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 4 ~ The Unwanted Voice of Reason

Hermione's wand and bag were found early the next morning by a shopkeeper on his way to open his store. He picked both items up and brought them into his place of business. He checked inside the bag and saw the paperwork for the Ministry. He contacted them by owl and two Aurors arrived to pick up both the bag and the wand. A quick examination showed both belonged to Hermione Granger, who hadn't shown up for work, which was quite odd, since the witch was punctual and responsible. If she needed a day off or were sick, she would have contacted her Department head.

Two Aurors were sent to her home in Little Hangelton. When they knocked several times and Hermione didn't answer, they let themselves in. She wasn't there but the wizards saw no sign of foul play. They checked her bedroom and found her bed hadn't been slept in.

They returned to the Ministry and reported Hermione could not be found. If the shopkeeper had found the bag alone, they might have assumed the witch lost it. But her wand also being found was quite ominous. No witch or wizard ever carelessly left his or her wand. It was suspected that Hermione Granger had come to harm. Still, they decided to wait another twenty-four hours before acting. She might turn up on her own. If not, they would begin an investigation, and her disappearance would become public knowledge.

At Hogwarts however, Hermione's disappearance was private knowledge.

Albus Dumbledore looked over his desk rather worriedly into the dispassionate eyes of Professor Severus Snape as he told the Headmaster of Hermione's capture and subsequent imprisonment in the Dark Lord's stronghold.

"Couldn't you have brought her out, Severus? Why does the Dark Lord want her?" Albus asked him.

"No. The Dark Lord wants her kept at the stronghold. He believes that her presence will keep me on edge enough to perform well in the arena. Since our divorce, I must admit I've been less than on point. Her presence did aggravate me enough to defeat four deatheaters I engaged to protect her from being killed. But I cannot continue to place myself in harm's way to protect her, Albus. She is not my responsibility. I cannot and I will not," Severus said evenly.

"But if you do not protect her, Severus, ultimately the deatheaters will use her and kill her," the Headmaster said softly.

Severus looked at the Headmaster for a moment, then all the bitterness he felt came pouring out of him in one great flood.

"Hermione divorced me, Albus! She promised our love would last forever, made me believe her, so I took the risk of loving her, then she ripped my heart out and crushed it under her heel. Hermione turned away from me, left my bed, became abusive, accused me of things I would never do, took me to the very end of my last nerve, then threw me out of my own house and divorced me."

"She would not attempt reconciliation, nor would she allow me to do right by her and provide support or give her money that, as far as I was concerned, she deserved, although she made my life miserable. She was my wife and the mother of my child, and she cut me out of her life. Now am I supposed to go running to help her? After what she did to me? To us? No. No, she chose to be free of me. Let her do the best she can on her own. "

Albus looked at Severus rather sadly.

"You know Severus…it was the loss of her child that was the cause of her turning away. She felt too much grief and couldn't cope with the loss. She needed comfort and understanding.

Severus scowled at the Headmaster.

"Her child? Her child? Albus, he was my child too. My son. My flesh and blood. I felt the loss just as powerfully as she did. I may not have carried him, but I felt him…his life…and his death. I needed her comfort and understanding just as much as she needed mine. But what did she do, Albus? She destroyed everything. Closed me out and started ripping at the fabric of our love until it was shredded. I held on to the hope it could be repaired, but she became worse and worse, driving me to the point of almost striking her she was so mentally abusive. She told me she hated me more times than I can count. Yes, I said some things I shouldn't have, but so did she. She had my love and my protection once, and she flung it away. I have nothing invested in her now. Her predicament is her own problem," Severus said blackly.

Albus looked at the dark wizard, tapping his fingertips together lightly before he responded.

"Is it really, Severus? Have you even considered that the Dark Lord never would have taken Hermione if it weren't for you? That if she dies, it will be because you once loved her? It will be because she once loved you? If they rape and maim her, it will be because once you both shared something beautiful. If you had never taken her in the first place, Severus, Hermione would be at her job right now. Safe."

Severus blinked at the old wizard, not knowing what to say in the face of this glaring truth. In his bitterness at her divorcing him, he didn't see the bigger picture. All he saw was the witch he was formerly involved with in a hard situation, a witch who had threw him over and refused to accept his love and protection any longer. By divorcing him, she had also made him a public spectacle. Divorce among wizards and witches was next to unheard of. That he had lost a witch he was supposed to be bound to until death was a matter of great shame. And he was a proud man. He hated the whispers he would hear when he passed others. Most comments were along the lines of the following.

"There goes that divorced wizard. A muggle-born witch married him, then threw him over. He was a fool anyway and got what he deserved. He should have married one of his own."

Yet despite the mental and emotional trauma he had gone through because of Hermione, and the coldness he felt toward her now…Albus was right. It was because of him she was in Voldemort's cold, scaly clutches. Every time a deatheater touched her, it would be because she had once loved him. Shit.

Severus rose.

"Headmaster, I must go. Class starts in ten minutes," he said, not addressing what Albus had stated.

Severus looked at the old wizard and noticed with irritation his blue eyes were twinkling behind the half-moon glasses again.

"I'm not sure how much the Order can do for Hermione's situation, Severus. As much as I care for the witch, her capture does not warrant starting the Final Battle for. So I'm afraid I have to leave her in your capable hands," Albus said.

Severus scowled at him.

"In my hands? I feel the sudden need for soap," the Potions Master snarked before stepping through the floo.

Behind the Headmaster, Fawkes began to sing.

The Headmaster turned his head and raised his eyebrows at the phoenix.

"Why Fawkes," Albus said, grinning at the bird, "I believe I heard you sing that same song five years ago when the Potions Master left after a discussion about Hermione. Same old tune, eh?"

Albus winked at the phoenix, who fluttered his wings and trilled agreement.

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Severus emerged in his study, still scowling.

"I refuse," he said to himself, "I refuse to feel guilty about what's happened to that witch. She divorced me, I didn't divorce her. Why should I provide protection to someone without recompense? Especially someone who rejected me?"

Angrily he picked up his lesson plan and started for his classroom. An irritating little voice was sounding in his head.

"She wouldn't be there if not for you. She was your wife. She was the mother of your child. She loved you once. You would have never known love at all if not for her."

"Shut up!" the Potions Master hissed, storming into his classroom.


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Peter Pettigrew entered Hermione's room. He saw it had been cleaned…probably by Severus. Hermione was curled up in a fetal position, dressed in her robes. One shapely leg stuck out from where the robes had ridden up mid-thigh. Peter admired it for a moment.

"Wake up!" he hissed, holding a steaming bowl of something in his hand.

Hermione didn't move

Peter looked over to the loo and saw she had her clothing folded neatly on top of it. Her jeans t-shirt and bra. Her knickers were draped over the edge of the basin, still damp from her washing them out. The wizard turned his beady eyes slowly on the still sleeping witch. She was naked under her robes. He looked at her leg and licked his thick lips. He moved closer to the bed and placed his hand on her thigh where the robe rode high. Slowly he began to push it up, rubbing his palm on her skin, trying to see the patch of hair hidden between her thighs…ooh just one look.

Suddenly Hermione's leg kicked back, catching the wizard in the stomach and upsetting the bowl he held so the food burned his arm. Hermione sat up in the bed, clutching her robes around her, moving back as far as she could.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing!" she yelled at the bent wizard.

"I was trying to wake you," he grunted.

This was bad. The Dark Lord said she wasn't to be touched, and he had touched her.

"How? By feeling me up?" Hermione demanded.

Peter straightened a bit, holding his stomach.

"Pretty soon witch, you'll be getting more than felt up. No one stays in the Dark Lord's domain without performing a service. Not even prisoners," he said, his eyes dragging over her. She was small but very curvy. Her robes couldn't hide that.

"It's not hard to tell what your duties are going to be," he smirked at her, shaking his arm. "That was your breakfast you kicked out my hand. Maybe you'll be more careful at lunch."

Hermione's stomach growled.

"Aren't you going to bring me more? It was your fault it spilled after all," Hermione said.

Peter looked at her with a leer.

"How about this?" he asked, "You be nice to me, and I'll be nice to you and bring you more food."

Hermione looked at the fat, hairy, balding rat-faced wizard and felt nauseous. All hunger drained away.

"I'll wait until lunch then," she said.

"Suit yourself, bitch," Peter snarled at her, angry he couldn't manipulate the witch. "I'll be back for you in about an hour. The Dark Lord wants to see you. Probably to discuss your 'service'."

The wizard laughed nastily as he picked up the bowl and exited. Hermione looked down at the floor at what appeared to be gray gruel of some sort. She wouldn't have found it appetizing, but she probably would have eaten it. Peter didn't even bother to scourgify the mess up.

Hermione threw the discarded scratchy wool blanket over the spillage and sopped it up, bundling up the blanket and throwing it into the corner when she was finished. She walked over to the basin, looked a bit apprehensively at the door, then dragged the bed over to it, wedging it in front of the entrance on a slant. Then she quickly removed her robes and ran the water in the basin.

The water came out a deep, sludgy brown at first, but after a moment it cleared. Using her hands, Hermione washed up as best she could. She had no washcloth or soap, so just rubbed the water over her skin. Then she jumped about a bit to try and dry off. She was still nervous about someone trying to come in and catching her naked. That wasn't a good idea. She had a feeling deatheaters would certainly take advantage of the situation.

Hermione didn't know for the time being she wasn't to be touched by Voldemort's orders. She could have walked buck naked through a crowd of deatheaters and not one would have touched her. Disobeying the Dark Lord was a death sentence, and no pussy was worth that.

Hermione dressed quickly, then pulled the bed back to its original place, and sat down on it. She needed to think. What could she offer to do for the Dark Lord that didn't involved sex? She didn't have her wand with her so she couldn't do spell work. She could cook, but she didn't think the Dark Lord ate like normal wizards. He probably ate small, living rodents by the look of him, and those didn't require preparation. She was a talented researcher, and good with potions…making potions didn't require much wand work. She did have a potions degree, though she wasn't a Potions Mistress, legally. But her knowledge was quite in depth. She wasn't far from one. Maybe she could convince him to let her work with Severus or on her own in the Potions lab. It was worth a try.

The door opened.

"You ready?" he asked her coldly.

Hermione nodded.

"Well, come on then," the wizard said, holding the door open.

Hermione stood up and walked through. Peter thrust himself forward so her hip grazed his loins as she passed. Hermione grimaced. He was disgusting.

She walked down the hall toward the door that led to the throne room, followed closely by Peter.

Well, this was it. In the labs or on her back, Voldemort was going to assign her something to do.

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A/N: Good old Albus. He seems to always know what to say to Severus to get him thinking along the right lines. Peter is just a pig. Hope Hermione can go to the labs or she's going to be in a bad way. Please review.