The Self-Writing Parchment
Hermione wakes up only to find that she's to be held accountable to the Dark Lord for her actions and is forced to choose Wormtail's punishment. However, she manages to surprise the Dark Lord and receives a curiously suggested offer from him for her courage.
Not only that, but Draco and Cillian save Hermione from what could have been a disastrous mistake. And the wedding looms ever closer…
~o12o~
Repercussions and Consequences
Hermione woke up in a darkened room softly lit with candles. At first, the soft light was soothing, but she quickly realized that she couldn't move. She tried to move her eyes down far enough to see if she was bound, but she couldn't feel any bindings. She tried to move her head, arms or legs, but they were completely unresponsive to her. She tried rolling her head, and managed a tiny tilt, but only enough to see Snape's head resting against the back of his chair beside her. Hermione began to panic, worried that she'd damaged her spinal cord and was now paralyzed. She whimpered softly, fighting back her fears. She heard Snape shift in his chair beside her, saw his arm as he stretched, and she could feel the bed move when he lifted his feet. He'd obviously been sleeping with his feet propped up on the corner of the bed. She hoped he wasn't going to be mad at her for what she'd done.
He rose and stood by her, bending down to stare into her eyes. "Are you in pain?" he asked softly.
She felt a brief sense relief at his tone, although it didn't ease her fear about her paralysis. "No. I'm… I'm paralyzed!" she managed to say with a choked sob.
He smiled and moved the chair closer. "No, you are not paralyzed. I've given you a potion that will prevent you from being able to move," he explained. "Are you in any pain?"
"No, well, somewhat… yes. But mostly, I feel heavy," she said, fighting back tears, although very relieved by his statement. "I just feel really thick and heavy."
"Not surprising," he said, sitting down next to her, tipping a potion to her lips. "You splinched yourself in half. What were you thinking?"
Hermione sipped the potion, recognizing the flavor as the Blood-Replenishing Potion. "I was thinking about escaping Wormtail," she replied between swallows. "Where is he? Did he run away?"
Snape's grin was malicious. "He's in his cage on the back stoop again," he said, and his expression softened to one of concern. He leaned toward her, brushing her hair from her forehead, and he held another potion for her to drink and then another. She was sure the second one was a Regenerative Potion because it tasted familiar to her. "Hermione, there's something I have to tell you," he said softly, and she immediately knew it would be bad news. "As soon as you are up, I've been instructed to bring you before the Dark Lord. He wishes to see you, but I've delayed, telling him you've not woken up yet."
"He's going to kill me, isn't he?" A jolt of fear shot through her. "I wasn't – I was trying to escape," she tried to explain. "Wormtail…"
"He won't kill you, but he's angry. He's not happy about your trying to run away. He'll want answers, but I don't believe it will be you who's punished." Snape turned and then lifted another vial to her lips. "The Dark Lord has seen my memories, and he listened to Draco and Cillian. Still, all I saw was your splinching. Wormtail tried hiding, but we've caught him. I'll bring him with us when you're able to see him."
Regardless of his assurances, Hermione was scared. A tear ran down her cheek, and Snape wiped it away with his thumb. "How soon?" she asked, unable to mask her fears.
"I want to keep you still for at least another two days. I'd prefer longer, but Cillian's Healer left today, and she told him you'd be up and around before long. That's what has been relayed to the Dark Lord," he said softly. "Cillian is with the Dark Lord now, and he'll be back here shortly. I'll know more then."
"Is he another Death Eater?" she asked, concerned.
Snape smiled and nodded. "He's going to be around a lot, so you'll have a chance to get to know him."
"No. Why?" she asked, not really wanting to meet anyone at this time, let alone another Death Eater.
"Because I want the two of you to get acquainted," Snape said reassuringly as he leaned over her. "Weren't you the one that said you didn't know if I had any friends?" he asked with a smirk, and Hermione nodded, remembering her accusation. "Cillian is a friend."
"Sir, what happened?" she asked, wanting to change the subject. "I don't remember anything except… I just wanted to get away from him, and Grimmauld Place was the only place I could think of. I remember Apparating or trying to – I think…"
Severus explained briefly the events after he'd heard the door slam. "I'd just come out the back door as you attempted to Apparate," he stated.
Hermione was stunned by his description of her splinching. "But if I'd splinched so badly, how is it that I survived? How did you know what to do?"
His lips curled into a smirk. "Hermione, I do know how to heal. I know many of the healing potions by memory, and I know how to reverse some spell damage. I'm surprised that Nymphadora and Lupin knew what to do, but she obviously used a spell to hold your blood within you and keep you in a sort of stasis. I'm not sure which ones; I was too concerned with saving you. I simply wanted to retrieve your upper half and heal you."
"So you healed me?" she asked, amazed.
"I was able hold your life in stasis and hold your blood inside you. I made the potions you needed, but no. Draco and Cillian went to get Healers while I found your other half." She looked up at him with a mixture of awe and amazement, and he shook his head with bemused expression. "Look, I can heal some things. I healed Draco right after Potter cut him with my Sectumsempra Curse. I helped heal Potter when he fell off his broom and helped Mr. Weasley when Nagini bit him. I fixed Ron Weasley's leg his third year, if you recall, and it was my potions that helped him recover from the damage caused by those brains his fifth. Katie Bell was sent to me after she'd been affected by that cursed necklace, not Poppy Pomfrey... and Albus used to turn to me when he was hurt, cursed or poisoned, even up to the end."
He pulled down the sheet that covered her and looked at her body, his eyes deeply concerned. "I have to treat your scar again. Peren, get me the jar please," he said, and Hermione heard the elf run from the room. Hermione wanted to raise her head and see how bad the wound was, but she couldn't move a muscle nor lift her head. Judging by Snape's expression, it was bad, and she watched his face as his eyes swept from her shoulder to her hip. Peren returned, coming around the bed, crawled up on the mattress from Snape's side, and then squatted down by her head. Her huge eyes were brimming with tears.
"Peren, don't cry. I'm sure it will be all right," she tried to reassure the elf. Peren held a large jar open for Snape as he scooped the gel out with his fingers, which had the distinct smell of Dittany.
"It is looking much better, miss," Peren whispered in her ear, encouragingly. "It is healing and will be all gone soon."
Hermione could feel Snape's fingers as he dabbed the gel on her skin in a line that started from her shoulder and angled down between her breasts. "Sir, what?" Hermione asked, alarmed as his fingers continued down her body.
"I'm using a mixture of Anti-Scar Paste with essence of Dittany so you will not have a scar as a reminder," Snape stated as his fingers dabbed the gel in a line that proceeded down toward her hip. "Hermione, Peren is going to support your head when I turn you over. All I want you to do is to relax." Snape levitated Hermione, turning her over, and his fingers traced the same rout down her back. Hermione couldn't help but whimper softly as he treated her scar and cast an Absorption Charm.
When he'd lowered her back onto the bed, Hermione swallowed a lump she felt in her throat. "Thank you," was all she could think to say.
"You're welcome," he said, still eyeing her scar. "Peren, you can go." Snape waited until they were alone and leaned over her. "I wish I could gain your trust, Hermione, and get you to obey me. I know the situation isn't to your liking, and you are stuck in this, just as I am. I really am looking out for your best interest in all this, but you've got to start trusting me."
"But you cannot let me go?" she asked, knowing the answer.
He shook his head and gave her another potion. "I cannot." She opened her mouth to ask why, and his eyes narrowed, effectively cutting her off. "You are not able to close your mind or conceal what you know. You are not able to occlude probing by a Legilimens, so I cannot confide everything to you. Surely, you can understand that. But you must start to obey me if you are to survive. I can protect you only so far. Push too far, and yes, the Dark Lord will kill you. You are a pawn in his plans, and for now, you are useful. I must keep him thinking you're valuable if I'm to keep you alive. So think about that." He stood and turned to go.
"I'm afraid," she said. "I don't like being in the dark or not having a say in what happens to me."
"Nor do I," he replied. "But you'll have to learn how to let go of that need to control everything around you."
~o0o~
Hermione stood by the door in her black robes and Blast-Ended Skrewt jewelry, wishing she could simply sit in the dining room until they were ready to leave. She still felt weak, and her knees were shaking, although that could just as easily have been due to the fearful anticipation of her impending meeting. Snape had been true to his word, keeping her in bed for two days, although this morning he'd called Peren as soon as Hermione woke, instructing the elf to serve her breakfast and dress her.
Draco entered the hallway, adjusting his sleeve, and Snape nodded to him before turning to her. "Ready?" he asked with indifference that matched the cool expression on his face.
Hermione sighed, remembering what he'd told her that morning about what he thought might happen. She knew it was only speculation, but she appreciated his openness. She lowered her head and nodded as he grasped her arm and guided her from the house. As she exited the house, she tried not to notice Wormtail in his cage on the stoop as she preceded Snape down the stairs into the garden. She was unfortunately unable to avoid looking at the walkway, staring at the stepping-stones, which were still splotchy with her bloodstains. She was taken aback at how wide the pattern seemed to be, indicating just how much she must have bled. She secretly wondered why no one had cleaned it up, but had the eerie feeling that Snape had left it for her benefit as a reminder.
Thankfully, Draco spoke up, drawing her attention from the macabre scene. "Dad said that he changed the wards on the back terrace for our Apparation just as you requested," Draco said smoothly, holding Wormtail's cage by the handle. "I'll see you there."
"After you then," Snape said, pulling Hermione to him, carefully placing his arms around her body, trying to avoid grasping her where she'd splinched. Draco's sharp crack sounded as Snape looked down at her and smiled. "Remember what I told you and the role that I play. Trust me."
"I remember," she replied, unable to suppress the nervousness she felt from her voice.
He smirked down at her. "I will not splinch you. Trust me, please."
"It's not that; it's him," she said, lowering her head. "I'm afraid of him."
"You'll be fine," Snape replied.
The foyer they arrived in was massive. Directly in front of her was a large arched entry between twin curving staircases. Marble columns flanked the entrance of hallways on either side of the room. It wasn't the size of the room that took Hermione's breath away upon arriving nor the obvious wealth, but the cold feeling the room gave off, similar to the feeling she'd remembered when entering a museum.
However, Draco took her expression and sharp intake of breath to mean that she was impressed. "Like it, do you, Granger? Bet you never thought you'd be invited here, did you?"
"Enough, Draco," Snape warned softly as he placed his hand on Hermione's elbow. "I believe he'll be in the drawing room. Shall we?" He guided her down a hallway that looked like pale cream sandstone, polished into such a high gloss finish that it reflected the minimal light from the dimly lit wall sconces, giving the room a subtle glow. Expensive carpets covered the floor, and the walls were lined with the portraits of Malfoy ancestors that glared at Hermione as they walked by. Snape hesitated for a few heartbeats before he turned the handle of a heavy wooden door and ushered her inside. The room was elegantly decorated, although the usual furniture had been pushed carelessly against the walls and windows, leaving a wide-open space on the marble floor. An odd tree-like stand and an armchair stood next to the large marble mantelpiece. A large, heavily gilded mirror reflected the room from above the Floo.
The Dark Lord stood waiting, backlit by the roaring fire in the grate. Hermione tried to linger in the threshold, but Snape forcefully guided her forward to kneel before him. "Hermione, you disappoint me," he said, his tone sending shivers down her spine.
"I – I… I'm sorry," she stammered, her mouth suddenly dry.
The Dark Lord was pacing irritably, looking down at her, but she couldn't move or look up at him, and she was so frightened, she felt like she could barely breathe. "You tried to leave me. No one leaves me. Not without punishment."
She sucked in her breath. Snape rose from her side and stepped away to stand behind her.
The Dark Lord towered over her, pacing like a Graphorn, stalking its prey as she knelt. She was trying to keep from showing her fear of him, but she knew he could sense it anyway. "I thought I could trust you. Was I wrong? I do not like being wrong."
She could only shake her head. Words completely escaped her. She was going to die and she knew it.
The Dark Lord stopped in front of her, and she could feel him staring at her. "You will not even try begging me? No pleading for your life? No groveling? No crying?"
Her bottom lip quivered, and her eyes filled with tears that she refused to let fall. She wouldn't beg him, couldn't suppress her fear down enough to, even if she wanted to. She was too afraid to trust her voice to speak. Only she didn't want either Snape or Draco to suffer because of her mistake. Snape said she had to follow the Dark Lord's wishes or he'd be severely punished – or worse – killed! "Please," she managed to say, her mouth as dry as parchment.
"Oh, so you do wish to beg," the Dark Lord sneered. "Well, get on with it."
"It wasn't Severus' fault," she said breathlessly, her voice crackling in fear. "Nor Draco's. Please, don't hurt them on my account."
The Dark Lord stood still. The air in the room around her seemed to become heavy and oppressive. "You would plead for their lives? Interesting. And why shouldn't I punish my servants for allowing your escape. Your well being was entrusted to them, and they obviously failed – again."
Hermione took a deep breath and forced herself to try and look up at him, but her eyes stopped at his chest. "It wasn't their fault, it was mine." If he's displeased with me, fine, but Snape hasn't done anything wrong. Hermione forced herself to look up at his face, cringing at the anger in his red eyes. The slit-like pupils contracted and his nares flared, and he stared at her for what felt like minutes without comment. "Do what you would to me, but please, don't hurt Severus or Draco," she pleaded, her voice barely a coarse whisper that broke the silence in the room.
The Dark Lord's fingers slipped into her hair, and he gripped her head painfully. "And why shouldn't I?" He held his wand pointed over her shoulder, and she suspected that his aim was for Snape's chest.
She had no real reason, except that she couldn't stomach the thought of watching either of them tortured on her account, especially when they hadn't been home. After all Severus' done to heal me, and now that he's finally opening up to me... "I – I disobeyed him."
"Then I should simply punish you, is that it?" The Dark Lord threatened, his wand tip now aimed at her.
Hermione swallowed, her eyes locked on the Dark Lord's, completely unable to turn away. "I – I…" She couldn't say it.
"Yet you did try to leave," The Dark Lord snarled venomously. "Tell me why. I will fit your punishment to your explanation."
"I wanted to get away from – I didn't want to be raped – again. I thought I didn't have any other choice…" She tried to say more, but couldn't get the words out. She tried to lower her head, but the Dark Lord held her head firmly by her hair.
"We shall see. Legilimency." The invasion was fiercely intense; the room swam in front of her as if she were extremely drunk. The images flickered though her mind like a film, replaying Wormtail's attack so vividly, it was like repeating the events she was seeing. All the emotions flooded over her: repulsion, fear, anxiety, and the feeling of being trapped. There was an aching pain in her mind, worse than any migraine. The images shifted, and the panic was gone. She was seeing the potions lab, working with Draco, helping him with the tricky, quick-paced potion, and then the memory jumped to the last potion they made together. Seeing the memory replayed in her mind this way, she was amazed at how flawlessly they had worked together. The searing pain lightened up somewhat, until she remembered the last words Draco had barked at her before he'd turned to run from the room: Stay here, don't leave. Peren will get anything you need. Suddenly, the memory of the consent trickle of water from the faucet in the potions lab which had made the urge to pee so great she felt forced to leave the security of the lab came to mind. She could almost hear her own thoughts: I've got to go! I can't turn it off. I've really got to go… He couldn't have meant that I can't go to the loo? Augh! As suddenly as it came, the urge to pee left as the probing sensation jerked from her mind. The Dark Lord thrust her away from him as if in disgust, leaving only the pounding migraine behind.
"Women and their inability to hold their urine," the Dark Lord sneered. "Where is Wormtail? You were told to bring him with you."
"Here he is, my Lord," Draco said, walking forward. Nagini came forward from over by the windows, slithering across the floor to the Dark Lord's feet. The Rat in his cage began to squeal and thrash, terrified.
"Open it," the Dark Lord demanded, brandishing his wand lazily in his hand. Draco turned the cage over, and Wormtail fell to the marble floor with a thud. The Dark Lord pointed his wand at Wormtail, and the Rat transformed into Peter Pettigrew, who lay groveling on the floor at The Dark Lord's feet.
"M-my Lord, I didn't m-mean too," he began to snivel. "I was only…"
"Silence!" the Dark Lord barked at him with a sibilant hiss, his fingers tightening his grip on his wand. "I know what you did; I saw it for myself. You're aware that Miss Granger is under my protection and is to be married to Severus, and yet," the Dark lord paused as Wormtail tried again to plead with him again. "Silence! And yet, you have attacked her now – twice," he hissed angrily. "From what I've seen in her mind, as well as in Draco's and Severus', she has never indicated any attraction to you or enticed you in any way. Yet you have attempted to push your affections on her, unsolicited, and attempted to rape her."
"No, I didn't!" the Rat cried, reaching out for the Dark Lord's robes, only pulling back when Nagini raised her head. "I just wanted…"
"You were trying to grope her and kiss her in the hallway." The cold menacing tone made Wormtail cower on the floor again. "I saw it, Wormtail – in her mind!"
"Arise, Hermione," the Dark Lord's sibilant voice echoed in Hermione's head. Hermione felt a light airy feeling overtake her mind as she felt herself rise and walk over to stand next to the Dark Lord. "Severus, your wand please." She stood transfixed as Snape walked up and presented the Dark Lord with his wand. "Take it, Hermione," he hissed, his red eyes glaring at Wormtail.
Snape held his wand out to Hermione. She swallowed, afraid to touch it, her hands clenched into fists. His lips twitched, but his dark eyes showed approval as he flicked the grip to indicate she should take it.
"Take it," the Dark Lord demanded. "As his soul mate, Severus's wand will do what you bid it to. Take it."
Snape nodded as he flicked the grip at her again, indicating that she should accept his wand. As if in a trance, she curled her fingers around the grip, at once again feeling its magical acceptance. Snape's lip curled up slightly, smirking at her. Draco stood staring at her with cold amusement in his eyes.
"Now punish him, Hermione," the Dark Lord ordered, his nostrils flaring in irritation.
"S-sir?" she asked, Snape's wand shaking in her grasp.
Snape looked down at her curiously, then turned his head away. She tried to beseech him with her eyes, but Snape was already smirking nastily at Wormtail. "Do as you are told, Hermione."
Punish him, a sibilant voice sounded in her head. Use the Cruciatus on him.
No, her mind screamed. I can't.
Do it. Curse him, the sibilant voice repeated. Crucio him.
No, she argued desperately as her hand raised Snape's wand and pointed it at Wormtail. "Cru-cruc..." I can't! Please, she thought, struggling to fight the instruction to use the Cruciatus Cruse. "C-crucio," she said feebly. No. "I can't." No. The voice in her head warred with her conscious. No, I can't do this. The light headiness broke, and she knew she'd shrugged off the effects of the Imperius Curse. "I can't," she pleaded, her shoulders slumped, and her hand fell limply to her side.
"Interesting… Severus, I see what you mean," the Dark Lord sneered. "I do not like being disobeyed, Hermione. You will obey me. Punish him! He tired to rape you – you will punish him for it! Now!"
She pointed Snape's wand at Wormtail again and contemplated on which curse she knew that she could use on him. She racked her brain and remembered Snape's lessons with Draco. "Extremus Gelidus," she said, and Wormtail began to shiver and appeared to cramp as if he'd been plunged into freezing water.
The Dark lord started laughing, the sound cold, condescending and cruel. "No, girl, I said to punish him, not freeze him," he demanded, his cold eyes glaring at her and then down at the Wormtail with obvious malice.
"Draco," Snape said with a wicked twist of his lips and a strange glint in his eye as he watched Wormtail curl into a ball, arms and legs twitching with spasms from the effect of her curse.
"Finite," Draco said,pointing at Wormtail.
"Hardly an appropriate punishment, Hermione," Snape said to her, crossing his arms with a smirk.
"No, Hermione, you will use the Cruciatus Curse," the Dark Lord said, impatience making his tone sharp.
Draco tried to conceal a snicker at her expense. "She can't do it; she's too – nice," he said, sneering at her. Snape raised his eyebrow, and he sneered at Draco, frostily.
The Dark Lord glowered at the younger wizard, his red eyes narrowing dangerously, and then turned back to Hermione. He crossed his arms as if expecting her to try and narrowed his eyes into a scowl.
"I can't," she stammered, afraid. "It's an Unforgivable…"
"Do not defy me, Hermione," the Dark Lord warned, his tone menacing, his expression becoming dark, and his wand now pointed at her. "Either you do it – or you will experience it."
Hermione pointed Snape's wand at Wormtail. "Crucio," she said, her hand shaking. Her curse didn't have very much strength because Wormtail only yelped and then lay half curled on the floor, snarling at her.
"I told you she'd be unable do it," Draco said, looking smug.
"Again. And mean it," the Dark Lord snarled.
Hermione tried, but she hadn't the heart to actually use the curse, and Wormtail only yelped at her attempt, making her face flush with embarrassment and anger at being made to torment him. Tears began streaming down her cheeks. Her third try had no force behind it at all. "I can't," she whimpered as she raised the wand for a fourth try.
Draco was smirking at her as if she were incompetent. Snape's lips curled into an amused smile. The Dark Lord loomed over her threateningly, expecting her to do something that she knew she just couldn't do. Finally, she lowered Snape's wand, never uttering the fourth attempt, admitting defeat. "I can't. I'm sorry, but I just can't."
"Hear that, Wormtail, she can't. You attack her like a lecherous scum, cause her to splinch herself in half, and she still hasn't the heart to punish you," the Dark Lord said, sneering down at Wormtail. The Dark Lord indicated something to Snape. He walked over behind her and wrapped her in his arms, holding her protectively against his chest. For a moment she was grateful for the support and the feeling of comfort he gave her, until the Dark Lord said, "But I have no such compunction. Crucio."
Hermione stiffened in Snape's arms and his embrace tightened, holding her pinned, leaning against his chest. She tried to look away, and Snape hissed in her ear, "He wants you to watch. It'll be over soon."
Her breath hitched at his words, and she forced herself to watch as Wormtail clenched and writhed on the floor, screaming in pain, severely punished for attacking her. The Dark Lord released the curse only to inflict it again after a brief pause, and Wormtail's screams echoed off the walls. Hermione cringed inwardly, watching him, thankful that Snape supported her, sickened that the Dark Lord wanted her to watch. When the Dark Lord released the Unforgivable Curse for a third time, Snape allowed Hermione to turn and cry on his shoulder, his hands caressing her back comfortingly.
"I will give you the choice, Hermione," she heard the Dark Lord say behind her. "Since you refuse to curse him, and I know you can't kill him, I will give you a choice. Will you allow Wormtail to come back to your house; or should I dispense of him for you?"
Hermione stiffened and looked up at Snape. He only he raised his eyebrow, and his mouth curled into a knowing smile that gave her no answer at all, except to assume that he already knew what she would do. Taking a deep breath, she turned her head to look at the Dark Lord, who stood looming over the Rat, menacingly. "I don't want to be the cause of anyone's death – even his," she said, wiping the tears off her cheeks. Snape released her, and she turned back to him, hoping he wasn't angry with her.
Snape's smile became smug. "You're being too kind," he said, his smile fading, and he had strange glint in his dark eyes.
"Yes, too kind." The Dark Lord turned his attention to Snape. "I will honor her decision and spare his life since she is your fiancée, Severus. But since Wormtail's actions were against your intended bride, I'd like to know your decision as well."
Snape's expression turned cold. "If I have to have him in my home, it will be in the cage. I will not have him lurking around the house, trying to rape my fiancée. Because of him, I cannot leave her alone in the house, which has proven to be an inconvenience." He turned to Hermione as Wormtail started sniveling again. "Will that be acceptable, my dear?"
Hermione nodded and looked down at the Wormtail, knowing that even as much as she disliked him, she didn't want him killed, but she didn't want him at the house either. "Whatever you decide," she said, a tear rolling down her cheek again.
"Well, Wormtail, either you change into your rat form or I'll do it for you," the Dark Lord said menacingly.
Hermione watched, fascinated, as Wormtail nodded, tears on his face as his body began to shimmer and shrink. In seconds a mangy looking rat sat on the polished marble floor. Snape took his wand from Hermione's fingers and levitated the Rat into his cage.
Draco picked up the cage and peered at the Rat disdainfully. "You're one lucky bastard, Rat," he said.
"Draco, Severus, leave us a moment," the Dark Lord said, dismissing them both with a casual wave of his hand. "I want a word with Hermione."
Both men bowed and left with out comment. Snape only glanced at her once before he turned for the door. She heard one of the settees slide across the room, and it stopped right beside her. The Dark Lord swept his hand toward the backless lounge. "Sit down, my dear," he insisted, his tone firm, yet kind, as he watched her, his red eyes sweeping her tear-stained face.
Hermione sat, and she smoothed the robes over her lap, her palms sweaty. She felt like she had a heavy lump in her throat and had large rocks in her gut.
"You were too soft hearted toward him. He doesn't deserve it, you know." The Dark Lord's hand cupped her face, and his thumb caressed her cheek, almost intimately, as he wiped away her tears. His action startled her, but no more than when he slid one long finger down her neck to her collarbone and then placed his hand on her shoulder as he stared at her intently. "You think I was too harsh with Wormtail, don't you?"
She nodded.
He wiped another tear from her cheek with his other hand. "I cannot allow those under my protection to be treated so by my loyal followers. I'd lose control. He was warned, Hermione, and yet he accosted you in your own home. He knows you're to be Severus' wife."
His cold hand stroked her shoulder while the other gripped her chin to tilt her face up, and she felt uncomfortable under his stare, unsure why he was being so familiar with her.
"I told you once, you have nothing to fear from me; I have not chosen to rescind that promise. No one is to hurt you. Wormtail will be an example. Even though you didn't do as I told you to, I will allow it to slide this time, since you are still unfamiliar with me." He released her face, and Nagini curled up at her feet, flicking her tongue at her. The Dark Lord watched his familiar and then sat down next to her as he leaned casually against one padded armrest, his eyes focused on her. "I hear that you and Severus had an argument the day before your attack. Was it concerning anything I should know about? Is there anything you wish to tell me?" he asked, his eyes looking at her akin to ownership, and Hermione shook her head. "Are you finally accepting your pending marriage to Severus? I understand you've had reservations. I'd like to hear them."
He was confusing her. His actions seemed almost kind, especially after his harsh display earlier. "I was under the impression he only wanted me as his consort. Now I understand we're to be married, but I know he doesn't want to. It's being thrust upon him."
"That's not exactly true," the Dark Lord replied. "Severus has consented to this marriage."
"He hasn't said… He makes it seem as if he's forced to." She looked down at her hands to try and avoid his red eyes. "I suppose I wanted to know if he loves – if he could love me," she stammered. "I – it wasn't…"
"You want flattering declarations of love? Gifts, flowers and endearments...? Surely you know Severus isn't the type." The Dark Lord waited until she glanced up at him before continuing. "This isn't how you thought your marriage would be." She stared at him, surprised, and he smiled at her. "Please, I know how women are. The perfect dress, the perfect place, flowers, fairies and candles everywhere, music, food, champagne, the groom and blushing bride, the proud parents… Narcissa has been reciting all the plans to me for days. Isn't that what you expect?"
At bit more than I expected, but that fits what Narcissa would plan. "Something like that, yes," she admitted, knowing it's what he wanted to hear.
"We've been unable to get your parents for you, but be assured, everything else is all arranged," he said casually.
They were unable to get my parents? Hermione's breath caught. They went to my parents' house?
The Dark Lord tilted his head, his eyes narrowing. "What else would make you happy, convince you I am pleased that you have joined us? Knowledge? Access to some of the largest private libraries in our world? To learn magic spells you could only dream about?" he asked, looking smug when she gasped at his offer. "To be shown how to do that which Hogwarts wouldn't teach you?"
Again Hermione gasped at what he'd just promised her.
"Yes, Severus told me so. I was like you, wanting to read every spell book I could get my hands on. But what is to prevent you from disappointing me again? What would keep you in line and make you realize your place is with me? Oh, yes, Hermione, your place is with me. Just as Severus has agreed to marry you, this marriage will bind you to me. A Death Eater's wife is held by her husband's oath. You will be a Death Eater's wife and married to my most trusted advisor and most loyal follower. I will not allow you to cause him grief, create problems for him or turn his concentration from the tasks I have given him. You are either to be an asset to him – or you will be disposed with. I am good to those who please me and harsh to those who do not – you'd best to remember that."
Hermione nodded, unsettled by his threat as much as by his demeanor. "But I thought that to be your follower you had to… I'm sorry."
"Had to what? Take my mark?" He lifted her left hand from her lap and stroked the back of it lovingly. "Only if you choose to. I will not force it on you, any more than I did any of the others. Does this surprise you? That accepting my mark would be a choice?" Hermione shook her head as he turned her hand over exposing her palm. "Have you seen Severus' Dark Mark, Hermione?" she nodded and he laughed. "I thought I saw that in your mind. Did you think it hurts him?"
"He hisses, or inhales sharply, each time you summon him," she admitted. "I assumed…"
"It's not pain they feel, Hermione," he said, his fingers sliding up her arm, uncovering her wrist pushing her sleeve up her arm, his fingers caressing her. "It's an – awareness. A sensation very much like my fingers on your skin right now," he said, his eyes darting to hers. "Only much more – intense."
Hermione wanted to pull her arm away, but resisted the urge, lest she irritate him. "It looked alive."
"As I am alive, so is my mark," he said. He rolled his wand languidly in his other hand, bringing its tip to her arm. She cringed as he pushed it into her flesh. He smirked and released her. "But you are not going to accept it, are you?" She shook her head, and he laughed, a high-pitched cackle, his red eyes gleaming. He looked at her with a smile that struck her as both maniacal and cruel. "No matter, there are other ways of showing loyalty. You may go now, Hermione. Severus will be waiting for you in the foyer. I will be seeing you soon; on your wedding day actually. Good-bye for now."
She rose, made a small bow and hurried from the room. Snape was waiting for her just outside the door, leaning against the wall when Hermione left the drawing room. She stood, her body trembling, staring at him, her mind reeling with the events of her private audience with the Dark Lord, still uncertain as to his intent. Snape watched her, his face inscrutable, then he stood up, opened his arms, and she rushed forward, hugging him. She clung to him, drinking in his scent and feeling his strength. "You are all right. Let's go home," he said silkily after a few heartbeats. She simply nodded, but didn't want to release him. He laughed softly, and he turned her to leave, his arm still across her shoulders as they walked away. The portraits scowled and sneered as they passed, but Hermione didn't care. Nor did she notice the women standing in the archway as Snape pulled her into his arms again to Apparate them home.
Once at the house, he guided her straight up to his room. "So, what did he want?" Snape asked softly as he closed the door.
"Questioned me about my feelings about things," she said and shivered. "He offered to let me have access to libraries and…" She looked at her left arm, and her fingers caressed the spot where the Dark Lord had pressed his wand into her forearm. "I think he asked me if I wanted the Dark Mark, but I'm not sure."
"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked smoothly.
"No, I don't really want to talk about it right now," she replied, shaking her head. "I want to take a bath, if that's all right?"
He nodded and stepped aside. "Come down when you are done. I'll lift the wards tonight," he said as she walked out of the bedroom.
~o0o~
Later that afternoon, Hermione received a large package. She was curled up in one of the chairs in the sitting room, enjoying a cup of tea while reading a large book. The owl, which carried the package, nearly collapsed on the rug as he set the large package down. "Oh my goodness!" she exclaimed, setting both the teacup and book down, before kneeling next to the exhausted bird. Hermione scooped up both the box and the owl and carried them both to the kitchen.
"What's that?" Draco asked, curious.
"I don't know; it just arrived," Hermione replied as she dropped the box on the table and helped the owl perch on a chair. She went to get water and owl treats.
Draco was trying to see if there was any return address on the box when another owl started pecking on the kitchen window. "I'll go get it," he said.
He returned as Hermione was holding a cup up for the owl to drink. "He's got to pick up a few things before his meeting at Hogwarts," Draco was saying as he entered the doorway. "I expect him back anytime, actually."
"Another meeting. The Carrows are causing a fuss again then," a male voice said. A handsome wizard in casual robes entered the kitchen behind Draco. "Hello, Hermione, so we meet again."
"Pardon?" Hermione asked, glad that she'd finally been allowed to wear a house robe when downstairs. He looked familiar, but she couldn't place him. He was taller than Draco with curly, dark hair and warm, brown eyes that matched Snape's in their intensity, but he was obviously someone who smiled more often than Snape did. She had the nagging feeling that she should know him and couldn't stop staring.
He laughed and extended his hand to her. "Cillian Gwynek, but call me Cillian. May I call you Hermione?" he asked.
"Yes. Do I know you?" she asked and felt her cheeks heat even more as he smiled. "Sorry, you look so familiar. It's as if I know you, but I can't place where we met?"
"Knockturn Alley, but you weren't quite feeling yourself; I'm surprised you even remember me. You were kind of befuddled that day." He sat down as Peren set a cup of tea and the sugar bowl on the table next to him. "Hey, thanks. So, when is the ol' bat coming home?"
"In an hour," Draco said, staring at Hermione's box. He waved his wand over it and his brow furrowed. "Magic."
"Pardon?" both Hermione and Cillian asked.
"Hermione, if you open the box, be careful. There is either some strong spells on the box, or something magical inside."
Hermione nodded, and Cillian drew his wand. The twine released easily, and the paper fell open to reveal a pale yellow box. Draco nodded, and she lifted the lid. Whatever was in the box was lace, gorgeous pale, creamy white lace adorned with crystals. A small velvet pouch lay on top, and when she opened it, an exquisite string of pearls lay exposed. She held up the string of pearls, examining their iridescence and knew somehow that these were extremely expensive pearls. She laid them carefully aside and lifted up the lace. The white mass of lace unfurled in her hands, and she found herself holding the most exquisite antique-lace wedding robes she'd ever seen, watching as the thousands of tiny crystals caught the light. It wasn't her style at all, but the dress had an allure to it, a breathtaking quality.
"I know that dress… Why would I know that dress?" Cillian asked no one in particular, his eyes distant.
"It's gorgeous!" Hermione exclaimed as she held the robes up to her, checking the width of the bodice against her body and then extending the sleeve out with her fingertips. She knew that it would fit her perfectly.
"You like this? It's ancient!" Draco said, confused.
Hermione looked at him baffled by his reaction. "It's beautiful. I love it!"
"Who sent it?" Draco asked suspiciously. "Is there a card?"
"Does it matter? It's mine!" Hermione exclaimed, turning to go.
"Hermione, wait," Cillian said, grabbing her wrist, his tone sharp. "Where are you going?"
She turned to look at him, confused. "To try it on, of course."
"It's not from Mum," Draco stated. "No one knows the location of Snape's house except a few followers, and only a handful knows that we're keeping you here." Draco snatched the necklace and tested it for spells, throwing them back into the box as if they'd bitten him.
Hermione shrugged and turned to go.
"No, wait, you can't! I do recognize this gown," Cillian stated, and Hermione scowled at him as he jumped to his feet, snatching the gown from her. Hermione reached for the robes as Cillian tried to check the robes for curses. "It looks like the Widower's Robes, but how on earth did you get it?"
Draco turned and tested the gown for spells as well. "If not the Widower's Robes, one charmed and cursed to act like it. Hermione, the robes and pearls, they will shrink as you wear them, and once you have them on they cannot be removed." He took the robes, shoving them back into the box, forcing the lid down and sealing it closed.
Once out of sight, Hermione shook her head as if she'd been released from a curse. "It isn't even my style at all. Who would have thought I'd want that old dress? What do you mean by the Widower's Robes?"
"Cursed robes," Cillian stated. "As soon as you say your vows, the gown begins to shrink. The robes will literally strangle you to death, leaving Severus a grieving widower by the next morning, if not sooner."
"My guess is that you would have been dead in hours. These would have slowly strangled you to death as well," Draco said angrily, indicating the pearls. "I'll be right back."
Cillian was scowling. "Hermione, there wasn't a card, was there?" he asked as Draco ran from the room.
"No, none that I saw," she said, feeling foolish. "This owl brought it this afternoon…"
"Damn bitch," Cillian swore. "Sorry. I thought she was sending… never mind. I know this owl." He rose, scooped up the owl and carried it away.
Hermione stood in the kitchen, a swirl of questions forming in her mind.
"If that owl ever delivers anything to you again," Cillian said as soon as he returned, "do not touch it until I, Severus or Draco check the envelope or package for curses. Promise me."
"Only if you tell me why," she said, crossing her arms.
"Promise me!" he snarled.
"Fine! But tell me why?"
"My sister's owl," he said, his expression serious. "She had a fling with Severus for a while, and your impending wedding is interfering with her play time. I'm afraid she wants him back. Don't worry; I'll handle my sister. But that owl, or one that looks like its twin, never accept anything either one brings – ever. Got that?"
Draco returned with Narcissa. She stood in the doorway and stared at Hermione. "The Widower's Robes? How cliché. I thought that you had your robes. I hate last minute – well, never mind. You'll need wedding robes. I'd thought that Severus would've taken you when he went to be fitted. Well, no matter." She stared at Hermione, sizing her up. "If we take you shopping for robes, you will have to promise that you will not attempt anything foolish."
"And if I give you my word I won't try anything?" she asked, but Narcissa and Draco looked unconvinced. "Where will we be going?"
"I'll be happy to come with you, if you like," Cillian offered Narcissa.
Draco nodded. "Peren, go get Hermione's shell necklace." He turned to his mum. "She can't Apparate with it on, so that's one problem solved."
"And I've no qualm using the Cruciatus, my dear," Narcissa said smugly to Hermione. "So you best remember that."
"But I gave you my word I won't try anything!" she pleaded.
"It's a start," Draco said, taking the necklace from Peren. "Although, you've been fairly difficult so far." He indicated for her to turn around and fastened the necklace around her neck. "Please, cooperate."
Hermione nodded as Peren handed her her boots.
"Gentlemen, we will go to Twilfitt and Tatting's for wedding robes. Draco you know the way; you first. Hermione, you'll come with me and Mr. Gwynek."
"I know T and T's," Cillian said with a cocky smile. "My sister's preferred shop."
They left the house and Apparated to a quaint little street lined with magical shops, which obviously catered to a wealthier clientele. Hermione followed Narcissa into Twilfitt and Tatting's and stood quietly as Narcissa looked though the robes on a nearby rack under a sign that read: One of a kind, tailored to fit.
"Mrs. Malfoy, how delightful to see you," a petite, dark-skinned woman said as she approached. Her robes were stylish, and her hair was done up in a fashionable twist. "What shall it be today? I've several new robes, all in the most current fashion, and in the most divine fabrics…"
"Thank you, Mrs. Farag," Narcissa said amicably. "We are here to find suitable wedding robes for the young lady here."
"So, my dear, which shall it be? Red or white?" Mrs. Farag asked, turning to Hermione.
"Surely, a Muggle-born will want white," Narcissa said haughtily in Hermione's direction. "Don't all your kind wear white? What does it stand for in your world, Hermione? Purity, cleanliness, and virginal innocence?"
"White also symbolizes unity, sincerity, loyalty, and a love stronger than death," Mrs. Farag added with a smile. "Red signifies love, desire and passion…"
"It also signifies violence and warfare," Hermione said.
"And denotes passionate love, happiness and prosperity," Cillian offered, shrugging. "Girls love red roses."
"It also means anger and danger," Hermione added, not sure why the discussion was going this way.
"Only to Muggles dear," Narcissa said softly in Hermione's ear as Mrs. Farag continued undaunted, "In the old customs brides chose red as a sign of fertility, love and devotion as well as wealth and prestige."
"I'll wear red," Hermione stated determinedly.
"So, we are passing up on the whole virginal bride motif?" Narcissa said with a smug smile.
At least two hours later, robes and gowns in every shade of red hung on a rack next to Draco, who was lounging on the steps of the viewing dais, completely bored. Cillian had wandered deeper into the shop and was flirting with another sales witch. Hermione stepped from the dressing room in another red robe that fit her too tight across her chest, making her breasts already hurt, with sleeves that were cut so tight that she couldn't move her arms, and the waist was so loose it made her look fat.
Cillian came over with a Scarlet robe draped over his arm. "Ah, no. Here, try this one. It was in the back. The fabric and the neckline are nice."
Sighing, Hermione carried the robe into the dressing room. When she emerged, Cillian's eyebrows rose and Draco sat up straighter, his mouth slightly agape. "Well, if you don't take that one, you're daft. It's gorgeous," Cillian exclaimed.
Hermione checked out her profile in the gown. It fit her curves like a glove. The simple lace sleeves and bodice were tastefully adorned with tiny crystals. The scoop of the neckline was a bit low, but not too low, being almost deceptive in its curve, alluding to, but not actually showing, too much cleavage. When she turned, she saw that the gown bared most of her back. The material was a scarlet crimson that seemed to drink in the light and changed hue as she moved. It was the nicest dress she'd tried on so far.
"Yeah," Draco said, finally gaining his composure of indifference. "It's great on you."
"Really, I don't think," Narcissa started to say and was cut off by the stares from both men.
"It's only two hundred seventeen Galleons, sixteen Sickles and twenty-eight Knuts. I've had to… The woman it was made for, well, her wedding was cancelled," Mrs. Farag was saying, but neither of the guys was paying her any mind.
"She'll take that one," Cillian stated. "You don't even need to fit it to her, it's perfect."
"She'll need foundation and under garments," Narcissa stated, still scowling at Cillian. "I suggest we go to Ater Décor."
Mrs. Farag ushered Hermione into the dressing room to help her remove the gown.
When the four of them finally returned to Spinner's End, Snape was livid. "Where have you been?" he snarled. "Did you try to leave again?"
"Relax, you ol' bat, we took the girl to get her wedding robes," Cillian said, handing Peren the garment bag from Twilfitt and Tatting's and the shopping bag from Ater Décor.
Snape eyed the bag from Ater Décor and glared at his friend. "I wasn't aware that Ater Décor is now carrying wedding robes."
"They don't," Hermione said, blushing as Narcissa started laughing.
"Don't be silly, Severus. She needed a few things, and we simply took the girl shopping," Narcissa replied, clearly amused. "Besides, the groom isn't supposed to see the wedding dress before the wedding, and don't think you can peek. I've set spells on the garment bag and the bag from Ater Décor, so you'll be cursed if you try to look. Now be good, elf, and take these upstairs."
~~o0o~~
Author's Notes:
It seems I now have two women to thank for their assistance. I want to express my gratitude to Southern_Witch_69 for her help and the effort and support she gave me on this story. And to Cocoachristy and Amsev for her added support and helping to catch all my mistakes. Thank you all very much. I appreciate it more than you could possibly know.
I'd hoped to have the hand fasting in the next chapter, chapter thirteen. We'll see if I can pull it off…