Her Eyes
"I have a problem, Severus."
The unsettling words slid from the snake-like lips of his master, cowing Severus Snape into confusion.
"My Lord?" he asked tentatively.
"Why doesn't it work for me, Severus?" Lord Voldemort raised the Elder Wand in indication.
"My—My Lord?" Snape's fear was palpable, tainting the air around him. "You have performed extraordinary magic with that wand."
"No." Voldemort's denial was swift and concise. "I have performed my usual magic. I am extraordinary, but this wand…"
The nervousness manifesting in the back of Snape's mind suddenly blossomed into terror, consuming his senses with a panic he could barely control. Voldemort's words became a constant hiss inside his head, feeding his fear. Silently he strove to restrain his mind.
The hiss ceased, and in the silence Snape realized his Master expected an answer. Snape mouthed soundlessly for a moment, searching for words.
"No, My lord, but I beg you will let me return. Let me find Potter."
Contempt emanated from the response: "You sound like Lucius."
The hiss began again in Snape's ears and excuses began to flow off his tongue.
"But my Lord, he might be killed accidentally by one other than yourself—My Lord knows I seek only to serve him. But—let me go find the boy, my Lord. Let me bring him to you. I know I can—"
The cold rasp cut him off, and with this interruption, Snape's hope diminished. Panic had finally won, time lost meaning, and the blood pounded in his ears, drowning out all sound. He dared to raise a trembling arm to wipe the sweat from his forehead.
"… you have been a good and faithful servant, and I regret what must happen."
The veiled threat burned through Snape's reverie, bringing him back to reality with a jolt of realization.
"My Lord—"
"The Elder Wandt cannot serve me properly, Severus, because I am not its true master. The Elder Wand belongs to the wizard who killed its last owner. You killed Albus Dumbledore. While you live, Severus, the Elder Wand cannot be truly mine."
Fear became panicked desperation as Snape assumed a defensive posture, wand raised.
"My Lord!"
"It cannot be any other way. I must master the wand, Severus. Master the wand and I master Potter at last."
Snape's mind raced. He can't be serious. He can't kill me. In his eyes, I am his only truly faithful servant.'
Voldemort's wand rent the air, seemingly with no effect. Snape almost fell to his knees in relief. A single command was given in Parseltongue, and Snape saw the true menace of his Master's gestures. Nagini drifted through the air in the magical cage, forked tongue whipping the space in front of her with a venomous whisper.
Snape cried out as the snake's massive fangs punctured the tissue of his neck, tearing flesh from him with each attack. He fell heavily to the ground, a hand at his neck; dark, florid streams of blood ran down the back of his hand and stained the wrists of his robes. Voldemort swept out without a backwards glance, the snake trailing in his footsteps.
After,a few moments of panic, Severus Snape had resigned himself to the fate of dying alone, here in this cold, dank room. Against all odds, from thin air materialized the Potter boy and his lackeys, appearing from the folds of the Invisibility Cloak.
He must know! Snape thought, releasing the necessary memories in a silvery substance, neither liquid nor gas, a memory for the Pensieve. He prayed the boy would understand.
"Take …it…take …it" he murmured, his words slurred by the blood filling his mouth. The boy obeyed, taking the flask thrust into his hands by the Granger girl, allowing the memories to flow lethargically into the small glass bottle. A weight lifted from Snape's chest, the knowledge the boy would understand what had brought him here and what he must do. He had but one last request of the boy: "Look…at…me."
As his eyes clouded over, he saw familiar emerald eyes, gazing intently back at him…
Her eyes.