She was strung up before the Dark Lord, her wrists and ankles held with bonds of pulsating green bands, magical ties that Snape knew were unbreakable except by magical means. Snape had no idea how they had gotten hold of her. There had been safety measures in place. She knew the dangers, and she was a very practical and powerful witch, one even better than most at slipping out of harm's way, being one of only seven known Animagi of the last century. But that skill would not help her now. Even transfiguring one's form was pointless as the magical bonds adapted to fit the captive's shape. The weariness and fear on her face told Snape that she was aware of that fact, perhaps having tried all her options already.
Snape glanced at McGonagall's panicked eyes, then took in the scene while he walked slowly toward the Dark Lord's waiting form.He had yet to look at Voldemort himself directly, and he was afraid of what he'd see when he did. His mind raced, and he wished he could slip away to send a Patronus to Dumbledore or the other Order members. He had no plan for this and could not see a way safely past it, for himself or for her. He knew he would not be able to sit idly by and be witness to her sacrifice. He knew his own limits, and he feared for the ultimate goal if he could not uphold his ruse. "Where is your WAND?" he thought in his frenzy. Not for the first time, he cursed the Order members for not listening to his advice to learnmore wandless magic. The only ones he knew besides himself who had any skill at it were Remus Lupin and Dumbledore.
Snape tore his gaze away and knelt with bowed head before Voldemort, then steeled his will and recited the now familiar litany. "Forgive me, my Lord... for my tardiness. There were... unforeseen obstacles... that delayed my ability to obey your summons as immediately as I wished to." The most convincing lies were those that most closely resembled the truth... it was an old spy's adage he'd come to understand a long time ago, and he reminded himself of it frequently.
He was surprised at how cool his words sounded, but he had practiced well for this role. He felt her eyes snap to him even though he did not spare her another glance. She had not recognized him with the mask, but his voice she knew. Snape looked up at the Dark Lord now and saw the serpent eyes watching him, a small smile playing on the snakelike face. So the Dark Lord wasn't angry, presumably a result of the new toy he'd acquired to lighten his mood. McGonagall would pay instead, and the Death Eaters would get a reprieve. Snape felt sick inside and wondered idly which of the Dark Lord's servants they owed this "reward" to.
"Severusss," drawled the Dark Lord, the sound like a slowly rumbling hiss, "I have been patiently waiting for your return." He gestured now to the suspended figure, and Snape had no choice but to look at her again, "You almost missed the show."
Snape wished he had if there was nothing he could do to prevent it. His eyes were cool and both masks were in place, but behind them, his mind whirled and spun in frantic circles. He had to think. He must find some way... but he knew there was none, and his mind refused to focus.
Snape saw McGonagall watching him. She looked panicked and in shock, but she did not say his name or beg for his aid. She believed in his cover, and she would gladly sacrifice herself for the goals of the Order. She was a Gryffindor, and for once Severus Snape was grateful for that house's most notable trait.
Voldemort walked slowly around Snape and then over to McGonagall. Snape looked around and noticed the other Death Eaters all watching quietly. He tried to judge the number but soon realized there were far too many of them, even if he did decide to somehow risk it all to save her. He was troubled at his own thoughts. He had not realized how highly he valued her until this moment. The only good from his entire youth was being able to escape to Hogwarts, and then the only fairness he'd gotten, even there, was from this woman. She'd been a sort of beacon to him, a safe harbour in a sea of abuse and neglect, and she was not even of his house. And now he'd have to watch her suffer. He knew he could not bear it, even if she could.
The Dark Lord was speaking again. "Minerva McGonagall..." He slid past her and trailed his fingers across her skin as he spoke in a menacingly sweet voice. "We went to school together in our youth." Her eyes watched him warily and darted back to Snape's. "I once offered you a choice, Minerva. Do you remember it?" She shut her eyes for a moment and said quietly, "Yes."
"Good... and do you regret the choice you made then, Minerva?" His voice sounded like a caress, and it was even more frightening for it. Snape watched McGonagall. She swallowed once before saying in a firm voice, "No, Tom. I do not regret any of my choices." Snape saw in her eyes that she wanted to say more, but her nerve failed her, and she fell silent.
Snape expected to see the Dark Lord's rage then, at her daring to use his birth name if not her rejection. But it did not come. Instead he heard a low chuckle, as if her response were just what he'd been hoping for. "Such a shame, Minerva. A Pureblood witch like yourself, and with such promising gifts. What a sad waste because of a silly, old hat."
He walked slowly around her as he talked more to himself than to her. "The blame lies with faulty education, really... after all, it's the teachers who lead the students toward their... beliefs." Laughter followed this comment. "Wouldn't you agree, Minerva?" She remained silent and avoided his eye contact.
"Head of Gryffindor... enemy of Slytherin." Snape saw her jaw set in stubborn lines as Voldemort hissed the words so close to her face. Her eyes closed tight for a moment when he raised his voice to address his Death Eaters. "A message, my loyal followers." A murmur went through the crowd, sounding both of excitement and trepidation, as some of the gathered were genuinely happy to at last have some of their master's attention... and others simply knew what was expected of them in the face of their Lord's conquest.
"Dumbledore stacks all the cards in Gryffindor's favour at Hogwarts... a tradition that goes back through the ages, I'm told." Snape did not like where this was heading. Voldemort continued, "Perhaps it's time we awarded our own House Cup, hmm?" Some answering snickers. "I say we show house Gryffindor that Slytherin is the dominant house... once and for all!"
Snape thought that was the point of the war, but he knew that was not what Riddle had in mind at the moment. His present plan was more personal and more troubling. Snape's suspicions were confirmed a moment later when Voldemort suddenly turned and forcefully grabbed McGonagall. She gasped as he shoved her against the wall behind her. He pressed his body against her, and Snape saw panic threaten the control she had tried so valiantly for.