Becoming Familiar with a Man of Misery - COMPLETED

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
*******************************

Chapter 16 ~ Interruption

After about half an hour, Severus made his way to his potions stores and drank down a healing potion. The ache in his balls stopped. His black eyes narrowed, and he started to make his way to Hermione's rooms. He wasn't sure if he would hex the witch or not. Actually he had deserved what he got, but knowing Hermione, she'd be waiting for him, wand at the ready.

As he went to open the door, a sharp pain shot through his forearm.

"No," he breathed, clutching at it, "Not now."

Raucous, who had been hopping along behind him let out a worried squawk as his mind was filled with the image of Voldemort casting the Cruciatus curse on his master.

Grimacing and holding his arm, Severus turned, opened the study wall and entered his rooms. He walked up to the floo, took some floo powder out of the box resting on the mantle and tossed it into the flames. They turned green.

"Dumbledore's office," he breathed. The mark was searing now.

"Albus!" he called.

There was silence, then the Headmaster answered him.

"Yes, Severus?"

"I've been summoned," he said.

"On a Sunday night? That's odd. Well, go to him. Poppy will be alerted and we will wait for your return. Your classes will be covered if you do not return tonight. Good luck my boy," Albus replied.

Severus walked quickly from his study to his bedroom and pushed a stone in the wall. A secret panel opened on the other side of the room. Inside it was his deatheater robes and mask. He quickly changed, fighting off the scorching pain in his arm. Raucous stared at him worriedly.

The Potions Master pulled on his skull half-mask and pulled the pointed hood over his head. He looked down at the raven. He certainly looked frightening. He addressed the bird.

"Raucous, I'm afraid you will be on your own until I return. Hopefully you can forage for your meals," the Potions Master said.

Normally, Raucous would be appalled at this, but realized the gravity of the situation. He squawked assent. He'd figure out something. Hopefully the wizard would return soon. And in one piece.

Severus nodded at the bird, then disapparated with a clap of thunder. Raucous looked at the empty space the wizard had occupied and let out a sad, worried croak. He hoped the wizard would be all right.

******************************

Hermione waited for the wizard to come for her. Three hours passed and he still didn't show. Now Hermione was worried. She had read that men could be seriously injured when kicked in their balls. Maybe the Potions Master was more hurt than she initially thought.

Her wand in hand, she exited her rooms and headed for the Potions office. She tried the door and it was still unlocked, which was surprising. Something was wrong. Her wand drawn in case of a sneak attack, Hermione cautiously entered the Potions office. She noticed immediately that the study wall was up. This was also strange.

She checked the lab. The Potions Master wasn't there, but she was heartened. It meant he was able to leave the room. She checked the potions classroom and the stores area, making sure he wasn't there before she entered the study.

"Severus?" she called, keeping her wand extended in case the wizard should suddenly appear and try to hex her. There was no human response. Instead, Raucous answered her. From the sound of him, the raven was in the bedroom.

Hermione walked into the wizard's bedroom slowly, wand first. Raucous was standing in the middle of the floor. He was a florescent yellow from the spell she cast on him. She narrowed her eyes warningly at the raven, then looked around the Professor's sparsely furnished room. He had nothing on the walls, and only a bed, a chair and a wardrobe. The bed was covered in Slytherin colors. It figured. Then she saw his robes on the floor. She didn't know much about the wizard's habits, but felt this wasn't normal treatment of his clothing. He always was dressed meticulously. He didn't seem the type to carelessly cast his clothing around…unless…

She looked at Raucous.

"He's been summoned, hasn't he?" she asked the bird.

The bird nodded, and let out a sad little croak.

"Gods," she said under her breath, sitting down on the edge of the Potions Master's four-poster bed. The mattress was extremely firm. It figured such a hard man would have an equally hard bed.

Now she knew why he hadn't come after her. Voldemort had summoned him. On a Sunday night. That was unusual because the Dark Lord usually made sure that the Potions Master was available for classes during the week. Severus rarely came back the same night of a summons. Normally he would leave on a Friday night and return late Sunday. At least that had been the pattern when she attended Hogwarts.

Hermione's brow furrowed with worry. Whatever was going to happen tonight between her and the Potions Master had been put on hold, and would probably be on hold for a while. Rarely did Severus returned from an encounter with Voldemort unscathed, having either been beaten or repeatedly tortured with the Cruciatus curse in an attempt to get information the Dark Lord suspected him of holding back. If Severus ever did reveal anything under torture, he would be killed. Period. The wizard could take an unbelievable amount of pain. But no one could develop a tolerance for the Cruciatus curse. It was always excruciating.

Well, there was nothing Hermione could do but wait for his return. She looked at Raucous, who stared at her silently. He was so worried about Severus he didn't even think about retaliation against the witch.

"Raucous? Do you want to stay with me while Severus is gone?" the witch asked him. She didn't like the raven any more than he liked her, but it seemed wrong to leave him here alone.

Raucous shook his head. Things weren't that bad that he'd stay in Hermione's rooms.

"Suit yourself," Hermione said, rising and exiting the bedroom.

She exited the study and lowered the wall. Then she exited the Potions Master's office, warding it securely before returning to her rooms. She entered her bedroom, dressed for bed and crawled under the covers. She lay there looking up at the ceiling, trying to keep awful images of Severus being tortured out of her mind.

She prayed he'd be all right.

****************************

Severus appeared in the middle of Voldemort's throne room. A revel was in full swing, copulating deatheaters all around. In one corner of the room, some unfortunate wizard was hanging by manacles as several deatheaters took turns scourging him. Blood ran freely down his legs, dripping to the floor below. He was beyond screaming, and the deatheaters were flogging him mercilessly, trying to get at least one more cry out of him.

There were several lines of deatheaters patiently waiting for their turn to rape, beat and mutilate the unfortunate muggle women who had been snatched off the streets of London for that purpose. From the condition of these poor souls, the revel had been going on for quite some time. They were beaten and bruised, a couple of them obviously on the brink of death.

Lucius Malfoy was busily thrusting into the mouth of a gagging muggle woman, slapping her on the back of her head and demanding she swallow his cock down her throat. One of the woman's eyes was swollen shut, and a trail of blood ran from her mouth. Lucius looked up as Severus lowered his hood and removed his mask, and waved at him before returning his attention to the battered woman kneeling before him. Severus gave him a sober nod, before approaching the Dark Lord, who was sitting on a large golden throne in the center of the room, observing the activities going on around him

Peter Pettigrew was standing beside the throne next to a table. On the table was a bottle of vodka, the Dark Lord's favorite liquor, some never-melting ice, a shaker, a wicked looking dagger and several glasses. As Severus approached, he heard the Dark Lord say to Peter, "Make me a Bloody Muggle."

"Yes, my Lord," Peter said, picking up the shaker and the dagger and looking around the room speculatively. His beady eyes fell on a muggle woman who was near dead, a deatheater riding her for all he was worth. The rotund little wizard walked over to the woman, leaned down and neatly sliced her throat, holding the shaker underneath and catching the blood.

"Hey!" complained the stroking deatheater, "I wasn't done with her yet, Peter!"

"Care to tell the Dark Lord that?" the fat wizard snarled at him as he withdrew the shaker.

The deatheater paled, and stopped fucking the now dead muggle woman.

"No. It's fine, Peter," he replied.

"I thought so," Peter smirked as he turned and walked back to the table next to the throne.

The wizard added a scoop of ice to the shaker, then carefully measured out three shots of vodka and poured them one after the other into the container. He screwed on the top, and shook it soundly, then opened it, poured the contents into a glass, and put a little decorative umbrella in it. He handed the glass to the Dark Lord.

"Just the way you like it, my Lord," the wizard said, bowing.

"Why, thank you Peter," Voldemort replied in his high-pitched voice. He took a sip of the drink and smacked his scaly, almost lipless mouth appreciatively. Then his red eyes slid to Severus, who was standing before him, the wizard's face carefully blank.

"Care to join me in a drink, Severus?" he asked the wizard, "There is plenty."

"No thank you, my Lord," the Potions Master said, bowing.

"You have no idea what you're missing. A Bloody Muggle is quite good, especially when the blood comes from a brutalized victim. The adrenaline makes it…sweeter," he said, taking another sip.

"Yes, my Lord," Severus replied, his black eyes glinting a bit. He hated the Dark Lord with every fiber of his being. He had to work hard at hiding it, especially at times like this. But he had plenty of practice.

The Dark Lord looked at him speculatively.

"I was sitting here, enjoying the entertainment when the thought crossed my mind that I hadn't seen you in some time. I realize your duties at Hogwarts require your presence and make allowances for it, but tonight I just felt like seeing you, Severus. How are things at that damnable school? Do you have any information for me on the activities of that fool Dumbledore?" he asked the Potions Master.

"Things are quite quiet my Lord. Albus hasn't made any moves that I know of. He seems to be sitting on his hands," Severus replied smoothly.

The Dark Lord frowned at him.

"You mean to tell me, Severus, that in the month since I've seen you, you've collected no information at all?" the Dark Lord asked him, anger rising in his voice.

"I cannot collect information when there is none, my Lord. I assure you I have been listening," the Potions Master said, aware of what was coming.

Voldemort drained his Bloody Muggle and handed the glass back to Peter. He leaned forward in the throne towards the Potions Master, his red eyes hard.

"Tell me why I keep you alive, Severus," the wizard asked him.

"To provide information on the activities of Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix, my Lord, "the Potions Master replied evenly, "And to brew the elixir that keeps you alive."

"Ah yesssss, the elixir," the Dark Lord lisped, "the brew that you will not give anyone else the details of."

"It is a very involved process, my Lord. There is no one else with the skills to create it," Severus replied.

"More than likely, Severus, you keep the exact recipe to yourself to save your miserable life," the Dark Lord spat.

Severus looked at the Dark Lord coolly.

"As you say, my Lord," he responded.

Voldemort was exactly right. Severus was not about to give out the exact formula to the potion. He had been tortured for it and still would not give it up. Voldemort couldn't kill him, because he needed the wizard to brew the elixir. Without it, he would die. But he had been sending Peter into the lab to observe the Potions Master's brewing with the hope the fat wizard could discover the formula, but Severus was quite good with sleight of hand, and although Peter knew the ingredients, he did not know the precise measurements to add to the brew. He had tried several times to recreate it for the Dark Lord, but failed every time.

Severus's reply infuriated the Dark Lord. He pointed his wand at Severus, who braced himself.

"Crucio!" Voldemort cried, and the Potions Master begin to writhe in pain as the wizard applied the curse, his eyes rolling up into his head and body spasming terribly.

As he held his wand on the Potions Master, Voldemort said to Peter, "Peter, have McNair string up the manacles and bring the scourges. I have found a new entertainment for the rest of the evening."

"Yes, my Lord," said Peter gleefully.

He loved when the Dark Lord tortured the Potions Master. Severus was important to the Dark Lord, more so than he was, though the animagus was Voldemort's most trusted servant, and served him personally. When Severus was mistreated, it made Peter feel his position was more secure. He himself rarely felt the Dark Lord's wrath. He rushed off to find McNair.

Voldemort released Severus, who crumpled to the ground, shuddering.

"You will serve me better, Severus. I need you for the moment, but I don't want you thinking you are beyond my wrath. I am the Lord here. You are mine to do with what I please!" he said to the wizard.

"Yes my Lord," Severus gasped as a wickedly smiling McNair approached followed by Peter.

The wizard had an armful of chains, scourges and a bullwhip. He looked down at Severus hungrily, then dropped his load on the floor beside him. One after the other he levitated the ends of the chains to hooks on the ceiling. He didn't need to measure them against the wizard. McNair had done this so much, he knew the right height to hang the manacles by heart. He pulled Severus to his feet and began to unbutton his robes.

"Welcome back, Severus," the wizard growled at him with a nasty grin, "You have no idea how I've missed you."

The Potions Master still shuddered slightly as the burly deatheater removed his robes, then tore his shirt off of him, revealing his lean, pale upper body. He turned him around and inspected the scars on his back.

"I'm going to have to really work on you to open this back up," he hissed in the wizard's ear, "You have so much scar tissue, it's protective. That will never do."

The deatheater lifted the unresisting Potions Master and clamped one manacle after the other around his wrists, then dropped him so he dangled a foot off the floor, his ruined back facing the Dark Lord. Then McNair picked up the scourges and held them out to the Dark Lord, whose red eyes inspected them.

"Use the bone scourge first, McNair," Voldemort directed.

McNair put the other scourges on the table holding the liquor and did a few warm-up lashes in the air, the sharp bones tied to the leather thongs rattling as he drew his arm back. Then he walked to the left of the Potions Master and stood there, waiting for the Dark Lord's orders.

"I think we'll start with twenty lashes with the bone scourge, McNair, then transfer to the bull whip."

"Yes, my Lord," McNair replied as a crowd of deatheaters gathered to watch the show.

McNair drew back his muscular arm, then lashed the Professor's back with the scourge, the sharp bones embedding in his skin. Then McNair pulled sideways, tearing the flesh open. Severus arched from the pain, his body swinging slightly, but didn't cry out as the crowd chanted "One!"

McNair drew back his arm and lashed the Potions Master again, ripping his already bloodied flesh.

"Two!" the crowd of deatheaters shouted.

"Three!"

"Four!"

Severus' head dropped forward, his silky hair falling around his face as he mentally removed himself from the pain. For the first time since he agreed to serve the Order as a spy, the Potions Master had someone to think about other than Albus who he knew would hate what was happening to him.

Hermione.

******************************
A/N: Poor Severus. Man. Please review.