he commanded.

"No."

Hermione startled when she heard Snape's demand ring out from behind her.

"What did you just say?" Dolohov was turning to look at Snape now. Face bright red with a throbbing vein right in the middle of his forehead.

Snape rose, turning to look at his Master.

"My Lord. I wish to provide a practical demonstration of a proper punishment. Antonin had said just the other day that he wished to learn how to break his whore. Might I demonstrate?"

Voldemort laughed from somewhere behind her. She could almost imagine the arrogant bastard reclining in his throne without a care in the world. "Go on, Severus. I do love your demonstrations."

"Thank you my Lord." Snape physically stepped over Hermione, walking down the stairs with a gait that made him look like an intimidating, hungry predator.

"If you are too brutal, too soon, they just lose their sanity," he purred. "If you want them truly broken– you must have them rely on you for everything. Be kind, at first. Let them trust you, depend on you." He walked over, grabbing the whip from the other man and tossing it off to the side. "Then, you can deliver physical punishment."

"I've watched you beat yours!" he yelled. "We've had them the same amount of time! What makes you think you're so much better, Snape? You've always been an arrogant bastard, but you're no better than me!"

"Actually, Antonin, I am." He raised his chin, staring into Dolohov until the other man relented and took a step back. "I've had her under my direct control since she was 11 years old. I've had years of opportunity to control her, gain her trust, only to have it come crashing down around her!"

Hermione was breathing heavily. Was that all this was? Just a farce to gain her trust so he could break her faster? Well, it was fucking working. She had never been more confused in her entire life.

Dolohov had quieted.

"Good," sneered snape. "Now," he started to walk behind Ginny, Hermione strained her eyes now that he had moved out of her line of sight. She could make out his black-clad body standing behind her friend, bent over slightly.

"Take her to the dungeon and leave her for me. I will see to her punishment in the morning. You have lost that right."

Hermione watched as Snape returned to the dais, kneeling before the Dark Lord before returning to his seat. He spread his legs wide, and this time his spell was so powerful that Hermione didn't need to be told to reposition herself between his thighs. He returned his hand to her head, patting her as if she were a familiar. She felt him lower his spell, slightly, and was now granted the ability to look wherever she wished.

Her eyes snapped down to Ginny, wrapped tightly in a black cloak and in her brother's arms.

"What gives you the fucking right?" a stranger yelled out. The background noises of moans, and pants, and slapping skin was slowly transitioning into whispers and taunts.

"He don't participate in nothin'!" yelled a younger Death Eater. He didn't even have the decency to let go of the witch's hair that he currently held tightly to his groin.

"You don't get to tell us what to do, you wanker."

"Naw… he can't get it up without Lucius here," jeered another. Several bouts of laughter erupted after that.

Hermione felt his tension, his anxiety building with each angry taunt. Her stomach stirred as her own anxiety rose to meet his.

"Enough," hissed Voldemort.

The room went deathly silent.

"Severus has more than earned his place at my side. Without him, none of us would be here. But if any of you take issue with my decisions…?"

The room erupted with multiple "No, My Lord"s and "Sorry, My Lord"s.

"Perhaps you all just seek a demonstration of Severus' abilities?"

Hermione felt Snape's angst. He clearly knew what was coming and didn't want any part of it. There was a loud applause and cheers from the crowd. Apparently they were all in agreement.

"I must admit, Severus, that despite everything, you have been rather… tame. I expected more from you tonight. Surely, you don't need any more inspiration than what is before you?"

Jeers from the other Death Eaters rang out as they started to return to their previous activities of drinking and assault. Hermione remained kneeling, emotionless.

"Let your little pet out to play, Snape!" one called out. Her eyes searched to find the face behind that terrifying voice. She knew she had heard it before…

"Splendid idea, Greyback!" crooned another.

"My Lord," Snape's voice was dark and demanding. "I do not share. Least of all with a wolf."

"Severus," Voldemort warned. "You dare speak out against me?"

"I only wished to convey that I cherish the boon you have graciously granted me, and do not wish to have her broken and bloodied. It is my right, she bares my mark."

"So she does," hissed the dark wizard, eyes tracing the scar on her arm. "Nevertheless… share," those red eyes looked over her body with such horrid intent that Hermione felt herself shiver. "Or be shared. Regardless, you and your boon will be expected to participate fully, this evening. Perhaps I need to increase the potency of Bella's hex? You shouldn't need this much persuasion. It's insulting to argue my demands. Now… while you make your decision, I want you to rise and stand before me."

Snape did so, once again, lazily stepping over her body as if she meant nothing to him.

"Now. For your insolence…Crucio."

Hermione struggled to figure out where that scream was coming from. She struggled to find the source of the white-hot heat that had enveloped her. Her mind was trying to put two ends together but she was struggling to fight both Unforgivables. In the end, the Crucio won.

Her mind was flooded with pain. Heat so intense it felt like her bones were melting. Oh gods… the screaming came from her as she writhed against the floor.

"Is that enough for your compliance, Severus? She is neither broken or bloodied, as per your request," taunted Voldemort.

"A gracious lesson, My Lord. Thank you."

"Very well," Voldemort released his hex. Quickly, too quickly, her now-freed mind was absorbing the events of the night.

Snape likely saw her starting to crumble. He walked over to her, grabbing her roughly by the wrist and pulled her up. He leaned his head down to her ear and whispered "Forgive me," before muttering another, wandless, Imperio.

Once again, she was baptized in the cooling water that was indifference. The trickle of Snape's spell soothed the burn of Voldemort's, leaving her more than receptive for Snape's commands.

"Your decision?" Voldemort prompted.

"I do not share." Snape straightened himself to his full, intimidating height.

"Well, go on, then. Leave her here. Go forth and multiply, as it were," laughed Voldemort.

"Yes, My Lord." Snape bowed, turned and left.

And with that, Hermione found herself alone with Voldemort while Snape walked down the stairs, towards the other women.

"Don't worry, my dear. He'll put on a show for us," taunted the dark wizard. She watched as he raised his wand, hissing out the same spell she had heard 4 nights ago. Snape fell forward, catching himself on a sofa as he was struck, once more, with that damned curse. Voldemort leaned over, brushing hair out of his way as he whispered in her ear.

"Watch this."

XOX

What the fuck had he gotten himself into? It was a simple concept. Protect the girl at all costs. When Dumbledore had, for all intents and purposes, forced Severus to kill him, the final nail in his proverbial coffin, Severus knew he'd be hated by the Order until his death. Which, hopefully, would come soon.

Severus thought he had his chance to die in peace on the floor of that damnable shack but something out there clearly decided he had not suffered enough, and thus allowed him to survive.

Now he found himself curse-bound to Granger, forced to survive unbearable pain as he struggled to fight against the hex. The curse activated with stress, and of course he would be bound to the most stressful witch on the whole bloody planet. Everything about the world now was stressful. He was in constant pain, horrible, wretched pain. But pain meant he was alive, and that Granger was untouched.

He couldn't bare the thought of touching her again. It made him sick anytime it happened. And then of course, of course, the Dark Lord wanted him to share her. Why wouldn't he? It would be entertainment, after all, to see the Golden girl splayed out and being torn apart in front of her friends.

No. He'd damn his own wretched soul even more before he'd ever allow anyone else to touch her.

So he stood and walked down the stairs towards the rest of the populace. Trying to push all thoughts of Granger out of his mind so he could fucking perform like a goddamn puppet. He was almost down the stairs when he felt the hex strike his back.

Cowardly, really, to not even face one's target. But he'd never say that. Severus knew there was only one person behind him. And obviously this person wanted him dead.

Oh, gods, did it hurt. He'd rather take 10 Crucios then suffer one moment longer. He felt his bones burning from the inside, his organs felt like they were melding together. His vision was going blurry as he fell under the haze of the curse. This had only happened once before, that very first time he took Granger in the bed. But this was already worse. To have the curse doubled upon him, with the potion the Dark Lord had provided– surely, he wasn't meant to make it out of tonight untouched.

Desperate, he reached for the first witch he could find, grabbed her by the arm and hauled her off to a dark corner. He might have to do this, but he wasn't going to let the girl watch.

They made it to a small leather chair in a few quick strides. Severus clung desperately to himself, hoping to survive with a little bit of his soul untouched. Mercifully, it was one of the paid whores he had grabbed.

Not rape then.

That thought was enough to put his mind at ease as he was consumed by the curse.

He didn't really have any conscious thought during the event itself. He had a vague feeling of someone unbuttoning his trousers… of a confident hand wrapping around his cock. He felt the hot breath wash over his manhood and the curse sighed happily. He might be able to survive this afterall.

When he felt her hot mouth close around him… he exhaled slowly. It felt good, as far as the curse was concerned but… something about the way she felt was just… wrong. He tried to imagine the witch's blonde hair a little darker, perhaps a lovely shade of brunette. Maybe even a bit unkempt.

Why was that helping?

He focused on the suction the witch was providing him, willing his orgasm to happen sooner rather than later, but the fact gagging and moaning that all whores did now churned his stomach. He was tired of fake lovers.

But the curse didn't care. Not now that it was finally being paid attention.

Severus fisted his hand in her hair, pushing her head down a little more forcefully. The way she keened seemed to show she enjoyed herself.

Oh fuck. He'd have to bring her off too, wouldn't he? To get a respite?

"Touch yourself," he croaked. He could already feel his balls tighten, he needed her to orgasm quickly.

Her motions became sloppier, and sure enough, she took him fully as she cried out around him. He felt himself release, the dark, looming cloud immediately lifting to show him exactly what he had done. He looked down at the face of the young woman, mascara running down her cheeks as she licked her lips. He quickly pushed her off of him, wanting nothing more than to scrub the filth off of his body.

Now focused, he could see the claps and applause of his brethren. They had never seen so much of his cock before this night, and he hoped they'd never expect such a show again.

XOX

"Well done Severus," cheered Voldemort. "Rowle looks awfully comfortable over there," her eyes were drawn to the two people who seemed to almost be cuddling. "Why don't you show him how it's done?" He turned to Hermione then, smiling. "I think you'll enjoy this one a bit more. She's a friend of yours, is it not?"

Oh Merlin. Not Luna! She cried out in her mind, praying that Snape heard her– that he'd save her too, just as he saved Ginny. But no response came. Was he too far gone with the curse? She too could feel his pain, the tears still stained her cheeks from before he took that first woman.

She watched, helplessly as Snape grabbed her friend, pulling her away from the Death Eater, Rowle, evidently, and throwing her down onto the sofa. She heard Snape call out.

"Come here, Rowle. You're going to want to watch this."

Hermione was fighting the unforgivable as hard as she could. Perhaps if she could just break free, she could save her friend.

The large, muscled Death Eater circled around Snape, eyes fixed and burning in rage. Clearly, he also didn't want to share. He was blocking most of her view, blessedly, but she could still see enough to draw her own conclusions.

Snape's shoulders shifted as he pulled down his trousers, the way Luna was being slid against the leathery furniture, a rough hand clenching her wrist when she raised it to strike him. This was unforgivable. Poor Luna.

Hermione fought tirelessly against Snape to no avail. He had completed his task before she completed hers. She failed her friend who simply lied on the sofa, eyes closed, as Rowle crawled in next to her.

"Good show, my boy. Come, return to your seat. I want the evening to continue," he commanded. And just like that, everyone was partnered off and participating, with or without their consent.

When Severus walked up the stairs, Voldemort grinned at him, eyes raking over the obvious tent in Snape's trousers.

"Looks like you have a long night ahead of you, Severus"

"Indeed, my Lord."

"Well, see to it that you meet the parameters. I'd hate to have you undergo as much pain as last time. Take her back, and then take her as frequently as you can. You've proven yourself tonight, Severus. I believe you've earned yourself a bit more freedom."

What did that mean?

"Thank you, my Lord."

Voldemort waved his hand dismissively. Snape reached out, grabbing her arm and tugging her to her feet.

"Come," he commanded, and she listened. What other option was there?

They made their way to the foyer when he finally grabbed her. Whispering in her ear he said, "hold on," and with a pop, he disapparated them to yet another new location.