You Promised It Would Be Forever - Edit

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 2 ~ Voldemort's Gift

Severus was in bed in his private rooms when his mark began to burn. He woke up hissing and clasped his arm as the pain of Voldemort's summons hit him. Barely conscious, he rolled out of bed and automatically walked to the part of his bedroom wall that held the hidden panel which contained his deatheater robes. He opened it, quickly threw the robes on over his boxers, pulled on his socks and boots, then donned his half skull mask, raising his pointed hood. The Dark Lord rarely summoned him this late. It must be important.

Severus closed the panel and disapparated.

Voldemort sat on his throne impatiently, resplendent in violent robes interwoven with gold, waiting for his servant to appear. Several deatheaters lounged about the sparsely furnished throne room, talking as they leaned again the walls of the circular room. The walls were made of gray stone. They were splashed with crimson in places, evidence of violent entertainment. The Dark Lord liked the patterns of death and forbid the walls to be cleansed. It was a constant reminder of his power over the lives and deaths of others. Voldemort kept nothing for his deatheaters comfort…not even chairs. They had to stand in his presence. Only during the revels did he provide items of comfort such as chairs, mattresses and sofas. Otherwise only he would be comfortable in his domain.

The dark wizard drummed his long, thin fingers on the side of the throne impatiently. He couldn't wait to see Severus' face when he saw the gift his Lord had procured for him. The Potions Master had not been himself over the last few months. Voldemort had hoped he would recover quickly from the dissolution of that farce of a marriage to the mudblood witch. He had hoped that Severus would come around and regain his fierceness. But he hadn't.

One of the Dark Lord's greatest pleasures was pitting his deatheaters against each other in battle. He fought them for his pleasure like insensitive owners fought dogs. Severus had been his most vicious fighter, particularly in the months before his divorce. He had so much pent up rage that he beat every opponent brutally, having to be crucio'd in order to keep from killing them with his bare hands. The mudblood had been good for keeping the wizard savage and on edge. Severus spent days at a time in the makeshift arena, taking on deatheater after deatheater, always hungry for more blood.

But when they separated, it was as if Severus had lost his will for battle. He lost to deatheaters he should have easily beaten, and as a result lost the respect many had for him. The Potions Master let comments slip off his back he would have broken a man's neck for a year earlier. Severus was valuable to the Dark Lord as a spy and hadn't lost his usefulness there, but the Dark Lord wanted his gladiator back. Maybe if he had something to fight for…

Severus appeared before the throne with a crack of thunder and dropped to one knee in deference to his Lord.

"I am here, my Lord," he said, head bowed.

"Arise Severus, remove your hood and mask, then approach the throne," Voldemort lisped in his high-pitched voice.

Severus did as the Dark Lord asked, lowering his hood and pulling off his mask, sticking it in his pocket. He looked a bit gaunter now than he did a year ago. He approached the throne, his black eyes on the floor. Voldemort extended his ring, and Severus took his cold, thin hand in his and kissed the black onyx stone.

"Thank you, my Lord," he said, stepping back.

"You may look at me, Severus. I have something for you," Voldemort lisped, his red eyes glittering with excitement. "A gift that I hope you will appreciate."

The Dark Lord clapped his hands together sharply.

A door to the right of them opened and Peter Pettigrew walked quickly into the room. Well, as quickly as he could considering he was yanking Hermione along by her long, curly hair. He walked up to the throne and flung the witch to the floor. Voldemort had healed her head wound, and crucio'd Lucius for being so careless, but dried blood was still on her face. She was shuddering a bit, having been crucio'd also for demanding to know why she had been brought there. The witch had heart, that was for certain. Few screamed at the Dark Lord and lived.

Severus looked down at his ex-wife rather coldly. The deatheaters that had been quietly conversating among themselves began to amble toward the throne, interested looks on their faces.

Hermione looked up at Severus, a trail of dried blood leading to her mouth visible. He looked at her without evidencing the slightest bit of emotion at her plight. He wasn't going to help her. Severus looked up at the Dark Lord, who frowned at him.

"Well, aren't you pleased, Severus? You have the witch in your power now. You can keep her here to use for your pleasure and regain your will to fight. You've been pining. I brought her to you so you can relieve yourself or wreak vengeance. She did dissolve your marriage after all, and despite it's legality…it is a point of shame to be thrown aside by a witch. I should think you'd want to punish her or at least fuck her again," Voldemort said with irritation in his voice.

Severus looked at the witch on the floor consideringly.

"I don't want her," he said flatly.

"Don't want her, Severus? Why?" the Dark Lord asked him. "She looks like a perfectly good bit of trim to me."

"Because she's a selfish, whining, frigid little bitch, that's why," he said bitterly.

Hermione looked at him with wide eyes, then they narrowed.

"And you're an insufferable, heartless, lying, cheating bastard," she shot back at him…her eyes glittering.

Voldemort's eyebrows rose at Hermione's insolence. Surely Severus wasn't going to let her get away with that, especially in front of him. The witch deserved a beating.

But the Potions Master did nothing but look at her for a moment, then he looked at the Dark Lord.

"You can see why I don't want her. Send her back, my Lord," he said to his Master. "I have no use for her. I'd rather masturbate than go near her."

On hearing this, one of the wizards watching, MacNair, stepped forward quickly. He dropped to one knee, waiting for Voldemort to acknowledge him.

"Yes MacNair?" the Dark Lord asked him. "You may look at me and speak."

"Begging your pardon, my Lord, but if Severus doesn't want her…can we have her?" he asked Voldemort. His rheumy eyes slid over the witch. She had quite a few curves under that robe, and if she fucked the Potions Master…she was probably tough sexually. They could get a lot of use out of her…maybe keep her as a plaything.

Hermione paled as the wizard's eyes swept over her hotly. It was quite plain what they wanted to do to her. She looked at Severus again. He hadn't reacted at all.

Voldemort considered Severus. Cold as he looked, the Dark Lord didn't believe he had lost all feeling for the witch. Not the way he had been getting his ass kicked the past few months.

"Yes, MacNair. Since Severus doesn't want her, you can have her. Here," the Dark Lord said, carelessly flicking his wand and a huge mattress appearing next to the far wall. "Go fuck her or whatever it is you want to do."

Hermione screamed as MacNair lunged at her, grabbing her by the arm and yanking her against his body. The wizard was huge. At least six foot seven. Several of his teeth were missing, courtesy of Severus in his heyday. He gathered her small body against him.

"Ooh, I'm going to love ramming my cock into you, little witch," he rasped, lifting her up against him as she beat against his chest and kicked her legs frantically.

"May I go, my Lord?" Severus asked as his ex-wife screamed.

Voldemort looked at him, disappointment in his crimson orbs. His snake tongue flicked out. Guess it didn't work after all.

"Yes, Severus. You are free to go," he said.

The Potions Master turned and started to walk a distance from the throne to disapparate. No one was to do it within fifteen feet of the Dark Lord for some reason. Probably because the dark wizard found it disrespectful.

"You bit me…you little bitch!" MacNair snarled.

Severus heard a slap, and a scream, then another slap as the wizard began to punish his ex-wife.

"You think I'm like your ex-husband, witch? You think I'll let you get away with disrespecting me? I'll teach you how to talk properly to a wizard," MacNair raved, another slap sounding as Hermione cried out

Severus halted and scowled, his head down.

Suddenly he turned and walked back toward the throne.

"I'll take her my Lord," he said to Voldemort, whose eyes lit up.

MacNair stopped slapping the witch and let her slide down his body to the floor. He held her firmly by one arm as she gasped. Hermione's face was badly bruised on both sides. MacNair had big hands.

Voldemort almost rubbed his hands together in glee. This was what he'd been waiting for.

"No! You already said you didn't want her Severus. The Dark Lord gave her to us!" MacNair said, frowning at him, holding Hermione's arm so tightly she was wincing.

"I'm afraid MacNair is right, Severus. I gave the witch to them for their pleasure. I am a wizard of my word, as you know."

Severus looked at MacNair and the other deatheaters. They were going to beat, rape and kill Hermione if he didn't do something. Why he should care, he didn't know. She had served him the divorce papers, clearly telling him with that act that she honestly didn't want his love or his protection. She had moved all his belongings to Hogwarts. She didn't want to even make an attempt at reconciliation. In essence, she had thrown him out. Out of his house and out of her life. Now she needed him.

"However…" Voldemort said, a nasty, lipless smile spread across his face, "you could fight for her, Severus."

He waved his hand at the five deatheaters.

"All of them. One at a time. If you win…she's yours. You'd have to keep her here, however. Are you willing to fight to keep her from them?" Voldemort asked the Potions Master, holding his breath.

Severus looked at the battered witch. Hermione was staring back at him, her amber eyes level and slightly swollen. But the witch didn't looking pleadingly at him. She looked resigned. She thought he was going to let her die and was steeling herself. MacNair was staring at him too, a leering look on his face. Severus had been getting his ass kicked by him all year. No way would the Potions Master be willing to fight him and four other deatheaters. His cock was as good as stuffed in the witch right now.

"I will fight them," Severus said quietly.

Voldemort clapped his hands together like a happy child.

"Excsssssssssellent!" he cried, his excitement causing him to hiss. "Wormtail!"

Peter Pettigrew appeared like magic.

"Take the witch and put her in one of the back rooms. Ward the door and don't touch her. She's the 'prize.' If you want to fuck her, then you have to fight too."

Peter wouldn't mind fucking Hermione…he had already felt her up when he brought her unconscious to the room the first time, after the Dark Lord healed her cut. But he looked at Severus. He had been getting the shit kicked out of him lately, but Peter doubted he could beat the wizard.

"No my Lord. I'll just put her in the room," he said, walking up to MacNair and trying to take Hermione.

The big wizard didn't want to let her go.

"Crucio!" Voldemort said, hitting MacNair with the Cruciatus curse with next to no concern. The wizard released Hermione as he seized up and shuddered in agony. Peter led Hermione away holding her arm firmly, half dragging her in the process. They disappeared through the same door they came out of.

Voldemort released MacNair, who fell to the floor writhing. The Dark Lord looked at the Potions Master.

"Since you are going to fight so many wizards, Severus, it is only fair I give you the choice of order," he said.

Severus looked at the deatheaters consideringly. They all looked confident, except MacNair who was just starting to recover from his spasms. It would be wise to fight him while in this weakened state.

"First MacNair," he said, "Then Travis, McQuire, Aslund and last, Weasley.

Percy Weasley stared at the Potions Master appraisingly, his brown eyes looking him over. The Potions Master would be weak by the time he got to him. He might be able to beat him. He'd wanted to fuck Hermione since she was a fourth year, but he never got a chance to approach her because of his idiot brother and Harry fucking Potter. Better late than never.

Voldemort was looking at the four men too. He thought Severus had wisely placed them. Weasley was the least dangerous without a wand. They would be going toe-to-toe, barehanded, the round over when one was incapacitated, or could not win.

"Very well, Severus, you may prepare yourself," the dark wizard said.

A bench appeared against a side wall, and Severus walked over to it, unfastening his robes as he walked. He was doing it again. Risking his life for the ungrateful little witch…well not his life, yet a good beating. He was tortured severely for choosing to marry her. The Dark Lord had been very displeased. Fucking her was one thing, but marrying a mudblood? Severus paid for the right to bed Hermione with his blood. And she divorced him. Now here he was again, ready to lose more blood over her and she wasn't even his anymore.

Severus peeled off his robes. He only had on boxers beneath it. He toed off his boots and pulled off his socks, rolling them up and stuffing them inside his robes pocket.

The Potions Master stood up and began stretching and flexing, tossing his head quickly side to side, then bulking up, cracking his neck and back.

Voldemort looked at MacNair, who was still on the floor gasping.

"MacNair, get up!" Voldemort hissed at him, "You've got a fight with Severus in less than ten minutes. Snap out of it or he's going to beat you senseless."

MacNair slowly stood and gathered enough of his senses about him to reply to his Master.

"Begging your pardon my Lord, but I've been beating Severus like a child all year," the wizard breathed, his chest heaving. He still shuddered slightly.

Voldemort narrowed his eyes at him.

"That was then, MacNair. This time he has something to fight for," the Dark Lord replied, looking over at the Potions Master's lean, muscular form as he stretched and bounced about, throwing blows and kicks.

"Something I will take away from him again and again."

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A/N: Done. Kind of chilling chapter the way Severus let MacNair do Hermione before he decided to help her. He is very bitter about their divorce. I think he seriously thought about letting them have her. Wow. Well at least we know Voldie's motive. He wants to dogfight Sev. Well, at least Severus' isn't a sex toy this story. Lol. And what the hell is Percy doing there??? Damn. Anyway, please review.