A/N: Glad you are still with me. Thank you again for the kind words. I do appreciate the feedback, but please don't be afraid to critique as well.

Her Last Breath?

Their plan was playing out magnificently. The Dark Lord had sent Dolohov and Yaxley to Number Ten Downing Street to apprehend Emmeline based on the information Severus had provided. She would be there of course, but Severus felt ill thinking about what tortures the poor woman would have to endure before being brought before the Dark Lord for her final punishment. The Death Eaters were seldom kind to their victims, and Emmeline was not their usual target.

Emmeline was well known among the crowd of Death Eaters that stood waiting for the inevitable. Voldemort had punished many of them severely for failing to see through the woman's deception. The room was thick with desire for vengeance. In any other situation, Severus would have actually been amused at their foolishness, but today he was terrified.

To his dismay, Emmeline looked worse than he had imagined when she arrived slumped over the arms of the two loyal Death Eaters. Her robes were in tatters, and her usually proper hair fell wildly about her face. He was not even sure she was still alive until her head raised enough for her eyes to meet his. Her stare was full of venom. He deserved that.

He did not fail to notice, however, that Dolohov and Yaxley were looking battle-worn as well. They should consider themselves lucky that this fight was rigged. Ms. Vance had not survived this long working for the Order without being an incredibly accomplished witch. He had no doubt that she would have successfully warded off this attack had circumstances been different even being outnumbered.

Snape struggled to remain stoic. The Dark Lord was watching.

"And to think I actually doubted you would come through, Severus," Voldemort laughed sinisterly.

Severus nodded although he really wanted to cringe. "I hope I have once again proven myself worthy of your trust, My Lord." He resisted the urge to observe the look of horror that must be plastered on Ms. Vance's features.

"Perhaps…" his voice trailed off as he paced around his captive, toying with his wand between his spindly fingers. "Well, well…How does it feel to know your end is near?"

"I could ask you the same question, but then again, I am sure that neither of us will justify it with an answer." Emmeline quipped back with her usual aura of confidence.

The Dark Lord laughed away her comments as he took aim with his wand. A silent curse hit the witch, and she writhed in obvious pain, but her eyes never left her tormentor. He continued to laugh as she cried out despite the clear effort not to do so.

Severus wondered how much more she would allow herself to take before releasing the potion she had hidden in an enchanted bubble along her inner gum line (an ingenious creation of his own in order to assure her fictitious demise). He had brewed his own superior version of The Draught of Living Death especially for this moment. He strained himself not to think of it, worried the Dark Lord may enter his thoughts at any moment. They could not afford to be discovered.

Her agony was evident in her cries, and he began to get irritated with the witch as her sounds grated on his fragile nerves. She could end her pain whenever she saw fit. Why was she being so damn brave? Could she not behave as a true Slytherin for once in her life?

Voldemort released his spell on the witch, and she fell to her hands and knees at his feet. "Coward!" She spat as her eyes burned into her enemy. Then she was immediately overtaken by another wave of pain.

"Bravery is for those who fear." Voldemort circled the tortured witch again. "Why should I prove myself to you when I would much rather watch you suffer for your deceit?" Again he laughed, and Emmeline responded with a sneer before convulsing as another spell overcame her.

Then the Dark Lord laughed louder as he strengthened his magical grip on Emmeline. She did not respond this time, and the Dark Lord finally released his spell. Her body collapsed to the stone floor, and she remained still.

"Does she still breathe, Severus?" He turned from the crumpled form.

Severus moved to crouch beside the witch reaching for her neck to feel a pulse. There was nothing. He sighed. "She is dead."

"Pity. I was rather enjoying her." He paused as if thinking about his next move. "Severus, take the body to Dumbledore. Antonin, raise the Dark Mark over the scene of her capture. And be loud about it. I wish many to see. Especially that Muggle Prime Minister…Let her death be a message to those that think they can deceive me…"