The coppery tang of coagulated blood perfumed the air of the cavern. A sunlit opening high above highlighted the puddles of fresh, deep reds and faded browns decorating the floor. A cement slab played host to a supine male form bound at wrist and ankle, only a shredded brown tea towel covering where his sex should be. His eyes remained closed.
Stale sweat crusted the man's translucent skin, head to toe; flakes of yellow and scabs with oozing puss. Long, lank graying hair was a riot of snarls that nearly covered his distinguished hook nose and thin, blue, chapped lips.
Malnourished and near death, Severus Snape was no longer the feared "Dungeon Bat," he was merely a traitor now.
A small whisper of sound heralded the arrival of a dark, hooded figure. Slender white fingers smoothed back the hood over a bald scalp to reveal a man most feared. A man who still wasn't quite flesh and blood. Ruby eyes roved over the diseased form of his former Potions Master with glee. "I smell your death," Voldemort hissed as he glided closer to the cement slab. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes in ecstasy; he moaned as he dipped his skeletal finger in Snape's latest batch of congealed blood and brought it to his mouth to lick like a custard.
Voldemort giggled. "You're delicious. The next feeding is nigh. Oh, look, Traitor! Here it comes now."
As if on cue, a Hippogriff appeared from the opening above, feathered wings making the necessary adjustments to land carefully within the cavern and closest to the sacrificial offering. The Dark Lord bowed to the newcomer, waited for a return bow from the sentient beast, and then came forth to put his hands above Snape's upper right side; a golden glow emanated, drawing the sharp beaked animal closer. It snorted, nodding its plumed head before piercing the glowing area with its' dagger of a nib.
Voldemort stepped back to watch the Hippogriff rip flesh, dive through arteries, veins, and muscles to get at poor Snape's liver. Squishing sounds made the Dark Lord shudder with anticipation.
"Oh! Dear me," he mocked. "How could I forget my favorite part?" Withdrawing the length of elder wood that had once belonged to Dumblebore, asLord Voldemort called him, he whispered, "Ennervate! You worthless piece of traitor filth!"
Immediately, the bruised eyes of the motionless man before him flew open and then began to fill with tears; he blinked rapidly. A keening squeal issued forth from the back of Snape's throat through his nose as the Hippogriff continued stabbing its beak into his side. Yet his body remained still due to the Immobulus spell. Voldemort clapped his hands in glee as he danced in circles, insanity riding high in his carefree laughter.
A last soft 'plop' dislodged the liver of Severus Snape onto the floor in a small pool of fresh blood. The Hippogriff let out a triumphant shriek and dove to sup on the organ.
"Excellent!" Voldemort clapped again, a sharp-toothed smile growing on his face. "Oh dear Severus," he mocked again, "You live another day yet," as he replaced the missing organ and healed all else within his captive's body. "I'm so glad that we have this daily chat. Bella especially loves when I return to her, full of lust. Did I ever thank you for your cock? Quite handy, that." Casually, he stepped back from the cement slab, checking his handiwork.
Voldemort palmed his wand and hissed,"Obliviate!"