WARNING: This chapter contains scenes where rape is discussed, as well as scenes portraying PTSD/depression and forced marriage. If any of these topics are problematic for you, don't read this chapter. No detailed descriptions of any ugly things, though. THAT'S WHY I CHANGED THE RATING ON THIS STORY TO M. If you are not in the age appropriate group for M stories, please LEAVE NOW.

This chapter is probably the most explicit of all the chapters of this story (again, I repeat, no details given!). I need to say loud and clear that I DO NOT approve of violence, sexual assault, and/or forced marriage in any way, they only serve as devices for future plot development in my story. They are serious crimes, and in my opinion should be condemned and punished way more severely than they are. This is no joke, and I tried my best to treat this matter as gently and sensitively as I could, storywise.

Again, if you are scared by these things, DON'T READ this chapter. The next chapter will briefly mention the main plotpoints, no worries :)

When I was little, I often pictured the amazing day when I would get married: My wedding was always to be a grand affair, not necessarily with hundreds of guests but I always imagined it would be exquisite – and also very expensive. I dreamt of myself in rich, white gown, adorned by countless golden jewellry, carrying a large bouquet of white roses, walking down the aisle, the warm sun illuminating my path towards my husband, a man I always imagined I would love until death us part in old age. I imagined my proud mother, and my father, whose blue eyes would silently rim with tears, wave us goodbye on our honeymoon as a luxurious nineteenth-century carriage pulled by eight white mares would carry us away into the sunset.

Now, I silently draped the black veil over my face and a lone tear escaped my eye. I chose black for my dress, because I didn't want to spoil that childhood dream which was somewhere, in a corner of my mind, still alive. I wanted to protect it.

"We may go." I said softly to Severus, who was leaning on the doorframe. I took one last look at myself at the mirror and then gave him my hand as he slowly led me into the throne room where the Bonding ceremony was to be.

He could clearly see I was devastated. All the passers-by, who dared peep at me from the slits of their crack-open doors, could see I was devastated. But no one did anything. No one helped me, no one reached for me as Severus led me silently through the corridors.

There were just six people in the throne room: the Dark Lord, the Magistrate, an eldelry wizard, clearly terrified out of his wits, clad in the traditional attire appropriate to Bonding (a red priest-like gown with a square hat), Bellatrix, who had somehow weaseled herself into the position of my future husband witness (each of us had to have one), and the Malfoys.

My steps echoed on the stone floor. Severus led me to stand before the Magistrate, next to his master, bowed towards him and then joined the Malfoys a few steps away.

"You look splendid." Voldemort hissed delightfully. I just looked down at my feet. Out of the thousands of sentences one would say to someone at the proverbial altar, there was nothing I wanted to say to him.

"Dear wizards and witches," the Magistrate cleared his throat, "we are gathered here to witness the Bonding between two happy souls, two people who are deeply in love with one another…"

The Magistrate's voice trailed off into the fog in my head. I just watched him, dumbfounded, how he could continue reciting that pile of crap, those words and sentences that were so out of place in here that they were simply downright lies. Does he really believe that? Does he really believe that I'm in love with him?! He can't be that foolish! Why doesn't he stop it? Why can't he see that what is happening here is clearly nothing close to a happy union?! Why doesn't he declare the ceremony invalid just by taking one look at my grief-stricken face?

And I still didn't know what Voldemort intended to do about me saying no to him. He hadn't offered me anything in exchange, any bargain from which I could profit – I was now sorely tempted to say no, just to see what he would do about it.

And who was stopping me? I could say no, I realised and my face lit up. I could say no! I could say no! And I will say no!

"May I ask the winesses to produce a statement of the couple's possessions and property?" The Magistrate asked.

Maybe, when he sees that I have nothing, I thought, maybe he won't want me anymore.

But then, Snape stepped forward, and with a smug smile, produced a piece of parchment. It was with utter horror that I realised all the things I signed off to Lupin were still listed there.

But how?! Did they somehow make Lupin give it back to me without me knowing? No, that should be impossible. What was happening?!

My distraught eyes saught the black ones in the darkness. But Severus didn't look at me.

"Helena Viola Elsemere, Lady of Alladale, will you Bond yourself to this wizard standing here?" My mind snapped back into the present and I realised with horror that Voldemort had already confirmed his intentions to Bond himself to me – we all knew this was only a phrase, of course. The Bonding, in our case, would only be unidirectional.

Say no. Just say no.

And I would say no!

Just as I was about to open my mouth to speak, my soon-to-be husband seized his wand and pointed at Snape.

With a vicious grin, he said: "Say yes, or I'll kill him."

And then, it dawned on me. This was his bargain all along. Say yes, or I'll kill him. How could have I been so blind?! How could have I thought that all these hours of talking to my friend remained unobserved and unnoticed?

Voldemort knew all along. He knew Severus and I were getting friendly, and he let it happen, perhaps just for this only purpose.

"You-You can't force me–" I stuttered.

"Who's forcing you?" Voldemort gave a wide terrifying smile. I didn't dare look at Severus. "You are absolutely free to give me whichever answer you please. You can say no, and nobody is going to be Bonded today."

Of course. Of course he would say that. For him, this was an absolutely even choice. He wouldn't hesitate to say no.

But I wasn't like him.

"Yes, I will." I said, my throat dry.

"Bond her to me." Voldemort commanded coldly. The Magistrate stepped towards me, and out of the tip of his wand, there flew a golden ribbon. One end of the ribbon disappeared inside Voldemort's chest, presumably, where his heart was supposed to be (I was sure that there was absolutely nothing in there), and more and more lengths of the ribbon were still flying out of the Magistrate's wand. Finally, there was the end of the ribbon, which rooted itself in my heart with a painful feeling of loss and despair, and our two chests sucked the ribbon in, like two ends of a winch, and after some time, the gold ribbon started to pull us closer and closer to one another. I knew this was the moment where the couple was supposed to kiss, but I couldn't bring myself to do that. As I was magically pulled towards him, I silently prayed: Please don't kiss me, please don't kiss me, please don't kiss me…

But this time, I was lucky, he only held me against his chest for a second, and then the ritual was done.

As Voldemort released me, and I stumbled backwards, the Magistrate said: "May I ask the witnesses to sign the documents here?"

And the Bonding was done. It happened. It was over. I was now his wife.

I looked at him, horrified, unable to process that he had really done what he had done, that he really Bonded me to him, the exact thing my father had always feared…

"Give me your hand." Voldemort hissed, and snatched my left hand. Placing the tip of his slender, bone-like finger at the root of my ring-finger, he gave me another hideous smile: "So that you wouldn't complain I haven't given you anything to remember me by."

Sharp pain clouded my vision, and I felt like the base of my ring-finger was on fire. Tears erupted from my eyes sooner than I could will them away. After a few seconds of that unbearable pain, I winced a few times and looked at my finger.

And there, just where the wedding ring would have been, was a hideous tattoo of a black, coiling snake: the serpent was coiled around my finger, and its small head served instead of the gemstone rings usually had. The mouth of the snake was open, and it seemed that the animal was trying to eat its tail.

The ouroboros.

As I was gawking at my finger in silent disbelief and fury, Voldemort handed me a bouquet of flowers: "These are for you."

I looked at the flowers. Then I tipped my head back and gave a short, hysterical, barking laugh. A few curiuos stares turned towards me, but the Magistrate was hastily excusing himself – the ceremony was over.

"What's funny?" Draco joined me silently as I stepped aside, hoping to run back to my room and lock myself there. Without saying another word, I passed the flowers towards him.

He furrowed his brows: "I don't get it."

"That's Aconite. If you were looking for a flower saying 'I hate you', this would be exactly the kind of flower you'd choose." I explained. "Plus, it's poisonous."

Draco's grey eyes met mine: "He gave you poisonous flowers on your wedding day."

"Draco, I don't know how perceptive you are, but you must have seen there's not exactly love between the two of us. I'm going back to my room." I announced to everyone and no one at the same time: the Magistrate was gone, my new husband was talking to Narcissa, Lucius and Bellatrix, and Snape was hovering close to them, pretending to be interested.

"Would you-Do you want me to come with you?" Draco offered with some sympathy in his voice, but I stopped him gently. "No. It would raise too many questions."

"But I didn't mean–"

"I know what you meant. But from now on, you must be careful, Draco." I leaned towards him, whispering. "I'm his now. If he smells foul play, we'll all be dead."

The boy nodded and I walked out of the room, still holding the flowers.

Just as I reached my room, I gave a wicked cackle just as the stems of the flowers were catching fire.

"There's no need to burn a perfectly good Monkshood." Came a deep purr from the doorway. I didn't even turn around. I knew very well who it was.

"Do you want it?" I said, and extended my hand with the bouquet towards the Potions Master.

"If you would burn it otherwise?" He shrugged his shoulders. I gave him the flowers and he willed them to disappear, probably somewhere where he could pick them up later.

"You know what they say about the bride's bouquet of flowers," I teased him, "whomever gets it will get married in a year's time."

"Ha, ha. Very funny, Helena Viola. I'll make sure to stock up on engagement rings just in case." He smirked at me, and I gave a genuine, hearty laugh.

Little did we know that my foolish prediction would come true.

"Thanks for not killing me, Helena." He stepped towards me, genuine warmth in his eyes. The intensity of it struck me. I wanted to get closer, closer to that warmth. Let it envelope me, caress me, carry me away…

"Did you think I would let him kill you?" I said softly.

"For a fleeting moment, yes." He admitted. "I also had no idea he intended to blackmail you like that. I'm sorry." A sincere, heartfelt apology.

"You have nothing to apologise for. I should have seen it coming." I said, sadness in my voice, and I sank to the bed. "I should have known he suspected I would say no, and that he was plotting to get around that loophole in the Binding laws."

"Can he do that, though? You said the consent in the Binding ceremony couldn't be forced–"

"The worst thing is, what he said was correct. I did have a choice. I could have said no. I wasn't manipulated directly." I said bitterly. "Plus, you saw that ribbon. That bond now exists between us, and it is pretty much real and alive."

"Is there no way to sever it?"

"To get a divorce, you mean? No, there's no divorce from the Binding bond. It's for life." I said bitterly, and tears were silently dripping onto the carpet. "I'm trapped forever, Severus, and the only way for me to ever escape is to–"

"Don't even say that out loud!" He snapped at me, all the warmth from his eyes and voice suddenly gone. "I won't let you die, Helena, is that clear?! That is a promise." He said, and I felt his arms slowly, tentatively circling my shoulders. I buried my face into his chest and let the sorrow and the tears flow, flow away. He held me in his arms, and stroke my hair gently, he held me as I cried, and cried, cried, cried until I had no tears left.

"I am truly and unequivocally sorry, Helena." He murmured softly into my ear. "I swear to you on my very life that I searched high and low to stop this. I wanted to set you free. But I couldn't find a way."

"Will you get me a wedding gift, at least?" I batted my wet lashes at him as I spoke, my voice still raw from the crying.

"Of course, anything." He said solemnly.

"I need some gloves." I whispered. "And I would be even more glad to wear them if I knew they were from you." Filled with digust, I showed him the serpent tattoo on my finger. He frowned as he bent closer to it, studying it silently.

A few moments passed. I was sure he was thinking hard on something.

And then, he unbuttoned his left sleeve and rolled it up, showing me his tattoo. The serpent with the skull. Just as he had done before, I bent closer to it to look at it, I had never seen an actual Dark Mark before.

He stroke my cheek affectionately and whispered: "It's not that bad when it's covered. I don't even think of it most of the time. Of course I will get you gloves, Helena. I will get you as many as you ask. In all the colours that exist, to match your pretty dresses." He gave me a genuine, kind smile and he caressed my cheek again.

And then, something silly occurred to me: if we bent a bit closer, we could kiss. Would we? Could we? It didn't feel as unwelcome as I would have thought.

I needed to do something. Anything to break the moment, the tension between us. Because I feared that if we indeed did kiss, the bond would somehow sense it and we would get both killed. I would get Severus killed.

"Do you think it works the same as your tattoo?" I cleared my throat as I said, putting some space between us on purpose.

"I have no idea." He admitted. "But I can ask Albus next time I'm in my office."

"Right, the portrait." I realised. "That would be very nice of you. I don't want him feeling me through it. And I don't want to feel him either."

We both knew what I meant.

-oOo-

"Is it done?"

"It is done."

"Is she alright?" Albus asked gently.

"No, she isn't alright." Snape spat. "She has just been enslaved for the rest of her life, Albus, and right now, she is probably being raped as we speak. Shall I go on, or is that a good-enough answer to your question?!"

"Something's troubling you."

"There, you guessed it."

"Are you mad at Tom for getting, again, everything he wanted?"

"No, I'm mad at you, Albus. Why in Merlin's name did you tell Eogwyn to let her wait like a lamb to be dragged into a slaughterhouse? Why haven't you- hasn't he- done anything about the whole thing? He knew he would go after her when he would come back. Why not do something then? Why wait all this time and hand her to him like some kind of sacrifice?"

"Because she is sacrifice." Said Dumbledore and – perhaps it was the light and the way his face was painted on the canvas – but his expression has never seemed darker. "In order to grant Harry victory, we had to give Tom the small things he wanted–"

"Small things? Small things?!" Snape roared at the painting. "She is a human being, Dumbledore! A living person, with her whole life in front of her, which is now ruined–"

"And there was the prophecy, of course, Harry needs her–"

"I DON'T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT WHAT POTTER NEEDS!" Snape bellowed at the painting, his hands clenched into fists. "What about other people, Dumbledore?! Have you ever thought about what other people need? What she needs, what I need?! No, of course not, you and your grandiose plans for the greater good – you disgust me!"

And there it was. The same words that Dumbledore said to him all those years ago.

"You care about her." Dumbledore said, a small realization twinkling in his eyes. "You have feelings for her."

"Bullshit." Snape spat again. "I just don't treat people as pawns in my brilliant game of chess, that's all."

Truth was, Severus didn't know much about his own feelings anymore. Out of thin air, he could list all the things that annoyed him about her, but, he could equally list all the brilliant things that drew him towards her inexplicably: she was proud – too proud – was that a bad thing or a good thing? She was honest, but cunning, not carrying her heart on an outstretched palm and, usually, she took great care to hide her emotions when she didn't want other people to see them, but just as equally, she could open up just as easily when they were on their own. She was clever – brilliant even, if he remembered the stunt she pulled with the potion ingredients from de la Rosse, but she wasn't a bookworm, a know-it-all, like so many other people – she was just naturally clever. She was pretty, very pretty, but she wasn't vain and her sharp tongue… Snape smiled as he remembered all those instances when her wit left him with a soft smile on his lips.

So did he have feelings for her? Absolutely not.

-oOo-

It took him about a fortnight before he was needed to go back to the Malfoy Manor again. But before he could ascend into the throne room, and then slip into her tiny room at the end of the first corridor as usual, he was stopped by a small crouched-up figure.

"I need some strengthening potions. Nourishing potions, sustaining potions, what have you, and quick!" Draco pulled him into a small room in the entryway: it was, in fact, the same room where he watched Helena eat all these months ago.

"You look perfectly healthy to me." Snape snapped at him. That's for scaring the shit out of me, he thought.

"It's not for me, it's for her." Draco hissed urgently, and it was easy to see that the boy was very frustrated – and very scared. "You don't know anything, do you? Of course, how could you–"

In two seconds, Snape found himself pinning Draco against the wall: "What's wrong, what has he done?!"

"What do you think?!" Draco hissed at him so viciously that Snape thought the boy would turn into a human sized snake any second. "What has he been planning to do the first moment you and my father dragged her here?!"

"Oh, so you're on her side now." Severus sneered at him, because somewhere deep inside him, a roaring monster wanted to rip Draco apart for being so close with her.

"And you're not?! I thought, after I've seen you together like thousand times-"

"All this is irrelevant." Snape said in a business-like manner, and stepped away from the youngest Malfoy. "What's happened?"

"The – thing – happened, what he's been planning to do to her all along… You know…" Draco was suddenly fidgety. Not wanting to say the word 'rape' out loud, are we? Snape thought. Well it's a bit late for that, my dear boy…

He stopped the boy's blabbing with a raised hand: "I know what you're talking about. He did it. So?"

"So? SO?!" Draco roared at him, and suddenly, a different, but albeit very similar, conversation from two weeks prior surfaced in Snape's mind. Where he'd been the one who was shouting. "He's been dragging her away to do that – thing – every day for like a week, and I had to hold her hands! HER BLOODY HANDS! Do you know what that feels like, you heartless bastard, do you?! I suppose you'd like to be in my place, wouldn't you, you'd like to watch her scream and fight, wouldn't you?! And then watch her break into pieces after she had to go through it for like a millionth time, wouldn't you, Snape–"

SMACK!

Draco's head turned abruptly to the right, his left cheek bright red. His mouth closed shut and with his eyes popped out in shock, he watched the Potions Master draw his wand.

"You haven't seen me here, Draco. Tell them you've received my owl saying I'd be late for the meeting." Said Snape as he was already at the door, Disillusioned, and running up the flight of stairs onto the first floor.

-oOo-

I lay there in darkness, my distant look focused on something far away – I didn't know what it was. I didn't know who I was. I didn't know how many days I had been lying here. I didn't know how many days had passed since I had last eaten, last showered.

And I didn't care.

There was a knock on the door.

Probably Draco again, trying to make me eat something. But he wouldn't be successful, as always. The poor boy had been concerning himself with me for too long, it was time to let him go, to let myself go…

"Fuck." A man's voice. Is it time again? Have they come for me again? I closed my eyes, huge tiredness descending on me heavily like a thick coat. Let me be…

"Helena!" Somebody was calling my name, somebody was gently patting my left cheek…

"Helena! Merlin's sake, Helena!"

"Severus…" I whispered. I couldn't even open my eyes to see him. The heaviness was still weighing me down.

I heard him frantically searching in the pockets of his coat: "I swear I'll kill Draco the first chance I get… Drink this." He pressed the tip of a small vial to my dry lips. I shook my head gently.

"That wasn't a question." He said brusquely. He lifted me up a bit and the contents of the vial soon found themselves trickling down my throat. I coughed, not being used to swallow anything for days.

"There's only so much I can give you right now – when have you last eaten something?"

No answer. Soon enough, I found the steel talons of his Legillimency scraping on my mental doors, pleading for me to let him into my mind.

I let him. I didn't care. My defenses were so weak anyway, he could have gotten in even if he hadn't asked. It didn't make any sense to me why he bothered asking, actually.

Answer me, Helena.

I don't know. Can't remember.

He cursed under his breath again. And then, he pressed the tip of his wand to my forehead, mumbling softly words I couldn't make out. Like a lullaby, I thought, and soon found myself drifting into a calm, emotionless sleep. A safe space that was just my own. I wished I could stay there forever.

-oOo-

"My Lord," Snape's patience was slowly but surely running dry. "I beg you, let me take her to Hogwarts–"

"There's no question about that, Severus, I won't allow it." Said Voldemort, annoyed. All the Death Eaters present shrunk into their chairs, as they always did, when they sensed their master's wrath rising.

"With all due respect, she'll die like this in a few hours, My Lord." Snape drawled dangerously. "I had to put her into a magically induced coma–"

"It's not my fault she wasted away like this, as far as I understand, Draco's been bringing her food, so I don't really see any problem, Severus." The Dark Lord said coldly.

"My Lord, I beseech you to reconsider – Poppy Pomfrey can put her back on her feet in no time, besides, what's the point of going into so much trouble with the prisoner if she won't last long enough to produce you an heir?" Severus hated himself for saying this. He loathed himself so much that he would like to smack his own cheek as hard as he had smacked Draco's. But he knew what he had to say for Voldemort to hear him out. To persuade him to let him save her.

"Perhaps something should be done." Said Voldemort after a pause. "But why Hogwarts? Why Pomfrey? Wouldn't St. Mungo's be enough?"

"I can supervise her at Hogwarts, there's no one to do that at St. Mungo's. If she chooses to run away, they won't be stopping her."

"You'll be in charge of her then, Severus." Voldemort gave a hideous grin. "It will be your fault if she escapes, or if something else happens to her."

"I can warrant her safety, My Lord." Snape said.

"And as soon as it's possible, you'll bring her back for another set of… duties." How he hated that hideous grin. How he wished to be able to kill him, right there, on the spot.

Potter's gonna do that soon enough, Severus thought. And I swear I shall help him succeed even if it should cost me my life.