The hideous mouth had a trickle of blood at the corner as it pulled away from McGonagall's chest, matching the smear of red visible now on McGonagall's pale skin. Snape was relieved to note it was a small wound, meant only to tease at pain... it could have been much worse,but that was probably only due to the Dark Lord not wanting his sport to end too swiftly with her fainting.
Voldemort looked at the Death Eaters again. Snape looked too. Some of them held back, perhaps uneasy with the torture of their former teacher, but most were eagerly watching their master. Snape was disgusted to see many had their hands in their robes, and a few made it quite apparent how their master's show was affecting them. Crabbe was breathing heavily and begging his master to let him show the Gryffindor head who her betters were.
Voldemort chuckled and replied to the eager minion, "Patience... I am not done with her... yet." This seemed to please Crabbe, who took it as a promise that he would get a share. It also brought even greater panic to Snape, who watched helplessly while the Dark Lord reached again for McGonagall, crushing himself against her and moving his hand between their two bodies. She cried out with a moaning sob, and Snape knew Voldemort was touching her now. Her body moved in spasms, trying to buck him off of her to no avail, and she finally gave in to her panic and cried out to him, "S... S... Severus…please." She did not say the word help, but he heard it just as clearly. McGonagall's eyes found his and Snape saw the last shreds of hope die in them. He stared coldly back at her while his own mind screamed at him to stop this any way he could.
Snape opened his mouth to speak, not even sure yet what would issue from it. "Forgive me... my Lord." Voldemort stiffened and stilled but did not turn, "I am sorry to disturb your... sport... but I have returned with critical news... about the prophecy... about the Potter boy. I should have given my report sooner... but I was... distracted... by your unexpected... diversion." His mind wanted to replace the last word with 'perversion', but wisely, he was as unreadable as ever. Voldemort turned his head enough to sneer his displeasure at Snape, then did something that made McGonagall cry out again.
Snape tried again. "Master... surely the information I bring concerning the boy and the prophecy... new information that you have not yet heard, gathered by the Order in the Hall of Mysteries... before the recent battle..." He tried to use the Dark Lord's desperation for the lost prophecy as bait. Unfortunately it did not appear to hold more sway then his present dalliance, so Snape was forced to resort to a different tack "... is more important than satisfying some petty human need..." Voldemort turned abruptly, and Snape saw the wand snap out. So that had done it then. He hoped he'd gambled correctly enough to earn him torture and not death. It was such a fine line to tread.
"CRUCIO!" Voldemort was angry. Snape let the pain take him, not hiding his screams of excruciating agony since he knew only those would appease the Dark Lord's wrath.
"Severus, whatever knowledge you bring me can wait a little while longer." Voldemort moved closer to Snape as the painful contractions finally subsided enough for Snape to breathe again. "Be careful... or we might think you were not truly one of ussss." The last word was drawn out into a snakelike hiss.
After an infinitely long few moments, the pain subsidedagain to only the "unbearable" level, allowing him at least to think again, and attempt some speech.
"M - m - my lord..." groaned out Snape as he rolled onto his knees, "for.. forgive me for my... over-excitement... in bringing you news that might further our cause... I assure you my loyalties lie only with you." When Voldemort continued to stare at him, he paused a moment... hoping to delay the Dark Lord from his previous course of action as long as possible. Finally he added, "I bear your mark, Master. I wear no badge of Dumbledore's."
As he knew it would, the simple statement seemed to please Voldemort, and he finally turned his gaze away. "Only because Dumbledore does not need to induce pain and enforced servitude to ensure his followers loyalty." Snape did not share those thoughts with Voldemort, of course, but he could not stop them from flitting through his mind.
Voldemort swept across the room toward McGonagall once again, and no one dared say a word. Snape knew that if he did so again, he would die for it. He knew the only logical course was to do nothing. There was nothing he could do to help McGonagall. He'd seen rape before, even been forced to take some small part in it, though he luckily always managed to seem more involved then he actually was. And he'd arranged to be conveniently absent on most occasions. He'd seen people tortured, and killed... some that he'd even known. But never had it been someone he'd known this closely. He felt this was a test of his strength or his commitment. But he didn't know what the correct course was to make the grade. "What would Dumbledore do?" he thought.
But Dumbledore was not there to offer counsel or to help them. And Dumbledore was the only one Voldemort was fearful of, save perhaps the Potter child. Okay, then... what would Dumbledore advise Snape to do? It was sure to be along the lines of whatever would benefit the greater good. Was the greater good served best by Snape leaving McGonagall to face her unfortunate fate?Probably. McGonagall was crying again. Snape heard her softly beg, "Please... no!" then small shrieks of unmistakable pain, accompanied by the cheers and laughter of the assembled horde below the stage-like dais.
Snape felt something dangerous snap inside him. "Bugger the greater good, then!" he thought fiercely and reached for his wand.