Vows

I'm thrilled and honoured that Care of Magical Creatures has been nominated for four The New Library Awards:

Amortentia: Best SS/HG Romance

Gripping Charm: Best SS/HG Drama

Diffindo: Best SS/HG Angst

Engorgio: Best SS/HG WIP

I have also been nominated Best New Author.

More info about voting and a fabulous list of nominated fics in all sorts of ships and genres here:

http://community.livejournal.com/tnl_awards/4104.html

My deepest regards to JK Rowling, who created it all and added the magic.

My deepest thanks to GinnyW and Juno Magic for their beta work on this chapter.

55. VOWS

Power.

It surged through him at the moment his lips touched the Dark Lord's hand.

Dizzying power.

It spiralled through him in an ever-widening coil until it vibrated from the soles of his feet to his scalp, from his fingertips to his eyelids.

Power.

Never in his life, not even as a helpless, angry child, had he dared hope for such as this.

He realised he was still kneeling but could not let the Dark Lord see his face, see into his eyes, because this thrill of knowledge was something he wasn't ready to share.

He rose slowly, mind racing, and found himself staring across...

Straight into Lucius's eyes.

Knowing that Lucius trembled with envy.

Severus allowed his mouth to twist into a semblance of a smile.

Finally, he turned his face to that of...no, not his father...he couldn't think of him as anything but the Dark Lord...and lowered his eyes in submission.

A rustle of silk drew his attention and suddenly he found a gleaming blonde head bowed before him. Robes of shimmering pearl silk billowed around Narcissa as she curtseyed. She raised her icy blue eyes to him and smiled. In that moment, she appeared almost warm with her regard. "Severus. Our home is your home as long as you should choose to grace us with your presence."

Severus brought his hands together in three slow claps. "Well played, Cissy," he said softly, then held out a hand to her and raised her from the floor.

She raised her chin with pride. Slytherin to the core.

"But I regret to say..." he began.

"You fool!" Bellatrix sneered, her rage crackling from her pores. "You stupid fool! He is your Dark Lord," she hissed, jerking her head toward Lord Voldemort, "and you dare insult him by bowing to Snape? By offering him..."

"Nothing he doesn't already have," Cissy snapped back. "Our hospitality."

"Are you also ready to burn your fine linens after he ruts his filthy little Mudblood in your bed?"

Severus rose to his full height in fury, even as he felt the wave of approval that rippled through the Death Eaters at Bella's words.

They hated his position. They hated his wife. They hated him.

But before he could react, the Dark Lord placed a soothing hand on Bella's shoulder.

"Bella, my sweet," he said, his voice almost a purr. "Is this truly the day on which you choose to die?"

Silence.

Bella's face froze in a rictus of horror as she stared at her beloved Lord.

He removed his hand from her shoulder and wiped it carefully on his handkerchief.

"My Lord!" She burst into tears and flung herself at his feet.

He stared down at her for a long, tense moment, then raised his face to Severus and... waited.

It took Severus longer than most present to recognise the moment for what it was. He heard the distant murmuring, a mere rustling amongst those behind him, but shocked and fearful.

His gaze glued to those pulsing red eyes before him he slowly realised.

The Dark Lord was waiting.

Waiting for him.

For him to decide.

Severus lowered his eyes to the prostrate woman in black sobbing at her master's feet.

He held her life in his hand.

Something cold and delicious and dark surged within him.

Power.

XX

Hermione sat in the window seat of her grandmother's bedroom...the bedroom she'd moved to when Grandfather Granger had died...and stared through a crack in the curtains.

She was careful not to move it, not even to give herself a wider view.

So careful not to reveal her presence.

She felt oddly light-headed. How she could feel stronger and yet light-headed... it was odd.

Maybe she wasn't eating enough.

She was sure she wasn't eating enough.

Maybe that's why it was so difficult to focus on the words....

She'd written seven feet of parchment, and then, the words just faded from her mind....

Maybe she would sleep here tonight. In her grandmother's bed.

Or maybe tomorrow.

She stared through the crack in the curtains and saw a corner of the manicured garden. Not even her favorite corner, not even the Elizabethan knot garden.

She'd like to show the knot garden to him.

Would he scoff at it?

Oh, she was most certain he would.

And the very thought of him scoffing at it made him feel more real to her and gave her...perhaps...the slightest surge of awareness that he was still there, still with her somehow.

She would show him the garden someday. She would. They would have a someday.

She pushed away from the seat and headed restlessly back to her hiding place.

She knew which words she needed to write.

XX

Severus glanced from the Dark Lord's burning red eyes to Bellatrix. Drowning in a pool of black at the Dark Lord's feet, she didn't even see that her fate dangled from her enemy's fingertips.

"My Lord," Severus said, his voice silky with disdain, "we have more important issues at hand."

He stepped around her prone figure and, with a smirk, allowed the Dark Lord to take the lead as they left her quivering on the floor in her fear.

Not until the door closed behind him did Severus hear the ballroom burst into a roar of reaction.

Fucking hell, he hadn't even been allowed to have a reaction, yet.

And he could not allow himself that luxury now.

In the adjoining parlour a formal table had been set for five.

"You might later regret not killing Bella while you had the chance," the Dark Lord said conversationally.

"Please. Not on her sister's ballroom floor."

Behind them, the noise of raised voices swelled and then lowered again as Lucius and Narcissa joined them.

Narcissa flicked her wand and one place setting disappeared.

The Dark Lord took his place at the head of the table.

Narcissa approached the opposite chair, claiming her position as hostess.

The Dark Lord raised his hand. "I prefer to be alone with Severus."

"Of course," she murmured, bowing her head slightly as she backed away. She exchanged a quick emotionless glance with Lucius. Another flick of the wand and only two place settings remained.

Severus watched them walk to a door on the opposite wall. Clearly they would not want to reenter the ballroom and reveal their absence from the planning table.

Lucius paused in the doorway, his eyes narrowed as he considered his next move. Finally, he spoke. "My Lord, if I might..."

The Dark Lord nodded.

Lucius met Severus's eyes. "Potter is being... contained. He and the blood traitor attempted to sneak away from the castle yesterday in some sort of heroic," his voice sneered the word, "attempt to rescue the M... Madam Snape."

"Potter. Always the fucking hero." Severus gave a sharp nod of thanks and then turned back to the table, wondering how the hell any conversation they had could be private in the Malfoys' domain.

Finally, he took his seat, raised his wine glass...suddenly filled with deep red wine...in a mock toast and said, "I hope you don't expect me to call you Father."

The red eyes bored into him but he refused to waver. He drank deeply and immediately regretted it, but would not show even that much weakness. He lowered the glass, still meeting the Dark Lord's gaze.

"Is this a show of hostility or some belated adolessscent rebellion?" the Dark Lord queried as he tapped his bowl with a spoon and it filled with consommé.

Severus matched his action and his tone. "I have the same respect, loyalty and affection for you that I had prior to your rather dramatic revelation," Severus said, his voice calculating and cool. "I see no need to fake nor foster anything further. It's not as if you've been pining for a son's love."

"Indeed." The Dark Lord's smile was slow and as genuine as one could ever hope to see, considering the source. "Indeed. It was rather dramatic, wasn't it?" He clearly was pleased.

"But not well received."

"Ah, Severus, do you fear they'll think you haven't earned my favour? That the only reason I honour you is because of our... blood connection?"

"Am I supposed to care?" he sneered.

"Good." The Dark Lord gave an elegant shrug. "Besides, what they think will make no difference by the time we all leave here this night."

Severus stared at the soup in his bowl with absolutely no desire to taste it. He finally placed his spoon across the edge at a diagonal and watched it disappear. He had no appetite at all, and to pretend the Dark Lord had one seemed ludicrous. "Must we stay?"

"We must. I realize you might not like this venue tonight, but there are things that must be done before any who are here are allowed to leave. If you're worried about anyone overhearing..." The Dark Lord gave a graceful twirl of his hand and the sudden silence felt physical as well as audial. "We are in complete privacy. Now, tell me more about your Gryffindor bride. Hermione is her name?"

Severus froze when he heard her name hissed from between the Dark Lord's lips.

"You don't mind that I use her name, I hope?"

"That is entirely up to her," Severus snapped.

"I'm relieved to see that you're feeling better, my boy. But do not take my good nature for granted. It would not end well for any of us."

"My apologies, my Lord. I'm a little off balance still."

"Of course you are." The Dark Lord leaned back in his chair and examined Severus through narrowed eyes. "My life would be simpler if I could just kill you and be done with it, but alas, I do care for you, my boy, and I do have my own uses for you and your... Hermione."

This time the use of her name was deliberate and pointed.

This time Severus didn't react. He raised his goblet in a toast that held no mockery. "To your success, my Lord."

"And your future," the Dark Lord returned with a tight smile.

"Which I hope begins as soon as possible." Severus pushed the glass away and leaned forward on the table. "I want to send for Potter immediately. They won't be expecting it, and they won't be ready, even if they are suspicious, and they won't be."

"Why wouldn't they be?"

"Because they have alienated Potter. You heard what Lucius said. My message will be to Potter. I'll tell him I've rescued her and need her taken to safety."

"But if they have him restrained..."

"Nobody can restrain Potter." Severus allowed a sneering smile to curl his lips. "He'll come."

"And how will you get a message to him?"

"By Patronus. By Miss Granger's Patronus."

"How...?"

"I believe I saw Salina Nott in the ballroom?" At the Dark Lord's nod, he continued. "I recall from our Defense Against the Dark Arts class when we were in school together... her Patronus was an otter."

He took a slow breath and pushed for the kill.

"We must act tonight."

"That is impossible."

The fist that had been clenched around his gut now gave an angry twist. "But my Lord, the sooner we act, the greater our chances of a quick victory." And the more likely their ability to end everything before Miss Granger was discovered or decided to reveal herself.

Safe. He had to keep her safe.

He took a deep breath and felt the Dark Lord's eyes drilling into him. "All Albus has at hand are a ragtag group of elderly, of students, of witches who haven't held a wand in battle in decades, if ever. Teachers whose experience is theoretical and a handful of Aurors. Yet they have a sense of passion on their side and a misguided sense of justice that will empower them if you give them any chance at all to assemble and prepare. We must strike fast and hard and..." He paused and met the Dark Lord's eyes with chilling intensity. "Potter must die."

The Dark Lord continued to study him. Finally he nodded. "I am pleased and relieved to see that you remain as ruthless as ever."

"Relieved?" Severus asked, unnerved. "You had doubts?"

"Not doubts. So much makes sense, now. Of course you couldn't kill her. You couldn't kill a piece of your own soul. But it has not gone without my notice that when you stumbled, when you lacked the ability to be ruthless..."

Severus waited for him to continue, unable to breathe.

"Your bride was ruthless for you."

His lungs emptied in a rush.

"Ah, yes, she continues to amaze me, despite her blood status. Ruthless, the witch was ruthless. She drugged you, Severus, you! Who else breathing could manage that feat? She abused your trust and drugged you and then broke her wand and abandoned you...I can only stand back and be dazzled." He grew thoughtful. "And anticipate the splendid children you will have."

The icy fist twisted and wrung until he feared for his ability to stay seated at the table. "Might I point out, my Lord, that in this respect you're beginning to sound like the fucking Ministry, treating us as brood stock?"

The Dark Lord chuckled. "Allow me my daydreams and plans, Severus. For the first time they are beginning to be of dynasty, and I find that concept strangely to my liking. "

"My Lord. The Death Eaters will not. When I no longer have your protection," he said delicately, "they won't accept me, and they certainly won't accept any children I might have with a Muggle-born wife."

"Your children...my heirs...will be born of a soul connection of immense power, to a wizard and witch of immense power. This is an unexpected boon, something I never planned for, and yet the very fact that you have made such a connection at a time when my power is about to manifest itself fully...does this not speak of destiny?"

This time the Dark Lord's smirk was an out and out leer. "And as for my followers accepting you and such offspring as my heirs...they have to, Severusss. It is my wish, and they have no choice."

"But... my Lord." He felt himself on very shaky ground but the obvious had to be said. "They wouldn't dare reject me now, and not while you live. By that unhappy time when they would have to accept me, you will no longer be with us."

"Which is why, my son..."

Son.

"...all my faithful servants are gathered here tonight."

The Dark Lord rose to his feet and offered his hand.

"Tonight, they make their oath to you."

"To me?" His mind raced. "What oath?"

"You need ask?" The Dark Lord was clearly amused...and also experiencing some other emotional state that Severus preferred not to consider. Finally, when Severus didn't respond, the Dark Lord said, "Voluptas Voluntasque."

"But that's..."

"Appropriate. While I live, of course, their oath to me is primary, which should be for longer than anyone dreams... But when I am gone, their allegiance will transfer to my heirs. They will have no choice."

"Perhaps," Severus said, his throat tight and mouth dry, "I should change into something more... worthy."

He didn't wait for permission.

He walked quickly to the family wing, to his chambers, and to the toilet where he lost the little that his stomach contained.

And then heaved more.

XX

The words poured out of her, so fast, so heated, she had a smear of red on her arm where she'd dragged across the page in her haste to dip her quill.

Even that didn't slow her.

Now her hair was in her eyes, on the page, in her mouth, and still the words poured in a torrent, and she felt blessed release as she raced forward...

My dearest Professor...

You'll probably never see this because I will probably never give it to you, because I'm sure you're...

Oh, god.

You're raging at me for being a fool, for breaking my wand, for running away, for all the things that made so much sense at the time and now...

What else was I to do?

Wait until you were summoned to the Dark Lord and never returned to me?

I'm sorry, but that was not an option.

But now I'm sitting here alone, not knowing, and have nothing but time and darkness to second guess and...

And then I think of the state I was in when I wrote the last letter to you and can see you sneering in disgust that I was soppy and...

So we're back to Professor because maybe I'm just not soppy enough or desperate enough to put into words the things I'd like to say to you, to call you my dearly...

She fiercely scratched out the word dearly but kept writing, the quill flying across the page....

But you see, writing to you is like having you here and I need you here, because knowing you're angry at me and sneering at me makes me feel like I can see you and hear you and touch you.

And smell you.

And taste you.

She closed her eyes for a brief moment and felt her mouth suffuse with moisture and memory....

I need you.

I'm crying again.

God, I hate the crying.

I have work to do. So much work.

Did I tell you that my magic isn't working?

Her quill quivered on the page, and...once again...she scratched out what she'd written, and took a deep breath, and put the parchment aside.

She didn't want him to worry about her.

She needed him fierce and angry, even if it was aimed at her.

She needed his strength.

She closed her eyes and, hands trembling, drew in deep gulps of air.

She had to set the record straight. If she didn't do it, who would?

She pulled the next blank parchment toward her and began writing, and this time, her hand was steady and her resolve strong.

If you ever see this letter, know that this letter is for me, not you.

If you never see it, you'll never know what I see when I look at you, will you? You'll never know that while others may see the mistakes you have made, the sneer and the rage...that when I look at you, I see everything I could ever honour and respect and love in a man.

Know that if I lived a thousand years, I would never find a more worthy husband.

Know that I love you.

Know that I adore you.

Know that I am yours.

XX

He couldn't get it out of his mind.

He remembered finding her in the Room of Requirement, weeping because she thought he was rejecting her.

Rejecting her.

"I thought you were here to take me home."

Seeing her so broken had broken him, had torn his heart wide open.

He had shoved her away because he reeked of Dark magic and Dark pleasure and didn't dare let her near him...

And she'd thought he didn't want her.

Now they whirled around him, these Dark choices he'd made so long ago. They continued to drag him down deeper, deeper, down to depths where not even the bright shining light that was his Miss Granger could reach.

He had wallowed in the filth.

He had accepted the putrid.

And now, he would be the source.

Voluptas Voluntasque.

He would do it, he would do it willingly and eagerly because the Dark Lord was right; through this bond no Death Eater would be able to attack him or anything that was his.

Through this bond he could keep her safe.

He pushed up from the marble floor and stripped until he could stand in the hot shower and attempt to wash away three days' filth. When he re-entered his bedchamber, he found a fresh set of black robes waiting for him.

When he rejoined the Dark Lord, he was ready.

No words needed to be spoken between them. He followed into the ballroom and felt the tension in the room rise even as all present sank to the floor.

The tension rose, and he drank it in, their tension, their anger, their fear. Drank it in like a narcotic, for it would buffer him and fuel him through what was coming.

It would feed his power.

The Dark Lord uttered one word.

"Rise."

And when all were at attention, he smiled and spread his hands wide in benediction. "On this night, you will all have the honour of pleasing me. You will accept my wisdom in all matters. You will please me, my children. This is the night which will begin the end of the Wizarding world as we know it, for after the actions of this night, we will surge forward in strength and righteousness to finally defeat those forces who futilely plot against me."

Throughout the ballroom, eyes glittered with anticipation. This was what all had been waiting for, and finally, it was happening.

"Tonight," the Dark Lord continued, "we usher in my Dark Dynasty, because tonight, you will expand your forsworn allegiance to include my son."

The stiffening, the unease, the awareness, was subtle but evident. Faces, on this night without masks, betrayed anger, envy and even lascivious anticipation.

"Tonight," the Dark Lord announced, "you will make your Voluptas Voluntasque to my most loyal and faithful servant. My son. My heir."

"No!"

The scream was harsh, strident, and unmistakably Bella.

"My Lord! I accept any punishment you choose, but you must listen to me! You can't trust him!" Tears welled in her still-beautiful, always-mad eyes. "He will betray you! He and his Mudblood will betray you! Please, my Lord, don't do this, don't make us do this..." She broke off in a ragged sob and finally, begging so softly only those few near her could hear, "Please don't make me do this...."

"Bella, you have one opportunity to please me in this way. If you don't take it..." The Dark Lord turned his attention to Severus and waited.

"She dies," Severus responded.

The Dark Lord extended his hand tenderly. "Bellatrix."

The anguish in her eyes as she looked at him pierced Severus to the core. Mad, beautiful and...and certain.

She did not take the Dark Lord's hand.

She faced Severus and he knew. She was not going to submit. He knew he was about to kill her, this woman he had once...

"You think you've won, Snape," she hissed, "but you haven't. This doesn't end here. I can't kill you here. But Snape, I will find your Mudblood and she will die!" Her laughter was wild and cackling and would be recalled in many a nightmare. "Snape, you talk in your sleep!"

And with a loud crack, she was gone.

Severus lunged forward to fling a curse at empty air.

The Dark Lord roared, "How did this happen?" He turned on Lucius and raised his hand to smite, and demanded, "You said the Manor was secured, that no one could leave until you drop the wards!"

Lucius was as pale as his platinum hair as he stammered, "I set the wards myself. No one could..."

"My Lord...oh, my Lord, we didn't..." Narcissa babbled. "Bella is family.... The new wards wouldn't have affected her." She covered her mouth with and elegant hand, her horror and fear written on her features.

"She has to be stopped," Severus snapped. "I have to..."

"You will go nowhere and do nothing but what you must do here tonight," the Dark Lord responded.

Severus froze.

"However, you may send a deputy. You may send someone in your stead to track her."

Someone who is not yet bound to me?

"Who do you trust, Severus?" The Dark Lord smiled, and it was clear that this was as much a test as any other time the Dark Lord had toyed with him.

Who did he trust?

He would laugh if he weren't afraid he'd scream.

There was only one answer.

"Lucius. Stop her."

Narcissa and Lucius both stiffened. The glance they exchanged was nothing if not calculated. Lucius's mouth quirked in a smirk. "It will be my honour, Severus."

And with another crack, he was gone.

You talk in your sleep.

What had he said? What in fucking hell had he said?

A rustle of fabric, movement from the corner off his eye, whispers and murmurs....

He felt eyes on him, so many eyes, but most specifically he felt glowing red eyes watching him and judging.

He stepped to the front of the dais. He had to act. He had to...he had to proceed.

The Dark Lord handed him his wand.

He stared at it in his hand, felt the coiling surge of Darkness tingle through him.

The power.

And raised his face to see who would be the first to step forward.

Narcissa.

Of course, it would be Narcissa.

He wondered what devious way the Malfoys had already devised to subvert the bond.

He wondered what madness had possessed him to send Lucius.

Salina Nott and her sister joined Narcissa, aligned just behind her, braced and ready.

Narcissa offered her bare forearms and spoke the words, her voice smooth and strong. "Per voluptatem meam in voluntate tua ego Narcissa serva sum." Her pupils darkened, her lips parted moistly, and she drew in a shuddering breath of anticipation.

And because he knew what was expected of him, and knew the power he wielded...

He turned his voice to silk and murmured in her ear, "Per voluptatem tuam in voluntate mea te quam servam meam vincio."

He pressed the tip of the Dark Lord's wand into the Dark Mark on the soft flesh of her arm...

Felt the power surge through him...Merlin, the power, pure power. The candles glowed brighter; the colours were more vivid; the tingling danced through his body in a surge so strong he felt it could lift him off the floor...

And he watched as she fell backward and was caught by her friends, who eased her to the floor where she writhed in a paroxysm of ecstasy, her sighs and whimpers filling the silent room.

He tore his eyes away from her.

Away from excruciating images of twisted limbs in red sheets and soft whimpers and...

He turned back to the red glowing eyes. The thin smile. He knew. Of course he knew what new strength coursed through Severus's body and almost turned him inside out with a pulsing awareness of its force.

And then he turned to the faces, some expectant and some resentful but all obediently waiting...

Waiting for him.

~0~0~0~0~

A/N My utmost thanks to Juno Magic who (as she has so generously done before) provided me with the Latin:

"Voluptas Voluntasque" - Lust and Will

"Per voluptatem meam in voluntate tua ego Narcissa serva sum." - Through lust bound by will, I, Narcissa, am a slave.

"Per voluptatem tuam in voluntate mea te quam servam meam vincio." - Through your lust within my will I bind you as my slave.

This oath is first mentioned in Chapter 27, Gifted, and again in Chapter 42, Lost, then Found.