Disharmony in the Dungeons

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 41 ~ Hermione's Second Summons

A number of job offers came in for Hermione. She was swamped by them. The marks of university students were made available to headhunters, and the witch's marks were so exemplary, that she was in the highest demand. Many job offers came with generous bonuses and perks designed to pull her in. Hermione was reeling at all the attention she was getting. But she needed a job that could keep her relatively close to Hogwarts. Dumbledore had the answer.

"You could be the Spells Mistress for Hogwarts, and teach a class on spell-making. Of course, you can't actually teach students to create spells, but you can introduce them to the theory behind creating them. It would be an elective course, tied in with the Magical Theory class," Albus said. Then he looked apologetic.

"I'm afraid I can't offer you the high salaries and perks that some companies are offering you. But I can pay you scale, and you would have your own budget, classroom and lab, next to Severus' class," he said.

Hermione thought about this. It would be a start. After the business with Voldemort was settled, she could move on to a better position elsewhere. A stint teaching would be an asset on her resume. Plus, she would love to teach. Hermione had always enjoyed dispensing knowledge, whether it was appreciated or not. Now she would have a captive audience on whom to spout the fountain within her. Hermione smiled at the Headmaster.

"It sounds perfect, Headmaster," she said.

Albus clapped his hands together.

"Welcome to the Hogwarts staff, Mrs. Snape," he said, grinning. "I will have your staff robes sent immediately, and you send me a list of textbooks you want for the class as well as any supplies you will need. We can work out the budget after we see what the costs are."

Hermione promised to get right on it. She thanked the Headmaster and returned to her rooms. Severus was in class, so Hermione decided she would take a trip to Flourish & Blotts Bookstore to check out the books on the theory of spell making. Albus didn't say what age the students would be, but Hermione figured fifth years and up.

As she walked into her bedroom, her Mark began to burn. Voldemort was summoning her in the middle of the day. That wasn't strange however. The Dark Lord knew she wasn't yet employed. She donned her hated deatheater robes and disapparated.

In his classroom, Severus paused. He felt a pulse of emotion from his wife. He reached out for her and found she had been summoned to Voldemort. His black eyes shifted for a moment as the class looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to continue the lecture. After a moment, he did. As much as he wanted to protect his wife, she needed to establish her own relationship with Voldemort if she were to be of any value. So far she had done well.

Hermione appeared before the Dark Lord's throne, dropped her occulmency wall and curtsied. The Dark Lord told her to rise, a broad smile stretching his lipless mouth. Peter Pettigrew stood alongside his throne, holding a piece of parchment. The fat, squat wizard gave her a little wave as his little piggish eyes swept over her body. Hermione gave him a small smile, then looked up at Voldemort. The scent of burning hung over the room. It was unpleasant. Like burned hair.

"Hello, Hermione," the Dark Lord said, his red eyes glinting at her with approval, "Remove your mask, my dear."

Hermione did so. Voldemort studied her.

"Lovely," the Dark Lord breathed, once again wishing the witch's service was not conditional. Then he shook off his musings and addressed her.

"Your spell proved highly entertaining at last night's revel, Hermione. I was most pleased. You have done quite well by me," he lisped, his tongue flicking out as he spoke.

"Thank you, my Lord," Hermione replied, curtseying again. Now she knew why the throne room smelled as it did. The Dark Lord had roasted some muggles alive. Damn him.

Voldemort motioned Peter forward, and the wizard handed Hermione the parchment. It was a list of six spells that Voldemort wanted developed.

"As you can see, I have six offensive spells I would like developed. How long will it take you?" he asked her. "I need these spells for my deatheaters. We need to move soon and end this standoff."

Hermione looked at the list. These were horrible spells. The Dark Lord seemed to go for spells that were visually terrible, causing great physical damage.

"It depends, my Lord. Each spell is different. Some of these can be created by altering existing spells, but a couple will have to be from scratch…so I cannot say," she said honestly. She wasn't in a hurry to develop the spells for him.

"I will give you six months. That is a month to develop each spell. You will come to the labs every evening to work on them," the Dark Lord said in an imperious voice. This was not a request, it was a command. The first he'd given her. It wouldn't be wise to protest.

"Yes, my Lord," Hermione replied.

"Do not fail me, Hermione. You would not like to experience my displeasure," he said in a low voice, his eyes narrowing. "These spells must be completed in six months, or you will be punished."

"Yes, my Lord," Hermione said, curtseying. She could not rule out punishment when she wrote her conditions. He would not have agreed to that, although she did have a stipulation that he could not punish her at will. There had to be a good reason for it. Failing to create his spells on time would fall into the 'good reason' category.

Voldemort eyed her. It was usually at this point he gave any deatheater he commanded to fulfill a duty a touch of the Cruciatus curse, to drive home the threat of punishment, but he couldn't do this to Hermione. The witch looked up at him.

"My Lord, may Severus assist me?" she asked him.

The Dark Lord considered this.

"If you need his assistance, he may. But I don't want him distracting you from your work," the Dark Lord said, envisioning Severus fucking the witch against one of the counters.

"He won't my Lord," she replied.

Voldemort looked at her for a long moment. His servant Severus was quite a lucky wizard. Quite lucky indeed. Voldemort hoped however, that the ritual had driven some kind of wedge between them, one that would fester and rot their closeness over time. Love was not an emotion he approved of. It stole his fire. If Severus had to choose between his Lord and his wife, Voldemort felt that the Potions Master would turn from him. It was an unsettling thought. If Hermione were not so valuable, he would kill her to keep Severus under his thumb. As it was, he had to deal with the situation as best he could.

"You may go, Hermione. You can start working in the labs this weekend. That ought to give you some time to get your affairs in order. Are you employed yet?' the Dark Lord asked her.

"The Headmaster has made a position for me. I will be teaching the theory of spell-making," Hermione replied. The Dark Lord scowled.

"Surely he can't be paying you what you're worth. Why did you take such a position?" he asked her, his eyes narrowed.

"Because it is not demanding, my Lord. My focus is on your needs. If I accepted one of the more demanding positions, it would mean long hours, and exhaustion. I can't work well if I am stretched to my limit, my Lord. I wish to primarily serve you. Working at Hogwarts will allow that," she responded. Voldemort smiled. She gave the right answer.

"You are showing yourself to be most loyal, Hermione. You have my favor," he said lowering his ring. Hermione mounted the dais and kissed it. The Dark Lord stroked her hair for a moment. Hermione felt all cold inside at his touch. She hated him so much.

"You may go," the Dark Lord said, dismissing her.

Hermione backed down the dais.

"Thank you, my Lord," she said. Then she gave Peter a rather sexy smile, one that Voldemort didn't miss.

"Goodbye, Peter," she said, disapparating.

The Dark Lord looked at Peter, his scaly eyebrows raised.

"If I didn't know better, Peter…I would say Hermione favors you," he said slowly. "If that is the case, you'd better watch for Severus. He isn't willing to share her. He told me he was, but I know he isn't. You could be asking for trouble if you fuck her," the Dark Lord hissed.

"I'd face an army of Severuses for the chance to stick my dick in her, my Lord," Peter replied, his piggy eyes glistening with lust at the thought of having Hermione.

The Dark Lord looked at him consideringly.

"One Severus is army enough," Voldemort replied. "He'd castrate you if your cock came anywhere near his wife. Be careful, Peter. You are my most trusted servant. If Severus were to kill you, then I would have to kill him and probably Hermione too, so your lust could cost me three good servants. I will not forbid you to fuck to witch if you can…I wish I were in the position to do so, but I am not a brother and under conditions. But if you do fuck her, Peter, you must extract an oath that she will not reveal it to anyone, particularly Severus."

"Yes my Lord," Peter replied. That was actually a very wise idea. A very wise idea indeed.

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Hermione returned to Hogwarts, stripped off the hated robes and walked into the study. She looked at the time. Severus was still in class for the next three hours. She flopped into the armchair before the fireplace and looked at the horrible list of spells Voldemort was asking for. She was sure she could create them, but she certainly didn't want to.

She read the list:

1. Flesh Eating Spell ~ A spell that will melt the flesh off the body, leaving the skeleton behind.

2. Boneless Spell ~ A spell that will destroy the skeleton and leave the flesh.

3. Heartburst Spell ~ A spell that will explode the heart inside the body.

4. Eye Gouge Spell ~ A spell that will painfully rip eyeballs out of a wizard's head

5. Shredder Spell ~ A spell that will rip the flesh from the body in strips. Must be bloody.

6. Crusher Spell ~ A spell that will crush a wizard to a pulp.

Hermione shuddered. Voldemort was a monster. Only one spell wouldn't cause immediate death, the eye gouging one. But it would disable terribly. Every spell he desired was one that would cause horror and fear in any observer. That was what he wanted, not just to kill but to terrify while killing. She would design the spells for him, but make them so shielding spells easily stopped them. That would give the Order a chance. She couldn't give Albus the spells directly, or she would be busted when they were used on the deatheaters. Gods, she hated this. She needed to focus on Voldemort's elixir.

She would talk to Severus tonight. That bastard had to die.

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A/N: Wow. Voldemort is a twisted bastard isn't he? What horrible spells he wants. Poor Hermione. They better get to work on that elixir. Please review.