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Torment Completed	By : Kvarta Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 31713 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 8
Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction. Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling. This story is purely for entertainment purposes, no money is being made from it.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
WARNING: Scenes of extreme torture, if you do not handle well such things, better skip this chapter or at least part of Snape’s memory (in italic)!!!
A/N: Another chapter edited by lovely Loki God of Evil. Thank you :*
She was still reeling from the "bathing" experience, pondering. Not if he would kill her, but in what way he would do it. Hermione knew without a doubt, she was heading down the road of no return with this, with him.
Snape, however, he was peaceful, resting.
Then, unexpectedly and all of a sudden, Narcissa had barged into the improvised room, completely unannounced, followed by Lucius hobbling fast and Harry, nearly running trailing behind them.
"You are irresponsible Lucius!" Narcissa scowled, berating her husband for all to hear.
"How was I supposed to know?" He countered.
"You should have told me!" she said, glancing at Hermione who was standing in front of the bed, her wand raised in defence of her charge and herself. "How sweet. Move away girl." She ordered.
"I told you that he is in a bad shape." Lucius ignored Hermione like he always had and was still continuing to do so.
"You didn't tell me that he is losing so much weight and muscle tone." She hissed, turning to Hermione. "Move away girl!"
"She won't harm him, Hermione. She might be able to help." Harry reasoned, breathlessly.
She moved reluctantly. Watching Narcissa intently as she repositioned herself at his side. Hermione remained alert, dubious of Narcissa's intentions.
Narcissa uninvitingly had sat herself on the edge of his bed. Very gently, but with little thought, she scooped Snape's thin weakened left hand in hers, trailing her fingers over the frail forearm. Her eyes appearing sad and now somewhat tired too but still, she looked.
It had only been herself and Bellatrix who had been present the last time, and because Severus was unconscious, only Narcissa knew which hand held the curse. His left hand, of course. The soft marks had still remained, like fine scars interwoven across his skin in a crossed pattern. Gently she clasped it, locking her free hand beneath his limp elbow. Her own tight grip allowed for her to remain hand in hand with the unconscious man. Even if his own grip was loose, this would still work.
Lucius stepped up, wand in hand.
"No! You can't do anything." She hissed at Lucius. He flinched at her tone. "You girl, come, use your wand," Narcissa ordered.
"What's going on?"
"Why can't I do it?" Lucius argued. "He is my friend after all."
"Did you completely lose your mind?" Hissed Narcissa. "The Vow was sealed by the woman. And since my sister is dead, I need another woman. The girl's magic is strong, almost strong as Bella's, she will do just fine." She reasoned, staring pointedly at Hermione.
"What Vow? What are you going to do to him?" Hermione asked, her voice raised in a mild panic.
"Release him from his promise. Honestly, what do they teach you in that school? She is completely uneducated."
"What promise?" Hermione ignored the insult, she knew plenty, probably far more than Narcissa, come to think of it.
"Unbreakable Vow, Hermione, the one professor made in our sixth year." That was Harry, he seemed small and withdrawn while the Malfoys continued to argue and bicker. Hermione was shocked by the way Narcissa addressed her husband, and by his almost pleading tone.
"But, professor killed Dumbledore, he fulfilled…"
"I asked him to protect my son, and never released him, so the bond still stands."
"But Draco survived," Hermione argued, weakly.
"Draco was hit by a curse on his way home from the trials. He is alive but I do not know for how long. Unfortunately, the only person who would be willing and able to help is lying here. So the promise stays."
"Draco is dying?" She whispered, shocked by that snippet of news. This family were so private, they only seemed to crawl out of the woodwork when their private lives were crumbling, None more so, than now. Hermione was suddenly sad. Even if it was only Malfoy, she still hated the fact. She glanced at Harry for reassurance but he shrugged, confused by this too.
"I hope not." Came Narcissa's firm reply. "But if I want to save my son... So, if you want to save your professor, point your wand at our joined hands, and help me to release him from his promise."
"What?"
"The bond is doing him harm at the moment, killing him in order to force him to fulfil his part of the deal. If I do not release him, he will die. Now, do as you are told, girl!"
She nodded and came closer, tears running down her cheeks, pointing the wand at the designated spot as ordered. She didn't know what she was supposed to do but it seemed that her magic did. Their hands started to glow, wrapped with bright golden swirls that delicately wrapped around both grasped hands. Snape's lips shuddered in response and Narcissa closed her eyes for a second.
"I Narcissa Malfoy, release you, Severus Snape of your promise. I consider your Vow fulfilled. You are free." The swirls coiled around their hands like ribboned snakes and Narcissa gazed at her, warning her silently not to let go.
The magic she felt was strong, hard to control. Sparks flew out, shooting around, the golden strands glowing before breaking and sinking into their skin.
Narcissa stood, rubbing her forearm. Leaning, she set a gentle kiss on his forehead, her eyes were still sad and tired, pained. "Get well." She whispered before turning to the group.
"Well, my job here is fulfilled." She muttered. "Take me to my son." Then glancing at Hermione. "Help him get better, so I can have my son back."
"But surely, there must be someone else who can help. Faster than a professor, I mean."
"There are," She agreed. "Plenty of them, to be exact," Narcissa replied coolly.
"Then, why don't they help?"
"Why would they?" She queried, nose raised in the air. "We are Malfoy's after all." Her head remained raised to the heavens. She began her purposeful walk. Her composure, still, fiercely royal in style. Unwavering and dominating all at the same time.
Lucius turned to follow, pausing, he turned back to Hermione who had stood at seeing their swift departure. A thoughtful expression on his cold face. "If you want to assist, then you too, have to be rested as well." He said, flicking his wand at the empty chair. The once hard and unforgiving wooden chair flew to the corner. Lucius tossed something from his pocket and at the same time, he flicked his wand.
In place of the chair now stood a fluffy, white sofa, slowly springing to its full size before their very eyes.
"Thank you, Mr Malfoy." She whispered, still confused at the small show of gratitude.
"I am not doing that for you." He spat. "I am doing that for him," he said, turning to leaving her and Harry alone.
I knew you weren't doing it for me. I'm evidently beneath you...
"Harry?" she said, raising her teary eyes at him. To her side, Snape was barely alive, Out in the larger world, Draco was dying. It seemed that everything around her was falling apart again.
"I-I didn't know." He stammered, nervously. "Look, I'll see what I can do, okay? I don't wish him dead any more than you do, even if he'd been a prick most of his life, he doesn't deserve this." He said, handing her a small bag. "Here, I-I brought you your books."
She took the bag, smiling and turned to the wall. Snape's vitals were seemingly improving. Well, they were better than they were before, more stable. She looked at him, he seemed peaceful, his breathing was deeper and clearer.
Now, he appeared to look like he really was asleep. And because of his comfort and relief, Hermione felt a sense of hope spring forth.
Maybe a restorative potion would work now?
~ S ~ S ~S ~
He continued to practise, alone, in secrecy. He'd even found a room where Potter or Black would never wander into. Besides, they had never managed to find him in here. The room, currently, was full of martial art books and training equipment. There were magically animated fighting mannequins. Sometimes, he would spend time practising martial arts and other times, duelling.
Now, after the training, he would walk the school grounds with his head raised high and his back straight. A scoff of righteousness permanently etched on his face at his achievements. He dared anyone to attack him, it would be their fight to lose.
It was the Parting feast. Tomorrow they would depart Hogwarts for their last trip home. Embark the train at Hogsmeade, never to return to this pit of inequality and patronism, the monument to the silent ruling of lions.
Unexpectedly, she passed next to him in a hallway, and he didn't even flinch. Snape acted with a cool indifference, acting like he didn't even notice her. But inside, it still hurt. And, along with the rest of the hurt he had endured over the years, he pushed that emotion along with everything else to some forgotten corner of his mind. It was occluded constantly, overcrowded with every insecurity, every positive emotion he could have.
His chest was void, filled with a blackness. He didn't feel remorse or pity. Not for anyone or anything. He felt her turning slightly, glancing at him, but he didn't react. She had bought this on herself with her reluctance to speak out at the many prime opportunities handed to her. Besides, Snape knew that he'd lost her. To be truthful, she'd lost him as well. He was easily the best student, had the highest marks. That was something that even Black or Potter couldn't take away or sully, even if they tried to, they'd never achieve it now.
…A day and a half later he was crouching in the high bushes. There were five more Death Eaters behind him, but they wouldn't help. He ran to the door and straightened up. It was dark and he knew that the wife and her child were at the school play, but he was still home.
His neighbour.
For years he had listened to the cries and screams coming from that house. And for years he had seen them covered in bruises. The young boy had casts and bandages more times than he could count. This man reminded him of his father, so it was a sort of poetic justice to use him in this way. He stepped closer to the door and knocked.
Swearing under his breath. He knocked again. All he could hear was angry heavy steps, the man appeared to be stomping towards the front door. The rims of his vision coloured in red. The door swung open…
…It was two hours to midnight when he walked in to the atrium of this large Manor house. He does not know to whom this Manor belonged, and he didn't care. He was beyond caring at that point.
All he knew was that the atrium was full of people. Soon, he ventured, they might all be his brothers and sisters, a family of sorts, like the type he imagined when he was so much younger. He brought forth the man he had apprehended earlier, but he refrained from touching him. Instead, Severus used his wand.
Stepping in a circle, the man followed, unwilling but unable to resist. Snape had thought long and hard what he would do, and he had it all played out in his head, every single step.
Silence, he didn't feel compelled to speak, so he flicked his wand instead. The man strips from his ragged clothes, his eyes panicked.
Focused on the man. "Does my Lord wish for me to release his vocal cords?"
"Let us hear him," replied the Dark Lord, he flicked his wand.
"What sort of sodding fagots are you? I'm gonna fuck…." Screamed the man in their midst.
"On second thoughts," he looked at Snape. "Shut him up." He flicked his wand and the man's throat constricted. Finally, he was mute, probably indefinitely for the rest of his miserable life, which wouldn't be too long.
Another flick of the wand and the man was suspended in mid-air. His limbs and body were twitching, flopping and writhing like a fish on the hook. He summoned the picture of his father to the front of his mind. Darkness, only darkness was in his heart. Carefully and with ease, he secured the limbs and cast a modified stasis charm. The man hovered a few centimetres off the ground, still twitching uncontrollably.
"This is the incantation from the sex clubs, what is he going to do? Fuck him?" mocked someone from the public but he did not pay attention to their worthless mumblings. They'd see soon enough.
They would see and then they would fear…him. Another flick of the wand. The man screamed albeit soundlessly. His mind strayed to Dumbledore, the one who betrayed him. Another flick of his wand.
Peter Pettigrew, another flick. Lupin, three more flicks. Black, five more flicks.
The atrium was deadly silent. In the air, the suspended man's face is a mask of agony. The skin was peeling from his arms and legs in long strips that curled around his wrists and ankles, mimicking bizarre, ruffled, cuffs or a kebab that hadn't been cut properly. He grabbed the man by the hair and stared into his eyes. Digging and searching for the images of what he'd done to his wife and child.
When he found them his gaze lingered. Suddenly, he stepped away, pulling his mind from the man's head, and leaving tears in place of his penetrating gaze. He flicked the wand and the man rose into the air. Snape, set his eyes on the Dark Lord, waiting for the nod of approval.
The Dark Lord tilted his head.
Snape pointed his wand muttering under his breath. "Crucio." Limbs begin twitching, splashing droplets of blood all over. The squishy sound of skinless flesh and the loud cracks of bones echoed mercilessly around this large once pristine atrium.
He let the torment last until he sensed a silent command. Lowering the man.
"He still is conscious, amazing."
"He received the potion prior to our arrival my Lord. He will stay like this until he dies, no matter what I do to him."
"Ingenious. Did you plan anything else?"
"Just one more thing." He stepped toward the man and the skin around the man's organs peel, curling toward his abdomen. 'James Potter.' Collective groans echo around them. He glanced at the Dark Lord and received a nod.
"Avada Kedavra" he whispered. The spell flashed instantaneously and the body fell limp in its bonds. He released it and the flopping mass of flesh and bone thuds on the ground.
He was soaked, not tired as such but in desperate need of a shower.
"You exceeded all expectations, Severus." The Dark Lord smiled. "Lucius, you will accompany him, let him rest and refresh. In an hour, he will be one of you."
While they walked, Death Eaters parted to let them pass. Snape's head was held high, he heard whispers, muttered under their breath "monster". It made him smile. They wouldn't dare touch him now. He had just shown them how ruthlessly brutal he could be, had impressed the Dark Lord.
Now, they, knew.
Darkness, blessed darkness. He was a monster, special kind of one. And he deserved more, far more than this. There was no way that he could ever atone for his crimes. He did deserve all that he was receiving but she didn't.
She shouldn't have been punished.
Because now he was suffering for it. No! That was a big karmic mistake. If she'd lived, lived to be happy in front of his eyes – that would've been true punishment. Her death had been largely pointless, useless. There had been no real reason behind it.
No pain. Right, monsters didn't feel pain.
- 9
- 10
- 11
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Torment *Completed*

Torment Completed