Chapter Title from "Bleed to Love Her" by Fleetwood Mac

Her high pitched squeal echoed off the cold marble of the entry hall to Malloy Manor, as black as her dress, as callous as her soul.

Lord Voldemort made a "tsk tsk" with his tongue. "I do apologize, my dear Severus. You see, I owed her a Welcome Home present, and this is what she chose. I couldn't deny her when she'd been held captive for so long, now could I? Fourteen years— and not an ounce of love lost. Impressive devotion."

"Of course, I understand, my Lord." Severus grimaced and wriggled instinctively against the ropes that bound his wrists to the wall. A giant gash in his side dripped blood onto the floor.

Voldemort paced slowly back and forth, stroking his wand. "You should actually thank her, Severus. I offered your bride up as a prize instead, but my dear Bella preferred you."

"For now," the witch piped up with a smirk. She waved her wand once again and Snape vomited violently on the floor.

"My love, he's made a mess all over my sissy's nice floor," Bellatrix told the Dark Lord with a pout. "Will you please make him clean it up?"

"As you wish, dear. Your years in Azkaban have proven you most loyal and worthy of reward."

Voldemort released Snape from his binds and he dropped to the floor with a thud. He transfigured a rag and tossed it at Severus's head. "I am merciful enough, of course, to allow him the aid of a cleaning tool, yes? Though a wand would be quite useful here. 'Practical Magic'? Tell me, how are the home fires burning these days?"

"She is well, my Lord, though quite busy with teaching." Snape wiped up the mess with the rag, reminding himself it could always be worse. And it had been. "I have advised her to focus on her teaching career to remain in Dumbledore's good graces, and those of the Ministry, of course."

Voldemort chuckled. "Ah, yes. The teaching of basic magical principles to poor struggling Muggleborns. I'm fairly certain we could find a more useful task for her. I already have one spy at Hogwarts; I don't need another."

Snape finished cleaning the floor but remained on his knees, knowing better than to rise before commanded to do so. "She is uniquely positioned, my Lord. Dumbledore thinks of her like a daughter, and has already proven to make unwise decisions when in her presence. I think it will be useful to exploit his emotional pitfalls."

"Well, if she is so impressive she has captured both you and Dumbledore under her spell, I simply must insist on meeting her. This has gone on too long without a formal introduction, don't you think? My feelings are a bit hurt, Severus."

Bellatrix slinked over to her master's side. "Indeed. I hear she's a rather pretty thing. Platov has been mouthy about her ever since I got back— says he didn't get his fill in the alley that night. Been begging me to set it straight for him, but wouldn't it be better to get the girl herself?" Her blood red lips opened to reveal teeth blackened by years of prison neglect, but the way she held her body at the Dark Lord's side showed she still fancied herself a worthy consort.

"I still owe Platov a punishment," Voldemort mused. "For obliviating Miss Aspenfell's memories that night. Tell me, Severus, were you able to jog her memories of the trinket?"

"She confirmed when she purchased it in the second hand shop, she was told it held the ability to conquer death. She thought nothing of it, thought it a bit silly. But bought it nonetheless to free herself from the salesman. He was rather pushy and she grew tired of his advances. If you'll permit me to retrieve my robe sir, I will return the talisman to you."

"Yes, and then you will bring Professor Aspenfell back to me. Within an hour. Bella, fetch Platov."

Snape's heart sank. "My lord?"

"Don't worry, Severus. I will honor my promise for her to not be defiled, for now." Bellatrix made a pout. "But why keep the pleasures of punishing Platov all to myself? It's a splendid opportunity for the girl to prove her abilities. It would be a shame to waste it."

Snape closed his eyes briefly but nodded. "I will bring her within the hour."

"Severus! I'm so glad you're back. I had the worst day in class today. Do you know what Fred and George actually did to me? They—..."

Snape cut her off before she could tell the tale of the chalk the twins had enchanted to write, "I shagged Snape," on the chalkboard instead of her lessons for the day. She would have given them detention, except she knew what they did to her there would probably be worse. The Gryffindor kids were decent to her, but they hadn't quite forgiven the fact that she'd chosen their least favorite professor over Sirius, whom they all adored, and Rhiannon paid for it weekly as a victim to their practical jokes.

"Well your day is about to get markedly worse. Are you ready to meet your father?" Snape began slipping an assortment of potions and salves into the pockets of his robes, in preparation for what, Rhiannon didn't want to know. Her blood went cold.

"I should also ask you if you're ready to torture someone, because that is on the menu for tonight, and there are no other choices. The Dark Lord was quite clear."

Rhiannon swallowed, shaking. "Can't you negotiate?"

"I've already negotiated!" Snape snapped at her. "I negotiated months ago to keep you from getting gang raped by a band of Death Eaters prematurely released from years in prison. Unfortunately that's the best I could do."

Rhiannon's eyes filled with tears. Her mind just wanted to shut down. There had to be some place to run— anywhere.

"There is no place," Snape told her firmly, obviously deciding that in each other's minds was a good place to be, given the circumstances. "You will be found no matter where you go, and the consequences will be much worse than if you had complied in the first place. And for Merlin's sake, girl, stop crying! I told you before you don't want him to see you as weak."

"Severus, I'm so scared," she whispered. Snape came over to her quickly, sighing as he pulled her close. "What if he just looks at me and knows? What if he takes me and I never see you again? What if he makes me be like him?"

He kissed the top of her head and gripped her to him with a grim determination. "You have to block the knowledge that you're any relation to him. Like I told you before, transfer it to me. If you feel darkness within you, blame me. Or thank me, whatever you see fit. But you must see yourself in relation to me, not to him. Your a Death Eater's lover, not the Dark Lord's daughter. Do you understand me? When you look at him, it will be with a detached reverence. You will be in awe of him, almost like you've never even heard of him before. You will forget all prior knowledge. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"And you cannot, under any circumstances, think of Sirius Black. The location of Grimmauld Place shouldn't be an issue because it's guarded with a secret keeper. You wouldn't be able to betray that. But I can't explain your presence with Black or your feelings for him. If he sees that it will ruin everything."

She drew in a breath. "That's not a problem. I don't think about him."

Rhiannon knew he didn't fully believe that, but he nodded. "Good. Everything else will fall into place. You have a natural knack for offensive spells and you've done well learning defense. Your only downfall is your emotions. Control those, and you will be fine. Now, the person you will be asked to punish is your attacker from that night in New Orleans."

"What? Are you joking?"

"Is this a joking manner, Miss Aspenfell?" Snape always reverted to that name whenever he was annoyed with her or wanted to belittle her. "You should be grateful for that. You have good reason to hate him, and that should fuel your performance."

Rhiannon considered it for a minute. She hadn't really taken time to hate the Death Eater who had attacked her that night. Mainly because she didn't remember anything. But also because it had set off the chain of events that brought her here, with Severus, to her career, to her destiny. She couldn't even fathom what life in New Orleans would be like now. The girl who was attacked that night was like a ghost in the fog.

"He was a man, who took advantage of a woman, and stole something that belonged to your mother. Just think of it that way— not all those other things," he advised quietly. "And I'm not blocking our connection. You will have full access to my thoughts if you need them, and I yours. Just don't look like you're searching for them. Let them flow naturally."

"There's so much to remember."

"It will be fine. We will be back here in bed before the sun comes up. But we cannot waste any more time now. We have to get to Malfoy Manor." Snape sounded much more confident than he felt, she could tell. But he had survived this many times and was still the the man she loved — strong, capable, able to sleep at night and wake up in the morning and love her with everything he had. If he could survive it, she could too.

"All right, I'm ready."

Snape squeezed her hand. "Grab your coat. We have to go outside to apparate."

Rhiannon put on her dark green Slytherin coat. As if some fate had driven the day, she was dressed in black- a black high neck blouse and long skirt. She looked more witch-like than her normal choice of dress— a blessing now, of course.

They marched determinedly through the Great Hall and into the cold January night, hand in hand. Rhiannon could have gone her whole life without this moment. She had everything she needed in Severus, in her job, in her hopeful future with the Order. She didn't need her father.

Not your father. The Dark Lord.

She felt her body lurch forward and she landed on a marble floor, quickly catching her balance and her breath. The room was dark, only a few lanterns on the wall providing scant light. She slowly focused on the figures in the room. A handsome blond man and his equally regal wife at his side, a deranged looking woman with wild dark hair, a sandy haired man bound and gagged on the floor, and then...him. Cold, majestic, smooth. He was more human-like than she'd imagined but at the same time the personification of a snake.

No, you've never imagined him. This is your first time. And you are in awe of him.

His eyes were icy blue, but as he turned his head she glimpsed red in their pupils. His fingers were long with even longer nails, his robes rather humble compared to what she had expected.

No, you never expected anything. He is a stranger.

Voldemort began his assault on her with steps, inching ever closer, his eyes appearing to be in a trance. Rhiannon felt her own green orbs come alive— something behind them. She wanted to look away but she couldn't.

Don't look away. Fight it in your mind instead.

Snape was with her. Commanding. Comforting.

"No wonder Severus Snape doesn't want to share," the Dark Lord sneered. "I believe the celestial forces from on high have sent you here to us, my dear. Your beauty and power is quite rare. But I'm sure I'm not the first to tell you that."

"No, you are not," Rhiannon agreed confidently. "It is a pleasure to meet you, my Lord." She bowed reverently.

"It is I who should bow to you, my child."

Rhiannon bristled, not expecting those words on multiple levels. She caught the wild-haired woman out of the corner of her eye, the woman's face contorted into confusion and revulsion.

"But before I do," Voldemort continued. "I'll need you to show me you are worthy. May I view you wand?"

Rhiannon removed it from her skirt pocket and held it out to him bravely. If she thought about anything of the things he told her to do tonight, she would never do them. So she just had to act and obey. Voldemort sniffed the oak with his nose-less nostrils and touched it to his cheek as if its energy were speaking into his ear.

"Golden oak and horsehair. You have an affinity for horses, don't you? I can see it. No wonder you took a fancy to my horse goddess charm."

Rhiannon watched as his deft fingers removed the tiny woman rider and her steed from the little leather bag that held them.

"This was stolen from you by this man." The Dark Lord pointed to the bound body on the floor with Rhiannon 's wand, sending a bolt toward him.

Rhiannon jumped at the shock she herself felt as Voldemort transferred his own magic into her wand. It felt like a deep wound— a violation.

"So possessive, aren't we?" Voldemort marveled. "Usually my followers are honored that I bless their instrument with my power."

"I am honored, my Lord. I was just surprised— being from America I haven't grown up with any tales about you— I had no idea the breadth of your power. It's...magnificent."

Voldemort cackled, returning Rhiannon's wand. "Severus, you've taught her to play the game so well. Listen to how she placates me. Tell me, does she ever challenge you?"

Severus took only a second to consider his answer, but it was too long. Voldemort entered Rhiannon's mind with tenacious claws, wracking her memory for something in the vein of what he'd suggested. He found it quickly.

"How could you do that to me, you sick fuck?"

Replace the image. Any old boyfriend will do. Just not him.

Rhiannon felt a literal wall erected down the middle of her brain, the Dark Lord cornered to one side, Severus on the other. She pictured the twenty-something No-Maj track star with the body of a god who had abandoned her just before she'd been whisked away to Great Britain. Severus watching them together in the memory instead of Sirius. Voldemort saw everything in embarrassing detail.

He turned loose of her mind more swiftly than she'd expected. "Severus, you are quite well-endowed. Bella, when I'm tired of you wearing me out, you should give Severus a try."

The woman's bright red mouth twisted with a laugh. Sparks flew from Rhiannon's wand, seemingly of their own accord.

"My my! I thought she was possessive before! Severus, your goddess demands your utmost loyalty — you should watch where you stray."

"I wouldn't dream of straying, my Lord."

Rhiannon wasn't sure the direction the Dark Lord was heading with all this goddess talk and what energy he thought he was picking up on.

Just go with it.

The man on the floor let out a whimper, straining to move his wrist against the taut band. Rhiannon knew he would regret making that sound.

"Our friend here doesn't like his binding," Voldemort said with false sympathy. "Perhaps we should relieve him of it. Professor Aspenfell...or...Rhiannon...that seems more appropriate, does it not? Rhiannon, divest this man of the ties that bind him. Show him a goddess's mercy."

Rhiannon obeyed, freeing the man with a gentle swish of her wand. Platov, was his name, she recalled when she thought back on Remus's announcement from over the summer. He was from Durmstrang, pretending to be an American. He rose to his knees, still gagged, with eyes that pleaded with her to show restraint in whatever came next.

He should have thought about that before he hurt me.

Good girl. That is the right train of thought.

Why do men think they can take whatever they want from a woman? Did he just leave me to die in that alleyway?

"Now show Platov the price that you demand for your mercy," the Dark Lord continued.

The gris-gris is the last tangible connection to my mother. It is no longer mine because of this man.

Rhiannon's eyes narrowed and her wand lifted into the air like an extension of her very hand. "Crucio." It was barely audible. She didn't even need to utter it at all— she was gifted at wandless magic — but she did it for the Dark Lord's benefit. Platov curled into a tight ball like an insect thrown on its back, tensed and tight, whimpering once again.

Bellatrix laughed. "She barely moves, look at her. It's like she could do it in her sleep. Tell us, gorgeous, how many times?"

"Don't distract her, Bella!" Voldemort commanded her, slashing an arm through the air in the woman's direction with some kind of jinx.

You've casted the spell. Now just let it ride. Let your wand and your body follow through. Detach your mind. Guard it.

Rhiannon thought back to her disastrous attempts at piano when she was a young girl being raised as a No-Maj. The one song she managed to learn, she learned through muscle memory, not musical literacy. Her fingers simply danced along the keys in the familiar prescribed rhythm while her mind checked out. The Cruciatus curse was no different— just a new tune.

Voldemort moved behind her, his fingers tracing down her wand arm as he watched Platov continue to writhe. Rhiannon clenched her teeth and ignored the sensation.

"Look!" he exclaimed with a laugh. "Look at how she fights me! Not even the greatest wizard of all time can tame a goddess's energy. It all makes sense now why Dumbledore was so obsessed with the girl. He wants her divine power on his side! 'Practical Magic!' What a farce!" He was cackling so hard his laugh seemed to shake the floor beneath her.

"Let the boy go, my child. I think he understands who he toyed with now."

Rhiannon immediately did as commanded, exhaling heavily. Platov crumbled onto the floor in a heap.

"Severus, you will marry her as soon as we can pull a wedding together. We haven't had a Death Eater wedding in so long! It will be a grand affair! And it will be here. Narcissa, I can trust you to arrange the details?" He turned to the stoic blond standing in the corner.

"Of course, my Lord. We will be honored to host."

"My Lord," her husband spoke up carefully, his voice seeming to drip with forced submission. "Don't you think it wise we initiate her first? Have her take the mark? She should pledge herself to all of us, not just Severus. She could consummate with just a chosen few of course."

The blond man leered at her frighteningly. He was attractive. If forced, it wouldn't be the worst thing...

You will never allow Lucius to touch you. Ever.

The Dark Lord shook his head. "Lucius, I promised Severus he could keep her virtue to himself. He's been loyal and places himself in jeopardy nearly every day. She is a reward far too lofty for him, but I grant it nonetheless. As far as taking the Mark, I will
leave that to her. Far be it from me to defile her ethereal perfection and jeopardize any gifts she was sent here to bestow on us."

Voldemort turned to Rhiannon and placed his long, icy fingers on her throat. "You did well my child. I am giving you quite a few more liberties than I would grant a follower of mine because I believe you are something more. But do not disappoint me. You will obey Severus. And if I find that your loyalties have shifted to Albus Dumbledore...well let's just say even the brightest lights are capable of being snuffed out. Nagini, dinner."

Rhiannon watched as a giant snake slithered over from the far corner of the room. She hadn't even noticed it before, being so focused on clearing her mind and performing the task demanded of her.

Don't look away. You must watch.

The snake did a twisting dance around it's prey before swallowing Platov nearly whole, sheathing his body in her mouth.

So this is it. I've helped kill someone.

We do what we must. Don't dwell on it.

That could have been Sirius. Or Harry. Or Dumbledore.

But it wasn't. He was a filthy scumbag who attacked you in an alleyway. Be grateful. Focus on facts, not conjecture.

"So tell me, goddess Rhiannon? What do you think of my pet?"

"A fantastic ally, my Lord. Strong and beautiful. And quite satiated now, I would imagine." A small smile played at her lips for effect.

Voldemort beamed gleefully. "And the girl's funny, too. Severus, you have quite the prize. It goes without saying that as I giveth, I taketh away. You will continue to earn her; one disappointment and her care will be re-assigned."

Rhiannon noticed Lucius smirk and shift a bit, Bellatrix doing the same. They would both fall over themselves to get a taste of her, she knew. She looked to the lady they called Narcissa, still standing as regal as a queen, showing no trace of emotion. Rhiannon thought of Draco— how many defensive walls the poor boy had and how they shot up the minute someone addressed him. She vowed to help him in some way when she returned to teaching, even if it was just to repeatedly ask if he was okay after class each day.

"One more item of business, Severus. This prophecy. Obviously we were unsuccessful in our last attempt with Nagini. However with my most loyal followers now free to assist, it should only be a matter of time. Dumbledore is trying to bait me into returning to the Ministry so my existence will be discovered, thereby vindicating him and Sirius Black. They actually think that fool Black orchestrated the prisoner release! It's just too perfect. Keep them denying me, keep Black castrated and completely ineffectual as a wanted criminal. I will need another way to obtain the prophecy, one that continues to conceal my existence from the Ministry. We know only Potter and myself can hear what was recorded, so it must be Potter. You will assist me with baiting him into the Department of Mysteries, Severus."

"Yes, my Lord, of course. May I suggest waiting until the end of term, when he is less guarded?"

"You're always asking me to delay my gratification, Severus. Does he do that with you, my dear Rhiannon?"

"Yes, it seems to be his M.O.," Rhiannon responded with a smile.

Voldemort smiled in return and dismissed further conversation. Having reached the climax of the evening, he now seemed rather bored. Rhiannon and Snape trekked back through the dark Hogwarts night, guided by the full moon.

"You did well," Snape commended her. "I didn't plan for him to interpret your energy the way he did, but it was most fortunate. He has placed you on a pedestal, and that is certainly the safest place for you to be."

"They are blaming Sirius for the prison break?"

"Don't you read The Prophet, girl?"

"I'm a bit busy as a new teacher and a seventh year student," Rhiannon answered defensively.

"I cannot believe you finally met your father and your only takeaway is the one mentioning of Sirius Black," Snape muttered, moving ahead of her with a strident gait that demonstrated his annoyance.

"I still worry about him, Severus. He needs to move on and he can't if dirt keeps piling up on his name."

"You need to worry about what you can control, and Sirius Black's fate is beyond your reach. You should forget him. Now, you did a remarkable job of controlling your emotions where your father was concerned. How do you feel now?"

She thought carefully for a few moments. "Apathetic. It was all much easier than I had imagined. He's just another person."

Snape scoffed. "The Dark Lord? Just another person?"

Rhiannon shrugged as they reached the Hogwarts gate. "Maybe the reason he has so much power is because you all consent to let him have it. You should let me bring him down a notch or two."

Snape stopped her before he lifted the wards and wrapped his arms around her waist. "You are getting too cocky, little one." She could feel his breath hot against her cheek as a contrast to the bitter January night. "You'd do well to remember your place."

"Perhaps you should remind me?"

"Your wish is my command, 'goddess Rhiannon.'"