'Again, Severus,' ordered a cold, high voice which seemed to slice through the darkness like ice. Six hooded figures stood in the middle of what once might have been a handsome stone courtyard. The manor house behind them had crumbled with the passage of time. Ivy crept up every wall, threatening to strangle the delicate structure that remained. The only light trickled out from candles lit somewhere deep inside.

Snape raised his wand towards the outline of a woman who trembled at his feet. 'Crucio'.

She let out a terrible scream, so loud that it would be a wonder if every muggle for miles couldn't hear it. Snape remained impassive as she writhed desperately in agony beneath him. He could feel the Dark Lord's eyes watching him, hungry to see the obedience of his servant returned once again.

The other Death Eaters stood rooted to their spots, barely moving, barely breathing. Only did one figure, directly to Snape's right, seem to tremble beneath their cloak.

'Enough.' Snape obeyed. Voldemort turned his scarlet gaze to another masked man standing further down the line. 'Avery. You will finish it, I think. She is your flesh and blood.'

Avery did not move, did not breathe. Every eye in the courtyard was now fixated upon him and Voldemort, hungry for what was coming. But Snape did not miss the sudden jolt that ran through the figure to his right and realised for the first time that he did not recognise who stood beneath the hood.

'It is, of course, a terrible tragedy to have to waste such pure blood.' Voldemort's voice was simmering with enjoyment. 'But it is better, I think, to cleanse your family. And where you have lost one sister tonight, you have brought to me another.' His gaze flew to the figure beside Snape. 'Will it not be a blessing, Ivory, to be free of your blood traitor sibling?'

For the first time, the face underneath the hood rose and Snape felt the cold air seize inside his chest. She looked pale, deathly so, with straight long black hair and well defined eyebrows that framed her delicate face. She was beautiful, certainly, but such things had never moved him. It was the colour of her eyes, visible even in the darkness... Green. Not the same green, no, but similar enough... And something in them which did not belong there.

Her eyes flickered between her useless brother and Lord Voldemort. She trembled as she spoke. 'Y-yes m-my lord.' A twisted smile stretched across that lipless mouth.

'Come now, Avery. It is time,' hissed Voldemort, turning his attention back to the woman on the floor who seemed to be moaning less coherently now, but was no less in pain. For a fleeting moment, Snape thought he saw Ivory's hand move ever so slightly inside her robes, as though she were tightening her grip on something. 'This is not a moment to be weak. Do it!' Avery stumbled forwards.

Snape caught the tiniest flutter of robes move beside him.

'Do it now!'

Avery parted his lips.

Two wands were pulled at once.

'No,' breathed Snape.

'Avada Kedavra!'

There was a flash of green. A scream of pain. A gasp as Snape sunk his fingers deep into Ivory's wrist.

'She's dead,' he whispered, pulling her wand arm down and releasing it almost instantly. He dare not even look at her. The second he had done it, he had known it was foolish.

Avery shook from head to toe, his wand still pointed at the now lifeless body of their sister on the ground.

'Excellent,' Voldemort spat, clearly appeased. 'We are done for tonight.'

All around them, there was the sudden sound of their fellow Death Eaters disapparating. None spared a second glance at the corpse which would be left there to rot. Avery closed the short distance between himself and his only living sister. He grabbed her hard by the arm and turned with her on the spot.

Snape stared at the place where she had vanished. So young, he thought, to suffer as she will suffer. He waited until he was the last remaining soul in the courtyard. Briefly, he considered disposing of the body. But thought better of it. Risks were only worth taking for the living.

Alone in his office, Snape stared at the stone pensive resting ominously on the desk before him. It was late and most of the castle would be asleep by now but it was a long time since sleep had brought him any kind of relief. It was less than two days until his first occlumency lesson with Potter and he was trying to decide which memories he might have to safeguard against the boy. He could only imagine Potter's joy at watching his rancid father... No... Not tonight. He would not visit those thoughts tonight. But somehow his mind drifted to Lily, as it so often did, and then from Lily to the green eyed girl in the courtyard.

Deciding that he could not face it, he picked up the pensive and placed it back in the cupboard, replacing it with a block of wood which held many small glass vials of potions. Each had a student's name magically engraved on the front with varying levels of skill. As he popped the cork from each one, smelled it, tasted it and marked it, he allowed his mind to wonder. He had not known about Avery's second sister. Why had she been there at all? If she had truly become a follower, the Dark Lord would have told him. Perhaps it was simply a further punishment for Avery, for allowing Lila to feed information to the Order.

He pulled his head back violently from a putrid smelling vial. It belonged to Neville Longbottom, of course. He had clearly used bat wing instead of spleen. Snape felt frustration burn up inside him. How difficult was it to follow simple instructions? He hated laziness but he hated ignorance even more.

He pulled the next vial up to his nose and was relieved when it did not make him gag. Many things about the night's events disturbed him. Why had that stupid girl reached for her wand? Had she truly thought she could stop the dark lord from killing? Had his intervention gone unnoticed? There were many who would gladly do anything to knock him out of favour. He laid the last vial down on the table and leant back in his chair, closing his eyes.

And why, he thought, why above all else could I not bring myself to tell the night's events to Albus Dumbledore?

–

It was a small house, old with high ceilings that made it feel larger than it was. The cluttered living room was littered with old robes and books and junk which no one had bothered to organise or throw away.

Ivory threw an armful of clothes desperately into her trunk. Tears were streaming down her face for the first time in years but she was not ashamed. Her brother, who had been trying to calm her, now resulted to grabbing her by both her arms to try and root her in place.

'Where will you go?' he snapped, putting his face only inches from hers. 'There's no use in running now!'

'He knows!' cried Ivory. 'That's why he told you to bring me tonight. What choice do I have? I have to go. I could... I could go back to Durmstrang.' He released her as though afraid she were insane.

'They'd never take you back after what happened.'

And as he said it, she knew it was true. 'Then I'll go abroad. Anywhere he can't find me.' She resumed her frantic throwing of items into the trunk.

'There is nowhere he can't find you. Listen to me. LISTEN TO ME!' He reached out to grab her again but as his fingers grazed her arm there was a flash of red light which exploded through the room and Avery was slammed with a sickening thud against the far wall.

Ivory winced, but she did not go to him. Instead, she watched as he slumped pathetically down to the ground. When she met his eyes, she did not bother to hide her disdain.

A long silence passed between them, filled with the scars of a family which would never heal, an act so terrible it had torn them apart. 'He would have killed us both,' Avery wheezed finally.

Ivory slammed the lid of her trunk shut and stared into the face of her brother. She had not thought it possible to hate someone so much when once you had loved them.

'Then you should have died'.