A/N~ Purely indulgent, very late Valentine's Day fic. A bit ooc, fresh off the press, needed it out of my head kind of writing. It didn't turn into what I wanted it to, but the beginning was something I've wanted to write for a long time. The end is my indulgence. Just short of 5000 words.
This is also a promise of something bigger to come. I have a new full-length in the works, coming your way just as soon as I finish doctoring it up. Maybe another month or so. Look out for it, and I hope you enjoy this in the meanwhile.
Severus strode through the halls of the Ministry with thunder emanating from his boots. Whether it was the silence of the impending punishment he had in store, or rage leaking through his body and his wand, none could say.
Anyone who caught his eye quickly averted theirs.
He was a ghastly sight now. When he'd decided he'd had use of him again, the Dark Lord took little pity on the marks Nagini had left on his neck besides a crude healing spell and an anti-venom potion. The scars clung to his pale flesh in red agony, as though he was being swallowed whole by a small, angry kraken.
Knuckles white on his wand, he pushed open the doors to the grand court room which once housed the great Wizengamot. Several members still inhabited the space due to their loyalties, but most were gone.
It seemed everything once was something else, but now stood in a blackened shadow of its past. There was no Minister for Magic anymore, only Severus who was second to the Dark Lord. Everyone was supposed to be free when the job was done, but nothing had gone to plan, not even the so called freedom this side had offered the pureblood community.
In cases like this, where one of Potter's allies was caught and brought to be interrogated, he would torture them quickly and leave little else to say, snagging any important memories they might have along the way. This assured that if the Dark Lord got ahold of them or their mind, he wouldn't find anything. He'd obliviate them of this happening too, to cover his own tracks and keep his own life. How he continued to get away with it was nothing short of a miracle.
Severus didn't believe in miracles, not anymore. Potter was dead, he'd gone through all those years of trouble for nothing, and Tom Riddle managed to be seated upon his throne of domination, having just taken the final most parts of Britain, Scotland, and Ireland all for his own. The muggles were blissfully unaware the war was magical, but the Prime Minister was not so keen that things weren't being kept under control.
His head ached as he looked up at his next victim, having briefly forgotten just exactly how honored those here were to be witnessing this.
Hermione Granger had gone and got herself snatched.
All of his earlier rage filled him again, and before anyone could say a thing, he'd banished the snatchers and left naught but the dementors and select Death Eaters to watch. She was arguably the most important player in the war now, so what did she think she was doing being so careless?
Granger looked older since he'd last seen anything of her and more like a warrior than ever before. There wasn't any of that childlike thirst in her eyes, just pure exhaustion. She was faking the fierceness. Her composure on the other hand, the challenging position of her clenched jaw, that seemed real.
"Get out," he muttered under his breath, knowing the remaining guests were listening.
At first, no one moved. They were all attempting to find who exactly it was he was talking to completely disrespecting of the fact that he was addressing them all.
Turning, they seemed to understand at the fury in his eyes, and his final word of command, "Out!"
Occasionally it paid to be second in command to that snake. Scrambling, the room was empty as it could get with dementors around, but they didn't share secrets. Besides, all they fed on was happiness, and he certainly didn't have any to spare, nor did he think Granger would either.
