A Song for Severus ~ (Not Update, but Edit)

Chapter 48 ~ Selections and Homecomings

Pumbleberry hemmed and hawed importantly as each Death Eater drew a name out of a crimson silk bag with the Mordesmodre symbol embroidered on it in gold. Severus, who was sitting next to Rosier watched, his black eyes slightly bloodshot. It had been a horrible week for him. The revels had been worse than ever simply because the Death Eaters had cut back on kidnappings and only had a few victims who suffered horribly because so many abused them before they died. The Potions Master was so ready to leave, but he had to be here for this…the pairing off of opponents.

Fenrir Greyback was there, and in a foul mood even for him…though he wouldn’t say what was bothering him. Elizabeth was also there, her blue eyes resting on the werewolf with hatred.

“Fenrir. Please, Fenrir,” she breathed as she reached into the bag. But alas, she chose another Death Eater…an Arnold Fizzbang. Arnold’s hazel eyes washed over Elizabeth speculatively, an ugly look on his face.

“Dead witch,” he mouthed at Elizabeth as his name was announced. No doubt he wanted to try to psychologically frighten the witch.

Elizabeth simply looked at him coolly and said, “Make your peace with the world, wizard. You’ll be departing shortly.”

Arnold turned red with rage.

Fenrir was facing off against Sharon Bugeon, a small red-haired witch with wild brown eyes. She looked insane as she rocked continuously, pulling her fingers through her hair. Small, mean and carrying a grudge against the world, Sharon believed ruling it would make life better for her. It couldn’t get much worse. She stared at the werewolf.

Fenrir gave her a nasty, toothy grin. She wouldn’t take long at all.

Eleven more Death Eaters chose their opponents, who were announced then sized each other up. When all the selections were made, Pumbleberry stood up.

“Erm…all opponents have been…erm…selected. You have…erm…two days to polish up. Friday night at…erm…midnight will be the first face-off. Erm…survivors will be paired off and continue the competition…erm…next Friday,” the fat wizard said, sitting back down.

Rosier stood up.

“Please make sure you have left final instructions for interment and names of next of kin you want notified in the event of your death before you leave,” he said.

The Death Eaters murmured among themselves, some walking over to a table with quills and parchment to make their final arrangements. Rosier sat back down and looked at Severus, who was paler than usual.

“You seem ready to go, Severus,” the jeweler said to him.

The Potions Master nodded.

“It’s been quite a week, Rosier,” he replied.

Rosier gave a small smile.

“Yes. The revels this week were truly brutal due to the lack of victims. They almost turned even my stomach. Almost. Not quite. But a lot of steam was let off, and that’s what’s important. There won’t be any more revels until the new Dark Lord is selected and in power, so our Death Eaters made sure to get their fill. A pity you couldn’t participate, Severus…except to kill them. There is so much more to enjoy.”

“My lack of participation is something I’ve learned to live with,” Severus replied, rising, “Thank you for being such a gracious host. I will see you at the competition.”

Rosier rose and shook Severus’ hand.

“It was my pleasure, Severus. I will see you Friday,” Rosier replied, “It should prove an exciting night.”

“Indeed,” Severus agreed, departing.

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Panting heavily, Voltaire fell to the bed, exhausted and covered in sweat as Bellatrix shuddered next to him, lying face down, her ass still in the air. Her back had several long scratches from Voltaire’s nails and her ass was crimson from his beating.

The young wizard lay next to her, waiting for his heart to slow. Bella turned her face toward him and smiled, her gray eyes cloudy with pleasure.

“You are as strong as your father, and you are still young,” she said to him softly, “You please me, Voltaire.”

The wizard’s red eyes open and he looked at his aunt with his crimson eyes. His face snarled up.

“I am stronger than my father!” he hissed at her angrily.

”Yes…yes, Voltaire…you are,” Bella said soothingly.

“And you should be more concerned about pleasing me,” he said darkly, “I am the Dark Lord, not you.”

”Yes, Voltaire. Of course I want to please you. I do, don’t I?” Bella asked him softly.

“Yesssss,” he replied, “I like fucking you, aunt Bella.”

”Then we are good for each other,” the witch replied, “We will always be good for each other.”

Since drinking the elixir, Voltaire had become more volatile and demanding…more like Voldemort. After fucking Bellatrix the first few times and dominating her…he had more confidence, even demanding sex now.

He was more powerful as well, destroying boulders with an almost careless flick of his wand. He had also blown all of his “opponents” to bits that Bella provided for dueling practice. In addition, four house elves had been killed since his transformation, just because Voltaire felt like killing them. He no longer spoke to Bellatrix with the deference he used to. There were no "pleases" or "thank yous" in his vocabulary any longer. He was now her Lord as well.

Voltaire studied his aunt, his eyes looking at her bruised and battered body and he smirked at his handiwork. His father had nothing on him and he still had much to learn about brutalizing women. Bella promised him he would have any woman he wanted as long as he kept her first.

Voltaire nodded at this, but felt he didn’t have to keep anyone first. Not Bella…not anyone. But he was shrewd enough not to share his thoughts. His aunt was important now. She wouldn’t always be.

“When will I go to my Death Eaters?” he demanded, “I am tired of waiting. I am ready to assume my throne,” he snapped at the witch, who had rolled to her back, showing bitten breasts and belly.

“They are having the first competition Friday,” Bella replied, “I think it best we wait to strike until they have the final two. You will kill them both and claim the throne.”

“What about the others?” he hissed, his forked tongue flicking out.

Bella looked at him, her gray eyes narrowed now.

“The others? Are you afraid, Voltaire?” she asked, baiting him.

Voltaire stiffened when she asked him that, then suddenly slapped Bella hard in the mouth.

“I am not afraid! Of anyone! You forget yourself aunt Bella!” he screamed at her, rolling on top of her and straddling her belly, wrapping his hands around her throat and tightening his grip.

Bella grasped his wrists as she felt her air supply being cut off.

Voltaire choked her until she turned blue, then let go, panting angrily. Bella gasped, her heart pounding at his rage. He was beautiful…so much like his father, so cruel, so violent. She felt herself getting wet again as he frowned down at her, his crimson eyes glowing angrily.

“I’m…I’m sorry, Voltaire,” she rasped, “The others will be too stunned to challenge you. You look so much like your father. And if any dares to try to attack you, he or she will be cut down by me.”

“And Volaria?” he asked, his eyes still hard.

”After you assume the throne, we will find her…and kill her as well,” Bella assured him.

Voltaire stared down at his aunt, relaxing somewhat. But she had angered him and had to pay. His cock began to writhe and he shifted forward, sitting on her breasts.

“You know what to do now, aunt Bella,” he lisped, “Please me.”

“Yes, my Lord,” she replied, obediently opening her mouth.

He was so much like his father.

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Severus apparated back to his rooms at Hogwarts and sighed with relief as he looked around his familiar bedroom. He pulled out his wand and immediately divestoed his clothing. Naked, he strode into the bathroom, turned on the shower as hot as he could stand it, then entered, standing under the stream, his head lowered, letting the water wash over his hair, face and body as if it could cleanse him of all the blood he felt immersed in.

He stood there so long, the water began to cool, then he roused himself, grabbing his washcloth and soap before the shower went completely cold. He bathed, rinsed and exited the stall, grabbing a towel and drying off. Wrapping another towel around his waist, he opened his medicinal store, took out a bottle of replenishing potion and drank a bit down. He put the bottle back, brushed his teeth and exited the bathroom.

Now his thoughts turned to Hermione. He wasn’t sure if he should reveal he was back yet, though he was sure Albus knew he was. The wizard didn't know where they stood really, although Hermione had given herself to him before he left. It was a peace offering, but as of yet…no treaty had been made. He wondered how far she’d gotten with her project. Where there Voldemort-like pixies drifting about in her labs? And the young Riddle witch…he wondered if Hermione kept a tight rein on her. She better have.

Severus looked at the clock hanging on his bedroom wall. It was after ten. Hermione was most likely in her rooms babysitting Volaria. He frowned slightly. He could use some physical contact and emotional comfort from the witch. But more than likely she wouldn’t leave Volaria alone…and he knew instinctively Hermione wouldn’t let him into her bedroom with the girl there.

Severus sighed, removed his towel and climbed into bed, sliding under the sheets. He would see Hermione in the morning. His cock protested this decision.

“There’s nothing else for it,” the Potions Master breathed, closing his eyes.

The wizard was more exhausted than he thought. He fell instantly asleep.

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Hermione was indeed in her rooms, watching as Volaria climbed into bed, smiling.

“Professor Flitwick says I know the basics just fine and we’ll be able to start working on spells at our next session,” the young witch gushed, “I’m so excited!”

Hermione smiled at the young witch. She had started lessons with Professor Flitwick who tested her and gave her some additional study work. He found the witch very bright and enthusiastic. And he had absolute conniptions about Volaria’s wand.

“Amazing,” he breathed as he caressed it, “Two phoenix feathers! What a powerful, powerful wand. Beautiful crafting as well. You, my dear, must be quite gifted to have such a wand. We are going to bring your gifts out of you…never fear.”

Volaria had been overjoyed. True, Professor Flitwick was the smallest person she had ever seen, and at first she stared at him constantly…but the wizard showed her that he was big on knowledge and quite powerful himself. He’d be able to help her.

“That’s wonderful, Volaria,” Hermione said, “I want you to rest up and be ready for him tomorrow. All right?”

”Volaria nodded, snuggling down into her bed. She felt she would never sleep again.

Suddenly the flames in the floo turned green.

“Miss Granger?” Albus’ voice called out.

“Yes, I’m here, Headmaster,” Hermione answered him. Volaria sat up.

“I just wanted to let you know Severus has returned,” the old wizard said. He was sitting in his office, his blue eyes twinkling brightly.

“He has?” Hermione said surprised, “How long has he been back?”

“I believe he arrived around an hour and a half ago,” the wizard replied.

“Thank you for telling me, sir,” Hermione said, her brow furrowed.

“You’re very welcome, Miss Granger. Good night. And good night Miss Ruddle,” the Headmaster said.

Volaria smiled.

“Good night, Headmaster,” she piped, laying back down and drawing the covers over herself. She looked at Hermione, who wore a rather perplexed expression.

“What’s wrong?” Volaria asked the witch.

Hermione blinked at her as if she just realized Volaria was in the same room with her.

“Nothing,” Hermione said shortly.

Volaria knew better than that, but said nothing.

Hermione was wondering why Severus didn’t let her know he was back himself. Normally when he returned from a mission, he sought her out immediately, needing intimacy. But tonight he returned without saying anything. Was he still angry with her?

She had been busy while he was gone, but she still thought about him, wondering if he were safe, if he was able to deal with what was going on around him, and when he would return. Now he had returned and said nothing.

She looked at Volaria, then something clicked.

He probably didn’t come to her because the young witch was here.

Hermione hesitated then said, “Volaria, are you afraid to stay here by yourself tonight? I…I have something I need to do…I…I…need to check on something…” she began.

“You mean Professor Snape?” the witch asked her.

“Ah…yes. And I don’t know when I’ll be back or if I’ll be back,” Hermione admitted, looking nervous. She didn’t know if Volaria understood these things. But Volaria did.

“I’ll be fine. I’m used to sleeping by myself,” she said.

“Are you sure?” Hermione asked her.

“Positive,” Volaria replied, “I’m a big witch, Hermione. I don’t need a babysitter. I can spend the night in your rooms without you.”

Hermione gave her an appreciative smile.

“Thank you, Volaria,” she said, hurrying into her bedroom to slip her robes over her nightgown and grabbing her wand. She exited her bedroom and paused, looking at Volaria.

“Are you sure you’ll be all right?” she asked the witch once more.

Volaria gave her a little exasperated scowl.

“I’ll be fine, I promise,” she said, then yawned.

”All right. I may be back,” Hermione said, walking to the door, exiting and putting up a ward sealing Volaria in.

“I doubt that,” Volaria said to herself, yawning once more and rolling over.

She was quite bright for thirteen.

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A/N: Thanks for reading.