Velvet and Untrue
You give me substance
You give me cold hands
Our love is just more than just alone
And when you want me
Everything should be
Only for our wicked ebony
You always said to me
That it's dark in your heart
And I should believe
That you won't be here for years
What I want is impossible to be
You will deny me once in a while
It's velvet but it's untrue
You give me my lust
And you are my frost
I hate what you do but can't resist
To your sweet charming
And always harming
Cold little embrace
It's what I need
You always said to me
That it's dark in your heart
And I should believe
That you won't be here for years
What I want is impossible to be
You will deny me once in a while
It's velvet but it's untrue
You give me cold hands
You give me a sweet dread
I'm sure I miss you
You always said to me
That it's dark in your heart
And I should believe
That you won't be here for years
What I want is impossible to be
You will deny me once in a while
It's velvet but it's untrue
My velvet little darkness – Lacrimas Profundere
The summer after the Hogwarts attack brought with it unusually warm, dry weather. Students travelled home with the knowledge that they may never again return to their school and from that moment on their lives would be changing for better, or for worse. As could be expected, the daily prophet relentlessly heralded news of murders, torture and other such terrible happenings. Whole families were targeted and destroyed (often for no beneficial reason at all) by the death eaters and (which was even more terrifying) Voldemort had begun to personally accompany them on an increasing occurrence. Dumbledore's death had acted as a key, which had unlocked the one and only gate restricting Voldemort from doing as he pleased. He no longer feared a living soul, which inflated his already heightened sense of power.
Somewhere in the darkness a man awoke and instinctively clutched his left forearm in an attempt to ease the stabbing pain. As it slowly began to recede, he propped himself onto his elbows allowing his dark curtain of hair to fall forward and cover his face. Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead as he swung his pale legs off the bed and hastily pulled on his robes. It was an unforgiving hot summers night without a breath of wind, and the last thing Severus Snape desired was to run off on a mission, but the dark Lord had called him and he was obliged to answer.
The meeting place for that night was a withered garden with patchy yellowing grass and a broken birdbath nearby. Expecting to take his place in the full circle, Snape was surprised to find himself alone except for 4 others. He hastily took his place and stood stock still, his long dark robes unmoving.
"I have called you here tonight," started the familiar cold, ruthless voice "on a mission of particular importance. As you may well have noticed, our friendship circle is not as…large as usual" he sneered menacingly. "This is because you are my most capable followers. You should be eternally proud that I have chosen you to do my bidding."
"We are not worthy Lord," they chorused bowing low to the pale, hooded figure in the centre. Snape's dark eyes fell on the death eater standing directly opposite, whom he knew to be Bellatrix Lestrange and who wore a smile of pure triumph upon her wicked face. A muggy silence fell and, for a few minutes, all that could be heard was the distant sound of running water.
"Lucius and Narcissa," Voldemort snapped, "you must capture Octavia Turner. Return her to me alive." They each bowed and within seconds were gone in a flurry of silver hair and expensive robes. "Bellatrix," he barked, "interrogate the Burns' for me. There is no need to return them alive." Bellatrix bowed so low, Snape was sure she was about to fall over and had to restrain himself from laughing at her dog like obedience. Voldemort seemed to sense this, as the second Bellatrix had disapparated he walked over to face Snape, removing his mask with a lazy flick of his wand. "And you, Severus" his crimson eyes bore into Snape's, but as always were met by a defensive mental wall. "Still with the occlumency. No matter. You are, as of today in charge of a hostage." Snape knew he had been able to answer back without consequence of the cruciatus ever since the night he murdered Dumbledore, and he relished this fact.
"What sort of a hostage, my Lord?" he asked silkily.
"She is 18 and the only child of a Ministry official. There is a good chance that she could provide us with the means to extract information from her mother. We both know how defensive mothers can be." He finished coldly, emphasising the point.
"And where is she?" Snape asked, his mouth dry.
"Already at your living arrangements. She is to live with you, but never leave or make contact with the outside world. I have entrusted her to you and you alone, but don't worry," he added with an icy laugh "you are experienced in taking care of children. Until our next meeting."
"My lord" Snape said, bowing. There he stood for a long while after Voldemort had disapparated, simply unable to move from the spot. Although the early morning air was hot and stuffy (even more so than the night's) he found himself shivering in the wake of his task. Silently, Snape turned in mid air and disapparated, his dark robes billowing for a moment before the garden became still and empty once more.
I know this chapter was extremely short, but I wanted to use it as a sort of pilot to see what you all think of the plot. Please review if you think its worth carrying on with or not, but it might be a while before I update again because I have A levels next week which is lame. More reviews will speed up my writing process!! Cough cough hint hint